It seemed to her that Johnny Jewel was half found before ever her dad laid down the wrench and began unscrewing the cap of the gas tank.
Like a fluttering bluebird she flew back to the house to do his bidding.

Excited she was, and worried, and more than ever inclined to exclamation points and unfinished sentences; but she was no longer panic-stricken.

She was the Mary V who would move heaven and earth and slosh all the water out of our five oceans in her headlong determination to do what she had set out to do.
In two minutes she had her mother and Bedelia rushing around like scared hens, trying to collect the things she wanted to take for Johnny's comfort and welfare.

In three she was bullying the long-distance operator.

In five she was laying down the law to the sheriff, just as though he were one of her father's cowpunchers.
"Get all the men you can," she commanded, when she had reached the details, "and scatter them like a round-up.