"Goose," remarked Mollie. "Of course I wasn't thinking of Diana's beauty. I was merely thinking of her in the role of a fair huntress."
"Goodness, now she is insulting us!" cried Betty, turning upon her friend with a melodramatic frown. "Do you mean to imply that one or all of us are huntresses?"
"Not of men," said Mollie scathingly. "That shows a guilty conscience, Betty. I'm surprised at you."
"O-oh! Squelched!" said Betty meekly. "May I ask," she added very humbly, "just what you did mean?"
"I simply meant," explained Mollie patiently, "that we were after two men—"
"Oh!" cried Amy, turning upon her in horror. "And you just told Betty you didn't mean that!"
"I didn't," cried the badgered Mollie in desperation, then turned away in disgust. "There's no use trying to tell you anything," she said.
"Go ahead, Mollie dear," urged Betty.
"I meant," Mollie continued slightly, but only slightly, mollified, "that we were hunting two men—Mrs. Sanderson's Willie and the motorcyclist who ran her down. And we haven't any more real chance of finding them than—"
"A celluloid dog has chasing an asbestos cat in—" began Grace.