“Hum—yes. I know that place. They make a lot of barrels there,” said Mr. Bobbsey.
“But it’s thirty miles to Coopertown, and there are a lot of little villages in between,” said the agent. “But be sure to keep to the main road.”
“I will,” replied Mr. Bobbsey. “Thank you.”
He was about to start on again in the automobile with the children, hoping to overtake the strange woman, when Bert saw a lunch wagon not far from the station.
“Daddy, I’m hungry!” he cried.
“So’m I,” added Nan.
“Yes? Well, I could eat a sandwich myself,” Mr. Bobbsey said. “I’ll get some at the wagon, and some bottles of soda, and we’ll eat as we go along. I don’t want to delay, for that old woman may disappear again.”
He bought some things at the lunch wagon, and started once more, driving through the woods. The road was a fair one, of dirt, but so narrow that the branches of the trees on either side brushed the children as they passed.
“I wouldn’t like to meet a big truck now,” said Mr. Bobbsey, as they reached a very narrow place and squeezed through. “There is no room to pass.”
But they met no other cars, and heard none. It was very still and quiet in the road, save for the chugging of their own motor and the occasional notes of birds.