Evening star., 1922-10-29

| he seldom paid any attention to the
| yellow direction arrows at the cor
ners, but. aside from getting Wig
crous calldown from a few traffic
cops and wandering through narrow
back streets. he had very little
trouble in coming out on the other
side and picking up the New York
trail again.
Somehow or other we struck
Bridgeport. getting in there just as
the 6 o'clock rush was on. being
shunted Off on construction detour,
| jigging back again by miracle, and
then Strengthening out for the home
stretch. We had made no lunch stop,
for Sairy had put up box of chicken
sandwiches and doughnuts and
cheese before we left, and we took
| that on the fly. But from Bridgeport
down there's no such thing as
making time on the Boston post road.
1t can't be done. Trucks! 1 can see
now why some railroads aren't pay
ing dividends any more, for most of
their freight traffic seems to be
hauled by motor trucks. Perhaps it's
maybe for the ultimate consumers,
but I'll say it's no help to automo-
bile touring.
IT'S an exciting game though,
i truck lodging. You'll be breez-
ing along fine until suddenly you
catch up with a long line of cars
crawling behind wide. noisy. heavy
laden trucks. If traffic Is coming the
other way too. as it usually is. you
simply have to watch sharp and take
your turn getting by. First one car
will see an opening, take squirt, and
dash by the truck. Perhaps two will
trickle past at once. Then the others
stay behind until there comes an
| other lull in the up traffic. and finally
you get your turn. It's generally
case of stepping hard on the pedal
and holding your breath as you Craze
past the huge groaning juggernaut
of trade. They don't care how little
room they give you. either, those
grimy truck drivers, or whether or
not you're taking a chance that the
oncoming cars will crowd over a
bit to let you make the pass. They
just bend grinning over the wheel
and go grinding on. And / don't be-
lieve, if 1 had to drive rolling boiler
shop like that, for perhaps ten or
twelve hours a day, that l should
worry lot whether the joy riders
got where they were going on time
| or not.
But Barry. after struggling past
one or two hundred of these trucks
was quite bitter toward the drivers.
blasted road hogs" he growled.
I'D like to buy the biggest steam
roller made, one that weighed about
twenty tons and was geared to go
| four miles an hour. Then I'd come
| out here and give those fresh birds
a taste Of their own medicine. I'd
block EN- on steep grades and sharp
corners, and make 'em stick behind
me until 1 had a line of 'em eight
miles long. Then I'd pull out and
| give 'em the laugh. Say, there ought
| to be law"
Never mind. Barry boy" says I.
Is
! truck may be as obsolete as the
horse car They're shipping cucum-
bers and celery by airplane now, I
hear, and next they'll be sending
pianos and brass fittings by aerial
express. What worries me just at
, present Is where and when we eat
next Don't you know it's after
! c'clock?"
| I'm near starved" chimes in Inez.
! So somewhere near Stamford Barry
consented to pull up at an inviting
roadhouse and we all piled out for
dinner. Stiff! Say, l felt as if all
my joints were ruSted, and it took
two Of US to pry Inez out of her seat.
Hungry as l was. though, when 1
| faced the mirror in the ladies' room
! 1 almost decided to go without food
rather than go down among people.
| l was as thickly powdered with road
dust as though I'd been on street
sweeping job all day. 1t had settled
| thick around my eyes and was in
| smears across my checks.
you look awful funny comments
IneZ.
"Oh, do u" says T. "Well, you're
no fresh-cut lily yourself, old dear.
Take a peek"
X x x *
DUT by tipping the maid to pro-
| ID duce some cold cream and with
plenty of hot water we scrubbed
most of it off and went down to
mingle with the gay throng in the
dining room. We had just given our
order when Inez nudged me, ex-
cited.
Next table behind" says she.
Look who's there"
! well, what do you know" says
I, after twisting my neck. Our
friends from Brooklyn"
Mrs. Geer had seen US, too, and
came waddling over.
why" says I, I'VE thought you'd
be homo long before this"
More tire trouble" she explains,
land then coming through Hartford
we wore out a fan belt, and between
there and New Haven we saw an auto
wreck that made Mr.. Geer so nervous
he wouldn't drive faster than fifteen
miles an hour. But how does it hap
pen that you are all here, Miss
Dodge?"
"Oh, Barry Platt always drives
like mad" says I. And then, we
had luck, 1 suppose
But thought you were going to
stay in New Hampshire until Thanks
| giving or later" she adds. why,