Books with title The Motor Girls Through New England or, Held by the Gypsies

Margaret Penrose was a house pseudonym used by the Stratemeyer Syndicate. Created by Edward Stratemeyer, the Stratemeyer Syndicate was the first book packager to have its books aimed at children, rather than adults. The Syndicate was wildly successful; at one time it was believed that the overwhelming majority of the books children read in the USA were Stratemeyer Syndicate books, based on a 1922 study of over 36,000 children country-wide.

THE SHADOW "Look, girls! There's a man!" "Where?" "Just creeping under the dining-room window!" "What can he want—looks suspicious!" "Oh, I'm afraid to go in!" "Hush! We won't go in just now!" "If only the boys were here!" "Well, don't cry—they will be here soon." "See! He's getting under the fence! There he goes!" "Did you get a look at him?" "Yes, a good look. I'll know him next time." Bess, Belle and Cora were holding this whispered conversation. It was Belle, the timid, who wanted to cry, and it was Cora who had really seen the man—got the good look. Bess did say she wished the boys were around, but Bess had great confidence in those boys, and this remark, when a man was actually sneaking around Clover Cottage, was perfectly pardonable. The motor girls had just returned from a delightful afternoon ride along the shore road at Lookout Beach. Bess and Belle Robinson, otherwise Elizabeth and Isabel, the twins, were in their little car—the Flyaway—and Cora Kimball was driving her fine, four-cylinder touring affair, both machines having just pulled up in front of Clover Cottage, the summer home of the Robinsons. "Did the boys say they would come directly from the post-office?" asked Belle, as she eyed the back fence suspiciously.

The Motor Girls Through New England - or, Held by the Gypsies is presented here in a high quality paperback edition. This popular classic work by Margaret Penrose is in the English language, and may not include graphics or images from the original edition. If you enjoy the works of Margaret Penrose then we highly recommend this publication for your book collection.

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Excerpt: ..."But I want to--" "Show Betty how beautiful it is to be lonely. Wallie Pennington, you are breaking your contract. No one was to get--" "Personal. Oh, all right-take Betty," and Walter emitted a most unmusical brawl. "Of course, you and Ed are keeping the contract. You are doing as you please. Behold Ed now, carrying Cora over a pebble--" "That's because Ed loves me," declared Jack, "and he is saving Cora's boots." "All the same, I simply won't carry Bess. She might melt in my arms." The young men were exploring the woods in the White Mountains. The girls were racing about in absolute delight over the ferns, while Mr. Rand, who had actually taken the "jaunt" from the hotel afoot, sat on a huge stone comparing notes with his muscles, and with the inactive years of discretion and indiscretion. "They're like a lot of young animals," he was saying to any one near enough to hear, "and I-I am like something that really ought to know better." "Just suppose," said Jack to Ed, "that a young deer should spring out just there where Belle and Hazel are sitting. What do you think would be the act?" "Hazel would try to catch the deer, and Belle would go up a tree. Give me something harder." "Well, then, suppose a tramp should come along the path and ask Betty for the thing that hangs around her neck. What would happen then?" "Walter would get mixed up with his trampship. That, too, is easy." "Cora says we have got to get back to earth in time for the Chelton fair. Now, I never thought that Cora cared about that sort of thing," Walter remarked. "But it's the home town, and Cora knows her name is on some committee," replied Ed. "I guess we will get enough of these wilds in a week. At any rate, all Cora does care for is the car-she would rather motor than eat." Betty had taken some wild berries to her father. "I say, sis," he pleaded, "can't we get back? I am stiffening, and you may all have to get together and carry me." "Are you so tired? Poor...

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