all, so we will not have to come back with the jar."
The paper bundles were finally put into the car, and then, turning back to the woodland road, it was not difficult to find a place suitable to build the camp-fire, and set table on a big stump of a newly-felled tree that Tavia said made her more hungry than ever, for the chips smelt like vinegar and molasses, she declared.
So pleasant was the camp life our friends had embarked upon, they did not notice how far the afternoon was getting away from them, and before they had any inclination to start out on the road again, the sun had rolled itself up into a big red ball, and was sinking down behind the hills.
"Oh, it may be dark before we get back to Dalton," said Dorothy in alarm. "We should have started an hour ago."
"But the potatoes were not done," Tavia reminded her, "and we never could have left without eating them after carrying cords and cords of wood to the oven."
"Get aboard," called Nat, "I'll take the wheel now, Ned. I'm entirely thawed out."
It had certainly been a delightful day, even the accident at the spring was now merely an event to laugh at, while the meal on the big chestnut stump, beside the camp-fire, had been so enjoyable, and now, all that remained was the pleasant ride home. That is all that appeared to remain, but automobile rides, like chickens, should not be counted until all is over, and the machine is safely put up for the night. Chickens have the same tendency as have autos toward surprises – and disappointments.
"There's a hill," remarked Ned, quite unnecessarily, as a long stretch of brown road seemed to bound up in front of them.
"A nice climb," acquiesced Nat. "Now, Birdy, be good. Straight ahead. No flunking now – steady," and he "coaxed" the machine into a slow, even run, that became more and more irksome as the grade swelled.
"But when we get at the top?" asked Tavia.
"We will not stay there long," answered Nat, "for if there is one thing this machine likes to do it is to coast down hill."
The Fire-Bird made its way up the steep grade, and presently, as Nat predicted, turned the hill-crest and "flew" down the other side.
The swiftness of the motion made conversation impossible, for the machine was coasting, the power being off, and surely the Fire-Bird was "flying through the air."
Reaching the level stretch again, Nat threw in the clutch, but a grinding and clanking noise answered his movement of the lever.
"Hello!" called Ned from the rear. "Busted!"
"Something wrong," agreed Ned, looking at the spark and gasoline controllers.
Presently, as the boys expected, the machine slowed up, and then came to a stop.
Both were out at once, and they examined the mechanism together.
"It's the leather facings on the friction clutch," declared Ned. "See that one worn off?"
"Guess that's right," answered Ned. "Well, now for a horse."
"I sold my wheel for an automobile; Get a horse! Get a horse!" sang Tavia, while she and Dorothy climbed out to join the inspection committee.
"Is it bad?" asked Dorothy.
"Bad enough to stall us until we can get it fixed up somewhere," said Ned. "We'll have to take part of the clutch out," and he proceeded to do so.
"Yes, we cannot move until we get a new leather on here," added Nat. "I wonder how far we might be from a blacksmith shop."
"A couple of miles," answered Tavia. "I have often been through this woods."
"Then I suppose," went on Ned, rather dolefully, "there is nothing to be done but 'hike' to the shop."
"You go and I'll stay and take care of the girls," suggested Nat.
"Oh, both go," chimed in Tavia. "You will get back sooner, and you may have some trouble getting it fixed at the shop, for I have been there and I know the man is as deaf as a post and – other things," she finished vaguely. "There is a house just across the fields there and we are not the least bit afraid – "
"If it will hurry the work you had best both go," Dorothy added. "As Tavia says, there is a house in sight, and we could run there if anything came along to scare us."
"Well, trot along Nat," commanded Ned, as he took up the piece of the clutch. "This is sure your busy day. I'll race you to the bend to make good time, and I assure you, young ladies, we will not be one moment longer than necessary away from you."
"We are so very fond of you," joked Nat, "that every moment will be unto us an hour – "
"Oh, come, quit your nonsense, if you are going to run – "
But before Ned had finished, his brother had gained quite a handicap and was making tracks through the glen, and then out again into the open.
"Isn't it lonely," said Dorothy, getting into the disabled machine after the youths were out of sight.
"Not a bit," declared Tavia. "No tramps around here. But such a day! I almost feel as if one more thing must happen. Bad luck goes in threes, you know. One more will surely make up our day – "
"Oh, please don't talk so," and Dorothy shivered. "I do wish we were safely back in Dalton."
"And the boys gone back to the Cedars! Well, I would rather have the ride ahead of me, than to have it all ended. It is so nice to have good times. Sometimes I think I'll just run away, and see what there is to do and observe outside of that stupid old Dalton," exclaimed Tavia.
"Tavia!" and Dorothy's voice betrayed how shocked she was at the very thought of such a thing as "running away." "How can you talk so?"
"Oh, it's all very well for you, Doro. You can have and do as you please; but poor me! I must be content – "
"Tavia, I am sure I heard someone coming!" exclaimed Dorothy.
"Quite likely. This is a common road, you know. We have no fence around it."
"But suppose it should be some rough person – "
"If we don't like his looks when he comes up we can run," said Tavia, coolly.
"And leave the car?"
"Can't take it with us, surely."
For a few moments neither girl spoke. Dorothy had never gotten over the frights she had received when the man Anderson followed her for the purpose of getting information about the Burlock matter, and every trifling thing alarmed her now.
"It's a man," said Tavia, as the form of a heavily-built fellow could now be discerned on the path.
"Oh, and he has that same kind of hat on," sighed Dorothy, referring to the hat previously worn by Anderson.
"And it – really – does look like him! Let's run! We have just about time to get to that house. Come out this side. There, give me your hand," and Tavia, glancing back to the figure in the road, took Dorothy's hand and urged her on over the rough path, until Dorothy felt she must fall from fright and exhaustion.
The road to the farm house was on a little side path turning off from the one followed by the boys on their way to
