28406	----	file was made using scans of public domain works put online by Harvard University Library's Open Collections Program, Women Working 1800 - 1930) _Why I Believe in Scouting for Girls_ By MARY ROBERTS RINEHART [Illustration] Series No. 10 GIRL SCOUTS NATIONAL HEADQUARTERS 189 Lexington Avenue New York City Why I Believe in Scouting _By Mary Roberts Rinehart_ Girls are great idealists. No one familiar with the working of the girl mind can fail to recognize how quickly they respond to ideals. They dream dreams, not of success, but of happiness. They look up rather than out. But they are vague and uncertain, full of wistful yearnings that lead nowhere. Given a cause and a leader, and they will bring to it an almost pathetic eagerness, staunchness, loyalty, enthusiasm and unselfish effort. There comes a critical time in a girl's mental and spiritual life, when she is waiting impatiently for young womanhood. The things of her childhood have lost their interest. She has abandoned her dolls. The little boys she played with have deserted her, and found the girl-less associations of the 'teens. They have their clubs, their sports, their meeting places. But to the young girl there is nothing but that period of waiting. She is peculiarly isolated. Her family often finds her strange. She is moody and dreamy. She begins to spend an almost alarming amount of time and thought upon her appearance. The family says: "What in the world is the matter with Jane?" And her father suggests it is too much going to the moving pictures. But the truth is that Jane is idle. She does not belong, between babyhood and womanhood, anywhere in the social organization. She is active and romantic. Her days are a long waiting for maturity, and with maturity the fulfilment of her dreams, of love, of marriage, of motherhood. She haunts the movies because she finds there vicarious romance and vicarious adventure. The great out-doors is hers to play in--on the screen. And at the same time, with no increased outlet for her activities, her imagination is being stimulated as never before. Books, magazines, automobiles, moving pictures, all are revealing to her this strange thing we call life, which is hers to observe but not yet to live. She is a yearning onlooker. It is time to realize that hundreds of thousands of young girls in this country--doubly important now that they are future citizens as well as the potential mothers of future citizens--must be given occupation, a feeling of responsibility, a practical ideal to which they may bring their innate loyalty and enthusiasm. They need organized play and athletics. They need something concrete to tie to. They need to be taught, if you please, what is the "gang" spirit among boys. They need to learn that their young bodies are to be used, instead of decorated. Until they learn that, we shall have sickly mothers and puny babies. No single movement for the improvement of American people as a race, no advance of science or sanitation, can compare in importance with the necessity for building up morally, spiritually and bodily, our future mothers. They need to be taught certain loyalties, sex loyalty. Loyalty to ideals. Loyalty to country. This last, loyalty to country, has to be taught. When a man learns to take off his hat to the flag, he has a new respect for it. Some of our girls need to be taught honesty. They cover their dreams with small deceits. They seek romance out of sheer boredom, and are driven into hypocrisy. The boy has fewer dreams to conceal, and he is honest with the honesty of fresh air and the great out-doors. When we give our girls occupation, when we get them out of doors, when we give them organized play in the open, there will be fewer morbid women. Give them something to do that interests them. Get them out into the air. Fill in the waiting years with work and play. Give them some rules of life which will appeal alike to their imaginations and to their instinctive desire for something better. Let them look out as well as up. Nearest of all the proposed plans to cope with what an increasing number of families are finding to be their problem, the adolescent girl, the Girl Scout movement fulfills all these requirements. It is sane, healthy and normal. It teaches honesty, purity, vigor and love of country. And it takes the girl in her 'teens and gives her a live interest in the present instead of the future. It should have nation-wide support. 
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20736	----	material generously made available by the Ruth Sawyer Collection of the College of Saint Catherine Libraries (http://library.stkate.edu/spcoll/ruthsaw.html) Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustration. See 20736-h.htm or 20736-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/0/7/3/20736/20736-h/20736-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/0/7/3/20736/20736-h.zip) Girl Scouts Series, Volume 1 THE GIRL SCOUTS AT HOME or Rosanna's Beautiful Day by KATHERINE KEENE GALT [Illustration: The little procession turned and made its way back to the lunch basket.] The Saalfield Publishing Company Chicago Akron, Ohio New York Made in U. S. A. Copyright, MCMXXI, by The Saalfield Publishing Company THE GIRL SCOUTS SERIES 1 THE GIRL SCOUTS AT HOME 2 THE GIRL SCOUTS RALLY 3 THE GIRL SCOUT'S TRIUMPH THE GIRL SCOUTS AT HOME CHAPTER I Little Rosanna Horton was a very poor little girl. When I tell you more about her, you will think that was a very odd thing to say. She lived in one of the most beautiful homes in Louisville, a city full of beautiful homes. And Rosanna's was one of the loveliest. It was a great, rambling house of red brick with wide porches in the front and on either side. On the right of the house was a wonderful garden. It covered half a square, and was surrounded by a high stone wall. No one could look in to see what she was doing. That was rather nice, but of course no one could look out either to see what they were doing on the brick sidewalk, and that does not seem so nice. At the back of the garden, facing on a clean bricked alley, was the garage, big enough to hold four automobiles. The garage was covered with vines. Otherwise, it would have been a queer looking building, with its one door opening into the garden, and on that side not another door or window either upstairs or down. The upstairs part was a really lovely little apartment for the chauffeur to live in, but all the windows had been put on the side or in front because old Mrs. Horton, Rosanna's grandmother, did not think that chauffeurs' families were _ever_ the sort who ought to look down into the garden where Rosanna played and where she herself sat in state and had tea served of an afternoon. At one side of the garden where the roses were wildest and the flowers grew thickest was a little cottage, built to fit Rosanna. Grown people had to stoop to get in and their heads almost scraped the ceilings. The furniture all fitted Rosanna too, even to the tiny piano. This was Rosanna's playhouse. She kept her dolls here, and there was a desk with all sorts of writing paper that a maid sorted and put in order every morning before Rosanna came out. This doesn't sound as though Rosanna was such a poor little girl, does it? But just you wait. A good ways back of this playhouse was another small building that looked like a little stable. It was a stable--a really truly stable built to fit Rosanna's tiny pony. He had a little box stall, and at one side there was space for the shiniest, prettiest cart. Rosanna did not go to school. There was a schoolroom in the house, but I will tell you about that some other time. Rosanna disliked it very much: a schoolroom with just one little girl in it! _You_ wouldn't like it yourself, would you? Rosanna's clothes were the prettiest ever; much prettier then than they are now. And such stacks of them! There was a whole dresser full of ribbons and trinkets and jewelry besides. (Poor little Rosanna!) She danced like a fairy, and every day she had a music lesson which was given her, like a bad pill, by a severe lady in spectacles who ought never to have tried to smile because it made her face look cracked all over and you felt so much better when the smile was over. Oh, poor, poor, _poor_ little Rosanna! Do you begin to guess why? You have not heard me say a word about her dear loving mother and her big joky father, have you? They were both dead! This is such a pitiful thing to have come to any little girl that I can scarcely bear to tell you. Both were dead, and Rosanna lived with her grandmother, who was a very proud and important lady indeed. There was a young uncle who might have been good friends with Rosanna and made things easier but she scarcely knew him. He had been away to college and after that, three years in the army. Once a week she wrote to him, in France; but her grandmother corrected the letters and usually made her write them over, so they were not very long and certainly were not interesting. Mrs. Horton was sure that her son's little daughter could never be worthy of her name and family if she was allowed to "mix," as she put it, with other children. So Rosanna was not allowed to _have_ any other children for friends, and Mrs. Horton was too blind with all her foolish family pride to see that Rosanna was getting queer and vain and overbearing. Every day they took a drive together, usually through the parks or out the river road. Mrs. Horton did not like to drive down town. She did not like the people who filled the streets. She said they were "frightfully ordinary." It was a shameful thing to be ordinary in Mrs. Horton's opinion. She had not looked it up in the dictionary or she would have chosen some other word because being ordinary according to the dictionary is no crime at all. It is not even a disgrace. Rosanna's books were always about flowers and fairies, or animals that talked, or music that romped up and down the bars spelling little words. There were never any people in them, and if any one sent her a book at Christmas about some poor little girl who wore a pinafore and helped her mother and lived in two rooms and was ever so happy, _that_ book had a way of getting itself changed for some other book about bees or flowers the very night before Christmas. "She will know about those things soon enough," said Rosanna's grandmother. But every afternoon when they sat in the rose arbor in the middle of the beautiful garden, Rosanna would get tired reading and she would stare up at the clouds and see how many faces she could find. One day she startled and of course shocked her grandmother by saying in a low voice, "Dean Harriman!" "Where?" said Mrs. Horton, staring down the walk. "In that littlest cloud," said Rosanna, unconscious of startling her grandmother. "It is very good of him, only his nose is even funnier than it is really. Sort of knobby, you know." "Please do not say 'sort of,'" said Mrs. Horton. "And if you are looking at pictures in the clouds, I consider it a waste of time, Rosanna!" She struck a little bell, and the house boy came hurrying across the lawn. Mrs. Horton turned to him. "Find Minnie," she said, "and tell her to send Miss Rosanna a volume of _Classical Pictures for Young Eyes_." So Rosanna looked at _Classical Pictures_, and for that afternoon at least kept her young eyes away from the clouds. And never again did she share her pictures with her grandmother. Rosanna was not a spiritless child, but every day and all day her life slipped on in its dull groove and she did not know how to get out. Poor little Rosanna! To the little girl behind it, a six-foot brick wall looks as high as the sky. And the garden, as I have told you before, was a very, _very_ big garden indeed. Plenty large enough to be very lonesome in. One morning Mrs. Horton was not ready to drive at the appointed time. Rosanna was ready, however, and was dancing around on the front porch when the automobile rolled up. She ran toward it but drew back at the sight of a strange chauffeur. He touched his cap and said "Good morning!" in a hearty, friendly way, very different to the stiff manner of the man who had been driving them. Rosanna went down to him. "Where is Albert?" she asked. "He does not work here now," said the man. "I have his place." "What is your name?" said Rosanna. "John Culver," said the new chauffeur. "What is your name?" Rosanna frowned a little. She liked this new man with his crinkly, twinkly blue eyes and white teeth. A deep scar creased his jaw, but it did not spoil his friendly, keen face. But chauffeurs usually did not ask her name. There had been so many going and coming during the war. She decided to walk away but could not resist his friendly eyes. "I am Miss Rosanna," she said proudly. "Oh!" said the man, and Rosanna had a feeling that he was amused. So she went on speaking. "I will get in the car, if you please, and wait for my grandmother." He opened the door of the limousine and before she could place her foot on the step, he swung her lightly off her feet and into the car. "There you are, kiddie!" he said pleasantly, and Rosanna was too stunned to say more than "Thank you!" as the door opened and her grandmother appeared, the maid following, laden with the small dog. Mrs. Horton nodded to the new man and gave an order as he closed the door. "Our new man," said Mrs. Horton to Rosanna, then settled back in her corner and took out a list which she commenced to check off with a gold pencil. Rosanna, holding the dog, looked out the windows. There were children all along the street: little girls playing dolls on front doorsteps and other little girls walking in happy groups or skipping rope. Boys on bicycles circled everywhere and shouted to each other. They made a short cut through one of the poor sections of the city. Here it was the same: children everywhere, all having the best sort of time. They were not so well dressed, that was all the difference. They had the same carefree look in their eyes. Rosanna gazed out wistfully, longingly. And now you surely guess why Rosanna, with her beautiful home, her pony and her playhouse, her lovely garden, and her room full of pretty things, still was so very, very poor. Rosanna did not have a single friend. CHAPTER II John Culver brought them home and as they left the car Mrs. Horton enquired, "Is your apartment comfortable, John?" "Perfectly comfortable, thank you," said Culver. "You are married?" Mrs. Horton continued. "Yes," replied Culver. "Any children?" "One little girl," said Culver, glancing at Rosanna with a smile. Mrs. Horton saw the look. She said nothing, but when Rosanna sat before her at the great round table, eating her luncheon, Mrs. Horton remarked, "Of course, Rosanna, you will make no effort whatever to meet the child living over the garage. Unless you make the opportunity, she will never see you, thanks to the arrangement of the windows. She is a child that it would be impossible for you to know." Rosanna did not reply. "Rosanna?" said her grandmother sharply. "Yes, grandmother," sighed poor Rosanna. After luncheon Mrs. Horton dressed and was driven away to a bridge party. Rosanna practiced scales for half an hour, talked French with her governess for another long half, and then wandered out into the garden and commenced to wonder about the child over the garage. How old was she? What was she like? Rosanna wished she could see her. There was a rustic seat near the garage and Rosanna went over and curled up on its rough lap. She stared and stared at the garage, but the blank brick walls with their curtains of vines gave her no hint. It seemed as though she had been sitting there for hours when she fancied a small voice called, "Hello, Rosanna!" Rosanna sat perfectly still, staring at the brick wall. "Hello, Rosanna!" said the voice again softly. It was a strangely sweet, gentle voice and seemed to come from the air. Rosanna cast a startled glance above her. There was a little laugh. "Look in the tree," said the pleasant voice. Rosanna, mouth open, eyes popping, looked up. A big tree growing in the alley, close outside the brick wall, leaned its biggest bough in a friendly fashion over Rosanna's garden. High up something blue fluttered among the thick leaves. Then the branches parted, and a face appeared. Rosanna continued to stare. The little girl in the tree waved her hand. "You don't know me, do you, Rosanna?" she teased. "But I know you. You are Rosanna Horton, and you live in that lovely, lovely house and this is your garden. Is that your playhouse over there? And oh, _is_ there an honest-for-truly pony in that little barn? Dad says there really is. Is there?" She stopped for breath, and beamed down on Rosanna. "How did you get up there?" said Rosanna. _She_ was not allowed to climb trees. "Father made a little ladder and fastened it to the trunk with wires so it won't hurt the wood. If Mrs. Horton doesn't mind, he is going to fix a little platform up here. There is a splendid place for it. Then I can study up here where it is all cool and breezy and whispery. Don't you like to hear the leaves whisper? He is going to put a rail around it so we won't fall off." "Who is _we_?" asked Rosanna. "Have you brothers and sisters?" "No, I haven't," said the little girl. "Mother says it is my greatest misfortune. She says that I shall have to make a great many friends to make up for it, and that if I don't I will grow selfish. Wouldn't you hate to be selfish? I 'spect you have dozens and _dozens_ of little girls to play with. How happy you must make everybody with your lovely garden and things! My mother says that is what things are for: to share with people. She says it is just like having two big red apples. If you eat them both, why, you don't feel good in your tummy; but if you give one to some one, you feel good everywhere, and you have a good time while you are eating them and get better acquainted, and it just does you good. Do little girls come to see you every day?" "No," said Rosanna, "I don't know any little girls. My grandmother won't let me." "Won't _let_ you?" said the girl in the tree in a shocked tone. "Why won't she let you?" "She says I would learn to speak bad grammar and use slang, and grow up to be vulgar." "Goodness me!" said the stranger. She sat rocking on her bough for a few minutes. Then: "Why would you have to learn bad things of other girls?" she demanded. "I wouldn't let _anybody_ teach me anything I didn't want to know. I should think it would be nice to have you teach _them_ good grammar if you know it, and not to use slang, and all that. She must think you are soft! My mother says if you are made of putty, you will get dented all over and never be more than an unshapely lump, but if you are made of good stone, you can be carved into something lovely and lasting. But that is just your grandmother," said the girl. "Where is your mother? Is she off visiting?" "She is dead," said Rosanna. A wave of unspeakable longing for the lost young mother swept over her and her lip trembled as she spoke. "Oh, poor, poor Rosanna!" said the little tree girl softly. "Oh, Rosanna, I feel so sorry! If you ever want to borrow mine, I wish you would. I wish you would! My mother says that when a woman has even just one child in her heart, it grows so big that it can hold and love all the children in the world. You borrow her any time you need her, Rosanna!" Then feeling that perhaps the conversation ought to take a livelier strain, she did not wait for Rosanna to answer, but continued, "I wish somebody hadn't built this apartment over your garage so that none of the windows look out on your garden. We are going to hate that, aren't we?" "Grandmother had it built that way so we would not see the people living there," Rosanna explained. "Oh!" said the tree girl. "Well, of course you know that _I_ live there now. We came two days ago, and my name is Helen Culver. We would love to play together, wouldn't we?" "Oh, indeed we would!" said Rosanna. "Well, then we will," said Helen joyfully. "I must go now. I think it is practice time. I will see you after luncheon. Good-bye!" and she slid down the tree and disappeared. Rosanna went skipping to the house. She was so happy. It was not her practice time, but she was going to practice because Helen was so engaged. Her mind was full of Helen as she sat doing finger exercises and scales. How lovely and clean and bright she looked with her big, blue eyes and blond docked hair! Her teeth were so white and pretty and her voice was so soft and low. And she had a dimple! It was Rosanna's dream to have a dimple in her thin little cheek. Rosanna commenced to play scales. She took the C scale--it was so easy that she could think. She was so happy that she played it in a very prancy way, up and down, up and down. Then it commenced to stumble and go ve-ry, v-e-r-y slowly. Rosanna had had an awful thought. The same thought had really been there all the time, but her heart was making such a happy noise that she wouldn't let herself hear it. Now, however, it made such a racket she just had to listen. Over and over with the scales it said loudly and harshly, "Will your grandmother let you play with that little girl who lives over the garage? Will your grandmother even let you _know_ that little girl who lives over the garage? Will she? Will she?" Rosanna Horton knew the answer perfectly well. CHAPTER III The only thing to do, Rosanna decided, was to talk to her grandmother after luncheon when they usually sat in the rose arbor. Rosanna, playing scales, felt quite brave. She would explain everything: how Helen Culver used the best of grammar, and no slang, and climbed trees in rompers and did not scream. Then when she had assured her grandmother of all this, she would tell her quite firmly that she, Rosanna, needed a friend. It seemed simple and easy, but when luncheon was announced, she decided not to speak until later and when finally they went out to the rose arbor, Rosanna commenced to feel quite shaky and instead of talking she fell into a deep silence. And then, that minute, that very identical second, something happened that changed everything. A messenger boy came with a telegram. And if it hadn't been for that messenger boy this story would never have happened. If he had been a _slow_ messenger boy, half an hour late...but he just hurried along on his bicycle and arrived that second. Oh, a dozen things might have happened to delay the boy, but there he was just as Rosanna said, "Grandmother!" in a small but firm voice. Rosanna said nothing more because her grandmother opened the telegram with fingers that shook a little in spite of her iron will. But as she read it a look of relief and joy lighted her proud face. "Good news, Rosanna," she said. "The best of news! Your Uncle Robert has reached America!" "Won't he have to fight any more, grandmother?" "No; he will come home and be with us. But as I have told you, dear, he was slightly wounded over there in Germany, and I think if I can arrange everything for your comfort, I will go and meet him. He is in New York, and I shall see for myself if he needs any doctoring or care that he could not get here. Then perhaps we will stay at the seaside or in the mountains for a week or so. Would you mind being left with the maids for that long? Perhaps one of your little acquaintances would like to come and play with you once or twice a week." This was a great privilege in her grandmother's eyes, as Rosanna knew, and she said, "Thank you, grandmother," and started to tell her then and there about Helen. But Mrs. Horton went right on talking. "Come to my room with me while I pack," she said, rising. Rosanna did not get a chance to say one word to her. She listened while her grandmother called up an intimate friend who lived near by and arranged for her to come in every day to see how Rosanna was getting on. She called John in and told him just where he could drive the car when Miss Rosanna took her daily ride. "If she wants to take a little girl friend with her, she is to do so, as I want her to have a good time," Mrs. Horton told him. When she woke the next morning, Rosanna lay for a long while thinking. So Uncle Robert had actually come home! And grandmother had gone to meet him! She might be away a week or more. Then her thoughts flew to Helen. Wasn't it too, _too_ wonderful? Her grandmother had said quite clearly that one of her little acquaintances might come and play with her. Usually Rosanna took forever to dress. She was really not at all nice about it. Big girl as she was, Minnie always dressed her, and she would scriggle her toes so her stockings wouldn't go on, and would hop up and down so the buttons wouldn't button. It was very exasperating and she should have been soundly spanked for it: but of course Minnie, who was paid generous wages, only said, "Now, Miss Rosanna, don't you bother poor Minnie that-a way!" This morning, however, she was out of bed and into the cold plunge without being pushed and she actually _helped_ with her stockings. She was ready for breakfast so soon that Minnie said, "Well, well, Miss Rosanna, looks like it does you good to have your grandmother go 'way!" With one thing and another, she did not get a chance to go down to the overhanging tree until after luncheon. She peered eagerly up. Helen was there, curled up on a big bough, a book in her lap and a gray kitten playing around her. "Here I am!" said Rosanna, smiling. "And here am I," answered Helen, smiling back. "Did you expect me sooner?" asked Rosanna. "No; I was hoping you wouldn't come. I suppose you never have things to do, but I am a very busy little girl. I help mother, and practice my music, and she is teaching me to sew and cook. Of course we have cooking at school but no one can cook like mother, and I want to be just like her. I told her about you last night, and she said you could borrow her whenever you wanted to." "I too have things to do," said Rosanna, who felt as though she ought to be of some use since Helen was so industrious. "When I get through with my bath mornings Minnie dresses me--" "_Dresses_ you?" exclaimed Helen in astonishment. "Why, Rosanna, can't you dress yourself?" Rosanna felt a queer sort of shame. "I never tried," she confessed, "but I am sure I could." "Of course you could," said Helen briskly. "The buttons and things in the back are hard, but my mother makes most of my things slip-on so I can manage everything. Why don't you try to dress yourself, Rosanna? You wouldn't want folks to know that you couldn't, would you? Of course you don't mind my knowing, because I am your friend and I will never tell; but you wouldn't want most people to know?" Rosanna had never thought about it at all, but now it seemed a very babyish and helpless thing. She determined to dress herself in future. To change the subject she said, "Why don't you come down into the garden? I want to show you my playhouse and the pony." "I'd love to," said Helen, and slid rapidly down the tree and out of sight behind the brick wall. Rosanna heard her light footsteps running up the stairs leading to the apartment over the garage. She sat down on the rustic seat and waited as patiently as she could. It seemed a long time before Helen appeared at the little gate in the wall. "Mother thinks that you ought to ask your grandmother if she would like to have me come and see you," she said, looking very grave. "Oh, that's all right!" said Rosanna. "Grandmother has gone away, and she said the very last thing that I could have somebody come and see me whenever I wanted." "But did she say me?" Helen persisted. "My father drives for your grandmother and perhaps she may think we are not rich and grand enough for you." "Why, no, she didn't say _you_. She didn't say _any_body. She said I might have anyone I like, and I like you. It is all right. You can ask Minnie; she heard her say I could have company. She doesn't know you, you see, so she _couldn't_ say that you were the one to come. She told me 'some little girl.'" "That sounds all right," said Helen. "I will go tell mother. She was not sure I ought to come." She disappeared once more through the little gate, and Rosanna waited. She was not happy. Her grandmother had certainly not named any little girl, but Rosanna knew that she did not mean or intend that Rosanna should entertain the little girl who lived over the garage. Her grandmother thought every one was all right if they belonged to an old family. The first thing she ever asked Rosanna about any little girl was "What is her family?" or "Who are her people?" Rosanna, whose conscience was troubling her in a queer way, determined to ask Helen about her family, although it seemed that was one of the things that were not very nice to do. But perhaps Helen had a family. In that case she could settle everything happily. The children joined hands and went skipping along the path toward the playhouse, Helen's bobbed yellow locks shining in the sun and Rosanna's long, heavy, dark hair swinging from side to side as she danced along. She led the way through the little door into the little living-room of the playhouse and stood aside as Helen cried out with wonder and pleasure. "Oh, oh, oh, Rosanna!" the little girl exclaimed. "Oh, it is too dear! May I please look at everything, just as though it was in a picture book?" Helen moved from one place to another in a sort of daze. She tried the little wicker chairs one after another. She sat at the tiny desk and touched the pearl penholders and the pencils with Rosanna's name printed on them in gold letters. All the letter paper said _Rosanna_ in gold letters at the top too; it was beautiful. The little piano was real. It played delightfully little tinkly notes almost like hitting the rim of a glass with a lead pencil. Helen was charmed. She could scarcely drag herself away to see the other wonders of the playhouse. The little dining-room was built with a bay window, which had a window seat, and a hanging basket of ferns. The little round table, the sideboard and the chairs were all painted a soft cream color, and on each chair back, and the sideboard drawers and doors sprays of tinty, tiny flowers were painted. Helen hurried from these splendors to the kitchen. And it was a real kitchen! "If our domestic science teacher could only see this!" groaned Helen. The room was larger than either of the others, and there was plenty of room for two or three persons, at least for a couple of children and one grown person if she was not so very large. There was a little gas stove complete in every way, a cabinet, and a porcelain top table, as well as a white sink and draining board. The floor was covered with blue and white linoleum, and the walls were papered with blue and white tiled paper with a border of fat little Dutch ships around the top. Little white Dutch curtains hung at the windows. "Oh my! Oh my!" sighed Helen. "This is the best of all! The other rooms you can only sit in and enjoy, but here you can really _do_ things and learn to be useful." She opened a little cupboard door and discovered all sorts of pans and kettles made of white enamel with blue edges. "I never come out here at all," said Rosanna. "Perhaps they are afraid you will burn yourself," suggested Helen. "No, the stove is a safe kind, made specially for children's playhouses, but I don't know how to cook, so I don't play in the kitchen at all. Make-believe dinners are no fun." Helen gave a happy sigh. "Well, _I_ can cook," she said, "and I will teach you how." "Won't that be fun!" said Rosanna. She suddenly threw her arms around Helen's neck and kissed her. "Oh, Helen, I am so happy," she said. CHAPTER IV After Helen had looked the wonderful kitchen over to her heart's content, the children went back to the pretty living-room, where they examined the books in the little bookcase, and then each carrying a comfy wicker chair, went out on the wide porch. A big grass rug was spread there, and there was a little porch swing and a wicker table. Rosanna commenced to tell Helen about herself. She told much more than she intended, and by the time she had finished, Helen knew more about her new friend than Rosanna's own grandmother had ever guessed. Helen herself was a very happy, busy little girl, with wise and loving parents. They were poor, and Mr. Culver had very wisely taken the first position that offered as soon as he came home from France and found that the firm he had formerly worked for had given his position to some one else, a man much less capable than Mr. Culver and who worked willingly for wages that Mr. Culver did not feel like accepting. Yes, they were poor, but as Mr. Culver said, "Just you wait, folkses; this will be fun to remember some day." And Mrs. Culver called it "our school" and told Helen that they must both strive to know the best and easiest way of doing everything while they had to do all for themselves. Helen's eyes filled with tears when she heard of the death of Rosanna's young father and mother in a railroad accident when she was such a little thing that now she could scarcely remember them. "And then you came to live with your grandmother?" she said, struggling not to go to Rosanna and hug her tight. A little girl without mother or father! It was too dreadful. "Yes, she came to the hospital and as soon as I was well--I was just scratched up a little--she brought me here." "Well," said Helen briskly, "it must be fine to have a grandmother. I suppose grandmothers are 'most exactly as good as mothers," she went on, trying to make light of Rosanna's misfortune. "I expect they cuddle you and play with you and hold you 'most exactly like mothers." "Mine doesn't," said Rosanna sadly. "She kisses me good-night; at least she holds her cheek so I can kiss _her_, but she never plays with anybody. And she never holds me: she says I am too big to get on people's laps. But I guess I must have been a big baby because she never did hold me even when I was little. There must be different kinds of grandmothers." "A little girl I know has one, and my grandmother says that it is a disgrace the way she spoils that child, and she says she wants me to grow up to be an honor to our house. You see I am the only grandchild there is. "Grandmother had a daughter long ago, but she died when she was only two, and grandmother was married twice and both her husbands died." "You seem to have quite a dying family," said Helen politely. "Yes, we have." Rosanna commenced to feel quite proud of the fact now that Helen had mentioned it. "I have an uncle too, and he 'most died over in France but he is home now." "My father was there too," said Helen proudly. "He had to give up everything to go, but mother wouldn't let him say that he had to stay home and work for us so he went. Mother went to work typewriting and we lived in three rooms, and I went to school and cooked our suppers at night. Mother used to come home so tired. After the dishes were washed, we used to sit and knit. I learned to knit without looking on, so I could knit and study all at the same time. You are the only friend I have here in Louisville," concluded Helen, "but of course when school begins I will have lots of them." Rosanna was conscious of a jealous pang. She didn't want this bright-eyed little girl who had just come into her life to have other friends. "I don't see why you have to have other friends if you have me," she said. "Why can't we play together all the time, and have good times? My grandmother said I was to take you riding every day, and we can have such fun. If you have a lot of other friends, Helen, you won't come here at all." "Why, yes, I will, Rosanna! You will be my bestest friend of all. But mother says we all need a number of people in our lives because if we don't we will all get to thinking the same things and talking the same way, and it is very bad for us." "Well, I can't have any," said Rosanna hopelessly. "I told you that before. I suppose if she hadn't had to go to New York, I would never have had you for a friend. That is the way my grandmother is." "Oh, well," said Helen, "when she gets back we will explain things to her, and I am sure she will get to understand all about things. Why, you just _have_ to have friends, Rosanna, and I want you to have me if you think you like me enough." "Oh, I do; indeed I do!" cried Rosanna. "I just can't stand it if she doesn't let me have you! We will have such good times, Helen, and I can learn to cook, and we can learn to play duets together and it will be such fun." "I should say so!" said Helen happily. "And don't you think it would be fun to see what all we can do for ourselves? I mean without asking Minnie. I am sure mother would think it would make us sort of helpless. Of course she is your maid, and if you would rather have her to do things for you--" "No; let's do everything ourselves," said Rosanna, eager to please, and with a feeling that with someone to enjoy it with her the task would be a pleasure. "I tell you what, Helen, until school opens I can be your very best friend, and you can play with me 'most all the time, and we will be so happy." Minnie watched them from a side window in the big house but they did not see her. Minnie was pleased. She had heard what Mrs. Horton had said about some child coming to play with Rosanna. Minnie being wiser than Rosanna and grown up, knew very well that Mrs. Horton did not mean Helen Culver. But Minnie had had one or two disastrous experiences with the children who went to the very select dancing school with Rosanna, and the quiet, pretty, well-behaved girl playing there in the garden seemed almost too good to be true. She had never seen Rosanna look so well and so happy. She was glad to see the chauffeur's child "makin' good" as she expressed it. Minnie's young man had also returned from overseas and she was sewing every spare moment on things for her own little house and for herself. If Rosanna had a chance to play all day every day for a whole week, or as long as Mrs. Horton stayed away--and Minnie piously wished her a long trip--why, she could be ready for the young man and the little house just that much sooner. As soon as this most splendid thought found its way into Minnie's mind she commenced to make plans to help the children, and as the first one occurred to her she put her work in her pocket and hurried across to the playhouse, where she fairly gasped at the sight of Rosanna awkwardly but cheerfully sweeping leaves and stems off the porch while Helen shook the rugs. "Time for you to dress for the evening. Miss Rosanna," she said. "And wouldn't you like to invite Miss Helen over to supper, and have it served here on your own porch?" "Oh, wouldn't that be fun?" cried Rosanna "Wouldn't you like that, Helen?" "Indeed I would!" said Helen. She jumped off the porch and looked to see if the rug was straight. "I will go right home and ask my mother and if I don't come straight back and tell you, you will know that I can come to supper." She ran off, returning just at supper time. Minnie served the meal and it was all as delicious as a party. Even the cook was glad to see Rosanna really happy. And after the last bit of the dessert, a pink ice-cream, had been slowly eaten, the two little girls sat talking in quite a grown-up manner. Presently Helen's bright eyes spied a lady at the other end of the garden. "Someone is coming!" she exclaimed. "That is a friend of grandmother's. She is coming over every day to see how I am getting along." "Good-evening, Rosanna," said the lady. "I think this looks as though you were having a very nice time indeed." "We are, Mrs. Hargrave," said Rosanna. "This is my friend, Helen Culver." Helen curtseyed. "How do you do, Helen," said Mrs. Hargrave. "The Culvers of Lee County, I suppose. A fine old family, my dears. As good as yours, Rosanna. Well, well, I am glad you are both having a nice time! If you want anything of me, Rosanna, telephone me and I will be over every day. You little girls must both come and have luncheon with me some day." She bade them good-night and walked off, feeling that she had done her whole duty. "It is time for me to go home," said Helen. "I didn't practice my half hour this evening, so I must go and do it now." "I didn't practice either," said Rosanna. "I want to work hard at my music if we are to play duets. I don't want to be the one who always has to play secondo. Besides, I have a bee-_u_-ti-ful secret for to-morrow." CHAPTER V When Rosanna went to bed that night she commenced by sitting down on the floor and taking off her own socks and slippers. Then while Minnie stood looking at her in pleased surprise, she carefully took off her hair ribbon and folded it up! "Minnie," she said, "have you any little girls in your family?" "Yes, Miss Rosanna, ever so many." "As little as me?" pursued Rosanna. "Some littler, and some just about like you, and some larger." "Well," said Rosanna, "do they most of them dress and undress themselves?" "Indeed yes!" said Minnie. "They would get good and spanked if they tried any funny work with their mothers. Not that it's not all right, Miss Rosanna, for you to be cared for, but land, my sisters are all too busy to bother! And besides, those children have got to learn to do for themselves sooner or later, and the sooner the better. And I will say, Miss Rosanna, good wages nor anything will _ever_ make me think it is a good thing to have my babying you along as big as you are. I don't see why I can't earn my money just as honest and give just as much work for it by learnin' you to stand on your own feet, as you might say." "Well," said Rosanna wisely, "let's make a game of it, Minnie. While grandmother is away, play you are working for _me_ and teach me to be like your little girls." "Bless your heart!" said Minnie tenderly. "I have feelings, you will find, Miss Rosanna, if I _am_ only a maid, and I certainly do think you are a dear child. Whatever gets some of the queer ideas in your head I don't know!" "Why, my little new friend Helen Culver dresses herself and combs her own hair and everything. And all your little girls in your family fix themselves, and when I told Helen that you dress me she looked sort of funny. Then suppose you had to go away for awhile, what would I do? None of the other maids know where my things are and, besides, I don't like to have anyone but you fix me and button me up. You are real kind and soft when you touch me, Minnie. I think you try to be a mother to me." To Rosanna's horror, Minnie burst into tears. "Oh, the saints forgive me!" she sobbed. "To think you have thought of that and me dressin' you half the time that rough and sudden! Oh, Miss Rosanna dear, just you take notice of me after this!" "Why, I don't need to," said Rosanna. "You _are_ good to me, and if you will, just play you work for me and show me where my things are and how to do things. Helen is going to teach me to cook if you will come sit in the kitchen and I am going to see if Mrs. Culver will show me how to sew." Minnie sniffed. "If she can beat me sewin'," she said scornfully, "she's beatin' me at my own game. I learned of the nuns in the convent school where your stitches has to be that small you can't find 'em. You just let me help with your sewin', dearie." "That will be fine," said Rosanna, dancing up and down. "Oh, I do wish grandmother was going to stay away longer than a week! That's such a short time to learn everything in, I don't see how I can do it all." "Nor I," said Minnie. "And I sure do wish the same for your grandmother, that she will treat herself and Mr. Robert to a good long trip. She don't stay away enough for her own good, I say. Well, wishing never does much good. All we can do is just put in all the time we can, Miss Rosanna, and we will do exactly what you say. We will make a play of it and I will start this very minute. You will find your clean night dress in the left hand end of the second drawer of your dresser." "Here it is," said Rosanna a moment later. "What a lot of them I have! Do I need such a big pile, Minnie?" "Well, not really, Miss Rosanna. You outgrow them mostly." "Then we won't get any more for a long, long time," said Rosanna. "Minnie, what do you think about my hair?" "I will have to comb that for you, dearie; it is so very long and thick." "I was thinking," said Rosanna slowly, "about docking it. It is a great bother." "Oh, my sufferin' soul!" cried Minnie, with a face of horror. "Oh me, oh my! Don't you think of that ever again, Miss Rosanna! If anything in the _world_ happened to your hair, well, I don't want to think what your grandmother would do to me. Your hair is her pride and glory. It is the only thing I ever heard her brag about. 