 Chapter 7 of The Motor Girl This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Motor Girls by Margaret Penrose Chapter 7 $20,000 lost Edward Foster, as he ran his machine along the country road toward New City, where he was to transact his business at the bank, was thinking of many things, and not all of them were connected with the large sum of money and the bonds which he was to exchange for stock. A certain bright-eyed girl figured largely in his reveries. Guess I'd better put on a little more speed, he said to himself. It's going to take some time to get this all straightened out, and I don't like to have such a large sum with me on the road. He speeded up his car and was soon on the outskirts of the city, where he had to go slower, threading his way in and out among many vehicles. He reached the bank shortly before noon, was greeted by the President and the Secretary, who were expecting him, and was shown into a private office. Well, we have the stock already for you, said the President juniorly. It was not every day that his bank disposed of such a large block. I trust you will find it a good investment. I believe I will, replied Ed, as he reached his hand in his inner pocket to take out the wallet that contained the money and the bonds. I looked into, he stopped suddenly. A blank look came over his face. Hurriedly, he felt in another pocket. Then he began a rapid search through his clothes. What's the matter? asked the Secretary. Did you mislead your valuables? Yes, no, I don't see. Mermind, Ed. All the while, he was making a frantic search. His face paled. The bank officials looked anxiously on. Can't you find it? inquired the President. I've either lost my wallet or it's been stolen. Burst out Ed desperately. How could it have been stolen? asked the Secretary. I don't know was the answer. I don't see how it could have been. As from the time it was in my pocket until now, I did not leave my auto. He stopped quickly. The memory of the scene alongside the road, where the machines had collided, came back to him with vivid distinctness. He had alighted there and he pursued his reflections no further, but hurriedly got up from the chair. I must go back at once, he said. I will make a search. I think I know where the loss may have taken place. All the theft suggested the President. No, said Ed slowly. I don't believe it was a theft. Shall we send for a detective? Will you take one of our porters or a watchman with you? asked the Secretary. No, I think I'll make a search myself first. Thank you. And please don't tell the police yet. I may have dropped it. I'll let you know as soon as I go to a certain place and look. There is time enough to notify the authorities afterward. I'll telephone you if I don't find it, and then I'll tell the police in shelter, but I must hurry. Yes, you had better lose no time, advised the President. The thief, if there was one, could easily dispose of those securities, as for the money. He would have no trouble in spending that, finished Ed. Yes, I'll go back at once. He hurried out to his auto and was soon speeding back over the road on which he had come. He reached the spot where the auto collision had occurred, and where he had helped fix Cora's machine. Jumping from the car, he looked carefully over the ground, but could find no trace of the missing wallet containing the equivalent of $20,000. I must hurry to tell the police. He murmured as he urged his machine forward at top speed. A little later, Cora and Walter, who had returned to Chilton, saw Ed standing on the steps at the police station. Why? Cora exclaimed to Walter in some surprise. I thought Ed was in New City, attending to that bank business. He ought to be, commented Walter. Then, noting Ed's white face, he added, something's happened. A moment later, Jack, who had left the Robinson twins at their home, drove up in his runabout and stopped it beside his sister's larger car. He too saw Ed Foster's white face. What's the matter, Ed? He called quickly. Are you hurt? No, was the answer, and the voice was strained. But something has happened, insisted Cora, as she alighted from her car and started up the steps at the police station. Yes, he said, and his voice trembled. Something has happened. What? asked Jack. I've lost $20,000 or else it has been stolen. $20,000 cried Jack. The money you were taking to the bank. Ed nodded. Where? was Jack's next question. That's what I don't know. If I did, I'd go get it. But if it was stolen, begun Cora. The thief is far enough away from here now, finished Ed, trying to smile. However, I think I lost it near where the collision took place. I just came from there to report the matter to the police. But how could you lose it? Ask Cora, taking off her heavy driving gloves and fanning her face with them. I don't know, unless when I leaned over to fix the mudguard of your auto, the wallet may have slipped from my pocket. But I've looked every inch about that spot. And then Ed related how he had come to miss the money and securities. Oh, we must go back and help you look, exclaimed Cora quickly. Of course we will, won't we Jack? Walter? Sure, replied her brother. And Walter gravely nodded. He was trying to recall every incident at the happenings after the collision. We'll go right away, went on Cora. Crank up, Walter. Few persons go over that road in the afternoon, and maybe we can find it. Oh, I assure you that it's useless, declared Ed. I am only waiting here to report the matter to Chief Jenkins. And then I'm going to telephone the officials at the bank in New City, as I promised I would. Can't you stop payment? Ask Jack. Not on the money, and not very easily on the negotiable securities. That's the unfortunate part of it. If it had been a check, I could. Queer, I almost had a premonition that something might happen. To that 20,000, said Jack slowly. Though I suppose if I say that, it makes it look bad for me, he added with a smile. Oh no, Ed answered seriously enough. Of course not. Come on, let's hurry back, suggested Cora. She re-entered the car, which shook from the running of the ungeared motor that Walter had started for her. Really, Cora, begun Ed, it is useless for you to take the trouble to go back and hunt for it, though I'm sure it's very kind. It's no trouble at all. But have you been home to dinner? Asked Ed. No, Walter and I stopped at a little wayside restaurant and had lunch. Come on, we'll hurry back to the place where the collision took place. I'm sure we'll find the wallet. I'm very lucky that way. Let me wish you the best of luck, said Ed, with an attempt at gallantry. I'll go with you, only I must give the Chief all the particulars, in case it's stolen, you know? Then I must telephone to the bank. That's all right, put in Jack. Go ahead, we'll make a hunt for that small fortune. Can I do anything for you here? No, thanks, I think not. You are going to have a useless errand, though, I fear, but I appreciate what you are doing for me. Come on, hurry, cried Cora, all impatient to be off. And then, when Walter climbed in beside her and Jack sent his car off, following the big machine of his sister, Ed disappeared behind the door of the police station. End of Chapter 7, Chapter 8 of the Motor Ghouls. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Motor Ghouls, by Margaret Penrose. Chapter 8, A Vein Search. Here's where the collision occurred, exclaimed Cora a little later, when her car and Jack's, having been sent at a fast speed down the road, came to a halt, and she directed her brother's attention to the spot. No, this isn't it, objected Walter. It's farther on. It's right near an old stump, don't you remember? Oh yes, answered Cora, as she sent her car ahead again. This is where we nearly ran into the wagon. I'm so excited, I can't think straight. Well, be sure you steer straight, cried Jack from the rear. I don't want to run into you. Better let Walter take the wheel. Indeed, I'll do nothing of the sort, cried Cora laughing. With all due respect to you, Walter, of course. She added with a bright look up into the face of her companion. But don't you think I can manage my machine pretty well? More than pretty and more than well, was her escort's reply. Jack is a base defamer of your ability. Oh, you had to say that, Walt, cried Jack, the irrepressible. Push on, we want to get that money before someone walks off with it. They were soon at the spot where many tracks in the road showed that there the collision had taken place. Here was where Ed had alighted to fix Cora's car. His small machine had on a set of peculiar tyres and the impressions and indentations of the rubber