“Perhaps we had better leave,” Doris suggested.
“We have everything all spread out,” Kitty complained, “and this is the nicest grove we’ve passed. We’re not even within sight of the roadhouse.”
“I don’t believe it will do any harm to stay here,” Dave agreed. “We’ll soon be on our way again.”
They sat down and began to eat luncheon. There were thin sandwiches, ice-cold lemonade, salad, pickles, and some of Mrs. Mallow’s delicious cookies and cake. Long before they had finished, they realized that their imaginations had been more ambitious than their appetites.
“I can’t eat another thing,” Kitty groaned.
“It’s a shame to let these sandwiches go to waste,” Dave excused himself, selecting one made of chicken.
“Bet you can’t take it all in one bite,” Doris dared him on.
“A little thing like that? Just watch me! Why you’re not looking!”
It was true that Doris was no longer interested. A red roadster had turned into the lane leading to the roadhouse, and she had caught a glimpse of the driver’s face.
“It’s that same man we saw at the aviation meet!” she exclaimed. “Evidently, he intends to have luncheon at the roadhouse.”