"Now we have him, what are we going to do with him?" whispered Mollie, a
comical look of chagrin on her face. "We can't capture him all by
ourselves, and we can hardly expect him to wait while we get some one."
"He is huskier than I thought," admitted Grace, adding suddenly, "Betty,
what are you going to do?"
But Betty either did not hear or did not want to, for she was approaching
the man without a backward glance in their direction. Though not knowing
just what was about to happen, the girls followed loyally, close at her
heels.
As for Betty, she simply stepped up close to the man and stood looking at
him steadily, finally forcing him by sheer concentration to straighten up
and meet her eyes.
"Well, who are you?" he demanded at last, gruffly.
"That was just the question I was about to put to you," Betty replied, and
by her outward composure no one could possibly have guessed how hard her
heart was beating. "We are really quite desirous of knowing all about
you."
"May I ask," he said, his cruel mouth sneering under the absurd moustache,
"what has happened to arouse this sudden interest?"
The sneer brought a flush to Betty's face and made her eyes glow angrily.
"You ought to know that without my telling you," she said coldly. "Perhaps
you will remember, if I recall it to you, the day you knocked an old woman
down in the middle of the road and then rode away without finding out how
seriously you had injured her.
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