The Outdoor Girls At Rainbow Lake or The Stirring Cruise of the Motor Boat Gem by Laura Lee Hope 1913 Contents CHAPTER I. A GRAND SURPRISE CHAPTER II. AFTER THE PAPERS CHAPTER III. THE RUNAWAY CHAPTER IV. THE MISSING DOCUMENTS CHAPTER V. THE GEM CHAPTER VI. READY FOR A CRUISE CHAPTER VII. STOWAWAYS CHAPTER VIII. A HINT OF GHOSTS CHAPTER IX. OFF ON THE TRIP CHAPTER X. ADRIFT CHAPTER XI. IN DANGER CHAPTER XII. AT RAINBOW LAKE CHAPTER XIII. CRACKERS AND OLIVES CHAPTER XIV. THE REGATTA CHAPTER XV. THE RACE CHAPTER XVI. FIGHTING FIRE CHAPTER XVII. ON ELM ISLAND CHAPTER XVIII. IN CAMP CHAPTER XIX. A QUEER DISTURBANCE CHAPTER XX. THE STORM CHAPTER XXI. THE GHOST CHAPTER XXII. WHAT MOLLIE FOUND CHAPTER XXIII. SETTING A TRAP CHAPTER XXIV. THE GHOST CAUGHT CHAPTER XXV. THE MISSING SADDLE CHAPTER I A GRAND SURPRISE “Girls, I’ve got the grandest surprise for you!” Betty Nelson crossed the velvety green lawn, and crowded into the hammock, slung between two apple trees, which were laden with green fruit. First she had motioned for Grace Ford to make room for her, and then sank beside her chum with a sigh of relief. “Oh, it was so warm walking over!” she breathed. “And I did come too fast, I guess.” She fanned herself with a filmy handkerchief. “But the surprise?” Mollie Billette reminded Betty. “I’m coming to it, my dear, but just let me get my breath. I didn’t know I hurried so. Swing, Grace.” With a daintily shod foot—a foot slender and in keeping with her figure—Grace gave rather a languid push, and set the hammock to swaying in wider arcs. Amy Stonington, who had not joined in the talk since the somewhat hurried arrival of Betty, strolled over to the hammock and began peering about in it—that is, in as much of it as the fluffy skirts of the two occupants would allow to be seen. “I don’t see it,” she said in gentle tones—everything Amy did was gentle, and her disposition was always spoken of as “sweet” by her chums, though why such an inapt word is generally selected to describe what might better be designated as “natural” is beyond comprehension. “I don’t see it,” murmured Amy. “What?” asked Grace, quickly. “I guess she means that box of chocolates,” murmured Mollie. “It’s no use, Amy, for Grace finished the last of them long before Betty blew in on us—or should I say drifted? Really, it’s too warm to do more than drift to-day.” “You finished the last of the candy yourself!” exclaimed Grace, with spirit. If Grace had one failing, or a weakness, it was for chocolates. “I did not!” snapped Mollie. Her own failing was an occasional burst of temper. She had French blood in her veins—and not of French lilac shade, either, as Betty used to say. It was of no uncertain color—was Mollie’s temper—at times. “Yes, you did!” insisted Grace. “Don’t you remember? It was one with a cherry inside, and we both wanted it, and——” “You got it!” declared Mollie. “If you say I took it——”