The Motor Girls on Waters Blue
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Margaret Penrose >> The Motor Girls on Waters Blue
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12 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 car
swung around to the side entrance of the house, and came to a stop,
with a whining, screeching and, generally protesting sound of the
brake-bands. A girl, bronzed by the summer sun, let her gloved hands
fall from the steering wheel, for she had driven fast, and was tired.
The motor ceased its humming, and, with a click, the girl locked the
ignition 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 the
bottom step, and gazed back over the valley, which the high-setting
house commanded, in a magnificent view.
The leaves of the forest trees had been touched, gently as yet, by
the withering fingers of coming winter, and the browns, reds, golden
ambers, purples and flame colors ran riot under the hazy light of an
October sun, slowly sinking to rest.
"It was a shame to go alone, on this simply perfect day," murmured
the autoist, as she drew off one glove to tuck back under her
motoring cap a rebellious lock of hair. "But I couldn't get a single
one of the girls on the wire," she continued. "Oh, I just hate to go
in, while there's a moment of daylight left!"
She stood on the porch, against a background of white pillars, facing
the golden west, that every moment, under the now rapidly appearing
tints 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 wanting
that worsted, and if we are to play bridge tonight, I must help Nancy
get the rooms in some kind of shape."
As Cora entered the vestibule, she heard a voice from the hall inside
saying:
"Oh, here she is now!"
"Bess Robinson!" murmured Cora. "And she said she couldn't come
motoring with me. I wonder how she found time to run over?"
Cora Hung open the door to confront her chum Bess or, to be more
correct, Elizabeth Robinson--the brown-haired, "plump", girl--she who
was known as the "big" Robinson twin--the said Bess being rather out
of 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 was
all due to her exceeding--plumpness--to use a "nice" word.
"Oh, Cora!" exclaimed Bess. "I've been waiting so long for you! I
thought you'd never come! I--I--"
"There, my dear, don't excite yourself. Accidents will happen in the
best of manicured families, and you simply must do something--take
more exercise--eat less--did you every try rolling over and over on
the, floor after each meal? One roll for each course, you know," and Cora
smiled tantalizingly as she removed her other glove, and proceeded to
complete the restoration of her hair to something approaching the modern
style--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, and
how we promised never, never to use it--at least as commonly as they
did! We never realized how it sounded until we heard them."
"Oh, Cora, do stop. I've such a lot to tell you!" and Bess laid a
plump and rosy palm over the smiling lips of her hostess.
"So I gathered, Bess, from your manner. But you must not be in such
a hurry. This is evidently going to be a mile run, and not a hundred
yard dash, as Jack would say. So come in, sit down, get comf'y, wait
until you and your breath--are on speaking terms, and I'll listen.
But first I want to tell you all that happen to me. Why didn't you
come for a spin? It was glorious! Perfectly 'magnificent!"
"Oh, Cora, I wanted so much to come, you know I did. But I was out
when you 'phoned, and mamma is so upset, and the house is in such a
state--really I was glad to run out, and come over here. We are
going--"
"My turn first, Bess dear. You should have been with me. In the
first place, I had a puncture, and you'll never in the world guess
who helped me take off the shoe--"
"Your shoe, Cora!"
"No, silly! The tire shoe. But you'd never guess, so I'll tell you.
It was Sid Wilcox!"
"That fellow who made so much trouble--"
"Yes, and who do you think was with him?"
"Oh, Ida Giles, of course. That's easy."
"No, it was Angelina Mott!"
"What, sentimental Angie?"
"The same. I can't imagine how in the world she ever took up with Sid
enough to go motoring."
"Say, rather, how he took up with her. Sid is much nicer than he used
to be, and they say his new six-cylinder is a beautiful car."
"So it is, my dear, but I prefer to select my chauffeur--the car
doesn't so much matter. Well, anyhow, Sid was very nice. He offered
to put in a new inner tube for me, and of course I wasn't going to
refuse. So Angelina and I sat in the shade, while poor Sid labored.
And the shoe was gummed on, so he had no easy task. But I will say
this for him--he didn't even once hint that there was a garage not
far off. Wasn't that nice?"
"Brave and noble Sid!"
"Yes, wasn't he, Bess? But I don't want to exhaust all my eloquence
and powers of description on a mere puncture."
"Oh, Cora! Did anything else happen?" and Bess, who had followed her
chum into the library of the Kimball home, sank down, almost
breathless once more, into the depths of a deep, easy chair.
