They climbed into the car and Chapman drove out the boulevard and turned into the Parkville road. It was a lovely morning, not too hot and with only a wind made by their passage, so that the dust only drifted behind the car. They passed the home of Mr. and Mrs. Brandon’s daughter and saw the aerials strung between the house and the flagpole on the garage.
“Keep your eyes open for aerials anywhere, Amy,” said Jessie. “Of course wherever that broadcasting station is, the aerials must be observable.”
“They’ll be longer and more important than the antenna for the usual receiving set, won’t they?” eagerly asked Amy.
“Of course.” Then Jessie leaned forward to speak to Chapman, for they were in the open car. “When you approach the stock farm you spoke of, please drive slowly. We want to look over all the surroundings.”
“Very well, Miss Jessie,” the chauffeur said. 152
Passing through Parkville, they struck a road called a turnpike, although there were no ticket-houses, as there are at the ferries. It was an old highway sweeping between great farms, and the country was rolling, partly wooded, and not so far off the railroad line that the latter did not touch the race-track Chapman had spoken of.
The car skirted the high fence of the Harrimay enclosure and then they ran past a long string of barns in which the racing horses were housed and trained for a part of the year. There was no meet here at this time, and consequently few horses were in evidence.
“I like to see horses race,” remarked Amy. “And they are such lovely, intelligent looking creatures. But so many people who have anything to do with horses and racing are such hard-faced people and so—so impossible! Think of the looks of that Martha Poole. She’s the limit, Jessie.”
“Neither she nor Mrs. Bothwell is nice, I admit. But don’t blame it on the poor horses,” Jessie observed, smiling. “I am sure it is not their fault. Mrs. Poole would be objectionable if she was interested in cows—or—or Pekingese pups.”
Chapman turned up a hilly road and they came out on a ridge overlooking the fenced-in track. The chauffeur shifted his position so as to glance behind him at the girls, the car running slowly. 153