A CALL FOR ASSISTANCE
Ada Waltham did all she could to make herself agreeable to Sam and the others, but the youngest Rover was in no mood for raillery, and on the way back to Larkinburg had but little to say.
Chester Waltham had lost no time in assisting Grace into his runabout and in getting his car out of the congestion in the parking space. Then he put on speed, and soon the pair were whirled away out of the sight of the others.
“It’s a dandy night for a ride,” was Tom’s remark. There was some moonshine, and the stars glittered clear in the heavens overhead.
“That is true, Tom,” answered his wife, “but don’t you think we had better get back to the hotel and go to bed? I heard Dick say something about a long day of it tomorrow.”
“Oh, yes, Nellie, we’ll get back. It wouldn’t be fair to go off and leave mother and Mrs. Stanhope alone.”
When they reached the hotel at Larkinburg the Rovers expected to find the Waltham runabout in the garage, and they were consequently somewhat surprised when they saw no sign of the machine.
“We certainly couldn’t have passed them on the road,” observed Dick. He turned to his youngest brother. “You didn’t see them, did you?”
“No. They went on ahead,” answered Sam, shortly; and his manner of speech showed that he was thoroughly out of sorts.
Having placed the touring cars in the care of the garage keeper, the Rovers joined the others on the piazza of the hotel. Then Dora slipped upstairs to see if her mother and Mrs. Laning were all right. She found both of them sleeping soundly, and did not disturb them.
Sam could not content himself with sitting down, and so lounged around in one place and another, and finally said he would go inside and write a letter to the folks at home. He was still writing when Tom came in to join him.
“Sam, did Chester Waltham say anything about where he was going to take Grace?” asked Tom, as he sat down beside his brother.
“No, he didn’t say a word to me,” was the short reply, and Sam went on writing.
“Did Grace say anything?”
“No.”
Tom said nothing for a moment, drumming his fingers on the writing table. At last he heaved something of a sigh.
“Seems to me if they were going on a long ride they might have said something to us about it,” he observed. “Nellie is rather worried.”
“Oh, I guess they’ve got a right to take a ride if they want to,” came rather crossly from Sam. He finished his letter with a flourish, folded it, and rammed it into an envelope which he quickly addressed.
“Oh, of course, but—” Tom did not finish, and as Sam, after stamping his letter, arose, he did the same. “I wonder if we had better stay up for them.”
“I think I’ll go to bed.”
“Sam!” and Tom looked sharply at his younger brother.
“Well, what’s the use of staying up?”
“A whole lot of use, Sam Rover, and you know it. If I were you I wouldn’t let Chester Waltham ride over me.”
“Who says I am letting him ride over me?” retorted Sam; and now his manner showed that he was quite angry.
“I say so,” answered Tom, bluntly. “If you have got half the sand in you that I always thought you had, you wouldn’t stand for it. All of us know how matters were going on between you and Grace. Now to let this fellow step in, even if he is a young millionaire, is downright foolish. If you really care for Grace it’s up to you to go in and take her.”
“Yes, but suppose that she cares for Waltham and his money more than she cares for me?” asked Sam, hesitatingly.
“Do you think Grace is the kind of a girl to be caught by money, Sam?” and now, as the two were in a deserted part of the hallway, Tom took his brother by both arms and held him firmly.
“N—no, I—I can’t say that exactly,” faltered Sam. “But just the same, why does she favor him at all?”
“Maybe it’s because you haven’t been as outspoken as you ought to be. It’s one thing for a girl to know what you think of her, but just the same the average girl wants you to tell her so in plain words. Now, it may not be any of my business, but you know that I want you to be happy, and that I am unusually interested because of Nellie. It seems to me if I were you I’d go to Grace the first chance I had and have a clear understanding.”
“I—I can’t go to her now. She’s out with Waltham,” stammered Sam.
“Then hang around until they get back and see to it that you have a chance to talk with her before she goes to her room,” returned Tom; and then, as some other people came up, the conversation had to come to an end.
