In the second volume, called "The Outdoor Girls at Rainbow Lake; Or, the Stirring Cruise of the Motor Boat Gem," I related what good times the girls had when Betty's uncle gave her a fine gasoline craft. Stirring times the girls had, too, when there was danger from a burning hay barge; and jolly times when they took part in races and went to dances. That Mollie's little sister Dodo was in distress because of a peculiar accident, which involved Grace, and caused the loss of valuable papers, detracted somewhat from the happiness of the girls for a time.
But in the end a "ghost" led to the finding of the missing documents, and Dodo was cured, so that all came out right. Then had followed more delightful times cruising and camping, and now, with the advent of fall, and Mollie's touring car, more glorious times were in prospect. The girls had not been long back from Rainbow Lake when Mollie received her auto.
I might mention that Betty Nelson was the daughter of a wealthy carpet manufacturer, with a large plant near Deepdale, while Mollie Billette was one of three children, her mother being a widow. Little Paul and Dodo I have already mentioned. Grace—the "Gibson girl," as she was often called, had a peculiar longing for sweets, and not being stinted as to pocket money—her father being a wealthy lawyer—she indulged her taste rather too much, so some of her friends thought.
There was a mystery about poor Amy Stonington, for the details of which I must refer my readers to the first book. Sufficient to say that since a baby she had been cared for by her uncle and aunt, Mr. and Mrs. John Stonington. Amy had lived in the West, and had been rescued from a great flood when an infant. What became of her parents, or her brothers or sisters—if she had any—no one seemed able to say. In a way this mystery embittered Amy's life, but she was of too sweet and good a disposition to allow it to make a difference with her friends.
The four girls had been chums since grammar school days, being now High School students. In addition to the "inseparables," as they were often called, my former readers will recall Will Ford, the brother of Grace; his chum, Frank Haley, and another friend, Allen Washburn, now a young lawyer, with whom Betty—but there, why should I give away Betty's little secret?
Quite in contrast to these boys was Percy Falconer, a rather foppish lad, who greatly admired Betty—as who did not? But as for Percy—Betty did not care for him in the least. She was too fine a character to permit herself to be really angry at him, but Betty and Percy never could get along well.
"Dear Deepdale," as the girls alliteratively referred to it, was a charming country town, nestling in a bend of the Argono River, which, some miles below the village, widened out into Rainbow Lake. It was on this lake that the girls had cruised, and had such fun, and Betty's boat was now docked in the new house constructed for it near Mollie's home. The girls lived within short distance of one another, and were continually visiting, or calling back and forth. Where you found one you would find the others, and their parents used to say they never knew when to expect their daughters home to meals—for they were like one family in respect to dining out.
And, as usual, this beautiful summer day found the girls together in the auto, when the accident had thrown them into such consternation.
"Did you find any water?" called Betty, who had made a pillow of the lap robe, and supported on it the head of the unconscious girl.
"Yes," answered Mollie, her hand trembling as she extended a collapsible cup of the fluid she had dipped from a nearby spring, "I'll get more when she takes that."