“And double sodas all around afterward,” added Jane. “My treat.”
“Sounds good to me,” agreed Anne, when Patricia looked inquiringly at her.
“All right, then. That’s what we’ll do. Guess I’ll put on a little speed, so we’ll get home early enough to go to the first performance. This new road certainly has meant a lot to me—it shortened the distance so much. You know it’s quite a trip by rail; this road through the woods cuts off miles. Oh!” her remarks concluded with a shriek.
“What’s the matter?” demanded Anne, startled.
“A bee!” exclaimed Patricia. “For pity’s sake keep your eyes on him and try to put him out. I’m always afraid of being stung when I’m at the wheel.”
“You have some opinion of our eyes if you think they are capable of putting out a full grown bee,” remarked Katharine. “Mine don’t even see him, to say nothing of pushing him out the window.”
“Stop joking,” begged Patricia, “and find him.”
“There he is!” cried Anne, drawing herself as far into the corner as she could.
“Where?” demanded Jane, turning around to look at the passengers in the back seat.
“Down on the floor,” said Katharine. “You girls make me tired; all so afraid of one poor little bee!”