It was a trick. Janice knew instantly that the Elder and the constable had engineered it particularly to catch her. She had been already told that the Elder had reported more than once that she exceeded the allowed speed for automobiles in passing his house.
She not only exceeded the speed now, but she refused to obey the constable’s mandate. To stop and try to explain to the two angry and excited old men would delay getting for little Buddy Trimmins the medical attention he needed.
Janice did not even hesitate.
The Kremlin car roared past the constable, who was fairly dancing at the edge of the highway, and in a flash was out of sight. Janice knew her escape was but for the moment. The Elder would undoubtedly press the case against her. She would have to pay for refusing to stop, as commanded; and her punishment might be severe.
These thoughts flashed through her mind, it is true, but her heart was set upon getting to Dr. Poole’s. All the time she was praying silently that the good physician might be at home and able to do something to help the baby.
They roared down into High Street, the car going just as fast as she had ever dared drive it. Fortunately there was not a vehicle in sight; but pedestrians halted to watch her in wonder as she drove on and stopped abruptly before the door of the doctor’s office.
Virginia seemed dazed. The baby lay in her lap, unconscious—Janice feared he scarcely breathed. But the older girl leaped out and ran up the walk to the office door. It opened before she touched the knob and the doctor himself appeared.
“Who’ve you run over, Janice Day?” he demanded. “I’ve been expecting it, and I saw you coming!”
“It’s the little Trimmins baby. He’s in convulsions, Doctor. Do, do help him!”
“Convulsions? Run over? Strange result, Janice.”