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.