In that terrible moment Hazel Holland came nearer to fainting than ever
before in her life. She pulled herself sharply together. Margery was by
this time sobbing hysterically.

"Don't do that," commanded Hazel sharply, "We must do something. Come
quickly!"

Hazel started down the hillside in the trail followed by Tommy during her
break-neck sprint to meet Miss Elting. The latter was already running
toward the scene of the accident. Hazel recalled afterwards having
wondered at the time that a woman could run so fast. Miss Elting's feet
seemed barely to touch the ground. Margery, mustering her courage,
staggered to her feet and followed Hazel at a slower pace, though she,
too, was running.

Hazel was the first to reach the place where Grace had been hurled from
the highway by the car.

"Grace!" she screamed, clambering awkwardly over the fence, dropping down
on the road side. "Oh, Grace, are you killed?"

A pale-faced girl was sitting at the bottom of the dry ditch with both
feet tucked under her. There was a bewildered look on her small face. She
was blinking dazedly.

"Oh, dearie, are you injured?" cried Miss Elting, slipping and sliding
down into the ditch beside the pale-faced Tommy.

"Yeth."