Meanwhile, on the back seat, Miss Sallie was in a reminiscent mood. It was very agreeable to her to hark back to the joyous days of her youth, for Miss Stuart had been a belle, and the two girls were listening with pleasure to her accounts of the gallant major, who had been graduated from West Point ahead of time in order to join the army during the Civil War.
The conversation was interrupted by the sudden stoppage of the automobile at the crossroads, one of which led straight into the woods, while the other branched off into the open, crossing the now dry bed of a river spanning which was the new bridge.
“This is the right road, of course,” said Ruth, taking the one with the bridge.
“Wait!” cried Barbara. “There’s something stretched across the bridge.”
Sure enough, a rope blocked all passage over the bridge, which was quite a long one. Secured to the rope with cords was a plank on which was painted:
“DANGEROUS: TAKE THE OTHER ROAD!”
“The paint on the sign is still sticky,” exclaimed Barbara who had jumped out and run over to take a good look at it. “And the bridge is broken. There is a large hole, like a gash, on one side, and another further down.”
“How remarkable!” replied Ruth. “It must have happened some time this morning. I do not suppose Major Ten Eyck knows anything about it, or he would have let us know. I’ll back up, anyway, to the crossroads, and we can decide what to do. We could go on, I suppose. The major said the other road passed his front gate, but it was a longer one and not such good traveling. What do you say, Aunt Sallie? Speak up, girls, are you all agreed?”
Miss Sallie was much troubled. She wanted to go and she did not want to go, and her mind was in a turmoil.
Bab was silent, and Grace and Mollie looked ready for anything.