"
"My! don't we love us?" queried Grace, fishing up from her pocket a
much-mangled and sadly worn chocolate and calmly inserting it between two
very pretty rows of white teeth. "It's really touching--"
"Oh, Grace, how can you think of candies at a time like this?" cried
Mollie impatiently.
"Don't know," returned Grace, calmly nibbling. "It's a gift, I guess."
"Gracie, you're an awful goose," cried Betty, hugging her impulsively.
"But I'm so happy, I'll forgive you even that--"
"It's you that ought to be forgiven for calling me names," returned Grace,
in an injured tone of voice. "Goodness," she cried, a moment later,
pointing a moist and tired chocolate in the direction of the horizon. "Am
I mistaken, or is that the stalwart figure of our sergeant approaching in
the distance?"
"Oh, it is, it is!" cried Betty, springing to her feet and fairly dancing
in her excitement and impatience. "Oh, I can't wait! Why doesn't he
hurry?"
As a matter of fact, the sergeant was hurrying very much indeed, for he
was almost as eager as the girls to see the old lady and collect the
evidence in the case against the motorcyclist.
He was panting as he sprang up the steps toward them and his eyes were
bright with anticipation.
"I got back as soon as I could," he cried. "Now, if you can take me--"
The girls wasted no time in words, and led him swiftly up the stairs,
pausing before Mrs. Sanderson's door.
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