shoes, which were new, were plainly visible in the road. Stopping their machines alongside the highway, the three young people began a careful search of the dusty stretch. They went over every inch of the ground, particularly in the vicinity of the place where Ed had stopped to fix the broken mudguard. But there was no sign of the pocket book. Maybe it was dropped farther back, suggested Jack. Well, we'll try there, as sentered Cora. And for ten minutes they walked up and down the road, some distance back from the place where Ed had alighted. Now, try farther on, was Walter's suggestion, and they did this. But all to no purpose. They were not rewarded by the welcome sight of a brown leather wallet bulging with riches. It's no use, said Jack. Oh, let's try a little longer, Ben Cora. Well, if he dropped it before he got here, or after he left, we might as well make the entire trip to New City, and then reverse and go to Chelten, went on Jack. And we can't look over every inch of all the distance. We can drive along slowly, was Cora's idea. The wallet is so large that it could easily be seen. It's too bad we haven't seen and either along to help hunt for it. And the Robinson girls and Mary, the more eyes the better. I'll go on to New City if you'll make a search on the road from here to Chelten, Jack. Oh, I don't know as it would do any good. It won't do any harm, said Walter. That is, if Cora isn't too tired. Oh, I should love to go. I can't get enough of my new car. Will you come, Walter? Of course. Then, Jack, you go back to Chelten and keep a lookout on both sides of the road. Hard to do that with one pair of eyes, was her brother's reply. I wish I had someone to ride with me. But go ahead, I'll do the best I can. It would be a good plan, ascented Cora, to have a person with you, if you could pick up someone. Or run across somebody, added Jack with a grin. No, Jack, I'm serious. Don't joke. Even a stranger would do. Some man. Here comes the man now, exclaimed Walter, as an individual came inside, around a bend in the road. The man was not very well dressed. I don't like his looks, said Jack, in a low voice. He seems like a tramp. I don't blame you for not liking his looks. Interrupted Walter. That's Lem Gildy. The man we saw talking to Sid when he ran his auto into the Blacksmith's shop, asked Cora. Walter nodded. Hump, muse Jack. I don't exactly fancy telling Lem Gildy about a pocketbook containing $20,000 lying alongside the road. He might not admit that he saw it if he happened to spy it while with me. And later on, he might come back and pick it up. Well, don't tell him what you're looking for, suggested Cora, with ready with. Just say it's a lady's pocketbook, put in Walter, and then he'll know it's got everything in it but money. That's playing a safety with a vengeance. Oh, so that's your opinion of us, is it? Ask Cora quickly. But after all, Jack, I think it's the best plan to ask him to ride back with you and have him watch one side of the road. Of course, he's rather dirty. I mean his clothes and it's not nice to sit alongside of him. But, oh, I don't mind clean dirt. Interrupted Jack. It's only garden soil on Lem's clothes. He does odd jobs, you know. Not very often, added Walter. But go ahead, Jack. He's coming nearer. I don't believe you can do better than asking to ride back to Chelten with you. Needn't be too specific about what's in the pocketbook. But two pairs of eyes are better than one, you know. All right, assented Jack. Here goes. Len Gildy was shuffling along the road. He was a particularly unprepossessing man with a reddish growth of whiskers which he never seemed to take the trouble to shave off and they stuck out like so many bristles in a half-worn toothbrush. His teeth were yellow and his habit of chewing tobacco was not to be commended. In short, he was a shiftless character and nice persons had very little to do with him. Hello, Len, called Jack pleasantly. Hello was the rather surly answer and Len shot a suspicious glance at Jack. It was not often that the young and wealthy Jack Kimball condescended to speak to Len Gildy and Len realized it. Want a ride went on Jack, trying to make his voice sound natural. Don't look as if he was going my way replied Len with a grin. Then he turned his gaze on and the beautiful girl could not repress a shudder as she felt the bold glance of the man. Oh, I'm going to turn around, declared Jack. I'm going back to Chelten. That's where you're headed for, I take it. Sure, that's where I'm going and I'm tired too. I've had a long walk this morning and are you working in the blacksmith shop? Ask Walter quietly. No, what makes you think that? Ask Len quickly. If you think, then he stopped suddenly, an indignant look that Len had assumed faded from his face. No, I wasn't working there. He went on. I just stopped in to see about getting a piece of iron. Well, do you want to ride back with me? Ask Jack. Who wondered at Walter's question? That's what I do if you're going my way. Yes, I'll turn around in a minute. Go ahead, Cora and Walter. Get back as soon as you can. Jack cranked up his car, got in and, running in a half circle, steered it to where Len was standing. I ain't much in the habit of riding in these here kind of wagons, remarked Len with a smirk. I hope nothing happened to us. I guess nothing will, but Len, I'm not going to give you a ride for nothing, said Jack. The man drew back suspiciously. He had expected something like this. His man has seemed to say, I ain't got any money, he whined. No, it's not money, went on Jack. I only want you to help me look for something. Look for southern? Yes, along the road. What's the matter? Lose part of your automobile? No, it's a pocketbook, a wallet. A wallet, exclaimed Len, with such suddenness that Jack started. Yes, cried the lad, you don't mean to say you found it. Len seemed agitated. He shuffled his feet in the dust. Me find a pocketbook, he said at length, with a short laugh. Well, I guess not. I ain't in the habit of finding such things as that. What kind was it, and what was in it? It was a long one, a brown leather, replied Jack, describing Ed's pocketbook, and ignoring the question of what was in it. A friend of mine dropped it along here, and we're helping him hunt for it. My sister and Mr. Pennington are going to look in one direction, and you and I'll look in the other. Jack tried to make his voice sound friendly, but it was difficult for it. You look on one side of the road, and I'll keep watch on the other, he went on. All right, I'm agreeable, said Len, with a leer. I don't believe we'll find it, though. I ain't never very lucky. He got into the auto beside Jack, and the two started off slowly. Cora and Walter also started, and the search for the missing $20,000 was continued. Jack and Len did not talk much on the way back. Len Gildy was not an accomplished conversationalist, and Jack was too anxious to find the wallet to care for the distraction of talk. Several times he thought he saw the pocketbook, but each time it was a flat stone or a clotted dirt that misled him. They reached Chilton, and Len asked to be set down in a secluded street. Why, asked Jack curiously. Because if some of me chums saw me riding in a swell wagon like this, they'd never speak to me again, and Len grinned and showed all his yellow teeth. I was afraid we wouldn't find that pocketbook, he added. Well, maybe Cora will, said Jack. Yes, said Len slowly. Maybe she will, or someone else will. His tone was so peculiar that Jack asked quickly, what do you mean, Len? Oh, nothing, and the fella assumed an injured ear. Only if a pocketbook is lost, someone's bound to find it, ain't they? I suppose so, as sent to Jack, and as he drove his car through the streets of Chilton, after the unsuccessful search, he found himself vainly puzzling over Len's strange manner. Then, as he was turning a corner, Jack caught sight of Ed. Hey, he called. Ed turned. There was a momentary look of hope on his face. Did you? He began. Jack sadly shook his head. End of Chapter 8, Chapter 9 of The Motor Girls. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Motor Girls by Margaret Penrose, Chapter 9, Finding the Wallet. No luck, eh? Went on Ed, as he approached Jack. No, that is, Len and I didn't have any. Len, do you mean to say Len guilty? Now, don't get nervous. I didn't tell him it was your pocketbook that was lost. You see, I had to have someone keep watch on one side of the road while I looked on the other, and he was the only one available. Then Jack related the details of the search. I'm glad Len doesn't know about it, went on Ed. I heard today that he and Sid Wilcox had been seen together several times lately, and I'm not quite ready to have my loss made public, especially to Sid. Maybe Cora and Walter will have better luck, suggested Jack hopefully. We won't hear from them for some time though. Did you phone to the bank in New City? Yes, and I told them I couldn't get any trace of the wallet here, and as you know, I have already notified the Chilton Police. They had been making a quiet search about town, but I fear it will be hopeless. The bank people didn't say it had been turned in there by any chance, did they? No such good fortune, and Ed laughed uneasily. Well, I'm going home now to get a list of the bonds and their numbers, as well as the numbers of the big bills. But please say they will want them when they send out a general alarm. But I thought you said you didn't want it generally, no. I don't, until I made a thorough search at home. It is barely possible that I took up the wrong wallet by mistake when I rushed out this morning. I have two that look exactly alike. I may have picked up the empty one, shoved it into my pocket, and lost that one. The one containing the bonds and cash may still be at my house. I am hurrying there to see. If I don't find it, the police are to send out a general alarm. I hope you find it. So do I. It means a big loss to me. Almost my entire fortune gone. I don't know what I am going to do. Let's hope for the best, spoke Jack as cheerfully as possible. But there was a dubious look on his face, as he watched Ed turn in the direction of his home. But Ed found that he had made no mistake in the wallets. The empty one was safely in his room, but the one containing the $20,000 was, as he had feared, lost. He communicated this fact to the police, and soon the chief had ordered some handbuilds printed, describing the pocketbook and the contents, and offering a reward of $500 for the cash and bonds. Ed, having agreed to pay this amount, and asked no questions. Ha! exclaimed Lem guilty that night, as one of the hastily printed bills came into his possession. So this is the wallet they are looking for, eh? $20,000, but I knowed it all the while, as if Jack Kimball and his sister could feel me. But I'll bleed him, that's what I'll do. I'll make him whack up, or, or, I'll tell, and let him chuckle to himself, while there was a dangerous look on his mean face. The suit conducted by Cora and Walton was, as might be guessed, as unsuccessful as the one undertaken by Jack and Lem. Cora and Walton looked carefully over the whole length of the road to New City, but saw nothing of the wallet, and came back disconsoleed in the auto. Poor Ed remarked Walton, it's tough luck. Yes, and I wish we could have found it for him, a green Cora, as she skillfully drove the car through the Chalton streets at dusk. I'm beginning to believe that it was stolen. I think so myself, added Walter, but if he had it when he was fixing your car, and he missed it directly after, he left our crowd. He hesitated a moment, then continued. Well, maybe he thinks that some of us may have. Better not jump at conclusions, caution Cora, and at this, Walter alighted near the street that led to his home. I won't, he promised Cora with a laugh, as she sent the car ahead. She was anxious to reach home and learn the details of Jack's search, though she and Walter knew from an inquiry they made at the bank in New City, that it had not been successful. That night nothing was so important a topic of conversation in Chalton as the loss of the $20,000. Speculation was right, and opinion was equally divided on the question of whether it had been lost or stolen, or both, for that it might have been stolen after it was lost was possible. Ed consulted some business friends, but they could give him little help. He was advised to hire private detectives, and said he would do so, in case the police of New City or Chalton could do nothing. It was two days after the loss of the money and bonds, that Cora, with her inseparable friends, the Robinson twins and Walter, whom she had picked up on the road, were out for a ride. They took the turnpike, as it was the smoothest highway. We may meet Jack along here, said Cora as she turned down to avoid a large rock. Yes, asked Elizabeth, and she tried to keep down the eagerness in her voice. Yes, he's gone over to see about a concert his mandolin club is going to give, and he said he might bring a couple of the members back with him to stay a few days. College lads asked best with a laugh. Surely, replied Cora, and charming ones too, I gathered from Jack's talk. Must be some of the never sleep members, spoke Walter. Never sleep members, repeated Elizabeth. Yes, I belong. We call ourselves that, because we used to be up at all hours. Some of the boys play in Jack's mandolin club. I hope we meet them, exclaimed best frankly. I'm dying for some music. Let me sing and save your life, proposed Walter. With pleasure, answered best, making a little gesture of surprise, but I didn't know you sung. Only to save life, replied Walter. But he added, if I'm not mistaken, that sounds like Jack's car. It is, declared Cora, who was getting to be an expert on the puffing sounds of autos. There he is, she exclaimed, as Jack's runabout came inside, and is pretty well crowded too. It was, for in the car, which would barely hold three, Jack had managed to squeeze four, three lads besides himself. Hello, sis. He called as he caught sight of Cora. You're just in time. Take one of these Brits out of here, will you? My springs are breaking. I'll go, cried one lad, as he caught sight of the Robinson twins. No, I saw him first, exclaimed another. You did not. It's my turn to ride in a decent car, said the third. Now, just for that, you will all three get in Cora's car, and I'll take the Mrs Robinson in with me, declared Jack. There was laughter at this, and Jack introduced his mandolin club friends to Cora and the twins. Seriously though, sis, you'll have to take one or two of them. Went on Jack. Here, Didick, you and Parks go in the big car. I want to talk to Yeomans about the concert we're going to have. Didick and Parks gladly made the exchange into the larger car, while Yeomans tried to look as if he'd like to remain with Jack, but it was hard work to imagine it when he glanced across at the pretty twins and Cora. Hold on a minute, exclaimed Walter, as he noticed that one of the rear tires of the touring car was flat. We can't go on like this, Cora. That left tire will have to be pumped up. And you've got good muscles to do it too, Walter urged Didick, smiling mischievously. We'll all help. Volunteered Parks, come on. Didick, Walter and Parks are lighted. Walter stepped to the toolbox to get out the pump and the lifting jack. As he was about to take them out, he started back excitedly. Hurt yourself, asked Cora, who was looking over the side of the car. Walter shook his head. His face was strangely white as he spoke in a husky voice. The wallet, Ed Foster's wallet in the toolbox. Here, see. He held the pocketbook up to view. Where did you get it, gasped Cora? In your toolbox. What? The girl's voice was a shrill and there was a tremor in her tones. Cora fairly leaped out beside him. She was staring at the brown leather wallet, the wallet that had contained the $20,000. How on earth she begun. She reached out her hand for the pocketbook. Walter gave it to her. She raised up the flap and uttered for the single word. Empty. The limp wallet fell from her hand to the ground. Cora's face turned strangely white and she began swaying as does a tree that a woodsman has nearly cut through. A moment later, the over wrought girl staggered and almost fell into Walter's arms. End of Chapter 9, Chapter 10 of the Motor Goals. This is a Libra Box recording. All Libra Box recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibraVox.org. The Motor Girls by Margaret Penrose. Chapter 10, Suspicions. Hello cried Jack, springing forward to his sister's aid. I never knew Cora to do that before. Is she hurt, Wolk? No, only shocked, I guess. Help her into the car and put her on the rear seat, directed Belle. No, keep her head up, advise Bess. Somebody get water, exclaimed Diddick, turning around in a circle to look for a spring. Jack was rubbing his sister's hands while Walter held her in a reclining position. There's a spring over by that tree, spoke Walter. One of you gets some water. I will, in my hat, answer parks, starting off on a run. Here's a cup, called Elizabeth, producing a collapsible one from a pocket in the tourney of the touring car. The lead took it and came hurrying back with it half full of liquid, having