"There you go again!" laughed Cora, laying aside her cap and veil.
"I'll have to pull you out of that, Bess, when you want to get up.
Why do you always select that particular chair, of all others?"
"It's so nice and soft, Cora. Besides, I can get up myself, thank
you," and, with an assumption of dignity that did not at all accord
with her plump and merry countenance and figure, Bess Robinson tried
to arise.
But, as Cora had said, she needed help. The chair was of such a
depth that one's center of gravity was displaced, if you wish the
scientific explanation.
"Now don't you dare lean back again!" warned Cora, as her chum sat on
the springy edge of the chair, in a listening attitude. "To resume,
as the lecturer in chemistry says, after Sid had so obligingly fixed
the puncture, I started off again, for mamma wanted some worsted and
I had offered to run into town to get it for her. The next thing
that happened to me, Bess dear, I saw the nicest young man, and ran
right into--"
"Not into him, Cora! Don't tell me you hurt anyone!" cried Bess,
covering her face with her hands or at least, trying to, for her
hands were hardly large enough for the completion of the task.
"No, I didn't run into him, Bess, though there was a dog--but that's
another story."
"Oh, Cora! I do wish you'd finish one thing at a time. And that
reminds me--"
"Wait, Bess, dear. I didn't run into the young man, but he bowed to
me, and I turned around to make sure who he was, for at first I
thought him a perfect stranger, and I was going to cut him. In my
excitement, I ran right into a newly oiled place on the road, and,
before I knew it, I was skidding something awful! Before I could
reach the emergency brake, I had run sideways right against the
curbing, and it's a mercy I didn't split a rim. And the young man
ran over--"
"Oh, Cora Kimball! I'll never get my news in, if I don't interrupt
you right here and now!" cried Bess. "Listen, my dear! I simply
must tell, you. It's what I ran over for, and I know you can't have
had any serious accident, and look as sweet as you do now--it's
impossible!"
"Thanks!" murmured Cora, with a mock bow. "After that, I must yield
the floor to you. Go on, Bess. What is it? Has some one stolen
your car, or have you discovered a new kind of chocolate candy? I
wish I had some now; I'm simply starved! You have no idea how
bracing and appetizing the air is. What was I telling you about?"
"Never mind, Cora. It's my turn. You can't guess what has
happened."
"And I'm not going to try, for I know you're just dying to tell me.
Go on. I'm listening," and Cora sat on a stool at the feet of her
chum.
"Well, it would take too long to tell it all, but what would you say,
if I went on a long sea voyage this winter?"
"What would I say? Why, my dear, I'd say that it was simply perfectly
magnificent! It sounds like--like a wedding tour, almost. A sea voyage.
Oh, Bess, do tell me!" and Cora leaned forward eagerly, expectantly.
"Are you really going?"
"It seems so, yes. Belle and I shall have to go if papa carries out
his plans, and takes mamma to the West Indies. You see it's like
this. He has--"
A knock came at the door. Cora turned her head quickly, and called:
"Come in!"
A maid entered, bearing on a silver server a note, the manila
envelope of which proclaimed it as a telegraph message.
"Oh, a telegram!"' gasped Cora, and her fingers trembled, in spite of
her, as she opened it.
She gave a hasty glance at the written words, and then cried:
"Oh, it was for mother, but the envelope had 'Miss Kimball' on it.
However, it doesn't matter, and I'm glad I opened it first. Oh,
dear!"
"Bad news?" asked Bess, softly.
"It's about my brother Jack," said Cora, and there was a sob in her
voice. "He has suffered a nervous breakdown, and will have to leave
college at once!"
CHAPTER II
MORE NEWS
"Oh, Cora!" murmured Bess, rising from, the chair, and it was with no
easy effort that she did so, for she had allowed herself to sink back
again into its luxurious depths. "Oh, Cora dear! Isn't that perfectly
dreadful!"
Cora Kimball did not answer. She was staring at the fateful
telegram, reading it over and over again; the words now meaningless
to her. But she had grasped their import with the first swift
glance. Jack was ill--in trouble.
Bess put her arms around her chum, and slipped one plump hand up on
the tresses tangled by the wind on the motor ride.
"Can I do anything to help--your mother is she--"
"Of course!" exclaimed Cora with a sigh. "I must tell mother at
once. Yes, she's at home, Bess. Will you--do you mind coming with
me?"
"Of course not, my dear. I wouldn't think of letting you go alone to
tell her. Is the telegram from jack himself?"
