Even in the staid business office the girls found much to interest them.

Mollie's attention was first attracted to an energetic little machine at one side of the room. This odd looking machine ticked like a clock, but resembled one in no other way, and from it at intervals spun a narrow, ribbon-like strip of paper which curled and coiled into an elongated waste-paper basket. Mollie stood over the basket regarding the perplexing letters and figures printed on the paper ribbon.

"Do--do you make ribbons on this?" she questioned, laying a finger on the gla.s.s globe that covered the mechanism.

"Not exactly, my dear," answered Mr. Stuart. "But that little machine sometimes helps us to buy ribbons for our families. That is a ticker. It gives the market quotations. I hardly think you will be interested in it."

Mollie decided that she wasn't.

"If you are ready, girls, we will go over to the Board of Trade, where you will see the bulls and bears engaged in a pitched battle. It is to be a lively day on the floor of the Pit."

Mollie was frowning perplexedly.

"Are we really going to see a bull fight?" she whispered to Ruth. "Do the bulls and the bears really fight? I--I don't think I want to see them if they do."

"No, no, silly. Nothing of the sort. Oh, girls!" laughed Ruth merrily.

"Don't you dare tell them," admonished Mollie, "I'll never forgive you if you do."

"Never mind," called Ruth to the others, "I'll explain, dear. Of course you know nothing about these things. I wish I didn't. I wish father did not, either," she added with a touch of bitterness. "Bulls and bears are mere men. The bulls are those who try to force up the prices of wheat and other things, while the bears are the ones who seek to keep the prices down. I--I never have been able to make up my mind which of them is the most undesirable."

"I am sure Mr. Stuart isn't a bear," muttered Mollie.

"Indeed he is not," laughed Ruth, once more restored to good nature.

Instead of taking Mr. A. Bubble, the girls walked down from Mr. Stuart's office to the big, gloomy building that housed the Board of Trade. They were conducted to the gallery, where Mr. Stuart left them to go down to the brokers' rooms to consult with some of his friends.

It was a mad, wild scene that the little country girls gazed upon. It was like nothing they ever had seen before.

"Goodness me, they _are_ fighting!" cried Barbara in alarm.

Men were dashing about here and there. Hats were smashed, paper was being torn by nervous hands and hurled into the air, to fall like miniature snow flurries over the heads of the traders. Shouts and yells, hoa.r.s.e calls were heard from all parts of the floor. One man threw up a hand with the fingers spread wide apart. Instantly a dozen men hurled themselves upon him. He staggered and fell. Willing hands jerked him to his feet. It was then that the "Automobile Girls" saw that the unfortunate man's coat had been torn from him. His collar flapped under his ears and a tiny red mark was observable on one cheek.

"Oh!" gasped the Kingsbridge girls.

"Wha-a-at are they fighting about?" gasped Mollie, her face pale with excitement, perhaps mingled with a little fear.

"They aren't fighting." Ruth had to place her lips close to the ears of her companion to make herself heard. "They are buying and selling. That is the way business is done on the floor of the Pit. See! There is father!"

The girls gazed wide-eyed. Mr. Stuart had projected himself into the maelstrom of excited traders. He, like the rest, was waving his arms and shouting. A group of excited men instantly surrounded him. He was for the moment the centre of attention, for Robert Stuart was one of the largest and most successful traders on the Chicago Board of Trade. The battle waged furiously about him, while the "Automobile Girls" gazed in fascinated awe upon the strange, exciting scene.

All at once a gong sounded. The tension seemed to snap. Men who had been fighting and shouting suddenly ceased their activities. The bodies of some grew limp, as it were. Some staggered. Others walked from the floor laughing and chatting. Out of the crowds strode a man--a young man.

What first attracted the attention of the girls to him was a bandage about his head. He was walking straight toward them, though on the floor below. All at once he glanced up. Only Bab was looking down at him now.

His gaze swept over the gallery. His eyes rested for a moment on the face of Barbara Thurston.

"The man from section thirteen!" exclaimed Bab under her breath. Then as she caught his eyes, she gazed in trembling fascination. The man's features were contorted. Barbara thought it was the most frightful face she ever had gazed upon. Anger, deadly pa.s.sion and desperate purpose were written there so plainly that anyone could read. Looking her fairly in the face, the man sneered. Whether he recognized her or not, the girl did not know.

"Oh!" cried Bab, with a shudder.

"What is it, dear?" questioned Ruth anxiously.

"Oh, take me away from here. Please take me away," almost sobbed Barbara. "I--I can't stand it. It was awful."

"Come, girls," urged Ruth. "Bab is upset. I will confess that I have had enough of this place of nightmares." Rising, she led her friends down the stairs to the lower floor. Barbara was still trembling when they saw Mr. Stuart coming toward them. His face was set and stern. But the instant he caught sight of the "Automobile Girls" the sternness drifted slowly from his features, giving place to a pleased smile.

"Why, Barbara, how pale you are!" he exclaimed. "What _is_ the matter?"

"She is upset," answered Ruth briefly.

Mr. Stuart eyed her keenly.

"Was the excitement too much for you, my dear?" he asked.

"I--I think so," replied Bab. Then as the thought of that face and its dreadful expression recurred to her mind, she trembled more violently than before. Mr. Stuart linked his arm in hers and led her away, followed by the others of the party.

"It really is no place for young girls," said Mr. Stuart. "I should not have brought you here. Girls, we will take the car and go home at once.

Barbara had better lie down for a while before luncheon. She is completely unnerved."

This Barbara knew to be true, but by great effort she conquered her fit of trembling, and before the Stuart's residence was reached she had in a great measure regained her self-control.

CHAPTER V

AN EMBARRa.s.sING MOMENT

"OH, it is good to be back," declared Bab, as they entered the broad, cheerful hall of the Stuart mansion. "I don't feel as though I ever wanted to leave the house again."

"I like it here just as well as you do," answered Mollie. "But I shouldn't like to feel that I had to stay inside the house always."

Ruth had made good time on the return, now and then "shaving the paint from the sides of a street car," as Bab expressed it. Still, Ruth Stuart was not nearly as careless a driver as she appeared to be. She did take chances frequently, but the guiding hand at the wheel was sure and steady. She seldom used bad judgment. Her father had such confidence in her driving that he never interfered while riding with her. As for the three Kingsbridge girls, they were by this time so used to Ruth's driving that they declined to get nervous even when she had narrow escapes from collision.

"Girls, I am glad you have returned," greeted Miss Sallie, meeting them in the hallway as they entered. "You have callers."

"Pshaw!" muttered Ruth disgustedly. "Bab wants to lie down and rest. She is all upset. Can't we make our escape?"

"I am all right now," protested Barbara. "However, the company probably came to see Ruth instead of the rest of us."

"You are wrong," smiled Aunt Sallie.

"Who is it?" questioned Ruth.

"Cousin Richard, Cousin Jane and Tom Presby. You don't mind them."

"Oh, no indeed," laughed Ruth. "Come on, girls, let's go upstairs and get rid of our wraps, and remove some of this Chicago smoke from our faces. If I look as dirty as I feel I must be a sight."

"Father and mother here? You don't mean it?" exclaimed Olive in surprise. "I wonder why they have come in. Girls, you needn't worry about your appearance. Neither father nor mother will notice it. They are well used to the ways of healthy girls. As for Tom, well he doesn't figure at all. He wouldn't know whether our faces were clean or grimy.

Come right in. Are they in the library, Aunt Sallie?"