anks for the lift, Leonore," said Louise as the
car stopped in front of the glistening white cottage, one of the show
places of Sea Crest.

"Oh, how fine!" exclaimed Cleo. "Like Crystal Palace, so white and
shiny."

And then began the third lap in their inspection of the summer
cottages.

CHAPTER IV

MARGARET-BY-THE-DAY

"WHY shouldn't we do it?" argued Margaret, who with Julia had joined her
chums at Sea Crest. "I think it would be just as much fun as playing a
game, and heaps more useful."

"Mother would hardly allow us," drawled Cleo. "She might appreciate our
courage, but to really try doing a washing!"

"Why not?" insisted Grace. "I'm just dying to try one of those motors. I
think it would be almost as exciting as driving a car. Do let us Cleo.
You know how it works."

"Yes, I know how to touch the button and turn on the switch, but how
about making the starch?"

Everybody joined in the laugh that followed the admission of not knowing
the common kitchen starch process, while having an idea of a modern
electric appliance.

"That's what ails our domestic science class. We study the washing
machine, but omit the starch," said Louise. "Well, suppose we do just
that and don't bother with the stiffness."

Teased into compliance Cleo led her chums to the out-of-door laundry,
which was built as a part of the bathing houses just off the kitchen.

It might have been the lure of the nice new, white washing machine, with
its buzzing electric motor, but whatever the cause the girls finally
succeeded in winning Cleo's permission that they try it.

"I'm going to be boss," insisted Margaret, rolling up her sleeves with
more gusto than seemed necessary, for in the process her fist came in
contact with Cleo's eye.

The friendly bout that followed delayed the washing somewhat, but the
scouts were at least on their way.

They had the log cabin all to themselves; and the manner in which they
took possession might have been taken to indicate they had the world to
themselves, for they made quite as much noise as a real troop, instead
of the prospective summer troop they were forming themselves into.

"Now first," ordered Margaret, giving her skirt a very effective but
unnecessary hitch, "first we sort the clothes."

"Ye-s--" agreed Julia. "But h-o-w?"

"Why just sort them, of course," evaded Margaret.

"Into nice neat little heaps," offered Cleo, stretching out a sheet on
the narrow floor, and thereby do