The Automobile Girls at Newport: or, Watching the Summer Parade

But the farmer was anxious to get out of trouble.

“I’ll just lead the hoss back myself,” he said. “No charge at all, miss.” Evidently afraid of trouble, the farmer made a hurried start homeward, and was soon lost to view, while Barbara rode back to her friends with help.

In ten minutes two motor cars were making their way into New Haven. The passengers had changed places. Ruth sat contentedly with her hands folded in her lap, by the side of a masculine chauffeur, who had introduced himself as Hugh Post, and turned out to be the roommate, at college, of Mrs. Cartwright’s brother, Donald. Barbara, wrapped in steamer rugs, sat beside the boy with the dark hair and blue eyes, whom Miss Sallie had recognized as Ralph Ewing, son of the friends with whom they expected to board at Newport.

It was arranged that Barbara and Ruth were to sleep together the first night at New Haven. The truth was, they wanted to talk things over, and there were no connecting doors between the three rooms. The hotel was an old one, and the rooms were big and dreary. They were connected by a narrow private hall, opening into the main hall by a single door, just opposite Ruth’s and Barbara’s room. The automobile girls were in a distant wing of the hotel, but the accommodations were the best that could be found.

Miss Sallie bade their rescuers a prompt farewell on arrival at the hotel. “We shall be delighted to see you again in the morning,” she said, “but we are too used up for anything more to-night.”

Barbara was promptly put to bed. She was not even allowed to go down to supper with the other girls, but lay snuggled in heavy covers, eating from a tray by her bed. Once or twice she thought she heard light footfalls outside in the main hall, but she had noticed a window that opened on a fire escape, and supposed that one of the hotel guests had walked down the corridor to look out of this window.

In a short time Ruth came back and reported that the automobile girls, including Miss Sallie, were ready for bed.

“I am not a bit sleepy. Are you?” Ruth asked Barbara. “I will just jump in here with you, so we can talk better. We’ve certainly had enough adventures for one day!”

“Oh, no!” replied Barbara; “I feel quite wide awake.” Five minutes later both girls were fast asleep.

CHAPTER IX – ONLY GIRLS

Barbara and Ruth both awoke with a feeling that a light had flashed over their faces, but neither of them spoke nor moved. How long they had slept they could not know. It seemed almost morning, but not a ray of daylight came through the closed blinds.

Across the room the flash shone for an instant, then darted on like a will-o’-the-wisp. Both girls dimly saw the outline of a man crouching in the shadow along the wall. His hand slid cautiously up the sides of the bureau, fingering, for a moment, the toilet articles on the dresser. Then the search-light for an instant darted along the mantel and turned to the bed again. The girls were nearly fainting with terror. Ruth remembered that, for once, she had locked her money and her jewels in her trunk.

The man stood absolutely still and listened. Not a sound!

So quiet lay both girls that neither one knew the other had wakened.

The man continued his search, but plainly this was not the room he sought. Still moving, his feet making absolutely no sound, the dark figure with the lantern crept out of the girls’ room, to the front of the corridor, and turned down the narrow, private hallway.

“Aunt Sallie!” Ruth thought with a gasp. She had said she would leave her door open, so she might hear if the girls called her in the night. And Aunt Sallie carried a large sum of money for the expenses of the trip, and her own jewelry as well.

It may be that Ruth made a sound, anyway Barbara knew that her roommate was awake. Both had the same thought at just the same instant.

Noiselessly, without a word, on bare feet, both girls sped down the hall to Miss Sallie’s open door. What they would do when they got there neither of them knew. It was time for action, not for thought! At the open door they paused and knelt in the shadow. Black darkness was about them, save in Aunt Sallie’s room, where a dark lantern flashed its uncanny light. The girls were alert in every faculty. Now they could see more distinctly the form of the man who carried the lantern. He was of medium height and slender. Over his face he wore a black mask through which gleamed his eyes, narrowed to two fine points of steel.

Should the girls cry out? The man was armed and it might mean death to Aunt Sallie or themselves.

Evidently the burglar meant to make a thorough search of the room before he went to the bed, where, he guessed, the valuables were probably kept; but he must know first. The room was bare of treasure. He walked cautiously to where Miss Sallie still slept in complete unconsciousness, this time holding his lantern down, that its light should not waken the sleeping woman.

