“I’m glad it’s nothing more than a tire which needs repairing,” Penny commented as the garageman came to learn what they wanted.
He promised that the tire would be ready in half an hour. Glancing at her wrist watch, Penny saw that it was already past lunch time. She inquired if there was a cafe nearby.
“Not in Hamilton, there ain’t,” the garageman told her. “Ma Stevens, across the street in the big white house, serves meals to tourists now and then.”
Rather than spend an unpleasant half hour in the garage, the girls walked over to the rambling white house. They were reassured to see that the yard was well kept and that everything appeared orderly and clean.
“Let’s take a chance on the food,” Penny decided. “I’m hungry enough to eat a fried board!”
Mrs. Stevens, a motherly looking woman in a blue checked gingham dress, opened the door. She looked slightly troubled at their request for food.
“It’s later than I usually serve,” she explained. Then noticing their disappointed faces, she added hastily: “But if you’re not too particular, I can find you something.”
The “something” consisted of a generous platter of mountain trout, fresh from the stream and fried to a golden brown, French fried potatoes, a salad, and cherry pie.
“Dear me, after such a meal, we may not be able to get to Raven Ridge,” Penny remarked, finishing her second piece of pie. “I never ate so much in my life.”
“Did you say you were going to Raven Ridge?” Mrs. Stevens inquired.