he
was not in her chum's car. "Please don't get out of sight of Ruth's car,
Mr. Meyers," Bab urged her companion. But he paid not the slightest
attention to her request.

Bab looked anxiously back over the road. Now and then she could see Mr.
A. Bubble's lamps; more often Ruth's car was out of sight. Patience was
not Barbara's strong point.

"Harriet," she protested, "Won't you ask Mr. Meyers to slow down so that
Ruth can follow him. He will not pay the least attention to me."

"What is your hurry, Charlie!" asked Harriet, in a most provoking tone.
She knew the young fellow was not a gentleman, and that he was showing
his anger against her by making them all uncomfortable. But Harriet was
in a wicked humor herself, and she would not try to appease their cross
host. She was having an extremely pleasant time with Peter Dillon, and
really did not realize Ruth's difficulties.

The front car slowed imperceptibly, then hurried on again.

At about half past ten o'clock, Mr. Meyers turned into one of the narrow
old-fashioned streets of the town of Alexandria, which is just south-west
of Washington. The town was only dimly lighted and the roads made winding
turns, so that it was impossible to see any great distance ahead.

Ruth had managed to keep her car going, though she had long since lost
her sweet temper, and the others of her party were very angry.

"It serves us right," Hugh Post declared to Ruth. "We ought never to have
accepted this fellow's invitation. I knew he wasn't a gentleman, and I
know Mr. Hamlin does not wish Harriet to have anything to do with him.
Yet, just because the fellow is enormously rich and gives automobile
parties, here we have been spending the evening as his guests. Look here,
Ruth, do you think I can forget I have enjoyed his hospitality, and
punch his head for him when we get back to Washington, for leading you on
a chase like this?"

Ruth smiled and shook her head. She was seldom nervous about her
automobile after all her experiences as chauffeur. Yet this wild ride at
night through towns of which she knew little or nothing, was not exactly
her idea of sport.

Mr. Bubble was again outdistanced. As the streets were deserted, Ruth
decided to make one more violent spurt in an effort to catch up with the
front car. Poor Mr. A. Bubble who had traveled so far with his carload of
happy girls was shaking from side to side. But Ruth did not think of
danger. Alexandria is a sleepy old Southern t