As he drew near her Ruth could bear the suspense no longer. She saw him drag out a bag from under Miss Sallie’s head and could not refrain from uttering a low cry. It was enough. The man dashed the lantern to the ground and made a rush for the door.

There was no time for Ruth and Barbara to plan. They were only girls; but as the man ran toward them in the darkness, striking out fiercely, Barbara seized one of his legs, Ruth the other. Together, the three of them went down in the blackness. The girls had not the robber’s strength, but they had taken him by surprise and they meant to fight it out.

He kicked violently to free himself, then turned and tore at Barbara’s hands, but she clung to him. He raised the butt end of his pistol and struck with all his force. As the blow fell with a terrific thud, Barbara relaxed her hold, and tumbled over in the darkness.

By this time Miss Sallie realized what was happening. Yet, in the darkness, she could only cry for help, and moan: “Let him alone, girls! Let him go!”

With one leg free it seemed a simple task to get away. The noises were arousing the sleeping hotel guests. Another minute, and the burglar knew that he would be lost! With a violent wrench he tore himself away, and started down the hall, Ruth after him. If she could delay him a few seconds help would come!

The outside door leading from their private hall into the main one was nearly closed; in reaching to open it there was a second’s delay. Ruth flung herself forward, caught the man’s coat and clung desperately, but the burglar was too clever for her. In less than a second he slipped out of his coat, ran quickly to the window leading to the fire escape, and was gone! When assistance arrived, Ruth was standing in the front hall holding a man’s coat in her hand.

“Oh, come!” she said in horror. “A light, please! Aunt Sallie has been robbed, and I am afraid Barbara has been killed!”

Ten or twelve people came running down the hall. The hotel proprietor and several servants made for the fire escape. Grace and Mollie, clad in kimonos, had joined Ruth in the hall, and were shaking with terror. Neither of them had spoken a word, but Grace silently handed Ruth her bath robe.

They turned and the three girls followed the rescuers, who were hastening toward Aunt Sallie’s room. That elderly woman had already risen, struck a light and was in her kimono.

Barbara was leaning against a chair, white as a sheet, but unhurt!

“O Bab!” said Ruth, flying toward her, forgetting everything else in her relief, “I thought you were killed!”

“I thought so, too,” nodded Barbara, calmly smiling, as she reached for one of the blankets and wrapped herself in its folds, “but I wasn’t. When the burglar raised the end of his pistol to strike me, I knew what was coming and ducked. He struck the side of the chair, and I tumbled over under it.”

The hotel proprietor came into the room carrying a chamois bag.

“Madam,” he asked, “is this your property? I found it outside here. Evidently the man dropped it in trying to make his escape. I cannot understand what has happened. The hotel is securely locked. The fire escape goes down into a closed court. The man could not have made his way down five stories, without being seen when we reached the window. It is incredible!”

By this time the halls were swarming with frightened visitors.

Grace had gone out to speak to them, and came in holding the burglar’s coat in her hand. “How curious!” she said, handing the garment to the proprietor. “This is a gentleman’s coat. I can tell by the lining and the whole appearance of it. It was not worn by a common thief!”

“Ruth, my child, and Barbara,” said Aunt Sallie, when everyone had left their apartments, “I shall never forgive you!”

“Why not, Aunt Sallie?” both girls exclaimed, at once.

“Because, my dears, you didn’t just scream and let the wretch escape at once. In my day girls would never have behaved as you did!”

“But, Aunt Sallie,” protested Ruth, “the jewels and money are both safe, and neither Barbara nor I am hurt. I don’t see how we could have done any better, even in your day.”

“Kiss me,” said Aunt Sallie, “and go back to bed at once. It is nearly morning.”

When Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright drew up in front of the New Haven hotel, at a little after two o’clock next day, they found Miss Sallie and the four girls surrounded by a circle of college boys. With them stood a policeman.

“What has happened?” said Mrs. Cartwright in astonishment, jumping out of her car, as Donald Cartwright, Hugh Post and Ralph Ewing came down to meet her. “Are those my girls, to whom I am to introduce you to-day?”

“Goodness!” demanded Hugh. “Did you think we would wait twelve hours for an introduction! Do come and hear all that has happened.”

Miss Stuart, looking a good deal shaken by her adventures, came forward to meet Mrs. Cartwright. “Listen!” she said dramatically, for Barbara was talking to the policeman.

