"Maybe it is a good omen," said Mollie, quick to seize her opportunity. "I feel it in my bones that it won't be long before we will hear good news of Will--and you know my prophetic bones never lie." "I don't know anything of the sort," protested Amy, although the remark brought a reluctant smile to her lips. "I've known those same prophetic bones to slip up before this." "Which reminds me," Mollie cried, apropos of nothing in particular, "that if we don't put on more speed we'll not reach our destination before dark. I wonder why Betty doesn't hurry," for Betty and Grace in the speedy little racer were taking the lead. She signaled the latter with three long and three short toots of the horn. A moment later the racer slowed down and Betty turned around to see what was wanted. "You're too slow," cried Mollie. "If you don't go a little faster, we'll have to run over you." "Oh-ho, look who's talking!" gibed the Little Captain, adding wickedly: "We were afraid to speed up for fear of leaving you too far behind." "Now I know we'll have to run over you," cried Mollie fiercely. "Toot, toot--out of my way!" But Betty evidently had no intention of getting out of anybody's way, for with a challenging blast of her horn she put the little car at high and it sprang forward gleefully. Behind her, Mollie's car, like a big cat after a mouse, gave exultant chase, fairly eating up the road. And yet Betty maintained the distance between them--even drew away a little. "Goodness," cried Mollie suddenly, her eyes sparkling, "I may be mistaken, but I think she wants a race!" CHAPTER VII THE RACE Then began some fun that was novel and exciting even to the Outdoor Girls, who thought they had tried just about every sport there was. Mollie bent her straight little back over the steering wheel, gave her more power and the big car fairly flew ahead, lessening perceptibly the distance between it and the racer. However, Betty, looking behind, seemed not in the least concerned. On the contrary, she waved her hand joyously as she recognized Mollie had taken her challenge. Then she too bent over the wheel with her eyes glued to the flying ribbon of road ahead. "Betty, Betty, stop it!" cried Grace, holding frantically to her hat and the side of the car. "Suppose we should m-meet somebody--a wagon or a m-machine." "So much the worse for it," retorted Betty gayly. "You keep your eye on Mollie, Gracie dear, and tell me whether she's gaining--that's a good girl." "If you think I'm going to help you break our necks--" Grace sputtered, but Betty cut her short. "Well, if you don't I will have to look for myself," she said, adding maliciously: "And then we will have a smash-up!" Grace groaned and looked behind her.