"Only this morning
we were feeling discouraged and down-hearted because Mrs. Sanderson was
going away to-morrow and we couldn't think of a thing to do to help her.
Then all in one day, in an hour, really, we capture the motorcyclist and
find her son for her. It's no wonder I can't seem to make myself believe I
haven't dreamed it all," she finished, with such a look of utter happiness
on her face that Mollie slipped an arm about her and hugged her fondly.
"You know, Betty," she said solemnly, "I'm almost beginning to have a
superstitious belief in you."
"Goodness! Why?" cried Betty, while the other two looked at Mollie
wonderingly. "What have I done now that you should say such things and
treat me thus?"
"Why, I was just thinking," Mollie replied with rare earnestness, "that,
as usual, if it hadn't been for you we probably wouldn't have arrested the
gambler--or rather, given Sergeant Mullins a chance to--and so wouldn't
have brought him here to find out he belonged to our little old lady."
"But I don't see how--" Betty was beginning in real bewilderment when
Mollie interrupted her impatiently.
"I don't suppose you do," she said, with fond severity. "You never do give
yourself credit for anything, anyway, Betty Nelson. But who was it, I'd
like to know, that first had courage to go up and speak to that criminal?"
"Oh, that!" said Betty, sinking back relievedly. "Anybody could have done
that.
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