They sped along so easily, the strong springs and shock-absorbers taking the jar at the crossings, that even Ruth sighed ecstatically. Agnes murmured:
“This is life. Oh, Neale! it’s the most delightful way to travel.”
“Is it better than riding horses in a circus, Neale?” demanded Tess, from the tonneau.
Neale laughed. He had been circus born and bred, and the little girls still believed that such a life must be one round of pleasure and excitement. They never could understand why Neale had run away from Twomley & Sorber’s Herculean Circus and Menagerie.
Suddenly Agnes, the volatile, thought of another thing. “Oh, me! Oh, my!” she cried. “What ever should we do?”
“Goodness! what’s the matter with you now?” demanded her older sister.
“Suppose our auto should be stolen like Mr. Collinger’s!”
“Don’t say that, Aggie!” wailed Tess.
“They couldn’t steal our auto,” declared Dot, with emphasis.
“Why not?” asked Neale, curiously.