The automobile, its hood crushed in like so much paper, had skidded into the same ditch in which Peggy lay, and bumped into a small tree which it had snapped clean off.  But the obstacle had stopped it.

One wheel lay in the roadway.  Evidently it had come off while the machine was at top speed, and caused the crash.  But Peggy noted all these things automatically.  She was looking about her for Roy.

From a clump of bushes close by there came a low groan of pain.  The girl sprang erect instantly, forgetting her own bruises and shaken nerves in this sign that her brother was in pain.  In the meantime, Fanning and Regina Mortlake had stopped and turned the Blue Bird.  They came back to the scene of the wreck with every expression of concern on their faces.

Roy lay white and still in the midst of the brush into which he had been hurled.  There was a great cut across his forehead, and in reply to Peggy’s anxious inquiries, the lad, who was conscious, said that he thought that his ankle had been broken.  Peggy touched the ankle he indicated, and light as her fingers fell upon it, the boy uttered an anguished moan.

“Oh, gee, Peg!” he cried bravely, screwing up his face in his endeavor not to make an outcry, “that hurts like blazes.”

“Poor boy,” breathed Peggy tenderly, “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m so glad you’re not hurt, Sis,” said the boy, “I don’t matter much.  I wish you could stop this bleeding above my eye, though.”

Peggy ripped off a flounce of her petticoat and formed it into a bandage.

“Can I help.  I’m so sorry.”

The voice was Fanning Harding’s.  He stood behind her with Regina at his side.

“Oh, how dreadful.” exclaimed the dark-eyed girl, with a shudder, “my—­my poor car.”

“And my poor brother,” snapped out Peggy, indignantly, “if it hadn’t been for your stupid idea of racing this wouldn’t have happened.  I just knew we’d have an accident.”

“It’s too bad,” repeated Fanning, “but can’t I do something?”

“Yes, get me some water.  There’s a brook a little way down this road.  You’ll find a tin cup under the rear seat in our machine.”

Fanning, perhaps glad to escape Peggy’s righteous anger, hastened off on the errand.  Regina flounced down on a stone by the roadside and moaned.

“Oh, this is fearful.  Why can’t we get a doctor?  Oh, my poor car.  It will never be the same again.”

“Nonsense,” said Peggy, sharply, “it can easily be repaired.  But you don’t think I’m worrying about your car now, do you?”

“I don’t know, I’m sure,” quavered Regina, “I know it’s all terrible.  Is your brother badly hurt?”

“No.  Fortunately he only has this cut in his head and a broken ankle.  It might have been far worse.”

Regina wandered away.  Somehow she felt that Peggy had taken a sudden dislike to her.  She sauntered toward the car.  Suddenly she stopped and her large eyes grew larger.  In the middle of the road, just as they had been hurled from Roy’s pocket, lay a side-comb studded with brilliants and an old battered wallet.