The girls disengaged themselves from Ruth's arms and fairly pounced upon Mr. Robert Stuart.
"Oh, how is dear Aunt Sallie and Mr. A. Bubble?" laughed Barbara, her eyes shining with joy.
"Aunt Sallie is waiting to greet you at our home. Mr. A. Bubble is outside growling over your delay in getting to Chicago," smiled Mr. Stuart.
"We received your telegram," said Mr. Stuart, as they left the Union Station. "For a time we were considerably upset. Later we saw an account of the wreck in the morning paper. We did not learn that anyone was injured."
"What caused it? Wasn't it awful?" questioned Ruth, gazing at her friends admiringly. "And to think I wasn't there to share the honor of being mixed up with a railroad wreck. Too bad," she pouted.
"It wasn't a wreck, it was a shake-up," answered Grace.
"I am glad you were not with us. Who knows what might have occurred," answered Bab soberly. "Oh, there is Mr. Bubble," she cried, her serious expression changing to a happy smile as she ran forward to the puffing red automobile and patted it affectionately. A thin curl of blue smoke was rising from the exhaust of the motor car.
"Hear him purr his delight," cried Mollie. "He's just like a contented kitten for all the world," she laughed. "He isn't grumbling at all."
"He was grumbling loudly enough when we left him," answered Mr. Stuart.
"That's because he was cold. But we will warm Mr. A. Bubble up on our way home," declared Ruth. This she did, keeping a wary eye out for traffic policemen who might claim that she was exceeding the speed limit. But Ruth knew fairly well where to look out for a traffic man and where not to look for him. Up Dearborn Street to Madison Street the car whirled, the sharp air putting color in the faces of the girls and making their eyes sparkle.