“Goodness, no,” put in Amy.  “It was on this road, but we were miles out of town.”

“Will, I’d love you all the rest of my life if you’d only find that motorcyclist and have him punished,” said Betty fervently.  “It makes me wild when I think how easily he got away from us—­”

“Never mind that,” interrupted Will, his eyes twinkling.  “All I want is to have you repeat the first part of your speech.  What was that about loving me all the rest of my life?”

“Say, what’s the idea?” demanded Allen suddenly, having been engrossed in a little dream all his own.  “What kind of rash promises are you asking Betty to make?”

“Well, I would,” contended Betty stoutly, adding with a twinkle:  “Like a sister.”

“Oh,” said Will, turning disappointedly away.  “If that’s all you have to offer me—­”

“But I’ve got lots more than that,” Betty assured him quickly.  “Why, Will, if you’re real good, I may even give you an extra piece of cake.”

“Well, now, that’s different again,” cried Will, his interest rekindling.

“Will,” remonstrated Grace plaintively, “I’m surprised at you.  You are really getting shockingly material.”

“Getting!” interjected Frank, with a grin.

“Go on, Betty, never mind this vulgar rabble—­with apologies to you, sweet sister,” as Grace shot an indignant glance at him.  “You were saying that if I found this motorcyclist you’d give me an extra piece of cake, or words to that effect.  Am I right?”

“Perfectly,” laughed Betty, then added, seriously:  “But, really, I think something ought to be done.”

“So do I,” Amy backed her up stoutly.  “We ought to let those old motorcyclists know they can’t run over poor old ladies whenever they feel like it—­”

“Favorite outdoor sports,” murmured Roy.

“It was the most heartless thing I ever saw,” said Mollie, entering into the discussion with a will.  “He never even stopped to find out what damage had been done.  He might have killed her—­”

“But what wouldst thee, sweet damsel?” asked Will patiently.  “We can hardly go out on the broad highway and hold up every motorcyclist that comes along—­”

“Well, I know what you could do,” said Grace, with unusual animation.  “You could take one of us along to point out the suspicious characters.”

“Yes, we got a fine view of him,” added Amy eagerly.  “He had small eyes close together—­”

“Regular villain type,” murmured Frank, but Amy refused to be side-tracked.

“And goggles—­”

“They all have those,” interrupted Roy.

“And a tiny little mustache that looked as if it had got there by mistake.”

“Probably false,” suggested Will.  “One of the kind you stick on with molasses—­like feathers—­”

“Oh, do be sensible,” cried Mollie impatiently.  “Of course you can’t go holding him up at the point of a gun, but there ought to be something—­”