"Of course. I'm no more anxious to get into trouble than you are. Oh, what did I do with my handkerchief?"
"It's up your sleeve," said Grace, indicating a bulge in Mollie's sweater.
"Well, come on!" exclaimed the owner of the new car.
"She says it as though she were—going to—jail!" laughed Grace.
The demonstrator had alighted from the car, and was looking it over, testing the tires with his hand.
"Is it all right, Mr. Ransom?" asked Mollie, a bit anxiously. "Is anything the matter?"
"Not a thing, Miss Billette," he replied. "It is in perfect order. And I'm sure you can run it alone very easily. You have had a number of lessons, and you learned very quickly."
"If only I remember to let out my clutch before I change gears," Mollie murmured.
"Oh, you'll remember that," returned the chauffeur, to give her the confidence he saw she needed.
"I'll remind you of it," volunteered Betty.
The girls got into the car, and the man, impressing a few important facts on the pretty girl driver, lifted his cap as Mollie pressed the button of the self-starter.
