So delighted were the amateur collectors with the result of their first search for antiques, that they planned another trip a few days later. Carl could not drive the car for them, as Mr. Dalken had invited a number of business friends who were in New York for a few days to go out on Long Island with him, for the day. He took the seven-passenger car and Carl for the drive, so the girls had to be contented with the smaller car. But neither Mr. Dalken nor Carl knew that the girls proposed going alone. They believed Mr. Fabian or Mr. Ashby’s chauffeur would drive the car.

Eleanor bragged about her ability to drive an automobile and the girls knew from experience how well Dodo could drive, so the outing was planned without any grown-up being consulted about the driving or chaperoning.

“Did not Carl have a road-map in the side-pocket of the car, the day he drove us to Stamford?” asked Polly.

“Yes, but the car is in the garage, and the map with it,” returned Eleanor.

“Daddy has a road-map. I’ll get his,” remarked Ruth Ashby, who had been invited to be one of the party this trip.

“Then bring it around tonight, Ruth, when you come to plan about the route we ought to choose for this outing,” said Polly.

Ruth hurried home and immediately after dinner, that evening, she found the map in the library desk-drawer and tucked it in her pocket. As she ran through the front hall she called to her mother:

“I’m going over to the Fabians for a little talk, Mummy.”

“But, Ruth, you just came from there a few moments before dinner,” came from Mrs. Ashby.

“Oh, I didn’t visit that time! I only stopped in with the girls to wait and see if Nancy had a map they all need. Now I’m going to visit,” explained Ruth.

Mrs. Ashby laughed at a girl’s interpretations of a call and Ruth ran out.

Their pretty heads were closely bending over the map, when Mr. Fabian passed the living-room door and stopped a moment to consider the picture they made under the soft-shaded light. He went on to his private den without saying a word to distract their attention from (as he thought) their books of learning.

“Now listen here, girls!” exclaimed Nancy, tracing a line on the map. “Polly doesn’t know much about this end of the United States, and Eleanor doesn’t know much more than Polly does but I am supposed to be well informed about Westchester County, having lived there when I was a little girl. So I can tell you something about this road I’ve traced.”

The four girls lifted their heads and listened eagerly.

“You know Dobb’s Ferry and its vicinity was there in the days of the Revolution, and Washington camped at that town. Even the Headquarters he occupied is to be seen as it was at that time. This road, running easterly from Dobb’s Ferry, is the old turnpike road used by the army as it marched towards the Hudson.

“Now this is what I say! Why shouldn’t there be lots of old houses along that road, or in that locality, that were there during Washington’s time? And if standing still, why shouldn’t there be old furniture, or odd bits, to be found in them?”

Eleanor instantly caught Nancy up on one of her phrases. “Naturally the houses would be standing still—you wouldn’t want them to be dancing a tango, would you?”

“Oh, pshaw, Nolla!” scorned Nancy, in disgust at such a poor attempt to joke, “you know, well enough, what I mean.”

The other girls laughed at Nancy, and Polly added: “Well, what is your plan?”

“I say, let’s drive along the River Road as far as Dobb’s Ferry, and then turn off to this road and venture on any country road we find, that has old-fashioned houses which look as if they were built in 1776.”

“That sounds thrilling!” laughed Eleanor.

Her companions refused to smile this time, so she sat grinning at Nancy, as if waiting to attack her again.

“I think that plan will answer as well as anything Nolla has proposed, don’t you?” asked Nancy.

“Yes, we’ll try your scheme out, Nan. But you’ll have to be the guide through the country, as we haven’t the least idea of the lay of the land,” said Dodo.

“We’ll succeed splendidly, as long as we have this map,” promised Nancy.

The girls pictured many rare treasures added to their collection after this proposed trip, and when it was time for Ruth to go home, each girl had chosen rare and wonderful objects to be found in these imaginary Colonial home-steads they expected to visit on the morrow.

Classes had to be attended to before excursions could be enjoyed and then it was lunch-time; but after that they finally started on this trip.

Mrs. Fabian was out with Mrs. Ashby, so the girls met no one who would question them, when they were ready to leave. Ruth and Dodo called at the Fabians and they all went to the large garage where Mr. Dalken kept his automobiles; and the man, having had instructions to give the car to these young friends of the owner, whenever they wanted it, said nothing but backed the car out to the street for them.

The five girls drove away in high spirits, for they were eager to harvest all the marvelous antiques they had ever read or heard of, that might be scattered throughout the country-sides wherever General Washington had made a camp for his army.

