



Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
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THE MOTOR GIRLS
ON CRYSTAL BAY

Or
The Secret of the Red Oar

By
MARGARET PENROSE

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Copyright, 1914, by
Cupples & Leon Company

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER                             PAGE
     I.  A Worried Girl                1
    II.  Freda'S Story                15
   III.  Crystal Bay                  26
    IV.  The Red Oar                  36
     V.  Two Men                      47
    VI.  The "Chelton"                55
   VII.  In The Motely Mote           67
  VIII.  Frights Or Fancies           76
    IX.  A Merry Time                 83
     X.  Too Much Joy                 93
    XI.  The Rescue                  102
   XII.  The Calm                    109
  XIII.  Suspicion                   120
   XIV.  An Angry Druggist           129
    XV.  An Alarm                    141
   XVI.  A Bad Case Of Nerves        156
  XVII.  A Little Race               164
 XVIII.  More Suspicions             171
   XIX.  Odd Talk                    176
    XX.  The Night Plot              184
   XXI.  The Breakdown               196
  XXII.  At The Cabin                202
 XXIII.  Unexpected Help             208
  XXIV.  Denny'S Soliloquy           214
   XXV.  The Plotters Arrive         220
  XXVI.  Cora'S Brave Resolve        227
 XXVII.  The Red Oar Again           235
XXVIII.  The Discovery--Conclusion   241

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THE MOTOR GIRLS ON CRYSTAL BAY

CHAPTER I

A WORRIED GIRL


Four girls sat on four chairs, in four different corners of the room.
They sat on the chairs because they were really too tired to stand
longer, and the reason for the occupancy of the corners of the
apartment was self-evident. There was no other available space. For
the center of the chamber was littered to overflowing with trunks,
suitcases and valises, in various stages of being packed, and from
them overflowed a variety of garments and other accessories of a
journey.

"Oh, dear!" sighed Cora Kimball, as she gazed helplessly about, "will
we ever be finished, Bess?"

"I don't know," was the equally discouraging reply. "It doesn't seem
so; does it?"

"I'm sure I can't get another thing in my suitcase," spoke the
smallest girl of all, who seemed to shrink back rather timidly into
her corner, as though she feared she might be put into a trunk by
mistake.

"Oh, Marita! You simply must get more in your suitcase!" exclaimed
Cora, starting up. "Why, your trunk won't begin to hold all the rest
of your things unless you crowd more into the case."

"The only trouble, Cora," sighed Marita, "is that the sides and top
aren't made of rubber."

"There's an idea!" cried a plump girl, in the corner nearest the
piano. "A rubber suitcase! What a boon it would be for week-ends, when
one starts off with a Spartan resolution to take only one extra gown,
and ends up with slipping two party dresses and the 'fixings' into
one's trunk. Oh, for a rubber suitcase!"

"What's the sense in sighing after the impossible?" asked the girl
opposite the plump one. "Why don't you finish packing, Bess?"

"Why don't you?" and the plump one rather glared at her more frail
questioner.

"Now, sisters!" cautioned Cora, as she gazed at the Robinson twins,
"don't get on one another's nerves. Let's have another try at it. I'm
sure if we go at it with some sort of system we'll be able to get all
the things in. And really we must hurry!" she exclaimed, looking at
the clock on the mantel, which pointed to the hour of four. "I
promised to have all the baggage ready for the man at five. That only
gives us an hour----"

"Cora Kimball!"

"Only an hour!"

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Thus the three girls exclaimed in startled tones as they fairly leaped
from their chairs in their respective corners, and caught up various
garments.

Then, as the apparent hopelessness of the situation overcame them
again, they looked at one another, at the trunks and suitcases that
already held their fair share of articles, at the accumulation on the
floor, and then they sighed in concert.

"It's no use," spoke Bess Robinson. "I'm not going at all--at least
not now. I'm going to take another day to sort out the things I really
don't need."

"You can't!" exclaimed Cora. "Our tickets are bought, the bungalow is
engaged, and we leave for Crystal Bay on the morning train, if we have
to ship this whole room by freight--just as it is!"

"Perhaps that would be the easiest way," suggested timid Marita
Osborne.

"It certainly would create a sensation in Chelton," murmured Belle, as
she looked at her plump sister. "But come, we really must help you,
Cora. It's too bad we took advantage of your good nature, and brought
our things here to pack. We might better have done it at our own
homes."

"No, I think you'll find my way best in the end," said Cora, with a
smile, as she looked about for a place in which to pack her sweater.
"By doing this we won't duplicate on the extras. Now, girls, try once
more. Marita, let's begin on your suitcase, for that seems to be the
smallest. Oh, dear, Bess, what are you doing now?" she called, as she
noted an unusual activity on the part of the plump girl.

"I'm just seeing if I'm heavy enough to close the lid of my trunk,"
was the answer. "No, I'm not," she exclaimed, as she hopped on and
hopped off again.

