“It’s all right,” she whispered. “The girls are all over their huff. We shouldn’t have kept them so long waiting. That’s enough to make anybody mad.”
“Oh, I don’t care,” Babs answered, somewhat truthfully for she was feeling very brave now. “We’ve finished our work, anyway. The women will take charge now.”
“But you’re not going to—to keep it up, are you Babs?” asked Cara, anxiously.
“You mean—the scrap?”
“Yes. Really, they are sorry.”
“They ought to be,” Babs retorted. “Why should they blame me?”
“Oh, you know what kids they are,” laughed Cara. “Come on. I’m going for a soda. I’m choked. Come along. Want to fetch your daddy?”
“I guess he’s riding with Mr. Hunt,” Babs answered. “Let’s go. I’m smothered,” and bidding a quick good-bye to the newly found relation, Miss Isabel Davis, Barbara hurried along with Cara.
The soda was refreshing. They sipped it leisurely in Hills, both girls a little tired and one girl, Babs, a little anxious.
“If only old Captain Quiller knows where Nicky may have gone,” she said, “I feel positive we will be able to clear everything up. Wherever do you suppose the old model went to, anyway?” she asked again, for the question was constantly recurring to her.