No, it's from Walter Pennington. Walter says a letter
follows--special delivery."
"Oh, then you'll get it soon! Perhaps it isn't so bad as you think.
Dear Walter is so good!"
"Isn't he?" agreed Cora, murmuringly. "I sha'n't worry so much about
Jack, now that I know Wally is with him. Oh, but if he has to leave
college--"
Cora did not finish. Together she and Bess left the library, seeking
Mrs. Kimball, to impart to her the sudden and unwelcome news. And
so, when there is a moment or two, during which nothing of
chronicling interest is taking place, my dear readers may be glad of
a little explanation regarding Cora Kimball and her chums, and also a
word or two concerning the previous books of this series.
Cora Kimball was the real leader of the motor girls. She was, by
nature, destined for such a position, and the fact that she, of all
her chums, was the first to possess an automobile, added to her
prestige. In the first volume of this series, entitled "The Motor
Girls," I had the pleasure of telling how, amid many other
adventures, Cora, and her chums, Bess and Belle Robinson, helped to
solve the mystery of a twenty thousand dollar loss.
Cora, Bess and Belle were real girl chums, but they never knew all,
the delights of chumship until they "went in" for motoring. Living
in the New England town of Chelton, on the Chelton River, life had
been rather hum-drum, until the advent of the "gasoline gigs" as
Jack, Cora's brother, slangily dubbed them. Jack, with whose
fortunes we shall concern ourselves at more length presently, had a
car of his own--one strictly limited to two--a low-slung red and
yellow racing car, "giddy and gaudy," Cora called it.
Later on, the Robinson twins also became possessed of an automobile,
and then followed many delightful trips.
"The Motor Girls on a Tour," the second volume of the series, tells
in detail of many surprising happenings, which were added to, and
augmented, at "Lookout Beach."
Through New England the girls went, after their rather strenuous
times at the seaside, and you may be sure Cora Kimball was in the
forefront of all the happenings on that rather remarkable run.
Perhaps the most romantic of all the occurrences that befell the
girls were the series at Cedar Lake. There, indeed, were Cora and
her chums put to a supreme test, and that they emerged, tried and
true, will not be surprising news to those of you who really know the
motor maids.
As another summer followed the green spring, so adventures followed
our friends, and those on the coast were in no whit tamer than
previous happenings. Once again did Cora prove that she could "do
things," if such proof were needed.
"The Motor Girls on Crystal Bay, Or The Secret of the Red Oar," is
the title of the book immediately preceding this one.
It would hardly be fair to tell you, bold-facedly, what the "secret"
was. I would not like a book spoiled for me that way, and I am sure
you will agree with me.
But when Cora and her friends made the acquaintance of sad little
Freda Lewis, and later on of Denny Shane, the picturesque old
fisherman, they had the beginnings of the mysterious secret. And in
solving it, they bested the land-sharpers, and came upon the real
knowledge of the value of the red oar.
Those incidents had taken place during the summer. Autumn had come,
with its shorter days, its longer nights, the chill of approaching
frosts and winter, and the turning of leaves, and the girls I had
bidden farewell to the sad, salty sea waves, and had returned to
cheerful Chelton.
Cheerful Chelton--I believe I never thus alliteratively referred to
it before, but the sound falls well upon my ear. Cheerful Chelton--
indeed it was so, and though Cora and her chums had enjoyed
themselves to the utmost at Crystal Bay and in so enjoying had done
it noble service still they were glad to get back.
And now--
I beg your pardon! I really am forgetting, the boys, and as they
always have, and seem always destined to play in important part in
the lives of the girls, perhaps I had better introduce them in due
form.
To begin with, though not to end with, there was Cora's brother Jack.
Like all other girls' brothers was Jack--a tease at times, but of
sterling worth in hours of distress and trouble.
Jack was a junior at Exmouth College, but, bless you! that is not
nearly as important as it sounds, and none of my new readers need be
on their dignity; or assume false society manners with Jack. For I
warn them, if they do, the thin veneer will very soon be scratched
off. A true boy was Jack!
So was his chum, Walter Pennington--"Wally," the girls often called
him, though it was not at all an effeminate term of endearment.
Walter gave exactly the opposite impression from that. Besides, he
was too athletic (which you could tell the moment you looked at him)
to further such associations.
Other young men there were, Ed Foster, in particular, who often went
motoring with the girls, to make the third male member which caused
the little parties to "come out even."