"Look out!" called Belle. "You nearly stepped on my veil-box, Bess."

"Sorry, Sis, but you shouldn't leave it on the floor."

The plump one stood looking at the bulging trunk, and then drew a long
breath.

"Girls!" she cried, "I'm losing weight."

"How do you know?" asked her sister promptly.

"Couldn't close my trunk lid. That's the way I can always tell.
Problem: Given a trunk, which requires a force of one hundred and
thirty-five pounds to close down the lid, and a girl of one hundred
and fifteen, how many chocolates must the said girl eat before she is
heavy enough to close the lid? Answer--one pound, and here's for a
starter," saying which pretty, plump Bess rummaged in a pile of her
belongings until she found what she was after. Then, sinking down in a
heap of silk petticoats she began munching bonbons with a contented
air.

"Bess Robinson!" gasped Cora. "You're never going to do that; are
you?"

"Do what?" came with an innocent air.

"Sit there and eat chocolates until you're heavy enough to close down
the lid of your trunk."

"I might as well. I can't check it open that way, and I can't close it
at my present weight. I need everything I've squeezed into it; and so
what else can I do?"

"If we could only get someone to help us," said Marita, innocently,
seeming to take Bess literally. "One of the boys----"

She was interrupted by the laughter of the others, for Marita was a
newcomer in Chelton, and though Cora and her chums had taken her up,
attracted by her nice ways, Marita did not yet appreciate her new
friends.

"Don't mind what Bess says, my dear," spoke Cora, as she saw that
Marita was a little hurt at the laughter. "As for the boys, please
don't suggest such a thing. If they came in now, we'd never get
through packing. I hope----"

"All hope abandon, ye who enter here!" declaimed a voice in the
doorway, and the faces of two young men peered in.

"Too late!" exclaimed Cora, as she saw her brother Jack and his chum,
Walter Pennington. "The boys are here! Any more of you, Jack?" she
asked, as she crowded some feminine finery out of sight behind her
back.

"No. Why?"

"Because I'm going to give general orders for you to depart at once,
and I want to include everyone. Begone!"

"Heartless one!" murmured Walter, sliding into the room under Jack's
arm. "Just when we came to help you, too!"

"Here!" called Bess, from her position, Turkish fashion, amid a
billowy pile of garments, "Help me up first, Wallie, my dear, and then
sit on my trunk."

"Why, is that the throne seat?" he asked, as he extended his hand, and
pretended to find it extremely difficult to lift Bess to her feet.

"No, but the lid needs closing, and I can't do it. Sit on it, that's a
good fellow," and she extended to him a chocolate from the tips of her
fingers, which fingers Walter pretended to bite.

"Now you really must go," said Cora, seriously, when Walter had
managed to close the trunk. "Come, Jack, we have to get through by
five o'clock," and she glanced at her brother, who was in earnest
conversation with Marita in her corner.

Jack paid no attention to his sister, and Walter was somewhat
surprised to see Bess, after looking with satisfaction at the trunk he
had closed for her, open it again.

"Well, I like that!" he exclaimed, with pretended indignation, "after
me nearly breaking my back to close that lid----"

"I just wanted the things compressed, Walter dear," said Bess,
sweetly. "I've got a lot more to put in, and I couldn't squeeze in
another piece until they had been crowded down a bit. Now run along,
little boy."

"Come on, Jack!" called Walter, as he turned to go. "We have been
insulted!"

"They can't insult me," murmured Jack, never turning to look at his
chum. "Don't be so thin-skinned, Wal. I'm having a good time."

Cora's girl chums looked at her.

"Jack, you must go!" she insisted. "Please do. I should think you boys
would have lots to do to get ready, too."

"All done, Sis," murmured Jack. "We always travel in light marching
order, and sleep on our arms," and he bent closer to the blushing
Marita.

Cora bit her lip. Really she was provoked at Jack this time. She and
her chums were in the midst of packing for their annual Summer trip,
and to be interrupted this way, at the last critical moment, was
provoking.

"Jack!" she began. "I shall tell mother----"

"What's he been doing now?" asked a new voice, and with a gesture of
despair Cora turned to see another young man in the doorway.

"Come on in, Ed," called Jack. "Didn't know you were in town. You're
just in time to assist."

"What's it all about?" asked the newcomer. "Are you going or coming?"
he inquired, as he looked at the partially-filled suitcases and
trunks.

"Both," answered Walter. "You're coming and they're going."

"Good!" was the comment. "Hello, Cora--Bess--Belle----" He paused as
he nodded to each of the girls, and looked questioningly at Marita in
the corner with Jack.

"Oh, excuse me," murmured Cora. "Miss Osborne, let me present to you
Mr. Edward Foster--just plain Ed, mostly."

"The plainer the better," observed the newcomer, as he bowed to
Marita. "But what's it all about, Jack?--No,