“Sit down, you poor dear, do,” Ruth commanded. “What have you done to your silly little self? Never mind; here is your friend and always devoted slave come to your rescue.”
“Where did you come from?” inquired Bab, weakly.
“Out of the everywhere into the here. Father and Mollie will be along in a few seconds and explain to you. I simply couldn’t wait for them. Another dear friend of yours is up the road desiring to offer you assistance. You may recall ‘Mr. A. Bubble.’”
Ruth took out the flask of beef tea which she always carried on a motor trip, and made Barbara drink a few swallows. “Now,” she declared, “I will try to tell you how I happen to be here. Three days ago I told father I simply couldn’t bear to be away from Kingsbridge twenty-four hours longer. So he and I decided that as soon as manners would permit we should put the automobile in commission and fly to you as fast as we could. And here we are! Besides, just think how quickly the holiday time is passing. I have another scheme—but here come Mollie and father!”
Mr. Stuart and Mollie were approaching quickly.
“Let me help you, Barbara,” said Mr. Stuart, putting his strong arm around the injured girl and nearly lifting her from the ground. “Can you manage to walk? Ruth, you help from the other side. It is not far to the road, and once we get you there, the auto will soon take you home to that little mother of yours.”
“I declare I would just like to kiss ‘Mr. A. Bubble,’ if I knew an appropriate place,” declared Barbara, when she was at last safely stowed away in the automobile. Her lame foot was propped up on soft cushions while close beside her sat her beloved Ruth holding her hand. Mollie was sitting in front with Mr. Stuart.
“Tell me,” Barbara continued, “no one has properly explained it to me how you happened to be at the right place just at the right moment? And how did Mollie find you to tell you I was concealed in the woods with a sprained ankle? It’s too much for me. Please explain?”
“Not so fast, Miss Thurston, if you please,” pleaded Mr. Stuart. “Ruth and I would like to be regarded as angels dropped from the sky, but the truth must be told! She and I were speeding along this very road, a little faster than is perfectly proper, as we were hoping to make our way before dusk to the home of a charming lady, Mrs. Thurston, who lives with her two attractive daughters, in Laurel Cottage, Kingsbridge. What did we see? A small, excited girl ahead of us, who seemed to be trying to run faster than our auto could travel. Nevertheless, we caught up with her. Who do you think she was? Miss Mollie Thurston! We were all so surprised that it must have taken us quite a minute to explain matters to each other.”
“You can imagine,” added Mistress Mollie from the front seat, “how jolly glad I was!”