"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.
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