'You can tell Rosanna in a crowd as far as you can see her,' says she, 'by her hair; just that dark color full of streaks of gold like, and curls at that.' No, Miss Rosanna, you can learn to sew and cook and take care of yourself, and not much harm done for her to fret about, but for _mercy's_ sake don't you go touching your hair." "Well, it _is_ a bother," said Rosanna, "but we will let it alone for awhile. Now you must come and wake me early, Minnie, and bring your sewing so you can sit here and tell me when I don't do the right thing. After breakfast, if cook will give us some things, I will get Helen and we will do some baking. Won't that be fun? And in the afternoon I am going to give Helen and you a surprise." "Me too? Do you mind if Minnie kisses you good-night, dearie?" she asked softly. Rosanna sleepily held up her arms. "Oh, I wish you would, Minnie! It is so nice to have somebody want to kiss me without my asking them to do it." Minnie kissed her tenderly. "Bless you, dearie, old Minnie will kiss you good-night every night!" She turned out the light and snapped on the electric fan. And at once, it seemed to Rosanna, it was morning. There must have been some time between, however, because Minnie went and looked over all her things, and rejoiced to think what great progress she could make on her wedding things in a week if she didn't have to wait on Rosanna all the time, and after she had put everything back in the trunk and locked it up as though it was the greatest treasure in the world, she went down to see the cook. She told her all about what Rosanna had planned, and the cook listened and sniffled and blew her nose hard several times and then got up and brought out a big basket. This she set on the kitchen table and commenced to fill with any number of things: salt and pepper and flour and spices and baking powder and raisins, and all sorts of things. The next morning when Rosanna went into the playhouse kitchen for a look on her way to call Helen, there was everything any little girl would possibly need to cook with, all arranged in rows on the shelves of the tiny cupboard. And wonder of wonders, just inside the door was a little ice-chest. "Oh, oh! Where did that come from?" cried Rosanna, clapping her hands and running to open it. "Cook found it in the store room," said Minnie, smiling. "It was the one they used in your nursery when you were a baby. She cleaned it all out, and I think you will find something in it besides ice." Sure enough there _was_ something besides ice, but Rosanna took one little glance and then ran like the wind for the kitchen, where she burst upon the astonished cook, and reaching as far around her as her short arms would go, hugged her hard. Then she ran to the brick wall and called Helen. It seemed about a second before the two children were in the playhouse kitchen, aprons on, and hard at work. Minnie was made superintendent and sat sewing in a wicker chair beside the table, where she could give advice. Helen was chief cook and Rosanna was assistant--the most delighted and thrilled assistant that ever beat an egg or stirred a batter. By eleven o'clock the cooking was done and every pot and pan washed and put in its place. Helen said that was the rule in domestic science school, so although they were both tired with their labors and Rosanna wished in her heart that she could tell Minnie to clean up as she usually did whenever a mess was made, they stuck to their task and it did not take very long to finish the work and make the kitchen all spick and span. Rosanna was conscious of a new feeling, a sort of glow, at her heart. Never before in her life had she spent a really useful morning. She had learned to cook several things, and had the best time she had ever had in her life. "What shall we have? A party?" asked Helen, sinking down in one of the wicker chairs. Rosanna laughed. "Now I am going to tell my surprise, Minnie," she said. "But when I made it up I didn't think we would help with it ourselves. No, indeed; I thought you and cook would have to do it all, and we would just sit around." She laughed. "I think it would be loads of fun to take our cookies and the jello we made, and make some sandwiches of the cold meat cook put in our ice-box, and pack the lunch hamper just as though we were grown up, and fill the thermos bottles with milk, and go to Jacobs Park for supper to-night." Helen gave a scream of delight. "Oh, splendid!" she cried, "I have not been out there yet, and dad says it is perfectly beautiful--just like real country." "Don't you suppose your mother would like to go, Helen?" asked Rosanna. "Of course she would!" said Helen promptly, "but she has gone to Jeffersonville and will not be back until to-morrow morning. It was nice of you to think of her, Rosanna." When the hamper was packed to their satisfaction, they called Minnie back to see if they had forgotten anything. "Why, who's going, Miss Rosanna?" asked Minnie, looking into the basket with much surprise. "You and Mr. Culver and Helen and me," said Rosanna wonderingly. "Well, dearie, whatever are you going to do with all these things to eat?" said Minnie. "This basket holds enough for eight grown people, and you have packed it full." "I think we can eat it by supper time," said Rosanna. "You have no idea how good those cookies and things are. Do you think we have forgotten anything, Minnie?" "Where is the corkscrew for your olive bottle?" said Minnie. "And what are all those little bundles?" "Hard boiled eggs," said Helen. "Have you put in salt and pepper for 'em?" "I don't believe we have," said Rosanna. She ran to get some. "What is in that dish?" Minnie went on relentlessly. "Salad, and the other one has fruit jello." "They won't ride very well, I am fraid," said Minnie. Then seeing a look of disappointment in the children's faces she hastened to add, "Well, I say that is a grand supper, and cook never did a bit better for Mr. Robert when he was home and used to give motoring parties. Now I have a plan myself. Both you children go and take a nap. Please do that for Minnie, Miss Rosanna." Rosanna was sure she could not sleep, but about one minute later she was dreaming of dinner parties and kitchens. When she woke up it was three o'clock and Minnie was shaking her gently. Rosanna was off the bed like a shot. She had just reached the porch when Helen came running up, dressed plainly and sensibly in a plain dark gingham and sandals. "The car is all ready," she said, "and daddy is driving it around to the front door. And oh, he thinks he can't stay with us. He has so much studying to do he is going to leave us there with you, Minnie, and come for us whenever you say." "Well, that's all right," said Minnie. "Only now that makes three to eat all that supper." Rosanna picked up her cape and a thermos bottle and skipped down the broad steps after the house boy, who carried the heavy lunch hamper. "Never you mind, Minnie," she said. "Wouldn't you be s'prised to see us eat every bit of it?" "No, I wouldn't," said Minnie firmly. "I'd be _scared_." CHAPTER VI Driving through the winding roads of beautiful Iroquois Park, or Jacobs Park as it is better known to the people of Louisville, they found a lovely glade where the grass was smooth and where the trees grew close all about. They were screened from the passersby, and it looked as though the little place had just been waiting for a couple of little girls to come there and enjoy a treat. For a long time they played while Minnie sat comfortably at the foot of a tree and sewed on one of her doilies. Suddenly they were interrupted by the sound of crying. Both girls stood motionless in amazement. Minnie put down her work. The crying continued. It was no feeble wail, but a good hearty roar with a running accompaniment of sobs in another key. Two children were being as miserable and unhappy as they knew how. As they came close to the leafy screen that protected Rosanna and Helen, the girls were able to see as well as hear the sobbing pair. The most noise was made by a chubby, red-faced little fellow wearing a cap. He was dragging an empty box by a string, like a little wagon, and his roars did not prevent an air of lively interest in his surroundings. His face was tear streaked, and he cried with the air of one who never intends to stop. A girl, rather smaller, followed. She clutched her brother firmly by the back of the blouse and allowed him to drag her forward. Her eyes were screwed tight shut, her head was thrown back and she shuffled along, the very picture of woe. Three other children completed the mournful group. A larger girl, who staggered along under the weight of the fat baby she was carrying, and another small boy who stalked along, scowling unhappily, but with firm steps and squared shoulders as though he would not let himself be overcome by misfortune. "Oh, oh, _oh_!" cried the little girl. "Oh, oh, _oh_!" It seemed all she could say. "L--let l-loose of me!" roared the boy whose blouse she was clutching. "Please stop your crying," begged the older girl, setting the baby on his feet and shifting him to the other arm. "The police will come if you don't." "I don't care! Ow, ow, ow!" yelled the boy. Rosanna backed up to Minnie and stood there quite overcome. Not so with Helen, however. After a good look, she pushed through the leafy screen, jumped down the low bank and proceeded to ask questions. At the sound of her voice the small girl opened her eyes and her sobs dwindled to a steady sniffle. The boy stopped instantly. He looked ashamed. The big girl once more put down the baby, setting it on the bank, and the boy who had not cried stared off down the road, never giving Helen a glance. Presently the girl sat down with the baby and Helen dropped down beside her. Rosanna was filled with curiosity. "I am going down to see what it is all about," she said to Minnie. "Don't go too close, dearie; you might catch something," said Minnie, intent on her cross-stitching and not caring much what the matter was. Rosanna slipped shyly down the bank and stood beside Helen. "She is telling me about it," said Helen, turning to Rosanna. "She earned the carfare to bring them out here for the afternoon by digging weeds on lawns. Go on!" "Well," said the strange girl, "we took the car, and got out here, and I had to carry the baby and help Luella there, so I couldn't carry anything else. And Tommy wanted to carry the supper because he said he was the biggest, and he wouldn't let Myron even take hold of the basket. And when we got off the car Luella fell down and bumped herself, and the car went off, and then I asked Tommy where was the lunch, and he had left it on the car! He always forgets everything. I oughtn't to have let him have it, but, you see, I had the baby and had to help Luella. Tommy wanted to run after the car, but it was 'most out of sight. He couldn't ever catch it." "So that's all the trouble. They want their supper, and there isn't any. I have a bottle of milk in my bag for the baby, but that is all there is except carfare home, and I'm sorry but p'raps next time Tommy will think how he leaves good suppers on street cars. We were going to have bread and butter and doughnuts and three plums apiece." At the mention of the lost feast, Tommy burst out with even greater noise. Luella's eyes closed and her sniffles changed to a low howl. "I'm hungry!" roared Tommy. "I didn't go to lose the supper. I gotta have sumpin' to eat!" "No, you haven't either," said the girl. "You haven't got to have anything to eat any more than Myron has. Why don't you act like Myron? I'd be ashamed of myself, and you a whole year older!" "That's just it!" said Tommy, stopping long enough to talk. "Myron's littler and thinner, and he don't need it so much." "Well, I bet he does!" said his sister. "Now you come along down to the playgrounds, and you can each have a good big drink of water and then you won't mind missing your supper." She stood up wearily and shouldered the baby. She was a sweet looking little girl, but careworn as though she had carried the baby most of his life. And so she had. The other children started down the road, Tommy and Luella silent for the time. It had been a comfort to tell their troubles to someone. "Good-by," said the strange girl, smiling over her shoulder. She kissed the baby. "Shake a paddy good-by," she said, and a little dimpled hand wagged a farewell at Rosanna and Helen. "We're very sorry," said Helen. "Good-by!" "Good-by!" echoed Rosanna. They scrambled up the bank and stopped, staring. In the middle of the grassy lawn that they had chosen for their picnic ground stood the lunch hamper. It looked as big as a house! "Bread and butter and three plums apiece," said Helen under her breath. "Bread and butter and three plums apiece," echoed Rosanna. "Helen," she said solemnly, "this is the reason we packed such a lot of lunch. Come on!" She turned and dashed down the bank and along the shady road. For the first time in her life Rosanna was doing something that had not been suggested to her; something that was out of the regular order of things. She did not ask herself if the children belonged to nice families. She rather knew they had no family at all in the sense her grandmother always used. She did not stop to remember how shocked and horrified her grandmother would be if she could see her racing along trying to overtake the grubby little group of poor children. With Helen close behind, she skimmed around the first curve and spied them ahead. Rosanna and Helen commenced to call and wave their arms. The girl heard and once more set down the baby. Tommy heard and squeezed out a louder howl. Luella opened her eyes. Myron glanced at them and again turned away and stared down the road. Rosanna and Helen dashed up. "We want you to come and have supper with us," said Rosanna, with her sweet smile. "We have a lovely supper and we cooked most of it ourselves, and we brought a whole hamper full." Tommy shut up suddenly. This was something he could not afford to miss hearing. Luella showed that her eyes could open and be very large and round indeed. "I don't feel we had better," said the older girl slowly. She certainly looked very tired. "Oh yes, you must!" said Rosanna. "The basket holds just enough for eight people--grown-up people at that; and there are only three of us. Minnie thought we were crazy to pack so much, but the things looked so nice when they filled the boxes cramful. _Please_ do come!" "I don't know," she said hesitatingly. Helen looked at her and made a sign that Rosanna did not see. Then "I _thought_ you were a Girl Scout," she said. "Now that makes it all right for you to come to us because, as you see, I am a Girl Scout too, and you know we must serve each other when in need." A look of pleasure lighted the girl's face. "Why, if you are sure there is enough," she said. "I am so tired carrying the baby, it would seem good just to sit down and rest awhile. But Tommy eats a lot." "We don't mind that," said Rosanna. "I don't want a single bit of that supper left to carry home." The little procession turned and made its joyful way back to the lunch basket. Rosanna and Helen seated their little guests, and Minnie, her kind heart touched by the tired face and drooping shoulders of the little girl who had carried the heavy baby so far, took the child and commenced to play with it. The girls spread the paper lunch cloth smoothly on the ground and commenced putting the food on the table. Tommy stared with round eyes. Myron glanced at the feast and then looked away while, to everyone's astonishment, Luella commenced to cry. "My land of love, what's the matter now?" said Minnie, speaking over the head of the baby, who nestled happily in her lap. Everybody looked at Luella who mumbled something and sobbed right along. "What does she say?" asked Helen. The older girl looked dreadfully embarrassed. "I'm so ashamed of her," she exclaimed in a low tone. "She does think up such dreadful things! She is crying because those plums are green, and she knows I won't let her eat any." "Plums?" said Helen and Rosanna together. "Over there," cried Luella, sniffling and pointing. Both girls began to laugh, then stopped as they noticed the unhappy look on the large girl's face. "I don't wonder she thinks those are plums," said Helen. "I thought they were plums when I was little and always called them plums long after I knew they were olives. Here, Luella, you can eat one now if you wish, but I don't believe you will like them at all. I didn't when I was little." Luella took the offered dainty and popped it into her mouth. She managed to eat it, although she made awful faces. Tommy, watching her, did not ask for a serving. "Can I help?" said the strange girl politely. "I wish you would let me. I would feel better to do something when you are going to give us such a perfectly lovely supper." "Please sit still and rest," said Rosanna, smiling. "You want to feel real good and hungry when supper is ready, and I am sure you must be tired nearly to death. And if you would tell us your name.... We know which is Tommy, and Myron, and Luella, but we don't know the baby's name, nor yours." "The baby is little Christopher," said the guest, reaching over to pat the little hand, "and my name is Mary. You are Rosanna and you are Helen, and I heard them call you Minnie." "Perfectly right," said Minnie. "Will it hurt the baby to crawl around on the grass?" "Oh, no, indeed," said Mary. "He crawls all over. He gets some dreadful tumbles but he never cries. He has fallen out of bed so many times that we keep the floor all covered with pillows in front of the bed, and last week he fell down the cellar stairs. Tommy forgot and left the door open." "My good land, didn't it kill the poor child?" asked Minnie. "No, there was a bushel basket partly full of potatoes on the landing, and he fell into those and never hurt himself at all. He didn't even cry but a minute. He is the best baby we have ever had." "My land, you poor chicken, you!" said Minnie. "You talk like you was the mother of the whole bunch!" "I help a lot with them," said Mary simply, "and I guess they are 'most as much mine as mother's. You see she works and somebody has to take care of them. And it isn't such very hard work, especially since I joined the Girl Scouts. All the girls are so good, and have such a lot of good times, and oh, it makes everything different!" "What are Girl Scouts?" said Rosanna. Both girls looked at her in amazement. "I know what Boy Scouts are," she said hastily, "but I never heard of Girl Scouts." Helen patted her on the arm. "Well, Rosanna, some day I will tell you all about them, but now we must hurry and get the rest of the things on the table because I don't think Tommy will ever live if he has to wait much longer." "I know Myron is awfully hungry too," said Mary, smiling at her little brother. "He never says a word, but I can tell what he thinks. Myron is such a help to me. He is just as good at remembering things as Tommy is at forgetting them." "He helped to forget the lunch," said Tommy. Myron spoke up in self-defence. "No, I didn't! I was helping Mary pick up Luella and I thought you had it. You had it the last I saw." "I put it down after that," said Tommy as though that explained everything. "I think I will lay the baby down beside this tree and let him have his bottle," said Mary. "That will keep him quiet all the time we eat." "Wait a minute until we fix a nice place," said Minnie. She brought a couple of auto robes and made a smooth, soft bed under the tree. "There he is!" she said. Mary, who had been unwrapping wads of newspapers, produced a bottle of milk which she gave the baby. He settled down to a quiet enjoyment of his meal, and Mary sighed as she sat down at the edge of the tablecloth. "I _do_ hope you won't mind if I look at everything," she said. "I never _saw_ so many _lovely_ things in my life even in a delicatessen window." CHAPTER VII The children, very, very solemn but oh so thrilled, seated themselves on the grass and silently accepted the plates of good things that Helen and Rosanna dished out for them. It is to be said for the everlasting credit of the jello that it did _not_ melt, and the salad _did_ ride well, although Minnie had gloomily expected it to be "all over the place" as she expressed it. How those children did eat! Commencing with the ham sandwiches and the lettuce and egg sandwiches, and the cold hard-boiled eggs, and crackers and olives, and fruit salad, and very, _very_ thin iced tea with lemon in it, and jello for dessert! About half way through the smaller children commenced to thaw out and lose their shyness, and talk. _How_ they did talk! Myron said nothing (but that was expected of Myron). When at last Rosanna was tipping up the second thermos bottle to see if there was a drop of tea left, and they were all eating the last cookies very, very slowly, partly to make them last and partly because they were so full and comfortable, Rosanna happened to notice Myron. She motioned to Helen to look. Myron had not eaten everything. He had slyly lifted the tablecloth and had hidden under it a ham sandwich rather nibbled as to edge, a small pile of cookies (his share) and his plate of jello, which he had slipped off on a paper napkin. "He couldn't eat all his supper, and he is afraid we won't like it," whispered Rosanna. "I am going to ask him," said Helen. She stepped over to the boy, who was sitting close to his little pile of goodies as though trying to hide it. "Couldn't you eat all your supper?" Myron nodded. Mary glanced quickly at her brother, and said, "Why, Myron, _whatever_ are you trying to do?" Tommy piped up. "I guess he's going to take 'em home to eat on the way." "I am _not_!" said Myron hotly, stung into self-defence as usual by his brother. "I am _not_! Going to take it home to mamma and Gwenny. I haven't had a speck more'n my share. I counted every time, and everybody had four cookies 'cept Tommy. He had six. And I saved my sandwich out, and the jell!" Tears stood in Mary's eyes. "But it isn't polite, Myron, to take anything away without asking and, anyway, I know mamma and Gwenny will be satisfied to just hear about our good time, and they wouldn't want you to do such a thing." She tried to put the cookies back on the table but Myron clung to them stubbornly. "No, no!" he said. "They are _my_ things! I went without 'em, and I want to take them home to mamma and Gwenny. Gwenny never had any cookies like those. And the jell is so pretty. I put a egg in my pocket too." Myron's lip trembled, but he did not cry although Tommy giggled openly. "Of course you shall take them home to your mother! Who is Gwenny--your dog?" asked Rosanna. "Gwenny is my _sister_!" said Myron furiously. Rosanna felt that she always said the wrong thing. "Oh, excuse me, Myron," she said meekly. A shade of sorrow passed over Mary's bright little face as she said, "Gwenny can never go anywhere with us. She is sick, and never goes anywhere." "Sick in bed?" questioned Rosanna. "No, she has a wheel chair, and when her back doesn't hurt too much, she can be wheeled around the house and sometimes out in the yard. But she wouldn't want Myron to do anything like this, so rude." "But Gwenny never _had_ any cookies as good as those, and the jell is so pretty!" repeated Myron stubbornly. "I think it is so nice of you, Myron," said Rosanna. "I wish I had known about Gwenny too so I could have saved her some of my cookies. Let me help you do them up. You can take them to her just as you meant to, and I know she will like them because her little brother went without to save some for her. And some day soon, Myron, we will bring her a whole picnic for herself, and perhaps she will ask you to help her eat it." "I'll help her too," said Tommy, puffing up his chest. "I'd just as soon!" Minnie, bending over the hamper, whispered to Rosanna, "I'll bet he'll help her! My, my, how I do want to fix that boy! I wish my third sister from the oldest, Louisa Cordelia, had him for a while. I reckon one day with her would make him feel different on a good many subjects. Little pig!" Minnie's eyes snapped. Rosanna laughed. "I suppose he doesn't know any better, Minnie." "Know any better? Well, Miss Rosanna, Myron didn't need any help about remembering his poor hard-worked mother and his sick sister. I don't doubt Mary thought of 'em too, but she was too polite to say a word after all you have done for them. But poor little Myron didn't know it wasn't polite, so he just goes ahead and keeps part of his treat. If there are any cookies in Master Tommy's pockets, they will never get as far as his house." "Well, I think he _is_ selfish," said Rosanna regretfully. "But, Minnie, we must take some good things to that Gwenny. I think grandmother would want me to." After the supper things were all packed away in the hamper, everybody sat around and wondered what to do next. Then Rosanna had a fine idea. She seated herself next the shy little Myron and suggested that everybody should tell a story. Tommy and Myron looked rather wild. Rosanna saw the look, and said that she thought they ought to commence with Helen, because she looked as though she knew lots of stories. Helen said she didn't know so very many, but she was willing to try. "This is a really truly story about a little, little boy. He did not have any brothers or sisters, and he was very lonely and unhappy although he had nice clothes and plenty to eat. So he thought if he just had a little kitten or a dog to play with and live with he would be a good deal happier, and perhaps he would even get to be as happy as he could be. But his mother did not like to have dogs or cats around because they tracked up things, so she wouldn't let him have them. And somebody wanted to give him a canary but his mother thought it would be a lot of trouble to feed. And once he 'most got a pair of white rats with his Fourth of July money, but they simply wouldn't let him. So there he was; and he grew lonelier and lonelier and he used to sit on the top step and stare down the street and wish he might whistle at the dogs he saw, but he wouldn't for fear one of them might be looking for a home and then it would be so disappointed after he had patted it and been kind to it, if it had to go on again. "Well, one day there was a picnic down the river. The people went by boat and then landed at the picnic grove, and spent the afternoon. The little boy, whose name was Peter, went with his mother and aunt, and when they got to the grove his mother said to his aunt, 'I don't see any reason why Peter shouldn't walk around and amuse himself and play with some of those children.' And his aunt said, 'Yes, if he doesn't fall into the river,' and his mother said, 'Peter, you see to it that you don't go near the bank.' "Peter said 'yes, ma'am,' and really meant to mind. He walked off and pretty soon--oh, yes, I forgot to say that his mother gave him ten cents to spend for popcorn or on the merry-go-round. So pretty soon Peter saw a dog walking around with his tail sort of down as though he didn't know anybody and was not having a very nice time. Peter didn't call him, but he wished he knew the dog, he was such a pretty collie with beautiful long hair and such a nice face. Pretty soon the dog saw Peter, and quick as a wink he knew that Peter was lonely too, so he came up to him. They got to be friends in a minute and went walking off together, and Peter spent his ten cents for popcorn and shared it with the dog. "So they went around liking each other more and more, and when it came time for supper the dog lay right under Peter's chair, and Peter's mother said, 'Well, if you haven't picked up a dog! I declare that child beats all!' "After supper Peter and the dog walked around some more, and Peter knew that soon the boat would start and he would have to leave the dog and he felt worse and worse about it until he almost couldn't bear it at all. "And he was thinking so hard that he forgot what his mother had told him, and walked along the top of the bank by the river. It was a high bank and crumbly; and all of a sudden a piece broke off and Peter slipped and slid down, down into the river, and under he went. The next thing he knew he was on the bank, and his mother was crying, and there was a lot of people, and the dog was there wet as sop, and he was trying to lick Peter's face, and Peter's mother was letting him do it. And a man said, 'Madame, if it hadn't been for that dog, your son would have been drowned. I saw it all.' "Then Peter's mother kissed him, and patted the dog, and she said, 'Peter, if that dog has no home we will take him for your dog, and if he has, we will try to buy him.' But it turned out that the dog did not belong to anyone, and so Peter took him home, and had him for his dog always." "Why, that's a perfectly beautiful story!" exclaimed Rosanna, and all the children thought so too. "You ought to see _my_ dog," said Tommy. "He's a fighter, he is!" "How can you say that?" said Mary. "He is only three months old and can scarcely walk straight." "Well, I bet he will fight when he gets bigger." "He's not your dog anyhow," said Myron. "He's Gwenny's." "Yes, and Myron bought him for her at the Pet Shop with money he earned himself. It is a toy poodle, so he won't ever be big." "Now who tells the next story?" asked Rosanna. "I think it is Tommy's turn." "Don't know none," said Tommy. "Don't know _any_," his sister corrected him. "Go on and try, Tommy." Tommy breathed hard, then said rapidly: "Well, once over on the parkway two kids was playin', and a man came along drivin' a race horse, and it had got scared at a nautomobile, and was runnin' away, and the rein had broke, and the man he yelled, 'I'll give anybuddy a million dollars to stop this horse,' and one of the kids 'bout my size give a leap and grabbed the horse by the nose and stopped him. And the man jumped right out and give the kid a million dollars." "The saints forgive him!" said Minnie. She did not say who. "Mercy me!" said Rosanna. "What did he do with the money?" asked Helen. "Spent it," said Tommy promptly. "Went right down town and spent it." "What could he spend such a lot for?" asked Helen. "Spent it for candy and ice-cream cones and sody and cake, and he went to the circus and all the side shows, and Fontaine Ferry and bought a nautomobile and sling shot and everything." "My sister Louisa Cordelia ought to know you," said Minnie. "Don't want to know any girls," said Tommy rudely. Rosanna felt that it was time to change the conversation. "Now who next?" she asked pleasantly. "What story can Luella tell?" "I don't believe she can tell any story," said Mary, "but she knows some little verses she learned in school. They have such a sweet young lady for a teacher; mamma says she never saw anybody take such pains with the children as she does." She turned to Luella who was wriggling in embarrassment and biting her finger. "Speak something Miss Marie taught you, Luella honey." "Miss Marie?" said Minnie. "Miss Marie? What is her other name?" "Corrigan," said Mary. "Well, then, that's my younger sister," said Minnie proudly. "She's a teacher, and I _will_ say she is a good one. Nothing would do but she must go through normal school and teach. Seems like she was just made for it, so patient and loving." She cast a glance at Tommy. "Not much like my sister Louisa Cordelia, she isn't." "The children just love her to death," said Mary. "Go on, honey, and say the little piece about the little bird." Luella arose, breathed hard, curtseyed, and very sweetly recited, A little bird sat on a tree, And waved his little wing at me. He said, "This seems a pleasant day, I think perhaps I'll fly away." He bent his pretty little head, "I don't see any worms," he said. He shook his pretty feathers out. "It's growing cold without a doubt. When all the leaves have fallen down And all the trees are bare and brown, When snow is deep on dell and hill, And wintry winds are cold and chill, This would not be the place for me," He said, and teetered on his tree. "I know a land far, far away, Where winter is as warm as May." He waved a wing and winked an eye, And off he flew, "Good-bye, good-bye!" CHAPTER VIII All the children except Tommy clapped their hands when Luella finished. It did indeed sound sweet and she spoke it very prettily, waving her hand and winking her own eye at the end. Rosanna and Myron felt that their time had come. They looked at each other, but Minnie settled the question. "Now it is Miss Rosanna's turn," she said, "and then Myron's. Ladies first. Give us a real nice story, Miss Rosanna." "About robbers," said Tommy, chewing on a grass stem. "I don't know any about robbers," said Rosanna pleasantly, "but I do know one about a cat, or a kitten rather, and it really happened. Helen told one about a dog, and this is about a cat. "Once there were two little boys, Walter and Harold, and they were going a long, long way to their new home in the West where they were going to live. And they had a pet kitten that they wanted to take along so badly that fin'ly their mother and father said they might take it if they would carry it in its basket all the way and never ask anyone else to take care of it. So they said they would, and by-and-by they had everything packed up and ready, and when the time came, they started off and got on the train, kitten and all. "They had things for it to eat and milk for it to drink, and when the conductor was not in the car they used to take it out of its basket and pet it and play with it. And the kitten didn't mind it a bit. "Well, when they had been on the train a couple of days they let the kitten out, and Harold had it on his lap sound asleep. "But just when they were at a station and the train was standing still, something awfully exciting happened outside the window, and both boys forgot the kitten. She jumped down from Harold's lap and went along under the seats toward the end of the car. She thought she was going to have a nice little walk, but just then the brakeman came into the car and there was a kitten under one of the seats. He thought of course it had hopped on the car there at the station, so he took it up and put the poor little thing off the train, and then that _very_ minute the whistle blew and off they went. "It was a vestibule train, and when Walter and Harold found out that their kitten was gone they hunted every inch of the car over, and then hunted through the next car, thinking that she might have gone across the vestibule and into the other car. But she was not there. Just then along came the brakeman again and when the boys asked him if he had seen a kitten, he said, 'Why, sure! Was that _your_ cat? I thought she had hopped on the train back there at the last station, and I took her and put her off.' "Well, the boys felt so badly they didn't know what to _do_, and the brakeman said they would not stop at any station for sixty miles. Walter said he was going back to see if he could find her, but the brakeman said she was most likely gone by this time or somebody had picked her up. He was awfully sorry about it. "When they had gone the sixty miles the car stopped, but the boys didn't care to look out or anything. They just sat and thought about their little kittie, and Harold said, 'Seems as though I can hear her cry,' and Walter said, 'Don't say that again,' and then he looked funny, because he thought he could hear her himself! "Harold said, 'I suppose she is dead, and that is her ghost.' Walter said, 'No, it's not; even kitten ghosts don't make a noise. There it is again.' "And then they looked around very slowly, the way you do when you think something is going to happen and you don't know just what it will be, and there in the seat back of them was the brakeman and he was holding that kitten! "When he opened the car door he found her squeezed up in a corner of the top step, where she had ridden all that long way. When the brakeman tossed her off she knew that the boys were on the train, so she climbed right back, but she didn't get on quick enough to get into the vestibule before the door was shut, so she had to hang on and ride outside. She was scared nearly to death and jumped at every sound and trembled for days, but the boys petted her and comforted her, and by-and-by she felt all right. And there were lots of mice in the house they went to live in, and that took her mind off herself. And that's all of that," said Rosanna, smiling. "That's a nice story," said Minnie. "Now let's hear what Myron has to tell." Myron shook his head. "Oh, go on, Myron," said Helen. "Tell us a story, please, even if it _is_ short!" "Once there was