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Outdoor Girls at the Hostess House

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<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> <h3>PLANNING CAPTURE</h3> The spot they had chosen for the picnic was quite a distance away from Camp Liberty, and by the time the party finally reached it, both boys and girls were wondering if the generous contents of the hampers would serve even to take the edge off their appetites. "I don't see why we didn't take your car, Mollie," Grace complained, as they covered the last stretch of dusty road. "We would have been on the picnic grounds and had our lunch eaten by this time." "But just think what's in store for us," Betty reminded her cheerily. "We need a good appetite to eat up all this lunch." "Well, I don't know," Grace grumbled back. "It seems to me I had a good enough appetite for two lunches, each twice as big as this, when we started." "Heavens!" cried Frank Haley, who was walking in front with Mollie, "I see my chances of a square meal dwindling." "I'm beginning to agree with Grace," grinned Roy Anderson, "that we made a big mistake in not taking the car." "Oh, you're all just lazy," was Mollie's accusation. "We haven't been walking more than an hour and there's the spot, just around that turn in the road." "Say," and Will, who had not yet spoken, turned suddenly to Betty, "isn't this the road where the accident happened that introduced that nice little old woman—what's her name—" "Mrs. Sanderson," Betty supplied. "Yes, that's it. Isn't this about the place where you found her?" "Goodness, no," put in Amy. "It was on this road, but we were miles out of town." "Will, I'd love you all the rest of my life if you'd only find that motorcyclist and have him punished," said Betty fervently. "It makes me wild when I think how easily he got away from us—" "Never mind that," interrupted Will, his eyes twinkling. "All I want is to have you repeat the first part of your speech. What was that about loving me all the rest of my life?" "Say, what's the idea?" demanded Allen suddenly, having been engrossed in a little dream all his own. "What kind of rash promises are you asking Betty to make?" "Well, I would," contended Betty stoutly, adding with a twinkle: "Like a sister." "Oh," said Will, turning disappointedly away. "If that's all you have to offer me—" "But I've got lots more than that," Betty assured him quickly. "Why, Will, if you're real good, I may even give you an extra piece of cake." "Well, now, that's different again," cried Will, his interest rekindling. "Will," remonstrated Grace plaintively, "I'm surprised at you. You are really getting shockingly material." "Getting!" interjected Frank, with a grin. "Go on, Betty, never mind this vulgar rabble—with apologies to you, sweet sister," as Grace shot an indignant glance at him. "You were saying that if I found this motorcyclist you'd give me an extra piece of cake, or words to that effect. Am I right?" "Perfectly," laughed Betty, then added, seriously: "But, really, I think something ought to be done." "So do I," Amy backed her up stoutly. "We ought to let those old motorcyclists know they can't run over poor old ladies whenever they feel like it—" "Favorite outdoor sports," murmured Roy. "It was the most heartless thing I ever saw," said Mollie, entering into the discussion with a will. "He never even stopped to find out what damage had been done. He might have killed her—" "But what wouldst thee, sweet damsel?" asked Will patiently. "We can hardly go out on the broad highway and hold up every motorcyclist that comes along—" "Well, I know what you could do," said Grace, with unusual animation. "You could take one of us along to point out the suspicious characters." "Yes, we got a fine view of him," added Amy eagerly. "He had small eyes close together—" "Regular villain type," murmured Frank, but Amy refused to be side-tracked. "And goggles—" "They all have those," interrupted Roy. "And a tiny little mustache that looked as if it had got there by mistake." "Probably false," suggested Will. "One of the kind you stick on with molasses—like feathers—" "Oh, do be sensible," cried Mollie impatiently. "Of course you can't go holding him up at the point of a gun, but there ought to be something—" "Give us time, give us time," Allen interrupted. "Wasn't it Antony who had time and conquered, or something like that—" "Goodness, anybody'd know you'd been out of school a long time," drawled Grace scathingly. "Mark Antony, indeed!" "Well, it was one of those guys, anyway," maintained Allen, with admirable impartiality. "And you have to admit the sentiment was fine. All we ask is time—" "And a little grub," supplemented Will hungrily. "It seems to me I remember somebody saying a couple of hours ago that we were even then