A half hour passed and Ada Waltham excused herself. “Chester and Grace must be having a fine ride,” she observed on retiring, “otherwise they would have returned by this time.”
“Maybe they had a breakdown,” observed Dick. “I’ve been told that some of the roads around here are far from good.”
“Oh, don’t say that!” cried the girl. “Chester hates to have to make any repairs when he is alone. Time and again he has run to a garage on a flat tire rather than put another one on himself.”
Another half hour dragged by, and now Dora turned to whisper to Dick.
“Don’t you think we had better retire?” she asked. “I never supposed Grace was going to stay out as late as this.”
“No, we’ll stay up,” he answered. “Nellie has told Tom that she isn’t going to bed until her sister gets back, so it won’t do for us to leave them here on the piazza alone.”
“Mr. Rover! Telephone call for Mr. Rover!” came the announcement from a bellboy, as he appeared upon the piazza.
“Which Mr. Rover?” demanded Sam, eagerly.
“The party said any of ’em would do,” answered the bellboy.
“I’ll go,” said Sam, eagerly, before either of his brothers or their wives could speak.
“All right, Sam. I’ll follow in case you want me or any of the others,” answered Tom.
The telephone booths were located in the lobby of the hotel, and Sam was quickly shown to one of them. While he talked Tom stood by, but caught only a few words of what was said.
“Hello!”
“Oh, is this you, Sam?” came over the wire in Grace’s voice. “I’m so glad! I have been trying to get somebody for the last ten minutes but they couldn’t give me the hotel connection.”
“Where are you?” questioned the youth. “Has anything happened?” for the tone of the girl’s voice indicated that she was very much agitated.
“Oh, Sam! I want you or some of the others to come and get me,” cried Grace. “The runabout has broken down, and I don’t think Mr. Waltham can fix it. And we are miles and miles away from Larkinburg!”
“A breakdown, eh? Why, sure, I’ll come and get you, Grace. Where are you?”
“I am at a farmhouse on the road between Dennville and Corbytown—the Akerson place. If you come, take the road to Dennville and then drive toward Corbytown. We’ll hang a lantern on the stepping block, so you will know where to stop.”
“All right, Grace, I’ll be there just as soon as I can make it,” answered Sam; and then he added quickly: “You weren’t hurt when the breakdown happened, were you?”
“Not very much, although I was a good deal shaken up. Mr. Waltham had his face and his hand scraped by the broken wind-shield.”
“Well, you take good care of yourself, and I’ll start right away,” returned the youngest Rover, and after a few words more hung up the receiver.
It did not take Sam long to acquaint the others with what had occurred, and then he ran down to the hotel garage to get out one of the touring cars.
“Don’t you think I had better go along?” asked Tom. “Chester Waltham may be in a fix and need assistance. And, besides, they may both be more hurt than Grace said.”
“Yes, I gu
ess you’d better come,” answered his brother. And soon, having received directions from the garage keeper as to how to get to Dennville, the pair were on the way.
“How did Grace seem to be when you spoke to her?” questioned Tom, as Sam ran the car as rapidly as the semi-darkness of the night permitted.
“She seemed to be all unstrung,” was Sam’s thoughtful reply.
“Then the accident may have been worse than she admitted, Sam.”
“I hope not, but we’ll soon see.” And then, as a straight stretch of fairly good road appeared before them, Sam turned on the power and the touring car sped onward faster than ever.
Inside of half an hour they reached Dennville, a sleepy little town, located in the midst of a number of hills. All the houses were dark and the stores closed up, and not a soul was in sight. They ran into the tiny public square and there found several signboards.
“Here we are!” cried Sam. “Corbytown four miles this way,” and he pointed with his hand.
“We’ll look at the other signboards first to see whether there is another road,” answered his brother. But there was only the one, and so Sam turned the touring car into this, and they sped forward once more, but now at a reduced rate of speed, for the road was decidedly hilly and far from good.