a little boy," said Myron, without waiting to be teased. "Once there was a little boy and he had a mamma and two brothers and three sisters, and he grew up and made lots of money, and bought lots of nice things for his mamma, and his two brothers and his three sisters and that's all." "The dear lamb!" said Minnie. "That's the best story of the lot." "Mine was better," said Tommy. "Mine was a real feller." "Oh," murmured Minnie, "Louisa Cordelia has just _got_ to get hold of you, young man!" "I suppose it is my turn now," said Mary, "as long as you want to save Minnie for the last. Could you let me say you a little poetry, or was Luella's enough? I think some poetry sort of mixes things up a little." "I think poetry is _lovely_," said Rosanna sweetly. "We loved Luella's verses." "Well, then I will say some instead of a story." Mary cleared her throat and, rising, made a little bow. UNAFRAID The day I die, I'll quickly go Past all the angels, row on row, Straight up to God; I'll know His face Even up there in that new place. In Sunday School, the way they teach, God is almost too great to reach. They act a little bit afraid; Because the world and all He made. But if He made the heavens blue, He made the sweet wild violets too; And Oh, what careful work it took To plan the small trout in the brook. I know He's just the very size Of father; with most loving eyes. Just big enough so one like me Can safely lean against His knee. "Those were lovely verses," said Minnie when Mary had finished. "I wonder who wrote them." "My teacher wrote them," said Mary. "I think they are real nice." "I do think it is a waste of time for me to tell a story," said Minnie. "First you know the machine will be here and then we will have to hurry home." "I would like to hear you tell a story ever so much," said Mary. "I know it would be a nice one, but I must be starting along pretty soon. It is a long way from here to the car track, and I have to stop so often on account of the baby being so heavy. It is so funny about babies, they seem to get so heavy toward night." "Indeed they do after you have lugged them about all day," said Minnie. "I say I know all about it, dearie." "We are not going to let you walk at all," said Rosanna. "We are going to take you wherever you live right in the car." "Nautomobile ride! Nautomobile ride!" chanted Tommy, tossing his cap. "I think you are just too good," said Mary. "Will your automobile hold such a lot?" "Oh, yes, indeed, and more too!" said Rosanna, glad for once that she had a big Pierce-Arrow. CHAPTER IX "I hear the car coming," said Minnie. Everybody listened, and sure enough the big car rounded the bend and drew up at the bank with a mighty blast of the horn. Tommy yelled in reply and bolted for it, the others following, loaded down with the empty hamper and rugs, and by no means least, the baby, awake now and very happy after his sleep. Minnie marshalled them into their places, putting the two boys on the front seat with Mr. Culver, and off they rolled. When they reached the little house where the children lived, Mary thanked Rosanna and Helen and Minnie and Mr. Culver again and she would have liked to thank the car too, and the hamper. Even Tommy managed to say, "Much obliged!" before he rushed to the house so he could have the fun of telling all about it before Mary could get there. But Mary did not mind. This was something that would have to be told over and over a dozen or twenty times. She stood with Luella and Myron, the baby looped over her arm, and watched the car disappear with a feeling of happiness and gratitude that filled her thin little frame to overflowing. When the car reached the great white steps of Rosanna's house, the two little girls said good-night. "I never had such a nice, lovely, beautiful day in all my life, Rosanna," she said. "And all because you were so good and kind." "You would have thought of it just the same," said Rosanna, blushing. "But oh, Helen and Minnie, _wasn't_ it lucky that we took such a lot of lunch?" "Well, it did turn out so," said Minnie. The car rolled away, and Rosanna and Minnie went into the big, cool hall. On the table was a letter addressed to Rosanna in her grandmother's stiff, precise handwriting. Rosanna took it up with a sort of groan. "That's to tell when she is coming home, of course," she said. "I won't read it until I am all undressed. Everything is going so beautifully and I am learning such a lot and having such a lovely time that it doesn't seem as though I could bear to have it come to an end." "I think you ought to read your letter, Rosanna," Minnie said. "I don't believe in leaving things. You expect bad news in that letter and you are having a horrid time all the time you are getting ready for bed. You couldn't feel any worse if you opened it. And suppose there was good news in it? Then you would wish you had found it out before, wouldn't you?" "I suppose so," said Rosanna listlessly. She sighed and, taking the letter, tore off the end of the envelope and commenced to read. The second sentence caused her to cry out. She turned to Minnie, hugged her, and cried, "Oh, Minnie, you are so wise! Just listen to this!" The letter read: "My dear Granddaughter Rosanna: "What news I have had from home leads me to believe that you are well and being nicely cared for. "Since this is the case, I feel that it will be possible for me to remain here in the East for a few weeks with your Uncle Robert. He is not ill, you understand, but is run down and nervous from the effects of his wound and many trying experiences abroad. He is fussing because he has lost track of a soldier friend of his, the man who saved his life. He is doing all he can to trace him, as he feels--and of course so do I--that we could never do enough to repay the debt we owe him. "About yourself, I hope you will have a good time. Do not forget to practice. Mrs. Hargrave spoke of seeing a very interesting child at our house. I am very glad you have found among your acquaintances one whom you would like to make your friend. I can trust you, Rosanna, to choose wisely. And I am glad to see that Mrs. Hargrave says that this Helen somebody comes of an old Lee County family. I cannot read the name. Mrs. Hargrave is a very careless penman. Always write distinctly, Rosanna. It is one of the many marks of good breeding. "Your Uncle Robert sends his love. He is anxious to see you. "Your loving grandmother, "VIRGINIA LEE HORTON." Rosanna read the letter twice. Then she turned and looked at Minnie. "It's good and bad too, isn't it, Minnie? You know Helen is _not_ one of the Culvers of Lee County, but she is just as good and sweet as though she belonged to all the Lee County Culvers in the world. Minnie, what shall I do?" "You must do what you think right, dearie," said Minnie, her kind, wise eyes searching the girl's face. "I can't tell you what to do. You must decide for yourself. It's one of the biggest things in the world to learn; that is, to decide what is right and wrong without someone telling us." She kissed Rosanna good-night and left the room. A moment later she returned. "Mrs. Hargrave just telephoned, dearie, that she wants you and Helen to take luncheon with her to-morrow." Once more she bade the little girl good-night, and Rosanna, tired out, fell asleep before the door was closed. She did not see Helen the next day until time for luncheon, but when she waked up she found a book lying beside her bed. Helen had sent it over to her. It was all about the Girl Scouts, and their rules and duties and pleasures, and Rosanna found it hard work not to sit down and read instead of taking her cold bath and dressing herself. Then after breakfast came the history lesson and the music and dressing again, and when Helen, very crisp and dainty, came in ready to go to Mrs. Hargrave's, she found that Rosanna had not had time to read a single line. Mrs. Hargrave lived three houses away, and the children felt very important and fine, especially Helen, who had never been asked to luncheon with a grown-up lady before. Her eyes grew round when they entered the house. It was so dim and cool and "old timey" as Helen put it. Mrs. Hargrave always dressed in the latest fashion for old ladies, yet somehow she always looked as though she belonged to another day and time. When she drove about the city she scorned the modern automobile. She went in the spickest and spannest little carriage drawn by an old, sleek and still frisky roan horse with a gold mounted harness and her driver was a colored man as haughty and aristocratic looking as Mrs. Hargrave herself; perhaps a little more so. She advanced to meet the two little girls with a charming manner that made them curtsey their very prettiest and caused them to feel more important and grown up than ever. During luncheon Mrs. Hargrave said: "Will your brother return to college now that the war is over, Helen?" Helen looked up in surprise. "I think you have me mixed up with some other little girl, Mrs. Hargrave," she said. "I have no brother." Mrs. Hargrave stared at her guest. "Are you not Lucius Culver's youngest child?" she questioned. "The Lee County Culvers?" "No, Mrs. Hargrave," said Helen. "I am John Culver's daughter." "Another family," said Mrs. Hargrave and changed the subject politely by asking Rosanna what she had heard from her grandmother. Helen sat thinking. She was a straightforward, honest little girl, and somehow she felt as though she was sailing under false colors as far as Mrs. Hargrave went. She felt sure of Rosanna; Rosanna did not care whether she was poor or rich, and it made no difference at all to her that Helen's father worked for Mrs. Horton. But some people were different, Helen reflected. Twice Mrs. Hargrave had spoken of Helen being one of the Culvers of Lee County, and Helen wondered if it would make any difference to the fine old lady sitting there in her soft, shimmery silks, with the long string of real pearls about her neck if she thought the little girl sitting there as her guest was living over a garage back of Mrs. Horton's elegant home. It puzzled Helen and troubled her. But try as she might, not once did the talk turn so she could bring in what she felt she wanted Mrs. Hargrave to know. It just _wouldn't_ come about. After luncheon was over Mrs. Hargrave took the children and showed them some of the strange and curious things about the house. Then she had a delightful suggestion to make. She herself was obliged to go down town to see her lawyer and she thought it would be very nice for the girls to come for a little ride. To Rosanna, used only to automobiles, and Helen who rode most of the time in street cars, the idea of riding along after the proud gold-harnessed, frisky old horse in the spick-and-span carriage was a treat and an adventure. Making themselves politely small and quiet, sitting on either side of Mrs. Hargrave, they went trotting down Third Street, turned by the big white library building, and continued down Fourth Street where they eyed the crowds, read the giddy signs in front of the movie houses and looked at the window displays. While Mrs. Hargrave talked to her lawyer, the girls sat in the carriage and pretended that they were grown-up ladies. When Mrs. Hargrave came out, they started up Fourth Street. "Do you know," said Mrs. Hargrave, "this is the first time in all my life that any little girls have visited me without their mothers? And I have had the _nicest_ time I think I ever had. I want to remember it always." She gave the signal to stop, and asked the children to get out. "There is something I want to get here," she said, and led the way into a big jeweler's shop. The two girls stopped to look at the rings in the case near the door, but Mrs. Hargrave called them. "I need a notebook and pencil and I thought you would like to help me select it. I am a rather fussy and very forgetful old lady." She did seem fussy over that notebook, but finally chose a dainty gold one with a square in the center for initials. Attached by a tiny gold chain was a slender pencil with a blue stone in the top. Then, to their amazement, the clerk laid two others exactly like it on the counter. Three just alike! "I think it would be nice for us all to remember our pleasant day, don't you?" asked Mrs. Hargrave, smiling. "I want to give you each one just like this one that I am getting for myself. Then we will think of each other whenever we use them." Helen lifted Mrs. Hargrave's delicate old hand and laid it against her cheek. "Oh, Mrs. Hargrave," she cried, "I will _never_ forget you. I don't need the notebook, but it is too lovely, and I will keep it as long as I live." Mrs. Hargrave's eyes filled with tears. "Bless your heart!" she said. CHAPTER X The very next day Mrs. Hargrave was called into the country to see a sick cousin. She telephoned Minnie before she left and told her that she felt that things were going along as well as anyone could possibly expect, and that she was delighted with Rosanna and her little friend. This message distressed Minnie for she was just about to go to see Mrs. Hargrave. Minnie was not happy. Silly and foolish as it was, she well knew that the proud old Mrs. Horton would not be willing to accept as poor and simple a child as Helen for Rosanna's closest friend, no matter how sweet and well mannered she might be. Minnie, who knew real worth when she saw it, despised Mrs. Horton for her overbearing ideas, but what to do she didn't know. She feared a storm if she let things go until Mrs. Horton's return, yet she dreaded a separation for the children, when they might enjoy each other for two or three weeks longer. Rosanna was improving daily. Minnie was pleased and proud to see how she continued to do for herself and learn in every way to be independent. Her sewing was wonderful. She was working eagerly on a little dark blue dress like Helen's for herself, and with Minnie's help was even putting a little simple cross-stitching on the cuffs and yoke. Rosanna was prouder of that dress than of anything she had ever had in her beautiful, crowded wardrobe. Minnie felt that she wanted to consult with someone, and the most sensible person she knew was Mrs. Hargrave. But with Mrs. Hargrave away, all Minnie could see to do was to let things go along, and "trust to luck" as she put it. Minnie didn't like "trusting to luck" at all; and every time she saw the two children playing together so happily and busily she shook her head and sighed. Rosanna, too, in a dim way was feeling troubled, because she too knew her grandmother, and remembered other times when she had been severely scolded for trying to make friends with children whose parents did not measure up to the standard set by Mrs. Horton. In fact, for all the seeming happiness, no one was wholly happy but Helen! Helen had been taught by her wise young mother that the most important things in life are not to be measured as anything that money can buy. According to Mrs. Culver, a little girl must be obedient and truthful and well behaved and kind. She must have a low and pleasant voice and be able to sit in the presence of her elders without trying to enter the conversation unless asked to do so. These things she had taught Helen, and her little girl had been a ready pupil. Mrs. Culver was justly proud of her. Rosanna was just a bit afraid. And the fear caused her to go in a line that was not _perfectly_ straightforward. She was sorry enough for it afterward--sorrier than she thought she could ever be. But that did not mend things in the least. Because she did not know just how to turn around and explain everything to her grandmother and still be sure of her happy time, to say nothing of protecting her dear Helen from distress, when she answered her grandmother's letter she wrote as follows: Dear Grandmother: "I was glad to get your letter, and I am glad Uncle Robert is home again. Give my love to him, please. I am glad you are having a good time, and I hope you will stay away as long as you like. I am having a very good time. Oh, grandmother, I am having a lovely time. What do you think? Mrs. Hargrave had Helen and me to luncheon with her, and she likes Helen as much as I do, only she doesn't belong to the Lee family, and after luncheon Mrs. Hargrave took us down town with her, and before we came home she bought each of us a gold notebook with a gold pencil on a gold chain fastened to it. She bought herself one too so we each have one just like a secret society. "I am learning to cook and to sew. I am making myself a dress. It is very pretty. I shall make a good many of my dresses after this. It saves a good deal of money, Minnie says, and I can help the poor with it. "We went out to Jacobs Park for a picnic, and five poor little children had lost their basket of supper. So I thought what you would do if you saw five little children who had lost their supper, and I asked them to have supper with us. There was enough, on account of our taking Uncle Robert's hamper, and Uncle Robert always liking to be generous. "We have planned a great many things. If they don't all get done before you come home, grandmother, perhaps you will enjoy doing them too. "I am learning a great deal about the Girl Scouts. I want to be one. "Did you know our cook has a little lame boy at home? I was glad to find it out. It is one more person to be kind to. I have sent him all my set of puzzle pictures. "Minnie is planning to get married. She has a trunk of things. When you come home won't it be nice because we can go down town and buy something for her. She will like something you have given her. "She likes you very much, I am sure, because she always says, 'Well, all I can say is there's not many like your grandmother in this world.' "I think it is so nice to be liked. I want to grow up to be liked. I think being a Girl Scout will help. Helen says all sorts of girls belong, rich as well as poor, and that it broadens you. "This is a long letter, grandmother, but I had a good deal to tell you. So please have a good time, grandmother, and I am your loving little girl "ROSANNA." Minnie sent a letter too. It read: "Mrs. Horton: "I wish to report that everything seems to be going smoothly. Mrs. Hargrave has taken a great liking to Miss Rosanna, and her new friend Miss Helen, and likes to have them with her. Miss Rosanna practices and studies faithfully, and her music teacher says she never had such a bright pupil. I have her take a rest in the middle of each day. The day you left she broke her bottle of tonic, and I could not get more, as you have the prescription. But I do not think she needs it. She has gained two pounds since you left us. I give her hair a hundred strokes each night. I think she wants to bob her hair, it is so very long and heavy, but I tell her not for worlds, as you are so proud of it. "We are keeping to the routine you ordered except when Mrs. Hargrave has made some slight change, but of course I know that is all right, as you told me she might wish to do so. "Respectfully, "MINNIE." And Mrs. Hargrave wrote from the country a letter full of praise for both little girls and for Minnie. Mrs. Horton received all three letters the same day. She slipped them away in her portfolio, thinking as she did so, with a smile, of Cousin Hendy's trunks full of letters. One thing troubled her a little. It seemed as though she could see in all the letters evidences that little Rosanna was undergoing some slight changes in her way of thinking and acting. And Mrs. Horton did not care to have Rosanna change in the least. She was perfectly satisfied the way she was. It had not occurred to Mrs. Horton to wonder if poor little motherless Rosanna was satisfied with her pampered, lonely life. Mrs. Horton had Rosanna's life all mapped out. However, she remembered the high stone wall and reflected that the child could see very little of the outside world if she was kept behind that. CHAPTER XI How the time did fly! The days were not long enough for all the two girls crowded into them. In a few weeks Helen would be going away to a Scout camp where dozens of girls would live in tents and row and swim and fish and cook and listen to wise and sympathetic talks from their leaders. Helen knew all about it from past trips, and she spent hours while they sat working on their presents for Mrs. Hargrave, whose birthday was rapidly approaching, telling Rosanna all about their good times. Rosanna felt that she never could bear it if she couldn't be a Girl Scout. Helen, not knowing Mrs. Horton, did not see how any grown person could refuse such a request and she told Rosanna so. They had made a great many plans for Mrs. Hargrave's birthday. She was coming to take dinner with them. Mrs. Hargrave never looked more beautiful nor more imposing than when she arrived. The two girls were overcome with pride as they saw their guest descend from her little carriage and, laying her hand on the arm of the old colored man who attended her, walk slowly up the steps. When dinner was served, it was perfectly splendid to hear Mrs. Hargrave exclaim over the flowers and the favors and everything. During the meal the children told Mrs. Hargrave what they hoped to be. Rosanna wanted to be an artist. Helen said she intended to grow up and marry and be the mother of a family. "Bless my soul!" said Mrs. Hargrave, staring at her. "What put that in your head?" "Something mother learned in college," said Helen simply. "She believes it, and of course so do I. There was a teacher in college who was very wise, mother says, and he warned them and warned them against what he called popular complaints. He said they must always be careful before they joined anything and promised to uphold it to understand _exactly_ what it was and how far it would lead them. He said it didn't matter whether they were thinking of going into a nunnery or joining the Salvation Army or the Suffragets or what else, they wanted to ask themselves could they lift themselves and help humanity by doing that thing. And he said in this day and age when there were so many dissatisfied people everywhere, he thought the most important thing in the world was to teach everyone, and especially children, the love of country." "Wise man," said Mrs. Hargrave, nodding. "What else?" "He told them that love of country was not boasting about where you came from, and telling everybody how high the corn grows in New York, or how blue the grass is in Kentucky or things about places like that. He says that is nothing but bragging. But he said what people needed was to love all their country, east and west and south and north, to try to understand one another and to pull together for the United States. "And he said that if every one of those girls who married and had children would teach them this as hard as ever they could, some day the states would really be united, and wiser laws would be made, and all the young Americans would love their country and be willing to live for her. He said it is harder to live faithfully for anything than to die for it because it takes so much longer." "Bless my soul!" said Mrs. Hargrave again. "Go on!" "That's all," said Helen. "I don't see what else I can do except teach some children of my own about it, do you, Mrs. Hargrave?" "I think that would be the finest thing you could do," said the childless old lady. "Quite the finest! Are you going to college?" "I want to," said Helen, "if we can afford it. We are saving up for it all the time." "How do you save?" asked Mrs. Hargrave. She was certainly a curious old lady. "Well," said Helen, "I wear my hair docked, and that saves a lot in hair ribbons, only this fall mother says I must let it grow. When mother takes me to buy a coat, we look at _two_ good ones that will last two winters, but perhaps one has pretty braid or something on it, that makes it cost more. Then if one of us looks as though we wanted it the other one whispers, 'Rah rah rah, college ah,' which is our own college yell, and we take the _plain_ one. "Lots of ways it looks to be harder on mother than it is on me. I know she goes without so many things she would love--lectures and concerts and all that. I just _hate_ that part!" "I am glad you do," said Mrs. Hargrave. "Helen and I are hoping that we can go to college together," said Rosanna. "Rosanna is so dear," said Helen. "She wants to help me save, but of course that won't do." "I don't see why not," said Rosanna. They had talked this over many times. "Do you see, Mrs. Hargrave? I never spend my allowance." "No," said Mrs. Hargrave, "it wouldn't do at all. In the first place Helen is earning her education in a lovely way, and your allowance is given you. It is no effort for you to get it, so it does not benefit you, my little dear. Helen must go on herself. Her help could only come from a fairy godmother." "There are no fairy godmothers," said Rosanna bitterly. "I was beginning to think there might be," said Mrs. Hargrave. "No," said Rosanna. "If there was a fairy godmother, just one in all the world, she would come and make my grandmother let me go out of the garden and know lots of little girls and go to school and be a Girl Scout." Mrs. Hargrave sat thinking as she tasted her ice. Then she asked, "What are these Girl Scouts?" "I have all the books," said Helen eagerly. "May I bring them around to show you? Then you can see just why Rosanna wants to be one. I am sure Rosanna could not be hurt by knowing a lot of little girls and learning all the things that are required of the Girl Scouts." "Why should she be hurt?" said Mrs. Hargrave. "Why, grandmother thinks I should not go out of my class." "Class is all right," said Mrs. Hargrave. "It is very necessary, but what you want to look for, Rosanna, is _worth_. Suppose Helen here was not in your own class. Suppose her father was a laboring man of some sort, and she lived away from this part of town, that wouldn't change Helen." Helen looked up in amazement. "But my father is--" Mrs. Hargrave interrupted. "I will tell you what I will do, Rosanna, I will talk to your grandmother myself if she makes any objections to your going to school and all the rest." She rose as she spoke, and they wandered out to the rose garden where coffee was served for Mrs. Hargrave and where the children offered their gifts. When she went home at last, she put an arm around each child. "This is the happiest birthday I have had. Good-night, and thank you! I will help you all I can, Rosanna, and I feel very sure, Helen, that your savings or the fairy godmother will take you to college with Rosanna. Two little girls as nice and sweet and well-bred as you ought to be friends all your lives." She kissed them both and, carrying her presents, went down the steps leaning on the arm of her servant. "I feel full of a happy sadness," Rosanna sighed. "I don't see why, do you?" "No," said Helen, "only that she is so perfectly lovely. She is just as though there was two parts to her. The outside pretty, but old and wrinkled and kind of high and grand, while there is somebody just too sweet, and real young and dancy and loving on the inside. And the inside one can never grow old at all, but will go right on understanding how you feel, and when the outside gets too old to last any longer, why, she will just go and be a young, young angel." "I guess that's it," said Rosanna. "But what a fuss there is about class and position and where you were born, isn't there?" "Yes," said Helen. "When she was talking about workingmen I tried to tell her about my father working for your grandmother." "Yes, she interrupted you," said Rosanna. "I don't see as it makes any difference what he does. No matter what _any_body thinks, Helen, we are going to be friends? You promised me that." "Of course," said Helen. "Well, it was a nice party, wasn't it, Helen? I think Mrs. Hargrave did truly have a good time." When Helen went home that night she was very quiet. Her mother thought she was tired, but Helen was thinking. She loved Mrs. Hargrave dearly, and she wanted her to know some things that she evidently was all mixed up about. The following morning she did not go over to see Rosanna. Instead she dressed with even greater care than usual and went slowly around to Mrs. Hargrave's, where she found her in a bright little morning room, sitting before a large desk. "I wanted to tell you something," said Helen, "and I am going to get it all mixed up. I sort of have the feeling that _everything_ is mixed up and that I am doing something that is not quite right. So I came over to you. I didn't even tell mother because I was afraid it would worry her. You see _she_ doesn't understand either." "Dear me, how mysterious!" said Mrs. Hargrave. "It is like this," said Helen, plunging into the middle. "You have been so good to me that I want to tell you that I am not one of the Culvers of Lee County or any other county. I am just the plainest sort of a little girl. I have the nicest father and mother in the whole world, but they are poor, and my father does work. He works for Mrs. Horton; he is her chauffeur, and we live in the apartment over the garage. "What will she say, Mrs. Hargrave, when she knows what a plain little girl I am? I thought I would come and tell you about it. I don't see what difference being poor makes if one tries to be nice inside, do you?" "No," cried Mrs. Hargrave. "It makes no difference at all. Don't let anyone make you think that. And your coming to tell me this shows me just what sort of a child you are," and she kissed Helen. "Now, let's get this thing all straight as far as you understand it, my dear, and then I will tell you what I think about it." So for a long time they sat together, Helen's hand in Mrs. Hargrave's while Helen told all about herself and her friendship with Rosanna, and Mrs. Hargrave chuckled when she thought of her letters to Mrs. Horton and how she had innocently misled her. CHAPTER XII Rosanna had just finished her luncheon that very same day, when she heard Minnie talking to someone over the telephone. Minnie, seeing Rosanna behind her, merely said yes and no and hung up as soon as she could. "What are you planning to do, Miss Rosanna?" she asked. "This afternoon?" said Rosanna. "Well, Helen is coming over with her mother and we are going to sit on the porch of the playhouse and sew. Helen and I are going to make a couple of rompers for Baby Christopher. Helen and her mother went over to see Gwenny the other day, and Mrs. Culver says that baby actually has nothing to put on. And there is no money to buy anything with because Gwenny has had to have a new brace that cost thirty dollars. Oh, Minnie, will I be rich when I grow up?" "Yes, you will," said Minnie. "How much; millions?" wistfully. "A good lot anyhow," said Minnie. "Oh, I am so glad!" said Rosanna. "I am going to make so many people happy with it. There is such a lot of things you can do with money, Minnie, to help people. I was so sorry when I heard about that brace. I am going to save more of my allowance after this and keep listening so I will hear when somebody wants something like that. Only there are some things that you can't buy with money. I couldn't buy Helen, could I? And I couldn't buy Mrs. Hargrave." Minnie started. "No, dearie, you couldn't," she said. "And I have got to trot along now because I have to go out this afternoon, and if Mrs. Culver and Helen are coming over, I know you will be all right." Rosanna found her little workbasket and, taking a book to read until her guests came, went over to the playhouse and commenced rocking in one of the little wicker chairs. Minnie dressed carefully but plainly and went out. Rosanna would have been much surprised if she had seen her hurry down the street and turn into Mrs. Hargrave's big house. Mrs. Hargrave was waiting for her and after a kindly greeting she said: "Minnie, I want you to tell me all about this Culver family, and how Rosanna found Helen, and how they happen to be such good friends, and how it is that you allowed it when you know just how Mrs. Horton feels about family and all that." Minnie did not flinch. "I have been wanting to come and tell you all about it," she said, "but I thought that you would find out things from the children. Mrs. Horton just won't let Rosanna know _any_ children at all. But I don't feel like saying all I would like to say, seeing how I work for Mrs. Horton." "You would free your mind, I reckon, if you were at your own home, wouldn't you?" "Yes, ma'am, I would!" said Minnie. "Well, then," said Mrs. Hargrave, "suppose you and I talk as though we were just a couple of human beings who want to do a kind turn for two little girls. That Helen child was over here this morning, to tell me that she was afraid I thought she belonged to some fine family like the Culvers of Lee County. Lee County indeed! Those Culvers are scalawags, every man of them! She is lucky she doesn't own one of them for a father. "And the honest little angel was afraid I would be disappointed when I found out who she really is. Well, Minnie, I was never so pleased with a child in my life! I am going to do something for her some day. "Now I want to hear from you just how this friendship started. It seems a letter that I wrote to Mrs. Horton put the seal on it and I want to know where we all stand." "Whatever we do there is going to be an awful fuss," said Minnie, sighing. She sat on the edge of the chair facing Mrs. Hargrave and told that lady more of Rosanna's lonely, friendless little life than Mrs. Hargrave had ever guessed. She told her of the difference in Rosanna since Helen had come, and her fears for the child if Mrs. Horton should come back and forbid their friendship. "I shall just leave!" concluded Minnie. "Don't be an idiot!" said Mrs. Hargrave, frowning. "That would be a nice thing to do with Rosanna heartbroken. Now, Minnie, all there is to this is that Mrs. Horton years and years ago had a younger sister who eloped with a no-account man whom she met when she visited his sister. They were really very common people, and Mrs. Horton's little sister died of a broken heart. "When Mrs. Horton married, her children were boys, as you know, and she carried her bitterness in her heart until her son's little orphan girl came to live with her. She is making a great mistake with Rosanna and she must somehow be made to see it before it is too late. But that is the reason for her foolishness. "She adored her little sister, and she adores Rosanna. I am sorry the affair is so mixed up, but you just leave it to me. In the meantime do just as you are doing and give the girls all the chance you can to have a good time. I will stand back of little Helen if I have to adopt her. I suppose her parents are healthy?" Minnie giggled. "Yes, ma'am; healthy and real young." "Well, well, there must be some other way then," said Mrs. Hargrave, smiling. "To start, I will write Mrs. Horton a letter just before she returns, and I think a heart-to-heart talk will arrange things nicely." In the meantime, Mrs. Culver had helped the girls cut out two sets of dark, comfortable rompers, and Rosanna had sewed them up on her little machine. Mrs. Culver was also making a romper for Baby Christopher. Hers was a cunning one for Sunday, a little pink check with bands of plain pink, and buttons nearly as big as tea saucers sewed on wherever a button would go. Mrs. Culver was a wise woman, and she knew that Baby Christopher, small as he was, would have a good effect on his many brothers and sisters if he could be made beautiful and dressy on the one day in the week when the busy family had time to enjoy his cunning ways. So Christopher was to have three rompers--good, new, beautiful rompers of his own. While Mrs. Culver sat thinking the two girls talked about the opening of the Girl Scout troop in the school Helen was to enter in the fall. CHAPTER XIII One morning Mrs. Hargrave was called to the telephone to speak with Mrs. Culver. Mrs. Culver wanted to know if Mrs. Hargrave thought it would be all right to take the two girls to Fontaine Ferry for the afternoon, eat their supper there, and return when the children had had a chance to see the electrical display. "It is the sort of a place one always wants to see once, like Coney Island," she said, "and I think the girls are about the right age to have a good time there for a few hours without being disillusioned." Mrs. Hargrave agreed with her. "It will be a wild adventure for Rosanna," she said. "I have faith in Helen keeping her head, but you must watch Rosanna. If she looks too feverish, bring her home, please." "I will indeed," promised Mrs. Culver. "Of course you will; I am not afraid," said Mrs. Hargrave. "Send the children around here before you start." Once more Uncle Robert's hamper was dragged out and stocked with good things. They were to start at three o'clock. When they were ready they went skipping down the street to Mrs. Hargrave's house. "Well, Rosanna," she said, "I wonder what your grandmother will say to me when she finds out that I have given you permission to go to Fontaine Ferry? I know you will have a splendid time. I have never been there myself, and I am sorry that I can't go today. I am obliged to take the six o'clock train for the country. Cousin Hendy has sent for me post haste. She says she is at the point of death. I suppose this time it is cucumbers. They are about ripe now. "I want you both to remember everything you do, so you can tell me about it. If I stay in the country for a few days, Rosanna, I will write a letter to your grandmother telling her just what I think about a great many things, and urging her to let you join the Girl Scouts. "And as long as I can't go and have a good time spending my money, I want you children to take it and spend it for me. This is not for your education, Helen. I want you to promise to spend it, every bit." They kissed her good-by and calling their thanks went dancing away. The car was waiting, and off they went on the pleasant ride through the city and out Broadway. As there was plenty of time, they drove through Shawnee Park and along the bluff overlooking the Ohio River creeping sluggishly past. Then they turned, and went a short mile to the entrance to the Ferry. Parking the car, they went in, Mr. Culver bringing the hamper of supper. The Ferry is a very large place and every foot of it is covered with tan-bark, smooth and brown and springy. Rosanna felt as though she was walking in a riding academy. Everything was exquisitely clean. As the children walked along, they commenced to hear music everywhere and to see the merry-go-rounds whirling, the Ferris wheel spinning high in the air, the squeals from the shute-the-shutes, and hundreds of other fascinating noises. They found a place where they could check the hamper and coats, and sat down on a bench for a little to look around. Presently Helen's father said, "Well, we will have to start if we want to see everything. Shall we have a ride on the merry-go-round to start with?" Rosanna drew out her envelope. "We must spend our dollar," she said and tore it open. Helen did the same. Each envelope held a clean new ten dollar bill. The children looked at them in amazement. "And I can't use it for college!" Helen wailed. "She made me promise to spend it." When they reached the merry-go-round, they chose the wildest looking horses and mounted them in fear and trembling. When they had finished the wonderful five minutes, they tried the chariots. Then there was a certain camel that looked safe and steady, and Helen rode a lion. They wanted to ride all day, but Helen's father warned them that there were other things to see. They walked along looking everywhere at once when Rosanna gave a scream. She found herself looking into a mirror, clear and bright; but what had it done to Rosanna? She was really a thin little girl who had often had to take cod liver oil. In the mirror she gazed at a fat chunk with Rosanna's features and hair and about ten times Rosanna's breadth. It was quite terrifying. Then she heard an awed gasp from Helen followed by a shriek of laughter, and ran over to see what was left of Helen in a mirror that had drawn her out to the thickness of a needle. Together the girls looked and laughed. After they had torn themselves away from this amusement, they came to a booth where dozens of rings like embroidery hoops could be thrown over pegs in the wall. Each peg had a prize hanging above it: gold watches, diamond rings, wrist watches, gold and silver bracelets, and dozens of other things. But most of the pegs had little bright tin tags or medals and you had to get ten of those before you could exchange them for a near-gold breast-pin. Helen and Rosanna were very much excited over