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He could not know that Joe, in a way, perceived his daughter in every nice young woman he saw. Toward evening of the seventh day of her visit, Miss Sherwood returned. Larry was on the piazza when the car bearing her swept into the white-graveled curve of the drive. The car was a handsome, powerful roadster.
The loss of his wife so soon after marriage had been followed by nearly complete indifference to women, and he had made politics his only consolation and mistress, harnessing her like a young mare with his old roadster of the law, and driving them together in the slender confines of his principality, and then locking the law up among his office students to drive politics into the national arena at Washington.
Betty, looking behind, saw the big car stop and brought her own little roadster to a standstill once more. "There is nothing wrong with our tires, is there?" she asked of Grace. "Look over your side, Gracie, and see." Finding nothing amiss, they jumped out and ran back to Mollie to offer assistance.
But Prue hopped out of the roadster and started down the path immediately. She and Lawford still had a few things in common. Mutual affection was one of them. "What's happened to him?" she cried. "You're Mrs. Gallup, aren't you?" "I'm Bet Gallup yes. You run call up Doc Ambrose from over to Paulmouth. Your brother's got a bad knock on the head." "And he's been overboard!" gasped Prue.
Worth ran the machine close up against the doors, jumped down, and I could see his tall form, blurred by the mist, moving about to slide them open. The lamps of the roadster made little showing now as he rolled it in. Then these were switched off and everything down there was dark as a pocket. For a time I sat and waited for him to light up and call me, then started down.
And as he stood there, gazing with a detached impersonal air at the front of the Summit roadster, there approached him a recruiting sergeant. "How about joining up this morning?" he inquired briskly. "Oh, I don't know," the young man responded casually. "I hadn't thought about it." "Every man should be thinking about it," the sergeant declared. "The army needs men.
They were back in less than an hour saying that the doctor would be right along, and he appeared presently in a dusty roadster with another man beside him, probably a friend. I suppose everybody has been taught from childhood that virtue is its own reward and one good turn deserves another.
The swiftly falling curtain of twilight had wrapped the spreading orchards and haciendas in fragrant gloom and a myriad of mysterious chirpings and rustlings forecasted the coming night, when the harsh, grating screech of a horn blared upon their monotone and a low roadster appeared suddenly around a turn in the road, careening sharply on two wheels, and bore down recklessly upon the lone rider.
His grandmother said no more about Maggie, and presently Larry bade her good-night and made his cautious way, ever on the lookout for danger, to where he had left his roadster, and thence safely out to Cedar Crest.
Fischlowitz breathed deep and grasped the nickel-plated door handle. Mrs. Meyerburg leaned out, her small plumes wagging. "Burk, since Miss Becky ain't along to-day, I don't want in front no second man." "Yes, madam." "I want instead you should take the roadster and call after Mrs. Weinstein. You know, down by Twenty-third Street, the fourth floor back." "Yes, madam."
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