“No, we would neither of us know him, because neither my friend nor I ever saw him before. It was dark and he was masked. But he was slight – not a big, rough kind of man – and his hands were soft, but strong as steel. I don’t believe,” she leaned over and whispered, “he could have been a servant, or an ordinary burglar.”

“We have discovered, miss, that no entrance was made from the outside. Any guests who left the hotel this morning will be followed and examined. The chief will report to you later,” the policeman said, with a low bow to Miss Sallie.

“Well, is this the way you see a nice, quiet, old college town?” Mrs. Cartwright inquired. “I suppose you mean to take the next train for home.”

“No such thing!” retorted Ruth, smiling, and looking as bright and fresh as ever. “We don’t mind a few weeny adventures, do we, Aunt Sallie?”

Miss Sallie held up her hands in horror. “Weeny adventures! What shall we expect next! However, I’ve promised the girls to go on. I think we need the trip, now, more than ever, and I want to ask Mr. Cartwright to keep the matter as quiet as possible. I do not wish my brother to know.”

“Do please come on,” said Hugh Post, turning to Ruth. “We are going,” he explained, “out to the athletic grounds in our motor cars. The girls came to see the university, and we haven’t shown them a blooming thing.”

“We are going to the dance to-night, just the same,” announced Mollie to Mrs. Cartwright. “Aunt Sallie is to rest this afternoon, so she will be equal to it. We wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright joined the party, and, in a few minutes, the two motor cars had covered the two miles between the college campus and the thirty acres Yale devotes to college sports. The visitors saw the athletic grounds thoroughly; here the football champions of the world had been trained, and there was the baseball diamond.

“Ralph’s the crack oarsman of the lot,” said Donald Cartwright; “but – great Scott! We can’t show these girls anything, after the way they tackled the burglar last night.”

“We’ll get up a regatta in your honor, if you’ll come again next year, Miss Thurston,” said Ralph.

Barbara only laughed at him. “Look out,” she warned. “I may make you keep your promise.”

“Barbara,” said Mollie that night, as they were getting ready for the dance which was to take place in the Old Alumni Hall, “are you sure you feel well enough for the ball to-night?”

“Nonsense, child, why shouldn’t I? I feel as fine as a fiddle. It isn’t doing things that uses one up, even tackling a burglar; it is thinking about them. Ruth and I didn’t have any time to think about our burglar.”

“Well,” said Mollie, a little wistfully, smoothing the folds of her muslin dress, “I don’t believe I am as anxious to go to the dance as I thought I was. Does this dress look very shabby? I wouldn’t go, now, only it seems kind of hateful of me to refuse Mrs. Cartwright’s invitation.”

“Now, Molliekins,” Barbara answered quite seriously, “it’s your dress, isn’t it? Of course, I have thought about mine, too. These are just simple muslins that we have worn before; but, when we left home, we neither of us dreamed we would go to a party in them. Let’s just make the best of things. Anyhow, I’ve made up my mind to one thing, and I wish you would, too. You and I must not worry about being poor while we are on this trip. Let us not pretend that we are rich, because everybody we meet seems to be. Ruth knows we are poor, knows about our little cottage and not keeping a servant, and she doesn’t mind. I don’t believe really nice people care whether young girls are rich or poor, if they happen to like them. I don’t mean to preach.” Barbara put her arm around Mollie and waltzed her around the room. “Let us pretend we are both Cinderellas before the arrival of the fairy godmother.”

Mollie didn’t answer; but she tucked some pink roses in her belt. “It doesn’t really matter about me, anyway,” she decided. “I can’t expect these grown-up boys to dance with me. I will just stay by Miss Sallie.”

“All right, little Miss Wall-flower,” laughed Bab, as she pinned on a knot of blue that Ralph Ewing had asked her to wear, as a tribute to the Yale colors.

It was Mollie, after all, who was the belle of the party. Perhaps this was because the other girls whispered to their partners that Mollie was afraid nobody would dance with her; or, perhaps, because she was the youngest, and the best dancer among them all.

“I am going to take this little lady under my special protection at Newport,” Mrs. Cartwright said to Miss Stuart, late that evening. “I don’t mean my ‘butterfly girl’ to be losing her beauty sleep.”

Mollie looked at her “lovely lady” with eyes as blue as myrtle blossoms. Mrs. Cartwright was so exquisite, so young and so wealthy, she seemed to Mollie to have stepped out of a book.

