"He was probably the most surprised crook ever," commenced Grace with a
chuckle. "He never will get over cursing you, Betty. How did you ever
happen to have it? The pepper gun, I mean," she added curiously.

Betty explained how the gun had come into her possession. "I didn't know,"
she added ruefully, her foot on the accelerator as they sped up a steep
hill, "when I bought it, that it would come in so handy. How much further
do you suppose we have to go?" she asked, changing the subject abruptly.

"Why," said Grace, looking at her wrist watch and realizing suddenly that
she was getting rather hungry, "we have been riding since ten o'clock and
it is now after noon. We must be very nearly there by this time. Goodness,
I hope there will be something to eat around Wild Rose Lodge. I'm getting
famished."

"Mollie's Uncle John said he would attend to that--stocking the cabin with
good things, I mean," said Betty, herself suddenly conscious of a
disturbingly hungry feeling. "He said we would find enough canned things
to last us at least a week."

"Canned things, yes," pouted Grace. "But who in the world wants to live on
canned things? I don't see why we didn't bring a chicken along, at least."

"Well, maybe we can manage to run over one," chuckled Betty, as they
passed a farmhouse and several chickens scuttled squawking across the
road. "Then we can have one good and fresh. For goodness' sake, what is
Mollie tooting that horn for?" she added, as the raucous signal came from
the car behind them, "Has she stopped the car, Grace? Look and see."

"It's stopped deader than a door nail," said Grace, obligingly screwing