When Virginia opened her purse to pay for the cones, Mr. Vivian, after inspecting the tendered currency for a moment, submitted a proposal. "Miss Dale, would you object if I presented the cones to the children? I would be glad to do it." There was a look of understanding in Virginia's eyes as she answered him, "I know how you feel about it. I can't let you do it today, though, Mr. Vivian. You see, it is my treat." Motionless as a statue, Mr. Vivian stood before the door of his establishment and watched the machine depart. As it disappeared a look of great approval rested upon his countenance. "There goes a darn fine girl," he muttered. He threw back his fat shoulders and worked them as though a great load had been recently removed from them. "Thank heaven," he cried, "she didn't take it into her head to unload that outfit in my place." He scratched his head. "What would I have done?" CHAPTER V ACCIDENTS WILL HAPPEN It was past one o'clock when Virginia left the colored children at the Orphans' Home. The purchase of the cones had detained them much longer than she had anticipated. Now, rid of her guests, she remembered her meeting with her father. Appreciating with dismay how the minutes had flown, she considered it advisable to return home as soon as practicable that rough water might be lubricated. "Hurry, Ike," she told the chauffeur. Now, Ike needed little encouragement in this matter. It delighted him exceedingly to find excuse to unloose the surplus power of the fast machine. Tantalizing qualms which only Serena's cooking could quiet likewise beset him. It was his custom to lunch early and abundantly. Ike hurried. In a moment the car was rushing along one of South Ridgefield's residential streets at a high rate of speed. Virginia's thoughts rehearsed the events of the morning. Those of the chauffeur anticipated his delayed repast. They approached a corner. The hoarse honk of a horn sounded from the intersecting street. At the crossing came an instantaneous perception of a man approaching at high speed upon a motorcycle and trying to dodge. The sickening sensation of impending peril held the girl as the emergency brake squealed. A heavy shock at the back of the automobile seemed to lift it. Virginia screamed. The motorcycle rider half dove, half tumbled out from the back of the big car and crumpled an inert and senseless heap in the street. The Dale car stopped almost at the instant of the shock. Seeming to fall from his seat, Ike ran back and stared for a second at the upset motorcycle and then hurried to the recumbent figure. A bystander rushed out and joined the chauffeur, crying, "Is he dead?" Ike, filled with personal woes, took no heed of the inquiry. "Run squa'e into me. Smack bang. Done knock er big dent in ma caah," he protested. Luckily the bystander was a man of action rather than words. He gave attention to the stricken one. "Get the doctor, over there," he commanded sharply, pointing to a white house nearby.