Tom didn’t linger up the tree to think all that. Ere he had finished speaking to himself he was down on the ground, making speedily for where he judged the road to be. As he came in sight of the road he heard another chug! chug! that made his heart bound with delighted hope.
“Hi, there! Stop there, please!” shouted the young motor boat captain, waving his arms as he sighted a touring car headed toward the village.
There was only the chauffeur on the front seat and an elderly man in the tonneau. The chauffeur glanced back at this other man, then slowed down the auto.
“If you’re going into Wood’s Hole, take me with you?” begged Tom so earnestly that the older man swung open the door, saying crisply: “Jump in!”
Nor did Halstead lose a second. He plumped down into the seat by the door and the car was off again, going at some twenty miles an hour.
“I hope you won’t mind my wet clothes in your car,” hinted Tom apologetically. “I got a big drenching in the ocean and there was neither chance nor time to make a change.”
“You’re in a hurry to get to the village, eh?” smiled the elderly man.
“In as big a hurry as I ever was to get anywhere,” breathed Halstead fervently. The elderly man smiled, though he evidently was not curious, for he asked no further questions. Halstead sat there delightedly watching the distance fade. Even to his anxious mind the trip seemed a brief, speedy one. As the car ran in by the railway station Halstead saw the late afternoon train slowly backing down the track. It had been in, then, for three or four minutes.
“Thank you, thank you!” breathed Tom fervently, as he threw open the door to leap out, then closing it behind him. “You haven’t any idea what a huge favor you’ve done me.”
“I’m glad I’ve been able to be of some use in the world to-day,” laughed the old gentleman pleasantly.