"So did I," added Amy.
"So you would recognize him again?" Mollie demanded eagerly, swerving the car perilously near the edge of the road.
"Are you sure?" added Betty, taking her eyes from the far horizon and regarding Grace intently.
Both girls nodded vigorously.
"His head was down, of course," Amy continued, "but I'd know his face in a minute if I saw it again. Eyes close together, long nose—"
"And a little mustache," Grace finished eagerly. "The kind Percy Falconer used to wear and we girls called an eyebrow on his lip."
"He must have been a thing of beauty," commented Mollie.
"He had the meanest kind of face," said Amy, with a little shudder. "The kind you wouldn't like to meet on a dark night."
"I should have judged as much from your description," said Betty dryly. "There's one good thing about him— we ought to be able to recognize him easily."
"You talk as though you expected to meet him again," said Amy, looking at her curiously.