"You and Helen can remain at the car--"

"Not me!" cried Helen Cameron. "I do not wish to be in the picture
again, but I want to see it made."

After they arrived at the special car, where a piping hot supper was
ready for them, the girls forgot the shock of their adventure. Jennie,
however, groaned whenever she moved.

"'Tis too bad that fat girl got so bunged up," observed one of the
punchers to Helen Cameron. "I see she's a-sufferin'."

"Miss Stone's avoirdupois is forever making her trouble," laughed Helen,
rather wickedly.

"Huh?" demanded the man. "Alfy Dupoy? Who's that? Her feller?"

"Oh, dear me, no!" gasped Helen. "_His_ name is Henri Marchand. I shall
have to tell her that."

"Needn't mind," returned the man. "I can't be blamed for
misunderstanding half what you Easterners say. You got me locoed right
from the start."

The joke had to be told when the three friends retired that night, and
it was perhaps fortunate that Jennie Stone possessed an equable
disposition.

"I am the butt of everybody's joke," she said, complacently. "That is
what makes me so popular. You see, you skinny girls are scarcely