"It runs like a locomotive," murmured Bess, as, at that moment, the other car shot by, the occupants bowing indifferently to the Robinson girls as the machines came abreast. Cora turned and shook her head significantly when the third car had forged ahead. She, too, seemed surprised that Ida Giles should be riding with Sid Wilcox. Then Bess rolled up alongside the Whirlwind. "My, but they are going!" she called to Cora. "I thought Ida said she would never ride with Sid again." "Why not?" flashed Cora merrily. "Isn't Sid's car new and--yellow?" "Like a dandelion," put in Belle, who was noted for her aesthetic tendencies. "And, precisely like a dandelion, I fancy that machine would collapse without rhyme or reason. Did you every try a bunch of dandelions on the table?" The girls all laughed. No one but Belle Robinson would ever try such an experiment. Everybody knew the ingratitude of the yellow field flower. "I can never bear anything of that color since my valentine luncheon," declared Belle bravely. "That's why I predict disaster for Sid's new car." "They have dropped something!" exclaimed Hazel as she peered ahead at the disappearing runabout. Bess had taken the lead. "Let's put on speed," she suggested, and, pulling the lever, her car shot ahead, and was soon within close range of the yellow runabout. "Be careful!" called her sister. "You will run over--" It was too late. At that moment the Flyaway dashed over something--the pieces flew in all directions. "Their lunch-hamper!" exclaimed Belle. The runabout had turned to one side, and then stopped. Bess jammed on the brakes and also came to a standstill. "Well!" growled Sid Wilcox, approaching the wreck in the road. "I--couldn't stop," faltered Bess remorsefully. "I guess you didn't try," snapped Ida Giles, her cheeks aflame almost to the tint of her fiery tresses. "I really did," declared Bess. "I would not have spoiled your hamper for anything." "And your lunch was in it?" gasped Belle. "We're awfully sorry!" Bent and crippled enameled dishes from the lately fine and completely equipped auto-hamper were scattered about in all directions. Here and there a piece of pie could be identified, while the chicken sandwiches were mostly recognizable by the fact that a newly arrived yellow dog persistently gnawed at one or two particular mud spots. "Oh, we can go to a hotel for dinner," announced the young man, getting back into his car. "But they ought to pay for the hamper," grumbled Ida, loud enough for the Robinson girls to make sure of her remark. "We will, of course," called Bess, just as Cora and Hazel came up, and then the Wilcox runabout darted off again. "Table d'hote?" called Cora, laughing. "No, a la carte," replied Bess, picking up a piece of damaged celery, putting it on a slice of uninjured bread and proffering it to Hazel. "What a shame!" sighed Hazel. "Their picnic will be spoiled."