“What possessed Waltham to take such a road as this,” remarked Tom, after they had passed a particularly bad spot.
“Don’t ask me!” was the reply. “It’s no wonder he had a breakdown if he took this road on high speed.”
They were going up a long hill. At the top a large and well-kept farm spread out, and, beyond, the hill dropped away on a road that was worse than ever.
“Hello! there’s a light!” cried Tom, as they approached the house belonging to the farm.
“I see it,” answered his brother; and in a few seconds more they ran up to the horse-block and brought the touring car to a standstill, Sam, at the same time, sounding the horn.
But the summons was unnecessary, for their approach had been eagerly looked for by Grace, and hardly had the machine come to a standstill when she flew out of the farmhouse to meet them.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come!” she burst out. “If you hadn’t, I don’t know what I should have done!” She was somewhat hysterical and on the verge of tears.
“Are you sure that you’re not hurt, Grace?” asked Sam, quickly; and as he spoke he caught her by one hand and placed an arm on her shoulder.
“I—I don’t think I am hurt, Sam,” she faltered, and then looked rather tearfully into his face. “But it was an awful experience—awful!” and then as he drew a little closer she suddenly burst into a fit of weeping and rested her head on his shoulder.
CHAPTER XXVI
SAM FREES HIS MIND
In spite of his fun-loving disposition, Tom Rover was a very wise young man, so as soon as he saw Grace resting on his brother’s shoulder he promptly turned away, to interview the farmer and his wife who lived in the farmhouse and who had answered the girl’s knock on their door.
“I can’t tell much about the accident,” said Mr. Akerson. “Me and my wife were just goin’ to bed when the young lady knocked on the door and begged us to take her in, and then asked if we had a telephone. She said she had been in an automobile breakdown, but she didn’t give us many particulars, except to say that she thought the front axle of the machine was broken.”
“Well, a broken axle is bad enough,” was Tom’s prompt comment. “They are lucky that no necks were broken.”
“The poor girl was dreadfully shook up,” put in Mrs. Akerson. “She just went on somethin’ terrible. I had all I could do to quiet her at first.”
“Didn’t the young man come here with her?” questioned Tom.
“No. She said she had left him down on the road with the machine. She said he was all worked up over the accident.”
“I should think he would be,” returned Tom, and said no more on the subject. Yet he thought it very strange that Chester Waltham had not accompanied Grace to the farmhouse and thus made certain that help was summoned.
Tom and his brother had entered the sitting-room of the farmhouse. Next to it was a lit-up dining-room and to this Sam and Grace had walked, the latter between her sobs telling of what had happened.
“Oh, Sam, it was dreadful!” cried Grace. “Mr. Waltham was so reckless. I couldn’t understand him at all. When I said I would ride with him I supposed we were going right back to the hotel. But on the way he said it was too fine a night to go in yet, and begged me to go a little farther, and so finally I consented. Then he drove the car on and on, ever so many miles, until we reached Dennville.”
“But if you didn’t want to go that far, Grace, why didn’t you tell him?”
“I did—several times. But he wouldn’t listen to me. Of course, I didn’t want to act rude, and when I told him to turn back he only laughed at me. Then, when we got to Dennville, and I told him that I positively would not go any farther, he said, ‘Oh, yes, you will. We are going to have a good, long ride. I am going to make you pay up in full for not riding with me before.’”
“The mean fellow!” murmured Sam. “I’d like to punch him for that.”
“Oh, but, Sam! that wasn’t the worst of it,” went on the girl; and now she blushed painfully and hung her head. “Then he started up on this side road and he ran the car as fast as ever. I was dreadfully scared, but he only laughed and told me to enjoy myself, and when the car bumped over some stones, and I was thrown against him, he put his arm around me and—and he did his best to kiss me!”
“What!”