this, and could have been quite covered with medals. They would not throw the rings on any peg that was worth while. Finally they moved on in disgust, after paying the man about a dollar apiece. On a corner were a group of little burros, the tiny Mexican donkeys and children could ride along to the corner and back for ten cents. Nothing in the whole world could make those donkeys go off a slow walk. They knew perfectly well that it didn't pay to frisk up their heels and bolt, so they simply wagged an ear or flirted a tail if the children slapped them. "I suppose they have traveled to that corner fifty million times," said Helen, watching the solemn procession take its way with the donkey boys following close on the donkeys' heels and shouting to them to "Giddap!" "Poor dears!" said Rosanna. "How tired of it all they must be!" It took a lot of argument before they decided to try the Ferris wheel, but Rosanna wisely said that it would probably be the last chance _she_ would ever have to try it, and Helen said that she wouldn't want to come unless Rosanna could, so the children seated themselves and were strapped in the basket, and presently when all the little basket seats were full, off they went. It was perfectly frightful when you have just been a simple human being all your life and suddenly try sailing up and around all at the same time! At the top there was a drop, a sort of launching out right into space, and the girls clung to each other and shut their eyes. After they had rested awhile they went along, threading their way through the crowds until they came to the roller coaster. Here they sat in a little car which held four people, but Mrs. Culver still refused to leave the ground. They embarked from a little platform, and were in one car of a little train of four. On the other side of the platform four other cars were filling up. When all the seats were taken, someone gave a signal and off went the little trains down such a steep grade that their rush carried them far up another incline. This was repeated over and over until they had reached a great height. Here there was a sheer drop as straight as it could be made without taking the cars off the rails, and down they went, turning and twisting. All at once they were plunged into a pitch black tunnel. "Oh, oh, _oh_!" cried Rosanna. It was the first time she had screamed, but she did not hear herself because everyone else was screaming too. Then as suddenly as they had plunged into the dark, they came out into the light again, gave a few more turns and drops for good measure, and stopped at the very identical place where they started. They got out of their car, and staggered, rather than walked, over to Mrs. Culver, who was laughing at them. Rosanna's long curls were blown every which way around her small, dark face, and Helen's bobbed hair was sticking straight up. "There is a Trip to the Moon right over here," said Mr. Culver. "Don't you want to go?" "No, thank you," said Rosanna feebly, and Helen said, "Why, daddy, I couldn't bear another thing today! Let's go back and ride those nice steady wooden horses." They walked back to the merry-go-round, and spent a happy half hour riding the menagerie. After that it was time to get supper. It always takes a long time to eat a picnic supper, and dusk was close when at last they finished. One by one the stars came out and then as though touched by a great spring, Fontaine Ferry burst into a dazzling blaze of electric lights. Blazing, twinkling, winking, the lights hung or turned or whirled. White, colored groups, and single stars, among the trees, down the wide drive-ways, the Ferry had turned into fairyland. "This is the best of all," said Rosanna softly. "Isn't it?" answered Helen, her eyes wide. "How I wish Mrs. Hargrave could see it! That _young_ Mrs. Hargrave that is inside the old shell of a Mrs. Hargrave would have all sorts of pretty thoughts about it. Don't you know she would?" "Tomorrow you must come over real early," said Rosanna as they rode home, squeezing Helen's hand. "And I owe grandmother a letter. It will be easy to make a nice letter out of all we have seen. I wish Mrs. Hargrave would come home to-morrow." The car drove up before the big house, and Rosanna, tired out, but so very, very happy, thanked Mr. and Mrs. Culver and ran up the steps. The car waited, purring at the curb, to see that the door was promptly opened. Rosanna heard the lock shoot back and the knob turn. "It's all right," she said, looking down at the car. With a wave and a smile Mr. Culver drove off, and happy little Rosanna turned slowly, speaking as she did so. "Oh, Minnie dear, I have had the bestest sort of a time!" she said. "I only wish you--" She looked up. Her grandmother stood before her. "Why, grandmother, when did you get home?" said Rosanna with a smile, lifting her face to be kissed. Her grandmother did not bend down. Instead she stood very stiff and straight, looking at Rosanna with hard, cold, angry eyes that cut her like swords. "Go to your room!" said Mrs. Horton in a dreadful voice. CHAPTER XIV Rosanna turned pale, but she looked steadily into her grandmother's cold eyes. "I have done nothing wrong, grandmother," she said. "I--" "Go to your room!" repeated Mrs. Horton, pointing to the stairs. "I will attend to you later." Rosanna slowly climbed the broad staircase, clinging to the handrail and dragging her feet like a very tired old woman instead of a dear little happy girl. She felt herself trembling. Over and over she thought of what she had just said to Helen of her grandmother: "I am sure she means to be kind." Yet here, without a word of explanation, she was ordered to her room without a single greeting, as though she had indeed done something _very_ naughty. Reaching her room, she sat down on the side of her bed and tried to think it out. What had she done? Where was Minnie? Minnie: where was she? _Minnie_ could tell her what had come to pass to make her grandmother so angry. She walked unsteadily over to the table and pressed the electric button by which she always summoned Minnie when she needed her. Almost at once the door opened; but it was not Minnie. Mrs. Horton came in and closed the door. "What do you want?" she asked harshly. "I rang for Minnie," said Rosanna in a low voice. "You can get to bed as best you can," said Mrs. Horton. "Minnie will not be allowed to see you. Minnie has been discharged. She is untrustworthy, and I would have sent her packing to-night, but she insisted on her right to stay under this roof until morning. So she is in her room where I have ordered her to remain." "Can't I see her again ever, grandmother?" asked Rosanna, with trembling lips. "Certainly not!" said Mrs. Horton. "You are a bad, ungrateful child. Get to bed as best you can! I cannot trust myself to talk to you to-night. Tomorrow I will tell you what I think of the way you have acted in my absence." "I have not been naughty," said Rosanna. "I did just as you told me I could do. I saved your letter so I could show you if you said anything about it. Oh, grandmother, please, I have not been naughty! I have been so happy." "_Happy!_" sneered Mrs. Horton. "_Happy!_ There is a low streak in you. To think of the way you have been acting--I will see you to-morrow after I have seen Mrs. Hargrave, and when I can control myself." She swept from the room without saying good-night, and Rosanna remained seated on the bed, her head whirling, her mouth dry and quivering. Rosanna did not try to undress. Warm as it was, she was chilled to the bone. What would happen to Helen? And of course Mr. Culver would have to go. An hour went by, and another. She heard her grandmother coming up the stairs. Quick as thought she pressed the button and the room was pitch dark. Her grandmother approached her door, opened it a crack and listened. Hearing nothing, seeing nothing, she closed it and went on to her own room. Rosanna breathed freely again, and turned on the light. An overpowering desire to see Minnie swept over her. She _must_ see Minnie, must comfort her and be comforted. She felt that she would go mad if she had to spend the night alone. She looked at the little gold clock on her table. It was eleven o'clock. She slipped off her shoes, and noticed for the first time that she was still wearing her coat and hat. She tossed them aside, once more put out the light, and tiptoed toward the door. She was going to Minnie. With the greatest care she turned the knob and opened the door a crack. She opened the door wide and stepped into the blackness of the hall. Something soft and warm and human collided with her. Hands clutched her, and a well-known voice whispered, "Dearie!" After the first moment of fright, Rosanna felt herself go limp. She clung fast. "Oh, Minnie, Minnie!" she choked. "Hush!" whispered Minnie. She drew Rosanna into her own room, closed the door, and switched on the light. "Oh, my precious lamb!" she said. "What did she do to you? Oh, why didn't I come sooner? You look fit to die. Come, dearie, and let your Minnie do for you to-night." She took Rosanna on her lap and tenderly undressed her. Then she folded a warm kimono around the shivering, nervous child and, sitting down in a deep chair, took her on her lap and held her tight. Rosanna stiffened and sat up. "Suppose she comes in?" she said. "No danger!" said Minnie. "I turned the key." She laughed. "If she wants to see you again she will have to wait until to-morrow, no matter what. I don't intend to see that look on your pretty dear face much longer. Now tell your Minnie just what happened." "I don't seem to be able to remember much about it," said the tired and frightened child; "only when I came home,--and oh, Minnie, we _did_ have such a good time!--there was grandmother at the door instead of you. And she seems to think that I have done something that has disgraced her, and she won't tell me anything at all until to-morrow, only she told me to come to my room and go to bed if I could get to bed without you and she said you were untrustworthy--and--and that she had sent you to your room to stay until to-morrow, and then she is going to make you go, and oh, Minnie, Minnie, what _shall_ I ever do without you?" "There, there! Minnie will find some way of staying near you if she has to wear a wig and make believe she is somebody else entirely." "What _have_ I done?" asked Rosanna. "Was it all because we went to Fontaine Ferry? Mrs. Hargrave said I might go." "A little of it is that," said Minnie, "but the worst of her madness is because you have been playing with a little girl clean out of your own class, as she puts it, and she blames everybody. Everybody that she can discharge has got to go--and I guess that will be about everybody but you." "Then I might as well die," said Rosanna. "I can't go back and live the way I used to live. You know I can't do it, Minnie. I can't; I just _can't_! Oh, Minnie, it seems as though I had only been happy for three weeks in all my life, and what shall I do? I do love Helen, and she is just as nice as I am, and so are her mother and father. Oh, don't you suppose Uncle Robert can fix it?" "He didn't come home with her," said Minnie. "When he does the mischief will be done. It is just her sinful pride, if I do say it about your grandmother, and sure as sure there will come a day and that soon, when her pride will have a fall. I only wish I could run away with you, dearie. But you will have to be brave, and I will see you as soon as ever I can. You know my telephone number, and if she ever goes out you just call me up." "I don't feel brave," whispered Rosanna, hiding her face on Minnie's shoulder. "I don't see how I will ever bear to stay alone all night." "That you needn't if you would like your Minnie," said she. "Just you get into your bed and be quiet, and I will be back in a minute." She tucked Rosanna between the sheets, and hurried away as silent as a shadow. In a few minutes she returned, ready for the night. She drew a big couch close beside Rosanna's little bed and lay down. "There we are!" she said, taking Rosanna's hand. "Now look here, Rosanna. In the morning when your grandmother talks to you, don't try to talk back, and whatever you do, _don't be afraid_. Just let her talk, and tell her to see Mrs. Hargrave. She has seen me all she ever wants to, I guess, but Mrs. Hargrave is not afraid of anybody. I wish she was here. Now you will remember what I say, won't you, dear? Don't be afraid." "What will she do to Helen?" asked Rosanna. "Do to Helen?" said Minnie, sitting up. "Do to Helen? Well, she won't get within shouting distance of Helen. I guess I have not been shut up in my room all evening so as anyone would notice it. The Culvers are all prepared, and Helen won't know anything about it until long after it is all over." "That is good," sighed Rosanna. "I can't bear to have Helen unhappy as I am. It does seem as though I have to be unhappy such a lot, don't you think so, Minnie?" Minnie leaned over and kissed her. "Poor child!" she said softly. "Never you mind! I have a feeling that there is something good coming out of this. I don't know what, but you must bear whatever your grandmother says to you with that thought in mind, and remember what I say." "I will try," promised Rosanna, and then because she was exhausted with the shock of the evening after the tiresome but glorious day Rosanna, clasping Minnie's hand tight, went to sleep immediately. When she awoke next day it was very late, and the sun was shining through the flowered chintz curtains. She felt something queer and crackly in the bed by her foot, and threw back the covers. There was a letter tied to her ankle by a piece of ribbon. Rosanna could not help laughing, it was such a funny place to put a letter. "Dearie," it read, "we slept like tops both of us, and now I must get out of here before your grandmother wakes up. I am going to tie this to your ankle because that is the only place she would never think to look if she should come in while you are still asleep, and go to looking through things, though the saints know there is nothing she is not welcome to see as we have every button on, and not a rip anywhere. "I take this pencil in hand to tell you that I stayed all night and held your hand. At any rate you were holding mine when I woke up not long ago. "Now I am going to leave right off, as I do not care to eat again under this roof, things being as they are. I don't know about your going down to breakfast. If you wake late enough, she will be over at Mrs. Hargrave's and you could have your breakfast up here. Just ring the bell three times. I will fix it with Hannah to bring you a tray as soon as ever you call. "Don't forget what I told you last night about being afraid. There is nothing for you to be afraid of, and you can do for yourself now just as nicely as though you were a grown-up young lady. And don't forget that just as soon as your Minnie is married you can come to see me just as often as you please, and I don't think it will hurt you to come and see your own nursemaid in her own little house which is already being paid for in instalments, and you can cook candy in my kitchen which is to be blue and white in honor of the playhouse, and we will feel honored to have you, and no one to object whatever you do. "I must go now. Oh, dear, I'll worry every second: but don't you fret one mite, Rosanna dear, as there is nothing at all to worry about. "Your Minnie." Her kind, good Minnie! There was one who loved her anyway. And she knew Helen loved her. She determined to be brave. When she thought everything over, she could not feel that she had done anything wrong in the least. But when her grandmother talked to her, she always felt guilty of everything that her grandmother wanted her to feel guilty about. She dreaded seeing Mrs. Horton. There was a knock on the door and there was her breakfast, the best that cook could send up. Rosanna was very hungry, and there was nothing left but plates and cups and saucers when she finished and pressed the bell button. Hannah hurried up and took the tray. "We think you had better not say anything about this until you see what your grandmother is going to do," said Hannah and hurried off while Rosanna settled herself to wait. Presently the door opened. Mrs. Horton, more pale and angry than ever, came in. She was carrying a plate. There was a glass of water and a slice of bread on it. She set it down hard on the table. CHAPTER XV "There is your breakfast," said Mrs. Horton, looking at Rosanna with her steely eyes. "Bread and water will be part of your punishment." "I am not hungry," said Rosanna in a low tone. "Then you may leave it there until you are," said her grandmother. "Bread and water will be your fare until you have apologized to me and have proved that you regret your disgraceful conduct while I was away." "I don't think that I did anything that was disgraceful, grandmother," said Rosanna gently. "You will when I get through with you," said her grandmother grimly. "I hope I may be able to bring you to your senses. I am only sorry you are too big a girl to punish as I would like to punish you." "Have you seen Mrs. Hargrave?" asked Rosanna. "She is away. I suppose that is one reason that you went wild." "I did nothing without asking her if it would be all right," said Rosanna. "That seems impossible," said Mrs. Horton. "It is true," asserted Rosanna. "Rosanna, be careful what you say!" exclaimed her grandmother angrily. Remembering what Minnie had advised, Rosanna said nothing. Her grandmother continued, "I have thought this all over and you know as well as I do what you have done, and how you have offended me, and I see no use in talking about it at all. You will stay here on a diet of bread and water until you are in a different frame of mind. I don't need to have you tell me how you feel, or what you think. A look at your face is quite sufficient. You are stubborn and unrepentant. Perhaps after a week or two spent thinking, you will see things in a different light. You will not be allowed any privileges at all. You will not even have your lessons. When your Uncle Robert comes home, you will not see him unless you have repented enough to be allowed to come down to your meals. Do you understand?" Something queer and hard and grown-up came into Rosanna's soul. She looked her angry grandmother straight in the eye. "Grandmother," she said very gently, "I hope you will not say anything that you will be sorry for." "Don't be impertinent!" said Mrs. Horton. "I don't mean to be," said Rosanna. "You are!" said Mrs. Horton. Rosanna turned around. "Oh, grandmother!" she commenced, then stopped. "Oh, grandmother what?" asked Mrs. Horton. "Nothing. Excuse me," said Rosanna. "Then that's all," said Mrs. Horton. "You understand me?" "I think I do," said Rosanna. She did not look up, and Mrs. Horton, unable to catch her eye, left the room. Lunch time came, and with it her grandmother with a fresh glass of water and another slice of bread. Immediately after, Hannah appeared with a tray of luncheon. Rosanna was really not hungry, but she was wise enough to know that it was a very bad thing to go without eating, especially when one has decided on a very serious and terrifying step. The afternoon dragged away. At five her grandmother came in and offered her still another glass of water and slice of bread. Rosanna thanked her. "Have you anything to say to me?" asked Mrs. Horton. "No, grandmother," replied Rosanna, "only that I am very sorry that you are angry with me, and I hope some day you will be sorry too that you did not love me when I was here to love." "Do you think of leaving?" said Mrs. Horton sneeringly. "You had better tell me where you are going so I can send your clothes. I believe that is the way they do with the sort of people you have been making friends with." Rosanna did not reply: "Let me catch you leaving this room!" said Mrs. Horton. She went out and closed the door. Rosanna nodded her head. Her mind was made up. She crossed to the dainty dresser, and switching on the lights did something she had never done in her life. Rosanna was not vain in the least, but if you could have seen her then, turning this way and that, lifting her long, heavy curls, wadding them on top of her head, or trying them in a long braid, you would have said that she seemed to be a very vain little girl indeed. She appeared satisfied at last with what she saw in the glass, and noticed that it was growing quite dark. She went over to her little bed, and knelt. "Please, dear Lord," she whispered, "I don't want to do anything wrong. Please help me because I am so afraid. And now that Minnie is gone and Helen, please give me somebody to love me. Amen." She felt better after that, and sat down by the window. It was almost dark.... When Mrs. Horton left Rosanna, she went down to the big, dim library and, seating herself at her desk, commenced to write letters. She found it difficult to collect her thoughts and there was a bad feeling in her heart, as though she was wrong, as though she was doing something unwise, unkind, and perhaps really wicked. But she thrust it out of her thoughts because she didn't think that she ever _could_ do anything really wrong. Something pressed hard on her heart, and she grew very restless. Some impulse led her to go to the telephone and call Mrs. Hargrave on the long distance line. Mrs. Hargrave, who was very much bored by Cousin Hendy, was delighted to hear her old friend's voice. She did not let Mrs. Horton get a word in edgewise for the first two minutes. She seemed to think Mrs. Horton didn't care how much that telephone call was going to cost. She asked how she was, and how Robert was, and had he found his lost friend, and she certainly hoped he had, and when had they returned, and oh, wasn't it too bad Robert had been unable to come with his mother? Then like a person who saves the best to the last, she asked with a note of triumph in her voice: "Well, how do you think your darling Rosanna looks? I suppose you know she has gained five pounds while you were away. I think she is vastly improved. And so happy! My dear, of course, it is hard for us to realize it, but I think once in awhile it is a good thing to get right out and let the home people do for themselves and learn to depend on themselves a little. Don't you?" Mrs. Horton smiled grimly. "It has certainly not worked out here to any great advantage, during my absence," she said. "What?" asked Mrs. Hargrave. "I don't believe I hear you." Mrs. Horton spoke into the telephone with careful distinctness. "If you do not know what has happened during my absence," she said, "I will tell you the state of affairs existing here in my home now, and you may be able to guess that something serious has occurred. In the first place Rosanna is in her room on a diet of bread and water. My chauffeur, with his pushing wife and ordinary child, has been discharged, and told to vacate to-morrow. Rosanna's maid, Minnie, had been discharged and is gone. All the servants have had severe scoldings." There was a long silence, then Mrs. Hargrave said, "Are you crazy?" "Not at all!" said Mrs. Horton. "I will be home to-morrow morning," said Mrs. Hargrave. "I'll have to get there as soon as I can to keep you from making more of your dreadful mistakes. In the meantime, I am ashamed of you. Don't you go near Rosanna with your cutting speeches until I see you. Oh, I can't talk to you! Good-night!" She rang off and Mrs. Horton slowly replaced the receiver. No, she did not intend to go near Rosanna. Rosanna was settled for the night so far as she was concerned. On her way up to bed, she opened the door of Rosanna's room, and listened. The child was sleeping so calmly that her grandmother could not even hear her breathe. She could see the little mound that Rosanna's body made on the bed, but she did not go into the room. She went on to her own room and sat down to think. The light was dim; just one small night light burning, and Mrs. Horton sat down in her favorite lounging chair and gave herself up to her unhappy thoughts. She was conscious of a feeling of wrongdoing yet she did not recognize it as such. Instead, she was sure that she had been very deeply wronged. After all her teaching, after all the years she had spent guarding Rosanna, on the first chance the child had slipped away from all she had been told. She shuddered when she thought of it, remembering her own young sister and her unhappy fate. She did not realize that she was judging all humanity by the commonplace young scamp her sister had unfortunately married. It did not occur to her to ask herself if all the fine young men and women her son knew were also of that type. The next thing she knew, the cold woke her. It was dawn, and she had slept in her chair all night. She was chilled to the bone. She slowly undressed, and feeling sore and stiff, took a hot bath and wrapped up in a warm kimono. She was about to lie down and finish the night when she thought of Rosanna. Mrs. Horton stepped into a pair of slippers and crossed the room. As she passed her desk, she looked up full at the picture of her dead son and his wife, Rosanna's father and mother. She stopped. Somehow those faces would not let her pass. They held her with sad, questioning eyes. "What are you doing with our little child?" they seemed to say. "Have you loved her, mother? Have you been tender with her? Have you tried to understand her? Have you remembered that she is just a baby?" Mrs. Horton thought of Rosanna in her beautiful, lonely room way down the corridor. She commenced to have a very guilty feeling. "Have you loved her?" asked the two sad faces. "Have you been tender with her, mother?" "I have done my duty by the child," answered Mrs. Horton. She went down the corridor to Rosanna's room, her head held high. The cold, pallid light of the hour just before day filled the house. Mrs. Horton opened Rosanna's door and went in. She looked long at the little bed as though she could not believe her eyes. Then crossing, she opened the bathroom door, and then the clothespress, calling Rosanna's name sharply. There was no reply. The little dog followed her into the room and went sniffing and whining about. Mrs. Horton rushed back to the bed and saw that the little mound she had thought in the dark the night before was Rosanna was only a neat pile of little dresses. Rosanna was gone! Mrs. Horton remembered that the child was very fond of a wide seat in the library. She hurried down the broad stairs, expecting to find that the lonely child had crept down there to sit awhile and, like herself, had dropped to sleep, but the big room was empty. Mrs. Horton's heart commenced to hammer in a very strange way. Of course Rosanna must be in the house somewhere, and although she felt it was a very undignified thing to do, she went from room to room making a close and careful search of every nook where a child could hide. There was not a single sign of the little girl. Mrs. Horton had hoped to find Rosanna without calling the servants, but as she looked and looked, and the knowledge came to her that perhaps Rosanna was not in the house at all, she was filled with terror. She commenced to press the electric buttons frantically and, wide-eyed and half dressed, the household commenced to gather from the servants' wing. She managed somehow to let them know that Rosanna had disappeared, and everyone commenced a search that stretched to the playhouse, the pony stable and the garden. She staggered up to her room and with shaking hands commenced to dress herself. The two sad faces on the wall stared at her. "Oh, mother, mother, where is our baby?" they asked. "Gone--gone--" said Mrs. Horton. CHAPTER XVI Rosanna was gone. When or where or how no one could tell. By eight o'clock on that dreadful morning the neighborhood had been scoured, the alleys searched and the police were talking darkly of kidnapers and of dragging the river. Mrs. Horton knew that no one could have entered the house, but she was at a loss to see how Rosanna could have been taken out or have gone out without being seen, even if she had not gone before dark. The neighborhood was full of children, and no one, young or old, had seen Rosanna, who was well known by sight by everyone on the block. At quarter past eight, to Mrs. Horton's surprise, Mrs. Hargrave walked in. It was evident by her distressed look and trembling hands that she had learned what had happened. "Well, Virginia, you have done it this time!" she said. "I have been telling you for the last forty years that your unholy pride would get you into trouble, and it has. If anything happens to hurt Rosanna--well, I just won't tell you what I think; I reckon you know without my saying it. Now begin at the beginning and tell me in as few words as possible just what you did to her. I don't want to know now what you thought _she_ had done or what you thought about it yourself. I want to know _what you did to Rosanna_." Mrs. Hargrave seated herself on the edge of a chair as though she might fly off at any moment. She listened intently while Mrs. Horton, still thinking of the accusing eyes in the two pictures, told how she had punished Rosanna. When she had finished, Mrs. Hargrave spoke. "I don't see how you will ever forgive yourself." "I couldn't bear to have her grow up rough and coarse like so many of these modern children. I wanted to keep her away from all lowering influences." "Fiddle-dee-_dee_!" said Mrs. Hargrave, beating a tiny hand on the arm of her chair. "Fiddle-dee-dee and fiddle_sticks_ with your 'lowering influences'! What did you do but leave her to her own thoughts and no one to talk to but a stiff old woman and a houseful of servants? Well, you have done it! What are you doing to find her?" "I have put it in the hands of the police, and they have an extra shift of detectives searching the city." Mrs. Horton trembled so she could scarcely speak. "Detectives, yes!" said Mrs. Hargrave. "Walking around the alley, two and two, looking for all the little girls with long, black curls. That's about all _that_ will do for you. Have you called Minnie?" "I don't know where she lives," parried Mrs. Horton. "Well, I _do_!" said Mrs. Hargrave. She hurried to the telephone, and after a moment returned. "She will be right over," she said. "That does not seem necessary," said Mrs. Horton. She dreaded to see Minnie. "It does to me," said Mrs. Hargrave. She softened a little. "Now, my dear," she said, "you are not able to carry this thing through alone. A frightful thing has happened, and it is likely that we may never see our little Rosanna again." She choked back the tears. "Have you spoken to Mr. Culver?" "Who is he?" asked Mrs. Horton. "The name sounds familiar." "It ought to!" said Mrs. Hargrave. "A splendid fellow--your chauffeur." "I thought his name was Carver," said Mrs. Horton. "You all write so badly. No, I have not seen him; he is the cause, or part of the cause of this dreadful affair." "Not so much as I am if you are going to look at it like that," said Mrs. Hargrave. "Next to Rosanna, his daughter is the nicest little girl I ever saw. I am going to do something for her some day, and I will thank you, my dear, not to abuse her. Now I want you to send for John. _I_ want to see him if you don't." "I think the police captain saw him," said Mrs. Horton. "Shall I ring that bell or will you?" demanded her friend. Mrs. Horton rose. "Send for the chauffeur," she ordered the house boy. "I think they's gone, ma'am," he said. "Well, you run as fast as ever you can and tell them not to go," said Mrs. Hargrave. "Mrs. Horton wants to see both Mr. and Mrs. Culver." The house boy bolted. The Culvers came gravely in. Both looked pale and distressed. Mrs. Horton studied Mrs. Culver with surprise. Well dressed, beautiful and refined, she was not the woman Mrs. Horton had expected to see. Mrs. Hargrave took charge. "Good-morning, my dears," she said. "There is just one thing for us all to do now, and that is to put aside all personal feelings, just as you would want your friends to do if something dreadful had happened to our dear Helen, and all work together to see if we cannot save our little Rosanna from whatever fate has overtaken her. I wondered if you have ever heard her say anything that would lead you to think that if she did leave this house of her own accord, she would go to any one person?" "Only Minnie," said Mrs. Culver in a voice as cultivated and low as Mrs. Hargrave's own. "I have sent for Minnie," said Mrs. Hargrave. "I talked to her over the telephone and she knows nothing at all about Rosanna, but she is coming over at once. I want you to tell us, Mrs. Culver, if you ever heard Rosanna say anything that would lead you to think that she would run away." Mrs. Culver hesitated, then with a flush said: "I think it is only my duty to say that Rosanna was the loneliest child I have ever seen. If she is found, I hope that something can be done to place her among people who will give her not only care, but love." "How dare you say that I did not love her?" cried Mrs. Horton. "I say it because I love Rosanna," said Mrs. Culver, "and I cannot help thinking that if my child should be left motherless, I would rather wish her dead than brought up as you are trying to bring her up, Mrs. Horton. "Oh, why, _why_ did you not let her have her friends? If you object to us because we are simple people and poor, why did you not see to it that she had friends in her 'own set' as you call it? And as for the friendship between my child and Rosanna, we had your own letter for our permission." "We certainly did," said Mrs. Hargrave. "I cannot talk about this now," said Mrs. Horton. "Please leave me." "Don't you go a step farther than your own house, John," said Mrs. Hargrave briskly. "I am going to give orders for awhile. Mrs. Horton, as you see, is overcome. We need you. Take one of the cars and ride about and see what you can see, John, and you, my dear, stand ready to do anything that you can, like the fine girl that you are." She smiled and the two left the room, tears streaming down the face of Mrs. Culver. As they went slowly through the garden, Minnie burst through the gate, and rushed toward the house. She did not even see them. She hurried to the library, and hesitating for a second to pull herself together, knocked on the door and entered as Mrs. Horton called, "Come!" Minnie bowed, and Mrs. Hargrave at once said: "Minnie, can you imagine where Rosanna would go if she left home, when she was as unhappy as she was last night?" "Only to my house," said Minnie. "If anybody abused her as I will say they _did_, yet mentioning no names, and if anybody made a prisoner of her, and spent most of their time year in and out making her unhappy, and with you away, Mrs. Hargrave, I know if my darling Miss Rosanna was let to go anywhere of her own free will, she would come to her Minnie who loves her. That child needed to be cuddled and loved, Mrs. Hargrave, ma'am, and I was the only person about here who ever held her on a lap, and I know she would start for me. But you'll not find her for one long while. How she got out of the house I don't know. But why she went I can pretty well guess, and what if a gang of robbers should meet Miss Rosanna going along all alone and her so beautiful with her long curls and pretty dresses? What would they do but pick her up right off, and carry her away and hold her for some people who didn't appreciate her when they had her, to pay them a fortune to get her back?" Here Minnie commenced to cry. "Don't do that!" said Mrs. Horton sharply. "I can't stand it!" Minnie turned to her. "Mrs. Horton, now that the dear child is stolen and by this time probably murdered and buried, and no one the wiser, I think it is only right to tell you that it is all your fault. While I was working here and felt that I could do for Miss Rosanna, I was careful to say nothing at all, and it can never be laid to me that I said one word against you to your granddaughter. No, ma'am, Mrs. Horton, I was true to the wages I earned. I never said one word even to my young man about the way you froze all the happiness out of that dear departed child. And what I could do I did. I tucked her in at night and always kissed her, and when I found out how she wanted to be held tight, I held her and told her fairy stories. And I found out all I could about her father and mother from the other servants, and from cook who has been here for forty years or so, and I told her all the funny things her father did when he was a little boy, and she said it made her feel real acquainted with 'em. "And she heard or read about putting candles and flowers in front of the statues and paintings of the saints, and she wanted to do it with her mother and father, but she knew she would be told not, so she used to put little bunches of flowers back of the pictures between them and the wall, and mercy knows if they have stained the wall paper. And when they was faded I used to take them out, and oh dear, she was so sweet!" Minnie choked, Mrs. Hargrave cried quite openly, and Mrs. Horton, deadly pale and dry-eyed, sat shaking like a leaf, her eyes fixed on the painting of her son on the opposite wall. "And I think it was a _shame_ and a SIN and a CRIME," said Minnie hotly, "that nobody but me did these things for her, Mrs. Hargrave, ma'am! "And now she's gone, and I'll say she's somewhere dead of a broken heart just because she wasn't let to have a single friend and that Helen, the nicest child I ever did see except Miss Rosanna, and what if she _was_ poor? And I don't know what good blood is if it don't show in nice manners and pretty speech and pleasant thoughts and Helen Culver had nothing else. "Oh, I just feel we will never see Miss Rosanna again, and what did she wear off?" "I don't know," said Mrs. Horton, speaking for the first time. "You better find out!" said Minnie tartly. "The detectives know," said Mrs. Horton. "Oh, Mrs. Horton I sound hard on you, but it's all true, and I can't take it back, and I'm not working here or I wouldn't have said it: but I wish there was something I could do. What _can_ I do? I'd like to pick up her room if I might, please." "The detectives do not want it touched," said Mrs. Horton. "There is nothing you can do." Minnie, wiping her eyes, vanished in the direction of the kitchen to see the cook, and Mrs. Horton turned to Mrs. Hargrave. "Does it seem to you that these people have any right to attack me like this?" she asked with dry lips. "I was not hard with Rosanna. I loaded her with toys and pleasures, and I think they are all very hard on me." "What do you think about yourself?" asked Mrs. Hargrave gently. "Did you ever hold her and laugh with her, and tell her stories?" "No; it was not my way," said Mrs. Horton. "But it was the way of a child," said Mrs. Hargrave. "The way of a tender little motherless child! I do not want to be hard on you, but I have told you for forty years that your pride would be your undoing." "The telephone!" said Mrs. Horton. She rushed to the instrument and talked for a little with a member of the police force, then she came dragging back to the library. "They have finished searching the hospitals, and nowhere is there a child answering to the description of Rosanna. I was actually hoping to find her in one of the hospitals." Suddenly she buried her proud head in her hands and broke into hard sobs. Mrs. Hargrave went over and put an arm around the bowed shoulders. Presently Mrs. Horton said: "If we only get her back! I never meant to be hard, but I did try so hard to bring her up so she would never have to live and die as unhappily as my little sister, and I felt that if she could be made unbending and proud she would never choose unworthy friends." "But you were wrong, my dear," said Mrs. Hargrave. "Don't you see it now? There is nothing to be gained in this life by remaining narrow. We must know life and our fellowmen in order to be able to choose wisely and well. How can we tell the worthy from the unworthy unless we have known enough of people to be able to recognize both the good and bad? Oh, Virginia! I feel that Rosanna will come back to you, to us, and we must remember that we are old women, and she is a child, and like calls to like. We must remember that God expects us to love and guide her but she must have friends and outside interests." "Oh, if she only, only comes back!" cried Mrs. Horton. CHAPTER XVII The dreadful day dragged to a close, while the detectives and the entire police force scoured the city and the surrounding country. For the one day they had succeeded in keeping the disappearance out of the papers, hoping that if