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Updated: June 4, 2025
She said one motorcyclist was as bad as another, and the only thing that would give her satisfaction would be 'to arrest the whole tribe o' them." Betty laughed a little at the characteristic remark, but her eyes were troubled. "Well," she said with a sigh, "I suppose you're right. She is rather hard to reason with at times. If only I could think of something."
She read it out loud to me, counting over the words. As we turned away from the window-desk someone turned and went out just ahead of us. It was the motorcyclist. Margery was sleeping when we returned, and we sat down beside the bed and read the paper we had bought at the corner stand.
We mustn't lose sight of him!" and the man, obeying that impulse for adventure that is in all of us, had complied. The motorcyclist had sped around the corner and darted into one of the side streets. A few minutes later the chauffeur turned the same corner with a recklessness that made them gasp, turned it just in time to see their quarry disappearing round another corner.
The latter shook his shaggy gray hair, and murmured something in German. "Where did you meet the man?" asked Jack of the young motorcyclist. "About two miles down the road. He was walking along, sort of talking to himself, and I was afraid of him. He called to me, and offered me a half a dollar to deliver this message. I didn't want to at first, but he said if I didn't he'd hurt me, so I took it.
For an interval which to Philip seemed unending, there was no sound or movement, then a figure glided swiftly through the patch of moonlight and approached the camp. It was a man in the garb of a motorcyclist. Noiselessly Philip shifted his position. The cyclist crept to the shelter of a tree and halted. The moon now hung above the wood.
To this Betty always nodded in the affirmative, her little mouth grimly set, her eyes fixed steadily ahead, as though she would draw their destination nearer to them by the very force of her desire. "I wonder," Mollie flung back at them from between clenched teeth, "what that motorcyclist looked like. I'd like to meet him again with a firing squad."
Without stopping to question, the girls followed, jumping in beside her, and the chauffeur, after one surprised look, touched his cap and the machine leapt forward like a wild thing. Mollie had time, even in her excitement, to wonder how Betty had managed it. "I think she hypnotizes them," she muttered to herself. And all Betty had really said to the man was, "Please follow that motorcyclist!
"What " began Betty. "It was the motorcyclist!" cried Grace, her face flaming. "I couldn't have been mistaken, because I caught a good view of his face." "But what was he doing back here?" demanded Amy, while the rest stared at Grace excitedly. "That's only a rutty old wagon road, and "
There was complete stillness and silence for a moment, then another short lurching journey through the cane; and next, with an abruptness that made the engineer's senses swim again, the fellow once more took to the air. The speed with which he "got away" was enough to make a motorcyclist, doing his best, seem to stand still. It took time for Smith to regain his balance.
At the same time Nakwisi, who was on the other side of me, also nudged me and told me to look around a few minutes later so it wouldn't look as if she had called my attention. After a short interval I looked. There sat the motorcyclist directly behind us. How I did wish we could tell him about the Frog and how he was always following us around, why, we could not guess.
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