spilled the rest on his hasty trip. Jack managed to get a little between Cora's lips and it revived her. She opened her eyes, noted that Walter was holding her and her face flushed slightly. I'm all right now, she declared, as she tried to stand upright. Better get in the car and sit down, advise Jack. She is centred and rather limply got into the tourney of her machine. She drunk some more water and presently was herself again. How silly of me to nearly faint, she said with a wane smile, but when I saw the pocketbook empty, it was enough. I should say so, interrupted bell. Who would ever have thought of finding it in your toolbox, Cora? The word seemed fraught with strange import. Was it really in the toolbox, Walter? Cora asked. On top of the tyre pump and the lifting jack, replied Walter. And empty, that's the queer part of it, commented Bell. I guess that's what shocked you as much as anything, Cora. Now, if it had had the $20,000 in it, it's strange that a wallet should have been there in my toolbox at all, murmured Cora. It certainly is, added Jack. What can it mean to find it in Cora's car? Is this the one Ed Foster lost? Asked did it. We heard something about it. The same one, answered Walter, as he picked the wallet from the road where it had fallen. See, it has his name on it. I feel creepy, almost as if something supernatural had put it into my toolbox, said Cora in a curiously quiet voice. More likely some unnatural person did it, spoke Jack quickly. Yet who in the world would do it? If I had seen, he stopped suddenly, leaving the sentence unfinished. And it was on top of the pump and Jack, mused Cora. After a quick look at her brother, I haven't used the pump since, let me see. Since the day of the collision, the day when the pocketbook was lost, interrupted Jack. You pumped up a tyre just before the race, so that the pocketbook must have been placed there right after the robbery. All loss, added Walter. Someone may have found the wallet, taken out the money and bonds, and then thrown the empty pocketbook away. That someone threw it in a curious place, remarked Elizabeth Riley. Indeed they did, observed Cora. It looks, she hesitated. Oh, you might as well say it, before someone else does. Pull in Jack. It looks mighty suspicious, Cora. There was a vindictive air about him. He seemed to challenge an accusation against his sister. I'm sure there was no need to say that, spoke Walter. It may be a mere coincidence, finished Cora. A queer coincidence, quote Jack. Incidentally, someone got the money, all right. We must hurry home and tell Ed. I wonder what he'll think, asked Cora. What Panny think, demanded her brother. Only that someone found or stole his wallet, and threw the empty pocketbook into your toolbox. And I found it, added Walter. Which might mean, he too hesitated. Well, what, asked Jack. That I put it there, and only pretended to find it, finished Walter with a laugh. Nonsense, exclaimed Cora. But come, let's hurry back to Chalton. I want to be the first to tell Ed. Do you feel all right, asked Jack anxiously. Oh yes, very well. I never fainted before that I remember. Yes you did. Once when you burned your hand on the stove, corrected Jack. Oh, that was a good while ago. There was a period of silence. Well, as long as I started to pump up the tyre, I suppose I may as well finish, remarked Walter, as he took out the jack and raised the wheel. It was rather a quiet company of young people who made their way back to Chalton in the two autos a little later. The gay members of the Mandolin Club had little to say, and when they did attempt a pleasantry, the laughter was soon over. Every once in a while, someone would refer to the discovery of the empty wallet. The next thing to find, remarked Jack, with the trace of bitterness in his tones, is the person with the cash and bonds. Maybe they're in the two box of your car, said Didick, jestingly. It may run in the family. Then he was conscious that he had made rather a bad break, and he subsided, while everyone tried to talk at once to cover it up. Jack laughed uneasily, and Cora seemed annoyed. One thought was running through the mind of both Cora and her brother, who could it have been who tried to injure her in this way by throwing suspicion on her, and what could have been their motive? She tried to reason certain things out. She went over in detail, while Walter was driving her car for her. Every incident that she could remember in connection with the collision and the subsequent loss of the money. She speculated on the actions of everyone. Mary's desire to leave the car at the post office and not go back to her shop was odd, Cora thought. Though her employer had given Mary permission to go for a ride with such well-paying customers as the Kimballs and the Robinson Twins. Next, Cora tried to analyse Sid's actions, also those of Ida, and she even found herself wondering at Sid's seeming intimacy with Lem Gildy. But it all came to nothing. There was still that unanswered question, who took the money from the wallet? That the same person did so, who had placed the empty pocketbook in the toolbox, seemed evident. Jack and Cora went together to tell Ed. Walter wanted to accompany them, but Cora insisted that she be allowed to tell the story first. Later Ed may want to question you, she declared. The three members of the Mandolin Club were left at the Kimball home until Cora and Jack returned. Ed at first was much startled by the news, then he opened the wallet. They didn't leave anything, he said slowly. Is that all you want to remark? Ask Jack. Oh, why, of course, what else can I say? Well, don't you think, not to put too fine a point upon it, that it looks suspicious? For whom? Us, Cora, said Jack bluntly. Look here, begun Ed fiercely, if it wasn't you who said that. Say, look here, oh, what nonsense! I hope, Cora, that you haven't for one moment thought that I would have believed suspicion against you. I, of course, I didn't. She finished quickly. Only Jack thought it looked clear. How foolish! exclaimed Ed. Why, it would be the easiest thing in the world for the thief to throw the empty pocketbook into your till box, as the car was passing him in the street. The box isn't kept locked, is it? No, not always. Then that's how it happened. The thief is around Chilton, that's evident, in order to divert suspicion he or she interrupted Jack with a smile. Yes, or she, if you like, he or she opened the box when your car was halted momentarily in the street and dropped the wallet in. It's as simple as can be. But not so simple to find the thief retorted Jack. Indeed, not, agreed Ed, with a rueful smile. But I'll give the police this clue. It's a good one, I should think. And if they want to arrest me, why, I'll be at home, declared Cora with a laugh. Would you like to see Walter? No, you have told me all that is necessary. Cora and Jack made a quick run back home, while Ed went to communicate to the police the latest clue. That evening, when Jack, Cora and the three college lads went down to the post office, Cora happened to look in the window at the millinery shop, where Mary Downs was employed. She was surprised to see on the big plate glass a sign. Apprentice wanted. That's odd, she mused. I didn't suppose that Madam Julia could use two apprentices. I wonder if Mary has been discharged for taking that ride with me. I must inquire. The mail was late, and as the young people waited for it to be sorted, they heard in the crowd talk, indicating that the news of the finding of the empty wallet was known. Ed had told the police, and several reporters had also heard of the matter. Well, it's a very strange and romantic affair, remarked Angelina Bott, a sentimental sort of girl, to her chum Alice Haven. It would make quite a story. For the detectives, yes, assented Alice. Then, speaking so loudly that Cora could not help, but hear, she added, I guess hiders make the best finders after all. Cora's face turned red. Jack, with an angry retort on his lips, stepped forward, but his sister laid a detaining hand on his arm. Don't Jack, she begged. But it's as good as saying you took it. I know, but Jack, there will be more or less of suspicion. Jack spied a lump in his throat. He glared at Alice Haven, who looked coldly at him, and then turned away. Just then, the windows were opened, indicating that the mail was sorted, and there was a rush on the part at the waiting crowd. Alice and Angelina were swallowed up in it. Cora, with bitterness in her heart, turned aside. There were tears in her eyes, and she did not want Jack to see them. As she looked down a corridor at the post