With Jack's and Walter's additional cars the girls were able to ride home without crowding, so that the Whirlwind carried only Cora, Clip and Gertrude--the gallantry of the Chelton young men affording Tillie and Adele a chance for a most jolly trip in the little runabouts, while Hazel rode with the twins. Cora explained that she had an errand to do on the river road, so that she might go to the antique shop without the others. "I think it will be best to have a chance to talk with the old man quietly," she told her companions. "I am so anxious to find out whether or not he really had Wren's table, or knows anything about it." But scarcely had she turned into the narrow street than the surprising sight of Rob Roland's car dashed before her eyes. In it were Rob Roland and Sid Wilcox. Seeing the festooning of the Whirlwind, the driver of the smaller car slackened up, then, seeing further who the occupants of the floral car were, Rob Roland drew up to speak to Cora. "He has just come from the antique shop," whispered Clip, "and I am afraid we are too late, Cora." But Cora spoke cheerily to the young men, exchanging pleasantries about the auto show, and remarking that they should have been in Breakwater to see it. "Oh, we have had our own show this morning," said Rob triumphantly. "I guess the motor girls are not such expert detectives as they have thought themselves to be." This seemed to be aimed directly at Clip. She only laughed merrily, however, as the Whirlwind shot out of reach of the young man's voice. "What do you suppose he meant?" she asked Cora. "We will soon know," replied the other. "It is about the table, of course." They pulled up to the narrow sidewalk. Cora was not slow in leaving her car. Clip was with her on the walk directly. As they pulled off, their gloves they stopped for a moment in front of the dingy window. Cora drew back. "Look!" she exclaimed. "There is Wren's promise book." "For sale here!" gasped Clip. "I--hope so--" faltered Cora quickening her steps into the shop. The little bewhiskered man was rubbing his wrinkled hands in apparent satisfaction. He was in no hurry to wait on his customers. "What is that album I see in the window?" asked Cora. "Some foreign postcard book?" "Oh, that! No, that is not foreign. It is a sacred relic of some child saint." "For sale?" asked Cora, her voice a-tremble. "Oh, no! No! No!" and the man shook his head gravely. "I always keep relics--for curiosities." "Might I look at it?" pressed the motor girl, while Clip picked up something with pretended interest. "Oh, yes, of course. But it is only filled with names, and I got it in a deal with another sale. The party who brought it here," went on the curio dealer, "the same who bought the table gave me the book in the bargain, with the understanding that I should not sell it but keep it on exhibition. They were very particular about me not selling it."