“Oh, Tavia, there’s no use trying to do anything with you,” sighed her companion. “Why can’t you be serious for once?”
“I just can’t—that’s all. It isn’t in me. I’m a hopeless case, I’m afraid. But don’t worry so much. Let Doro alone and if she wants help she’ll ask for it. Then we’ll all pitch in, and do all we can for her.”
“Indeed yes,” agreed Edna heartily. “Dear Doro does so much for others that it would be a pity if we could not aid her in some way. Oh dear!”
“What is it now?” asked Tavia, glancing out into the gathering darkness. “Something hurt you? Is it the arm?”
“Yes, a little. I wish Jake wouldn’t drive so fast. It makes me nervous. I’m all unstrung, anyhow, I guess, over what has happened. He seems quite reckless, I think.”
“Nonsense,” retorted Tavia. “This is great, I say! I like to go fast. The faster the better.”
“You always did,” commented Edna, “but I think——”
She did not finish the sentence, for the auto gave a sudden jolt, and came to a quick stop, while Jake, the driver, uttered an exclamation of annoyance.
“What is it?” called out Dorothy. “Has anything happened?”
“Something surely has,” voiced Tavia. “This trip is a hoodoo from the start.”