The Early Bird | Page 8

What should they talk about? Sam
solved that problem for him at once. "What's the swiftest conveyance
these people keep?" he asked briskly.
"Oh, you can get most anything you like," said Billy. "Saddle-horses
and carriages of all sorts; and last year they put in a couple of
automobiles, though scarcely any one uses them." There was a certain
amount of careless contempt in Billy's tone as he mentioned the hired
autos. Evidently they were not considered to be as good form as other
modes of conveyance.
"Where's the garage?" asked Sam.
"Right around back of the hotel. Just follow that drive."
"Thanks," said the other crisply. "I'll see you this evening," and he
stalked away leaving Billy gasping for breath at the suddenness of Sam.
After all, though, he was glad to be rid of Mr. Turner. He knew the
Stevenses himself, and it had slowly dawned on him that by having his
own horse saddled he could beat Princeman over there.
It took Sam just about one minute to negotiate for an automobile, a neat
little affair, shiny and new, and before they were half-way to Hollis
Creek, his innate democracy led him into conversation with the driver,
an alert young man of the near-by clay.
"Not very good soil in this neighborhood," Sam observed. "I notice
there is a heavy outcropping of stone. What are the principal crops?"
"Summer resorters," replied the driver briefly.
"And do you mean to tell me that all these farm-houses call themselves
summer resorts?" inquired Sam.
"No, only those that have running water. The others just keep
boarders."

"I see," said Sam, laughing.
A moment later they passed over a beautifully clear stream which ran
down a narrow pocket valley between two high hills, swept under a
rickety wooden culvert, and raced on across a marshy meadow,
sparkling invitingly here and there in the sunlight.
"Here's running water without a summer resort," observed the
passenger, still smiling.
"It's too much shut in," replied the chauffeur as one who had voiced a
final and insurmountable objection. All the "summer resorts" in this
neighborhood were of one pattern, and no one would so much as dream
of varying from the first successful model.
Sam scarcely heard. He was looking back toward the trough of those
two picturesquely wooded hills, and for the rest of the drive he asked
but few questions.
At Hollis Creek, where he found a much more imposing hotel than the
one at Meadow Brook, he discovered Miss Stevens, clad in simple
white from canvas shoes to knotted cravat, in a summer-house on the
lawn, chatting gaily with a young man who was almost fat. Sam had
seen other girls since he had entered the grounds, but he could not
make out their features; this one he had recognized from afar, and as
they approached the summer-house he opened the door of the machine
and jumped out before it had come properly to a stop.
"Good morning, Miss Stevens," he said with a cheerful self-confidence
which was beautiful to behold. "I have come over to take you a little
spin, if you'll go."
Miss Stevens gazed at the caller quizzically, and laughed outright.
"This is so sudden," she murmured.
The caller himself grinned.

"Does seem so, if you stop to think of it," he admitted. "Rather like
dropping out of the clouds. But the auto is here, and I can testify that
it's a smooth-running machine. Will you go?"
She turned that same quizzical smile upon the young man who was
almost fat, and introduced him, curly hair and all, to Mr. Turner as Mr.
Hollis, who, it afterward transpired, was the heir to Hollis Creek Inn.
"I had just promised to play tennis with Mr. Hollis," Miss Stevens
stated after the introduction had been properly acknowledged, "but I
know he won't mind putting it off this time," and she handed him her
tennis bat.
"Certainly not," said young Hollis with forcedly smiling politeness.
"Thank you, Mr. Hollis," said Sam promptly. "Just jump right in, Miss
Stevens."
"How long shall we be gone?" she asked as she settled herself in the
tonneau.
"Oh, whatever you say. A couple of hours, I presume."
"All right, then," she said to young Hollis; "we'll have our game in the
afternoon."
"With pleasure," replied the other graciously, but he did not look it.
"Where shall we go?" asked Sam as the driver looked back inquiringly.
"You know the country about here, I suppose."
"I ought to," she laughed. "Father's been ending the summer here ever
since I was a little girl. You might take us around Bald Hill," she
suggested to the chauffeur. "It is a very pretty drive," she explained,
turning to Sam as the machine wheeled, and at the same time waving
her hand gaily