“What?” gasped Mrs. Day.
“Swore out a warrant? The old Elder? What fur?” demanded Mr. Day.
“Is it really so, Marty?” asked Janice, herself surprised.
“Yep. I got it straight. Saw him comin’ out of Judge Little’s office with the constable.”
“What’s he swore out a warrant for against your cousin, I want to know?” demanded Aunt ’Mira.
“Speedin’,” said Marty, grinning. “I knew they’d git her yet. Goin’ to make an example of her, so they say. That’s what the Elder says. ’Course there’s so many other autermobilists in town, they need an example. Mean old hunks!”
Uncle Jason fairly grew gray under his tan and his watery eyes caught fire of his wrath.
“If that ain’t jest like that old psalm-singin’ hypocrite! If he dares have our Janice fined it’ll be the sorriest day he ever spent with his hat on!”
He wanted to know all about how it had happened. Janice told him the exact truth, as far as the racing of the automobile along the Upper Road went, but she was too excited to make dear all about the Trimmins and the sick baby.
“Mebbe you’d ought to have stopped when they told you to, Janice,” said Aunt ’Mira timidly.