“Gracious!  What’s that?” asked Elizabeth.

“Only the gears,” replied Cora calmly.  “I hope I didn’t strip them, but I might have done that changing a little better.  I wasn’t quite quick enough.”

The car was going rather fast now.

“Don’t put on quite so much speed,” begged Isabel.  “I’m so—­”

“Now please don’t say you’re nervous,” interrupted Cora.

“But I am.”

“Well, you needn’t be.  I know how to run the car.”

“Of course, since Paul showed her,” put in Elizabeth.

The speed was a trifle too fast for an inexperienced hand at the wheel, but Cora grasped the wooden circlet firmly, and with a keen look ahead prepared for the descent of a rather steep hill.

Coming up the grade were a number of autos, containing Chelton folks, who had been to the depot with early city commuters.  Chelton was a great place for commuters and autos.

“Please don’t put on any more speed, Cora,” again begged Isabel, leaning over toward the front seat.  “This is such a steep hill.”

“All right, I won’t,” and Cora placed her foot more firmly on the brake pedal, while she was ready to grasp the emergency lever quickly, in case anything happened.

“Oh, there’s Ida!” suddenly cried Elizabeth as a small runabout loomed up in front of them.

“And Sid Wilcox.  I wonder what she finds interesting in that—­that lazy chap?”

“A companion—­that’s all,” replied her sister.  “I think Ida is about as unenergetic a girl as I ever knew.”

“Funny thing,” said Cora, speaking loudly enough to be heard above the noise of the motor, “how she manages to keep going.  She rides as often in Sid’s car as if—­well, as if she was his own sister.”

“Oftener than most sisters,” added Belle significantly.

“They have just left her friend, who was on from New City, at the depot,” said Bess.  “It’s quite handy to have a chum with a motor-car—­even if it does happen to be a chap like Sid.”

“Well, I guess Ida’s harmless, even if she is jealous,” said Cora.  “I do believe that’s all that ails Ida—­just plain jealousy.”

“Maybe,” assented Isabel.

They rode along for some time, coasting down the steeper parts of the hill, and running easily where there was a level stretch.  They were now approaching the worst part of the descent.  From this point there was quite a steep slant to the level highway, which the railroad crossed at grade, and approached on a curve.

There was a long-drawn, shrill whistle.

“What’s that?” exclaimed Elizabeth.

“The train!” cried Isabel.  “Oh, the train!  Cora, the train is coming!”

“I hear it,” spoke Cora calmly, but she pressed her foot down harder on the brake pedal, and tried to use the compression of the cylinders as a retarding force, as Paul had showed her.

“Can’t you slow up?” pleaded Elizabeth.  There was a note of alarm in her voice.