“You better carry a revolver apiece,” cautioned John.
“I don’t know about that,” remarked his mother. “The books and articles that I have read on the subject say that it is not necessary to carry that sort of protection. There is usually an unfailing courtesy to be found along the road, particularly in the west.”
“But we have to go through the east to get to the west,” sighed Lily; “and it will be just our luck to encounter all sorts of obstacles—ghosts, or bootleggers, or bandits—just because we want so desperately to get there safely.”
“But that only makes it so much more fun!” returned Marjorie.
“Yes, I know you love danger, Marj. But one day you’ll love it too much. Sometimes it seems as if you almost court difficulties.”
“Still, we always gain by them in the end!” she replied, triumphantly.
“I’m more concerned about the little troubles—something going wrong with the car, for instance,” said Alice. “And I’m so afraid we’ll some of us be weak, and accept help, and—”
“And be sent home like bad children!” supplied Marjorie.
“Wouldn’t it be funny,” observed John, “if you would come home one by one until only Alice was left to return the car to her aunt! I’m afraid that I would just have to laugh!”
“Well, if you did, you never need come around us again!” snapped Marjorie. “Girl Scouts wouldn’t want to see you—”