But Barbara's looks were against her. The rain had beaten her hair down over her eyes. Her clothes were wet and covered with mud from trying to help Ruth. What could she do? Barbara was frightened, but she kept a cool head. "I'll just let the old man haul me before the nearest magistrate. I expect _he'll_ listen to me!" She was shivering, but she knew that to think bravely helped to keep up one's courage. "If only it were not so awful for Aunt Sallie and the girls to be waiting there, I could stand my part," murmured Bab.

For fifteen minutes captors and girl jogged on. Only the old man talked, savagely, under his breath. He wanted to get home to his farmhouse and supper, but this made him only the more determined to punish Barbara.

"I suppose we'll take all night to get to town at this rate," she thought miserably.

For we are jolly good fellows, For we are jolly good fellows!

Barbara could hear the ring of the gay song and the distant whirr of a motor car coming down the road. If only she could attract someone's attention and make them listen to her! She could now see the lights of the automobile bearing down upon them.

Like a flash, before the farmer could guess what she was doing, Barbara whirled around on old Dobbin's back, and sat backwards. She put one hand to her lips. "Oh, stop! Stop, please!" she cried, looking like a gypsy, with her rain-blown hair and brown cheeks, which were crimson with blushes at her awkward position.

On account of the rain, and the oncoming darkness, the car was going slowly. At the end of one of the choruses the song stopped half a second. One of the young fellows in the car caught sight of Barbara, evidently being dragged along by the irate farmer and his wife.

"Hark! Stop! Look! Listen! Methinks, I see a female in distress," the young man called out.

The car stopped almost beside the buggy, and one of the boys in the car roared with laughter at Barbara's appearance, but the friend nearest him gave a warning prod.

"Hold on there!" called the first young man. "Where are you dragging this young lady against her will?"

"She's a hoss thief!" said the old man sullenly.

"I am no such thing," answered Barbara indignantly. Then, without any warning, Barbara threw back her head and laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks, mingling with the rain. It was absurdly funny, she sitting backwards on an old horse, one hand in his mane, and the farmer pulling them along with a rope. What must she look like to these boys?

Barbara saw they were gentlemen, and knew she had nothing more to fear.

"Do please listen, while I tell my story. I am not a horse thief! I've some friends up the road, stuck in the mud with a broken tire in their automobile. I saw this old horse in the farm-yard, and I borrowed or rented him, and started for help. The old man wouldn't let me explain.

Won't you," she looked appealingly at the four boys in their motor car, "please go back and help my friends?"

"Every man of us!" uttered one of the young fellows, springing up in his car. "And we'll drag this old tartar behind us with his own rope! We'll buy your old horse from you, if this young lady wants him as a souvenir."

It was the farmer's turn to be frightened.

"I am sure I beg your pardon, miss," he said, humbly enough now. His wife was in tears.

"Oh, never mind him," urged Barbara. "Please go on back as fast as you can to my friends. You'll find them up the lane to the left. I'll ride the old horse back to the farm, and settle things and join you later."

"Excuse me, Miss Paul Revere," disputed a tall, dark boy with a pair of laughing blue eyes that made him oddly handsome, "you'll do no such thing. Kindly turn over that fiery steed to me, take my seat in the car and show these knights-errant the way to the ladies in distress. I want to prove to you that a fellow can ride bareback as well as a girl can."

But the farmer was anxious to get out of trouble.

"I'll just lead the hoss back myself," he said. "No charge at all, miss." Evidently afraid of trouble, the farmer made a hurried start homeward, and was soon lost to view, while Barbara rode back to her friends with help.

In ten minutes two motor cars were making their way into New Haven. The pa.s.sengers had changed places. Ruth sat contentedly with her hands folded in her lap, by the side of a masculine chauffeur, who had introduced himself as Hugh Post, and turned out to be the roommate, at college, of Mrs. Cartwright's brother, Donald. Barbara, wrapped in steamer rugs, sat beside the boy with the dark hair and blue eyes, whom Miss Sallie had recognized as Ralph Ewing, son of the friends with whom they expected to board at Newport.

It was arranged that Barbara and Ruth were to sleep together the first night at New Haven. The truth was, they wanted to talk things over, and there were no connecting doors between the three rooms. The hotel was an old one, and the rooms were big and dreary. They were connected by a narrow private hall, opening into the main hall by a single door, just opposite Ruth's and Barbara's room. The automobile girls were in a distant wing of the hotel, but the accommodations were the best that could be found.

Miss Sallie bade their rescuers a prompt farewell on arrival at the hotel. "We shall be delighted to see you again in the morning," she said, "but we are too used up for anything more to-night."

