sunny morning in December, the little party of motor girls and their
friends, who had so often made motor boat trips on the lakes or
streams of their own country, set off in the Tartar for a cruise on
waters blue.

"All aboard!" cried Jack, with an assumption of gaiety he did not
feel.

"Oh, I wonder what lies before us?" murmured Cora.

"Courage, Senorita! Perhaps--happiness," said Inez, softly.




CHAPTER XVIII

THE SHARK


Looking at a map of the West Indies, the reader, if he or she will
take that little trouble, will see that the many islands lay in a
sort of curved hook, extending from Cuba, the largest, down to
Tobago, one of the smallest, just off Trinidad. In fact, Trinidad is
a little off-set of the end of the hook, and, for the purpose of this
illustration, need not be considered.

The problem, then, that confronted the motor girls, and, no less,
Jack and Walter, was to cruise in among these islands, in the hope of
finding, on one of them, Mrs. Kimball, and Mr. and Mrs. Robinson,