CHAPTER XVIII
THE END OF AN EVENTFUL DAY
Things kept on happening. When I got out of the buggy to open the big gate leading into the avenue, a gate that was supposed to work by pulling a string but which never did, I saw some peculiar tracks in the dust of the road.
"An automobile has gone in," I exclaimed, "and hasn't gone out, either! Look, the tracks don't come back!"
"Heavens! I do hope I am not to go out again," said Father wearily. "I'd like to sit on the back of my neck in my sleepy-hollow chair and talk or listen as the case might be. I am too tired even to read."
"Me, too! And hungry's not the word!"
"A midday dinner gets mighty far off by supper time. I hope Susan realizes that."
A dusty Ford car was drawn up near the stile block. It looked familiar, but then all Fords have a way of looking that.