Clip was looking over her runabout. It was not damaged, it
seemed, and for this she was most grateful. Clip was not out for
pleasure - you have guessed that - and it would have been highly
inconvenient for that young lady to go back to town in the hay.

Jack left off at the ram's horn, and came to crank up for her.

"All right, Clip?" he asked with evident concern. "I don't want
you to go over that lonely road if you do not feel just like it.
I can go with you."

"You!" she exclaimed. "Why, Jack Kimball, what are you thinking
about?" and she laughed airily. "If you want to finish the
impression we started the other day, just take another ride with
me. No, Jack, my dear boy, I am very much all right, and very
much obliged. But I must hurry off. Whatever will my little
brown Wren think of me?" She stepped into the car. "Good-by,
girls," she called. "I am so sorry I delayed you, but so glad we
met. Take care of the ram, boys, and am I eligible for the
trophy? I am a motor girl, you know."

"Of course you are," said Jack, before the others could speak.
"All motor girls are eligible."

"Ida Giles, too?" asked Bess. The moment she had spoken she could
have bitten her tongue. Why could she never hide her feelings
about Jack and Clip?

"And, girls," called Cecilia, who was starting now, "don't forget