The car went over a hard bump. Penny bounced and opened her eyes. She was surprised to see that it had grown quite dark. The automobile was moving in a wide curve between long rows of pine trees.
“What time is it?” she asked, pressing her face to the window.
“Not so late,” replied her father. “We’re running into a rain storm. Just our luck.”
Dark clouds had entirely blotted out the late afternoon sun. Even as Mr. Parker spoke, several big raindrops splashed against the windshield.
Soon the rain came down in such a thick sheet that the road ahead was obscured. Stopping suddenly for a crossroads traffic light, the car went into a slight skid. Mrs. Deline screamed in terror, and clutched Mr. Parker’s arm.
“Oh, can’t we stop somewhere?” she pleaded. “I’m so afraid we’ll have an accident.”
“Yes, we’ll stop,” Mr. Parker agreed. “The storm is certainly getting worse.”
A short distance ahead the party glimpsed a group of buildings. One was a filling station and beside it stood a small three-story hotel and tea room.
“Doesn’t look too bad,” Mr. Parker commented, pulling up close to the door. “We’ll have dinner and by that time the storm may be over.”
While Penny and Mrs. Deline went into the tea room, the publisher took the car next door to the filling station to have the tank refueled. He rejoined them soon, shaking the raindrops from his coat.