“How can you tell?”
“Why, Jack’s so anxious to get us off. He paid the hotel bill for me, bought me a magazine and some candy. He never does things like that unless there is something queer about to happen. Does anything seem wrong? Do I look all right?”
“Perfectly charming, Cora. That’s a stunning sweater you have.”
“Yes, I like it. Then it can’t be me that he’s going to bother. I wish I could tell what it was.” She looked back to where Jack, with hurried politeness, was helping Belle into her car. He did not want her to have a glimpse at the rear of it.
“Well, we’ll see what develops,” spoke Cora, as she slipped in first speed, and prepared to set the clutch. She gave a last look back. The little cavalcade of autos was all ready to start. That of Norton, with Walter at the wheel, and Bess on the seat beside him, was directly behind Cora’s big maroon beauty, then came the machine of the twins and lastly that of Jack.
Cora’s machine shot forward. Norton’s jumped as Walter let in the clutch. Then Jack, with a quick motion, pulled from the back of the Robinson car, that Norton was driving, a strip of white muslin. It left revealed another, containing the words:
ON THEIR HONEYMOON
“Let ’em have it!” cried Jack.
Instantly the urchins with the paper bags opened them and a shower of rice fell over Norton and Belle, being scattered liberally over Mrs. Fordam.