eptibly 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.

"They're gaining," she cried, and then all at once the spirit of the
thing caught her--the contest of speed was getting into her blood. "Oh,
Betty, don't let 'em," she almost screamed, above the noise of the motor
and the rushing wind. "They're not more than fifty feet behind now!"

Betty gave her a swift look, smiled to herself, and once more fixed her
dancing eyes on the road ahead.

"All right," she crowed. "Just watch me run away from them. I wouldn't
have had the heart," she added with a chuckle, "if Mollie hadn't brought
it all on herself."

"But they're still gaining," insisted Grace nervously, trying to look
behind, ahead, keep her seat, hat, and dignity all at the same time.
"Look, Betty, they're only about thirty feet behind!"

"That's near enough," Betty decided, and leaning over suddenly, did
something to the car that Grace never quite understood. Anyway, it had
the desired effect. The little racer fairly leapt forward and, like a
horse that has been given his head for the first time, took the bit
between its teeth and bolted.

Behind them Mollie looked her amazement. She was getting every bit of
speed out of her machine of which it was capable, and then, just as
victory was within sight, Betty was doing an inconceivable, unbelievable
thing--she was winning the race!

Mrs. Ford and Amy had been enjoying the race tremendously, but now they
leaned forward in surprise.

"Goodness, she's beating us," cried Amy.

"No!" snapped Mollie sarcastically. "Who would have supposed it?"

"Perhaps it is because Betty's car is so much lighter," suggested Mrs