Miss Sallie was vainly trying to collect her four charges all at once, in order to take them home.

“Aunt Sallie,” Hugh Post said roguishly, as that lady made a last determined stand, and gathered her girls together, “you know, from your experience yesterday, that Miss Ruth can’t handle a motor car, even though she can tackle a burglar. So we are going to follow you in my automobile to-morrow and see that you get to New London all right.”

“Oh, no, you’re not,” protested Ruth. “This I will have you know is an automobile girls’ excursion and nary a man allowed.”

“This one time, kindly permit us to follow you at a respectful distance, won’t you?” Hugh urged. “It’s only a short trip to New London. To tell you the truth, the governor’s yacht is over there and I hope to be able to persuade you to go aboard. It is not disrespectful of me, Miss Stuart, to speak so of my father; he was once governor of the state, and he rather likes to be reminded of it. Mother has a number of friends on board the yacht, and we shall be cruising up to Newport in a few days. I think it would be jolly for father and mother to know you.”

CHAPTER X – ENTER GLADYS AND MR. TOWNSEND

“Why, Gladys Le Baron, this is a surprise!” gayly said Grace Carter next afternoon, when the two parties of girls and men had left their automobiles and had come aboard Governor Post’s yacht, the “Penguin,” that lay just outside the New London harbor.

Grace was awaiting her turn to be introduced to her host and hostess, when she spied Gladys, in a pale blue flannel suit and a cream felt hat, strolling down the deck, looking very much at home.

“How ever did you get here?” queried Grace, smiling.

Gladys gave Grace’s cheek an affected peck with her lips.

“I have a better right to ask that question of you,” Gladys pouted, “only I am not surprised. Harry Townsend came over from New London, yesterday, and told me you had arrived the night before. He went over with Hugh for the dance, but I didn’t feel like going, so he came back early yesterday morning. I am amazed Hugh did not speak of it to you.”

“Oh, Mr. Post didn’t know we had ever heard of Harry Townsend, or you either. We met most unexpectedly, and we had plenty of excitement of our own. I must tell you about it.”

At this moment, Hugh came over for Grace to introduce her to his mother.

“This is Miss Carter, mother,” he said. “Will you introduce her to Mrs. Erwin and father? She seems to know Gladys already.”

Harry Townsend had seen the newcomers, and came forward to speak to them with his most charming manner.

“Say, Townsend,” challenged Hugh, “what made you run away from us? We thought, of course, you’d stay over for the dance. Thought that was your plan in going over to New Haven.”

Harry turned to Miss Stuart. “I heard of your arrival in New Haven, the other evening,” he said. “The fellows told me of your experiences; but I got away from the hotel too early next morning to pay my respects.”

“Then you didn’t hear of the burglar, did you?” queried Hugh.

In spite of Miss Sallie’s protestations the whole story had to be gone over again.

Barbara was talking to Ralph Ewing and had not looked at Harry Townsend during the conversation, until he came over to speak to her.

“I have half an idea, Miss Thurston,” he said, “that you do not like me, and I am sorry. I was looking forward to our having good times together at Newport, as I am to be Mrs. Erwin’s guest, with your cousin Miss Le Baron. Mrs. Post asked us on for the yacht trip a day or two sooner than we expected. We are all going up to Newport together.”

“Mr. Townsend,” said Barbara, her usually laughing, brown eyes now steadfast and serious, “I wonder why you think I do not like you?”

“Miss Stuart,” begged Mrs. Post, after the governor had conducted the party over his trim little craft, “you must stay and dine with us on board the yacht to-night. I refuse to take no for an answer. I wish I could keep you over until morning, but unfortunately the yacht is too small.”

Miss Sallie protested. No; they couldn’t think of it. They had come aboard only for a call, and must get back to their hotel before night. But Hugh swept all her arguments aside. He was an adored only son, and accustomed to having his own way. To tell the truth, Miss Sallie was not averse to the idea of staying; it was pleasant to be meeting Newporters in advance. Miss Stuart was a woman who thought much of appearances, and of this world’s goods, and their new acquaintances seemed to have plenty of both.

“It’s an ill wind,” she thought to herself, “and I must say, for my young niece, that she has a habit of falling on her feet.”

But aloud Miss Sallie accepted the invitation with much decorum.

On the deck aft, where the young people had gathered, there was much laughter.

