And yet when she thought it over she did not quite see how an attack could be planned. The schedule had been carefully prepared so that there need be no driving at night; each sunset was to find them at some inn or hotel, and the car safely stored for the night in a garage. Whatever took place would have to be planned for broad daylight, and there seemed to be too much traffic to allow any measure of success. Nevertheless she made up her mind to keep a sharp look-out for trouble.
In order to have a change of scenery the girls decided not to take the Lincoln Highway, but to go home by another route. In her shopping tours about San Francisco Marjorie had picked up a very complete book, in which was printed not only a map of the trip, but a description of the best hotels and inns along the way. She had made it a point to purchase two copies, one of which she had marked for Miss Vaughn’s benefit. So, if the Crowell boys chose, they could figure out approximately where the party would be at each hour of every day. Lily had reprimanded her for her daring, saying that she was only putting temptation into the young men’s way and making things more dangerous for herself; but with her usual spirit Marjorie had replied that she loved adventure.
But by the time that two days had passed without the slightest accident to disturb their progress, and the Girl Scouts had left the state of California, Marjorie herself began to doubt whether there would be any excitement. On that very day, however, they met with the first noteworthy experience.
It was a hot day; the sun was shining brightly and the road upon which they were travelling was hard and dry. The girls looked in vain for shade; as far as they could see in the distance there was no promise of relief.
“No wonder there are so few cars,” remarked Ethel, listlessly. “If I had my choice, I’d rather stay at home today too.”
“There must be at least one behind us somewhere,” muttered Marjorie, in a tone too low for anyone else to hear. “The boys aren’t far away.”
“No,” replied Ethel. “I think, by the way, that they must have stayed at that hotel across the street from us last night. I think I caught a glimpse of them on the porch when we drove away.”
“No doubt you did. Doesn’t it seem funny not to wait for them, and speak to them?”
“It must be torture for poor John Hadley!” teased Ethel. “You certainly can be cruel, Marj—”
“Hush, Ethel!” remonstrated the other. “You’ll let the cat out of the bag.”