The Motor Girls on a Tour | Page 4

girl and a boy, or, more properly speaking, a young lady
and a young gentleman. As they neared the motor girls Bess called
back to Belle:
"There come Sid and Ida. I thought they were not on speaking terms."
"They were not, but they are now," answered Belle with a light laugh.
"Why should a girl turn her back on a young man with a brand new
machine?"
"It runs like a locomotive," murmured Bess, as, at that moment, the
other car shot by, the occupants bowing indifferently to the Robinson
girls as the machines came abreast.
Cora turned and shook her head significantly when the third car had
forged ahead. She, too, seemed surprised that Ida Giles should be riding
with Sid Wilcox. Then Bess rolled up alongside the Whirlwiind.
"My, but they are going!" she called to Cora. "I thought Ida said she
would never ride with Sid again."
"Why not?" flashed Cora merrily. "Isn't Sid's car new and - yellow?"
"Like a dandelion," put in Belle, who was noted for her aesthetic
tendencies. "And, precisely like a dandelion, I fancy that machine
would collapse without rhyme or reason. Did you every try a bunch of
dandelions on the table?"

The girls all laughed. No one but Belle Robinson would ever try such
an experiment. Everybody knew the ingratitude of the yellow field
flower.
"I can never bear anything of that color since my valentine luncheon,"
declared Belle bravely. "That's why I predict disaster for Sid's new
car."
"They have dropped something!" exclaimed Hazel as she peered ahead
at the disappearing runabout.
Bess had taken the lead.
"Let's put on speed," she suggested, and, pulling the lever, her car shot
ahead, and was soon within close range of the yellow runabout.
"Be careful!" called her sister. "You will run over - "
It was too late. At that moment the Flyaway dashed over something -
the pieces flew in all directions.
"Their lunch-hamper!" exclaimed Belle.
The runabout had turned to one side, and then stopped. Bess jammed
on the brakes and also came to a standstill.
"Well!" growled Sid Wilcox, approaching the wreck in the road.
"I - couldn't stop," faltered Bess remorsefully.
"I guess you didn't try," snapped Ida Giles, her cheeks aflame almost to
the tint of her fiery tresses.
"I really did," declared Bess. "I would not have spoiled your hamper for
anything."
"And your lunch was in it?" gasped Belle. "We're awfully sorry!"
Bent and crippled enameled dishes from the lately fine and completely

equipped auto-hamper were scattered about in all directions. Here and
there a piece of pie could be identified, while the chicken sandwiches
were mostly recognizable by the fact that a newly arrived yellow dog
persistently gnawed at one or two particular mud spots.
"Oh, we can go to a hotel for dinner," announced the young man,
getting back into his car.
"But they ought to pay for the hamper," grumbled Ida, loud enough for
the Robinson girls to make sure of her remark.
"We will, of course," called Bess, just as Cora and Hazel came up, and
then the Wilcox runabout darted off again.
"Table d'hote?" called Cora, laughing.
"No, a la carte," replied Bess, picking up a piece of damaged celery,
putting it on a slice of uninjured bread and proffering it to Hazel.
"What a shame!" sighed Hazel. "Their picnic will be spoiled."
"But look at the picnic we've had," put in Belle. "You should have seen
Ida's face. A veritable fireless cooker."
"And Sid - he supplied the salt hay," declared Bess. "I felt as if I were
smothered in a ton of it."
"And that was the peace-offering hamper," declared Cora, alighting
from her car and closely viewing the wreck. "Jack told me that Ida gave
Sid a handsome hamper for the new car."
"I told you that the yellow machine would turn - "
"Dandelion," Hazel interrupted Belle. "Well, I agree with you that was
an ungrateful trick. To demolish the lunch, of all other available things
to do, on a day like this!"
"Souvenirs?" suggested Cora, removing her glove to dig out of the mud
a knife, and then a fork.

"Oh, forget it!" exclaimed Bess. "I am sure I want to. Let's get going
again, if we are to make the Woodbine Way in time to plan the tour.
I'm just crazy about the trip," and the enthusiastic girl expended some
of her pent-up energies on the crank at the front of the Flyaway.
Cora was also cranking up. "Yes," she said, "we had best be on the road
again. We are due at the park at twelve. I expect Maud will have the
family tree along and urge us to stop overnight at every gnarl on the
`trunk.'"
"We might have asked Ida and Sid,"