“But suppose the hero didn’t come and rescue you?” suggested Helen. “Besides, isn’t it the heroine that the hero always rescues?”
“Well, generally it is,” admitted Madeline, “but in this case I think any one of us would do beautifully. A chaperon would have to be extremely grateful to anybody who saved the life of one of her young charges.”
Madeline yawned ostentatiously. “Girls,” she said, “let us elect President Brooks to the office of first victim-in-waiting to the hero. All in favor say aye.”
“Aye!” shouted everybody promptly.
“I think you ought to have elected Betty,” objected Mary. “She’s always getting into fixes, whereas I never do; and if I begin now it will look like a put-up job.”
Betty blushed guiltily. “I am always having mishaps,” she said. “I had one this morning. I wasn’t going to tell about it, but it would have been a perfectly fine chance for a hero if he’d been there. But he wasn’t.”
“Well, tell us about it,” demanded Mary. “Couldn’t you do the same thing over again?”
“Of course not,” said Betty indignantly. “It was this way. You know I came down early to breakfast, to help mother into her dress that buttons up the back. Well, I was hurrying down the hill on Market Street, thinking how sorry I should be to leave this funny little place, and all of a sudden I heard a bicycle bell behind me. It startled me dreadfully and I began to go to the right; but then I remembered that you must pass to the left here, so I changed and went to the left, and the result was that we both landed in the middle of the road on top of each other. That is, the man and the wheel went over me.”
“Goodness!” exclaimed Roberta. “Weren’t you hurt?”
“Not very much, but I was dreadfully frightened, because the man groaned and acted as if he was nearly dead,—he was a negro, you understand,—and I was afraid he would arrest me, before I could find father. You see it was early and there weren’t any white people out, but there were a lot of negroes and I thought they would take his part. In the end they were awfully nice. A big black man helped me up and scolded the man on the wheel, and made him say he was sorry, and then I walked home and brushed off the dust and got a scolding from father for being so heedless, and made him promise not to tell you girls. But just for a few minutes I should have been awfully glad to have a hero come and rescue me. I suppose, though, he was probably sound asleep,” ended Betty practically. “He’s always late to breakfast.”