Reaching the highway the girls scanned the fences. Most of these being wire fences there was no space for any of the signs that they had agreed upon before starting out on their tramp. Occasionally they halted to examine a sign board at the junction of two or more roads, but nowhere did they find any trace of Jane and her car. There were not even tire tracks in the road. The pedestrians had almost made up their minds that Crazy Jane herself had missed her way when Harriet suddenly held up her hand.
“I hear the honk of a motor horn,” she said.
“And there’s the sign on that hog pen,” laughed Miss Elting, pointing to a pig sty close to where they were standing. “That’s just like Jane. The arrow says we are to wait here.”
“A pig pen ith thertainly a nithe plathe to wait,” observed Tommy sarcastically.
“We don’t have to wait in the pen, you goose,” jeered Margery.
“Tho I thee,” answered Tommy imperturbably.
“There she comes!” shouted Hazel.
Crazy Jane McCarthy, her blonde hair streaming over her shoulders, rounded a bend in the road, the rear wheels of her car skidding nearly to the ditch on the outside of the curve. Jane was shouting and waving one hand. She brought the car up sliding and leaped to the ground.
“You dears! Where have you been?” she cried, embracing each of the girls in turn, not forgetting Miss Elting.
“The question, is where have you been?” laughed the guardian.