"I can't tell you how sorry I am," went on the farmer. "You're strangers
around here, I take it."
"Yes," said Betty, "and we lost our way. We're going to Rockford. We must
be there to-night."
"Rockford?"
"Yes, my aunt lives there."
"And who might your aunt be?"
"Mrs. Palmer."
"Bill Palmer's wife?"
"Yes, that's Uncle Will I guess," and Betty laughed.
"Pshaw now! You don't say so! Why, I know Bill well."
The farmer's wife came bustling out.
"Is the young lady hurt, Jason? What got into Nero, anyhow? I never see
him behave so!"
"Oh, it was them pesky boys! No, she's not hurt."
Amy was surrounded by her chums. She was pale, and still trembling, but
was fast recovering her composure.
"Won't you come in the house," invited the woman. "We're jest goin' t'
set down t' supper, and I'm sure you'd like a cup of tea."
"I should love it!" murmured Grace.
"What be you--suffragists?" went on the woman, with a smile.
"That's the second time we've been taken for them to-day," murmured
Betty, "Do we look so militant?"
"You look right peart!" complimented the woman. "Do come in?"
Betty, with her eyes, questioned her chums. They nodded an assent.
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