“I wish I could accompany you,” he said. “Ten thousand dollars’ worth of jewels is a rather risky thing to carry about.”
“Oh, I have a splendid escort, thank you,” spoke up Jess, frigidly. She drew on her gauntlets and began fumbling with the levers. Roy was already out of the car and cranking up.
“It would be the pleasure of the ride,” said Fanning, in a low voice. “If I were with you I could almost wish somebody would try to hold us up so that I could show you what I could do in your defence.”
“Just as you did that day at school when poor little Henry Willis was being beaten by that big bully Hank Jones?” asked Jess, quietly. Fanning’s glances, and the emphasis he threw into what he said, were very distasteful to her, and she took what proved an effectual means of squelching him.
“You know I had a sore wrist that day and couldn’t get into a fight with Hank,” said Fanning, but his eyes were downcast and he had not much more to say. Presently the auto chugged off, leaving the disgruntled youth standing on the sidewalk following it with his eyes.
“So you’re trying to win out Jess Bancroft, are you?” the over-dressed lad thought to himself. “Well, Roy Prescott, I guess that settles you. I’ve never liked you, and now that I’ve a chance to get the upper hand of you I’m going to use it. You’ll regret this auto ride to-day in days to come, or I’m very much mistaken.”
He turned and reëntered the bank, but presently emerged again in a leather coat of black material, black leggings and black cap and goggles. Hauling out his motor-cycle from a rack in front of the bank he wheeled it into the street, and with an admiring crowd of small boys looking on, started the swift, four-cylindered machine. In a cloud of dust he vanished in the same direction as had Jess Bancroft’s car.
Jess, once the confines of the village were past, “let the car out.” They sped along, chatting merrily. The roads about Sandy Bay were ideal for automobiling, and perhaps neither of the young occupants of the car noticed how fast they were going when the vehicle topped a small rise and began descending a long steep grade at the bottom of which the railroad, which approached on a curve, was visible in two shining parallel streaks of metal.
Suddenly there came a shrill, long drawn whistle.
“Hullo, a train!” exclaimed Roy. “Must be a freight; there’s no regular passenger scheduled to run at this time of day.”