“We’ll have to deliver the guests to Baretti in private cars,” was Robin’s undaunted decision. “Thus far we have two; ours, and Lillian’s is likely to be here any minute. I’ll start at once with seven girls. You two stay here and start Lillian’s car back with seven more the instant she comes. It’s twelve o’clock now. We have exactly one hour. Phone Gussie Forbes and Calista Wilmot. They both have cars. They will help us out. So will Laura Mead and Norma Buchanan. I almost forgot our new Travelers. If those four girls can make one trip apiece, each taking seven or eight girls to a car, Lillian and I can make a trip and a half apiece in an hour. We simply must.”
To think was to act with Robin. She had hardly finished sketching her plan to her chums before she had begun to marshal seven of the dormitory girls to the door.
“Follow me,” she laughingly directed. “I’m going to make a rapid sprint for my car. You do the same. Never mind your umbrellas. You’ve not time to hunt them out now. I’ll bring them to the campus later in the car.”
Across the walk she dashed, an intrepid little leader, and opened the door of the car nearest to her. Her followers, close at her heels, merrily stowed themselves into the automobile. A moment or two and Robin was in the seat and had started the car.
The palm-screened window of a florist’s shop across the street afforded an excellent view of Robin and her party of girls to an interested spectator. Leslie Cairns had gone to the pains of donning leather coat, knickers, rubber hood and high-laced boots, and actually walking in the downpour from the Hamilton House to the florist’s shop opposite the bus stand. Her idea was not that of taking a rainy-day constitutional. Leslie had posted herself behind the barrier of leafy green for the express purpose of watching the working out of a little plan of her own.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE WILL AND THE WAY
While Phil hastily telephoned Wayland Hall and sent out her emergency call for Gussie and Calista, Barbara busied herself with getting into communication with Laura Mead and Norma Buchanan of Silverton Hall. Anna Towne had been posted to watch at the window for Lillian. The latter arrived shortly after Robin had gone. She quickly took on her load of passengers and whizzed off as speedily as she had come.
Arrived at the inn with her first installment of guests, Robin found Signor Baretti a most sympathetic listener to the report of the calamity which had overtaken the off-campus girls. Mindful of the fact that the nationality of the two warring garage proprietors was the same as Baretti’s she made her report a strictly impersonal one.
“This is no way for Mariani an’ Sabani to do. Verra bad,” was the little proprietor’s wrathful criticism of his countrymen. “I know these verra well. They are the Italianos. But they are not much good. They are too craza get the money. Each steal the business of the other. To get mad at the people; that is the verra bad business. The people don’t ride, Sabani an’ Mariani get no mona.”