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Updated: May 24, 2025
At that moment a burly Belgian shouldered his way through the crowd and, leaping on the running-board, levelled a revolver at the Germans cowering in the tonneau. Quick as thought Thompson knocked up the man's hand, and at the same instant I threw on the power. The big car leaped forward and the mob scattered before it.
"No can do," grunted Milt. "Scared?" "Nope. Love it! This is a real camp the brush on the bank, and the stream listen to it chuckle under the running-board." "Do you like to camp with me?" "Love it." "Say! Gee! Never thought Claire! Got your transportation back East?" "My ticket? Yes. Why?" "Well, I'm sure you can turn it in and get a refund. So that's all right."
Panting, Chester flung himself upon the running-board just as the car turned out of the yard. "Had a hunt for my coat nearly lost you!" he gasped. Burns stopped the car. "See here, sonny," he expostulated. "You happen to be host, you know. I might be detained out there, though I don't expect it." "I'll take the trolley back if you are," replied Chester, settling himself.
The mechanician promptly appeared, hands and face greasy and black and took his place on the running-board. "All ready, sir," he announced imperturbably. With half-a-dozen strides his master reached the car; in as many seconds the powerful engine was throbbing.
She saw a dozen camping devices unknown to the East: trailers, which by day bobbed along behind the car like coffins on two wheels, but at night opened into tents with beds, an ice-box, a table; tents covering a bed whose head rested on the running-board; beds made-up in the car, with the cushions as mattresses. The Great Transcontinental Highway was colored not by motors alone.
So Felicity paid him and stepped off the running-board into the thick of it to have a try on foot at the very moment when the nearest officer thought to have it cleared. He raised an arm and roared, bull-voiced: "Come on there, now!"
As the car started down the drive a man jumped to the running-board, jerked open the car door, and without ceremony pushed Spencer into a corner and seated himself between the latter and Kathleen. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting, Miss Whitney," he apologized. "Sorry to have been late." Kathleen shrank back.
It held the casualness of one certain to be obeyed. Although Peter had done no crime, nor had even harbored a criminal intention, a trickle of apprehension went through him at Bobbs's nod. He recalled Jim Pink's saying that it was bad luck to see the constable. He walked up to the shuddering motor and stood about three feet from the running-board.
Mother was coming out at the front door, and she looked just the way she did when we got a telegram once saying that Grannie was very ill. Jerry jumped off the running-board before the automobile stopped, and he let Mother hug him right there in the middle of the path, which is a thing he generally hates.
In point of actual distance he certainly succeeded literally in keeping them extremely near together, during the few minutes it took to get out of a winding wood-road to the main highway, and to drive at a stimulating pace a mile down that road. When Leaver took his place upon the running-board he was unavoidably close to Charlotte's knee, and his head was within reach of her hand.
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