"There's only one thing to do," replied Betty, trying to hide the tremor
in her voice. "We'll have to get her to the hospital, and in a hurry."

"But Grace and Amy!" gasped Mollie. "We can't go without them."

"We can at least get her into the car," Betty said, indicating the limp
little figure in the roadway. "You take her feet, Mollie, and I'll take
her head. We haven't spent all our lives outdoors for nothing."

Between them they succeeded in carrying their burden to the car and
settled her gently in the tonneau.

"Oh, if Grace and Amy would only come!" Mollie was crying distractedly
when the girls themselves burst through the underbrush, crying
despairingly that they had not been able to find water, that there was not
a house anywhere for miles around.

But Betty cut their lamentations short and hurried them into the car.

"But where do I come in?" gasped Grace, as Betty dropped into the back
seat beside the little old woman and took the poor unconscious head in her
arms.

"Oh, anywhere," answered Betty indifferently, her mind on one object only.
"On the floor or on the roof or anywhere, only hurry. Now, Mollie dear,
drive as you never drove before."

Mollie obediently threw in the clutch, and the heavy car shot forward,
throwing Grace to a seat on the floor where she fell with more haste than
dignity.