Rosanna was actually in the hands of kidnapers they would not be frightened into taking her away or harming her to insure their own safety. Mrs. Hargrave went restlessly back and forth between her own house and Mrs. Horton's, while Mrs. Horton walked endlessly up and down near the telephone, listening and praying for news and imagining horrible things. Throwing her pride to the winds, Minnie settled herself at Mrs. Horton's, determined to be on hand if her darling Miss Rosanna needed her. Minnie, for all her dismal predictions, did not give up hope but the thought of what might be happening to Rosanna almost drove her wild. She could not keep out of Rosanna's room, yet she could not bear to touch a thing that the delicate little hands had handled. She wouldn't dust. Rosanna's brush and comb lay on the dresser, and Minnie looked at them tenderly, thinking of the long curls and wondering where and how that lovely head was resting. Mr. Culver went down town to a friend of his and borrowed a small car. In this he scoured the city, and penetrated the most disreputable portions with carefully worded questions concerning a child that had strayed away. At lunch time Helen asked him if he would take her over to see Mary and Gwenny. Helen had been spending her money for Gwenny, and wanted to get her purchases where she could not see them and have them remind her of Rosanna. Poor Helen had cried herself almost sick. With all her broken, loving little heart she had prayed that she might be of some help in finding Rosanna, for she too was sure that she would be restored. Mr. Culver was glad to take Helen over to Gwenny's, so Helen did the things up in a neat parcel and they started. "Don't you suppose if everyone knew that Rosanna was lost that they would all help to look for her?" asked Helen. "It will all come out in to-morrow morning's paper," answered Mr. Culver. "They were afraid of scaring the people who are holding her, if someone is holding her. The police hoped to find her before the kidnapers were scared into carrying her a long ways off, or hiding her perhaps in some of the caves around here. You see, Helen, with a family as rich as the Hortons are, a child is sometimes held for what they call ransom; that is, an immense sum of money which the parents are glad to pay rather than have the child killed." Mary and Gwenny were greatly shocked at the news, and wanted to hear all about it over and over. Mr. Culver went on an errand and Helen waited there with the two girls. "Are they sure she wasn't hurt when she was trying to go somewhere?" asked Mary. "Mary saw a little girl run over by an automobile last night," said Gwenny. "She wasn't really run over," corrected Mary, "but pretty near." "You don't think it was Rosanna?" cried Helen eagerly. "Oh, no, it wasn't Rosanna," said Mary. "Rosanna never had on a dress like that; it was just the kind of a dress I would wear and, besides, her hair was cut short. And she wasn't pretty like Rosanna." "Did you see her close up?" asked Helen curiously. "Not very," confessed Mary. "She was all covered with dust where the automobile had rolled her into the gutter, and her head was cut, and she was unconscious: but she didn't look like Rosanna any more than I do. I was just wondering if they had been to the hospitals." "Yes, they went through them all," said Helen. "There were lots of children that had been hurt one way and another, and there was one little girl who had been hurt on the head, and couldn't tell who she was, but she was not Rosanna. The detectives took a picture of Rosanna along so they could be sure." "That must have been the little girl I saw hurt," said Mary. "It was right on Third Street, and they took her down to the Morton Memorial Hospital right away. But it wasn't Rosanna." "No, of course not," sighed Helen. "Of course not!" echoed Mary. "I wish it _was_ Rosanna," said Helen with a sob. "I wish it was!" Leaving these thoughts to worry Mary and Gwenny, Helen went off with her father, and in the course of time reached home. There was a message from Mrs. Horton asking Helen to come to her as soon as she could. "I wish you would go with me," said Helen wistfully to her mother. "I do not think I had better," said Mrs. Culver. "She asked particularly for you. Don't get excited whatever is said. I trust you to act as though I was at your side. You know, darling, that I always trust you." Helen burst into tears. "Oh, mother, dear, dear mother, think of poor, poor Rosanna who has no mother at all to go to for advice!" Mrs. Culver hugged her little girl tight, wondering if little Rosanna had perhaps gone to the young mother she had lost so long ago. When Helen entered the library, she found that old Mrs. Horton had collapsed, and was lying on the sofa covered with a blanket. There was a chill in the large, dark room. Mrs. Hargrave, very sober and haggard looking, drew Helen to her and kissed her. Then to Helen's amazement Mrs. Horton kissed her too. "My dear little girl," she said feebly, "I want to tell you that I find I have made a great mistake, and I am sorry for everything. When Rosanna comes back, I want you two little girls to be the best of friends. And I want you to ask your father to stay with me. Perhaps he will do it if you ask him. Mrs. Hargrave says that he is working on an invention of some sort. He will certainly have as much spare time to give to his studies here as he could in any business I know of. I want you to tell him all this from me." "Thank you so much," said Helen in her soft little voice. Then there being nothing that she could think of to say, she stood waiting for Mrs. Horton to speak. But Mrs. Horton wearily turned her gray face to the wall and sighed. "Would you mind if I go up and speak to Minnie?" Helen asked timidly. "Not at all," answered Mrs. Horton. "It comforts me to know that there is a child in the house. I think you will find Minnie in Rosanna's room. You know the way." Again she turned to the wall as though she had parted with hope, and Helen ran quietly up the broad stairs and down the corridor to Rosanna's room. Minnie was there sitting in her little sewing chair, mending a dress of Rosanna's. Her tears fell on it as she worked. "Don't do that, Minnie!" she said, throwing her arm around her. "I know we will find Rosanna, and then everything will come out right." She sat down on Minnie's lap, and told her everything that her father had said, and all that Mrs. Horton had said, and then all about her visit with Mary and Gwenny. "As far as I go," said Minnie crossly, "the sooner they get all this in the paper the better I will like it. Why, if there is one thing on earth more than another that will stir folks up it is a lost child. All the people, and the Boy Scouts and everybody will be hunting around everywhere." "And where do the Girl Scouts come in?" asked Helen hotly. "They will do just as good work as the Boy Scouts will." She got up and commenced to walk around the room. Minnie, having finished her sewing, arose too and after a moment's thought produced from somewhere a silk duster, and began wiping off the chairs and other furniture. Helen watched her idly as she moved about the room, then the two large portraits caught her attention. "Wasn't Rosanna's mother beautiful?" she said, staring. "Her eyes seem to look right at you as if she was trying to tell you something." "I don't doubt she is, the dear saint!" said Minnie. "You can't begin to know what a heap Rosanna thinks of those pictures. She used to want to keep flowers in front of each one the way they do in churches in front of the saints; but she didn't dare because she knew her grandmother wouldn't let her. So she used to pick posies and tie little bunches and slip them down behind the picture next the wall. She asked me if I didn't think it would mean just as much. And I know it did, the lamb, the dear, dear lamb! I told her grandmother about it too, every word. "Why, the day you went to Fontaine Ferry--gracious, it seems a year ago!--she fixed a little bit of a wreath of sweet peas and tucked it behind the picture. It must be there yet all withered." Minnie went over to the picture, and taking the heavy frame in both hands held the picture away from the wall a little. Something fell to the floor, but it was not the withered flowers. When Minnie looked down, she stared and stared and, still staring, crumpled down on her knees, wild, round eyes on the object. Helen ran to her. "Oh, oh, oh," moaned Minnie, "have I gone mad?" On the floor tied by a ribbon, was Rosanna's beautiful hair! For a space Minnie and Helen stood as though they had been frozen. Minnie touched the long, soft locks and again moaned but all at once Helen commenced to dance up and down. "Now we have her, now we have her!" she cried. "Come down and tell Mrs. Horton, Minnie! We have found Rosanna! Come, come!" She tried to drag Minnie to the door, but Minnie pulled back. "What do you mean?" she demanded. "Why, don't you see?" cried Helen. "She cut it off because she didn't want anybody to know who she was, and everyone always looked at her lovely hair. She gave it to her mother. Oh, _don't_ you see, Minnie? And then she started for your house, and the automobile hit her, and I just _know_ that is our Rosanna in the hospital! Of course Mary was sure it was not Rosanna on account of her hair. Oh, come, let's tell her grandmother. She does truly and truly love Rosanna, Minnie. Come, let's tell her!" "Yes, and then find out that it isn't Rosanna at all and break her heart for sure," said the practical Minnie. "You go down and tell Mrs. Hargrave will she please come up here a minute, and you see that she comes. She will know what's best to do." Minnie bent over the long locks so carefully brushed and tied, and again her tears flowed while Helen sped down the stairs on her errand. Mrs. Hargrave, who had plenty of common sense, followed at once, and her shock and surprise when she saw the curls of dark hair equalled theirs. "Minnie is quite right," she said, nodding her head. "Mrs. Horton is in a very bad condition. I feel as though the little girl in the hospital may be Rosanna, but if we should find ourselves mistaken I don't know what the effect on Mrs. Horton would be. Say good-by to Mrs. Horton, Helen, and go tell your mother what we have found. Then ask your father to bring you around to my house in the car. You, Minnie, slip out the back door and meet me outside. Don't say one word until we see who this child is. I don't see why they have not reported her if it is Rosanna. She must have been asked to tell her name, and Rosanna is not grown up enough to think of making up a name for the occasion. Besides she would be glad to come home. If it is Rosanna--let me hurry!" One by one they carefully left the house. It was late, and Mrs. Horton seemed to be dozing. Telling the cook to put off getting dinner until Mrs. Horton had rested, Minnie slipped out, and reached Mrs. Hargrave's house just as the car drove up. Mrs. Hargrave came briskly trotting along the walk a moment later and was helped in. "It is a good thing that I am a trustee and director over at that hospital," she remarked, "so they won't try to fuss about our seeing the child, whoever she is. If it is only Rosanna--" It was a swift ride. Every heart was beating quickly. If it was only Rosanna! Entering the hospital, Mrs. Hargrave went to the superintendent's office, where a firm, stern looking woman met them. "A child was hurt by an automobile last night and brought here," she said briefly. Mrs. Hargrave interrupted her. "I want to see her," she said. "It is not the Horton child, if that is what you mean," said the superintendent. "This was a short-haired child in a very ordinary dress. She was struck on the head and was unconscious for hours. We are surprised that no inquiry has been made." "I am making one now," said Mrs. Hargrave crisply. "I said I wanted to _see_ this child." "You know it is against the rules, Mrs. Hargrave," the superintendent objected. "Fiddle-dee-dee!" said Mrs. Hargrave. "What ward is she in?" The superintendent gave up. She had known that she would. Mrs. Hargrave always had her own way. She led them down to the elevator, where they waited and waited with what patience they could gather until the car came slowly down and took them up to the general wards. They tiptoed in. The little girl was bandaged and pale and sleeping heavily; but oh, joy of joys, it _was_ Rosanna! CHAPTER XVIII "And it was just like a fairy story," said Helen, telling her mother about it afterwards, "because even while the nurse was telling how the little girl had not spoken a word, or even looked at anybody, Rosanna just opened those big eyes of hers, and said, 'Hello, Helen!' And I simply didn't know what to say, so I just said 'Hello,' too." It was indeed Rosanna, and Rosanna was herself again, aside from a very badly bumped head that had come near being a very seriously hurt head. She was too weak and ill to seem to wonder why she was in a hospital room with a couple of trained nurses feeling of her pulse, and dear Mrs. Hargrave with the tears rolling down her faintly pink old cheeks. All Mrs. Hargrave said was, "We will be back in a minute, Rosanna," and shooed everybody out into the hall, even the stern superintendent. "Now then," said Mrs. Hargrave with one peek back to see that the nurse that had stayed was doing her full duty, "now the thing is, how are we going to get her home?" "Oh, she can't go home," said the superintendent in a shocked voice. "She ought to stay here for three or four days anyway." "Fiddle-dee-_dee_!" said Mrs. Hargrave. "Home is the place for her, and besides I have reasons for wanting her to be under the care of her grandmother right away." "I can't take the responsibility," said the superintendent stubbornly. "You will have to see the house doctor, Mrs. Hargrave." "Very well," said Mrs. Hargrave. She turned to a nurse passing. "Go get Doctor Smith, my dear; tell him Mrs. Hargrave wants him at once." Doctor Smith came sooner than the superintendent hoped he would. "Well," he said, "if it is possible to get her home without jarring her, I think it would be a good thing. Her head is not injured, but her nerves are shaken, and if she can be at home in her own room she will regain her strength very quickly. I want you to take a trained nurse with you, however." "Of course!" said Mrs. Hargrave briskly, "Now how shall we take her? In an ambulance, or can we manage in the car? It is very large." "Could one of you hold her?" said the doctor. "I can and will," said Minnie decidedly. "I know just how she likes to be held, the lamb!" "Then she can go now if you like," said the doctor, and the superintendent pursed up her mouth and stalked downstairs, scorning the elevator. How smoothly Mr. Culver drove that car! Not a jounce or bump disturbed the pale little patient, and he "drove the car at a walk" as Mrs. Hargrave had asked him. When they reached home, Mrs. Hargrave asked Rosanna if she could be comfortable there for a couple of minutes, and seeing her nod feebly, she went briskly into the house. She looked into the library. Mrs. Horton, exhausted by her regrets and sorrow, had fallen into a heavy sleep. Quickly Mrs. Hargrave went back and beckoned. Mr. Culver gathered Rosanna up in his arms, and with Minnie leading the way, carried her to her pretty room. She gave a sigh of happiness when she felt herself tucked into her own soft, pleasant bed, and a tear squeezed itself from under her closed lids, but it was a tear of joy. Mrs. Hargrave returned to the library and sat down. It was a half hour before Mrs. Horton awoke. "No news?" she asked with a groan. "The best in the world!" said Mrs. Hargrave, patting her friend's hand. "The best in the world, Virginia, and you must take it bravely." "Tell me quickly," begged Mrs. Horton. "They have found her? Where is my child?" "Yes, we have found her," said Mrs. Hargrave, "and she is in her own little bed upstairs." "Oh, oh!" cried Mrs. Horton, covering her eyes. "She was nearly run over on Third Street, and has a pretty bad bump and a cut on her head. We found her in the hospital. No one knew who she was because she had cut off her curls, and she had on a dress I never saw before. Helen thinks it is one she bought to give that Mary child I told you about. Now don't mind her hair, Virginia; it will grow, and _do_ be gentle with her." "Mind her hair--be gentle with her!" repeated Mrs. Horton indignantly. "I will tell you what I am going to do from this time on, and just you try to interfere if you dare! I am going to _spoil_ Rosanna. I thought I was doing the right thing, and you don't know how I wanted to pet her and love her and play with her, but I was such a goose that I thought if I didn't keep her at a distance she wouldn't respect me. Why, she cares a thousand times more for you than she does for me this very minute! So you just watch me. I am going to make her love me best! I am going to begin now." She rose and started for the door. "Don't you want to fix your hair first?" asked Mrs. Hargrave in amazement. "It is all tousled up, and your nose is red and shiny." "It can stay so!" said the elegant Mrs. Horton. "I don't mind at all letting her see that I was breaking my heart for her. Perhaps it will help her to believe that I have one." Followed by Mrs. Hargrave, Mrs. Horton mounted the stairs as lightly as a girl. Minnie was just coming down. "Miss Rosanna keeps asking for you, Mrs. Horton," she said, "and the nurse thought if you would mind coming in to see her she would drop off to sleep." "I _am_ coming!" said Mrs. Horton. She entered the room, and Mrs. Hargrave again felt a keen pride in her friend. She approached the bed and, smiling down brightly, bent and kissed the little girl softly on the cheek. "Well, darling," she said, "how are you feeling now?" Rosanna lifted her arms. "Oh, grandmother, I am so sorry I ran away and made you so unhappy! I can see it in your face. Please forgive me! I will be such a good little girl when I get well!" "You have always been a good little girl, my precious," said her grandmother, kneeling by the bed and laying her arm over Rosanna. "Only we didn't just understand each other, and now everything is going to be different. I want you to go to sleep now, and we can talk about everything when you are well again. And you must sleep all you can, because the very first meal you can sit up for, Helen is coming over to have with you. A party, you know, right up here. And Helen is very lonesome. Now go to sleep. Minnie, your good Minnie, will stay right with you, and I will come back soon." Once more she kissed Rosanna and silently left the room. Outside the door she turned to Mrs. Hargrave and for a moment cried soft and happy tears on her shoulder. Then the two old ladies kissed each other tenderly. "It is going to be all right, Amanda," said Mrs. Horton. "Indeed it is, Virginia," said Mrs. Hargrave. "I am more thankful than I can say. And now I wonder when we are going to have anything to eat. I am not sure when I had a meal last. Down at Cousin Hendy's, I believe, and as she was just coming out of one of her attacks, that was mostly prepared breakfast foods. I don't mind saying that I am starved. Do you suppose you will have enough to eat here to-night to be any inducement for me to accept your invitation for dinner when I get it?" Half an hour later just as they sat down to the table, in walked Mrs. Horton's son Robert. Mrs. Hargrave shook her head when after the first greetings he asked for Rosanna. "In bed," said Mrs. Horton. "I will have something to tell you about her later, Robert, but now tell us what has happened since I left you." "The kiddie isn't in disgrace for anything, is she?" insisted Robert. "Not at all!" said Mrs. Hargrave. "Did you find your friend?" "I certainly did!" said the young man, smiling, "and it's a good thing too. He was hurt worse than I was, and it is going to be a long time before he will be able to do much of anything. He has a wife and a child or two, so I thought the best thing to do was to get them all down on the stock farm. That's what kept me. I went down to Lexington with them instead of coming straight home. He took one of the kiddies with him, and the others will follow. That is a great little girl of his, mother. She told me some of the greatest yarns about what she did in an organization called the Girl Scouts. It certainly is interesting and a wonderful thing for girls. Teaches them all sorts of things, you know. Why, that child was more self-reliant than lots of the grown girls I know. You must be sure to have Rosanna join it, mother. She needs it, I feel sure. I scarcely know Rosanna, but her letters always had about as much originality as a sheet of blank paper." "I don't think that was Rosanna's fault," said Mrs. Horton. "I think you will find her changed greatly." "Well, however that may be, you let her join the Girl Scouts anyway. Why, the fun they get out of it is worth everything. And in summer they camp and put up jams and things, at least the group this youngster belonged to did, and she is certainly great. Such a polite little thing." "Rosanna can invite her up here to see her," said Mrs. Horton. "I guess you would think she was not in Rosanna's class," he said, staring at his mother. "Class?" said Mrs. Horton. "Class has nearly wrecked my life twice; now we are going to pay some attention to worth and brains." They were sitting in the library a little later, when John Culver entered. He did not see Robert lounging on a divan in a dim corner of the big room as he said, "Mrs. Horton, this check that you have given me to date is made out to John Carver and of course I could not cash it." "Isn't that the way you spell your name?" asked Mrs. Horton. "Culver: John Winston Culver," said Culver. "J. W. Culver will do, of course." "John Winston Culver!" cried Robert, leaping from the divan in a manner you wouldn't expect from a wounded soldier. "Not Culver, the inventor?" "A little that way," laughed Culver, "but scarcely enough to be called _the_ inventor. I wish I was!" Robert was shaking him by the hand. "Well, you are all right!" he said. "Why, our people in the foundry have been looking for you all over the East. What are you doing here?" "It is too long a story to tell you now," said Mr. Culver, "but I will be more than glad to get in touch with the office if there is anything in it." "There is a fortune in it," said Robert, "just as soon as you get the machine perfected! We must have it, and we will give you fine terms for a right to its exclusive use. What are you doing here?" "I am your mother's chauffeur," said Mr. Culver. "I wanted something to do that would give me a good deal of leisure to work on the engine and after I came back from France we were visiting my wife's people here and I saw your mother's advertisement and took the place." "It is almost too good to be true!" said Robert. "If you agree, we'll work the thing out together." Mr. Culver looked at Mrs. Horton, then at Mrs. Hargrave. "Stay; please stay!" was the message he read in both pairs of eyes. "That will be fine," he said to Robert. "I need some help, and you are just the one to put me in the way of getting it. See you to-morrow," he added and went out, forgetting the check. "Well, I believe in fairies now," said Robert. "Half a dozen of the biggest concerns in the country are after that young man. If I dared, I would lock him up for safe keeping. To think that he is here right on the place! Talk of luck! Why, he is worth a million dollars to us right now, with his improved engine." "Luck; luck!" said Mrs. Hargrave. "Pretty poor luck, I call it for me!" "Why?" asked Mrs. Horton. "Oh, nothing, nothing!" sighed Mrs. Hargrave. "Only I had it all planned to do something nice for Helen." CHAPTER XIX Two days went by, during which Rosanna slept most of the time or tossed about her pretty bed, unable to rest on account of the pain in her head. Rosanna learned then, for the first time, the lesson that it is never right to run away from the duty that faces us. It came to her slowly but surely in the hours of her recovery that no good ever comes to those who shirk. If Rosanna had waited, she would have saved herself and many others a great deal of unhappiness. Rosanna was a very little girl, yet she might have stood firm because she knew in her heart that she was not to blame and that should have given her courage. As she lay there and day by day learned from one and another the terrible suffering her running away had brought on every one, Rosanna was filled with shame and despair. How could any one, how could her grandmother ever forgive her? And the worst of her punishment was that they would not let her talk. She wanted to beg every one who came caring for her so tenderly to forgive her, but the nurse simply would not let her say a word. No one was allowed to stay with her for more than five minutes and then _they_ did all the talking. This did not go on long, of course. Came a day when the nurse smilingly helped her into a big lounging chair and stood by looking on while a hairdresser straightened and trimmed the haggled locks into a perfectly docked hair cut. A bang almost covered the plasters on her temple and when the task was completed, Rosanna felt very dressed up indeed. That afternoon she saw Uncle Robert--a jolly, affectionate Uncle Robert who came to tell her a great piece of news. He had adopted a French orphan, a lovely little girl belonging to a family that had been wiped out in the war. "She made me remember that I had a little niece over here," said Uncle Robert. "I used to tell her about you, and I know you will enjoy knowing her." "Isn't she coming here to live?" asked Rosanna hopefully. "I don't know yet," said Uncle Robert, frowning. "You see I have not told a soul yet excepting yourself. I don't know how that would strike mother. It seems to me that it would give her a good deal of care. Two girls to bring up, you know. Your Uncle Robert tackled a big problem when he adopted an orphan, don't you think so, Rosanna?" "I don't think so," said Rosanna, smiling. "Orphans are real easy to keep, Uncle Robert. You see there are not many bad ones like me." "I won't have you say that!" said Uncle Robert, giving the hand he was holding a little shake. "I think you are a real easy orphan: easy to get along with and easy to look at and easy to keep. I hope mine will be half so good, and I hope I will love her a quarter as well as I do my niece Rosanna." "Oh, thank you, Uncle Robert!" sighed Rosanna. "I am so glad you are home. I had forgotten how nice you are." Uncle Robert rose. "We have said so many nice things to each other that I feel all good and happy inside," he laughed. "And before something happens to make me feel otherwise, here goes your little Uncle Bobby downstairs to talk the thing over with mother. She is in the library with Mrs. Hargrave. The fact is, Rosanna, I was so glad to be at home again and so busy with one thing and another, that I forgot all about Elise. That's her name; Elise. This morning I had a letter from the Red Cross people, and they expect to come over in a couple of weeks. So I must get busy. But honestly, Rosanna, I do think it would be pretty hard for mother to take her in. I could enter her in some good boarding-school in the city." "But they wouldn't _love_ her!" cried Rosanna. "Little girls want to be _loved_." Uncle Robert cleared his throat. "We will have to see to that part somehow, won't we, Rosanna? Well, I will talk to mother, and as soon as we decide I will come and tell you about it. At least I will if you will promise to take a nap." "I will if you will promise to wake me up." "It's a go!" agreed Uncle Robert, and went off whistling. Mrs. Horton heard the whistle. "Robert has something on his mind," she said to Mrs. Hargrave. "He has whistled just like that ever since he was a tiny boy whenever he was fussed or worried or in mischief. He will come in here and tell me something; just you see if he doesn't. Well, Robert," as the young man entered, "did you find Rosanna looking pretty well?" "Perfectly fine! That child is going to be a beauty some day, mother. I never realized how pretty she is." "You have been gone three years, and that makes all the difference in the world in a child her age," said Mrs. Horton. "That may be so," conceded Robert. Then he tumbled headlong into his story, and Mrs. Horton looked at Mrs. Hargrave with an amused smile. "Well, mother, I want to 'fess up to something. I hope you will not pass judgment until I have told you the whole story. Do you both care to listen?" Both ladies assured him that they would be delighted. "For a couple of months I was billeted in a little French village near the border. I was fortunate to find my quarters in a house which must have been very fine at one time. It was very nearly a ruin when I arrived but the owner, an old noblewoman, was still living in one corner and welcomed me as though she was still a woman of leisure and fortune greeting an expected and distinguished guest. She was certainly a dear old lady and we were regular pals in no time. "She did all the work; of course there was no one to help her, except her little niece, an orphan girl about the age of Rosanna. It must have been Rosanna that made me notice her, and she was certainly a dainty little thing. The aunt was miserably ill. I got one of our doctors after her case, but he said there was no hope. She was simply burned out with the terrors and hardships she had been through. And her heart was all to the bad. "She knew it, the plucky old dear. She was a gallant soldier, I can tell you! One night she woke me groaning. I hurried in to her and told her she must let me take care of her all I could. I told her I had a mother at home and all that sort of thing, you know, to make her easy about having me wait on her, and she was no end grateful--more than I deserved. But she worried. She knew that she didn't have the strength to go through many attacks like that, and how she did mourn over that niece. I didn't blame her, seeing the way things are over there. "It went along two weeks more, and one night I heard a gentle tapping on the door of my room. It was Elise, the little girl. Her aunt was having another attack. I hurried in, and as soon as I saw her I knew the poor old lady was going where she would not have to slave and starve any more, and going soon. She took my hand. "'Elise; oh, Elise!' she managed to gasp. Mother, honestly I just could _not_ help it! I said, 'Don't worry, madame! I have told you of my mother and my home. I would esteem it so great a favor, such an honor, if you would give Elise to me.'" Mrs. Horton's lip trembled. Mrs. Hargrave let two large tears slip unnoticed down her pretty, faded pink cheeks. "Well, she died perfectly happy," continued Robert. "And there I was with a little girl on my hands! I turned her over to some women I knew in the Red Cross, and she has been well taken care of ever since. I saw her when I stopped over in Paris on my way home. Food and a little care had made her look like a different child. "Then I sailed, and she sort of slipped my mind until this morning. I have a letter here telling me that the Red Cross friends are about to sail for home and they are bringing Elise, of course. That was the first time I really realized what I had let myself in for. I might have put her in a convent over there if I had not promised the old lady that I would personally look after her. But I did promise! "Now what I want is some advice. Remember, I am not asking you to have Elise here. You have Rosanna and I think that is enough. But you both must know of some nice place where she can be placed and where it would be homelike. I told Rosanna about it when I was up there just now, and she didn't want me to put her in a school. She said little girls wanted to be loved." Mrs. Horton winced. "Did she suggest a place for her?" she asked. "Yes, she did," said Robert. "Didn't she ask you to bring her here?" continued Mrs. Horton. "Oh, Virginia, wait; _please_ wait!" cried Mrs. Hargrave suddenly. "Oh, Virginia, you have Rosanna, and now Robert is home. You don't know how lonely I am. Virginia, Robert dear, you have known me all your life but I am not nearly, nearly as old as I look, and I can love. Give me your little girl, Robert! She can be your ward just the same, but let me have her for my little daughter. I am so lonely, and I will be so good to her!" Mrs. Hargrave buried her face in her tiny handkerchief and sobbed. Robert glanced at his mother. She nodded. Robert went over to Mrs. Hargrave and folded his strong arms round the little old lady. "Dear old friend, how can I ever thank you?" he said. "Of course I know you will be good to the child! Elise is yours!" CHAPTER XX An hour later Robert went up the stairs, wounds, shell shock and all, three steps at a time! He wakened Rosanna by tickling her on the nose. "Well, Rosanna, me dear," said her uncle in a very small-boy and frivolous manner, "there's news a plenty for you." "Well, honey, what's the good word?" he asked her when he had finished. "Oh, Uncle Robert," said Rosanna, "I just never _would_ believe that anything so perfectly lovely could happen out of a book. Just to think of it! What will Helen say? Of course you know, Uncle Robert, that I would have loved to have Elise here, but I just know that Mrs. Hargrave will be so happy. Her house is so big, and there are no noises in it. It always seems as though the rooms are whispering to each other." "I know what you mean," said Robert, nodding. "I like 'em to shout; don't you?" "Well," said Rosanna wisely, "perhaps not quite shout, but it is nice when they talk anyway. Mrs. Hargrave is always wanting to be a fairy godmother to someone, and now she can be just plain really-truly mother, and that is much nicer. I know she will love Elise, and she is so dear to lean up against. She is always so soft and silky feeling." "I never hoped for such luck!" said Uncle Robert. "We want to make a real little American of Elise. We will do great things for her, even if she is going to be Mrs. Hargrave's daughter. I want her to ride and swim, and do all the things you do." "I don't swim, Uncle Robert," said Rosanna. "I wish I could! I will need to know how if she decides to let me join the Girl Scouts." "I am no Girl Scout myself," said Uncle Robert, "but I have a medal or two for long distance swimming, and we are going to turn you into a little fish as soon and as painlessly as we can. So that's all of that! Riding, too. I know you can ride that speck of a pony out there, but you must have a horse now, a real _horse_. I meant to get each of you one but I suppose Mrs. Hargrave will think that it is her privilege to get one for Elise." "Did you feel as though you wanted to spend as much money as two saddle horses would cost?" "I certainly did," said Uncle Robert. "Why?" "Well, if you do feel like that, wouldn't it be nice if Helen could have that other one?" "Rosanna, you have got a brain," said Uncle Robert, patting her hand. "The very thing! One more thing settled. Now about this Girl Scout business. What is it, anyway?" "I can't tell you all about it myself," said Rosanna, "but the daughter of a friend of grandmother's who is at the head of the troop we hope to join is coming over soon to tell me all about it." "Another little girl?" asked Uncle Robert. "No," said Rosanna, "she is a real grown-up young lady; quite old. About twenty, I think, but Helen has met her, and she says she is just as nice as she can be. And grandmother says so too; so it must be so." "It is if mother says so," said Uncle Robert, smiling. "She is hard to please in the matter of 'quite old young ladies.' Well, go on." "There is a book on that table that tells you all about it," said Rosanna. "Why, they learn to do _every_thing, Uncle Robert! And they camp out, and have meetings!" "And passwords and secret signs and all that, I suppose," said Uncle Robert, laughing. "You get to know lots and lots of other girls, too," said Rosanna. "I suppose you do, you poor starved little thing!" said Uncle Robert. "Well, you are going to be one anyhow, for better or for worse, and we will run Elise in. She will have a bad time at first getting used to American children and their ways, but I want to knock off about ninety years from her score. She is too old for any use. It's awful to see a kiddie so settled and grown up." "Mrs. Hargrave is just the one to have her then," said Rosanna, "because Mrs. Hargrave isn't any age at all, really. She looks old on the outside, but she is just as young as Helen and me. She actually makes up things to play! And she can dress paper dolls bea-_u_-ti-fully. Elise will love her right off. Mrs. Hargrave said she wanted to be a Girl Scout herself, but she thought she wouldn't try for it because she could have more fun just visiting them at their meetings and driving out to camp with hampers of goodies. I don't think I can ever tell you, Uncle Robert, how I have wanted to join. Even now I can't feel that it will really come true. Suppose grandmother should change her mind?" "She isn't a changeable person," said Uncle Robert, "and besides she loves you so that she would give you anything in the world that you want except perhaps an airplane." "There is the most beautiful young lady downstairs to see you, dearie," Minnie said, as she came in and straightened Rosanna's coverlet. "She is something in the Girl Scouts, and her name is Miss Marjorie Hooker." "That's the one!" said Rosanna, nodding to Uncle Robert. "Does grandmother say for her to come up here?" "Just for a little while." "Please don't go, Uncle Robert," said Rosanna as he rose. "_Please_ don't go! I wouldn't know what to say to her." "Neither would I," remarked Uncle Robert. "But I feel scared!" pleaded Rosanna. "So do I!" said Uncle Robert. "How do you expect me to talk to ferocious young women Scouts? Does she look very strong, Minnie? Perhaps you noticed if she was carrying a rope?" "_Rope?