"See you later," called Jack.
"Not deserting us, are they?" asked Regina.
"Oh, no, just some lark," answered Cora.
But scarcely had the boys' machines disappeared than a trail of three gypsy wagons turned into the mountain highway from some narrow crossroad.
"Oh!" sighed Belle, apprehensively clutching the arm of her sister.
"Don't, Belle. You almost turned me into the Whirlwind," cautioned the sister, as she quickly twisted around the steering wheel.
"Those are the beach gypsies," Cora was able to say to Bess.
Then no one spoke. Bess leaned over her wheel, while Cora looked carefully for a place to turn out that would bring her clear of the rumbling old wagons.
A woman sat in the back of one of the vehicles. She poked her head out and glared at the approaching machines. Then she was seen to wave a red handkerchief so that the persons in the next wagon could distinctly see it.
The motor girls also saw it.