College stories; Sports stories; Yale University -- Juvenile fiction
"Cousin Mary is on," said the Codfish. "Where does she live?"
"O, just around the corner. She loves motoring, too, and we poor
people down here can't have automobiles of our own."
It was but a minute's trip to Cousin Mary's, and matters were
facilitated by discovering the young lady in question standing in
her doorway, hatted and gloved, with a camera in her hand. She was
more than plump, she was decidedly fat and had red hair. The Codfish
decided he wasn't for Cousin Mary. Introductions were quickly made
and the call explained. Cousin Mary was willing to ride anywhere so
long as it was in a motor.
"Now where shall we go?" inquired the Codfish. "You tell us. This
will be a personally conducted tour, you know."
"O, it would be just too lovely to drive to Virginia Beach," gushed
Miss Smith.
Chalmers, who knew something of the geography of the territory,
winced and tried to catch his companion's eye, but that individual
failed to see the warning glance, and ordered--"Drive to Virginia
Beach, James."
"All right, sah," and the machine shot off for the Beach. Chalmers
very generously took the seat alongside the driver, leaving the
Codfish with the girls in the tonneau, which was a disposition highly
satisfactory to the latter. But he took care to put Cousin Mary on
the far side of the seat.
As mile after mile was spun off, and still the destination was not
reached, the Codfish began to wonder what the length of the drive
might be, but his pride forbade him to ask. On and on went the car
at an easy pace. They had been out nearly two hours from the hotel,
and the Codfish began to make mental calculations. "Two hours, that
makes eight dollars," he calculated, "another hour and a half back,
that makes fourteen. That makes some little bill. I can readily see
I'm busted already!" His conversation began to halt, but the lovely
Miss Smith was concerned only in the beauties of the landscape which
she pointed out to her companion on the seat, who was not so deeply
interested as he might have been had things been different.
At last the car drew up at the Beach. "How far do you call it down
here, James?" inquired the Codfish, nonchalantly. He was still
calculating.
"I reckon about twenty-five miles," said the driver. "Kaint make much
time on these here roads."
"Yes, I noticed that," returned the Codfish dryly.
The young ladies were overjoyed to be at the Beach. They walked on
the sands and took photographs.
"Cousin Mary just loves to take photographs," Miss Smith explained.
Then the girls discovered they had a call to make--would Mr.
Chalmers and Mr. Gleason mind? A very dear girl friend whom they
hadn't seen for a whole month was at the Beach. Would they come? No,
then they would only be gone a few minutes. It was "too lovely" to
have such a chance to call.
So the boys were left behind to wait impatiently. The minutes passed
and then more minutes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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