The Automobile Girls at Chicago: or, Winning Out Against Heavy Odds

"That's the man from number thirteen," whispered Barbara over her shoulder to Mollie. He glanced up, met Barbara's eyes and smiled.

"I am very glad to see that you weren't seriously hurt," said Bab.

The young man rose, supporting himself by the back of the chair.

"Are these your seats?" he asked.

"Yes, but please do not disturb yourself," urged Bab, taking a seat across the aisle. The young man leaned toward her.

"You are Miss Thurston, are you not?" he asked.

Barbara nodded, flushing a little.

"I have been told that I practically owe my life to you. The fire was nothing but a smoulder of the carpet, but I was slowly being asphyxiated. Thirty minutes more and it would have been all up with me. Even had I been rescued too late to get this train it would have been serious for me. My presence in Chicago to-day is imperative. I might say that it involves my whole future. You see, my dear young lady, you have done more for me than you perhaps realize. You are going to Chicago?"

"Yes; we are going on a visit to our friends, Mr. Robert Stuart and his daughter."

"Robert Stuart!" exclaimed the young man. Then his face grew hard.

Suddenly the conversation that she had overheard the previous night flashed into the mind of Barbara Thurston. The color left her face. The young man's keen eyes observed her change of expression. He shot a sharp glance of inquiry at her.

"I have a slight acquaintance with Mr. Stuart and his daughter," he said coldly. "I also know intimate friends of theirs, Mr. and Mrs. Presby and their daughter. Therefore I may have the pleasure of meeting you again. I think perhaps I had better lie down and rest for the remainder of the journey. By the way," he continued, after a slight hesitation, "did you perchance discover a bundle of papers when you found me in the compartment on the other car?"

"Oh, I beg your pardon!" exclaimed Bab. "I did find some papers. They are in my bag. I picked them up from the floor of the car thinking they might be of value to you."

Slightly confused, Barbara opened her bag, and after turning over its contents drew forth a bundle of papers held together with rubber bands. She handed the bundle to the young man.

The smile that lit up his face as he thanked her changed his expression completely. It was almost a gentle smile, and seemed strangely out of place on that cold, calculating face.

"Here is my card. I am rated as a cold, heartless man. But, my dear Miss Thurston, I have at least one virtue – gratitude. If ever you are in need of assistance in any way do not hesitate to call upon me," he said, extending a hand to Barbara as he rose rather unsteadily to his feet. Bab mechanically dropped the card into her bag without looking at it, closing and dropping the bag on the floor beside her before accepting the hand. The touch of the cold fingers of the man's hand sent a feeling of dislike through her. It recalled to her mind more vividly than ever the conversation she had overheard in the sleeper.

"I hope I never shall see him again," muttered Barbara, just as Miss Thompson came smiling up to them. But Barbara Thurston was destined to see the man whom she had rescued, though under circumstances that she little dreamed of at the present moment.

CHAPTER III

A DIZZY ROUND OF PLEASURE

THE train stopped at Englewood for a moment and then pulled out again for the Union Station. The girls already knew that they were in Chicago, and were feverishly gathering up their wraps. Bab was drawing on her overshoes when two warm hands were suddenly pressed over her eyes.

"Guess who it is?" cried Grace, after she and Mollie had uttered little smothered exclamations of delight.

"It's my Ruth! Oh, Ruth, Ruth!" cried Barbara, springing up and flinging both arms about the neck of Ruth, fairly smothering her friend with kisses. Ruth and her father had gotten on at Englewood to welcome their young friends.

"You dear, dear 'Automobile Girls,'" cried Ruth, now clasping the three girls one after another in a tight embrace.

"Am I to be left out of this entirely?" questioned Ruth's father in an aggrieved tone.

The girls disengaged themselves from Ruth's arms and fairly pounced upon Mr. Robert Stuart.

"Oh, how is dear Aunt Sallie and Mr. A. Bubble?" laughed Barbara, her eyes shining with joy.

"Aunt Sallie is waiting to greet you at our home. Mr. A. Bubble is outside growling over your delay in getting to Chicago," smiled Mr. Stuart.

"We received your telegram," said Mr. Stuart, as they left the Union Station. "For a time we were considerably upset. Later we saw an account of the wreck in the morning paper. We did not learn that anyone was injured."

