“I al-wa-ys kn-ew you—had co-ot-tton wh-ere br-rains ought—to—be-e——” Angela managed to jerk forth.
Jimmy made no reply to this stigma but tore along the road until a constable arrested him. That calmed him somewhat, for he had to pay a fine, and it took all the money Mrs. Alexander had recently given him.
When the second car caught up with Jimmy’s, Mr. Alexander shouted gleefully: “That was some race, Jimmy, old boy! I used to eat up the road that way, in Colorado, but they won’t stand for it over here, will they?”
As Jimmy had just transferred his little roll of bills from his pocket, to the constable’s hand, he grunted and started on slowly.
Mr. Fabian called out, however: “You rushed past all the towns I had planned to stop at and explore. Now shall we go back!”
“No, never mind, Prof! let’s get back to London and end this awful trip!” shouted Polly, anxiously.
Her friends laughed, but the tourists in the second car could not understand why the drive was so awful to Polly.
At Penrith the travellers stopped, as they planned to go cross country to visit some fine old places located at Ripon. And they also wished to visit York, which was a few miles from Penrith.
That night, the moment Jimmy was washed and brushed, he took up his post at the foot of the stairs where the girls would have to come down. One after another of the party descended but Polly failed to appear. Eleanor smiled and took his arm to lure him away, but he shook off her hand just as a petulant child might.
Still smiling, Eleanor walked away and joined her friends in the parlor. Soon after that, they went to the dining-room for dinner, leaving Jimmy still on guard waiting for Polly.