“Oh, dear, dear!” moaned Aunt Betty. “I see I’m in for it. Why did I ever let you persuade me to become a party to this speed mania, Gerald Blank?”
“Don’t ask me why, Mrs. Calvert,” Gerald responded, laughing; “I only know that you did. I have your promise, remember! And,” he added, dramatically, “a Calvert never goes back on a promise.”
“Oh, yes; you have my promise, but I’m sorry I gave it.”
“She’ll be glad she promised, when she sees how easy the big Ajax covers ground,” said Jim, winking at his chum.
“I think the ride back to Baltimore by moonlight will be ideal,” said Molly, rapturously.
“Isn’t it strange to think that here we are over sixty miles from home, not planning to start until the moon is up, yet will be home and in bed by midnight?” said Aurora.
“Pshaw! That’s nothing,” cried Gerald. “It’s mere play for this big Ajax. Why, I could easily do the sixty miles in a little over an hour if Aunt Betty—”
“Mercy!” screamed Aunt Betty. “In a little over an hour? Gerald, if you don’t stop that silly talk, I shall sit myself down under one of these trees and refuse to budge an inch.”
“Oh, you don’t know how nice it is to ride fast, Aunt Betty,” said Dorothy; “to feel the wind fairly blowing the hair off your head; the landscape flashing past so rapidly one can scarcely see it, and to know that—”
“Stop, Dorothy Calvert! You shall not tempt me. I’m too old to acquire such habits, and if Gerald lets his car get beyond a fair rate of speed during our journey home, I shall leap out into the ditch. Then just think how badly you all will feel.”