"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.