Dodo was an excellent driver but she had no New York license, and the girls had forgotten all about that necessity. So the car was speeding along the boulevarde at about twenty-five miles an hour, when a traffic policeman in Yonkers held up his hand to stop the northward-bound travelers.

Dodo had just turned her head momentarily to send a quizzical look at Polly who sat in the back seat, and so failed to see the raised hand. The car therefore ran across the street and at the same time, a low-built racer shot along the right of way and the two noses rammed each other, although both drivers used the emergency brakes.

The girls screamed with fright at the unexpected shock and the dreadful jolt they received when the cars collided. And two young college students cursed politely and scowled fearfully at the “crazy girl-drivers” who never knew which way they were going. But the poor cars suffered the most from this conflict. Headlights were smashed, fenders and mud guards were so dented in as to look pitiful, while the front wheels of both cars were interlocked in such a way that they could not be separated.

This cause held up all traffic on both streets and annoyed the officer so that he threatened a wholesale arrest. He asked the names of both drivers. The young man gave his as “John Baxter, New York.” His license number was taken, and he was asked for his permit. He showed it without hesitation, and the girls gazed at each other in dismay. They had forgotten about such a need!

The officer came over to Dodo’s side.

“What’s your name?”

“Dodo Alexander,” stammered she, forgetting her full name.

“Humph! Baptized that name?”

“Yes—no, oh NO. I never was baptized, I reckon.”

“Humph—a heathen, I see!” snarled the policeman. “Well, where do you live, or where’d you hail from?”

Eleanor had been grinning at the officer’s reply, and now she could not withstand the temptation to answer: “From the Cannibal Isles.”

The crowd standing about the two cars, laughed—all but the policeman. He scowled at Eleanor and said: “Be careful, young lady, or I’ll take you along for contempt of court.”

“But you are not arresting me, and this is not Court,” argued Eleanor.

“Oh, goodness me! Is he going to arrest me?” cried Dodo.

“If you don’t answer my questions promptly, I’ll arrest you,” returned the officer, severely.

“Well, I am from Denver, Colorado, where folks don’t fuss like you do in the East, just because you cross a street to get to the other side!” declared Dodo, in self-justification.

“From Denver! Got a New York license to drive?” said he.

“No, I haven’t, but I’ve driven all over England and the Continent this Summer—as these girls will tell you. They were in the party.”

“It’s nothing to me whether you drove up the Matterhorn and down the other side; as long as you can’t show me a plain old American license, you’ll have to pay the costs.”

“How much is it?” quickly asked Dodo, taking her purse out to settle the bill.

“I don’t know. You’d better follow me to the police station and we’ll see.”

Dodo was handed a little paper which she read aloud to her horrified companions, and thus, finding themselves arrested, they meekly tried to follow the blue-jacket. But the cars had not been disentangled, although both boys from the racer were doing their utmost to clear the way.

As the storm raised in the hearts of the two students by the carelessness of Dodo abated, both boys realized how pretty and helpless the five girls were, so they began to feel sorry for them. Besides this, the front wheels were now divorced and the two cars backed away from each other to give room for the congested traffic to pass.

“Dear me,” wailed Dodo, “what will Mr. Dalken say when he hears about his car! I don’t mind going to jail or being made to pay a hundred dollars fine, but to break up his automobile the first time I drove it, and get his license tag into trouble—that is terrible!”

Polly laughed. “Not Dalken’s license tag, but his name—in the papers. That’s what comes of being so well-known in New York.”

“And the newspaper men will be sure to say that a party of joy-riders stole his car to have a little jaunt in the country, I suppose,” added Eleanor, teasingly.

One of the good-looking young students now came over to the girls and lifted his cap. “Did I understand you to say this is Mr. Dalken’s car?”

Five girls glowered at him. Polly snapped out: “Are you a reporter from a city paper?”

John Baxter laughed. “No, I am his protegÉ. Mr. Dalken is the executor of my father’s estate and I was just on my way to the city, to visit him, this evening.”

“Oh how nice! We know Mr. Dalken very well, too. He is one of our best friends,” returned Polly, eagerly.

Nancy Fabian would have been more reticent had she been spokeswoman for the girls; but both boys were so pleasant, now, that they were introducing themselves to the girls, hence she said nothing.

“We’ll go with you to the station house and see that the sergeant behaves himself,” suggested John.

The girls felt very grateful to this needed friend, and the boys started their car after the policeman, the girls following in their damaged car that bumped and jolted on one side.

When the inspector learned that not one of the five girls had a license to drive a car in New York State, and that the car belonged to someone else, he fined Dodo and gave her a good scolding to boot.

