But the first buzz of the strange machine was of that determined quality that usually indicates great power, capable of spurting some rods away with one great, grand whizz! The car was out of sight, and out of sound, while Walter was struggling with the stickers of a barbed wire fence. A dark stretch of road, that at once united and separated two summer resorts, made the flight of the intruders’ car too simple to speculate upon.
“If our garage was not so far away,” complained Walter, returning from the fence with bleeding fingers, “we’d have a race.”
“Hanged funny, isn’t it?” commented Ed.
“As if that—person—we saw get away was a robber! Why, that was a girl—she crawled under the fence!” declared Walter.
“She may have left me a bunch of violets,” remarked Jack with a sigh, as they all three went back to the cottage, where, at the steps, Cora was waiting. “Say, sis,” her brother went on, “let’s go in and look over things now. I have an idea that our visitor came to wash up more dishes!”
“And I also have an idea that the visitor—had been here before,” replied Cora. “They—he—she, or it—knew how to open that funny catch on the screen door!”
Re-entering the house the boys made all sorts of fun of each other, for each and all of them allowing the “burglar” to escape.
“But, joking aside,” said Cora, “I know I heard the noise in the dining room, and I’m going to look there first.”
“For my violets,” whimpered Jack, with a sniffle.
“June violets!” mocked Cora.