Part 6 (1/2)
”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 the blacksmith shop.
Having once gained the spot where the roads met, Tavia stopped to look back at the car.
”I declare!” she gasped. ”He is climbing into the machine.”
”Oh, what shall we do?” wailed Dorothy.
”Can't do a thing but hide here until the boys come. We can see him if he gets out, but if we went over to the house we might miss the boys, and they might run right into his arms.”
”Oh,” cried Dorothy. ”I am so dreadfully frightened. Don't you suppose we can get any help until the boys come?”
”Not unless someone happens to pa.s.s. And this is a back road: no one seems to go home from work this way.”
”Oh, if someone only would!” and Dorothy was now almost in tears.
”Just see!” exclaimed Tavia, ”he is examining the front now. Suppose he could start it up?”
”But he cannot,” Dorothy declared, ”if the car worked the boys would never have left us here all alone,” and again she was dangerously near shedding tears.
”There now, he is getting in again. Well, I hope he stays there until someone comes,” said Tavia. ”Isn't it getting dark?”
”And if the boys do not get back-- Oh, perhaps we had better run right straight on. We may get to some town--”
”We would be running into a deeper woods, and goodness knows, it is dark enough here. No, we had better stay near the house, then, if worst comes to worst, we can ask them to keep us all night--”
”Tavia you make me shudder,” cried Dorothy. ”Of course we will not have to do any such thing.”
But Tavia's spirit of adventure was thoroughly aroused, and, in her sensational way, she forgot for the moment the condition of Dorothy's nerves, and really enjoyed the speculation of what might happen if ”the worst came to the worst.”
”There he goes again,” she burst out, beginning to see humor in the situation, as the figure in the car climbed from the front seat to the back. ”He is like the little girl who got into the house of the 'Three Bears.' One is too high and one is too low--there now, Doro, he has found your place 'just right' and will go to sleep there, see if he doesn't.”