Produced by Sean Pobuda
THE MOTOR GIRLS ON WATERS BLUE
Or
The Strange Cruise of The Tartar
By Margaret Penrose
CHAPTER I
NEWS
With a crunching of the small stones in the gravel drive, the big carswung around to the side entrance of the house, and came to a stop,with a whining, screeching and, generally protesting sound of thebrake-bands. A girl, bronzed by the summer sun, let her gloved handsfall from the steering wheel, for she had driven fast, and was tired.The motor ceased its humming, and, with a click, the girl locked theignition switch as she descended.
"Oh, what a run! What a glorious run, and on a most glorious day!"she breathed in a half whisper, as she paused for a moment on thebottom step, and gazed back over the valley, which the high-settinghouse commanded, in a magnificent view.
The leaves of the forest trees had been touched, gently as yet, bythe withering fingers of coming winter, and the browns, reds, goldenambers, purples and flame colors ran riot under the hazy light of anOctober sun, slowly sinking to rest.
"It was a shame to go alone, on this simply perfect day," murmuredthe autoist, as she drew off one glove to tuck back under hermotoring cap a rebellious lock of hair. "But I couldn't get a singleone of the girls on the wire," she continued. "Oh, I just hate to goin, while there's a moment of daylight left!"
She stood on the porch, against a background of white pillars, facingthe golden west, that every moment, under the now rapidly appearingtints of the sunset, seemed like some magically growing painting.
"Well, I can't stand here admiring nature!" exclaimed Cora Kimball,with a sudden descent to the commonplace. "Mother will be wantingthat worsted, and if we are to play bridge tonight, I must help Nancyget the rooms in some kind of shape."
As Cora entered the vestibule, she heard a voice from the hall insidesaying:
"Oh, here she is now!"
"Bess Robinson!" murmured Cora. "And she said she couldn't comemotoring with me. I wonder how she found time to run over?"
Cora Hung open the door to confront her chum Bess or, to be morecorrect, Elizabeth Robinson—the brown-haired, "plump", girl—she whowas known as the "big" Robinson twin—the said Bess being rather outof breath from her rapid exit from the parlor to the hall.
As might be surmised, it did not take much to put Bess out of breath,or, to be still more exact, to put the breath out of Bess. It wasall due to her exceeding—plumpness—to use a "nice" word.
"Oh, Cora!" exclaimed Bess. "I've been waiting so long for you! Ithought you'd never come! I—I—"
"There, my dear, don't excite yourself. Accidents will happen in thebest of manicured families, and you simply must do something—takemore exercise—eat less—did you every try rolling over and over onthe floor after each meal? One roll for each course, you know," and Corasmiled tantalizingly as she removed her other glove, and proceeded tocomplete the restoration of her hair to something approaching the modernstyle—which task she had essayed while on the porch.
"Well, Cora Kimball, I like your—!"
"No slang, Bess dear. Remember those girls we met this summer, andhow we promised never, never to use it—at least as commonly as theydid! We never realized how it sounded until we heard them."
"Oh, Cora, do stop. I've such a