No sooner had the two cars sped away from the peaceful shadows of Mt.  Vernon, than Peter began to play Prince Charming to Harriet.

Charlie Meyers did not know what to do.  He was a stupid fellow, who expected his money to carry him through everything.  He would hardly listen to Barbara’s conversation or take the slightest interest in anything she tried to say.

Every time Harriet’s gay laugh rang out from the next seat Charlie Meyers would drive his car faster than ever, until it fairly bounded over the rough places in the road.

Several times Mrs. Wilson remonstrated with him.  “You are going too fast, Mr. Meyers.  It is dark, and I am afraid we shall have an accident if you are not more careful.  Please go slower.”

For an instant, Mr. Meyers would obey Mrs. Wilson’s request to lessen the speed of his car.  Then he would dash ahead as though the very furies were after him.

As for Ruth, she had to follow the automobile in front in order to find her way, so it was necessary for her to run her car at the same high speed.  Neither Ruth nor her companions knew the pitfalls along the road.  Hugh did not keep his automobile in Washington, and, though he had a general idea of the direction they should take, he had never driven along the particular course selected by Mr. Meyers for their return trip.

Ruth felt her face flush with temper as her car shook and plunged along the road.  In order to keep within a reasonable distance of the heavier car, she had to put on full power and forge blindly ahead.

Once or twice Ruth called out:  “Won’t you go a little slower in front, please?  I can’t find my way along this road at such a swift pace.”

But Ruth’s voice floated back on the winds and the leading car paid no heed to her.

Then Elmer and Hugh took up the refrain, shouting with all their lung power.  They merely wasted their breath.  Charlie Meyers either did not hear them or pretended not to do so.  He never once turned his head, or asked if those back of him were making a safe journey.

Barbara was furious.  She fully realized Ruth’s predicament, although she was not in her chum’s car.  “Please don’t get out of sight of Ruth’s car, Mr. Meyers,” Bab urged her companion.  But he paid not the slightest attention to her request.

Bab looked anxiously back over the road.  Now and then she could see Mr. A. Bubble’s lamps; more often Ruth’s car was out of sight.  Patience was not Barbara’s strong point.

“Harriet,” she protested, “Won’t you ask Mr. Meyers to slow down so that Ruth can follow him.  He will not pay the least attention to me.”

“What is your hurry, Charlie!” asked Harriet, in a most provoking tone.  She knew the young fellow was not a gentleman, and that he was showing his anger against her by making them all uncomfortable.  But Harriet was in a wicked humor herself, and she would not try to appease their cross host.  She was having an extremely pleasant time with Peter Dillon, and really did not realize Ruth’s difficulties.