“This time I’ll let you off easy, as you are green in the East. But don’t let it happen again, or you’ll be sorry. Apply for a permit to drive, as soon as you get home, young lady, and then get a book of rules on traffic, and learn it by heart.”

Dodo meekly paid the fine, and the young people left the room with lighter hearts than they had entered it. Both cars had to be taken to a garage and put into running shape again. Meantime there would be two hours of waiting on their hands, and seven young folks with impatient blood in their veins to kill that time.

“I’m sorry you ladies have been deprived of your pleasure drive, but I might suggest a little consolation if you ever deign to go to the Movies,” said John Baxter, politely.

“There’s a good show up the street in that large Picture Theatre,” added his friend Andrews.

“We love movies—when they are good,” ventured Eleanor.

“What do you think, Nan? Shall we go?” asked Polly.

“Oh yes! it will be awful—waiting about this place with nowhere to go other than the Movies, as you say,” returned Nancy.

So the two young men escorted the five girls to the show where they forgot their recent troubles in watching Harold Lloyd do his best to break his neck.

Dodo paid the bill at the garage for both cars, even though the boys insisted that they pay for their own damages. But she replied: “No, the insurance company will have to settle eventually.”

The good-natured way in which Dodo accepted the situation more than convinced the boys that these girls were “bricks” all right! It was now past five, and the cars were ready to go again, but the “collectors” found they had to go back to the city for that time, without having seen as much as a shadow of an antique.

“What will you girls do about getting home?” asked Andrews.

“Why, drive, of course!” returned Dodo.

“But you can’t—you haven’t a license. Neither has any one of the other girls,” explained Jack.

“Oh, we never thought of that!” exclaimed Polly, perplexed.

“I have one,” suggested Andrews. “I can get in your car, and one of you girls can drive with Baxter, if you will. That will solve the problem.”

“All right,” assented Dodo, getting out of her seat to allow Andrews to get in.

“Which one wants to drive with Jack?” asked Andrews.

Neither girl answered, and not as much as by a tremor of the eye-lid did either show how delighted she would have been to sit beside the handsome young man and skim along the road to New York.

Baxter laughed heartily, and Andrews added: “I never dreamed that no one would care to drive with him. I’m sorry, Jack, but you’ll have to go alone.”

“Not if I know it!” retorted Baxter, quickly. “I can’t choose when all are so desirable, but we can cast lots to see who will be my companion.”

The girls thought this most exciting, and when Andrews had shown the slip of paper that would be the lucky draw, and then had folded and shaken the slips well in his cap, the girls drew. As each girl opened her scrap of paper to find it was blank, and then watched the others try, there was great laughter and anxious waiting. Finally Polly opened her slip and found she had drawn the lucky one.

“Ha! Isn’t Jack Baxter lucky, though!” laughed Eleanor. “Not only gets the cleverest girl in the crowd, but the prettiest one, too!”

“Stop your nonsense, Nolla! How many times do I have to tell you to allow me to live in peace, without so much of your chaffing!” exclaimed Polly, impatiently.

Everyone laughed merrily at Polly’s retort, and Baxter looked admiringly at the flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. He was most gallant in assisting Polly into the “boat” as he called it, and then he jumped in beside her.

Eleanor sat beside Andrews in the other car, and entertained him with a highly colored story of Polly and her home in Pebbly Pit. Before they reached the Fabian home in New York, young Andrews pictured the enormous wealth of “Choko’s Find” gold mine, and the marvellous beauty of the lava jewels found in Rainbow Cliffs on the ranch. To think that one girl should be lucky enough to own both such money-producers!

Shortly after dinner that evening, Mr. Dalken telephoned the girls and told them to come over to his apartment for a party. He explained that he had two nice little boys visiting him, and he was at a loss to know how to entertain them so that they would care to come again, another day. Remembering how well Polly and her friends managed other boys, he felt sure that they could help him now.

Polly laughed in reply, and said: “Oh yes! If one of those boys now visiting you, is anything like Jack Baxter who drove me home, this afternoon, we won’t have any trouble in amusing them.”

But Polly never told Mr. Dalken that Jack declared himself so deeply in love with her, before she had been in his car ten minutes, that she had all she could do to keep him at the wheel instead of placing an arm about her, and thus stalling the engine in the ditch alongside the main road to the city.

That evening, after the girls returned from Mr. Dalken’s party, Eleanor remarked: “My goodness! Polly has another scalp to hang to her belt of trophies. If she keeps on piercing hearts, as she has done this past year, she’ll have to discard some of her old scalps and loan them to us, to make room for her new ones.”

But Polly sniffed loftily at such foolishness, and made no reply.