The Motor Girls on a Tour | Page 9

something."
Cora laughed heartily. "Why, you precious baby!" she managed to say;
"do you think boys of their caliber would tamper with the mail? To say
nothing of putting so nice a boy as Paul to inconvenience?"
"Oh, of course; forgive me, Cora. I should not have asked that. But you
know what Paul and I are to each other!"
"Yes, I know," said Cora with marked emphasis. "You are each the
other's little brother and sister. But it's nice, Hazel, very nice, and I
forgive you the fling at Jack."
"And Ed?" asked Hazel mischievously.
"And Walter," added Cora, ignoring the personal.
"Oh, mercy!" yelled Belle. "We're going to have another fire and
brimstone thunderstorm! Cora, make for that farmhouse!"
"Yes," called Cora, "I guess it will be all wind, and it won't hurt the
machines. Turn for the cottage, girls!"
Blinding and brutal, the wind and sand attacked the eyes and ears of the
motor girls, in spite of all the hoods and goggles. It was one of those

tearing windstorms, that often come in summer, seemingly bent on
raising everything on earth heavenward except the sand - that always
sought refuge under eyelids - the average grain of sand would rather get
in a girl's eye than help to make up a reputable mountain.
The line of cars made straight for the little farmhouse. It was sheltered
in a clump of pines quite near the roadside.
Bess drew up first. Belle was out, and upon the steps of the porch. She
had even struck the brass knocker before the others could bring their
machines to a stop.
"Belle is frightened," said Ray, taking her time to leave Cecilia's auto.
"Well, we had a great storm one day - and Belle has the reflex action,"
explained Cora, referring to an exciting incident told of in the first book
of this series.
The door of the cottage opened.
"Come on, girls!" called Belle. "We may come in - the lady says."
"Now - now for an adventure!" whispered Cecilia. "I can see it through
the closed blinds! I see it under the knocker. I feel it in my gloves! Yes,
young ladies, there is going to be something doing inside that cottage!"
CHAPTER IV
THE STRANGE PROMISE
When the eight young ladies marched into the little cottage it must be
admitted that each had her misgivings. What would any one think of
such a procession?
But Belle, whether from actual fright of the storm, or from some
intuitive knowledge of the circumstances, seemed to be assured that
they were all welcome.

A dark-eyed woman greeted them.
"Why, come right in," she insisted. "We haven't much room, but we are
all glad to see you."
"Careful," whispered the mischievous Clip to Cora. "There's a trap door
some place, I'll bet."
"Hush!" commanded Cora under her breath. "You will be suspected if
not overheard."
The woman gathered up some sewing from an old-fashioned sofa. Cora
saw instantly that the piece of furniture was of the most desirable
pattern and quality, an antique mahogany gem of the colonial style.
"There will be room for most of us on your beautiful couch," said Cora,
taking her place, and indicating that the others might follow. "What a
handsome piece of furniture!"
"Yes," replied the woman with a sigh, "that is one of my family
heirlooms. We are very fond of old furniture."
"Look out!" whispered the irrepressible Clip. "Perhaps the trap is in the
sofa!"
Bess giggled helplessly.
Belle, with her self-confidence, peculiar to this particular occasion,
took her place over by the window in a huge, straight-back chair - the
kind built with "storm doors at the back."
The sad-eyed woman smiled with her lips, but her eyes "remained at
half mast," as Clip put it.
"It is so delightful to meet a lot of healthy young ladies," began the
woman, betraying a certain culture and unmistakable education. "I have
a little daughter, who is not healthy of body, but her mind is the joy of
our lives in this isolated place. She will ask to see you directly, and that
is why I tell you of her infirmity. We never speak of it to her - she

almost thinks herself in health. I am glad you came - for her sake."
Without waiting for a reply the woman opened a small door and
disappeared:
"Now!" gasped Clip. "Now be prepared! We will be fed piece by piece,
one by one, to the yellow dwarf - "
"Will you hush!" insisted Belle. "I am sure you ought to respect-"
"Oh, I do, Belle, dear! I respect your pretty self, and shall hate terribly
to see you torn limb from - "
The opening of the door cut short Clip's nonsense.
The woman wheeled a child's invalid