_" repeated Rosanna. "Yes," said her uncle. "I believe it is a great stunt of the Boy Scouts to learn to tie awfully hard knots and swing a lariat and all that. Perhaps the Girl Scouts do these things too. She might want to show you how it is done. I would just hate to have her tie _me_ up!" "I won't let her," promised Rosanna stoutly. "I will take care of you, Uncle Robert, no matter how big and strong she is. Bring her up, Minnie." "You don't want to be too awful scared, Mr. Robert and Miss Rosanna dear," Minnie giggled. "For one of her size, she looks and acts real mild." "My!" said Rosanna. "I think I know just who Miss Marjorie Hooker is. She lives round the corner on Fourth Street. She is a dark lady, and tall; taller than you. She plays golf all the time. I see her starting out with her clubs every day." "Getting her strength up," said Uncle Robert with a mock groan. "Rosanna, I am a brave man to stay with you. What are the Girl Scouts, I'd like to know, that I should stay here and be roped?" "Hush!" warned Rosanna. "Here they come!" Minnie opened the door and stood aside. Uncle Robert quickly rose, and squared his shoulders. "Miss Hooker to see you, Miss Rosanna," said Minnie with her queer smile. High heels clicked on the hardwood floor, and Miss Marjorie Hooker came in. Uncle Robert suddenly grasped the back of a chair as though he was afraid of falling down. Rosanna sat straight up in bed and stared with round eyes. Miss Marjorie Hooker clicked across the big room and almost shyly took Rosanna's hand. "How do you do?" she said in a silvery, small voice that fitted her tiny self to perfection. "It is so good of you to see me!" "W-w-won't you sit down?" asked Rosanna feebly. Miss Hooker looked at Uncle Robert. "This is my Uncle Robert Horton," said Rosanna prettily. Miss Hooker bowed and smiled, showing two fairy dimples. "I thought perhaps you were the doctor," she tinkled. She sat down in the nearest chair. It was ten times too big for her, but by sitting well toward the edge, her little feet nearly touched the floor. Rosanna kept staring. Uncle Robert seemed to grow very brave. He commenced to talk to the mite and managed to treat her like a really grown-up person. Rosanna was proud of him. But was it possible that this little lady, the smallest grown person she had ever known, was really the Captain of the Girl Scouts? "So you are going to be a Girl Scout?" said Miss Hooker, turning her dimples on Rosanna. "I _want_ to be," said Rosanna. "Do you think they will accept me?" "I know they will be delighted to take you in; but you know that you have certain things to learn and certain preparations to make before you become a regular member." "Yes," said Rosanna. "I have the manual here." "The best thing is for you to read it and then I will explain anything to you that you do not understand. We _do_ have such good times!" She smiled delightfully at Rosanna and at Uncle Robert, who looked really cheered up and happy and showed no signs at all of leaving the room. Rosanna wouldn't have minded if he had. She wanted a chance to talk alone with this fairy-like creature in those ridiculously grown-up clothes. Miss Marjorie Hooker made it quite clear that she had not come to call on Uncle Robert. She had come to see Rosanna. She made it so clear that presently Uncle Robert, who did not want to go at all, spoke of a forgotten engagement and said good-by. When he bent to kiss Rosanna, he whispered, "I don't mind being roped at all, Rosanna!" but Rosanna did not understand. After he had gone, the fairy in the big chair seemed to grow less timid. "I just think it is fine that you are going to be one of us," she said, dimpling delightfully. "We do have the _best_ times! Last summer we went camping on our farm out toward Anchorage. We were in a grove back of the house, and if you didn't have to go down to the house for the newspapers and milk and things, you could imagine that we were miles from everyone. Can you swim?" "No," answered Rosanna, "but I mean to learn." "Oh, you must!" said Miss Hooker. "Everyone should know how." "Of course," agreed Rosanna. "And a great many people do know how, so I suppose I will be able to learn. It seems very hard." "Not a bit of it!" trilled Miss Hooker. "I have several medals for long distance swimming myself, and I taught myself when I was just a little girl." "You are not so very large now, are you?" ventured Rosanna. "No, I am _not_," said Miss Hooker in what was for her quite a cross tone. "Oh, Rosanna, how I would love to be tall! There is a girl round the corner on Fourth Street, and she is about six feet tall, and I just _envy_ her so! Why, what are you laughing at?" "Oh, you please must excuse me!" begged Rosanna, "but when Minnie told us the young lady was coming to see me about the Girl Scouts, Uncle Robert and I both made up our mind that you were that tall young lady. And Uncle Robert said he was sure to be fearfully afraid of you. And instead of that, you are _you_, just as sweet and little! Uncle Robert needn't be afraid a bit, need he?" "I am not at all sure," said Miss Marjorie Hooker. "Perhaps he will have to be terribly afraid of me." CHAPTER XXI It was bedtime one night, and after Rosanna had been tucked in her grandmother came up. She had been doing this ever since Rosanna came home and the little girl had learned to long for the little talks they had together. But this night Mrs. Horton sat down in the big chair, and told Rosanna to come into her arms. Cuddled there on her grandmother's lap, Rosanna rested while they had a talk that neither of them ever forgot. For the first time Rosanna learned all about the little sister, and Mrs. Horton in her turn came to know something of the thoughts and loneliness and longings that go on in a little girl's mind. Rosanna told her grandmother all about it, and if Mrs. Horton hugged her so tight that it almost hurt and cried over her short hair, Rosanna felt all the happier for it. And Mrs. Horton forgot that she was a proud and haughty lady (indeed she was really never that again) and told Rosanna how sorry she was that she had been unloving because she had really never meant her cold manner. She made Rosanna understand that she had always loved her but never, never so deeply or so tenderly as now. And Rosanna begged her forgiveness for running away, and for cutting off her hair. So by-and-by they commenced to talk of happier things, feeling very near and dear to each other the while. It was such a wonderful talk that Rosanna felt that never again would she be unhappy. Before her grandmother left, she told Rosanna that Helen was coming over the following day to take luncheon with her. Minnie had a table set in the broad bay window, and there the luncheon was spread. They scarcely ate at first, they were so glad to see each other. Almost the first thing that Rosanna asked was news of Gwenny. Helen had seen her often and her mother thought that she was slowly growing worse. Helen had been to a meeting at the Girl Scouts and had told them about Gwenny. Perhaps something would be done a little later. Tommy was just as selfish as ever. Helen said it was awfully hard not to dislike him. "I don't even _try_ to like him," said Rosanna. "I don't see how you can be as good and kind as you are, Helen." "Why, I don't like the feeling it gives me when I dislike people," said Helen. "How do you feel?" asked Rosanna. "I never thought about how it makes _me_ feel." "I don't know as I can tell exactly," said Helen, thinking hard. "Sort of as though you were walking over rough cobblestones. I just don't like it. And I feel as though it does something to my color. Just as though I was all lovely pink or blue, and hating or disliking someone made me turn the most horrid sort of plum color." "How funny you are, Helen! When are you going away on your Girl Scout camping trip? Isn't it almost time?" Helen looked embarrassed. "I am not going," she said. "Not _going_?" echoed Rosanna. "Oh, Helen, how _awful_! And you have been planning so long for that. Why are you going to give it up?" "I just changed my mind," she said. "You don't change it away from such a lovely trip if you can help it," Rosanna persisted. "Helen, I believe--Helen, I want you to tell me the truth now. I declare I believe you have given it up on account of _me_!" "Well, then I have," said Helen. "Indeed, Rosanna, I would not have a good time at all off on that trip knowing that you were here just getting well and perhaps missing me. I couldn't do it!" Rosanna could hardly speak. "I just think you are a real true friend, Helen!" she said finally. "I don't think you ought to give up your good times and I can't thank you enough." "I wouldn't enjoy it without you," persisted Helen. "Aren't you thrilled about your uncle's little orphan? And did you ever see anyone so happy as Mrs. Hargrave?" "Never!" said Rosanna. "She has been telling me all about the room she is having decorated. It must be _too_ beautiful!" "It is," said Helen. "I went over there the other day and saw it. You never saw anything so cunning in your life. All the furniture is enameled cream color, with lovely little wreaths of flowers on it. Even her brush and comb and those things are painted ivory. And the walls! In each corner is a little cottage, right on the wall paper you know, Rosanna, and between just woods that look as though you were seeing them through a mist--sort of delicate and far away. And the rugs are a soft delicate green like the grass in spring. I hope she is lovely enough for all the love Mrs. Hargrave is going to give her." "Uncle Robert says she is as sweet as she can possibly be," Rosanna assured her. "Well, you are just too good to stay at home with me, Helen. It won't be long before we are both Girl Scouts. And I think you are just as good and sweet as you can be. I can't think what I would have done without you. But here you are actually giving up your camping for me." Rosanna leaned over and impulsively kissed her guest. "Dear Helen, I am _so_ happy," she said, "because now I know that I am really your _best_ friend." 
29373	----	file was made using scans of public domain works put online by Harvard University Library's Open Collections Program, Women Working 1800 - 1930) DEPARTMENT OF THE INTERIOR BUREAU OF EDUCATION BULLETIN, 1921, No. 46 EDUCATIONAL WORK OF THE GIRL SCOUTS LOUISE STEVENS BRYANT EDUCATIONAL SECRETARY GIRL SCOUTS [Advance sheets from the Biennial Survey of Education in the United States, 1918-1920] [Illustration: DEPARTMENT OF THE INTERIOR] WASHINGTON GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE 1921 ADDITIONAL COPIES OF THIS PUBLICATION MAY BE PROCURED FROM THE SUPERINTENDENT OF DOCUMENTS GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE WASHINGTON, D. C. AT 5 CENTS PER COPY EDUCATIONAL WORK OF THE GIRL SCOUTS. By LOUISE STEVENS BRYANT, _Educational Secretary, Girl Scouts._ CONTENTS.--History and growth--Activities--Methods--Organization. Do you believe that girls should like to work at home, to cook and clean house and mind the baby? Do you believe that a girl should like to take care of her clothes and be able to make them; that she should know how to be thrifty and to conserve the family money in buying and using food and clothing; that she should play a fair game and put the group above her personal interests? Do you believe that she should value a strong healthy body above clothes and cosmetics, and rejoice in the hope of being some day the healthy mother of healthy children? If you do, you believe in the Girl Scouts, for in this organization the girls learn all these things in such a happy way that they _like_ to do them, which means that they keep on doing them. The Girl Scouts, a national organization, is open to any girl who expresses her desire to join, and voluntarily accepts the promise and the laws. The object of the Girl Scouts is to bring to all girls the opportunity for group experience, outdoor life, and to learn through work, but more by play, to serve their community. Patterned after the Girl Guides of England, the sister organization of the Boy Scouts, the Girl Scouts have developed a method of self-government and a variety of activities that appear to be well suited to the desires of the girls, as the 89,864 scouts and the 2,500 new applicants each month testify. HISTORY AND GROWTH. Girl Scouts and their leaders, to the number of 89,864, were in 1920 organized in every State, and in Hawaii, Porto Rico, and Alaska. There are troops in 1,400 cities, and local councils in 162 places. This represents a tremendous growth since the founding by Mrs. Juliette Low in March, 1912, of a handful of enthusiastic "Girl Guides" in Savannah, Ga. In 1915 the growth of the movement warranted its national incorporation; so headquarters were established in Washington, D. C., and the name changed to Girl Scouts, Incorporated. In 1916 the headquarters were removed to New York, and are now located at 189 Lexington Avenue. From the start the organization has been nonsectarian and open to all races and nationalities. Through the International Council the Girl Scouts are affiliated with the Girl Guides of England and all parts of the British Empire, and similar organizations in other parts of the world. At the 1920 meeting of the international conference at London, reports were received from Italy, France, Belgium, Switzerland, Poland, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Holland, Portugal, Russia, Czechoslovakia, Brazil, Argentina, Japan, China, and Siberia, as well as from all parts of the British Empire, and the United States. From a membership of 9,769 in January, 1918, the girl scouts grew to 89,864 in 1921, at the rate of nearly 10 to 1 in three years. The greatest relative growth was in 1918, when the membership grew fourfold. During 1919 the increase over the preceding year was more than two-thirds, while in 1920 the relative increase was one-third. The details are as shown in the accompanying table. This growth is due to a spontaneous demand of community after community for scouting for girls, and not to deliberate propaganda on the part of the national headquarters. The reasons for it are therefore to be sought in the activities and methods themselves, which make such widespread appeal. ACTIVITIES. A glance through the handbook, Scouting for Girls, will show that the activities of the girl scouts center about the three interests--Home, Health, and Citizenship. _Home._--The program provides incentives for practicing woman's world-old arts by requiring an elementary proficiency in cooking, housekeeping, first aid, and the rules of healthful living for any girl scout passing beyond the Tenderfoot stage. Of the forty-odd subjects for which Proficiency Badges are given, more than one-fourth are in subjects directly related to the services of woman in the home, as mother, nurse, or home-keeper. _Growth of Girl Scout membership, Jan. 1, 1918, to Jan. 1, 1921--Active registrations._ January 1. Officers. Increase. Scouts. Increase. Total. Increase. 1918 1,314 ...... 8,455 ...... 9,769 ...... 1919 3,823 2,509 36,847 28,392 40,670 30,901 1920 5,357 1,534 61,754 24,907 67,111 26,441 1921 6,839 1,482 83,025 21,271 89,864 22,753 Into this work, so often distasteful because solitary, is brought the sense of comradeship. This is effected partly by having much of the actual training done in groups. Another element is the public recognition and rewarding of skill in this, woman's most elementary service to the world, usually taken for granted and ignored. The spirit of play infused into the simplest and most repetitious of household tasks banishes drudgery. "Give us, oh, give us," says Carlyle, "the man who sings at his work. He will do more in the same time, he will do it better, he will persevere longer. Wondrous is the strength of cheerfulness; altogether past comprehension its power of endurance." While the place of most production is to-day outside the home, much of the final preparation of goods, particularly food and clothing, is still done there. So that, while the homecrafts are far from being the vital necessities they once were, they are still needed. Handicrafts of many sorts enter into the program of the girl scouts. In camping, girls must know how to set up tents, build lean-to's, and construct fireplaces. They must also know how to make knots of various sorts to use for bandages, tying parcels, hitching, etc. Among the productive occupations in which Proficiency Badges are awarded are cooking, house planning, beekeeping, dairying and general farming, gardening, millinery, weaving, and needlework. While production has left the home, consumption is increasingly the business of the home-keeping woman. There are few purchases, even for men's own use, which women do not have a hand in selecting. Practically the entire burden of household buying in all departments falls on the woman, who is thus in a position to learn how to spend wisely and make the most of each dollar. In France this has long been recognized, and the women of the middle classes are the buying partners and bookkeepers in their husbands' business. The girl-scout organization encourages thrifty habits and economy in buying in all of its activities. The scout troops are self-supporting, and are expected to earn most of their equipment by means of rallies, pageants, plays, as well as by individual effort. One of the 10 scout laws is that "A girl scout is thrifty." _Health._--The girl scout learns that "a cheerful scout, a clean scout, a helpful scout is a well scout. She is the only scout that really _is prepared_." So that health, physical and mental, is the keynote to the scout activities, which are calculated to develop the habit of health, rather than simply to give information about anatomy or physiology. Personal health is recognized by the badge of "Health Winner," given to the girl who for three months follows certain rules of living, such as eating only wholesome food, drinking plenty of water, going to bed early, exercising in the open air, and keeping clean, and who shows the result by improved posture, and by the absence of constipation and colds. Outdoor sports, swimming, boating, and dancing are other health-producing activities. Of all health-promoting activities, camping is the best, and this means all stages of life in the open, from the day's hike, with one meal out of doors, to the overnight or week-end hike, and finally the real, big camp, open all summer. Girl scouts learn how to dress for outdoor living, how to walk without fatigue, and how to provide themselves with food, warmth, and shelter, so that "roughing it" does not mean being uncomfortable. During 1920, 50 large girl-scout camps were maintained in 16 States. These are self-supporting, and as they are open for 10 weeks as a rule and accommodate about 50 girls at a time, they give an opportunity to several thousand for the best sort of holiday. The idea is to have enough camps to give every scout the experience. To promote this work national headquarters maintains a camping section and has published a book, "Campward Ho!" which gives full directions for organizing and running large, self-supporting camps for girls. Community health habits are quite as important as the purely personal, and the older girl scout is expected to become a "health guardian," which means that she takes an intelligent interest in the things pertaining to public health, such as playgrounds, swimming pools, school lunches, the water and milk supplies, clean streets, the disposition of waste and garbage, the registration of births, and the prevention of infant mortality. She also learns how to help in times of emergency as first aid, in sickness as home nurse, and at any time as child nurse. A scout whose mind is filled with interesting facts about birds and animals and trees, and who is busy playing games with her companions or in making useful and beautiful things and in rendering active service to her home and community, is apt to have a healthy mind without thinking much about it. And she has a little rule for the blue times, which is "to smile and sing under all difficulties." _Citizenship._--The basic organization of the girl scouts into the self-governing unit of a patrol is in itself an excellent means of political training. Patrols and troops conduct their own meetings, and the scouts learn the elements of parliamentary law. Working together in groups, they realize the necessity for democratic decisions. They also come to have community interests of an impersonal sort. This is perhaps the greatest single contribution of the scouts toward the training of girls for citizenship. Little boys play not only together but with men and boys of all ages. The interest of baseball is not confined to any one age. The rules of the game are the same for all, and the smallest boy's judgment on the skill of the players may be as valid as that of the oldest "fan." Girls have had in the past no such common interests. Their games have been either solitary or in very small groups, in activities largely of a personal character. If women are to be effective in modern political society, they must have from earliest youth gregarious interests and occupations. Among the scout activities that tend to develop this larger community sense are games, athletic sports of all kinds, including team work and competition between small, well-knit groups. Folk dancing and other forms of amusement, such as dramatics, pageants, and story-telling, serve a similar purpose because they all mean the possession of a resource not only for the right use of the girl's own leisure time, but for serving this need in the community. METHODS. The activities of the girl scouts are, of course, not peculiar to this organization. Every one of them is provided for elsewhere, in schools, clubs, and societies. But the way in which they are combined and coordinated about certain basic principles is peculiar to the girl scouts. In the first place all these activities have a common motive, which is preparation for a fuller life for the individual, not only in her personal but in her social relations. It is believed that both the habits formed and the concrete information acquired contribute to the girls being ready to meet intelligently most of the situations that are likely to arise in their later life. This concept is expressed in the girl scout's motto, "Be prepared." The method of preparation followed is that found in nature, whereby young animals and birds _play_ at doing all the things they will need to do well when they are grown and must feed and fend for themselves and their babies. The heart of the girl scouts' laws is helpfulness, and so the scouts have a slogan: "Do a good turn daily." By following this in letter and spirit, helpfulness becomes second nature. Because the girl scouts are citizens they know and respect the meaning of the flag, and one of the first things they learn is the pledge: "I pledge allegiance to my flag, and to the Republic for which it stands; one Nation indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." Some observers have criticized the girl-scout organization because of its apparently military character. It is true that the girls wear a uniform of khaki and are grouped in patrols corresponding to the "fours" in the Army; that they salute and learn simple forms of drill and signaling. But the reason they do these is because the military organization happens to be the oldest form of organization in the world, and it works. It is the best way men have found of getting a number of persons to work together. Following directions given to a group is quite a different matter from doing something alone, and most of us need special training in this. A group of eight has been found to work the best, because it is the largest number that can be handled by a person just beginning to be a leader, and, moreover, elementary qualities of leadership seem to exist in just about the proportion of one in eight. It is probably on this account that children take so kindly to the form, rather than because of any glamor of the army, though this must be admitted as a factor. In actual practice the drill and signaling take up a very small portion of the program and are nowhere followed as ends in themselves, but only as a means to an end. _Uniform._--The uniform is simple, durable, and allows freedom of action. It is of khaki because this has been found to be the best wearing fabric and color. It is not easily torn and does not readily soil. Wearing it gives the girls a sense of belonging to a larger group, such as it is hard to get in any other way. It keeps constantly before them the fact that they represent a community to whose laws they have voluntarily subscribed, and whose honor they uphold. It is well, too, to have an impersonal costume, if for no other reason than to counteract the tendency of girls to concentrate upon their personal appearance. To have a neat, simple, useful garb is a novel experience to many an overdressed doll who has been taught to measure all worth by extravagance of appearance. ORGANIZATION. The outstanding feature of the girl-scout organization is its voluntary character. Among some 7,400 officers and leaders of girl scouts throughout the country in the fall of 1920, just 211 were "paid workers." This is about 3 per cent. The organization is actually a great volunteer school of citizenship in which the women of the country share with their younger sisters the results of their own experience in ideals and practical working knowledge of community living. Scout troops are organized either independently or in connection with public and private schools, churches, settlements, and other associations. _Scouts of different ages._--The original girl-scout program was designed mainly with the needs of the young adolescent in mind, and the age was fixed from 10 to 18 years. But the little girls wanted to come in, and so a separate division was made for them called the Brownies or Junior Scouts. Then the older girls and women wanted to join, and as time went on the original girl scouts grew up but not out of the scout movement, and programs are being made for Citizen Scouts who are 18 and over. The three age groups seem to be natural ones, and each has its own methods and activities. The Brownies are formed into packs, under the leadership of a "Brown Owl," and play games and learn self-help and how to "lend a hand" to their families. The Citizen Scouts are expected to be self-directing and to take actual part in the life of the community and, either as wage earners or service givers, to pay their way. But the large majority of all girl scouts belong to the middle group. More girls register at 13 than at any other age. This is interesting, as it marks the age of susceptibility to social ideas, shown also by the fact that it is the most common age of religious conversion. It is also the age of first crime. The distribution of ages at first registration is shown by the accompanying table. The organization of the regular girl scouts is as follows: _Ages of Girl Scouts at first registration._ ------------+--------+----------- Ages. | Number.| Per 1,000. ------------+--------+----------- | | 6-9 | 440 | 5 10 | 6,059 | 73 11 | 9,130 | 110 12 | 14,857 | 179 13 | 16,434 | 198 14 | 14,276 | 172 15 | 10,707 | 129 16 | 5,810 | 70 17 | 3,486 | 42 +--------+----------- Total 10-17 | 80,759 | 978 18 and over | 1,826 | 22 +--------+----------- Grand total | 83,025 | 1,000 ------------+--------+----------- _Patrol._--Eight girls form a Patrol, which is the working unit. One of them is elected patrol leader and has charge of the activities for as long as the patrol wishes. It is desirable to have each girl of a patrol serve as a leader at some time or other. _Troop._--One or more patrols constitute a Troop, which is the administrative unit recognized by the national organization. The Troop meets weekly and wherever possible at a place which "belongs" to it. When possible troops should meet outdoors. The troops are self-supporting and earn money for all equipment as well as for camps and hikes or special activities. Troops are registered with national headquarters and pay annual dues of 50 cents for each member. They also have their own local dues, generally 5 or 10 cents weekly. _Captain._--The troop is under the direction of a Captain, who must be at least 21 years of age and whose qualification as a leader of young girls is passed upon by national headquarters before she is commissioned. _Lieutenant._--A captain may have one or more Lieutenants, who must be at least 18 years of age, and whose commissions are likewise subject to control by national headquarters. Captains and lieutenants may be organized into associations in any given locality. _Scout classes._--There are three classes of girl scouts, the youngest being the "Tenderfoot," the name given by frontiersmen to the man from the city who is not hardened to the rough life out of doors. Even the Tenderfoot, however, has to know some things, including the promise, laws, slogan, and motto; how to salute and the respect due to the flag; how to make an American flag; and how to tie at least four kinds of useful knots. She must also have earned enough money to buy some part of her scout equipment. The "Second-class" scout has been a tenderfoot for at least one month and can pass a test of distinctly greater difficulty. This includes, under home interests, the ability to make fires in stoves and out of doors, to cook a simple dish so that it will be palatable, to set a table for two courses, to make an ordinary and a hospital bed, and to sew. Under health interests, she must know the main rules of healthful living, her own height and weight, and their relation to the standard; some simple first-aid points such as stopping bleeding, removing speck from eye, and bandaging a sprained ankle. She must also have a variety of facts at her command that will keep her alert and interested when out of doors, such as an acquaintance with animals, birds, and plants, the use of a compass, the alphabet of a signal code; and must demonstrate her ability to observe her surroundings accurately and quickly so as to report upon them. Under topics preparing for citizenship she must know the history of the American flag, how to prevent fire, and what to do in case of fire, and must have served her troop, church, or community in some way and earned or saved money for some personal or troop equipment. The highest rank is that of "First-class" scout, and is to be attained only by a young person of considerable accomplishment. She must be able to find her way about city or country without any of the usual aids, using only the compass and her developed judgment of distance and direction. She must also be able to communicate and receive messages by signaling. She must have shown proficiency in home nursing, first aid, and housekeeping, and, in addition, in either child care, personal health, laundering, cooking, needlework, or gardening. She must also be an all-round outdoors person, familiar with camping and able to lead in this, or be a good skater or a naturalist or be able to swim. Not only must she know all these different things, but she must have trained a tenderfoot, started a savings account, and served her community in some tangible way. _Proficiency badges._--After a girl scout has attained to first class there are still other worlds to conquer, as the badges she has earned on the way are only a few of the many to be worked toward. There are no less than 47 subjects in which a scout may achieve, and more are being added. Just to mention a few: A girl scout may be an artist, a beekeeper, a business woman, a craftsman, or a dancer; an electrician, a farmer, a flower finder, a horsewoman, an interpreter, a motorist; or a musician, a scribe, a swimmer, or a star gazer. The highest award given is the Golden Eaglet, which means the earning of 21 Merit Badges, of which 15 are in required subjects. About 2,000 Merit Badges are earned a month. An analysis of the subjects shows that home nursing is the most popular, with 126 of each 1,000 earned. Laundress comes next with 97. First aid is next with 67. Needlewoman, child nurse, cook, pathfinder, health guardian, flower finder or zoologist, and home maker complete the first 10 most popular badges, with between 61 and 38 in each 1,000. The details are shown in the accompanying table. _Local councils._--Where troops are numerous it is usual to form a council composed of women and men representing all the best interests of the community: Parents, schools, religious denominations of all sorts, business, producers, women's clubs, and other social and philanthropic organizations. The council acts as the link between the girl scouts and the community. It has the same relation to the separate troops that the school board has to the schools--that is, it guides and decides upon policies and standards, interprets the scouts to the community and the community to the scouts. It does not do the executive or teaching work; that belongs to the directors, captains, lieutenants, and patrol leaders. One function of the council is to interest public-spirited women and men, particularly artists and scientists, in girl-scout work and to get them to act as referees in awarding proficiency badges. But wisdom is to be sought not only in large cities, where there are schools and museums, laboratories and studios. It is a poor community that does not have at least one wise old person--a farmer learned in nature's ways, a retired sailor stocked with sea lore, or a mother of men who knows life as perhaps no one else can. The wise council will know where to find these natural teachers and see that the scouts go to their schools. Another prime function of the council is to raise funds and to make available such material equipment as camp sites, meeting places for the troops, etc. The captain should turn to the council for help in arranging and directing rallies, dances, fairs, pageants, and other devices for entertainment or securing money. _National organization._--The central governing body of the girl scouts is the national council, holding an annual convention of elected delegates from all local groups. The national council works through an executive board, which meets monthly and conducts national headquarters in New York. The national director is in charge of headquarters and his direct responsibility for the administration of the whole organization, with the general divisions of field, business, publication, and education, each in charge of a secretary. The field work is administered through 14 regions, each covering several States, and in charge of a regional director, who helps in the formation of local councils, the training of captains, and acts as general supervisor and consultant for all work in the district. Under business comes the handling of mails, all the work of the shop where uniforms, insignia, books, badges, flags, and other equipment are sold, and the distribution of material ordered by mail. There are three classes of publications: First, a monthly journal, The American Girl. Second, pamphlets and articles for general propaganda and publicity; these are handled by the editorial and publicity staffs, respectively. Third come publications of a technical nature, like the official handbooks for scouts and officers and outlines for training courses. These form part of the work of the education department, which has general oversight of all that pertains to training for leaders and the development of standards of work, including the important feature of coordinating the girl scouts with the other educational and social organizations. Camping also forms a part of the work of the education department. During 1919 and 1920 the following publications were issued: _Scouting for Girls:_ The official handbook, 576 pages. _Campward Ho:_ A manual for girl-scout camps, 192 pages. Designed to cover the needs of those undertaking to organize and direct large, self-supporting camps for girls. _The Blue Book of Rules for Girl Scout Captains:_ All official rules and regulations, 32 pages. _Training Courses:_ (1) Outline for 32-period course, 17 pages. (2) Introductory course, 10 periods, 16 pages. _Girl Scout Health Record:_ Booklet form for recording points for health winner's badge. _Miscellaneous Pamphlets:_ Averaging 8 pages; 128,325 copies. _Need for leaders._--The growth in membership has been twice as rapid among the scouts as it has among the officers, as may be seen in the table already given. For every scout in 1918 we have 10 in 1921. For every officer in 1918 we have but 5 in 1921. For some time to come, therefore, the energy of the national officers must be directed toward the securing of properly trained leaders. Colleges and higher schools are responding to a gratifying extent with the introduction of training courses in scouting for girls. Within two years courses have been given at the following colleges or universities: Adelphi, Boston, Bryn Mawr, Carnegie Institute, Cincinnati, Converse, Elmira, Hunter, Johns Hopkins, Missouri, New Rochelle, Northwestern, Pittsburg, Rochester Mechanics' Institute, Rochester University, Rockford, Simmons, Smith, Syracuse, Teachers' College, and Vassar. Also at the following higher schools: Battle Creek Normal School of Physical Education, Brooklyn Training School for Teachers, Chautauqua Institute, Chicago Normal School of Physical Education, Community Service Council of Marquette County, Mich., Manhattan Trade School for Girls, Milwaukee Normal, State Normal at Pittsburgh, Pa., Washington State Normal, and Western State Normal, Mich. The following schools and colleges are asking for courses: Chicago, Cornell, Detroit Normal, Kalamazoo, Michigan State Normal, Pennsylvania State, and Temple University. Through cooperation with the deans of women in all parts of the country, and with the Intercollegiate Community Service Association, the college women are being influenced to take up scouting as an extra academic activity before graduation, and as a form of community service in their home towns later. In addition to this work through existing educational bodies, many special courses are conducted in connection with the organizations of local councils. The First National Training School for Girl Scout Officers has been conducted for four years, the last two years at Long Pond Camp in Plymouth, Mass. During the summer of 1920 special training camps were also held in connection with the councils of Greater New York, Cincinnati, and Harrisburg, with instruction given under the auspices of national headquarters. Five such camps are planned for 1921, located in Plymouth, Central Valley, in the Catskills, Lake Mohegan, N. Y., Philadelphia, and Cincinnati. _Scouting in the public schools._--Only that organization for young people can succeed which contributes directly to their chief business, which is getting an education. One reason the girl scout organization is received so cheerfully by school people is that it works into the school's own plans to a remarkable degree. Local councils have a larger representation from the public schools than from any other single agency. Scout leaders are drawn largely from the teaching force because teachers naturally have a better insight into the needs of young people than any other single group. In a few places this interest has resulted in the gradual assimilation of scouting into the school system. At Fort Scott, Kans., this work has progressed furthest, with 90 per cent of all pupils of scout age, either boy or girl scouts. Supt. Ramsey made a most favorable report on this situation at the Cleveland meeting of the Department of Superintendence of the National Education Association in 1920. Among essential features he mentioned the following: The boy scout executive and girl scout commissioner act as recreational directors and have charge of all the health education and vocational guidance. A room is set aside in the Junior High School for all scout work which, however, is passed upon by a council, including persons outside of the school force. Through glee clubs and choruses great interest in community singing and other music has been developed. The scout organization is helping to solve the dress problem for both boys and girls. "To give the modern ideals of education would be to state the ideals of scouting." The modern teacher is increasingly well fitted to become a good scout leader. Scouting may best be promoted through the public school, because that is the only organization that includes all the boys and girls. Moreover, because of close daily association, leaders of school troops can insure each scout being an active scout. The school also benefits by scouting in a number of ways. Older pupils stay in school longer because of their interest in scouting than because of any other influence. "A year of work in scouting will do as much toward acquainting a teacher with the ideals of teaching as a year spent in any college or university of the country." Finally, scouting secures the interest, attention, and good will of the parents to the public schools. _Girl Scout badges earned in 1919-20._ -------------------------------+---------+----------- Subject. | Number. | Per 1,000. -------------------------------+---------+----------- | | 1. Home nurse | 2,852 | 126 2. Laundress | 2,192 | 97 3. First aid | 1,523 | 67 4. Needlewoman | 1,389 | 61 5. Child nurse | 1,267 | 56 6. Cook | 991 | 44 7. Pathfinder | 990 | 44 8. Health guardian | 923 | 41 9. Flower finder or zoologist | 878 | 39 10. Home maker | 861 | 38 11. Citizen | 732 | 32 12. Signaler | 647 | 28 13. Bird hunter | 636 | 28 14. Health winner | 600 | 26 15. Pioneer | 595 | 26 16. Artist | 592 | 26 17. Musician | 580 | 26 18. Interpreter | 578 | 25 19. Swimmer | 557 | 25 20. Business | 424 | 19 21. Cyclist | 422 | 19 22. Gardener | 393 | 17 23. Athlete | 345 | 15 24. Horsewoman | 266 | 12 25. Bugler | 254 | 11 26. Scribe | 216 | 10 27. Telegrapher | 192 | 8 28. Motorist | 190 | 8 29. Dairy maid | 190 | 8 30. Farmer | 187 | 8 31. Sailor | 130 | 6 32. Electrician | 101 | 4 | | Total | 22,693 | 1,000 -------------------------------+---------+----------- TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: On the second table, first column, the totals look a little confusing, but properly read they are correct. The sub-total does not take into account the first line (440) making the total 80,759. Adding it back in gives the total of 81,199 plus 1,826 (18+) gives the correct grand total. It has been left as in the original. There is a variation between girl-scout and girl scout; girl-scout denotes the organization, and girl scout pertains to an individual. They have been left as in the original. Only one typo found and corrected; susceptibility was misspelled as "susceptibilty". 
