“Yes; I’ve some business over there, and as it’s getting late I’ll have to hurry.  I’ll bid you all good-by.  Hope you get safely home.”

Ed jumped into his car, which he had quickly cranked up, and called a general farewell.

“So long,” answered Jack.

“Come on,” called Walter, as Ed’s car puffed out of sight.  “We’ll have a load to pull now, Cora.”

“Perhaps I had better get in with Jack and Bess,” remarked Belle.  “We can manage it—­if we squeeze some.”

Then she blushed, and everybody laughed.

“The more the merrier,” replied Jack.  “I think it will be a good idea, though.  We’ll get home quicker than Cora and her tow will.”

Belle climbed into the Get There.  This left Cora alone with Walter in the big car.  Ida and Sid stood on the ground, apparently waiting for an invitation to get in somewhere.

“I’ll have to steer my car,” said Sid.  “You had better get in Cora’s machine, Ida, for it’s no fun riding in a towed auto.”

“Yes, do come in here,” said Cora quickly, but Ida hung back and looked miserably unhappy.

“Come on,” and Walter added his invitation.  “I’m going to be the ‘shuffler,’ and I may as well have something worth while to ‘shuffle’ while I’m at it.”

Ida smiled at this.  It was evident that she could not resist after this appeal—­especially as it came from Walter, who found much favor in her eyes.

Ida climbed into the big car nimbly enough, and sat on the thick cushions in the roomy tonneau beside Mary.

“I guess she’d rather be in front,” remarked Bess in a whisper to Belle, but she took care that Jack should not hear.

Walter started Cora’s car off, and Sid’s followed, with himself at the wheel, looking very glum.  Jack brought up in the rear with the pretty twins.

The Whirlwind easily towed the weight of the disabled runabout, and the autoists were soon approaching town.

“Let me out at the post-office, please,” begged Mary of Cora, as they rolled through the village streets.  “I had better not let madam see me out riding.”

“Why, she gave you permission, didn’t she?” asked Cora in surprise.

“But I would rather get out here,” insisted Mary, not answering the question directly.

“If you’ll cast me loose, I’ll run my machine in this shop,” suddenly called Sid, as they passed a rather tumble-down shack on a side street.

“But you’re not going to let old Smith tinker with it, are you?” asked Walter.

“Oh, I don’t know what I’ll do with it!” snapped Sid.  “May as well leave it here as anywhere else.”

Smith’s place was a second-rate blacksmith shop, while at Chelton Center, a little farther on, there was a fine garage—­Newton’s—­the one at which Cora and the twins had met the handsome machinist.

“Why don’t you take it to Newton’s?” asked Cora.  “We’ll go there with you.  I—­er—­, I know the machinist there.”