“Anyhow,” said Jessie, “I’ve bought the books telling how to rig it. And we’re going to do it all ourselves—Amy and I. And Mr. Brill is going to send up some wire and things. Of course, if you won’t let me have it, I’ll just have to pay for the hardware out of my allowance.”
“Very well,” her father said with gravity. “Maybe Chapman can find some use for the hardware if we don’t decide to build a radio station.”
As they seldom forbade their daughter anything 27 that was not positively harmful, however, there was not much danger that Jessie’s allowance would be depleted by paying a share of the monthly hardware bill. Anyhow, Jessie as well as Amy, went off very gayly in the Brandon car with the minister’s daughter. Mr. Brandon drove his own car, and the girls sat in the tonneau with Mrs. Brandon, who did not seem by any means a very old lady, even if she was a grandmother.
“But grandmothers nowadays aren’t crippled up with rheumatism and otherwise decrepit,” declared Amy, the gay. “You know, I think it is rather nice to be a grandmother these days. I am going to matriculate for the position just as soon as I can.”
They rolled out of town, and just as they turned off the boulevard to take another road to Parkville, a big car passed the Brandon automobile coming into town. It was being driven very rapidly, but very skillfully, and the car was empty save for the driver.
“What beautiful cars those French cars are,” Mrs. Brandon said.
“Did you see her, Jess?” cried Amy, excitedly. “Look at her go!”
“Do you speak of the car or the lady?” laughed Nell Stanley.
“She is no lady, I’d have you know,” Amy rejoined 28 scornfully. “Didn’t you know her when she passed, Jess?”
“I thought it was the car,” her chum admitted. “Are you sure that was the woman who ran off with the girl?”