“Oh Bessie, you’re not going to be mean about it, and keep on being angry?  You won’t tell Miss Eleanor, will you?  She’d send me home—­I know she would!”

“I won’t tell her, and I’m not going to be angry, either, Dolly.  But I’m very much afraid you’ll be sorry yourself before we get back to the farm, and I don’t see how Miss Eleanor can help finding out, because I’m pretty sure Mr. Holmes isn’t going to get us back in time for lunch.”

“Why, Bessie, he said he would—­he promised!  Don’t you think he means to keep his word?”

“I hope so, Dolly, but he told me something once that wasn’t so, and—­oh, well, let’s not worry about it now, anyhow.  I can’t explain everything to you now, there isn’t time.  It’s a lovely ride, isn’t it?  We might as well enjoy ourselves, now that we’re in for it.”

“That’s what I say, Bessie.  There’s no use crying over spilt milk, is there?  And I guess it will be all right.  I think he’s awfully nice, I don’t see why you don’t like him.”

“You will when you know as much as I do, Dolly, I’m afraid.  But we won’t talk any more about that.  Oh, look, there is a town, right here!  We’re coming into it now, do you see?  Probably this is the place Mr. Holmes meant he was going to bring us to.”

But Bessie’s fears were redoubled a minute or so later, when the car, without slackening speed at all, shot through a street that was lined with shops, two or three of which, as they could see, were drug stores with ice-cream soda signs that they could easily read even from the fast moving car.

Looking at Bessie as if she were already a little frightened and sorry, Dolly leaned over and touched Mr. Holmes on the shoulder.

“Aren’t you going to stop here?” she asked, “I’m sure those are awfully nice looking stores Mr. Holmes.”

He slowed up the car at once, and turned to them with a pleasant smile.

“Oh, this isn’t the place I meant at all,” he said.  “I don’t know anything about the stores here.  The place I was thinking of is much better, and it’s not very far away.  Besides, it’s early yet, and I think we ought to have as much of a ride as we can, don’t you?”

Dolly looked dubious.  One glance at Bessie had show her that her chum was not prepared to accept this explanation.  But they had no choice, for Holmes, seeming to take their assent to his plan for granted, had turned on full power, and the car was roaring out into open country again, but now in a direction almost at right angles to its former course.  They were traveling due west, and Bessie, without anything definite to alarm her, felt herself growing more and more nervous with the passing minutes.  She felt that something was wrong.

Her distrust of Holmes, save for so much of it as was due to his statement that he had never been in Hedgeville, when she herself had seen him there, was almost wholly instinctive, but Bessie knew that instinct is sometimes a better guide than reason, and she began to regret Dolly’s impulsive action in getting into the car more and more.  Still, as matters stood, there was nothing to do but wait and see what was to happen.