"As the vulgar herd would say," again murmured Mollie.

"Exactly--as the vulgar herd would say," agreed Betty, dimpling adorably,
"--until we have a chance to collect the scattered sweets."

"You win," Mollie capitulated, speaking in a tone reserved for the "Little
Captain." "Only please make Grace hurry or the afternoon will be over
before she begins."

"Goodness, listen to it--" Grace was beginning, straightening indignantly
from her stooping posture and preparing once more to enter the fray. "When
it's all her fault, anyway--" But Betty upset both speech and dignity by
unceremoniously pulling her down again.

"Come on! Hurry, Gracie!" she commanded. "And don't overlook any, because
there's nothing so messy as a chocolate--"

"As if there were any chance of Grace's overlooking a chocolate!" scoffed
Mollie. "Why, all she has to do is whistle to 'em and they come rolling up
obediently."

"Goodness, who'd want them anyway, after they've rolled around and picked
up all the dust and millions of germs from the bottom of the car?"
grumbled Grace, cross at having to exert herself to even so small an
extent. Grace, as my old readers doubtless remember, had been born with an
ease-loving disposition that not even close association with the other
Outdoor Girls had served to change. Perhaps, as Mollie had once remarked,
that was why the girls were so fond of her--because she was "so
different."