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Hope, Laura Lee

"Or, doing their best for the soldiers"


Without stopping to question, the girls followed, jumping in beside her,
and the chauffeur, after one surprised look, touched his cap and the
machine leapt forward like a wild thing.
Mollie had time, even in her excitement, to wonder how Betty had managed
it.
"I think she hypnotizes them," she muttered to herself.
And all Betty had really said to the man was, "Please follow that
motorcyclist! We mustn't lose sight of him!" and the man, obeying that
impulse for adventure that is in all of us, had complied.
The motorcyclist had sped around the corner and darted into one of the
side streets. A few minutes later the chauffeur turned the same corner
with a recklessness that made them gasp, turned it just in time to see
their quarry disappearing round another corner.
"Gosh, that fellow can coax some speed out of that machine of his!" cried
the man at the wheel. "But if you young ladies don't mind a little danger,
we may catch him yet."
"Oh, please don't think about us," cried Betty, her hands clutching the
back of the seat, her eyes straining after the flying speck that seemed to
be growing smaller every second. "Oh, we must catch him,--we must! It
would be awful to lose him now!"
"Well, here goes," responded the man behind the wheel, and under his
skillful touch the machine leapt forward like a spirited horse at the
touch of the lash.
"That's it, that's it!" cried Mollie, almost beside herself with
excitement.


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