office, she saw a stooping figure hurrying along. It was that of Sid Wilcox, and from another corridor, crossing the main one, came a girl who joined him. The girl was Ida Giles, and as Cora watched them, she saw Sid hand Ida something that showed white in the gleam of an incandescent lamp. It was evidently a letter. End of Chapter 10 Chapter 11 of the Motor Goals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Motor Goals by Margaret Penrose Chapter 11 Motoring Outfits For days following the loss of the money and the finding of the empty pocketbook, every possible clue was followed up, both by the police of New City and Charlton, and by many detectives who were lured on by the offered reward of five hundred dollars. Nor were suspicious tongues idle. If Cora was not openly accused, it was because she had a brother who would vigorously defend her. Nor did the Robinson girls altogether escape, though it was generally hinted, in the case of all the young ladies, that they might have hidden the money just for fun, and when they saw what excitement had caused, they were afraid to return it. As if that was a joke, said Cora, when she heard this version. Of course, the boys who took part in the race had to answer numerous questions for the police, but at the end of the week, which was an unpleasant one for all concerned, the detectives were as far off the track as ever. Sid and Ida had their share at the third degree of police questioning in a mild form, and though Sid was at first indignant and refused to answer questions, he finally gave in. There was an unofficial verdict of not guilty in the case of all, and Ed's little fortune seemed likely never to be found. When, about two weeks after the loss, Cora took a hundred dollar bill to the bank to get it changed, and the teller looked at it rather longer than seemed necessary. Jack, who was with his sister, asked, what's the matter? Isn't that good? He betrayed some feeling, for the finger of suspicion seemed pointing at his family from every person he met. Why, I hope it's good, was the smiling answer. If it isn't, I have lost faith in the government printing office. My grandmother gave it to me for my birthday, exclaimed Cora. I haven't had time to spend it since getting my auto. No one ever questioned a bill of hers before. Neither have I questioned it, declared the teller. I was merely making a note of the number. We'd have instructions to take a memorandum of all bills of large denomination. I was merely doing that. Since when was that rule in effect? asked Jack. Since the foster robbery. Jack started. Then he remembered that in Ed's wallet were bills of large denomination. Suspicion, even here, he muttered to Cora as they went out. Hush, Jack dear, she said softly, some folks will hear you. Well, I don't care if they do. It's fierce, the way people believe that you and I had a hand in that robbery. Never mind, replied his sister. Oh, she added quickly. There are the Robinson girls outside, and she hurried down the bank steps. The two sisters were walking slowly along, and from a certain air about Bess, it was evident that she had something important to tell Cora. Any news of the robbery? Bess asked Jack. Not that I know of, he answered rather gloomily. The trouble is that so many of those who might be able to throw additional life on it are away. Sid has gone, no one seems to know where. Ida is away visiting, and we haven't been able to find that old farmer that got his team in the way of the race. Ed remembers passing him on the road, and he spoke to him, but even that wouldn't account for how the wallet got in Cora's car. No, said Elizabeth with a sigh, but where are you going, Cora? Around to Madame Julia's. I went in the bank to get grandmother's hundred dollar bill broken, so I could pay for my things at Madame's. I suppose they are done by this time. Won't your girls come with me? Yes, added Jack. And speaking of hundred dollar bills, what do you suppose that bank teller did? He, Jack dear, spoke Cora softly, and her brother subsided. Do come, she urged the twins. It will be such fun to see me try on my motor togs. Wait until we tell you something, burst out bell. We have a surprise for you, interrupted best. A brand new started in bell. Motor car finished best triumphant leap. That is, we're going to get it, added her sister. Father has promised it to us, supplemented best. Oh, isn't that splendid? Exclaimed Cora. I'm so glad. This is a surprise. Now we'll all be motor girls. Yes, added Belle. And mother said we could go this afternoon and select some motor things for ourselves at Madame's. Isn't that just too sweet of her? Lovely, cried Cora, giving the twins a little hug in turn. Here, quit that in public. Want to make a fellow jealous? Demanded Jack. Oh you, begun bell, with an arc look at Cora's brother. Now we're going to take a preliminary look at things with you, Cora said best. I'm just dying to get a certain bonnet that I saw in the window. Toot toot, farewell, cried Jack, as he puffed in imitation of an auto and turned up the street. Do you know, begun Cora, as soon as her brother was safely out of sight? Speaking of that robbery, I have been thinking lately how strange it was that Ida, Mary and Sid should have been talking so seriously behind my car when I happen to look around and see them. Mary's face flushed and Ida immediately walked away. Is that so? Demanded Bess. Yes, and I had been puzzling over it for some time. I overheard some of the things they said, declared Bell. I think Sid was trying to get Mary and Ida to promise to go out for a ride with him that evening. Ida refused. And Mary, well, I didn't hear just what she said, but it wasn't no, I'm sure. But they all three looked so, so guilty, went on Cora. It was exactly as if they didn't want to be discovered. Maybe Sid was ashamed to be asking Mary to go for a ride. You know, he's reported to be well off. And Mary, well, she's a dear, sweet little girl, but she works for a living. And you know what a fellow like Sid thinks of working girls. I thought I heard Sid saying something about hiring a machine to take them out in, went on Bell. Well, maybe we'll get a chance to ask Mary about it when we get to Madam's, said Cora. She'll be sent in to help us try on our things. They were soon in front of the shop with the big glass front, the only real big glass front in Shelton. And behind the plate was displayed a single hat, a creation, as Madam Julia described it. Madam Julia was very exclusive. The door boy, a dapper little coloured chap, in an exceedingly tight fitting suit, a blue with innumerable brass buttons on it, in double rows in front, in triple rows behind, and in single rows on slaves, opened the portal for the young ladies, bowing low as he did so. I guess this is Mary coming now, said Cora in a low voice as she heard someone approaching from behind the silk and draperies that separated part of the shop. But the three customers looked up in surprise when a strange young girl appeared through the parted curtains. Miss Kimball, said Cora, announcing her own name, for she had an appointment. Oh yes, was the girl's answer. I will tell Madam. Where is Mary, whispered best. That accounts for the sign I saw, spoke Cora, telling her chums of the notice that an apprentice was wanted. Mary must have been discharged. Madam would never keep two in Shelton. Madam Julia, as she was always called, entered with a swish of skirts and leaving a trail of French instructions behind her in the workroom, instructions to her employees as to the trimming on this effect and the reshaping of that creation. Ah yes, Miss Kimball, she begun. I am in all readiness, but pardon, Zatmyrie. She half-left me in such hastiness. I am all at what you call the ocean. How you express it? With a pretty little motion of her hands, she looked appealingly at Cora. You mean all at sea, Madam? Ah yes, at sea. How comprehensive. C-C is always troubled. And so am I. Zatmyrie, she left me so suddenness. I know not where are all my things. I depend so much on her. Has Miss Downs left? Cora could not refrain from asking. Ah yes, Zat is it, precisely. So quick she go away and leave me. She does not think much about it, perhaps, but I am too busy to be so annoyed. Just some relation, not well, in disposition. Maybe, well, voila. She is gone. It was not so in my time that a girl must leave her trade and depart with such quickness. Run away. Louise, Louise, come instantly for me, finds that motish chapeau for Madam Miss Zelle Kimball. Her voice rose to a shrill call. Quick, she called, and then came a string of French. I must not be kept waiting. It