“But I didn’t allow it. I pushed him away, and when he laughed at me I told him that if he tried it again I would box his ears. Then, just after we had passed this place, he reached over and caught hold of me and tried to pull me toward him. Then I boxed him, just as I had said I would. That made him furious, and he put on a burst of speed, and the next minute there was a terrible bump and a crash, and both of us were almost thrown out of the car. The wind-shield was broken and also, I think, the front axle, and he was scratched in several places. Oh, it was awful!” And again Grace hid her face on Sam’s shoulder.
“Well, it served him right if he got hurt and if his runabout was ruined,” was the youth’s comment. He drew Grace closer to him than ever. “Then you didn’t really care for him?” he whispered.
“Oh, Sam, Sam! how can you ask such a question?” she murmured.
“Because I didn’t know. I thought— You see, he—he is a millionaire, and—”
“Why, Sam Rover! do you think that money would make any difference to me?” and now she raised her face to look him full in the eyes.
“I am mighty glad to know it hasn’t made any difference,” he returned quickly; and then caught and held her tight once more.
“I suppose you young men are goin’ back to help the fellow with his busted machine,” remarked Mr. Akerson to Tom.
“I—I suppose so,” returned Tom, slowly, and then looked toward Sam and Grace.
“Oh, I don’t want to go back!” cried the girl, quickly. “I want to return to the hotel in Larkinburg.”
“All right, I’ll take you back, Grace,” answered Sam. “If you say so, we’ll leave Waltham right where he is.”
“I think it would be the right thing to do, Sam, under ordinary circumstances,” was the reply. “But then we mustn’t forget about Ada. She will be greatly worried if I come back and let her know that we left her brother out here on the open road with a broken machine.”
“I’ll tell you what we’ll do, Grace. You stay here and Tom and I will go down and see what Waltham has got to say for himself.” He turned to the people of the house. “She can stay here a little longer, can’t she? We’ll make it all right with you.”
“Certainly she can stay,” answered Mr. Akerson. “And there won’t be anything to
pay outside of the telephone toll, and that’s only twenty cents.”
“Please don’t stay too long,” implored Grace, as the two Rovers hurried away.
“Not a minute longer than is necessary,” returned Sam.
On the way down the hill to where the accident had occurred Sam gave his brother the particulars of the affair, not mincing matters so far as it concerned Chester Waltham.
“I was thinking that that was about the way it would turn out,” was Tom’s dry comment. “With so much money, Waltham thinks he can do about as he pleases. I reckon now, Sam, you are sorry you didn’t talk to Grace before.”
“I sure am, Tom!” was the reply, and Sam’s tones showed what a weight had been taken from his heart. “I’m going to fix it up with Grace before another twenty-four hours pass.”
“That’s the way to talk, boy! Go to it! I wish you every success!” and Tom clapped his brother on the shoulder affectionately.
Even though all the lights were out, it did not take the two Rovers long to locate the disabled runabout, which rested among some stones on the side of the highway. As Grace had stated, the wind-shield was a mass of smashed glass, and the front axle had broken close to the left wheel.
“They can certainly be thankful they didn’t break their necks,” was Tom’s comment, as he walked around the wreck.
“Waltham doesn’t seem to be anywhere around here,” returned Sam. “Wonder where he went to?”
Both looked up and down the highway, and presently saw a figure approaching from down the road. It proved to be Chester Waltham. He was capless and walked with a limp.
“Hello! Who are you?” challenged the young millionaire, and then as he drew closer he added: “Oh, the Rovers, eh? Did Grace get you on the ’phone?”
“She did,” answered Sam, and then added sharply: “You’ve made a nice mess of it here, haven’t you?”
“Say, I don’t want any such talk from you,” blustered the rich young man. Evidently he was in far from a good humor.
“I’ll say what I please, Waltham, without asking your permission,” continued the youngest Rover. “You had no right to bring Miss Laning away out here against her wishes. It was a contemptible thing to do.”
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