Dolly. "Come on! We started for the road. Let's go down and sit on the
fence and watch the people go by."

So they made their way on through the field until they came to the road,
and there they sat on the fence, enjoying some apples that Bessie had
pronounced eatable, after several attempts by Dolly to consume some from
half a dozen trees that would have caused her a good deal of pain later.
Two or three automobiles passed as they sat there, and Dolly looked at
their occupants enviously.

"If we had a car, Bessie," she said, "we could get to some place where
they sell ice-cream soda in no time, and be back in plenty of time for
lunch, too. I wish some friend of mine would come along in one of those
motors!"

None did, but, vastly to Bessie's surprise, they had not been there
long before a big green touring car that had shot by them a few minutes
before so fast that they could not see its occupants at all, came back,
doubling on its course, and stopped in the road just before them. And on
the driver's seat, discarding his goggles so that Bessie could recognize
him, was Mr. Holmes--the man who had taken her and Miss Mercer for a
ride, and whom she felt she had so much reason to distrust!

"This is good fortune! I'm very glad indeed to see you," he said,
cordially, to Bessie. "Miss King, is it not--Miss Bessie King, Miss
Mercer's friend? Won't you introduce me to the other young lady!"