was already packed. Louise, who had replaced Mary Downs, found the bonnet Cora had ordered, and handed it to her mistress. Cora took her place before a mirror, and Madam began patting the motor cap hood affectionately over the girl's black tresses. It will suit you to perfection, exclaimed the Frenchwoman. You have the hair beautiful, there. She brushed the hood down over Cora's ears. Zat is away. Do not wear a motor hood as if it was a tiara. Zat is of a hatefulness. Such bad taste, voila. What is it that you Americans say? See fitness of things. Yes, Zat is what I mean. The hood certainly looked well on Cora. Bess and Belle nodded their approval. It was the old-fashioned shaker type of delicate Pongee silk, and showed off to advantage Cora's black, wavy hair, as it felt softly about her temples. As it not becoming, demanded Madam. And then she became profuse in her native tongue. Zat, what you call shaker? Eh, it is the prettiest, so chic, voila. And once more she patted it on Cora's head. Cora was very well pleased with it. Then the mask was brought out. This was a simple affair. Cora only wanted such things as were practical. The mask, which had been specially designed to suit the girl, was nothing more than a piece of veiling with the goggle set in it. The veil was secured to the hood by a simple sheer string of elastic. Madam slipped it over Cora's face. Zare, the milliner, exclaimed. Lovely, declared Bess. Very beautiful, added Belle. Louise, the little girl helper, gave a wonder look of admiration. Louise said well, trained eyes. Would you know me? Ask Cora with a little laugh. Never, replied Bess. Won't it be splendid? Suppose we all get things like. Then we can travel incog. O jolly, cried Belle. Just fancy Walter asking me to have soda. And he thinking I'm someone else. Cora laughed merrily at Belle's joke. Walter's preference for Cora was no secret. How about my cloak? Ask Cora. Not quite ready, replied Madam. You see, sat naughty Marie, leaving me so. Did you say some of her relatives were real? Ventured Bess. I believe so. Some aren't. Away in some far place. Marie has gone to her. Louise took the mask and hood from Cora and flitted away with them beyond the silk curtains. There was to be a stitch taken here and a little tacking up was needed there. The veil was to be a bit closer. The milliner explained. Next, Madam Julia turned to the twins. My friends wished to see about some motor things also, remarked Cora. What would you think of having them all alight for us there? This brought on such a discussion. Madam talking more in French than English. And Belle was kept busy translating for her sister. The Madam preferred giving the young ladies such hoods and cloaks, as would Bess suit their complexions. Bess should have a brown one, just running to the shade over here, but not quite reaching it. And Belle needed a dark blue, for only a true blonde can wear dark blue and not look old in it. So Madam explained, but the twins would not decide after all, until their mother could be consulted, so the order was not definitely placed. When they were about to leave and Madam had vanished behind the silk and draperies, Bess turned to one of the hat sticks, upon which rested a most conspicuous piece of headgear. Oh, look at that, she exclaimed. Isn't it awful? It certainly is ridiculous, chimed in Belle, taking the motor hood for such it was, off the support, and holding it up for inspection. That's certainly what Madam calls a creation, said Cora. Who in the world would ever wear that? Ask Bess with a laugh. I expected to unexpectedly reply to voice behind them. The three girls turned quickly to confront Ida Giles. She had come in so quietly, that they had not heard her. Cora, Belle, and Bess looked unfounded. And perhaps in the future went on Ida, in icy tones. It would be just as well to leave another person's hat alone. I beg your pardon, Cora managed to say. We were just interested in motor hoods, and making fun of mine snapped Ida. The wheeze had entered to attend to the new customer. Ida turned to her. I wished to see Madam Julia, she exclaimed. Outside, Bess burst into her full, hearty laugh. Then the three motor girls made their escape. I thought I would choke in there, she exclaimed. Lucky for you that Ida didn't take a hand in, helping you out in the choking process, remarked Cora. She looked as if she would like to have done it. But what in the world do you suppose she wants with a motor hood, asked Belle. To ride with Sid, of course, answered Cora. But his machine is out of order, and he as much as said that he didn't intend to get it fixed right away, persisted Belle. Maybe he's going to get a new one, ventured Cora. I don't see how we can, replied Belle. I heard Father say he was dreadfully in debt. His folks had some dealings with Father, I believe, about advancing him some money, that is to come to him when he is a certain age. But it won't be for some time yet. They had to have some to pay his debts. You ought not to repeat that, Belle, caution best. You know Father would be displeased if he knew you had spoken of his private affairs. Well, I'm sure it will go no further with Cora, retorted Belle. I wouldn't mention it to anyone else. Of course, I'll not repeat it, promised Cora. But what do you think about Mary leaving so suddenly? I don't know what to think, replied Bess. It looks odd, to say the least. What reason would she have for leaving town so well mysteriously to put it mildly? Of course, it may be a mere coincidence, went on Cora. But in connection with her talk with Ida and Sid, well, I have often noticed that matters conspire to, look strange whenever there is a chance of making complications. End of Chapter 11, Chapter 12 of The Motor Goals. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Motor Goals by Margaret Penrose, Chapter 12, A Race Against Time. It was a few days after the visit to Madame Julia, the Cora was out alone in the whirlwind. She had been feeling very unhappy over the loss of Ed's money and the suspicion that naturally attached to her on account of the finding of the empty wallet in her car. She could not dismiss the matter from her mind. But Ed Foster had done everything in his power to make her feel that she was in no wise concerned. He had called and taken dinner with Jack and had announced that, as far as he could see, he feared he would have to charge the money and bonds up to profit and loss. Principally, loss, he remarked with a rueful smile. I don't believe those detectives will ever get it. Jack had offered to go with his sister when she announced that she was about to take a run in her car. But with a little nod of thanks, 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 air will do me more good than anything else. Her mother had gone into town and once his offer was refused, Jack took a book and declared that he was going to try to work off some of his college conditions. The Robinson girls were at their music lessons, Cora knew, so he would not call for them. Thus she started off alone. Down the turnpike, she steered the big machine, confident in her ability to manage it. There were few autos out, and the highway was almost deserted. Her pretty shaker hood, which had lately come home from Madame Julia's, was unbound, and the loose chiffon strings flew out in the wind like long-legged birds. Turning into a broad avenue, Cora realized that she was on the road leading to the garage, where she had met Paul Hostings, the handsome chauffeur who had given her such valuable information about her car. I must see about getting the mudguard fixed, she reflected, for the temporary brace that Ed had made, though it had kept the affair in place until the day previous had now come loose. And this is a good time to have it attended to, thought the girl. Paul Hostings was in the little front office. He smiled pleasantly at the flush girl, as she told her needs. But somehow he seemed dejected, as if something had happened. Even Cora, comparative stranger that she was to him, could not help inquiring the cause of his trouble. Is there anything the matter? She asked hesitatingly. Oh, not much. Only I have just 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-class position, but another fellow got ahead of me. How's that? Well, you see, a firm in New City needs a manager. I have good backing, and was almost certain of the place. But another fellow had just 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 me there on time. He caught it, and is now on his way there. He'll get the place, and I won't. But why don't you take a machine and go there? You can do it as