She had wandered, without thinking much about it, into an all but deserted corner of the grounds, when with the suddenness of thought three figures swooped down upon her.
“Lorena! Lorena LeMar!”
The sound of their voices warned her of danger, but too late.
“The play-boys!” Her mind registered these words, then like a ship sinking at sea her brain went into a wild whirl.
Before she could scream or flee, they were upon her, all three of the play-boys. A hand went over her mouth, others lifted her from the earth. She was dropped with little ceremony onto an upholstered seat, a powerful motor purred, and they were away.
As the car shot down the drive an observer might have noticed that a tall, thin young man loitering near had suddenly leaped into action. Spinning about, he dashed to the nearest waiting taxi, delivered an order in a low tone, leaped in and went rushing away in the direction the car had taken.
Poor little French girl! Once inside that car she found her head spinning round with unimaginable terror. What was to happen? For a time she was unable to think.
When at last a certain degree of composure took possession of her, the car had passed from the Fair grounds and was speeding along the boulevard.
“They think me Lorena LeMar,” she told herself. She shuddered afresh as she thought how she had tricked them on that other occasion.
“They must have been furious.” Her heart sank. “Miss LeMar had been their playmate on other occasions; then to treat them like that!