"He probably didn't know we were following him," said Sahwah, shrewdly.

But the whole conduct of the Frog since the beginning was such a puzzle
that we could make neither head nor tail out of it, so we gave it up
and turned our attention to the scenery. Behind us a motorcycle was
chugging along with a noise all out of proportion to the size of the
vehicle, and we amused ourselves by wondering what would happen if it
should try to pass us on the narrow road, with a sharp drop into a
small lake on one side and a swamp on the other. But the rider
evidently had more caution than we generally credit to motorcyclists
and made no attempt to pass us, so we were not treated to the spectacle
of a man and a motorcycle turning a somersault into the lake or
sprawling in the marsh.

We certainly were ready for our long delayed breakfast when we finally
got to Rochester, after giving the Glow-worm into the hands of the
doctor once more. The poor Glow-worm! She never had such a strenuous
trip before or after. The man on the motorcycle came into the repair
shop while we were there to have something done to his engine, and he
listened with interest while we were telling the repair man how we had
run into the limousine in the fog. He looked at Margery curiously and I
wonder if he noticed that her suit did not fit her by several inches.
But Nyoda says men are not very observant about such things.

He was a good-looking, light-haired young man, and he stared at us with
a frank interest that could not be called impertinent. I believe there
is a sort of freemasonry between motor tourists, especially when they
are having motor troubles, that makes it seem perfectly all right to
talk to strangers. When the young man asked where we were from and
where we were going we answered politely that we were on our way to