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"If they ain't lyin', I'll be up an' about in a few weeks. Shoulder and some ribs cracked and my legs stove up. I can't move. God, that was an awful tumble!" He shuddered in memory of the auto's leap. "Is Sam or Davy in this gang?" "No; Davy's at Blackwell's Island, an' Sam told me he was goin' to Canada fer his health. Jim Courtney is the leader of this gang. He sailed under the name of Gregory.
I could have seen an auto's lamps for a long distance, but there were none in sight. With a malicious chuckle I thought that my particular friend Victor was not taking the surest way of making himself popular with his fiancee, if that was what she was. The storm overtook me before I was half-way down the Lower Road. A few drops of rain splashed the leaves.
"Simeon doesn't approve; we couldn't induce him to come. He said a day off meant a night on for him he is so wise, is Simeon but I positively had to do something in the way of sport; I am in a reckless mood to-day." "I'll do the wrecking for you, if that's all you want," came from under the auto's wheels. Stephen conveyed his thanks.
The bridge over the stream seemed to have broken in the middle, just as the heavy truck got to that spot, and the auto's front wheels being lower than the rear ones, had slid the load of picnic merrymakers into a heap. "Oh! Oh!" screamed Grace Lavine. "What is going to happen?" "You'll be all right if you just keep quiet!" called the driver of the auto in a loud voice.
She looked at him for a moment, then her lids dropped, and all of her seemed to advertise consent. "Come on, then, let's start." The muscles of his legs tensed involuntarily as if he were about to lead her to the door. "My auto's waiting outside. There's nothing to delay excepting getting on your hat." He bent over her. "I reckon it's allowable," he said, as he kissed her.
He was, as usual, the indifferent spectator. "Where have you been?" cried Stanley. "Making up my mind," said she in the tone that forewarns of a storm. A brief pause. She struggled in vain against an impulse to look at Keith. When her eyes turned in his direction he, not looking at her, moved in his listless way toward the door. Said he: "The auto's waiting. Come on."
"She'd look mighty well in this yellow car, floating along among the white and gold of oranges and orange-blossoms, all white and gold herself," he said. "And she's going to look well in it. That's what I got it for. That's what I've been working for till this auto's fit to eat out of my hand. And gee! but I've been going some!" He grinned under his motor mask as he recalled the strenuous hours.
His eye had just caught sight of the first trailing wreaths of smoke, from up the cliff. "An auto's gone to smash, down there, or I'm a plute!" He needed no second thought to hurl him forward to the rescue. At a smart pace he ran, halloo'ing loudly, to tell the victims should they still live that help was at hand. At his right, extended the wall.
He pressed the button and the unearthly screech of the electric auto's siren split the air. But the bull merely cast an inquiring glance in their direction and then resumed his vigil over the professor. "Boys," wailed the unhappy geologist, "can't you do something, anything? I can't roost in this tree all night, like a bird." The boys couldn't help grinning at this.
They all thoroughly enjoyed the picnic, and when a scarlet automobile went rushing past them, the ladies' veils fluttering in the breeze, Betty merely remarked: "An auto's lovely, of course, but to-day I'd rather have a bicycle. It seems more appropriate, somehow." "Yes," Mrs. Pitt responded. "When you are in such a beautiful county as this, and want to see it well, a bicycle is best.
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