25801	----	Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustration. See 25801-h.htm or 25801-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/5/8/0/25801/25801-h/25801-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/5/8/0/25801/25801-h.zip) The Girl Scouts Series THE GIRL SCOUTS IN BEECHWOOD FOREST * * * * * * BOOKS BY MARGARET VANDERCOOK THE RANCH GIRLS SERIES The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge The Ranch Girls' Pot of Gold The Ranch Girls at Boarding School The Ranch Girls in Europe The Ranch Girls at Home Again The Ranch Girls and their Great Adventure The Ranch Girls and their Heart's Desire The Ranch Girls and the Silver Arrow THE RED CROSS SERIES The Red Cross Girls in the British Trenches The Red Cross Girls on the French Firing Line The Red Cross Girls in Belgium The Red Cross Girls with the Russian Army The Red Cross Girls with the Italian Army The Red Cross Girls under the Stars and Stripes The Red Cross Girls Afloat with the Flag The Red Cross Girls with Pershing to Victory The Red Cross Girls with the U. S. Marines The Red Cross Girls in the National Capital STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS The Camp Fire Girls at Sunrise Hill The Camp Fire Girls Amid the Snows The Camp Fire Girls in the Outside World The Camp Fire Girls across the Sea The Camp Fire Girls' Careers The Camp Fire Girls in After Years The Camp Fire Girls on the Edge of the Desert The Camp Fire Girls at the End of the Trail The Camp Fire Girls Behind the Lines The Camp Fire Girls on the Field of Honor The Camp Fire Girls in Glorious France The Camp Fire Girls in Merrie England The Camp Fire Girls at Half Moon Lake THE GIRL SCOUTS SERIES The Girl Scouts of the Eagle's Wing The Girl Scouts in Beechwood Forest The Girl Scouts of the Round Table * * * * * * [Illustration: She Arranged Two Such Smoke Columns] * * * * * * The Girl Scouts Series THE GIRL SCOUTS IN BEECHWOOD FOREST by MARGARET VANDERCOOK Author of "The Ranch Girls Series," "The Red Cross Girls Series," "Stories About Camp Fire Girls," etc. Illustrated The John C. Winston Company Publishers Philadelphia Copyright, 1921, by The John C. Winston Company Made in U. S. A. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. Flame 7 II. Looking Backward 19 III. Their Camp 29 IV. Right About, Face 37 V. A Discussion 47 VI. "The Choros" 62 VII. Other Girls 72 VIII. Light and Shade 85 IX. The Odyssey 97 X. Consultations and Decisions 108 XI. Out of the Past 125 XII. Retrospection 135 XIII. A Portrait 142 XIV. Disagreements 149 XV. The Choice 159 XVI. The Greek Spirit 169 XVII. A Classic Revival 176 XVIII. The Passing 191 XIX. Letters 204 XX. Looking Forward 211 XXI. Kara's Departure 215 CHAPTER I FLAME The flame ascended, ending in a little spiral of smoke curling upward in the night air. Overhead the stars shone, the pine trees formed dark shadows. Within the radius of the firelight a girl leaned forward, her eyes fastened upon a drawing she held in her lap. One could see only vague outlines. The light danced over the figure of the girl, her bright, reddish-gold hair, cut short and held in place with an amber comb, her slender shoulders, the unconsciously graceful poise of her body. She turned to glance anxiously at another figure lying outstretched upon the ground only a few feet away. This girl appeared to be sleeping. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing fitfully. Suddenly she opened her eyes and smiled. "Tory Drew, aren't you ever going to sleep?" she demanded. "Is it your intention to sit up all night and keep guard over me? I told you that I was not suffering in the least. My fall seems not to have injured me, only for some strange reason has made it difficult for me to walk. We have been longing to spend a night out of doors alone ever since we arrived at our camp in Beechwood Forest. This is an unexpected opportunity, yet you do not look grateful. Small wonder if you are never going to sleep! What time do you think it is?" Victoria Drew leaned closer toward the fire and looked at her wrist watch. "It is half-past twelve o'clock, Kara. The witching hour over and I have seen no woodland spirits come to haunt us, and no human beings. I am afraid my signals have failed to attract attention. The other girls at camp must have decided to give us up for lost and await our return in the morning; I am sorry for your sake. Are you sure you are not uncomfortable?" Tory arose and bent over her companion, not so convinced that the entire absence from pain, which Kara insisted upon, was absolute proof that she was not seriously hurt. In the firelight the other girl's face appeared white and unreal. To any one so impressionable as Tory the past few hours bore a semblance of unreality. Early in the morning of the previous day she and Katherine Moore had set out from their camp in Beechwood Forest to spend the day alone among the hills. For some time they had been planning this excursion when the duties and amusements of camp life made a break possible. How differently from their plan and expectation this day had gone! As Kara was beginning to fall asleep again Tory need no longer conceal her anxiety. By the fire, now freshly piled with pine cones and branches, she sat down and propping her chin in her hands, gazed deep into the burning embers. The night was very still, save for a light wind in the tree tops. On the ground beside her, with a stone keeping them from blowing away, lay the result of her day's work. She had sketched all morning while Kara wandered about or else rested and read. Before daylight they had wakened in their Girl Scout Camp in Beechwood Forest. By dawn, with their luncheon packed and her sketching outfit, they had set out to explore the heart of the hills, a purple rim bordering the far side of their own camping site. During the previous winter in the small Connecticut village Tory faithfully had fulfilled her promise to her artist father. She had made no attempt to go on with her drawing and painting, devoting all her time and energy to her school, her new home and her Girl Scout Troop. With summer had come the release from her promise. These days of camping in the woods with the other Girl Scouts recalled the enchanting months outdoors she had spent with her father. Every green tree outlined against the summer sky, their canoes on the lake before the camping grounds, the Girl Scouts at work or at play, all were pictures Tory longed to transfer to line and color. Until to-day the business of getting settled at their summer camp had left scant opportunity for artistic effort outside the camping arrangements. Tory picked up the pile of sketches on the ground beside her. She studied each one carefully and then tossed it into the fire. Her present work was valueless; she had become so hopelessly out of practice. Finally her eyes rested on a single sheet of drawing paper. On the instant her expression altered. This sketch was not without worth. She had drawn it with pastels and in the light from the camp fire. The lines were crude and the colors too vivid, but it showed the figure of a girl lying on the ground, her eyelids closed, her figure expressing a curious quiet. The lower part of the body was covered. At present Tory Drew was without the khaki coat which she had worn earlier in the day. Beside the figure the smoke and flame of the camp fire formed light and shadow. Tory sighed. "At least this will serve for our camp log! The other girls can see how Kara looked during this interminable night. She will be able to write the account of her fall. I remember that I was diligently at work upon an impossible drawing of a line of hills when I heard the noise of a landslide. There was a sound of earth and rocks being torn from their foundation and tumbling and sliding down an embankment. I scarcely looked up. Kara had disappeared for a walk, so there was no one to whom I might mention the fact. Certainly I had no thought of associating the noise with her." Again Tory arose. This time she moved farther from the fire, walking restlessly up and down toward the clearing which opened into a dark forest of evergreens. The night was a mild summer night. There was in the atmosphere the coolness of the wooded places surrounding them. Her fire signals had not been observed on either side of the hill. Tory's impression was that their camp of "The Eagle's Wing" lay to the west of the hill, although by no means immediately below it. On the eastern slope and nearer by was the Boy Scout camp. This camp the girls of her own Troop had been deliberately ignoring. At present Tory realized that she would gladly accept aid from either or any direction. Had Kara been well and awake, or if they had been able to dream beside one another, the long night would have proved a delightful experience. From the depth of the woods an owl was crying. Tory repressed a slight shudder, controlling her nerves by an effort. The sound recalled the vague moaning that first aroused her to any knowledge of Kara's accident. Once more she could see Kara lying at the bottom of a tiny precipice. Her face was covered with rocks and earth, but there was no sign that she had fallen any distance or been seriously hurt. Now in retrospection Tory could see Kara smiling up at her in the old humorous fashion. She could hear her voice with the gentle drawl that had attracted her so strongly at their original meeting. "Most extraordinary thing, Tory darling. I slid off that small embankment a short time ago, bringing most of it along with me. I was considerably bumped and I presume bruised, but not hurt. However, I decided to lie still here for a while until I recovered my nerves and disposition. Then I tried to climb back to you for consolation and found that my legs _would_ crumple under me in the most absurd fashion. So I fell to making disagreeable noises so you would come and find me. What are we going to do, Tory? I can't walk and I weigh too much for you to carry." Yet she must have carried her, or else Kara must have been able to walk a little! Somehow they had managed to reach this clearing nearer the summit of the hill. Here a fire signal could be more plainly observed. Six hours had passed. Not for five minutes had Tory allowed the fire signal to die down. No one had replied either by another signal or by coming to their rescue. Fortunately Kara slept the greater part of the time. Now that the night was fully advanced she would be more comfortable where she was than carried down the mountainside, where there was no well defined path. One had to seek the easiest way between the trees. For her own part Tory concluded that she might as well attempt to sleep for as long as her fire could be trusted to continue burning. The pine wood was filled with brush and the night so bright she could find without difficulty what she was seeking. Returning, Tory smothered over the fire so that it might burn for some time without replenishing. She then lay down beside Kara. Toward morning she must have dreamed. She woke with the impression that a number of years had passed, or what seemed a long passage of time, and in the interval she and Kara had been searching the world over for each other and unable to meet. Glad she was to reach over and touch her companion, who scarcely had stirred. Already the sky was streaked with light, palest rose and blue. Strengthened and refreshed, Tory set to work again. The summer morning was exquisite, the odor of the pine trees never so fragrant, nor the air so delicious. Failing in her signals for help the evening before, she now determined to make a more strenuous effort. Intending to return to camp before dusk, she and Kara had neglected to bring a flashlight or a lantern which might have proved more effective. With the coming of darkness she had not relied on solid columns of black smoke being seen at any distance. Now on a farther ridge of the hill she arranged two such smoke columns, remembering that two steady smokes side by side mean "I am lost, come and help me." If she failed a second time, she determined to go down the hill until she was able to secure aid. But this meant leaving Kara alone, which even for a short time she did not wish to do. The waiting was the difficult task. To her own embarrassment Tory realized that she was thinking more of her own hunger than of Kara's need as the minutes wore on and no one arrived. Fortunately she had saved a small quantity of coffee in their thermos bottle the day before. This must be for Kara when she finally awakened. There was nothing to occupy one save to rise now and then and stir the hot ashes to a fresh blaze, covering them afterwards with the green wood of the small beeches that straggled up the hill away from the shadow of the pines. The noise of footsteps up the mountainside actually failed to arouse Tory until they were not far away. She first heard an exclamation from Kara. She had not been so sound asleep for the past hour as she had preferred to pretend. Kara sat up, her arms outstretched as if she were a child begging to be lifted up. Tory started toward her. She then turned and ran forward with a cry of relief. Had Fate allowed her to choose her own and Kara's rescuers she would have selected the two figures now appearing at the brow of the east side of the hill. They wore the uniforms of Boy Scouts and were the brothers of one of the girls in her own Patrol. They were also her own intimate friends. "Don, Lance!" Tory exclaimed, a little breathless and incoherent. "How in the world did you find this impossible place? Kara and I have been fearing we might have to stay here always!" Don held out his hand and caught Tory's, giving it a reassuring pressure. He was a big, blue-eyed fellow with fair hair and a splendid physique. In contrast Victoria Drew appeared small and fragile and incapable. Lance McClain was entirely unlike his brother in appearance. He was dark and small. He went directly to the girl who seemed most to require his help. As she struggled to rise at his approach and was not able, Lance knelt down on the grass beside her, while Kara explained what had occurred. Never, Tory Drew decided, would she forget the aspect of their own camp in Beechwood Forest, when an hour or more later she, in the lead, caught the first glimpse of it. It was as if one had struggled through one of the circles of Purgatory to reach Paradise at last. Actually a few lines from Dante that her father had recited many times returned to Tory's memory: "My senses down, when the true path I left; But when a mountain foot I reached, where closed The valley that had pierced my heart with dread, I looked aloft and saw his shoulders broad Already vested with that planet's beam, Who leads all wanderers safe through every way." The way had been difficult with Kara helpless. With their arms forming a kind of basket chair and Kara's arms about their necks, Donald and Lance had moved slowly down the hillside. Once Tory became aware that Lance looked almost as ill and exhausted as Kara herself. Don's color continued as ruddy, his eyes as blue and serene and his expression as steadfast as the moment when they had set out on the descent of the hill. To call attention to the fact that Lance was less able to endure the fatigue, Tory knew from past experience would anger him. Curious that no one in their own camp appeared to have been alarmed by their night's absence! The morning bugle must have sounded more than an hour before. The early drill was over. By the open fire Tory now beheld Dorothy McClain and Louise Miller preparing breakfast. Placing her hands to her lips she uttered their Scout signal call. CHAPTER II LOOKING BACKWARD A few minutes later Donald and Lance McClain were standing in the open space before the Girl Scout camp. They were facing a number of the girls and their Scout Captain, Sheila Mason, as well. Slightly in the background and yet within hearing, Victoria Drew waited. Kara was lying on the cot inside her own tent. Tory's friends had suggested that she follow Kara's example and allow breakfast to be brought to her. Surely she looked weary enough after a night of such anxiety! Tory had her own reasons for declining. Now as she overheard the beginning of the conversation she was glad of her own decision. "We are sorry to have intruded upon you even for a short time, Miss Mason," Donald McClain protested. "We know that you have asked that no member of our Scout camp come within your boundaries this summer. Of course you appreciate that the present circumstances left Lance and me no choice. Last night Lance insisted that he saw the light from a fire on one of the hills which he believed was a signal for help. The rest of us talked him out of the idea. The fire was plain enough, but we were under the impression that some one was spending the night on the hill-top and had kindled the fire either for cooking or companionship. Lance is an obstinate chap and was not altogether convinced. He arose at dawn and discovered the two smoke columns. He wakened no one but me. We set out and were lucky enough to find Tory and Kara without much trouble. We must say good-by to you at once. The other fellows will not know what has become of us, as we can't reach our own camp for another two hours." Impulsively Tory Drew made a little forward movement. She then observed Lance's eyes fastened upon her with the half-humorous, half-quizzical expression she frequently found annoying. What was there in the present moment to amuse him, save her own intention to come immediately to Donald's defense? He so rarely made a speech to any stranger so long as this one to the Girl Scout Troop Captain. When the four of them were together, she and Dorothy McClain, Lance and Don, Lance often accused her of talking for Don. At this instant, however, Sheila Mason extended her hand toward Donald with a friendly gesture. "We have been anxious for the opportunity to explain to you and Lance that in asking the Boy Scouts not to pay visits to our camp this summer, we did not intend to include you. We have talked of this to your sister, but Dorothy has had no opportunity, she tells me, to speak of it to you. We realize you could not have taken part in the rude behavior of the other boys the night following our making camp here at the border of the forest." Sheila Mason, the Troop Captain of the Girl Scouts of the Eagle's Wing, was only about ten years older than the youngest member of her Troop. In the early morning sunlight she looked charming in her brown khaki skirt and white blouse. Her long, light hair was braided close about her small head, her fair skin tanned by the outdoor life of the past few weeks, and color brighter than at any time in her life. It was now midsummer, with days of unusual heat and nights of enchanting coolness. There was no trace of severity in the Troop Captain's manner or appearance, but Donald McClain flushed uncomfortably and closed his lips into the obstinate lines Tory so well recognized. She wished Dorothy for a moment would be less faithful to her task of preparing breakfast. Mingling with the other outdoor fragrances, the odor of the coffee gave Tory a sensation of momentary faintness from sheer hunger. Don had squared his shoulders. Not sixteen, he was nearly six feet in height and splendidly built. "You are mistaken, Miss Mason. I was with the other Boy Scouts the night we came over to your camp. We meant to frighten you a little and to find out a few of the mistakes you were pretty sure to make on your first camping venture, nothing worse! We had no idea you'd take a little teasing so seriously. Some of us may not have behaved as well as we should, but nothing for the girls to have made a tragedy over." Donald was not intending to offend the Girl Scout Captain more deeply, but tact was not his strong point. Why did Lance fail to come to his brother's rescue? Tory flashed an indignant glance at him. He possessed, when he wished, the gift of expression his brother lacked. Lance's occasional moods of silence were due either to disappointment or anger. Arriving a stranger in Westhaven the winter before, among Victoria Drew's first acquaintances were Dorothy McClain and her six brothers. Their father was the leading physician in Westhaven and an old friend of her aunt and uncle. They were neighbors as well. In the beginning Tory had believed she preferred Lance to any of the other boys. He was Dorothy's favorite among her brothers, a delicate, musical chap, partly admired and partly scorned by the five who were stronger and more matter of fact. Lance's passion for music, of which he knew but little, his desire to be left alone, his failure in most athletic sports, the rest of his family found annoying and amusing. Lance McClain alone was like his mother who had died some years before, the others like Dr. McClain. "Lance, why in the world don't you help Don out? You know he will only make things worse if left to himself." Tory whispered at this moment. "Want to save Don at my expense? All right, Tory," he answered quizzically in the voice and manner Tory never really understood. Lance moved forward and now stood close beside Miss Mason. His golden-brown eyes and his sensitive mouth relieved his face from plainness, although he was considered the least good looking member of his family. At present he was smiling in a charming fashion. "See here, Miss Mason," he began speaking slowly, "I don't suppose you can imagine what a difficult thing it is to have a brother who is always putting you in the wrong? Oh, not intentionally, but by everlastingly doing the right thing and then trying to take the blame for your mistakes! "Don did not want us to come to your camp and make a scene. He is our Patrol leader and we should have done what he advised. Only we wouldn't and didn't! He came along at last more to keep the rest of us out of mischief than because he wanted to be in it." Lance drew his brows together so they became a fine line. "Wonder if I've got to make a clean breast of the whole business? Don is everlastingly forcing me to play up to him when I would not otherwise. The suggestion that we hike over to the girls' camp and see what was going on originated with me. Don and I had been telling Dorothy you would never get things in shape over here without help from us, or men in the village. Your Girl Scout Troop has been claiming that you could accomplish all the things we do and a few other things beside. We did not believe you and wished to see for ourselves. I was sorry and mad as Don when some of the fellows went too far. We had a call-down from our Captain and have been looking for a chance to apologize. Do try and forget it, won't you? If your Girl Scouts will swoop down on us unexpectedly and be double the nuisance that we were, we are willing to call it square." Sheila Mason laughed. Margaret Hale, the Patrol leader and one of Victoria Drew's intimate friends, who had joined the group during Lance's speech, shook her head. She was a tall, serious looking girl with clear-cut features and a graceful manner. "Lance, I don't believe a Boy Scout Troop is supposed to employ a lawyer. You strike me as a special pleader. You had better go in for the law instead of music. We are not so cranky that we would have objected to an ordinary descent upon us, even with the idea of showing us what inferior creatures we are. But when it comes to trying to frighten us, and some of the more timid girls were frightened, you behaved as if you were wild Indians." Lance held up a white handkerchief. "This is a token of complete surrender. We ask the courtesy due the defeated, Miss Mason. Please don't allow Margaret to rake up the past. Don and I must be off now to camp. Sorry you won't give us a message of forgiveness to carry back. May we speak to Dorothy? Evidently she is more interested in her breakfast than in her brothers." "Nonsense, Lance, you and Don must have breakfast with us before you leave," Miss Mason answered. "I cannot bury the hatchet, Indian fashion, because the Girl Scouts must decide themselves whether or not you are forgiven." Approaching in their direction at this moment, her face flushed and holding a long toasting fork in one hand, was Dorothy McClain. She was only a year and a few months younger than her two brothers and looked very like Don, save that her hair was chestnut and her eyes a darker blue. "Don, Lance, how glad I am you had the good luck to come to Tory's and Kara's aid! I have made a double amount of toast and there are six more eggs added to our usual supply for breakfast. I thought you would appreciate this sisterly attention more than rushing to greet you at once. I saw you were not lonely." "Good to see you, Dot. You are looking in great shape, only we must be off at once," Donald answered, still appearing uncomfortable and obstinate. Between Dorothy and Tory Drew a signal was flashed of which no one of the small group save Lance McClain was aware. "Please stay, Don," Tory begged, moving forward and standing beside him. She scarcely came up to his shoulder. "Edith Linder has gone to Miss Frean's cottage to ask her to come to Kara at once. She is to try to telephone for your father. If not, one of us must ride in to town for him. But perhaps he might want you to be here when he arrives in case there is anything to be done, if Kara has to be lifted. Oh, I don't know anything, except that I am dreadfully worried over her." Don softened. "Oh, of course if there is any chance Lance or I can be of further use we'll be glad to stay. You ought to go to bed, Tory, and not wait for father." Tory shook her head. Her face was whiter than usual from anxiety and fatigue, yet Donald McClain liked her appearance. His brothers and other people might insist there were several girls in the Girl Scout Troop of the Eagle's Wing far prettier than Victoria Drew--Teresa Peterson, with her half Italian beauty, his own sister, Dorothy, Joan Peters, with her regular features and patrician air. Don knew that Tory possessed a charm and vividness, a quickness of thought and a grace of movement more attractive to him than ordinary beauty. Forgetting their companions, they walked off together, leaving the others to follow. "If you only knew how I have been longing to show you our camp in Beechwood Forest, Don! Please say you think it is wonderful," Tory pleaded. CHAPTER III THEIR CAMP They were seated along the edge of the lake, six girls and their two visitors. The water was a still, dim blue reflection of the sky with one deep shadow from the hill of pines. Away from the hill and the lake stood the forest of beechwood trees. In an open space on a little rise of ground half within, half without the forest, lay the summer camp of the Girl Scouts of the Eagle's Wing. A little brown house built of logs was almost entirely covered with vines, a tangle of woodbine and honeysuckle and wistaria. Only from the windows and the door had the vines been cut away. The house looked extremely ancient, older than the slender beeches that formed a semicircle to the rear and left. Beyond the door, thick with deep green shade on this midsummer morning, towered a single giant beech which appeared to have moved out a few yards from its forest shelter to act as a sentinel for the log cabin. The cabin had been erected so many years before that no one in the vicinity remembered its origin. Finding the location an ideal one for their camp, the little house had been restored, the chimney to the single fireplace made over, the glass added to the window frames, open spaces between the logs replastered. The log house formed the center of the camp. On each side at irregular distances were three tents, one row advancing from the forest, the other receding into it. To-day there was an unusual stillness about the camp itself at an hour of the morning ordinarily a busy and active one. Now and then some one appeared, hastily accomplished whatever the task and vanished. Even the little group on the shore of the lake continued unusually quiet. When any one did speak it was with a lowered voice. Five of the six girls were occupied. Only Tory Drew's hands were idle. They moved frequently with unconscious gestures characteristic of her temperament and the fact that she had lived a number of years in the Latin countries where the hands are used to communicate one's meaning as well as speech. She made a sweeping movement of her hand at this instant, appearing to include the lake, forest, hillside and the small group of tents about the evergreen cabin. "You have not yet said, Don, that you consider our camp superior to yours, when I am perfectly convinced that it is, without having laid eyes on yours. Lance has given me the impression that he agrees with me. He has not exactly said so in any words I can recall, but he can be tactful when he likes. You are always so tiresomely silent, Don, whether you think a thing true or not true. I always know when you are most silent your opinion is the strongest one way or the other." Don was silent. Yet he knew the group of girls were awaiting his reply with almost as great interest as Tory. Finally he smiled in a handsome, good-humored fashion. "Don't see why you should object to my not talking a great deal, Tory, when it gives you and Dorothy and Lance more opportunity." He turned around, however, studying the little camp in the shadow of the old forest with careful scrutiny. Donald McClain did not think quickly nor could he express his point of view until he had given a subject serious consideration. "I don't see any comparison between your Girl Scout camp and our own, Tory," he returned at length. "The two camps are not in the least alike. In the first place, you tell me that you have only fourteen Girl Scouts and we have nearly forty boys. Of course things look neater and more picturesque here, with girls one expects this. Our problem is different. I have an idea we have more discipline and do more hard work." Tory Drew looked annoyed. Dorothy McClain took up the defense. "I am not so sure of the work and the discipline, Don. We do everything at our camp, the cooking, washing and cleaning. We have been pretending that we were members of Penelope's household. If you have never read the 'Odyssey' you won't know what I am talking about. Joan Peters we sometimes call Penelope. She is everlastingly at her weaving, but does not unravel her web at night that she has woven in the daytime. She is not troubled by Penelope's importunate suitors. Tory at present is the Princess Nausicaa, the daughter of the King Alcinous, who conducts the family washing as a part of her work. I won't bore you with all our distinguished titles. "As for discipline! I don't mean to be rude and I am glad you did not wish your Troop of Scouts to descend upon us like a band of Indians on a group of pioneer women. Still, I would scarcely be proud of such discipline." "See here, Dorothy, what is the use? You know you are reflecting upon me, not upon old Don. But with my well-known amiability I forgive you. Whose idea was it that you pretend to be Greek heroines as well as American Girl Scouts?" Lance inquired in the tone that nearly always brought peace. "Oh, we have not gone into the idea seriously," Joan Peters returned. Her head was bent over the square frame she held in her lap, her fingers busy with the strands of flax. "Miss Frean comes to camp every few evenings and reads aloud to us. She insists that we are too frivolous in our own summer reading and wishes to read us something we ought to remember." Joan Peters liked Lance McClain. She was a great reader and perhaps because of his more delicate health Lance did not feel the same scorn of books that Donald affected. With a swift movement Tory arose suddenly. Apparently she forgot the group of friends close about her. She clasped her hands tightly together, her eyes suddenly looked larger and darker, her lips twitched. The Girl Scouts of the Eagle's Wing had chosen silver and gold as their camp colors. Near the spot where Tory was standing lay two canoes. One was golden in color with an eagle's wing in silver on the bow, the other the opposite color scheme. Tory's own khaki costume looked golden in the sunlight. The water was now silver. Don had a fleeting impression that Tory intended to jump into one of the canoes and disappear from sight. Now and then she affected him curiously. He never knew what she intended to do or say. She thought so quickly, moved so swiftly, and he was stupid and slow. At the present moment he was puzzled and troubled by her sudden look of intense unhappiness. The instant before she had been arguing the respective merits of the two camps and had appeared cheerful as usual. "What is the matter, Tory? You are the most startling person! You upset one," Teresa Peterson protested. She glanced toward Donald and then toward Lance McClain for their attention or approval. Teresa was unlike the other Girl Scouts. She was extremely pretty with dusky hair that curled about a low forehead and soft rose colored cheeks. She gave one an impression of sweetness and yet one could not be sure of her actual character. She seemed always anxious for attention and the approval of other people. Several of the girls in her Patrol felt that Teresa was unnecessarily self-conscious before a masculine audience. At this instant Tory Drew returned her glance. Her face showed bewilderment. "Why, Teresa, how can you ask what is troubling me? Is one of us thinking any other thought? Of course we have had to talk of other things, but nothing matters except what Dr. McClain may at this moment be deciding about Kara. You know we all care for her more than any other girl at camp. She has had so much more to contend with than the rest of us even before this. "She thought first of our camp in Beechwood Forest and we used to talk of it when it did not seem a possibility. The day of her accident Kara told me the past few weeks had been the happiest of her life." Tory walked away from the others. "I have been trying to keep my word and stay here with you until after Dr. McClain had seen Kara. Now I cannot wait any longer. I am sure something more dreadful than any of us realize has happened." Margaret Hale rose and slipped her arm inside the other girl's. "We will go back together. You are more nervous over Kara than need be because of the strain of last night." They moved on a few yards. Coming out of the cabin they could see Dr. McClain, Miss Frean and Sheila Mason. Dr. McClain, assisted by the two women, was bearing Kara in his arms. Before Margaret and Tory reached them, he had placed Kara in his motor car and they were driving away. CHAPTER IV RIGHT ABOUT, FACE Tory toiled up the long, hot street, her arms filled with packages, her face flushed. How different the atmosphere from the cool green shade of Beechwood Forest! At the end of the street upon a rise of ground stood the Old Gray House. This had been Katherine Moore's name for the house, accepted and used by the town of Westhaven. To-day it appeared what it actually was: the village orphan asylum. No longer could Kara's optimism conceal reality from Victoria Drew. The house showed blistered and bare of paint. The open space of yard, green and fresh in the springtime, when she and Kara oftentimes sat outdoors to dream and plan, was now baked brown and sere. The children playing in the yard behind the tall iron fence looked tired and cross, a little like prisoners to Tory's present state of mind. She had come in from camp early in the day and had spent several hours at home with her uncle, Mr. Richard Fenton. Their own house was empty save for his presence. Miss Victoria had gone for a month's holiday to the sea. After a talk with her uncle and an hour's shopping, she was now on her way to call upon Kara. She saw a mental picture of Kara's small room on the top floor of the Gray House. How proud Kara had been because she need share her room with no one! And what a place to be shut up in when one was ill! For Kara's sake Tory had endeavored to view this room with Kara's eyes. Kara loved it and the old Gray House that had sheltered her since babyhood, her refuge when apparently deserted by the parents she had never known. Victoria Drew was an artist. This did not mean that necessarily she was possessed of an artist's talent, but of the artist's temperament. Besides, had she not lived with her artist father wandering about the most beautiful countries in Europe[A] until her arrival in Westhaven the winter before? If this temperament oftentimes allowed Tory to color humdrumness with rose, it also gave her a sensitive distaste to what other people might not feel so intensely. With half a dozen of the children in the yard of the Gray House, Tory now stopped to talk a few moments. Never before could she recall wanting to see Kara so much and so little at the same time. Of the two children who had been Kara's special charges and her own favorites, only the boy remained. His eyes bluer and more wistful than formerly, Billy Duncan came forward to speak to Tory. He seemed older and thinner and less the cherub she remembered. The children who were his playmates could have told her that Billy had altered since the departure of his adored companion, Lucy Martin, the little girl who had been adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Jeremy Hammond a few months before. Lucy Martin had been an odd little girl, full of fire and passion and wilfulness. Blindly and adoringly Billy had followed her until her departure from the Gray House. Afterwards he never spoke of her or asked for her, although at first she often demanded his presence and came to the Gray House to see him. Of late, however, Lucy had ceased to appear. "Do you miss Lucy?" Tory inquired at this instant and was sorry for her own stupidity. Billy merely shook his head. He always had been a dull little boy. One had been fond of him because of his sweetness and placidity, not for any brilliance. Slipping a gift inside Billy's pockets, Tory ran on up to the Gray House, comforting herself with the idea that the little boy was incapable of feeling anything deeply. The fact that Lucy had lost her affection for Kara, who had been like a devoted older sister, was more serious. The door stood open so that Tory entered the wide hall of the old house without ringing the bell. She had come often enough during the past winter and spring to be a privileged character. At the bottom of the long flight of stairs she paused a moment. Warm and out of breath, she did not wish Kara to guess at her rebellious mood when she arrived at the little room up under the eaves. "You won't find Kara upstairs in her old room. Let me show you where she is," a voice called, as Tory placed her foot on the first stair. The big room had been a back parlor in the days when the Gray House had been the residence of a prosperous farmer. This was before the village of Westhaven had drawn so close to it. By the window in a wheeled chair sat a small figure crouched so low that had she not known it could be no one else, Tory would scarcely have recognized her. Since her night and Kara's together on the hillside only a week had gone by. Could one week have altered Kara's appearance and her nature? Her impulse to go toward the figure and gather her in her arms, Tory carefully repressed. Kara's expression, as she raised her eyes at her approach, was almost forbidding. Tory also repressed the exclamation that rose to her lips. How white and thin the other girl's face appeared! The humorous, gayly challenging look with which she had met former trials and difficulties had vanished. The lines of Kara's mouth were tired and old, the gray eyes with the long dark lashes, her one claim to beauty, were dark and rebellious. "You have taken your own time to come to see me, Tory. I have been here at the orphan asylum nearly a week and this is the first time you or any member of my Girl Scout Patrol has honored me with a call. I can't say I altogether blame you. It certainly is pleasanter at our camp in Beechwood Forest than in this place!" Tory's arms went around Kara's shoulders, her bright red lips touched the other girl's brown hair. "You know I have wanted to come to you every minute in the twenty-four hours, dear, and every member of your Patrol has wanted to come as well, besides Miss Mason and Miss Frean and all the rest. To-day I am regarded as the most privileged person in the camp because I am first to see you. Dr. McClain only consented last night to allow me to come. I am to bring you everybody's love and to demand that you stay away from camp only the shortest time. Otherwise we intend to call on Dr. McClain in a body and assert our authority as Girl Scouts to bring you home to Beechwood Forest. Anyone save a doctor would know you would sooner grow strong again there than here." As she talked, partly as a relief from nervousness and to hide her consternation over Kara's changed appearance, Tory was moving about the room arranging her gifts. In a vase filled with water from a pitcher standing on a table she