“Well, enough is as good as a feast,” laughed Cora, in great satisfaction. “Now we’ll give the lords of creation a chance to explain how they came to let mere girls run away from them.”
“It will take some explanation,” remarked Belle.
“They’re great little explainers, though,” said Bess. “They’d rather die than admit we had the faster car.”
Cora gradually slackened speed until the car, while still running swiftly, had reached a more reasonable rate. Belle’s glances behind told her that their pursuers were overtaking them by leaps and bounds.
A moment later there was a wild chorus of shouts, and Jack’s car drew up alongside. His two friends, Walter Pennington and Paul Hastings, were with him, both tall, athletic young fellows, with frank, pleasant faces.
The girls looked up with well simulated surprise, and pleasure that was not at all simulated.
“Why, it’s the boys!” they cried in chorus.
Both cars had by this time come to a full stop, and the masculine contingent, deserting theirs, came round to the girls’ car to greet them and to shake hands. Jack went further and gave his sister a hearty kiss, a proceeding which brought a look of envy to the faces of his companions.
“Where in the world have you slowpokes been?” asked Belle.
“Not much of a compliment, keeping away from us so long,” pouted Bess in a way to show a most bewitching dimple.