The Outdoor Girls at the Hostess House Part 20

And now, in order to send the boys away with the thought of bright faces and encouraging smiles to cheer them on their long, grim journey, the girls joked and laughed, carefully avoiding the subject that was uppermost in their minds.

"Oh, well, that's all a person can expect in this world," Grace had answered resignedly, in reply to Amy's thrust. "Just be kind and loving and thoughtful of other people's comfort, and you're sure to be sat upon--"

"Goodness, she doesn't think anything of herself, does she?" Mollie flung back over her shoulder. "Now see what you made me do!" the exclamation was fairly jerked from her as the car lurched into a deep rut at the side of the road, skidded for a minute, seemingly uncertain whether to fling them out on the bank or continue its way, then b.u.mped up on the road again and continued its flight.

"Oh, Mollie, do be--" Amy began, but a sudden grim straightening of Mollie's back warned her in time and with a gasp she choked back the forbidden word.

"Goodness, isn't she well trained?" laughed Betty, as Mollie bent once more over the wheel.

"Who wouldn't be," protested Amy plaintively, "if a cannibal should come and hang an axe over his head--?"

"Is she calling me names?" demanded Mollie ferociously, half turning in her seat. "If she is, please tell her to say it to my face."

"Well, I would if I could," cried poor Amy desperately. "But I'd have to be an acrobat--or an idiot--"

"The last ought to be easy," drawled Grace, then hastily offered her candy. "I didn't mean it, Amy dear," she retracted humbly. "Really I didn't."

"Don't you believe her," said Betty whimsically. "She only wants to find out what you left in your will, Amy."

"I wouldn't dare tell her now, anyway," returned Amy, with a twinkle.

"Methinks it might very easily become my death warrant."

"How so?" queried Mollie with interest--or perhaps it might be said, Mollie's back expressed interest. For Mollie's back could express, Grace had once said, "more emotions in a minute than most people's faces could in a year." And, riding as they so often did, in full view of that expressive back, the girls had come to interpret its owner's emotions correctly in nine cases out of ten. So now they were able to detect a very quickened interest.

"Why," Amy explained naively, "it's barely possible that I've left something to Mollie, too, isn't it?"

"Barely," agreed Mollie dryly.

"Well," Amy chuckled, "then what would be easier than for Mollie to precipitate an accident, dash my brains out against some convenient tree, and then brazenly protest all innocence in the murder."

"Nothing," said Mollie, with the same dryness of intonation, "except the bare possibility of dashing my own brains out in the transaction."

"Oh, well, it could be fixed," said Amy with confidence.

"Do you really think so?" Mollie's back once more betrayed a lively interest, and the girls chuckled. "Suppose you tell me about it."

"And sign my own death warrant?" returned Amy plaintively. "Goodness, you must think I'm foolisher than I am."

"Impossible," retorted Mollie and once more Amy sighed and folded her hands resignedly in her lap.

"All right," she threatened, "if we only live through this, I'll change my will, that's all, and leave everything to Betty and Mrs. Sanderson."

"Goodness, what have I done?" cried Grace in dismay. "Didn't I just offer you another candy and--and--everything"

"I didn't notice the everything," said Amy.

"Well, you noticed the candy," retorted Grace with spirit, "and it was the fattest, juiciest one in the box, too."

"Well, give it back, Amy," directed Mollie, and Amy, in the act of swallowing the fat juicy chocolate, choked on a chuckle.

"Too late," she cried. "It is decapitated."

"I thought I heard its death rattle," sighed Grace, mournfully adding, as the girls laughed at her: "Oh, I don't know what's the matter with me this morning. I never felt so foolish before.

"Girls," she said, and suddenly her voice quivered and her eyes filled, "I've tried so not to think of it, but I can't fight it off much longer.

Will and I have always been such chums, played and worked and even--quarreled--together--"

"Please don't, Gracie," cried Betty, her face flushing and her eyes growing dark and wide. "It would be so easy just to g-give way, but we're in the service, too, you know, and we must be at least as b-brave as the boys."

"I--I guess maybe that's impossible," said Mollie, her voice, even her straight little back betraying emotion. "n.o.body could be as b-brave as they are."

"Well, we never know what we can do till we try, do we?" cried Betty, that indomitable fighting spirit of hers rising to the emergency. "If we say we can't, of course we can't, but we can do our best, can't we? If the boys aren't c-crying, why should we?"

"That's the way to talk," cried Mollie, straightening defiantly at the challenge. "We don't have to, and, what's more, we won't!"

CHAPTER XVII

TEARS AND PATRIOTISM

It was a valiant determination, that one to smile whatever happened; but somehow, 'way down in their brave hearts, the girls doubted a little. They would do their best, but, after all, they were only human and there are times when to smile is the hardest achievement in the world.

"We're--we're nearly there," ventured Amy, after a little interval of silence, during which the girls had been busily gathering all their resources for the crisis just before them. "Do you suppose we've got in ahead of the boys?"

"Goodness, I should hope so," retorted Mollie, with a brief return of her old spirit. "If this old car couldn't make better time than boys on foot, I'd give it away to any one who'd take it off my hands."

As she spoke the car swung around a sharp curve, and the station that had appeared so attractive to them several months ago, loomed into view.

To-day they greeted its appearance with as much enthusiasm as they would the electric chair.

A train was coming in, but it was not one for the troops. It was a mixed train, composed of one pa.s.senger car, a baggage and smoker combined, and several milk cars.

"What a country-looking train," was Amy's comment.

She addressed Betty, but the Little Captain did not answer, for the reason that she was staring into the baggage car, the side door to which was wide open.

"See that man!"

She pointed to an individual who stood in the baggage car, his hands holding up a motorcycle.

"Oh, Betty, is it that man--our motorcyclist--?" began Mollie.

"I am sure it is!" cried Grace.

The man was looking toward the end of the baggage car, so they got only a side look at his face. Then the train moved away and was soon out of sight.

"Well, if that's the fellow, he is gone," murmured Amy.