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.
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