We've had more trouble on this ride than any I can remember.
A hold-up, sheep and-- this!"
"Well, there is no use talking about it," Betty reminded her
cheerfully. "The less we talk, the harder we can work and the sooner
we shall get started again."
"Yes, that's all very well," grumbled Mollie, as she fumbled for her
tools; "but you don't know this place as well as I do."
"You talk," said Amy, her eyes widening, "as though there were wild
animals or something in the woods. I didn't know they came as far east
as this."
"They don't, goose," said Mollie grumpily, as she pulled at the tire.
"I didn't say anything about wild animals, did I? Only we have to ride
about two miles through the woods before we get to the lodge and I
must say I didn't want to do that in the dark."
"But there is some sort of road, isn't there?" asked Grace.
Mollie, bending over the lifting jack, shot her a withering glance.
"Of course there's a road," she said shortly. "How else could we
expect to use the cars?"
"It must be a sort of wagon road," suggested Betty as she deftly
helped her chum.
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