Then, when the mail car was lost sight of, and the motor girls
started again on their homeward way, Clip insisted upon leading.

"I know the variety of bandit," she declared, "and I want to meet
him personally. He is sure to fall dead in love with me on the
spot. And, oh, girls! Think of it! Me and the bandit!"

Even Hazel laughed. The suggestion called up a picture of the
disgraceful Clip in robber uniform, with the proverbial red
handkerchief on her head, and all the rest of the disreputable
accessories. Clip would "look the part."

But the Thayer machine was not noted for its beauty or service -
it had the reputation of bolting always at the "psychological
moment," and when Clip dashed forward to meet her fate, the fate
of the Turtle (as her car was called) intercepted her.

With a jerk the Turtle tossed up its head, bounced Clip off her
seat, and then stopped.

"Oh!" exclaimed the girl. "Isn't this the utmost! And I about to
meet my bandit! Now I suppose I will have to leave Turtle here to
afford the foe a means of escape. I say, girls, isn't that the
utmost?"

She jumped out of the car and, with a superficial glance at the
fractious machine, waited for Cora's car.

"Come on, Ray," she said to her companion. "No use sitting there.