“All to the good. But one motor-wagon would do it. We could get over both routes in less time than it takes us to deliver one route with a horse.”
“It’s us for a motor-truck, then,” cried Billy.
“I’ve got a scheme,” said Dan, slowly. “Maybe it won’t work; and then again——”
“What is it?” asked Billy, eagerly.
“I don’t know as I’ll tell you just yet,” said Dan, grinning at him.
And just then something called Billy away—some duty or other—and he forgot later to ask Dan to explain his tantalizing statement.
The Speedwells made their preparations well in advance, and between sessions Friday noon ran home on their Flying Feathers and came back to town in their Breton-Melville car. They backed it into Holliday’s garage, where it would come to no harm during the afternoon, and as soon as school was over they ran to the garage, filled up their tank, strapped a spare five gallon can of gasoline on the running board, as well as a pair of extra tires (that had cost them a pretty penny) in their enamel-cloth covers, and ran out on the street.
Dan guided the car around to Mildred’s house, where the girls and boys who were to ride with them had agreed to assemble. The doctor’s daughter with Lettie and Kate and Maybell were already there and Wiley Moyle and young Fisher Greene soon arrived. Fisher was always being crowded out of the auto belonging to his family; but he had objected so strenuously on this occasion that room had to be found in one of the machines and he had elected to come with the Speedwells, for he and Billy were pretty good chums.
Fisher sat beside Dan on the front seat; four of the party squeezed into the rear of the tonneau and the remaining two—Wiley Moyle and Katie O’Brien—faced the latter quartette. They were comfortably seated, their possessions stowed away, and Dan ran the car out into the Court House square just as the clock in the tower struck four.
They had not long to wait for the rest of the party. Chance Avery shot the Poole car into the square from a by-street, narrowly escaped running over Rover, Mr. Appleyard’s old dog, and very much frightened old lady Massey, who was about to cross the street. And he brought the car to an abrupt stop with a grin on his face, while his open muffler allowed the exhaust to deafen the whole neighborhood.