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Page 47
"Back it is!" and the driver slowed down, and picking a wide,
clear space, deftly turned the machine around. But at sight of the
eastern sky, every one exclaimed in dismay.
Though the moon had set clearly, and the west was a dull grey, the
eastern sky was black. Turbulent masses of clouds climbed,
rolling, to the zenith; faint lights appeared now and then, and a
dim rumble of distant thunder was heard at intervals.
"Shower coming up," said Farnsworth, blithely; "better streak for
home. Wish I'd turned sooner. But we'll beat the storm. Wish the
girls had some wraps. Here, Daisy, take my coat and put it on
while you've a chance. It'll look pretty silly on you, but it will
keep your furbelows from getting spoiled."
"Yes, I will take it, Billy. I'm awfully chilly."
As Daisy already had a laprobe, Patty looked at her in
astonishment, as she let Farnsworth take off his coat and put it
on her. An ordinary evening coat, it was not a great protection,
but Daisy turned up the collar and made herself as comfortable as
she could. Then she tucked the laprobe carefully over her skirts,
though as yet no drop of rain had descended.
"No, indeed!" said Patty, as Jack offered her his coat. "I have
the laprobe, you know, and I'll put it round my shoulders. Never
mind if my skirts are spoilt. Turn up your collar, Jack, it will
pour in a minute now."
And pour it did! Suddenly, without a preliminary sprinkle, the
floods dropped straight from the heavens. A drenching, pouring
rain that soaked the occupants of the open car before they could
realise what had happened. Gusts of wind added to their
discomfort, and then the thunder and lightning, drawn nearer, gave
the greatest exhibition of an electrical storm that had been seen
all summer.
Patty, who was confessedly afraid of thunder storms, shivered, on
the verge of nervous hysterics. Finally, at a specially ear-
splitting bolt and blinding flash, which were almost simultaneous,
she gave a little shriek and pulled the wet laprobe over her head.
She crumpled down into a little heap, and, frightened lest she
should faint, Pennington put his arm round her and held her in a
reassuring clasp.
Daisy Dow was more angry than frightened. She hadn't Patty's fear
of the elements, but she greatly objected to the uncomfortable
situation in which she found herself.
"Do get home, Bill!" she cried, crossly. "Can't you go any
faster?"
The big fellow, in his white shirtsleeves, bent to his wheel. He
had worn no hat, and the rain fairly rebounded as it dashed on his
thick mat of soaking wet hair.
"Speed her, Bill," went on Daisy, petulantly; "you could go fast
enough in the moonlight,--why do you slow down now, when we all
want to get home?"
No answer from Farnsworth, who was intently looking and listening.
"Why DO you, Bill?" reiterated the irritating voice, and
Farnsworth's never very patient temper gave way.
"Shut up, Daisy!" he cried. "I'm doing the best I can,--but that's
all the good it does. We've got to stop. The gasolene is out!"
All of them, accustomed to motors, knew what this meant. Like a
flash, each mind flew back to think who was to blame for this. And
each realised that it was not the fault of the chauffeur at "Red
Chimneys" who had let them take out the car. For, had they not
said they were going only for a short spin? And the car had been
amply stocked for about two hours. Yes, it must be about two hours
since they started, for in their merry mood they had had no
thought of time, and had gone far, far inland.
"We can't stop," shrieked Daisy, "in this storm! No house or
shelter near! Bill Farnsworth, I'll NEVER forgive you for bringing
me into this pickle!"
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