had too much of a start," she said.
Then, with a shudder of remembrance, she drew herself from Walter's
grasp and looked at him wildly. "Walter!" she cried. "There are all our
bags in the auto--Mrs. Bragley's papers--and those--those--beasts around
loose! Oh--oh----" Before she had finished she had started toward the
road on a run with Walter in close pursuit.

They met the rest of the anxious party on the way, but nothing less than
an earthquake could have stopped Nan then. She waved to them and Walter
shouted something unintelligible as he raced past, and they had nothing
else to do but to follow the young lunatics--for that is what they
called them.

When Mr. and Mrs. Mason and the girls arrived at the spot where they had
left their car they found Walter and Nan sitting on the running board
and Nan holding something in her hand which she waved wildly at them.

"They're safe! They're safe!" she called, as Rhoda, Grace and Bess ran
up to her and then stopped short at the disheveled picture she made.

"Why, Nan Sherwood!" began Bess, amazed, "what----"

"Why, Nan, you've been crying!" exclaimed Rhoda, running forward and
putting a protecting arm about her friend.

"You needn't remind me of it," said Nan with a hysterical little sob. "I
may start again."

"But, Nan dear, something very dreadful must have happened to make you
cry so," said Mrs. Mason gravely. "We have been worried about you."

Nan told them all about it, with little catches of her breath in
between, while her listeners grew more and more agitated and Bess wanted
to hire a dozen detectives immediately and give chase.

"So they gave you forty-eight hours, did they?" asked Mr. Mason, his
mouth tightening in a grim line. "Well, I'll give them just twenty-four
hours before they land in jail. Come on, let us get back to the town. I
want to set some wheels in motion."

"But let us look for the rascals ourselves first," pleaded Walter. "They
may not have run off as far as you think."

"Well, it won't do any harm to take a look around," said Mr. Mason.

He and his son went back into the orange grove and there spent the best
part of half an hour trying to get some trace of Nan's assailants. They
found some footprints and followed these, but presently the marks were
lost in crossing a brook.

Some men working in the far end of the orange grove came up and wanted
to know what was the matter.

"You ought to get some bloodhounds on their trail," said on