Gladys was really pleased to see Ruth. As for her cousins, they were a bore, but she had no idea of being openly rude to them. She simply meant to ignore them.

It was not easy to disregard two such popular girls. Barbara and Mollie seemed to be well able to get on without her patronage. Barbara was already smiling and chattering with Governor Post, while the boys described her mad ride of two days before.

“Father,” said Hugh, “I forgot to introduce you to Miss Thurston by her proper title, ‘Miss Paul Revere.’”

“Harry,” asked Gladys, as they stood on the outside of the circle, “don’t you think it is disgusting the way that forward cousin of mine always manages to put herself before the public?”

“Well,” said Mr. Townsend – was there a little admiration in his tone? – “she seems to have plenty of grit.”

It was really Mollie, not Barbara, who saw through Gladys’s treatment of them. Barbara was too open-hearted and boyish to notice a slight, unless it was very marked.

Gladys had asked Ruth and Grace to her stateroom, and Mrs. Post had put the other two girls into her unoccupied guest chamber. It was a little gem of a stateroom, upholstered in pale green to relieve the glare from the water.

“Bab,” Mollie chuckled, rubbing her cheeks until they were pink, “do you remember the story of ‘The Water Baby’?”

“Yes,” Bab answered absently; “I do, after a fashion. But why do you ask? You haven’t turned into a water baby, have you, just because you are on board a yacht for the first time in your life?”

“No,” laughed Mollie. “I was thinking of the story in it of the salmon and the trout. Have you forgotten it?”

“Of course I have,” admitted Barbara.

Mollie chuckled gleefully. “Our high and mighty cousin, Gladys, reminds me very much of the salmon, who thought the trout a very common fish, and disliked him all the more because he was a relation. Feel like a trout, Bab?”

“Not at all, Mollie; but do hurry and go out on deck. That young freshman, who came down in the automobile with us to amuse you, is wandering around outside, looking frightened to death. You must go and talk to him.”

As Barbara stepped into the big salon, which was fitted up like a library, she saw one of the young men disappear quickly through the open door. Bab went over to their wraps, which they had dropped in a heap on a couch when they boarded the yacht, and selected her own jacket. Ruth’s pocketbook was in full view among their belongings, and Bab covered it over before she went on deck.

Before dinner ended the moon had risen, the pale crescent hanging like a slender jewel in the sky.

Barbara was standing alone, for a second, when Mrs. Erwin approached her.

“Pardon me, dear,” she said, “but did you or your sister see a small pin on the dressing table of the guest room, when you went in there before dinner? I have misplaced a ruby and diamond circle of no great value. I went into the guest chamber this morning, while the maid was cleaning my room, and I thought perhaps I had laid it down in there.”

“No,” said Bab, frowning. It did seem curious how losses were following them! “I didn’t look, although it was probably there. I am most unobservant. I will ask my sister.”

“No, no,” said Mrs. Erwin, hastily; “please don’t. I shall probably find it again. I don’t want Mrs. Post to hear.”

The next morning, when Grace and Ruth were donning their best motor veils and coats, Ruth suddenly looked surprised and began to search hurriedly through her pocketbook.

“Grace,” she said, “I can’t find fifty dollars. I am sure I had it yesterday, because I looked carefully after that wretched burglar had gone, though I knew all my money was safe in my trunk. Now it’s gone!”

Ruth turned her pocketbook upside down. “Don’t tell Aunt Sallie, please,” she begged. “I don’t know what she would say to have this item added to our adventures.”

Miss Sallie’s voice was heard calling from the next room.

“Girls, are we or are we not, going to Newport to-day? I, for my part, wish to spend no more time on the way!”

CHAPTER XI – NEWPORT AT LAST!

The automobile girls were in a flutter of excitement. Another half hour, and they would arrive in Newport!

“Ruth,” said Miss Sallie, “slow up this car a little! Before we enter Newport, I must see to my appearance. To think of all I have gone through since I left Kingsbridge!” Miss Sallie took out a small hand mirror, thoughtfully surveying her own unwrinkled face. “What will you children get me into before we are through with this trip?”

Ruth slowed down obediently.

“Open my bag, Mollie,” said Miss Sallie, decidedly, “and you, Grace, look under the seat for my other hat. We shall probably arrive in Newport at five o’clock, the hour for the fashionable parade. I, at least, shall do what I can to give our car an appearance of gentility. I advise you children to do the same.”