"Why, that we'll get lost," Amy explained. "Wasn't that what you meant?" "Oh, I hope not," said Mrs. Ford, a little anxiously. "Perhaps we'll be able to see them when we round this curve, Mollie." But they rounded several curves, and still no sign of Betty's car. Then happened what Mollie had secretly been fearing would happen. They came to a crossroads and a sudden stop at one and the same moment. "Now, what?" queried Amy, in the tone of resignation that never failed to rub Mollie the wrong way. "Something the matter with the engine?" "No, the engine's all right," snapped Mollie, adding, irritably: "But everything else is all wrong." "What, for instance?" queried Mrs. Ford soothingly. She knew that the first defeat Mollie had ever experienced would be bound to rankle and was prepared to make allowances. "If the engine is all right, why don't we go on?" "Which way?" queried Mollie, spreading out her arms with a hopeless gesture. "There are two roads, one looks as good as the other, and we haven't the slightest idea in the world which to take." "Oh!" gasped Amy. Mrs. Ford gave a low whistle as she saw the fix they were in. "Then if Betty doesn't realize our predicament and come back pretty soon, we'll either have to stay here indefinitely, or go back the way we came, is that it?" "Yes," nodded Mollie, adding truthfully and more than a little anxiously: "Only I'm not quite sure I know just how we came. As I said, this is unfamiliar country to me." Amy groaned. "Then we shall be lost for fair," she said. "Oh, why did Betty do such a foolish thing?" Mollie was about to retort when a cloud of dust in the distance and a faint chug-chug made her swallow her words. "What's that?" she cried. "It sounds like a motor. I wonder--" "Yes, it is!" cried Amy, straining her eyes to see through the cloud of dust. "It's only a little car, and it's coming at about ninety miles an hour." At this reference to Betty's speed, Mollie winced a little but gave a relieved sigh nevertheless. For by this time the car was near enough to be identified beyond doubt. It was a racer, and there was a girl at the wheel. A few moments later Betty herself, with a grin, hailed them. "Hello," she cried, adding as the car slowed to a standstill: "This time the joke's on us. We were so busy running away from you that we took the wrong road. This one ends about two miles up in somebody's farm." "It's lucky something stopped you," said Mollie dryly, adding as she cocked one eye at the sun: "Well, let's be getting along. We'll have to hurry and make up for lost time." "Do you still want to get ahead of us?" asked Betty, as a moment later she swung her car into the right road. "Because if you do--" "Go on," cried Mollie, exasperated, yet beginning to laugh, for after all Mollie was a good loser. "Some way or other I'll get even with you, Betty Nelson. Meanwhile hustle!"