Barbara was promptly put to bed. She was not even allowed to go down to supper with the other girls, but lay snuggled in heavy covers, eating from a tray by her bed. Once or twice she thought she heard light footfalls outside in the main hall, but she had noticed a window that opened on a fire escape, and supposed that one of the hotel guests had walked down the corridor to look out of this window.

In a short time Ruth came back and reported that the automobile girls, including Miss Sallie, were ready for bed.

"I am not a bit sleepy. Are you?" Ruth asked Barbara. "I will just jump in here with you, so we can talk better. We've certainly had enough adventures for one day!"

"Oh, no!" replied Barbara; "I feel quite wide awake." Five minutes later both girls were fast asleep.

CHAPTER IX-ONLY GIRLS

Barbara and Ruth both awoke with a feeling that a light had flashed over their faces, but neither of them spoke nor moved. How long they had slept they could not know. It seemed almost morning, but not a ray of daylight came through the closed blinds.

Across the room the flash shone for an instant, then darted on like a will-o'-the-wisp. Both girls dimly saw the outline of a man crouching in the shadow along the wall. His hand slid cautiously up the sides of the bureau, fingering, for a moment, the toilet articles on the dresser.

Then the search-light for an instant darted along the mantel and turned to the bed again. The girls were nearly fainting with terror. Ruth remembered that, for once, she had locked her money and her jewels in her trunk.

The man stood absolutely still and listened. Not a sound!

So quiet lay both girls that neither one knew the other had wakened.

The man continued his search, but plainly this was not the room he sought. Still moving, his feet making absolutely no sound, the dark figure with the lantern crept out of the girls' room, to the front of the corridor, and turned down the narrow, private hallway.

"Aunt Sallie!" Ruth thought with a gasp. She had said she would leave her door open, so she might hear if the girls called her in the night.

And Aunt Sallie carried a large sum of money for the expenses of the trip, and her own jewelry as well.

It may be that Ruth made a sound, anyway Barbara knew that her roommate was awake. Both had the same thought at just the same instant.

Noiselessly, without a word, on bare feet, both girls sped down the hall to Miss Sallie's open door. What they would do when they got there neither of them knew. It was time for action, not for thought! At the open door they paused and knelt in the shadow. Black darkness was about them, save in Aunt Sallie's room, where a dark lantern flashed its uncanny light. The girls were alert in every faculty. Now they could see more distinctly the form of the man who carried the lantern. He was of medium height and slender. Over his face he wore a black mask through which gleamed his eyes, narrowed to two fine points of steel.

Should the girls cry out? The man was armed and it might mean death to Aunt Sallie or themselves.

Evidently the burglar meant to make a thorough search of the room before he went to the bed, where, he guessed, the valuables were probably kept; but he must know first. The room was bare of treasure. He walked cautiously to where Miss Sallie still slept in complete unconsciousness, this time holding his lantern down, that its light should not waken the sleeping woman.

As he drew near her Ruth could bear the suspense no longer. She saw him drag out a bag from under Miss Sallie's head and could not refrain from uttering a low cry. It was enough. The man dashed the lantern to the ground and made a rush for the door.

There was no time for Ruth and Barbara to plan. They were only girls; but as the man ran toward them in the darkness, striking out fiercely, Barbara seized one of his legs, Ruth the other. Together, the three of them went down in the blackness. The girls had not the robber's strength, but they had taken him by surprise and they meant to fight it out.

He kicked violently to free himself, then turned and tore at Barbara's hands, but she clung to him. He raised the b.u.t.t end of his pistol and struck with all his force. As the blow fell with a terrific thud, Barbara relaxed her hold, and tumbled over in the darkness.

By this time Miss Sallie realized what was happening. Yet, in the darkness, she could only cry for help, and moan: "Let him alone, girls!

Let him go!"

With one leg free it seemed a simple task to get away. The noises were arousing the sleeping hotel guests. Another minute, and the burglar knew that he would be lost! With a violent wrench he tore himself away, and started down the hall, Ruth after him. If she could delay him a few seconds help would come!

The outside door leading from their private hall into the main one was nearly closed; in reaching to open it there was a second's delay. Ruth flung herself forward, caught the man's coat and clung desperately, but the burglar was too clever for her. In less than a second he slipped out of his coat, ran quickly to the window leading to the fire escape, and was gone! When a.s.sistance arrived, Ruth was standing in the front hall holding a man's coat in her hand.

"Oh, come!" she said in horror. "A light, please! Aunt Sallie has been robbed, and I am afraid Barbara has been killed!"