“What time is it, Mr. Remington?” asked John Hadley.
“Five minutes after one.”
“Something has happened!” cried Lily, in a terror-stricken voice. “Oh, why did we ever let them out of our sight?”
All this time Ruth could hardly suppress the feeling of exultation that was taking possession of her. Was Harold really succeeding? Might she win after all? Then she felt a momentary pang of fear lest the accident, whatever it was, might be too obvious, and Marjorie’s keen mind might discover an underlying motive. But after all, the possibility of such a thing was slight; Harold was too clever for that.
All the joyousness of the breakfast party had vanished when the guests assembled for their noon-day meal. The subject was all absorbing; no one talked of anything else.
“What I can’t understand is why we didn’t pass them on the road,” said Jack. “If anything had happened to the machine, we ought to have seen it.”
“That’s true, unless they went for a little spin,” said Ruth.
“And what time is the meet?” asked David, unconsciously voicing the question that was uppermost in everybody’s mind.
“Three o’clock,” replied Mrs. Andrews.
“Felton,” said John Hadley; “will you go out on a search party with me after lunch? You were successful before——”