Part 3 (2/2)

They turned into a broad macadamized road, and here were more autos, and more dust, and more racing. Now and then they crossed a trolley or a railroad track, and here was always a warning sign; but Oliver must have had some occult way of knowing that the track was clear, for he never seemed to slow up. Now and then they came to villages, and did reduce speed; but from the pace at which they went through, the villagers could not have suspected it.

And then came another adventure. The road was in repair, and was very bad, and they were picking their way, when suddenly a young man who had been walking on a side path stepped out before them, and drew a red handkerchief from his pocket, and faced them, waving it. Oliver muttered an oath.

”What's the matter?” cried his brother.

”We're arrested!” he exclaimed.

”What!” gasped the other. ”Why, we were not going at all.”

”I know,” said Oliver; ”but they've got us all the same.”

He must have made up his mind at one glance that the case was hopeless, for he made no attempt to put on speed, but let the young man step aboard as they reached him.

”What is it?” Oliver demanded.

”I have been sent out by the Automobile a.s.sociation,” said the stranger, ”to warn you that they have a trap set in the next town. So watch out.”

And Oliver gave a gasp, and said, ”Oh! Thank you!” The young man stepped off, and they went ahead, and he lay back in his seat and shook with laughter.

”Is that common?” his brother asked, between laughs.

”It happened to me once before,” said Oliver. ”But I'd forgotten it completely.”

They proceeded very slowly; and when they came to the outskirts of the village they went at a funereal pace, while the car throbbed in protest. In front of a country store they saw a group of loungers watching them, and Oliver said, ”There's the first part of the trap.

They have a telephone, and somewhere beyond is a man with another telephone, and beyond that a man to stretch a rope across the road.”

”What would they do with you?” asked the other.

”Haul you up before a justice of the peace, and fine you anywhere from fifty to two hundred and fifty dollars. It's regular highway robbery--there are some places that boast of never levying taxes; they get all their money out of us!”

Oliver pulled out his watch. ”We're going to be late to lunch, thanks to these delays,” he said. He added that they were to meet at the ”Hawk's Nest,” which he said was an ”automobile joint.”

Outside of the town they ”hit it up” again; and half an hour later they came to a huge sign, ”To the Hawk's Nest,” and turned off. They ran up a hill, and came suddenly out of a pine-forest into view of a hostelry, perched upon the edge of a bluff overlooking the Sound. There was a broad yard in front, in which automobiles wheeled and sputtered, and a long shed that was lined with them.

Half a dozen attendants ran to meet them as they drew up at the steps.

They all knew Oliver, and two fell to brus.h.i.+ng his coat, and one got his cap, while the mechanic took the car to the shed. Oliver had a tip for each of them; one of the things that Montague observed was that in New York you had to carry a pocketful of change, and scatter it about wherever you went. They tipped the man who carried their coats and the boy who opened the door. In the washrooms they tipped the boys who filled the basins for them and those who gave them a second brus.h.i.+ng.

The piazzas of the inn were crowded with automobiling parties, in all sorts of strange costumes. It seemed to Montague that most of them were flashy people--the men had red faces and the women had loud voices; he saw one in a sky-blue coat with bright scarlet facing. It occurred to him that if these women had not worn such large hats, they would not have needed quite such a supply of the bright-coloured veiling which they wound over the hats and tied under their chins, or left to float about in the breeze.

The dining-room seemed to have been built in sections, rambling about on the summit of the cliff. The side of it facing the water was all gla.s.s, and could be taken down. The ceiling was a maze of streamers and j.a.panese lanterns, and here and there were orange-trees and palms and artificial streams and fountains. Every table was crowded, it seemed; one was half-deafened by the clatter of plates, the voices and laughter, and the uproar of a negro orchestra of banjos, mandolins, and guitars. Negro waiters flew here and there, and a huge, stout head-waiter, who was pirouetting and strutting, suddenly espied Oliver, and made for him with smiles of welcome.

”Yes, sir--just come in, sir,” he said, and led the way down the room, to where, in a corner, a table had been set for sixteen or eighteen people. There was a shout, ”Here's Ollie!”--and a pounding of gla.s.ses and a chorus of welcome--”h.e.l.lo, Ollie! You're late, Ollie! What's the matter--car broke down?”

Of the party, about half were men and half women. Montague braced himself for the painful ordeal of being introduced to sixteen people in succession, but this was considerately spared him. He shook hands with Robbie Walling, a tall and rather hollow-chested young man, with slight yellow moustaches; and with Mrs. Robbie, who bade him welcome, and presented him with the freedom of the company.

Then he found himself seated between two young ladies, with a waiter leaning over him to take his order for the drinks. He said, a little hesitatingly, that he would like some whisky, as he was about frozen, upon which the girl on his right, remarked, ”You'd better try a champagne c.o.c.ktail--you'll get your results quicker.” She added, to the waiter, ”Bring a couple of them, and be quick about it.”

”You had a cold ride, no doubt, in that low car,” she went on, to Montague. ”What made you late?”

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