. It was like a tornado let loose, and, expert little horsewoman
that she was, she found ample occupation for all her wits and equestrian
skill, though she managed to jerk out as she whirled past her companions:

"Two pounds of Huyler's candy if I _do_ beat those giraffes of yours."

Hence the commotion at Four Corners a few moments later, the whirlwind
arrived and the conversation recorded in the first chapter.

"Mr. Telford, have you got any Huyler boxes?" asked the winner of the
race, resting her gauntleted hands and her riding crop upon the counter.
"These boys are trying to make me take two pounds of cinnamon suckers on
a bet. Did you ever hear such nonsense? I couldn't eat them in a year and
real, sure-enough bets mean something better than suckers."

"Wall, Miss Bev'ly, I aint rightly knowin' what kind o' lollypops is in
them boxes, most times folks jist helps theirselves an' I don't pay no
'tention ter the brand. It's all candy, I reckon," answered the shop
keeper, drawing two or three boxes from his case and placing them upon
his counter. From the appearance of the wrappings they belied Huyler's
advertisement of being "fresh every hour," though one of the boxes bore
that firm's name. The others were stamped by Martha Washington, Lowney
and one or two other widely known manufacturers.

"Yes this one's Huyler's but I've got to have _two_ this time. Yes I have
too! Athol's got to put up for one and you for the other. Why just look
at me! The mud on me ought to just naturally make you both _want_ to do
something to pay up for making me get into such a state."

"We didn't make you! You started the circus," protested her brother.

"Blessed if I'd do a thing for you if it wasn't likely to be the last
race we'll have in one while. Look at _those_," interjected Archie Carey,
coming over from the letter window where he had gone to ask for the mail
and slamming upon the counter beside the boxes of candy half a dozen
plump letters. Three bore the addresses of the schools under
consideration. All three faces grew sober.

"I'll bet those will settle your hash Bev," was Athol's comment.

"Ah, why couldn't you have been a boy instead of a girl anyhow,"
protested Archie. "Then you'd have come along with us as a matter of
course and our good times wouldn't have all been knocked into a cocked
hat."

"Come on. Let's go home," said Beverly soberly, as she gathered up her
boxes, nodded to Mr. Telford, and took her mud-splas