"Hurrah for Aunt Sally!" cried the boys, "she's as militant as a newly
blossomed suffragette. Cheer up, Wren, you're all right now."
"Then I'm to stay with you?" questioned the child.
"Of course," came from Aunt Sally.
The child buried her head on the kind-hearted lady's lap and burst into
a passion of weeping that fairly shook her frail frame.
It was at this juncture that Jake set up a shout and pointed toward the
woods. From them a group of men had burst, armed with sticks and stones.
They came rushing straight at the little group, uttering ferocious
shouts.
"We're in for it now," exclaimed Roy; "girls, you had better get in the
machine and drive a safe distance. Those fellows mean mischief."
CHAPTER IV.
APPROACH OF THE STORM.
It was apparent enough that mean mischief they did. Their dark eyes
gleamed fiercely out of their swarthy faces. One or two wore a vivid red
or blue handkerchief knotted about sinewy necks, this means of adornment
only adding to their generally sinister look.
"I knew we wouldn't get far without running into trouble," moaned Jake
dejectedly.
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