The Motor Girls

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The Motor Girls Page 12

by Margaret Penrose


  CHAPTER XII

  A RACE AGAINST TIME

  It was a few days after the visit to Madam Julia that Cora was outalone in the Whirlwind. She had been feeling very unhappy over theloss of Ed's money and the suspicion that naturally attached to heron account of the finding of the empty wallet in her car. She couldnot dismiss the matter from her mind.

  But Ed Foster had done everything in his power to make her feel thatshe was in no wise concerned. He had called and taken dinner withJack, and had announced that, as far as he could see, he feared hewould have to charge the money and bonds up to profit and loss.

  "Principally loss," he remarked with a rueful smile. "I don'tbelieve those detectives will ever get it."

  Jack had offered to go with his sister when she announced that shewas about to take a run in her car, but, with a little nod ofthanks, she declined his company.

  "It's a beautiful morning," she said, "and I want to take a good,long ride by myself, Jack. I want to--think. I feel that the airwill do me more good than anything else."

  Her mother had gone into town, and once his offer was refused, Jacktook a book and declared that he was going to try to work off someof his college conditions. The Robinson girls were at their musiclessons, Cora knew, so he would not call for them. Thus she startedoff alone.

  Down the turnpike she steered the big machine, confident in herability to manage it. There were few autos out, and the highway wasalmost deserted. Her pretty Shaker hood, which had lately come homefrom Madam Julia's, was unbound, and the loose, chiffon strings flewout in the wind like long-legged birds. Turning into a broad avenue,Cora realized that she was on the road leading to the garage whereshe had met Paul Hastings, the handsome chauffeur who had given hersuch valuable information about her car.

  "I must see about getting the mud guard fixed," she reflected, forthe temporary brace that Ed had made, though it had kept the affairin place until the day previous had now come loose. "And this is agood time to have it attended to," thought the girl.

  Paul Hastings was in the little front office. He smiled pleasantlyat the flushed girl as she told her needs, but somehow he seemeddejected--as if something had happened. Even Cora, comparativestranger that she was to him, could not help inquiring the cause ofhis trouble.

  "Is--is there anything the matter?" she asked hesitatingly.

  "Oh--not much. Only I--er--I have just ex experienced quite a loss,and it makes me--blue."

  "That's too bad!"

  "Yes," he went on. "I had an opportunity of getting a first-classposition, but another fellow got ahead of me."

  "How's that?"

  "Well, you see, a firm in New City needs a manager. I have goodbacking, and was almost certain of the place. But another fellow hadjust as good a chance, and it was a question of who got there first.I was delayed here and missed the only train that would bring methere on time. He caught it, and is now on his way there. He'll getthe place and I--won't."

  "But why don't you take a machine and go there? You can do it asquickly as the train can."

  "Take a machine?" he repeated. "I wouldn't dare. I'd be sure tolose my place here, and might not get the other. I haven't a car inthe place I would dare risk taking out on the road. The owners aretoo particular about them, and I can't blame them, either."

  Cora thought for a moment. A daring plan came into her mind.

  "Let me take you," she suggested.

  "Oh, indeed, I would not think of such a thing. I should not havementioned my troubles to you. But they were so--so much to me that Ididn't realize what I was doing. But let me look at your car."

  He soon adjusted the broken bolt of the mud guard, and announcedthat it was now as good as new.

  "But why won't you go in the Whirlwind?" demanded the girl. "I amonly out on a little pleasure spin, and I would be very glad indeedto take you to New City. Besides, I'd like to race with the train,"she went on with sparkling eyes. "I know I could beat it."

  Paul looked interested.

  "I guess you could," he said. "It would be a good chance, anyhow."

  "Come on, then! Don't waste a moment. Let's try it."

  Paul called his assistant, a young lad, and gave him instructionsabout some cars, and what to do if certain customers came in. It wasnot a busy part of the day, and he could leave without causing anycomplications. Then he slipped into his long, linen coat and steppedinto Cora's car.

  "I'm afraid this is an imposition," he declared, taking the steeringwheel, a sort of unconscious habit he had. Then he bethoughthimself. "Oh, but I suppose you'll drive," he added quickly,shifting over, rather abashed at having taken his place in thedriver's seat without being asked. "You see, I'm so accustomed tobeing here."

  "I believe I will drive," answered Cora. "I have great faith in theobedience of my machine. It knows my hand."

  "I shouldn't wonder," agreed the young, man. "I do believe thatmotor-cars can almost be made to think--under the guidance of verygentle but sure hands."

  Paul looked very handsome, Cora thought. He was the type she alwaysadmired--a youth with a bronze complexion--a straight, athleticfigure, almost classic, Cora decided. He cranked up for her,re-entered the car, and they rolled from the garage. Once out on thecountry road Cora threw in the high gear and fed the gasolene with ajudicious hand, controlling the spark admirably.

  "A fine machine!" exclaimed Paul, noting how perfect was the rhythmof action as it thrilled out beneath them.

  "There are friends of mine," said Cora suddenly as a runabout,containing two young then, came into sight. Ed Foster and WalterPennington raised their caps as they dashed by, but they did not goso quickly but that Cora noticed an expression of surprise on theirfaces.

  "Oh, yes, I know them also," remarked Paul. "I've had that machinein the garage."

  "I wonder where they are going?" went on Cora. She also foundherself wondering if Walter and Ed were surprised to see her outalone with a professional chauffeur. It was the first time herconduct in taking Paul with her came forcibly to her mind. Then,with an independence of spirit that characterized her, she decidedshe had no apology or explanation to make.

  "It's hard to say where any person in an auto is going," repliedPaul pleasantly, "and sometimes almost as hard to say when they'llget there."

