"More likely they'll be mad when they find that the lock is blown off the door," laughed Jimsy.
"Well, so-long, folks, I'm going to start back in the auto," declared Roy.
"We'll beat you into town," challenged Jimsy.
"More than likely, if the Golden Butterfly is doing her best," was the rejoinder.
Ten minutes later the two machines were racing back to Meadville at almost top speed. Of course the speedy Golden Butterfly won, but then a vehicle of the air does not have to contend with the obstacles that a land conveyance does.
They found Miss Prescott almost on the verge of hysterics. A garbled version of the events of the night had been brought to her and this, coupled with the long absence of the three young folks, had made her extremely nervous.
"I declare, it seems as if you just can't keep out of trouble," she said.
"Well, it actually does seem so, I admit," confessed Peggy; "but we promise to be very good for the rest of the trip."
"And never trouble trouble till trouble troubles us," chanted Jimsy airily.
"That's all very well, but you keep me continually in suspense as to what you'll do next," almost wailed Miss Prescott. "We set out for a quiet trip and encounter nothing but troubles—"