Polly's Business Venture Part 10

By the time the inspection of the house was over, Mrs. Fabian returned with just such a bra.s.s pedestal banquet lamp as Mrs. Tomlinson had secretly envied and long hoped for. Such joy and pleasure as she took in selecting a clean crocheted mat to spread on the cold marble slab of the center table, and then place thereon her vision come true, was worth all the trouble Mrs. Fabian had had in finding the lamp at a second-hand shop at Stamford; but later when that wise collector examined her old candle-sticks and pitcher, she felt a hundred times repaid for the lamp--as she truly was.

The merry collectors started home that afternoon, after enjoying the picnic luncheon beside a brook in the woods back of Stamford, with their hopes pitched high for future successes in collecting.

Mr. Dalken heard from Carl about the successful quest that day, and telephoned to the Fabians, that evening. The Ashbys had hurried over when they heard of the pieces secured at the farm-house, and were present when Mr. Dalken questioned the girls all about their "find."

"Now we're dying to start again, Mr. Dalken, and hunt up other trophies,"

said Polly, in conclusion.

CHAPTER VII

A REVOLUTIONARY RELIC HUNT

So delighted were the amateur collectors with the result of their first search for antiques, that they planned another trip a few days later.

Carl could not drive the car for them, as Mr. Dalken had invited a number of business friends who were in New York for a few days to go out on Long Island with him, for the day. He took the seven-pa.s.senger car and Carl for the drive, so the girls had to be contented with the smaller car. But neither Mr. Dalken nor Carl knew that the girls proposed going alone.

They believed Mr. Fabian or Mr. Ashby's chauffeur would drive the car.

Eleanor bragged about her ability to drive an automobile and the girls knew from experience how well Dodo could drive, so the outing was planned without any grown-up being consulted about the driving or chaperoning.

"Did not Carl have a road-map in the side-pocket of the car, the day he drove us to Stamford?" asked Polly.

"Yes, but the car is in the garage, and the map with it," returned Eleanor.

"Daddy has a road-map. I'll get his," remarked Ruth Ashby, who had been invited to be one of the party this trip.

"Then bring it around tonight, Ruth, when you come to plan about the route we ought to choose for this outing," said Polly.

Ruth hurried home and immediately after dinner, that evening, she found the map in the library desk-drawer and tucked it in her pocket. As she ran through the front hall she called to her mother:

"I'm going over to the Fabians for a little talk, Mummy."

"But, Ruth, you just came from there a few moments before dinner," came from Mrs. Ashby.

"Oh, I didn't visit that time! I only stopped in with the girls to wait and see if Nancy had a map they all need. Now I'm going to visit,"

explained Ruth.

Mrs. Ashby laughed at a girl's interpretations of a call and Ruth ran out.

Their pretty heads were closely bending over the map, when Mr. Fabian pa.s.sed the living-room door and stopped a moment to consider the picture they made under the soft-shaded light. He went on to his private den without saying a word to distract their attention from (as he thought) their books of learning.

"Now listen here, girls!" exclaimed Nancy, tracing a line on the map.

"Polly doesn't know much about this end of the United States, and Eleanor doesn't know much more than Polly does but I am supposed to be well informed about Westchester County, having lived there when I was a little girl. So I can tell you something about this road I've traced."

The four girls lifted their heads and listened eagerly.

"You know Dobb's Ferry and its vicinity was there in the days of the Revolution, and Washington camped at that town. Even the Headquarters he occupied is to be seen as it was at that time. This road, running easterly from Dobb's Ferry, is the old turnpike road used by the army as it marched towards the Hudson.

"Now this is what I say! Why shouldn't there be lots of old houses along that road, or in that locality, that were there during Washington's time?

And if standing still, why shouldn't there be old furniture, or odd bits, to be found in them?"

Eleanor instantly caught Nancy up on one of her phrases. "Naturally the houses would be standing still--you wouldn't want them to be dancing a tango, would you?"

"Oh, pshaw, Nolla!" scorned Nancy, in disgust at such a poor attempt to joke, "you know, well enough, what I mean."

The other girls laughed at Nancy, and Polly added: "Well, what is your plan?"

"I say, let's drive along the River Road as far as Dobb's Ferry, and then turn off to this road and venture on any country road we find, that has old-fashioned houses which look as if they were built in 1776."

"That sounds thrilling!" laughed Eleanor.

Her companions refused to smile this time, so she sat grinning at Nancy, as if waiting to attack her again.

"I think that plan will answer as well as anything Nolla has proposed, don't you?" asked Nancy.

"Yes, we'll try your scheme out, Nan. But you'll have to be the guide through the country, as we haven't the least idea of the lay of the land," said Dodo.

"We'll succeed splendidly, as long as we have this map," promised Nancy.

The girls pictured many rare treasures added to their collection after this proposed trip, and when it was time for Ruth to go home, each girl had chosen rare and wonderful objects to be found in these imaginary Colonial home-steads they expected to visit on the morrow.

Cla.s.ses had to be attended to before excursions could be enjoyed and then it was lunch-time; but after that they finally started on this trip.

Mrs. Fabian was out with Mrs. Ashby, so the girls met no one who would question them, when they were ready to leave. Ruth and Dodo called at the Fabians and they all went to the large garage where Mr. Dalken kept his automobiles; and the man, having had instructions to give the car to these young friends of the owner, whenever they wanted it, said nothing but backed the car out to the street for them.

The five girls drove away in high spirits, for they were eager to harvest all the marvelous antiques they had ever read or heard of, that might be scattered throughout the country-sides wherever General Washington had made a camp for his army.

Dodo was an excellent driver but she had no New York license, and the girls had forgotten all about that necessity. So the car was speeding along the boulevarde at about twenty-five miles an hour, when a traffic policeman in Yonkers held up his hand to stop the northward-bound travelers.

Dodo had just turned her head momentarily to send a quizzical look at Polly who sat in the back seat, and so failed to see the raised hand. The car therefore ran across the street and at the same time, a low-built racer shot along the right of way and the two noses rammed each other, although both drivers used the emergency brakes.

The girls screamed with fright at the unexpected shock and the dreadful jolt they received when the cars collided. And two young college students cursed politely and scowled fearfully at the "crazy girl-drivers" who never knew which way they were going. But the poor cars suffered the most from this conflict. Headlights were smashed, fenders and mud guards were so dented in as to look pitiful, while the front wheels of both cars were interlocked in such a way that they could not be separated.

This cause held up all traffic on both streets and annoyed the officer so that he threatened a wholesale arrest. He asked the names of both drivers. The young man gave his as "John Baxter, New York." His license number was taken, and he was asked for his permit. He showed it without hesitation, and the girls gazed at each other in dismay. They had forgotten about such a need!

The officer came over to Dodo's side.

"What's your name?"

"Dodo Alexander," stammered she, forgetting her full name.

"Humph! Baptized that name?"

"Yes--no, oh NO. I never was baptized, I reckon."

"Humph--a heathen, I see!" snarled the policeman. "Well, where do you live, or where'd you hail from?"