"Now where are we going?" demanded Bobby bouncing around on the seat
cushions more like a girl of seven than fourteen. "Do tell me, for
I'm simply devoured with curiosity."
So Betty briefly outlined for her a little of Bob's history and of
what she knew Lockwood Hale had told the poorhouse master. She also
explained how she had obtained the old bookshop man's address from
the bride they had met in the Monument the day before.
The rain came down steadily, and the country road was already muddy,
showing that it had stormed the greater part of the night. Carter was
a careful driver, and the luxurious limousine had been substituted
for the touring car so that the girls were protected and very
comfortable. Quite suddenly Carter brought the car to a stop on a
lonely stretch of road just above a sharp turn.
"Goodness, I hope he hasn't a puncture," said Bobby. "I was so
interested in listening to you I never heard anything. What's wrong,
Carter?" she called.
"There's a little dog in the road, Miss Bobby," said Carter slowly
and distinctly, as he always spoke. Bobby had once declared that she
did not believe a fire would shake Carter from his drawling speech.
"A puppy, I guess you'd call it.
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