eading another encounter with the
men who had stopped her. She passed the place where she had been
stopped, and a bit further on met Doctor Morrison on his way to a
case, his car raising an enormous cloud of dust in the roadway. He
pulled out to allow her room, recognized her, and waved a friendly
hand as he raced by. By this token Betty knew he was in haste, for he
always stopped to talk to her and ask after the Saunders sisters.

The Watterby place, when she reached it, seemed deserted. The
hospitable front door was closed, and the shining array of milk pans
on the back porch was the only evidence that some one had been at
work that morning. No Grandma Watterby came smiling down to the gate,
no busy Mrs. Will Watterby came to the window with her sleeves rolled
high.

"Well, for pity's sake!" gasped Betty, completely astounded. "I never
knew them to go off anywhere all at once. Never! Mrs. Watterby is
always so busy. I wonder if anything has happened."

"Hello! Hello!" A shout from the roadway made her turn. "You looking
for Mr. Watterby?"

"I'm looking for any one of them," explained Betty, smiling at the
tow-haired boy who stood grinning at her. "Are they all away?"

"Yep. They're out riding in an automobile," announced the boy
importantly. "Grandma Watterby's great-nephew, up to Tippewa, died
and left her two thousand dollars. And she says she always wanted a
car, and now she's going to have one. A different agent has been here
trying to sell her one every week. They took me last time."

In spite of her anxiety, Betty laughed at the picture she had of the
hard-working family leaving their cares and toil to go riding about
the country in a demonstrator's car. She hoped that Grandma would
find a car to her liking, one whose springs would be kind to her
rheumatic bones, and that there would be enough left of the little
legacy to buy the valiant old lady some of the small luxuries she
liked.

"Ki's home," volunteered the boy. "He's working 'way out in the
cornfield. Want to see him? I'll call him for you."

"No thanks," said Betty, uncertain what to do next. "I don't suppose
there's a telephone at your house, is there?" she asked, smiling.

The urchin shook his head quickly.

"No, we ain't got one," he replied. "Was you wanting to use Mis'
Watterby's? It's out of order. Been no good for two days. My ma had
to go to Flame City yesterday to telephone my dad."

"I'll have to go to Flame City, too, I think," d