“They ought to be arrested!” was Laura’s comment. “Why, we might have been smashed up!”
“Good work, Davy!” cried Dunston Porter. “You did just the right thing.”
“Even if that coach driver is shaking his fist at us, eh?” answered Dave, and he bobbed his head in the direction of the coach, which had hauled up but was now going on.
“If you had been going a little faster it would have been all up with us,” said Phil, with a grave shake of his head.
“Let me take the wheel now,” said Dunston 27 Porter, quietly, and Dave slid out of the driving-seat willingly enough, for the excitement had left him somewhat limp.
Half-past six found them in Ryeport, and a few minutes later they rolled up to the National Hotel, and the girls and boys got out, while Mr. Porter took the car around to the garage. They had sent word ahead for rooms, and all soon felt at home. The girls had a fine apartment on the second floor, front, with Dunston Porter next to them, and the three boys in a big room across the hallway.
When the young people assembled in the dining-room, after brushing and washing up, a surprise awaited them. They had a table to themselves, ordered by Dunston Porter, and decorated with a big bouquet of roses and carnations. A full course dinner was served.
“Oh, this is lovely!” cried Jessie, as she caught sight of the flowers.
“Just grand, Uncle Dunston!” added Laura. And then she added, in a lower voice: “If there wasn’t such a crowd, I’d give you a big hug for this!”
“And so would I,” added Jessie.