"Goodness, that's just the usual thing," Betty explained, looking
prettier, so Allen thought, than ever before with the background of lacy
green to set off her bright coloring. "If they don't behave like that we
know they're sick or something. Do have another biscuit, Roy. Goodness,"
and she stared round-eyed down into the empty space where the biscuits
had been, "they're every one gone! Who did eat them all?"

"Well, you needn't look at me," said Frank in an aggrieved tone. "Will's
the fellow you've got to watch."

Will was about to utter some scathing retort when Grace, who had gotten up
to shake the crumbs from her dress and had walked down toward the road,
suddenly called to them. It was such an excited, urgent call that they
left everything and came running.

"What--" began Betty.

"It was the motorcyclist!" cried Grace, her face flaming. "I couldn't have
been mistaken, because I caught a good view of his face."

"But what was he doing back here?" demanded Amy, while the rest stared at
Grace excitedly. "That's only a rutty old wagon road, and--"

"Well, he was bumping and bouncing like everything, and when he caught
sight of me he sent his machine ahead so fast I thought surely he'd have a
smash-up."

"Wish he had," said gentle Amy, and at the unusually vindictive expression
on her face the others had to laugh.