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The Chelton well, I gave her a try-out a while ago, and I know what she can do." "Oh, do you?" thought Cora. "Perhaps you don't." "I have to laugh when I think how I took those girls in," went on Bruce. "I pretending that I was a stranger in these waters, and they kindly offering to pilot me. I guess they took me for some society swell of Bayhead." "The mean thing!" hissed Lottie.
Don't you think so, fellows?" he asked. "Not only liable, but accountable," added Ed. "Of course we will go home and dress. I wonder what on earth the squall did to headquarters?" he asked, suddenly realizing that the camp had had need of secure moorings during the last two hours. "Let's look," suggested Dray, who had now moored the Dixie securely, while Jack and Cora had attended to the Chelton.
Do you think there is any possibility of us failing to get back?" "Tom knows no end of short cuts," said Duncan, settling himself down comfortably. "We take quite a different route to that which you girls came over." "Oh, yes, of course. We could never get to Chelton and back in one day over the roads which we came by," replied Cora.
"Oh, of course, but then I thought this was only in fun." "It's a race for keeps," announced Cora. "And I think we'll win. That last gasoline we got is the best we ever had. It gives us more power, and the Chelton is running like a sewing machine, as Jack says. I think we're going to win!" She opened the throttle a little wider and the Chelton responded instantly.
She did not remember having seen it before, and as it drew nearer she noted that it contained but a single occupant a young man, who, as Lottie said afterward, was not at all bad-looking. The young fellow guided his boat closer to the Chelton, and after she had done making mental notes of the new craft's characteristics, Cora had an idea that the stranger wanted to speak to them.
Dray ran his boat, the Dixie, alongside, and together the fleet of two comprised what the boys termed a "White House Lunch." The cooking was all done on the Chelton and the eatables were handed over the brass rail to Lottie and Marita, who served as waitresses on the Dixie. First there were lettuce sandwiches, rolled.
Grace Kimball was a wealthy widow, a member of one of the oldest and best known families in Chelton, which was a New England town, not far from the New York boundary. Her husband had been Joseph Kimball, a man of simple tastes and sterling principles.
He must have been following me no hard task since I have traveled a slow and weary way. Zen, when he saw my valise he must have thought it his chance." "How dreadful!" murmured Bess. "To think that such things could happen in Chelton!" "And perhaps we are not at the end of them yet," said Cora, softly. "The man got away, didn't he, Belle?" "So Walter said. Oh, dear!
"Here," called Jack, "can you make it to get in here?" This was called to those in Denny's boat. "Not now!" shouted back the man. "Keep close!" The roar of the storm increased. Just as Cora had predicted, the new squall was worse than the first. For some moments all three boats tossed and tumbled as if they had neither master nor man, but it was the Chelton that righted herself first.
"They're off!" shouted the chorus from the hay wagon, and then Chelton folks were treated to a sight the like of which they had never before witnessed. It was the first official tour of the original motor girls. "No BOYS, eh?" shouted Ed from his "perch" in the hay. "Aren't they dreadful?" exclaimed Daisy with doubtful sincerity. "Hope mother doesn't hear of it," replied Maud.
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