Dorothy's Triumph

“Well, seeing you came so near capsizing us by your affectionate embrace of the chauffeur, the latter individual is surely entitled to some reward for his valued services – particularly as he will now have to detain the party some ten or fifteen minutes while he does a little real hard labor.”

He jumped quickly out of the machine and going around to the left front wheel, examined the exploded tire. It was perfectly flat.

“Yes;” he repeated, “this means a little work.”

“That was hard luck, Gerald,” said Dorothy, “particularly when you were trying to make a record run.”

“Yes; it’s the first trouble we’ve had with the machine since starting on our trip. But this is really a simple matter, Dorothy.”

“Oh, I’m so glad of that.”

“I shall still have the satisfaction of putting you into Bellvieu in time to be in bed by twelve – and we may even shade that time a little. Come, Jim! Get that jack out of the tool chest, and help me hoist this wheel off the ground. You’d better bring the pump, also, and we’ll see how long it will take you and Ephy to inflate a tire of this size.”

Jim and Ephraim both sprang to Gerald’s aid. Soon the jack was under the wheel, where it required but a moment to raise the machine until the wheel was clear of the ground.

Then Gerald removed the punctured tire, pulled out the inner tube, and proceeded to put the new one in its place. With the tire back on the rim again, he attached the end of the pump to the air tube with astonishing swiftness, and Jim began at once to force the ozone into the rubber. Tiring after a few moments, he gave way to Ephraim, while Gerald, his hand on the tire, waited until it was sufficiently hard to carry the weight of the machine. Then he gave the signal to stop pumping.

Another moment sufficed to lower the wheel onto the ground, and to put the tools back in the chest. Then Gerald and his helpers crawled into the machine and the big car started off as if nothing had happened. The whole affair had not taken over ten minutes.

“I had no idea punctures were so easily remedied,” said Aunt Betty. “Somehow, I have always dreaded the thought of being in an automobile away from the city when a tire blew up. But, aside from the noise, there seem to be no disagreeable features.”

“Would be if you didn’t happen to have an extra inner tube along,” said Jim.

Gerald nodded.

“You’re right. The idea is always to have one.”

“But what would you do if you hadn’t?” asked Dorothy.

“It would be necessary to find the hole in the punctured tube and stop it up with cement.”

“And then you would have to wait hours for it to dry, I suppose?”

“No; only a few minutes. There is a preparation something like putty which you force into the puncture, and which dries in a very few minutes. Of course, a tire fixed in this way would never be considered as satisfactory as a new inner tube, yet they have been known to go many miles without the slightest trouble. In fact, you are more apt to get a new puncture, than to have the patch give out.”

Time passed so quickly as the big machine shot along the level highway at a rapid pace that no one realized their whereabouts until Aunt Betty cried suddenly:

“Oh, look over there! Those must be the Northern Lights.”

Her hand was extended toward a brilliant glare which lit up the sky as the moon went behind a heavy cloud.

“The Northern Lights, and in the east!” cried Dorothy. “Oh, Aunt Betty!”

“As I live that is the east! Why, I’m all turned around. Then what are those lights, my dear?”

“Baltimore, of course, you dear auntie.”

“So soon? Why, it seems as if we have been out barely two hours.”

“And we have been out but a very little more,” said Jim, looking at his watch. “It is only eleven o’clock and it was a few minutes to nine when we left the hotel. Another half hour will put us to the gates of Bellvieu, eh, Gerald?”

“Surely,” was the response, delivered in an “I-told-you-so” tone.

Gradually they began to encounter more vehicles, the majority of which seemed to be traveling toward the city.

“Strange those wagons are all going that way,” said Aurora.

“Nothing so strange about it,” said Jim. “Most of them are lumber wagons filled with country produce, such as vegetables, eggs and fruit. They leave the farms early in the night so as to be on hand at the Baltimore market when it opens for business in the morning.”

On they flew at a high speed, the lights ahead becoming brighter and brighter. Soon an electric light burst before their vision off to the right, then another, and another, until they realized that they were, indeed, in the outskirts of Baltimore.

Gerald ran the car more slowly now, for city ordinances are very strict, imposing a low limit on the speed of autos when within the confines of a municipality. Gerald had never been fined for speeding since coming into possession of an auto, and he had made up his mind that he never would be.

Through the shopping district they went, and into a brilliantly-lighted residence street, thence into smaller, narrower streets as Gerald turned the big Ajax toward the shore of the bay.

Then old Bellvieu, lying dark and silent in the moonlight, a single light twinkling from the servants’ quarters in the rear, burst upon their view. The car ran quickly along the hedge and stopped before the gate.

Gerald looked at his watch.

“It is just eleven-thirty,” he said. “I have the honor to report that I have beaten the time I suggested by several minutes – enough to give you time to unload your things and get to bed before the clock strikes twelve.”

Jim and Ephraim grabbed the baskets out of the big chest in the rear, while Aunt Betty and the girls seized their other belongings. Then, bidding Gerald and Aurora good night, with many thanks for the nice time they had had in the new car, they went up the pathway toward the house.

Chloe, Dinah and Metty had heard their voices, and with shouts of delight had begun to light up the mansion. By the time the party reached the gallery the big house looked as inviting as one could wish.

How soft and fine the beds seemed that night to each one of the tired camping party, for no matter how enjoyable a time they had had, they were forced to admit that there was no place like home.

CHAPTER IX

THE FIRST LESSON

The next week was a pleasant one at Bellvieu. Molly Breckenridge secured the consent of her father to remain for that long, and the girls explored every nook and corner of the old mansion and its grounds. Even the big, old-fashioned barn came in for its share of their attention.

Horseback riding is one of the chief attractions at Bellvieu. Both girls were good riders, and very fond of horses. Jim was not so anxious, but usually accompanied them when they ventured away from home.

Long rides into the country early in the morning, or in the cool of the evening, were enjoyed to the utmost. Gerald came over frequently and the big automobile served to give them many pleasant hours.

The first lesson with Herr Deichenberg had been postponed until after Molly’s departure, though that young lady was not aware of it. The Herr refused to have the attention of his pupils distracted by visitors, so, while impatient to begin his labors, he consented to a postponement until Bellvieu should be clear of company and affairs running along in their natural groove.

The day for Molly’s departure finally rolled around, and at the station to see her off, besides Dorothy and Jim, were Gerald and Aurora. Molly waved a last farewell from the car window as the train moved out of the station.

In Dorothy’s ears still rang her promise:

“If papa consents, I will spend Christmas with you at old Bellvieu.”

To which Dorothy had replied:

“Of course, he’ll consent, for you’re to invite him, too.”