“We will spend the night at the Mansion House, in Fairport,” spoke Cora, consulting a list after dinner. “I will telephone for rooms.”
“Perhaps you had better let me,” suggested Cousin Mary, and she made the arrangements over the wire.
Once more they were under way again, and all went well until Jack shouted that his tire had gone flat and would have to be pumped up.
“Go ahead–don’t wait for us!” he called to his sister. “We can speed up and catch you.”
“Don’t take the wrong road,” Cora cautioned, and then Jack and Ed got out the repair kit. The work took them longer than they had expected, and it was getting dusk when they were ready to proceed.
“We’ll never make it before dark, old man,” said Ed.
“Oh, I guess we will. I’m going to fracture some speed limits,” and Jack opened wide the throttle. The Get There did make good time, but it was not worthy of its name. For, after going for some time, Jack felt that he must be nearing Fairport. He got out to look at a sign post, lighting a match to distinguish the directions. Then he uttered an expression of dismay.
“What is it?” asked Ed, anxiously. “Something else gone wrong, Jack?”
“Yes–we’ve gone wrong!”
“How so?”