quickly as the train can. Take a machine, he repeated. I wouldn't dare. I'd be sure to lose my place here, and might not get the other. I having a car in the place, I would dare risk taking out on the road. The owners are too 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 have mentioned my troubles to you. But they were so, so much to me, that I didn't realise what I was doing. But let me look at your car. He soon adjusted the broken bolt of the mudguard, and announced that it was now as good as new. But why won't you go in the whirlwind? Demanded the girl. I am only out on a little pleasure spin, and I would be very glad indeed to 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 instructions about some cars and what to do if certain customers came in. It was not a busy part of the day, and he could leave without causing any complications. Then he slipped into his long linen coat, and stepped into Cora's car. I'm afraid this is an imposition, he declared, taking the steering wheel, a sort of unconscious habit he had. Then he bed-thought himself. Oh, but I suppose you'll drive, he added quickly. Shifting over, rather abashed at having taken his place in the driver's seat without being asked. You see, I'm so accustomed to being here. I believe I will drive, answered Cora. I have great faith in the obedience of my machine that knows my hand. I shouldn't wonder, agreed the young man. I do believe that motor cars can almost be made to think, under the guidance of very gentle but sure hands. Paul looked very handsome, Cora thought. He was the type she always admired, a youth with a bronze complexion, a straight, athletic figure, almost classic, Cora decided. He cranked up for her, re-entered the car, and they rolled from the garage. Once out on the country road, Cora threw in the high gear and fed the gasoline with a judicious hand, controlling the spark admirably. A fine machine exclaimed Paul, noting how perfect was the rhythm of 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 Walter Pennington raised their caps as they dashed by, but they did not go so quickly, but that Cora noticed an expression of surprise on their faces. Oh yes, I know them also, remarked Paul. I've had that machine in the garage. I wonder where they are going, went on Cora. She also found herself wondering if Walter and Ed were surprised to see her out alone with a professional chauffeur. It was the first time her conduct in taking Paul with her came forcibly to her mind. Then, with an independence of spirit that characterized her, she decided she had no apology or explanation to make. It's hard to say where any person in an auto is going, replied Paul pleasantly, and sometimes almost as hard to say when they'll get there. That young man on the right is the one who recently lost $20,000, observed the girl, as she changed to second speed to 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 the toolbox of my car. Yes, so I heard. Quite remarkable. But can't the detectives find out who stole the money and hid the pocketbook there? Cora was grateful for the neat way he put that, to avoid referring to the suspicions that had been cast on her and on her friends. The police don't appear able to do anything, was her answer. It does seem very strange. Have they inquired of all the people who were on hand at the time of the robbery or loss? When I understand, it was very likely that the empty wallet was put in your toolbox. Oh yes, they have questioned all of us, and I can tell you that they were not any too polite about it, either. I thought I would never get over their quizzing. Well, I suppose they have to be sharp, remarked Paul. But I've not yet explained to you the reason why I am in such a hurry, and the nature of that position I am after. You see, a firm in New City advertised for a chauffeur to drive their machine across the country in a big race, I replied, and I was as good as engaged. I expected to go over this morning. But someone told me that Sid Wilcox had taken the early train and was going to beat me out. It's a case of first come, get the job, you see. Sidney Wilcox exclaimed Cora in astonishment. Yes, you know him, of course. It seems that he wants to make the trip, and is willing to run the machine without pay. I can't afford to do that, and that gives him an advantage over me. If Sid gets there first, and offers to do it for nothing, it means that they'll take him. Well, he'll not get there first, exclaimed Cora very determinedly. Suddenly they both heard the distant whistle of the train. There she is, cried Paul, and a little later they caught sight of the cars flying over the track. We're too late, said Paul. Not yet, answered Cora. We can take a shorter route, even if they can go faster than we can. She was already running on third speed, and the motor was taking about all the gasoline it could use. She adjusted the spark to give the best service, and now, as an additional means of inducing speed, she cut out the muffler. The explosions of the motor plated to two on the dusty road. I'm going to turn here, cried Cora, as she swung around a corner. Look out. Paul needed no warning, that he was an expert autoist. The machine skidded a bit, and tilted somewhat. But we're soon flying down the straight level stretch. I cannot understand why Sid Wilcox wants to run in a cross-country race, and for nothing, said Cora. Because he knows I want the place. He hates me and wants to make trouble for me. Is that so? Then we have a double reason for beating him, and I think we'll do it. His train has to wait for the accommodation to pass 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 the wheel, she leaned forward to peer down the road. She could neither see nor hear the train now. It's 9.55, replied the chauffeur. The train is due at New City at 10.15. Twenty minutes yet. I'm sure we can make it. Cora made that declaration with her cheeks flushing, and her bright eyes ablaze with excitement. Won't you let me take the wheel? Ask Paul. I'm afraid that this 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 wish to go? Directly in the city, next to the bank. The office of Whitehall Motor Company. Then we'll take this road. Decided the girl. I'm sure it cuts through a park, and will bring us out right at the centre of the city. It does, and it's the nearest way. You're getting to be quite a driver. I mean to be. Huck, there's the train again. Yes, and we're ahead of it. Exclaimed Paul, as he caught sight of the cars. We've gamed on them. But they're going down grade, and we have a hill to climb. Spoke Cora a little despairingly. But she would not give up. On and on rushed the car. There was but five minutes left, and the railroad station was very close to the building where the automobile concern was located. Sid's chances were very good. Paul's not quite so, much so. We'll have to be a little careful now. Paul reminded her as they swung around a curve. We'll have to go slow through the city. Yes, but I have been counting on that. We still have a few minutes. Oh, it's a pity that a motor isn't like a horse. When you get a machine going just so fast, it can't go any faster. But a horse can always be depended on for a spurt. Yes, answered Paul quietly. He was busy thinking. How many minutes left now? Asked Cora. Two was the grim answer. With keen eyes that took note of every obstruction or vehicle that might block her, Cora drove her car on. Around corners and through busy streets, she piloted it. They were but a block from the centre of the town. There's the train. Spoke Paul quietly as the engine pulled into the station, and we're at the building at the Whitehall Auto Concern, exclaimed Cora triumphantly a few seconds later. As she guided the car up the curb, hurry, she called to Paul, as if he needed to be told that. He leaped from the car and ran across the pavement to the office. As he entered the door, Sid Wilcox, coming leisurely from the direction of the station, saw him. Sid started, and then, with a quick motion, hurried after Paul. But the chauffeur was ahead of him, and the door slammed shut in the face of the owner of the street. Paul, thanks to Cora's aid, had won the race against time. Oh, I do hope he gets the place. She said if she stopped her engine and prepared to rest while Paul was within the office of the motor company. End of Chapter 12 Chapter 13 of the Motor Girls This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Motor Girls by Margaret Penrose Chapter 13 The Stolen Ride Cora was of a very independent character. She felt that she had done right, and she did not care who knew it. But, for all that, she could