into one of her chum's twin beds. "Good-night!
Sweet dreams! And if you have a nightmare don't expect me to get up
and tie it to the bed-post."

The next morning Chapman brought around the car as early as half past
eight, when the girls were just finishing breakfast.

"Don't eat any more, Amy," begged Jessie. "Do get up for once from
the table feeling that you could eat more. The doctors say that is the
proper way."

"Pooh! What do the doctors know about eating?" scoffed Amy. "Their job
is to tend to you when you can't eat. Why? honey! I feel lots better
morally with a full stomach than when I am hungry."

They climbed into the car and Chapman drove out the boulevard and
turned into the Parkville road. It was a lovely morning, not too hot
and with only a wind made by their passage, so that the dust only
drifted behind the car. They passed the home of Mr. and Mrs. Brandon's
daughter and saw the aerials strung between the house and the flagpole
on the garage.

"Keep your eyes open for aerials anywhere, Amy," said Jessie. "Of
course wherever that broadcasting station is, the aerials must be
observable."

"They'll be longer and more important than the antenna for the usual
receiving set, won't they?" eagerly asked Amy.

"Of course." Then Jessie leaned forward to speak to Chapman, for they
were in the open car. "When you approach the stock farm you spoke of,
please drive slowly. We want to look over all the surroundings."

"Very well, Miss Jessie," the chauffeur said.

Passing through Parkville, they struck a road called a turnpike,
although there were no ticket-houses, as there are at the ferries. It
was an old highway sweeping between great farms, and the country was
rolling, partly wooded, and not so far off the railroad line that the
latter did not touch the race-track Chapman had spoken of.

The car skirted the high fence of the Harrimay enclosure and then they
ran past a long string of barns in which the racing horses were housed
and trained for a part of the year. There was no meet here at this
time, and consequently few horses were in evidence.

"I like to see horses race," remarked Amy. "And they are such lovely,
intelligent looking creatures. But so many people who have anything to
do with horses and racing are such hard-faced people and so--so
impossible! Think of the looks of that Martha Poole. She's the limit,
Jessie."

"Neither she nor Mrs. Bothwell is nice, I admit. But don't blame it on
the p