  "That young man on the right is the one who recently lost twentythousand dollars," observed the girl as she changed to second speedto take a troublesome little hill.

  "So I understand. And wasn't there some mystery connected with it?"

  "Indeed, there was. You know, they found the empty wallet in thetool-box of my car."

  "Yes, so I heard. Quite remarkable. But can't the detectives findout who stole the money and hid the pocketbook there?"

  Cora was grateful for the neat way he put that, to avoid referringto the suspicions that had been cast on her and on her friends.

  "The police don't appear able to do anything," was her answer. "Itdoes seem very strange."

  "Have they inquired of all the people who were on hand at the timeof the robbery--or loss--when, I understand, it was very likely thatthe empty wallet was put in your tool-box?"

  "Oh, yes, they have questioned all of us--and I can tell you thatthey were not any too polite about it, either. I thought I wouldnever get over their quizzing."

  "Well, I suppose they have to be sharp," remarked Paul. "But I'venot yet explained to you the reason why I am in such a hurry and thenature of the position I am after. You see, a firm in New Cityadvertised for a chauffeur to drive their machine across the countryin a big race. I replied, and was as good as engaged. I expected togo over this morning, but some one told me that Sid Wilcox had takenthe early train and was going to beat me out--It's a case of firstcome--get the job, you see."

  "Sidney Wilcox!" exclaimed Cora in astonishment.

  "Yes. You know him, of course. It seems that he wants to make thetrip, and is willing to run the machine without pay. I can't affordto do that, and that gives him an advantage ove
r me. If Sid getsthere first, and offers to do it for nothing, it means that they'lltake him."

  "Well, he'll not get there first!" exclaimed Cora very determinedly.

  Suddenly they both heard the distant whistle of the train. "Thereshe is!" cried Paul; and a little later they caught sight of thecars, flying over the track.

  "We're too late," said Paul.

  "Not yet," answered Cora. "We can take a shorter route, even ifthey can go faster than we can."

  She was already running on third speed, and the motor was takingabout all the gasolene it could use. She adjusted the spark to givethe best service, and now, as an additional means of inducing speed,she cut out the muffler. The explosions of the motor played a tattooon the dusty road.

  "I'm going to turn here!" cried Cora as she swung around a corner."Look out!"

  Paul needed no warning, for he was an expert autoist. The machineskidded a bit and tilted somewhat, but was soon flying down thestraight, level stretch.

  "I cannot understand why Sid Wilcox wants to run in a cross-countryrace--and for nothing," said Cora.

  "Because he knows I want the place. He hates me and wants to maketrouble for me."

  "Is that so? Then we have a double reason for beating him. And Ithink we'll do it. His train has to wait for the accommodation topass it at the junction. We'll gain on him there."

  "That's so."

  "What time is it now?" Cora asked as, with hands firmly gripping thewheel, she leaned forward to peer down the road. She could neithersee nor hear the train now.

  "It's nine-fifty-five," replied the chauffeur. "The train is due atNew City at ten-fifteen."

  "Twenty minutes yet. I'm sure we can make it."

  Cora made that declaration with her cheeks flushing and her brighteyes ablaze with excitement.

  "Won't you, let me take the wheel?" asked Paul. "I am afraid thatthis heavy driving is too much for you."

  "Oh, no, indeed! This is my race, you know. I want to beat him."

  She looked at Paul frankly.

  "Very well. Only don't distress yourself too much--on my account."

  "Don't worry. I love this. At what place in New City do you wishto go?"

  "Directly in the center, next to the bank. The office of theWhitehall Motor Company."

  "Then we'll take this road," decided the girl. "I'm sure it cutsthrough a park, and will bring us out right at the center of thecity."

  "It does, and it's the nearest way. You're getting to be quite adriver."

  "I mean to be. Hark, there's the train again!"

  "Yes, and we're ahead of it!" exclaimed Paul as he caught sight ofthe cars. "We've gained on them!"

  "But they're going down grade, and we have a hill to climb," spokeCora a little despairingly. But she would not give up. On and onrushed the car. There was but five minutes left, and the railroad;station was very close to the building where the automobile concernwas located. Sid's chances were very good--Paul's not quite so muchso.

  "We'll have to be a little careful now," Paul reminded her as theyswung around a curve. "We'll have to go slow through the city."

  "Yes, but I have been counting on that. We still have a fewminutes. Oh, isn't it a pity that a motor isn't like a horse? Whenyou get a machine going just so fast it can't go any faster, but ahorse can always be depended on for a spurt."

  "Yes," answered Paul quietly. He was busy thinking.

  "How many minutes lift now?" asked Cora.

  "Two," was the grim answer.

  With keen eyes, that took note of every obstruction or vehicle thatmight block her, Cora drove her car on. Around corners, and throughbusy streets she piloted it. They were but a block from the centerof the town.

  "There's the train," spoke Paul quietly as the engine pulled intothe station.

  "And we're at the building of the Whitehall auto concern!" exclaimedCora triumphantly a few seconds later, as she guided the car up tothe curb. "Hurry!" she called to Paul. As if he needed to be toldthat!

  He leaped from the car and ran across the pavement to the office.As he entered the door Sid Wilcox, coming leisurely from thedirection of the station, saw him. Sid started, and then, with aquick motion, hurried after Paul. But the chauffeur was ahead ofhim, and the door slammed shut in the face of the owner of theStreak.

  Paul, thanks to Cora's aid, had won the race against time.

  "Oh, I do hope he gets the place," she said as she stopped herengine and prepared to rest while Paul was within the office of themotor company.

 

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