approaching our destination, and we seem to be getting no nearer rapidly—" "Oh, do try to be sensible," cried Mollie, for the second time. "If you would only have some patience—" "Never heard the word," declared Will with a grin, and Mollie made a face at him—a very disrespectful face. "Well, but when—" Will was insisting plaintively when Betty interrupted him with a cry of delight. "Look, people," she said, breaking away from them and running up the rather steep bank lightly. "This isn't the spot we picked out, but it's twice as pretty. Big rocks for tables—and everything." "Especially everything," commented Allen, his eyes twinkling. "Oh, boy!" cried Roy ecstatically, setting down the hamper that had been his share and beginning to examine its contents without further delay. "Chicken! Ham sandwiches! Biscuits! Jelly—" "Say, get out of that!" cried Frank, snatching the hamper away with a vigor born of fear. "What kind of manners do you call that?" "They're as good as yours," retorted the outraged Roy hotly. "Besides, there's another hamper, isn't there?" "Goodness, they seem to think they can have a whole basket apiece," cried Amy Blackford in dismay. "Well, I guess they've got another think coming," said Allen, inelegantly, placing himself with outstretched arms before the two precious hampers as though he were guarding a gold mine. "Now let him come who dares. Only over my dead body—" "Oh, what's the use of spoiling our perfectly good party," complained Grace. "Can't we ever begin to enjoy ourselves but what somebody starts taking all the joy out of life by talking about killing somebody, or something—" "Never mind, Gracie," Frank soothed her, nibbling a chicken bone with great relish. "You'll get over it. It may take time—" "Silence," commanded Mollie, raising a pickle fork threateningly. "Else in a twinkling I will split thee to the heart—" "Goodness, she's got it, too," sighed Grace drawlingly. "What?" asked Mollie briskly, "I'm always interested in my symptoms—" "It isn't a disease, you goose," drawled Grace. "Unless," she added, as a second thought, "you can call insanity a disease—" "Well, you ought to know," retorted Mollie, as she proceeded to use the pickle fork to advantage. "What does your doctor say?" "Now who's bringing war into the party, I'd like to know?" asked Will, helping himself to his ninth biscuit. "Goodness, that's just the usual thing," Betty explained, looking prettier, so Allen thought, than ever before with the background of lacy green to set off her bright coloring. "If they don't behave like that we know they're sick or something. Do have another biscuit, Roy. Goodness," and she stared round-eyed down into the empty space where the biscuits had been, "they're every one gone! Who did eat them all?" "Well, you needn't look at me," said Frank in an aggrieved tone. "Will's the fellow you've got to watch." Will was about to utter some scathing retort when Grace, who had gotten up to shake the crumbs from her dress and had walked down toward the road, suddenly called to them. It was such an excited, urgent call that they left everything and came running. "What—" began Betty. "It was the motorcyclist!" cried Grace, her face flaming. "I couldn't have been mistaken, because I caught a good view of his face." "But what was he doing back here?" demanded Amy, while the rest stared at Grace excitedly. "That's only a rutty old wagon road, and—" "Well, he was bumping and bouncing like everything, and when he caught sight of me he sent his machine ahead so fast I thought surely he'd have a smash-up." "Wish he had," said gentle Amy, and at the unusually vindictive expression on her face the others had to laugh. "Well, there's nothing more we can do now," said Frank practically. "Let's go back and finish our lunch. Probably," he added, as they thoughtfully retraced their steps, "he took the wagon road for fear of running into one of you girls." "Big coward!" cried Betty, with clenched hands. "I wish I had been with you, Grace, we might have stopped him." The boys shouted. "Such a chance!" crowed Roy, but Betty turned on them with flashing eyes. "Well, we might at least have tried," she cried hotly. "That is more than you boys would have done. You don't seem to be even interested," she continued indignantly. "If I were a man in uniform I'd show that coward that he can't knock old helpless women down and then run away. I'd show him that in insulting an old woman he was insulting the whole United States army—" "Hurrah!" cried Will irrepressibly, jumping to his feet. "Now you're talking, Betty. How about it, fellows? Shall we do as she says?" "You bet we will!" they cried, and at the ring in their voices, even Betty's ardent little heart was satisfied. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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