"Maybe you're right, Andy," he said. "I believe I am busy this afternoon. But take care that you don't get in the scrap. They will be bound to have revenge on some one." Andy sprang back of the car to avoid being observed by the women, as they turned to see which way they should go. Jack was not afraid of being noticed by the women, and he was a stranger to the detectives. The latter directed the women to walk over to the avenue, and then they followed at a "respectful distance." Andy slunk out from his corner, darted off in the opposite direction, and Jack knew he would be at the Kimball homestead considerable in advance of the others. "The Imp of the Strawberry Patch," thought Jack, in his usual way of making a story from a title. "He's a queer little chap, but not so slow, after all. How very much more reasonable it is for me to turn in and talk with Ed and Walter, than to go back home and jab answers at that quartette." Then the thought of Cora's word (that she would see the detectives) crossed his mind. For a moment he almost changed his resolution. Then he decided: "All's fair in love and war, and if this isn't war, it's a first-class sham battle." Andy was out of sight. The last "rays" of the two country skirts could just be made out, as their owners trudged along the avenue, and Jack Kimball took up his tune, where he had left it off, thrust his hands into his pockets, and sauntered off in the direction of the town garage. As he anticipated, both Ed and Walter were there, putting Walter's machine in ship-shape for the run after the girls. "Are you sure, Jack Kimball," demanded Ed, "that the young ladies will be in no way put out by our rudeness? I have a particular desire to please the ladies." "Oh, you'll please them, all right," replied Jack, taking a seat on the step of a handsome car, just in front of the one his friends were busy at. "There is nothing on earth pleases a girl so much as to run after her, when she distinctly says you shall not go." "Hear ye! The expert!" called out Walter, as he rubbed the chamois over the brass lamps at the front of his runabout. "Jack happens to know all about the game. Don't you remember the success of our hay-mobile run last year, when we went after the girls on their tour? Well, take it from me, the event this year will be equally disastrous--only more so," and Walter gave a last flourish to the lamp-polisher, then did a few fancy steps, in front of the car, to see that the reflection was correct. "What time do we start?" asked Ed. "Soon as we are ready," replied Jack. "The girls have already gone on, and I promised Mr. Robinson that we would keep just near enough to be within call, should they need us, but far enough away to be out of danger of their--Walter, what do you call it when a girl declares she can't bear a thing, and she just loves it?"