"What caused it? Wasn't it awful?" questioned Ruth, gazing at her friends admiringly. "And to think I wasn't there to share the honor of being mixed up with a railroad wreck. Too bad," she pouted.

"It wasn't a wreck, it was a shake-up," answered Grace.

"I am glad you were not with us. Who knows what might have occurred," answered Bab soberly. "Oh, there is Mr. Bubble," she cried, her serious expression changing to a happy smile as she ran forward to the puffing red automobile and patted it affectionately. A thin curl of blue smoke was rising from the exhaust of the motor car.

"Hear him purr his delight," cried Mollie. "He's just like a contented kitten for all the world," she laughed. "He isn't grumbling at all."

"He was grumbling loudly enough when we left him," answered Mr. Stuart.

"That's because he was cold. But we will warm Mr. A. Bubble up on our way home," declared Ruth. This she did, keeping a wary eye out for traffic policemen who might claim that she was exceeding the speed limit. But Ruth knew fairly well where to look out for a traffic man and where not to look for him. Up Dearborn Street to Madison Street the car whirled, the sharp air putting color in the faces of the girls and making their eyes sparkle.

Bab kept stealing perplexed glances at Mr. Stuart. Something was on the young woman's mind, but she did not give expression to the thought. In the meantime the girls were chattering at a rapid rate. Through Madison Street they traveled and into Michigan Avenue, where a gust of biting wind fresh from Lake Michigan smote them in the face.

"Oh, look at the river!" cried Mollie.

"That's Lake Michigan, you goose," answered Ruth, laughing merrily. "How insulting to call our lake a river. But here we are."

The car swung into a driveway, coming to a halt before an imposing residence, four stories high, overlooking the lake.

"What is this great building?" questioned Mollie.

"This is where we live, dear," answered Ruth. "This is my home."

"Oh, dear me, I thought it was the Chicago public library," retorted Mollie.

"Molliekins, what are we going to do with you?" chided Ruth, laughing.

The other girls were already running up the broad stone steps. The doors swung open and the next second Barbara, Mollie and Grace threw themselves into the arms of Miss Sallie Stuart. There was a volley of little screams of delight and any number of resounding smacks. Mr. Stuart had followed them in. He stood with his back to the door, smiling contentedly on the joyous scene. He had come to love the three girls with a love that was not far behind his affection for his own daughter Ruth.

The girls having released Miss Sallie from their embrace, Ruth dragged her friends upstairs. They were first shown to their own rooms, and wonderful rooms they were. None of the three girls from Kingsbridge ever had seen anything to compare with the beauty of these handsome apartments. A few minutes later they were in Ruth's private sitting room, the walls of which were done in pale blue silk. The furniture was of old mahogany and on a dainty writing desk the girls found paper and envelopes bearing the monogram "A. G." Ruth had had these prepared for the girls' use.

"Now, girls," she said, "are you too fatigued after your exciting experiences to go out this evening?"

"No, indeed," cried the three girls in chorus.

"Then listen! Father has taken a box at the opera for this evening. We are to hear Romeo and Juliet – "

"Oh, how perfectly lovely," bubbled Mollie.

"That reminds me, Molliekins, that I received a note from your 'lovely lady,' Mrs. Cartwright, yesterday. She asked me to tell you to look for a diamond butterfly at the opera to-night. She thought that might help you to locate an old friend."

Mollie smiled happily. At this juncture there came a light tap at the door and a well-known gentle voice asked, "may I come in?"

Miss Sallie was assisted into the room somewhat faster than she considered dignified, but there was no resisting her "Automobile Girls." After getting her breath she sank into an easy chair, the girls surrounding her.

"I want to consult with you about our plans," she said. "We wish to make this reunion one that you will remember all the rest of your lives. Our cousins, the Presbys, wish you to spend some time with them. Olive Presby, their daughter, is especially desirous of having you there. You will find her a charming girl and I am sure you will all fall in love with her at sight. What do you say?"

"About the falling in love?" questioned Mollie innocently.

"No, no, Molliekins," rebuked Ruth. "About the invitation, of course."

"I am sure we shall be well pleased with whatever arrangements have been made for us," said Grace.

"Yes, indeed," added Barbara.

