Margaret Penrose

Margaret Penrose
Margaret Penrose is a pseudonym used by multiple authors who wrote popular children's series in the early 20th century, primarily for the Stratemeyer Syndicate. Under this name, various authors contributed to series such as "The Motor Girls," "The Moving Picture Girls," and "The Great Radio Girls." The true identity of Margaret Penrose remains a mystery, as the name was a collective pseudonym used by different writers employed by the syndicate.

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A STRANGE MESSAGE Uproarious laughter from the girls with the wild flowers arousedCora. Rob Roland was gone. Had she fainted? Was that roaring in her ears just awakened nerves? "Cora! Oh, Cora! We had the most darling time," Bess wasbubbling. "You should have been along. Such a dear old farmer.He showed us the queerest tables. And he had the nicest son.Cora - What is the matter?"... more...

CHAPTER I A WORRIED GIRL Four girls sat on four chairs, in four different corners of the room. They sat on the chairs because they were really too tired to stand longer, and the reason for the occupancy of the corners of the apartment was self-evident. There was no other available space. For the center of the chamber was littered to overflowing with trunks, suitcases and valises, in various stages of... more...

CHAPTER I 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... more...

CHAPTER IA FLASH OF FIRE Filled was the room with boys and girls–yes, literally filled; for they moved about so from chair to chair, from divan to sofa, from one side of the apartment to the other, now and then changing corners after the manner of the old-fashioned game of “puss,” that what they lacked in numbers they more than made up in activity. It was a veritable moving picture of healthful,... more...

CHAPTER I NEWS With a crunching of the small stones in the gravel drive, the big car swung around to the side entrance of the house, and came to a stop, with a whining, screeching and, generally protesting sound of the brake-bands. A girl, bronzed by the summer sun, let her gloved hands fall from the steering wheel, for she had driven fast, and was tired. The motor ceased its humming, and, with a... more...

PUSHING OFF "Oh, Cora! Isn't this perfectly splendid!" exclaimed Bess Robinson. "Delightful!" chimed in her twin sister, Belle. "I'm glad you like it," said Cora Kimball, the camp hostess. "I felt that you would, but one can never be sure—especially of Belle. Jack said she would fall a prey to that clump of white birches over there, and would want to paint... more...

CHAPTER I CORA AND HER CAR "Now you've got it, what are you going to do with it?" asked JackKimball, with a most significant smile at his sister Cora. "Do with it?" repeated the girl, looking at her questioner in surprise; then she added, with a fine attempt at sarcasm: "Why, I'm going to have Jim break it up for kindling wood. It will make such a lovely blaze on the... more...

CHAPTER I THE SAME OLD TAVIA "She very probably will miss her train, we will miss her at the station, she will take a ride up with old Bill Mason, stay talking to him until dinner is too cold to wait any longer; then—then—well, she may steal in through a window and give you a midnight scare, just for a joke. That's my recollection of Miss Tavia." "Nat, you're too mean—Tavia... more...

CHAPTER I OUT OF A HAYRICK "Oh, my!" exclaimed one girl. "Oh, mine!" amended another. "Oh, ours!" called out a third. Then there was one awful bump, and the chorus was understood. The old-style hay wagon, which was like a big crib, wobbled from side to side. The young ladies followed its questionable example, and some of them "sort of" lapped-over on the others.... more...

CHAPTER I DOROTHY The day of days had come at last: Dorothy would be the Daughter of theRegiment. "Lucky you don't have to curl your hair, Doro, for the fog is like rain, and that's the worst kind for made curls," said Tavia. "Oh, I do hope it is not going to rain!" "No, it surely won't. But come, don't let's be late." "There's heaps of time,... more...

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