"Goodness, isn't she complimentary?" flung back Mollie, laughing. "You can
compare yourself to a four-footed dog, Grace, but please leave me out of
it."

"Did you ever hear of a two-footed dog?" Grace retorted.

"To change the subject," Betty interposed hastily, seeking to avoid a
storm. "Don't you think it's almost time to be turning back? We've gone
farther than--Oh, Mollie! Girls! Look!"

They had rounded a curve in the road at their usual breakneck speed, and
Mollie stopped the car with a jolt that very nearly sent its occupants
flying into the roadway.

Before them, not twenty yards away, a little figure in black lay huddled
in the road while the motorcyclist who had caused the accident, sped by
the girls, exhaust open and head lowered.

Dazedly they gazed after machine and rider for a minute till they
disappeared round a turn in the road. Then, with a cry of dismay, Betty
tumbled out of the car, followed by the other girls.

The prostrate figure in the road lay very, very still.




CHAPTER II