"I am between fire and water," declared Ruth laughingly, as she dropped into a chair before the fireplace. "I want you to stay and I want you to go to the Presbys. I have decided, with your approval, that we shall divide your time between our home and the Presbys' place. First, we will do Chicago, after which we will go to Cousin Jane and Cousin Richard Presby. They have a grand old home and hundreds of acres of grounds surrounding it."

"Are they so very rich?" questioned Mollie.

"On the contrary, they are extremely poor," answered Aunt Sallie, whereat Mollie puckered her brow in perplexity. "Their property is heavily mortgaged. They are in a fair way to lose it unless – "

"Unless what, Aunt Sallie?" asked Bab gently.

"Unless perhaps they may in the meantime find the buried treasure."

The effect of this announcement on Mollie, Barbara and Grace made Miss Sallie smile.

"Buried treasure? Buried treasure! Oh, oh, oh!" they cried in chorus.

"Don't get excited, dears. There is no chance for the 'Automobile Girls,'" interjected Ruth. "I've stirred myself up so many times over that old treasure that I have lost ever and ever so many nights' sleep. Take my advice and forget all about it," she admonished.

"Oh, please tell us about it," urged Mollie.

"A buried treasure? How perfectly delightful!" sparkled Barbara.

"I haven't time to tell you now. It is a long story. This treasure was buried many years ago by one of the Presbys' ancestors. They will tell you all about it when you go out there, and I am sure Cousin Richard can make the story much more interesting than I could."

This had to suffice for the present, though the girls were burning to hear the story. Anything that savored of adventure appealed to these healthy, outdoor girls, and what could be more adventurous than hunting for a treasure that had been buried for years and years?

The girls' trunks had been brought up, and while they were dressing for the evening, Bab took advantage of the occasion to consult with Ruth about her gown.

Ruth ran forward, flinging her arms about Barbara's neck the instant Bab came into her room.

"Dear, dear old Bab," she breathed, running tender fingers over the shining brown hair of her companion. "You can't know how I have wanted you. It seems years since last I saw you. Answer me truly, dear. How do you think father is looking?"

Barbara's face sobered instantly. Ruth noted the quick change of expression.

"You needn't tell me. I see by your expression what you think," added Ruth quickly, brushing a stray wisp of hair from her face.

"That was what I wished to ask you about, dear," said Barbara. "He looks so worn. What is the trouble? Has your father been ill?"

"No. Not in the sense you mean. Nevertheless, we are greatly worried about him. He has been speculating. We think he has lost a lot of money. He does not speak of his business affairs as he used to do, and that makes us all the more certain that things are not going as they should with him. However, I mustn't speak of these matters now, as I wish you to have the happiest time of your life while you are with us. Why, Barbara Thurston, what a lovely frock!" exclaimed Ruth impulsively.

Barbara flushed with pleasure at the compliment. Her gown was of dark red crepe-de-chine, trimmed in soft folds of liberty velvet. Bab had tucked a single red rose in her hair. Ruth never had seen Bab look more charming.

"It is mother's Christmas present to me," explained Bab, referring to the frock. "I think it very pretty."

"I wish I could look half so well in anything," answered Ruth, but without a trace of envy in her tone. "But I must hurry. If I run on like this we'll never get to the opera."

"I was just about to ask if you mind my running down to chat with your father a few moments before we go?"

"Do, dear. It will do him good. You always act like a tonic on father," smiled Ruth. "He's in the library."

Bab tripped away, holding up her skirts, followed by the admiring eyes of her friend.

"She's such a dear," mused Ruth, beginning the finishing touches of her dressing.

Bab was especially anxious to see Mr. Stuart alone. She wanted to see if she could fathom the cause of his distress. He looked even more tired and careworn than when she had first seen him. She entered the library rather diffidently pausing before Mr. Stuart, who stood near the fireplace.

"Am I intruding?" asked Bab.

"Intruding, my dear? You could not do that. But how beautiful you are to-night."

"Don't. Please don't," protested Bab with well-feigned displeasure. "You will make me a vain little creature. Ruth has just said the same thing to me. At this rate I fear I shall begin to believe something of the sort myself very soon."

"No," answered Mr. Stuart, gazing at her approvingly. "You are far too sensible a young woman to have your head turned so easily as that. Tell me about your good mother. How is she?"

"Quite well, thank you," replied Bab simply.

"I am sorry that she could not come with you. We had hoped to have her with us."