not help whispering to herself. I'm glad Sid didn't see me bringing Paul here. He evidently thought he had plenty of time. He didn't look my way. And besides, I had my veil down. Sid had disappeared after Paul. She decided that she would not wait in the main street for Paul, as he might be kept some time, but would spin through the park. She was about to start when Sid Wilcox reappeared. His face showed his anger. But, at the sight of Cora in her car, he called up a smile to his countenance. Why, good morning, he said pleasantly, stepping up to the auto. You look as though you had been speeding. For her face was flushed from the wind. A little was her smiling response. She could afford to smile now. Waiting for someone, he asked. Yes, it was too late to start off now. I'm waiting too. Suppose I get in and take a turn around the park with you. You've never invited me to try your new car. Cora was surprised. She knew very well she had not asked him to ride in the whirlwind. And she had no intention of doing so. She was about to reply when Sid jumped in beside her. I see you're not going to ask me, he went on. And as I have no idea of losing the chance for a spin, I'll get in without an invitation. With a quick motion, he shoved over the spark lever and the motor started. For a charge had remained in one of the cylinders, obviating the necessity of cranking up. There, we're all ready to go, he said. Cora was dumbfounded. But she felt it would not do to make a vigorous protest in such a public place. For a moment her feelings threatened to master her. Then she regained control of herself, threw in the clutch and turned the car in the direction of the park. After all, it might be better to humor Sid. So you brought poor Hastings over, draw the youth. Then he had seen her after all. Cora's precautions were useless. She nodded coldly. She was offended by her companion's impertinent tone. She started to turn off the power and apply the brake. She would not ride with him. Oh, you needn't get mad, continued Sid quickly. I did not mean to offend you. Though, if it had not been for you, Paul would not have gotten here ahead of me. You're a plucky girl, as well as a pretty one. Cora flushed an indignant look at him. I suppose you meant that for a compliment, she said, that you don't quite understand the art. It requires a certain delicacy. Such as Paul Hastings might have, sneered Sid. Cora felt that she could not bear with him a moment longer. I have a purchase to make here, she said, with as much frigidness in her tones as she could call up. I'll not ask you to wait, and she stopped the car in front of a dress-good store. Oh, it's no trouble to wait. I'd rather you wouldn't. Well, I will. He was smiling now. I never liked to leave a young lady when she is in a temper. Cora was positively angry, but again came that detestation of making a scene, which every well-bred girl feels, no matter how strong the provocation. She would make a purchase to gain time and then turn back to the bank building. She bought something she was in no need of and prolonged the transaction to an intermittable length to the no small disgust of the sales girl. When she got back to the machine, Sid was smiling more broadly than before. He had taken her place at the wheel. You won't mind me driving as far as the bank building, will you? He said. I really must get a new car. I miss mine so much, and it's in bad shape since you tried to smash me. I did nothing of the sort. It was your own fault. There, there, he said soothingly. We mustn't quarrel. Cora felt herself growing pale. She repressed a stinging reply, and without a word, took a seat in the torneau. Oh, so you won't sit beside me. He asked as he started the car. What makes you dislike me so, Cora? You and I used to pull a pretty good stroke, but lately you simply won't look at me. I don't dislike you. At least, I did not until this morning. Still angry, he taunted. Now, I call that mean. Why do you go operating with a common mechanic? Mr Hastings is a gentleman. She fled back at him, like an explosion of one of the cylinders of her car. He would never dream of acting as you are now, even if he is a common mechanic. No. His tone was tantalising. Please turn this corner, she said, icily. I want to get back to the bank building. Oh, do you? Well, I'm in no hurry, too. I can't seem to do any business there, or in the automobile place. And he flashed a meaning look at the girl. Now, we'll see, Miss Cora, who's going to have their own way. I'm driving this car. He threw in the second speed gear, and the auto dashed forward through the city streets. Had he suddenly gone mad? What was his object? He was heading for the Turnpike Road. For a few moments, Cora held her breath. Should she shout for help, no matter what happened? Then the fact of her unfortunate entanglement with the missing money came to her mind. Should she deliberately place herself in the position of another entanglement? Sid Willcock spent lower over the steering wheel and turned on more power. Paul Hastings rode out with you. He called over his shoulder to Cora, and I'm going to ride back with you. Nothing like having a variety and being a popular young lady. He was positively insulting. You are running away with my car, exclaimed Cora, stung to desperation. I shall have you arrested. Oh, no, you won't. He sneered. That would not be at all pleasant for you. Why do you say that? Why? Because you might have to explain how that pocketbook got into your car. I heard last night that they were going to have another investigation on new lines. How dare you, she cried, but that has nothing to do with this. If you do not stop my car at once, I shall call for help. I dare you too. Did he know that she would not? Now, Cora, Cora, he simpered. You must not do anything rash. Better let me have my little ride with you. And, incidentally, get ahead of my conceited rival, Paul Hastings. He may ride back in the car he is to drive across country, for he has probably done me out of that place. It will be a good chance for him to practice. Sid's audacity was positively startling. Perhaps it would be best to let him have his own way. In fact, how could she help herself? He had the wheel and was going at a fast rate of speed. She could not climb over to a front seat from the tournament. If she could shout, who would hear her above the noise of the car? For Sid, in mere spitefulness, had cut out the muffler. Cora sank back in utter disgust and despair. Whatever would Paul Hastings think of her, what would Walter Pennington say? Whoever saw her, it would make talk. Besides, Paul had come to New City in his shop clothes concealed under his duster, a fitting enough suit in which to ride in an auto, but not if he had to go back in the train. Perhaps she thought he had not brought money enough with him, depending on her to take him back to Chelton. And above all, what would people think of Cora Kimball riding with Sidney Wilcox? This is glorious, exalted the daring youth. I have just been pining for a ride in this car, Cora, and incidentally, I may as well admit that I have been pining for a talk with you. When have you heard from your friend Miss Downs? He fairly shot the question at Cora. Miss Downs, she said falteringly, Yes. I don't know that I ever heard from Mary Downs, was Cora's sharp reply. No, his voice was clearly questioning. Well, I want to say I think Mary a very slick little girl. Cora could not mistake his intention. He wanted her to think that he believed Mary was not one of her set. By slick, he probably meant to convey the idea that he considered the former milliner girl might be tricky. I am sorry Miss Downs is away, said Cora, simply. I intended to take her on a little run with me. She doesn't get many chances to go out in a car. No, I guess not. But don't you think it are rather risky to take up with shop girls? Shop girls? Why, any girl is a lady, no matter what her position, as long as she conducts herself like one. What do you mean by your insinuations? She almost detested herself for asking him this question, but she could not help it. Sid laughed. What have you to say against her character? Demanded Cora again. Sid seemed a bit uneasy. He had hardly expected to be pinned down so directly. Oh, of course, he finally answered. If you feel that way about her, I suppose nothing. I only wished to caution you. That money matter is still, well, let us say, in an awkward shape. Does Mary Downs know anything about it? Ask Cora directly. Determined to face Sid down. I'm sure I don't know, he draw, but you know she was there with the rest of us. End of chapter 13.