“Glad you like my notion! The thing now is to find a Worthy Object.”
“A Worthy Object that won’t object unworthily?” suggested Jane. “We’ll find one, my Mary! If we have to burn down some one’s house and set the family down beside the road, with only one stocking apiece—and amputate the other legs!—we’ll find some one to whom we can give our proceeds!”
“If I drive the car maybe I could run over the head of a family,” said Florimel hopefully. “I can’t steer very well yet.”
“You’d be more likely to wreck your car to save a chicken!” laughed Mary. “The head of the family would have to be taken off and rolled right under the car for you to hurt it, soft-hearted little Mel!”
“My heart might be all right, and my hand all wrong,” retorted Florimel.
“We’ll ask Mr. and Mrs. Moulton and Win to find us something to give money to.”
That evening Win brought around the great car and Mrs. Garden and Mary persuaded Florimel to join them in the tonneau, to let Win carry on Jane’s education in driving a little farther. Jane sat with Win in the front, and the middle seats were occupied by Anne and Abbie, Anne’s tall and bony structure counterbalancing Abbie’s unwieldiness.
“Win, we are to drive ‘entirely northward,’ Abbie said,” Jane explained, her voice covered by the engine from the hearing of the others. “We go to the edge of Vineclad, ’most to the next town; Joel Bell lives in the country.”
“All right, Janie; catch hold of the wheel and change places with me. You’re to drive and find this Bell. What a lot of bother it would save if he were the kind of bell that kept ringing, as long as Abbie doesn’t know precisely where he lives,” said Win, holding the wheel steady over Jane’s head as he stood up to slip into the other seat.
The pleasures of the chase were added to the enjoyment of the lovely drive in that exquisite hour between sunset and summer starlight.