"Yes, we wanted mother to come. She asked me to thank you very kindly for your invitation, but said it would not be possible for her to go so far away from home just now. Perhaps later she may visit you."

"Bab, a good mother like yours is a most priceless treasure. Never forget to value your treasure at its real worth," said Mr. Stuart impressively.

"I do and I trust I always shall, sir," answered Barbara, and Robert Stuart smiled, for he knew that she meant what she said.

Ruth and the other two girls came in at this juncture and the conversation turned on their gowns and the pleasures that were before them that evening. Barbara had not mentioned that she thought Mr. Stuart was looking ill. She would not have ventured to do so, although she was more convinced than before that something very, very serious had come into the life of her friend's father. She wondered if she might not be able to do something to relieve the distress under which he was so plainly laboring.

"There, now, what did I tell you, Bab?" demanded Ruth, entering the library. "Didn't I say you were always a tonic to father?"

Barbara blushed.

"She is indeed, daughter. So are you all. But we must be going. Is your Aunt Sallie ready?"

"She is waiting for us in the reception room," answered Ruth.

"Then we will be off. Be sure that you girls are well wrapped up. You are not used to going out in this climate with such thin gowns. Ruth, where is your cloak?"

"Below, father. I will pick it up on my way down."

Then they started downstairs, Mr. Stuart leading the way. They were joined by Miss Sallie in the hallway and a few minutes later were being borne away by Mr. A. Bubble, who, for this evening at least, was on his best behavior. Reaching the opera house, they were conducted to the box reserved for them. Ruth insisted on her guests occupying the front chairs. How the heads of the three little Kingsbridge girls did swim! Beautiful gowns, beautiful women and dazzling jewels were to be seen wherever the eye rested. It was a brilliant and animated scene, such as none of the three girls ever before had gazed upon, for this was their first visit to the opera.

"Isn't it all wonderful?" said Bab to Ruth.

"Yes, indeed," responded Ruth warmly. "There is nothing quite like an opera night, and I have been particularly interested in grand opera since we discovered Zerlina."

"Oh, to be sure," exclaimed Bab. "Where is Zerlina now?"

"She is in Paris, studying under the best teachers that can be procured for her," replied Ruth. "She writes me regularly. Her teachers give her great encouragement, and she expects to be ready to sing important rôles within the next two years. She adores José, and he is delighted with having so talented a sister."

"She is one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen," said Barbara. "What a wonderful 'Carmen' she will make."

"Yes; won't she, though," responded Ruth eagerly, "and that is the part that she particularly looks forward to singing."

The subject of Ruth's and Barbara's conversation was a beautiful gypsy girl that they had met during their trip along the Hudson. She had become a protegé of Ruth, who had cherished high hopes of sending Zerlina to a conservatory, but had been forestalled by the appearance on the scene of Zerlina's handsome half-brother, José Martinez. On account of family differences, José and Zerlina had been separated for many years, but in the end Zerlina was persuaded by him to place herself under his protection. All of this has been fully narrated in "The Automobile Girls Along the Hudson."

"What do you think of it, Molliekins?" whispered Ruth over Mollie's shoulder.

"Think of it?" breathed the golden-haired Mollie. "I'm so happy that I could scream right out so everybody in the theatre would hear me," answered Mollie. "I don't know what I shall do when the music begins."

A wave of laughter rippled over the box at Mollie's quaint way of expressing her delight.

CHAPTER IV

BATTLE OF THE BULLS AND BEARS

THAT evening at the opera was like a dream to the little Kingsbridge girls. Mrs. Cartwright visited them between the acts, then they were introduced to Olive Presby, who came to their box, accompanied by a young man named Jack Howard, an artist who had just returned from Paris. These two had been chums since childhood.

Bab thought Olive the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. She could not keep her eyes off of her, and Olive appeared to be equally attracted to Barbara, though there was little opportunity for conversation between them. Olive was fully five years older than Barbara with fair skin, black hair, and eyes of deep gray, veiled with long, black lashes, making an unusual and most attractive combination. Olive Presby was a striking looking girl. All through the second act Bab kept gazing across at Olive, and it was with a deep sigh of regret that Barbara finally turned her eyes away under the teasing of Ruth and Grace. The glorious evening came to a close all too soon for them.

