organize a
searching party to look for her, and they clamored for the reason for
her desertion.

She told them something of Freda's story, and Ed Foster promised to
talk the matter over with Mrs. Lewis later, and see if he could give
any legal aid.

"It's too bad!" exclaimed Bess. "There ought to be a law to punish
such men."

"There probably are laws," said Cora, "but the trouble is there are so
many laws that bad men can often use them for their own ends."

"Bravo, Portia. A Daniel come to judgment!" cried Ed. "With you on her
side, Freda is sure to win!"

But, though the motor girls tried to be merry, the little cloud of
Freda's trouble overshadowed them all the way to Crystal Bay.

CHAPTER III

CRYSTAL BAY

"Here we are!"

"Where's the bungalow?"

"Me for that motor boat of Cora's!" cried Jack.

"No, you don't!" exclaimed his sister. "Not till I try her first."

They had alighted at the station, and there was the confusion that
always follows engaging a carriage and seeing that the baggage has
safely arrived. Cora found time to slip off for a minute and whisper
words of cheer to Freda. Then she rejoined her chums, and made ready
for the trip to the bungalow.

The boys, with a fine disregard of housekeeping responsibilities, were
already making plans to go fishing that afternoon, having spied a man
who took out parties in his launch.

But finally order came out of chaos. The girls found themselves at
their bungalow, surrounded by their belongings. The boys, after seeing
that their possessions were piled in the tent, slipped on their oldest
garments and began overhauling their fishing tackle.

"Aren't you going to do anything toward getting a meal?" asked Cora of
Jack, as she went over to the tent to borrow a corkscrew with which to
open some olives.

"We thought maybe you'd ask us over," he answered, craftily, as he
adjusted a reel on his rod.

"Oh, Jack!" she cried. "We can't! We've got so much to unpack.
Besides, we're only going to have a light lunch now."

"A _light_ lunch! Excuse me. I know--crackers, pickles and olives.
Never! We'll go to the town delicatessen, sister mine!"

"Thank goodness there is one," murmured Cora.

She hastened back to the bungalow. And then began a series of
strenuous happenings.

Somehow trunks and suitcases were unpacked; somehow rooms were picked
out, rejected, taken again, and finally settled on. Then, between the
nibblings at the crackers and p