Occasionally Paul Hastings, and his sister Hazel, would be included,
but, of late, Paul had been too busy setting up an automobile
business of his own, to ride with his friends.
So much for the boys--though there were more of them, but we need not
concern ourselves with them at present.
Bess and Belle Robinson were the daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Perry
Robinson--the "rich"' Mr. Robinson, as he was called, to distinguish
him from another, and more humble, though none the less worthy,
citizen of Chelton. Bess and Belle had nearly everything they
wanted--which list was not a small one. But mostly they wanted Cora
Kimball, and they looked up to her, deferred to her and loved her,
with a devotion that comes only from sweet association since early
childhood.
"Cheerful Chelton!" Somehow I cannot seem to forego the temptation
of using that expression again. It was a typical New England
village, the nearness of it to New York not having spoiled it.
Of late, the invasion of many automobiles had threatened to turn it
into a "popular" resort. There was already one garage, and another
in building, and to the trained and experienced motorist, no more
need be said.
It was to Chelton that Cora Kimball and her chums had returned,
following their summer at Crystal Bay. Cora, after trying in vain to
get some of her chums, by telephone, to come for a little motor run
with her, had gone alone, coming back to find Best at her home, when
the events narrated in the initial chapter took place.
Now the two girls were on their way upstairs to impart the news
contained in the telegram, to Mrs. Kimball.
"Do you--do you think she'll faint?" asked Bess.
"No--of course not! Mother isn't of the fainting sort," replied
Cora, for Mrs. Kimball, a widow since her boy and girl were little
children, was used to meeting emergencies bravely and calmly.
"I wonder what could have happened to Jack?" mused Bess, as they
reached the upper hall. "Do you suppose he could have been hurt
playing football, Cora?"
"I don't see how. The season hasn't really opened yet, and they play
only light games at first. Besides, Jack has played before, and
knows how to take care of himself. I can't imagine what it is--a
nervous breakdown."
"Probably Wally's letter will tell."
"I hope so. Oh, but, Bess, I didn't hear your news. You must tell
me all about it, my dear."
"I will--when this excitement is over."
Mrs. Kimball received the news calmly--that is, calmly after a first
sharp in-taking of breath and a spasmodic motion toward her heart.
For Jack was very dear to her.
"Well, my dears, we must hope for the best," she said, cheerfully, to
the girls. "Fortunately, his room is in order, which is more than can
be said for it when he went away. Cora, can look up trains, or,
better still, ask the station agent when one might get in from
Exmouth. Probably Walter will bring Jack home as soon as he can.
"It can't be so very serious, or Walter would have so specified in
his telegram. I am anxious to get his letter, however. You might
call up the post-office, Cora, and find out when the next mail gets
in. Then you could go down in your car and get the special. That
will be quicker than waiting for the boy to come up on his bicycle
with it. Often he has half a dozen letters to deliver, and he might
be delayed coming to us."
"I'll do that, Mother. You seem to think of everything!" and Cora
threw her arms about the neck of the gray-haired lady, in whose eyes
there was a troubled look, though neither in voice nor manner did she
betray it.
"I can't imagine Jack ill," murmured Bess.
"Nor I," said Cora. "He has always been so strong and healthful. If
only it isn't some accident--"
"Don't suggest it!" begged Bess. "Shall I come with you to the
station, Cora?"
"I'd like to have you, dear, if you can spare the time."
"As if I wouldn't make time for such a thing as this. Come, do your
telephoning, and we'll go."
Cora learned that no train which Jack could possibly get would arrive
until very late that afternoon, but at the post-office it was said a
mail would be in within the hour, and there was a chance that the
special delivery letter would be on it.
"We'll go and see," decided Cora, now again a girl of action.
"And on your way, Cora dear," requested her mother, "stop at Dr.
Blake's office, and ask him to meet the train Jack comes on. While I
anticipate nothing serious, it is best to be on the safe side, and
Jack may be in a state of collapse after his trip. You had better
explain to Dr. Blake, rather than telephone."
"Yes, mother. Now are you sure you'll be all right?"
"Oh, certainly. I am not alone, with the servants here. Besides,
John is just outside, trimming the lawn paths. You won't be long."
"No longer than we can help. Come on, Bess. Oh! and now you'll have
a chance to tell me what you started to."'
"Oh! It isn't so much, Cora. In fact, I don't like to mention my
pleasure, after hearing of your trouble."