Reaching home, the girls lost little time in getting to their rooms, for the three travelers had had little sleep in the past two nights.

They fell asleep almost the instant their heads touched their pillows, but in spite of their late hours the four girls descended to the dining room the following morning bright-eyed and ready for whatever the day might bring forth.

Miss Sallie rustled in, dressed in her silk morning gown a few moments after the others had reached the dining room. The girls greeted her enthusiastically, each girl giving her a hearty hug and kiss, after which they seated themselves at the breakfast table, and a lively chattering ensued.

"What do you think of Cousin Olive?" asked Ruth.

"Oh, I just love her," cried Bab enthusiastically.

A cloud passed swiftly over the face of Ruth Stewart.

"I could love her almost to death. Is she engaged to Mr. Howard?"

"No indeed," said Miss Sallie with emphasis. "Olive is devoted to her parents, especially now that they are in such deep trouble. She is their comfort in their distress and she knows it."

"Young ladies," interrupted Mr. Stuart, "do you feel equal to beginning your sight-seeing to-day?"

"We do," chorused the girls.

"I have so planned my affairs as to have this day free for you. Mr. A. Bubble also is at your disposal. He has had a thorough going over at the hands of his man this morning, and I think you will find him in fine condition."

"Olive Presby is coming to see you this morning, you know," reminded Miss Sallie.

Ruth's face clouded again. Bab's eyes glowed, for she wished to see Olive even more than to explore Chicago.

"We might call her up on the telephone and have her come over so she may go with us," suggested Mr. Stuart.

The girls seconded this proposal enthusiastically, and this was done without delay, Olive promising to come over as soon after breakfast as possible.

"I propose," announced Mr. Stuart, "to take you over to the Board of Trade on La Salle Street to show you the famous Pit."

"Is it a very big hole?" questioned Mollie innocently, whereat a merry laugh rippled all the way around the table.

"The Pit," explained Mr. Stuart, smilingly, "is the place where men buy and sell grain-stuffs. It's the same as stock speculation."

Mollie thought stock speculation was trading in cattle.

"You ridiculous child," exclaimed Ruth. "I'll explain it to you so you will understand it. Now if you want to speculate you order your brokers, for instance, to 'buy a thousand shares of B. Sell five thousand shares of G and ten thousand shares of C.' That's all. Next morning you wake up to find yourself ten or fifteen thousand dollars richer – "

"Or poorer," added Mr. Stuart. "I must say, Ruth, that your explanation is very lucid. Take the girls down to my office, leaving here at half past ten o'clock. I shall have my morning mail disposed of by that time and my day's orders issued, then my time will be at your disposal. Sallie, are you going with the girls?"

"No, thank you. Not this morning. I have seen quite all of Chicago, I think. Besides, I have no love for your horrid Board of Trade. The automobile will be pretty well filled as it is."

"Oh, please come with us," urged Mollie.

Aunt Sallie shook her head smilingly, so it was arranged that the girls should go downtown by themselves, there to be met by Mr. Stuart. Olive bustled in shortly before ten o'clock. She was dressed in a brown tailor-made suit of broadcloth, with furs and hat of mink. She came running up the stairs to Ruth's sitting room, bright and eager, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Here I am," she cried gayly. "I'm going to introduce myself all over again. I'm Olive, girls. I'm a sort of adopted cousin of the 'Automobile Girls.' So this is Bab," she sparkled, giving Barbara's hand a friendly squeeze. "This little yellow-haired girl is Mollie, and the bigger, brown-haired one is Grace. Now I think we are properly introduced. Now what can I do to add to the pleasure of the 'Automobile Girls' this fine morning?"

"I would suggest that you first sit down and compose yourself," replied Ruth with some severity. "How you do run on, Olive."

"Now, I call that downright mean," pouted Miss Presby. "Don't you, Bab?" Olive suddenly bent over Barbara, giving the little Kingsbridge girl an impulsive hug.

Ruth frowned. Bab looked embarrassed. She felt that Ruth resented Olive's affectionate demonstration. It caused the three Kingsbridge girls, however, to lose their awe of Miss Presby, whom they had before looked upon as a superior grown-up person.

"What are the plans for the day, dear?" questioned Olive, turning to Ruth.

"We are first to go to the office to pick up father. He is to take us to the Pit. I don't know where we shall go from there."