these days, only contains ten nuts that lifts them out of the cheap class," laughed Hester.
"And makes them a luxury, eh?" added Judith.
By the time the peanuts were gone, Jim signaled the girls and they hurried back to the garage. It took but a moment for them to jump in and urge Jim to hurry after Verny's car, somewhere in the lead.
Mile after mile of beautiful woodland, with now and then a small town, but with many flourishing farms along the way, were reeled off rapidly as the machine sped along as if on wings. Finally they reached a crossroad where the signboard warned them: "All travel limited to eight miles per hour."
"Slow down, Jim, or you'll land us in a county jail," called Ruth.
"Then Mrs. Vernon must be in jail – 'cause she ain't in sight along the road, and to get as far as this she had to speed," declared Jim.
"It's funny she wouldn't stop to find out what became of us, when we dropped so far behind," ventured Hester.
"They'll look us up at mealtime, never fear," laughed Anne. "We've got the hamper with us, you know."
The others laughed at this remark, but they had not gone much farther along the road before they spied the Vernon automobile waiting under a great oak tree. When the tardy car came up, both parties began to shout, some asking where the delinquents had been, and the unfortunates to demand why folks wouldn't look behind once in a while!
Finally Jim could make himself heard, and he explained about the spring and where they had to stop to replace the old one.
"Well, we stopped to discuss ways. We ought to decide the route we want to take before we reach Jersey City," said Mrs. Vernon.
"Which is the route you'd chose, Verny?" added Ruth.
"Well, we can save a lot of time by going along to Edgewater and cross on the Fort Lee boat. That takes us right to 130th Street and Broadway, New York. We avoid all crowds and city streets, but you will not see anything of the life and bustle of New York City."
"How much time will we save?" asked Julie.
"Because we've lost so much over that old spring," added Ruth.
Mrs. Vernon smiled. "From upper New York we can drive right onto the State Road that runs direct to Albany. By selecting that way we will save a great deal of time, because traffic in the city is so congested that every driver has to travel slow and fall in line back of endless cars. At every corner when the signal holds up the entire line one has to stop to permit crosstown traffic a chance."
"Then for goodness' sake, let's go through the country on this side of the Hudson, and cross where you said – Fort Lee Ferry," declared Julie.
Every one agreeing to this decision, the plan was carried out as outlined by the Captain. Once on Broadway, where it passes Van Cortlandt Park, the girls called to Mrs. Vernon.
"How about lunch – we're famished?"
"Oh, don't let's stop here for lunch. Let's go on till we find a nicer spot in the country," returned Joan.
"Maybe there won't be any better place," demurred Judith.
"Oh, yes, there is. After we leave Yonkers we will find lots of spots, Verny says," called Julie, from the first car.
"We need a shady place where a spring will give us water," said Betty.
"A spring failing to bubble up at the proper place, we may have to be satisfied with a pump at some farmhouse," retorted her sister.
The two cars sped swiftly along Broadway, through Yonkers, Hastings-on-Hudson, and Dobb's Ferry. At this last place the Captain pointed out the famous old Headquarters used by General Washington at the close of the Revolution.
"Girls, there doesn't seem to be any picnic grounds for us along this State Road," remarked Mrs. Vernon. "Suppose we take a bite as we travel along, and cook a regular dinner when we are out in the country somewhere?"
"We're willing, in fact, I am more than willing to eat," called Anne, the scout with the healthy appetite.
So they drove on while refreshments were passed around, and every one admired the river scenes of the ever-changing panorama of the Hudson.
Just beyond Peekskill the road ran under a culvert and a sharp turn on the other side made it impossible to see what was on the road ahead. The Captain made the turn very neatly and Jim was about to follow the leading car, when several shrill cries from the girls ahead caused him to put on the emergency brakes.
The passengers in the second car could just see what had caused the frightened shouts from their friends in the first car. A gaunt farm horse was standing on his hind legs pawing the air madly, while a rickety old spring wagon seesawed uncertainly on the edge of a deep ditch beside the road. But the driver of the horse was on the road, hanging on to the bridle while plying a stout hickory stick freely over the animal's back.
"Git down! Will yuh come to arth, yuh rascal?" shouted the irate woman who was garbed in a man's farm hat and a long duster.
"Do you need any assistance?" called Mrs. Vernon, anxiously.
"Not ef I kin git him to plant his feet on arth agin. He ain't got no spunk left to run away, 'cause he's ben out plowing all day, and it w'ar a shame to drive him to the store. But it hed to be, 'cuz the ole man tuk t'other hoss to go to a meetin'."
As the unusual character talked, she tugged at the bridle until she finally had the horse quieted down again. Then he allowed his long ears to droop lazily, his spine to sag in the middle, and his erstwhile springy legs to bend as if he felt too weary to stand up.
The woman with the weather-beaten face and toughened hands was a fluent speaker, even though she paid little attention to the latest style in dress for women. She leaned against the shaft of the wagon and plied her questions to the tourists as freely as she had plied the hickory stick to the horse.
"Be you-all out fer a lark?" asked she, eyeing the number of girls in both cars.
Jim thought to move his car gradually along the road so the scouts in his charge could join in the conversation with the woman. But the moment the horse saw the automobile crawling towards him, he jumped aside. The wagon-wheel turned suddenly and the unexpected happened; the woman who had been leaning heavily on the wheel was unceremoniously dropped to a sitting posture in the dusty road.
Several of the scouts had to smother with handkerchiefs, a keen desire to laugh, but the owner of the horse seemed to take the situation good-naturedly.
"Wal, ef that ain't jus' like Samson! He does the mos' onexpected tricks, so's that he keeps us guessin' what next."
Jim sprang out of the car when he saw the result of his innocent action with the engine, but the agile woman was up before he could reach her side. She brushed the dust from her long coat and chuckled aloud: "I allus said that animal oughter be called Delilah 'cuz she was so sly, but my ole man says 'Samson' was close enough to that critter, and this animal hez such long hair that it suits with the name."
"You've just had him clipped, I see," ventured Mrs. Vernon.
"Not clipped, Captain – but shorn of his locks like Samson," laughed Julie.
"Maybe that's why he feels so tired," added Joan, quickly.
Every