"Then it's pleasure?"
"Yes, Belle seems to think so."
"Did you mention the West Indies?"
"Yes, father has to go to Porto Rico on business, and we are going to
make a winter cruise of it. Mamma and we girls are going, and what I
came over to ask you--"
The voice of Bess was rather lost in the throb of the motor as Cora
thrust over the lever of the self-starter. As the two girls settled
themselves in the seat, Bess resumed:
"I came over to ask if you couldn't go with us, Cora? Can't you come
on a winter's cruise to where there is no snow or ice, and where the
waters are blue--so blue?"
"Come with you?" gasped Cora.
"Yes. Papa and mamma specially asked me to come and invite you. Oh,
Cora, do say you'll go! It will be such fun!"
"I'd love to, Bess," said Cora, after a moment's thought. "But
there's poor Jack, you know. I shall probably have to stay home and
nurse him. I can't leave mother all alone."
"Oh, Cora!" murmured Bess, in disappointed tones.
CHAPTER III
THE LACE SELLER
Cora, Bess and Belle were sitting on the broad, long porch of the
Kimball home. It was the next day. To be exact, the day following
the imparting of Cora's news to Bess, of her automobile mishaps, the
day of the news which Bess retailed to her friend and chum,
concerning the trip to the West Indies, and the still more news, if I
may be permitted the expression, of Jack's sudden illness.
Cora and Bess had gone to the post-office to get the expected special
delivery letter, stopping on their way to speak to Dr. Blake, who had
agreed to meet any train on which the stricken Jack might be
expected. But, as it happened, his services were not required that
night, for Jack did not arrive.
To go back a little bit, from the point where we have left the three
girls sitting on the porch, Cora and Bess did find the special
delivery letter awaiting them in the post-office.
"And I'm glad you called for it," said Harry Moss, whose duty it was
to deliver the blue stamped epistles, "for I've got a lot of 'em
this afternoon, and your place is out of my route, Miss Cora."
"All right, Harry," spoke Cora, half-hearing. She was already tearing
open the envelope, as the messenger rode off on his wheel, certainly
at a pace to justify the old proverb that he was a rolling stone,
even if he had already gathered moss.
"Is it from Walter?" asked Bess.
"Yes, and it isn't as bad as we feared. Jack over-trained, trying
for a new position on the football eleven, and that, with some extra
studies he undertook, reduced his already tingling nerves to a
condition where he was not at all himself."
"A long rest and a change will set him up again in fine style,"
Walter wrote. "There is no need worrying, Cora," for he had written
to her, rather than to Mrs. Kimball, relying on Cora's discretion to
explain matters.
"I am bringing Jack home, and we'll come on the early afternoon
train, Thursday. There is no great need of haste."
It was now Thursday, just after lunch, and the girls were waiting at
Cora's house to go down with her, or, rather one of them (to be
decided later) to meet Jack and Walter. There was no need of a
physician to help Jack home, though Dr. Blake promised his services
when the sufferer should have been safely quartered in his own room.
"Isn't it good of Wally to come home with him?" ventured Belle,
thoughtfully gazing at her long, thin hands, that were still tanned
by the summer's sun.
"Perfectly fine!" exclaimed Cora. "Oh, you can always depend on
Wally," and her eyes lightened up.
"So you can, too, on Jack, for that matter," voiced Bess, warmly.
Bess was, of late, generally regarded as having more than a mere
chum's sisterly feeling for Jack.
"I suppose he'll lose a term," remarked Belle.
"Too bad, I say."
"Better that than lose your health," declared Cora, as she put back a
strand of hair that would persist in straying out from under her cap,
for she, as well as the others, were attired for motoring, the
Robinson twins, in fact, having come over in their car.
"Oh, Cora! I think you look so different with your hair in that new
close formation!" declared Bess. "I wish I could get mine to lie
down flat at the sides, and over my ears. How do you do it?"
"Whisper--it's a secret," said Cora, smiling. "I found a new kind of
hairpin when I was shopping the other day."
"Oh, do show us!" begged Belle. "I was going to have the permanent
wave put in mine, but it costs twenty-five dollars, and it's awfully
tiring, Hazel said. Besides, I think it's getting rather--common."
"Do show us, Cora!" begged Bess.
"Come inside. I'm not going to turn the porch into a hair-dressing
parlor for demonstrations," laughed Cora. "It won't take a minute to
show you how to do I it, and we have plenty of time before Jack's
train is due."
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