"For goodness' sake, hold up your
hands. He may shoot."
Still feeling rather dazed with the suddenness of the thing, Betty
raised both hands above her head, at the same time feeling a rather
hysterical desire to laugh. It was so absurd, being held up by a
masked stranger in broad daylight,
Nevertheless, she gave a little gasp of fright as the man waved his
big revolver menacingly and came close to the car. She wished
frantically that he would not point that firearm at her. Suppose it
should go off!
"Come on, hand over what you got," the robber demanded in a gruff
threatening voice. "The quicker you move, the better it will be for
you."
"Wh-what do you want?" asked Betty, in a weak little voice that did
not sound like her own at all. She had thought of her pocketbook
beside her in the pocket of the car. The purse contained a whole
month's allowance. She was sparring desperately for time-- help in
some form or other might come at any moment. But the ruffian in the
road was evidently in no frame of mind to be fooled with.
He waved his revolver once more, eliciting a terrified gurgle from
Grace and commanded roughly that they get out of the car.
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