The Outdoor Girls at Wild Rose Lodge

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.