you are."

But the Lockwood twins looked at each other quickly and that
understanding glance made the girl who had played the heroine say:

"It doesn't matter which one of us did it, Jess. We'll divide the heroic
act between us. But let's see what's the matter with this poor man; he's
fainted, I believe."

CHAPTER X

BAKED IN A BISCUIT

There wasn't a house in sight; but not far beyond was the inn at
Robinson's Woods, the picnic grounds, and Lance took the management of
the big car while the unconscious chauffeur was rushed ahead by Chet in
the Belding car. The man was put to bed at the inn and a physician sent
for; but Lance agreed to drive the big car himself on to the Sitz place.

When the larger car reached the inn, however, another discovery was
made. Even while the auto had followed its erratic course, untended,
part way down the hill, Purt Sweet had sat tight and merely squealed. He
had not offered to leave his seat.

But now, by the merest chance, he happened to look down at his waist.
The greater part of that beautiful crimson sash had disappeared!

"Wha--wha--what's the matter with me?" gasped Purt. "I--I've lost it!
Who's taken it?"

He bobbed up suddenly and broke the strand that had been, all this time,
winding around and around the wheelbox until there was now a big roll of
it.

"What's the matter with you, Purt?" demanded one of the boys, bursting
with laughter.

"Why--why--somebody's stolen my sash!" wailed the youth. "Did you see
it? Isn't that a mean trick, now?"

The shout that went up from the girls and boys who had been watching the
unraveling process brought the crowd from the first automobile back,
too. Poor Purt looked ruefully at his lost sash, wound around the wheel,
and bemoaned his bad fortune most feelingly. But Lance cut off the ball
of red worsted and threw it in the gutter.

"I really wish you wouldn't be so careless, Purt," he said, as though
the victim were at fault. "Mussing up the whole machine with your fancy
fixin's. Don't you do that any more."

"But, my dear boy, I had no idea of doing it--weally!" exclaimed the
unfortunate Purt. "I don't for the life of me see how that could have
become attached to that wheel."

And as nobody explained the mystery to him, he was in low spirits all
the rest of the way to the farmhouse.

But the preparations at the Sitz farm were likely to raise the spirits
of any boy or girl. In the first place the farmhouse was a very