placed a bouquet of faded wild flowers. The room became fragrant with the scent of wild hyacinths, ragged robins, cornflowers and daisies. By a low bowl piled with peaches and grapes, she put two magazines and a new book. "Uncle Richard sent you the things to read, Kara. I should like to have brought more, but could not manage to carry them." Still Kara made no reply. She scarcely had glanced at the offerings. "Sorry the flowers are so faded. I think they will look better after a time. I had not the cruelty to decline to bring them, as Edith Linder and Teresa Peterson rose up this morning and gathered them in the dew to send you. I have brought our camp log for the past week." Conscious of the wall between herself and her companion, Tory was aware that she was talking of trivialities until the moment when Kara would admit her inside her closed citadel. How long before she would speak a second time? Walking over toward Kara, Tory took a low seat beside the wheeled chair. With a swift gesture of affection she placed a square book on Kara's lap. The book was of heavy paper, golden in color back and front and with silver-gray leaves inside. On the outside cover was a painting of an eagle's wing. "This is the first time we have ever had a written history of our week at camp, Kara dear. But we decided the other night at our Troop meeting to arrange this to bring to you. So whatever we dropped into the big box in front of Miss Mason's tent we put inside this book. I have made some sketches and Joan Peters has written a poem dedicated to you. Please look for yourself, won't you?" Kara turned away her eyes. Still Tory had no sensation of anger, only a kind of nervous fear. More than any one who ever knew her could have imagined here was a different Kara! She now pushed aside the little magazine with a gesture of annoyance. "I don't want to know what you have been doing at camp, Tory. I never want to hear any mention of our Girl Scouts again. You must erase my name from our Patrol list and find some one else to fill my place." A valiant effort, Tory's to smile, when in the other girl's voice and manner there was so much to make smiling difficult. "When that day arrives, Kara, I presume I also shall wish to resign from the Girl Scouts. It is hard to imagine when we both care so deeply. Has anyone or anything offended you? Do you feel I am responsible for your accident? If you realized how many times during the past week I have wondered if this were true. I did ask Miss Mason for permission to allow us to go for the day alone. I told her that I could sketch so much better without any companion save you. She reproaches herself now as much as I do and says as our Troop Captain the mistake was hers. But we promised not to go far from camp and were accustomed to the neighborhood." "Don't be stupid, Tory. I have not forgotten that I first suggested the plan to you. We wanted a day to ourselves." Kara had spoken. At least this much had been accomplished, although her tone remained hard and uninterested. Suddenly her head went down until her face was hidden. "Don't you know, Tory, darling? Has no one told you or the other Girl Scouts of our Troop? Dr. McClain promised me that he would tell you. I can't come back to our camp in Beechwood Forest, I cannot be a Girl Scout. I may never be able to walk again. No, I do not suffer, I never have suffered, that is the dreadful part of it." Kara's hands now clutched the other girl's shoulders. "Tory, don't look at me like that. It may not be true always." ----- [A] See "Girl Scouts of the Eagle's Wing." CHAPTER V A DISCUSSION "The land that is always afternoon," Joan Peters quoted dreamily. Twelve girls were seated in a circle in a clearing in Beechwood Forest. Save for the fact that fallen logs formed their resting place here was a modern American "Agora of Mycanae," the well polished circle of stones, where the earliest of civilized peoples sat for council and judgment. The afternoon sunlight slanted through the deep polished green of the trees. A few moments before, the other girls had been earnestly talking, then had ensued a thoughtful silence and Jean's irrelevant speech. "I never have understood exactly what that expression means, but it always has had a fascination for me," she continued. "Please don't think I am forgetting what we have been discussing this last hour. To my mind there can be no two ways of looking at it. The only problem we have is Kara. And, thank goodness, we do not have to decide what is wisest and best for her." Seated beside Joan, Tory Drew remained oddly still. Quiet either of body or mind was an unusual phase with her. Life and movement were her natural characteristics, more marked than with most girls. "I wish I could think as Joan does, that the decision does not rest with us and we _must_ be content," she added finally. "I feel as if I _knew_ it was the only thing for Kara to come back to us and as if no one and nothing could induce me to think otherwise." "Not a very sensible point of view, Victoria," a voice answered. In the tone there was a different enunciation. In the voice there was a different emphasis from the other Girl Scouts. Besides, no one of them ever spoke to Tory without using her abbreviated title. The girl who had made the remark was different in manner, appearance and costume from the rest of the group, although not conspicuously so. Martha Greaves was an English girl who had crossed the ocean early in the summer with Tory Drew's father and step-mother to spend the summer in Westhaven. She was singularly tall with light brown hair and gray-blue eyes. After she had spoken she appeared a little embarrassed as if she regretted having called the attention of the other girls to her presence. At the beginning of their acquaintance Martha and Tory had felt drawn toward each other. The differences in their temperaments appeared not as a barrier, but an interest. But with the opening of the camp in Beechwood Forest, Tory had neglected her responsibilities. Her affection for Katherine Moore had made her less mindful than she should have been of a stranger in a new environment. Fortunately Martha Greaves was an English Girl Guide. She was wearing the uniform of the Guides at this moment. Shy she might appear upon suddenly expressing her opinion, yet assuredly she had made a number of friends among the Girl Scouts. Moreover, she was too vitally interested in the differences between the two organizations, the Girl Guides of England and the Girl Scouts of the United States, to be especially self conscious. She understood and liked Tory's impulsive nature with its capacity for romantic affection, so unlike her own. She considered herself to be a matter-of-fact person with only a few enthusiasms. At Martha's sensible statement Tory had the sensation of being suddenly plunged into cold water. A moment she was nonplussed and slightly angry. Then she had the good sense to realize that Martha had not intended to be unkind. What she had said was undoubtedly true. If she were rarely sensible at any time, Tory appreciated that she had become less so since her last talk with Kara. Not an hour since had the problem of Kara been out of her mind. Indeed, since the news of the result of what had first seemed a simple accident had reached the camp of the Girl Scouts in Beechwood Forest, the entire summer to which they had looked forward so joyously seemed to offer only disappointment. They were only fourteen in number and Kara was individually dear to each one of them. Seven of the group were in Kara's own Patrol, the others, members of her Troop of the Eagle's Wing. If they suffered some disadvantages over the larger summer camps for girls they had the advantage of a peculiar and intimate feeling for one another. The fact that Martha Greaves was the one outsider added a special interest. Rarely a half day passed that one of the Girl Scouts did not make some inquiry of Martha concerning their respective organizations. She was glad enough to answer and they were learning from each other. The Girl Scouts of the Eagle's Wing had worked at their scouting during the past winter with pleasure and faith, but occasional meetings could not bring the results these past few magical weeks at camp had accomplished. All day long they were outdoors, at night the tent flaps were oftentimes left open for a better view of the sky and the feel of the wind. All their own work had they undertaken and life had never appeared more practical, simple and delightful. Then like a cloud darkening the serenity of their summer had come the news of Katherine Moore's accident with its unexpected, tragic result. Tory Drew sighed. "You are probably right, Martha. I have been told often enough by Aunt Victoria and sometimes by Kara herself that I have too great an opinion of my own judgment, when in reality my judgment isn't very good. "Yet this time I simply can't feel that I am mistaken. Kara will be happier here at camp with us than at the Gray House or in a sanitarium. We all understand her and will do anything in the world to make her happier. Dr. McClain says that Kara's state of mind worries him a great deal. Yet how can it be different? Surely we can make her physically comfortable in the evergreen house and all of us will wish to wait on her. I--" Tory hesitated and could not go on. "I agree with you entirely, Tory," Margaret Hale answered sympathetically. Tory's Patrol leader, a dignified girl of gentle breeding, she was not the most gifted member of the Patrol, yet possessed the greatest personal influence. One could always trust to Margaret's sense of justice. She was never prejudiced and never unfair. "I feel as Tory does. If there is nothing the doctors can do for Kara at present, save to watch her carefully, she had far better be here with us. I know they will do everything that is possible at the Gray House; I know too that Mr. Fenton has offered to pay Kara's expenses should the doctors decide she had best go to a sanitarium. Yet will either of these places alter Kara's state of mind? "Since Tory told us of her talk with Kara I have scarcely been able to think of anything else. Kara, with her optimism and humor vanished; Kara, hard and bitter and wretched! It seems so incredible! Why, she has always faced her difficult existence with such courage. When one thinks of Kara it is to recall the humorous expression of her eyes, the laughter that always was waiting its chance. No one ever had so gay a laugh as Kara!" Unconscious of what she was doing, at this instant Tory jumped up. Leaving her seat she stood alone in the center of the circle looking toward the other girls. The first rays of the sunset slanted through the trees, turning the green to gold. One ray fell directly upon Tory Drew, her bright, red-gold hair, her thin, eager face and graceful figure. About her the other girls were more in darkness. There was almost a mystic quality in the late afternoon atmosphere, here in the heart of an ancient woods, with no one near save the circle of Girl Scouts. "Margaret has suggested just what I want to make clear to all of you. The old Kara for the time being seems to have disappeared. And perhaps for the reasons Margaret has mentioned. "Kara has had too much to bear. She has always made the best of the fact that she had no parents, no family! Cleverer and sweeter than anyone, she was found in a deserted house with no explanation as to why she had been left there. "Kara found happiness in the life at the Gray House because everybody cared for her at the asylum and in the village. But she was always thinking that the day was coming when she would be able to earn her own living at some congenial work. "Now, Kara told me the other day that this hope has been taken from her and she sees nothing left. I am frightened about her. The doctors tell her she may walk again some day, but not for a long time. She insists this is only to encourage her. If we, her own Troop of Girl Scouts, can do nothing for her, I don't see who can." Louise Miller, seated beside her most intimate friend, Dorothy McClain, uttered an unexpected exclamation. Under ordinary circumstances she talked less than any one of her companions. Usually it was conceded that Louise alone among all of them thought of what she was going to say before making a remark. She was not good looking. Her features were heavy and she had grown too rapidly. She had peculiar light gray eyes under thick dark brows which held a kind of fascination. Yet Louise's only real claim to beauty was a mass of coppery, red-brown hair. She was not happy or congenial with her own family. They were poor and her mother, a pretty woman, resented Louise's lack of beauty as well as their poverty. On Louise's part there was no effort to conceal the fact that she had been happier these past weeks at their Girl Scout camp in Beechwood Forest than at any time since she could remember. "There is something to be considered in this situation beside Kara," she began, with a kind of awkward earnestness. The statement had not a happy sound, but the other girls waited, knowing that Louise had an odd fashion of expressing herself. One could not at first be altogether sure of her meaning. "We must remember that it is not for Kara's sake only that we are to keep her here, if Dr. McClain agrees it will be wise, but for our own sakes as well. While Tory has been talking I have been wondering if we were equal, as Girl Scouts, to the test. "You look surprised, Tory, as if there could be no question save the joy of having Kara to take care of and her pleasure in being with us. There will be other sides to it. Some one of us will always have to stay with Kara day and night. She must never be left alone for any length of time, when we may be wanting to go off together on a hike or a swimming party. It may be hard now and then to be left out. We must not expect Kara always to be cheerful and patient." Louise had been looking toward Tory Drew. She now turned her head and her glance traveled from one face to the other. The group of girls, except for a few additional ones, was the same that had gathered in the old Fenton home in Westhaven on a momentous evening the winter before. On that evening they had formed the first Patrol of the Girl Scouts of the Eagle's Wing Troop. Margaret Hale remained the Patrol Leader and Dorothy McClain her Corporal. The other girls were Victoria Drew, Joan Peters, Louise Miller, Teresa Peterson and Katherine Moore. Edith Linder had been asked later to become the eighth member and so complete the favored number. To-day, amid the outdoor council in the woods, there were four girls from a second Patrol in the same Girl Scout Troop. "Honor, loyalty, duty, a sister to every other Girl Scout, courtesy, cheerfulness. These are some of our Scout principles. I wonder if bringing Katherine Moore here as an invalid to be cared for by us would not put our Scout principles into a crucible?" one of the four remarked unexpectedly. Tory Drew frowned upon her, and then realizing the truth of what she had said, her expression changed and she nodded agreement. Why should she expect that all the other girls must appreciate as she did the degree of Kara's misfortune and the necessity to do something to make her lot easier without delay. The girl she was looking down upon always had amused Kara and herself. She was so unlike any of them. Her light hair was almost as short as a boy's and was boyish in appearance, save that it curled in an almost babyish fashion. Her eyes were wide open and a light china blue. Here her doll-like attributes ended. She had a short, determined nose, a square chin, and a large mouth filled with small, even teeth. She had an odd, boyish name as well, Evan Phillips. No one knew a great deal about her. She had come with her mother to live in Westhaven the winter before in order to go to school. She had spoken of living in California before that time. A member of a Girl Scout Patrol in the west, she had asked to be admitted into the Eagle's Wing Troop in Westhaven. The three other members of the second Patrol were Julia and Frances Murray and Ann Fletcher. "What is a crucible, Evan?" Tory inquired. "I don't care in the least how many of our Scout principles are cast into it, if only Kara is here at camp with us. I know what Louise means, but no one need be troubled. If Kara will permit it, I shall wish to be with her always." "You will not be allowed, Tory. Remember, Kara is our friend as well as yours, and we have known her longer," Dorothy McClain and the other girls protested, almost in the same words and at the same instant. "Suppose you do not argue any more for the present," a quiet voice interrupted, the same voice that so often gave Tory the sensation that she had been quietly and politely restrained from too great intensity. "I am sure I hear some one coming, three people in fact." It was slightly annoying to the American Girl Scouts that in many ways their English guest had a better outdoor training than any one of them. However, this was not her first camping experience. A moment or so later Dr. McClain appeared at an opening between two of the trees in the encircling grove. He was accompanied by Sheila Mason and Miss Frean. The two women remained outside. Alone Dr. McClain entered the charmed circle. At once a dozen girls were crowding about him. A quarter of an hour after Tory Drew and Dorothy McClain were walking with him toward the road that led back into Westhaven. "We will have the little evergreen house made comfortable for Kara. Miss Mason and all of us have decided she will be safer and easier to care for there than in one of the tents. You are sure it will be best for her? She must become stronger and in better spirits being with us," Dorothy McClain insisted, clinging to her father's arm as if she were unwilling to let him go. "I declare it is wonderful to have a Girl Scout doctor--father!" Dr. McClain made a sound half pleasure, half displeasure. "So this is what I have come to after more than a quarter of a century of hard work, a Girl Scout Doctor! Hope you girls may have no further need for me. Hard luck about little Kara. Things may turn out better for her later on. By the way, you and Tory do not know, and perhaps had best not mention it, but the very log cabin where you are planning to install Kara is the house where the child was found deserted years ago." "But gracious, Dr. McClain!" Tory argued, "I have always been told that Kara was found in a deserted _farmhouse_. Our evergreen cabin was never a farmhouse. Mr. Hammond once spoke of finding Kara when I was with them, and he was not aware that Kara was the child he had discovered. "Then Jeremy Hammond does not know a farmhouse when he sees one. The house was a deserted hut in those days where no one had lived for a great many years. That is why the mystery was the greater. A bridle path then led past the door and joined a road that was a short cut into Westhaven. The path is now overgrown with grass. "I remember very well, because I came out myself next day to see if Hammond, who was a young fellow, may have overlooked any method by which we might trace Kara's history. Save for the piece of paper pinned to the child's dress and bearing her name no other information was ever forthcoming. Good-by, here is my car waiting. I'll bring Kara out myself in a few days. Remember, this is only to be an experiment. If she is not happier and does not improve we must try something else. Much depends upon you. 'Be Prepared'." CHAPTER VI "THE CHOROS" In the open space a solitary figure was dancing. The enclosure was not the circular place where the Girl Scouts held their councils, but deeper in the woods, although not a great distance away. The space was larger. Instead of being surrounded by giant beech trees, a new grove of young beeches was here growing up to take the places of older trees that had died or been cut down. Their slender trunks were high and arched, their branches curved downward. They seemed to stoop, as young things that have grown too tall for their own strength. The green of their leaves was paler and more transparent. Underneath the trees the ground was covered with a finer, softer grass. The girl was dancing barefoot. She wore a thin white dress. On the ground not far away was the khaki costume which she must have discarded for the time being. Her hair was short and fair, and she had a square, determined, lightly freckled face. She was short and her figure not particularly graceful in repose. Watching her dancing one thought of neither of these things. The square head with the light fringe of curling hair was perfectly poised, the body showed strength and lightness. At this moment the girl was moving in a wide circle inside the fringe of young beeches. Her arms were extended above her head; at regular intervals she poised and stood upon her toes, then danced more rapidly. At length, with a little fluttering movement like a swallow about to alight, she dropped on the grass, her arms covering her head. From a short distance away came exclamations of pleasure. Stiffening with surprise, anger, and what might have been alarm, the small figure arose. Tory Drew, pushing a wheeled chair with a good deal of difficulty, slowly advanced. Seated in the chair was Katherine Moore. "Evan, I am sorry we have intruded upon you and stopped your dance. It did not occur to me until this moment that you did not hear us approaching. Kara was bored and I thought if I could manage we would come down here to our 'Choros.' Isn't it learned to have called our dancing ground by the name of the first dancing grounds ever discovered and built by Daedalus, the famous artificer of Crete? However, we are obliged to give Miss Frean the credit for most of our erudition. "We will go on again to the lake as soon as I have rested a little. May I say that it was wonderful to see you? I did not dream that any one of our Girl Scout Troop could dance as you do. I am sure Kara must have enjoyed watching you. So you will forgive my not having told you we were near." The girl in the wheeled chair lifted her head. "I wonder, Tory, why you think I enjoy seeing another person dance? Isn't it hard enough to sit everlastingly watching you walking, swimming, doing whatever you wish, while I am more helpless than a baby? Naturally it affords me _especial_ joy to behold another girl who can do all these other things and dance like a wood nymph besides!" In the young voice there was a note that made her companions stare helplessly toward her and then drop their eyes as if they were responsible and ashamed. "Kara, dear, it is my fault. Things always seem to be my fault, I am so stupid these days! I never realized that you would mind the dancing. I had forgotten how much you used to care for dancing. Besides, I did not suppose we would find any one here, and thought we could enjoy the cool and the quiet. "Good-by, Evan. You _are_ a wood nymph. Kara was right." Tory had placed her hands on the back of the wheeled chair and was about to move on, when again a querulous voice interrupted: "Oh, no, let us not go at once. You are always tiring yourself to death for me these days. Don't think I never overhear Miss Mason and the other girls speaking of it, Tory. One learns to hear more than one should in my position. I was not always an eavesdropper. Neither did I suppose you would have to be a martyr for my sake, Tory. I wish you would try not to be; a martyr is a noble character, but one does not wish one for a constant companion." Tory Drew made no reply. Instead she shoved the heavy chair into a cool, green shelter and dropped down on the ground beside it. The other girl followed, anxious to be useful and not knowing what she should do. A week had passed since Kara's return to her friends in their Girl Scout camp in Beechwood Forest. The Kara who had gone away after her accident and the Kara who had come back seemed two utterly different human beings. The courageous, gay, sweet-tempered girl was now rebellious, fretful, impatient. Indeed, she had become more difficult than any one who had known her previously could have imagined. The little group of Girl Scouts were being tested, and more than any one of them, Tory Drew. So far not once had she faltered. Knowing Tory six months before, one could scarcely have believed this possible. Always she had been sweet and charming, but self centered and spoiled. Now, was it her affection for Katherine Moore or the months of her Scout training that had given her a new spirit? "Suppose you tell us how you learned to dance in that beautiful fashion, Evan? Then, if Kara wishes, perhaps you will dance for us again?" The girl with the odd, boyish name gazed at Tory Drew reflectively. Since their arrival in camp she had conceived a deep admiration for Tory. She had never spoken of it to any human being. Tory possessed this charm, of which she was unconscious, which was to gain her friends all her life. Evan sat down on the ground nearby. She was a year younger than the other two girls. At this moment, in her shabby, simple white dress, she appeared a good deal younger. "Would you really like to know about my dancing? I have been wanting to tell some one. It would be absurd to pretend I had not been taught, no one with any judgment would believe me. Besides, when one is a Girl Scout I do not think one desires to keep secrets from the other girls. Perhaps you won't approve of me afterwards, but I shall run that risk." Tory laughed. "You are a dear! I approve of nearly every one. What could there be to object to in your wonderful dancing? Don't you know every girl who sees you must envy you." A little fearfully Tory glanced upward toward Kara. Had she been tactless again? Everything she said or did appeared the wrong thing these days. At present apparently Kara was not looking or listening to either of them. Her gray eyes, which showed so wistfully in her thin face, were fixed on a far-off line of the sky between two clumps of trees. "Well, you might as well hear the worst at the start," Evan went on, smiling and revealing her small, even teeth. "In the first place, I received my ridiculous name because my father died a short time after I was born. It was intended I should be a boy, so I was named for him. We were poor and mother had to make her own living and mine. She did not feel troubled over this because she had studied dancing and loved it. So she gave dancing lessons in California, and before I was two years old I was a member of her class. We never would have stopped save that mother was ill and we were forced to come east to consult a doctor. We came to Westhaven to live so she could be near New York and I at school. Mother is better, and next winter intends to begin teaching again." "So you wish to be a dancing teacher?" Katherine Moore asked. The other girls were under the impression that she had not heard what they were saying. Evan jumped up quickly. "Never, I should hate it! I mean to study folk dancing and some day originate new dances that shall be as American as possible. We talk of the folk dancing of the Irish and Spanish, and the Austrians and the Dutch and any number of other nations. When we speak of American folk dancing it is supposed we dance like the Indians. I don't see why we can't create a national folk dance of our own." Evan made a cup of her hands and dropped her chin into it. "Please don't laugh; I think an American folk dance might be like these young beech trees. I know that sounds absurd. What I mean is, the dance should show youth and freshness and grace, beautiful things like a primeval American forest. Oh, I don't suppose you understand me. I am sure I don't quite understand myself! "Since I have been at camp Miss Mason has allowed me to come here an hour each morning to practice. May I show you the dance I have been trying to compose. I don't mind if you laugh at the dance or at me, I do it so badly. I shall learn some day. I like to call it 'The Dance of the Young Beeches'." Without waiting for Kara's or Tory's agreement, Evan was up and away. Slowly she again circled around the beautiful dancing ground, her arms and body waving with gentle, fanciful undulations. Now and then she seemed to be swept by light winds; again a storm pressed upon her and she bowed and swayed as if resisting with all her strength. Afterwards, wishing to suggest that the storm had passed and the sun was shining and the birds singing, she tiptoed about, her arms gently undulating, her face looking upward. The dancing was crude and yet would have been attractive to eyes more accustomed to trained dancing than Tory's or Kara's. Tory's first sensation was one of pure, artistic pleasure. Then glancing at Kara she felt a deeper joy. A moment Kara appeared to have forgotten her own misfortune. She looked more interested, more entertained than in many days. "Don't you think, Evan, that if your mother is well she might be persuaded to come to your camp and teach us dancing?" Kara demanded, as if she too could be included in the lessons. "I know when we first decided to have our camp in Beechwood Forest one of the things we talked of doing was learning outdoor dancing. We hoped Miss Mason would be able to teach us. She only knows ordinary dances, and insists she does not even know the newest of these. She has not gone into society since the death of the young officer to whom she was engaged," Kara confided. "Sometimes I wonder if being Captain of our Girl Scout Troop has not helped her almost as much as the rest of us?" She stopped abruptly. Farther off in the woods the three girls heard a strange sound. It was as if some one were calling. Yet the noise was not the Girl Scout signal. Ten minutes later, on the way back to camp, unexpectedly the three girls beheld Teresa Peterson hurrying on alone. She looked surprised, even a little frightened, by their appearance. When Tory inquired where she had been, as Teresa made no reply, the question was dropped. No one was supposed to leave the camp without special permission from the Troop Captain. There was no reason, however, to suppose that Teresa had not received this permission. CHAPTER VII OTHER GIRLS The other girls in the camp in Beechwood Forest were not passing through so trying an ordeal as Victoria Drew and Katherine Moore, after Katherine's return to camp. Sympathetic they were with Kara's misfortune, yet upon them it did not press so heavily. Frankly two of the girls acknowledged that the few weeks at camp were the happiest of their entire lives. These two girls were Louise Miller and Teresa Peterson. Neither of them was particularly congenial with their home surroundings. An odd contradiction, Louise Miller was oftentimes so quiet, so slow and awkward in her movements that many persons regarded her as stupid. This was never true among the friends who knew her intimately, if for no other reason, than because of Dorothy McClain's attitude. From the time they were children the two girls had admired and loved each other, notwithstanding the difference in their natures. Dorothy was one of the happy persons whose attraction was so apparent that few natures resisted it. She was handsome and straightforward and sweet tempered. One girl in a family of six brothers, she had learned a freemasonry of living, and had not the sensitiveness and introspection that troubles so many young girls. Her mother was dead, yet she and her father had been such intimate friends that she had not felt the keenness of her loss as she must have under different circumstances. Indeed, Louise Miller, whose parents were living, endured a deeper loneliness. There had never been any pretence of anything else. Her father was a business failure. This had narrowed and embittered his nature. He was devoted to his wife but to no one else. She had cared for society and beautiful surroundings and been forced to do without them. To have Louise, her oldest child, another disappointment, was difficult to bear. If Louise had been pretty, if she had appeared to be clever, if she had cared for her home life and been anxious to assist her mother with the younger children, Mrs. Miller would have been quick to appreciate any one of these characteristics. But Louise was not handsome, she insisted upon disliking every character of household work, and her position at school was not always above the average. In certain classes she did excel. Louise herself was the last person who could have explained why there were days when she was so absorbed that she seemed more than ordinarily dull even in the subjects that sometimes interested her. She was never a favorite with her teachers or with strangers. But for one thing Louise was always grateful. Her own troop of Girl Scouts sincerely liked her, for her own sake as well as Dorothy's. Only Dorothy she believed really understood and cared for her deeply in spite of her faults and idiosyncrasies. With Dorothy alone she felt able to say and behave exactly as she desired. She could drop into one of her moods of self-absorption, or speak as if she were thinking aloud. Not always were her ideas clear even to herself until she had slowly evolved them. Now these days in the woods Louise felt freer, less awkward and self-conscious. Mysteriously, unexpectedly, she was finding herself. With the other girls nature study was a pastime, or merely a necessity of their outdoor Scout training. With Louise it was becoming a passionate delight. The note of the first bird singing deep among the beechwoods found her awake and guessing the name before slipping noiselessly outdoors to see if the warbler could be discovered. The other girls were amused by the fact that Louise wandered about all day carrying a nature book in her hand. She studied the trees and flowers, even the stones, silent most of the time while her companions chattered. If one of them asked a question concerning the outdoors that she could answer, she would become eloquent enough. But to Dorothy McClain alone she confided her deeper spiritual and mental reactions. "It is as if I had been asleep all my life before, Dorothy, dear, and was only beginning to wake up. Somehow I cannot explain it, even to myself, I feel so convinced that this summer in the woods will have a tremendous influence on my future life. I am going to find something in these woods that I have been looking for in a stupid fashion since I was a little girl." "We are what the winds and sun and waters made us," Dorothy quoted, glad to recall at this moment the lines her father so often repeated. Louise shook her head. "No, I mean something different. We all are what you have just said. I feel lately that the outdoors is going to do something special for me. Actually I mean I am going to find something here the rest of you may not find." Louise laughed. She had a large mouth with strong, white teeth. "That speech of mine would annoy my mother dreadfully. She says I am always dreaming and never interested in _real_ things. Nothing ever seemed real to me until this summer in Beechwood Forest." Carefully she smoothed the brown army blanket on her cot bed. She and Dorothy McClain were straightening their tent preparatory for inspection in the hour after breakfast. Their flag raising and Scout drill were the first features of the long summer day. The tent was scrupulously neat. Dorothy McClain stooped to pick up a fallen book. She was paying a slightly puzzled attention to the other girl's odd conversation. "Would it not be difficult to persuade your mother to believe, Louise, that you and I are interested in our camp housekeeping? Miss Mason said the other day you probably would earn a merit badge before the summer was past for cooking over a camp fire. Is this because you are preparing to spend your entire life out of doors?" Dorothy appeared amused and incredulous. She was devoted to athletics and a thoroughly normal and delightful person. Nevertheless, the two people for whom she cared most, excepting her father, were her brother Lance and her friend Louise Miller, both of whom were unusual. "You are an angel, Dorothy, to try to be sympathetic with me. You can't know what I am talking about, if I don't myself. There is only one other person in the world to whom I could speak, Miss Frean. When I know better what I am only dreaming of at present I shall confide to her and ask her advice. Isn't it fine to think of her nearby in her little House in the Woods, always ready to give us help and advice. Tory declares she would never have dared to insist we have Kara at camp with us when she is so ill and unhappy except for Miss Frean's nearness." Her task accomplished, Louise turned aside from her cot bed and put her arm about the other girl's shoulders. "Dorothy, I know I am selfish with you. I suppose because I am so tongue-tied with other people I pour forth everything upon you. I have not forgotten you said you wanted to speak to me about something this morning when we were alone. What is it?" Dorothy stooped and glanced in the small square mirror which hung suspended from one of the tent poles. Her bright chestnut hair was braided and twisted about her head. Ordinarily her father objected to this grown up fashion. At camp Dorothy insisted that two long plaits were always in one's way. Her eyes were a clear blue with a slight hint of gray, her skin healthy and freshly colored. A fine, frank line formed her lips. Altogether she was the type of American girlhood who represents many of our highest ideals. At the present moment a frown appeared between her brows. "I did want to ask your opinion about something, Louise. Yet nothing is more important to me than to see how happy you are this summer and how the life in the forest is changing you. What I wanted to ask is your view concerning the apology the Boy Scouts have made us for their rudeness. Shall we or shall we not bury the hatchet and agree to forgive them? The situation is particularly uncomfortable for me. I don't like to take any special position in the matter, because Lance and Don are my brothers. Lance has confessed he was principally responsible for their effort to frighten or tease us soon after our arrival at camp. So far as I have been able to find out we seem about evenly divided on the subject. Tory Drew wishes to forget all about it. She is so grateful to Don and Lance for rescuing Kara that she refuses to consider anything else. Edith Linder agrees with Tory besides Evan Phillips and several other girls. "Strangely the persons most opposed to forgiving the boys and making friends again are Margaret Hale and Joan Peters. "We are to vote on the question to-night. "But here comes Teresa. Perhaps she will tell us how she feels on the subject. I wonder what is the matter? She looks worried, and she has been so happy at camp." At the tent opening Teresa appeared. "Do come on down to the lake and let us sit there a half hour and talk if you have finished your work?" she asked. Teresa's olive coloring had deepened in the weeks in the sunshine and fresh air, her cheeks were more rose colored, her wide eyes with their half mature, half childish expression were slightly plaintive at this instant. The shores of the lake, not a great distance from the camping ground, were a favorite resting place for the Girl Scout Troop. Not only did they rest here and hold long conversations, of necessity here a good deal of the camp work took place. Clothes and dishes were washed, water was had for cleaning. Farther up on the left-hand side, where a shore of bright pebbles ran down into the lake, was the bathing beach for the campers. The water for drinking was obtained at a pure spring up the hill of the Three Pines which rose not far off from the camp. At present, as the greater number of the girls were still busy in their tents, the vicinity of the lake was agreeably solitary. As the three girls sat down Louise Miller said suddenly: "There is a legend of a lake where every night at midnight a maiden arises bearing in her hands a silver bowl. One may make a wish and cast it into the silver bowl. Then the maiden disappears. On another night, one can never know exactly when, the maiden returns and on this night grants your wish." "I wish she would appear at once," Teresa grumbled. "I have a wish she might be persuaded to grant. I want something more exciting to happen at camp. Oh, I am enjoying it of course, but of late the days have been a good deal alike." "What is it you want, Teresa?" Louise Miller demanded a little scornfully. Two girls could not have been more unlike. Because Louise was intellectual she could not altogether refrain from regarding the other girl with a mixture of pity and amused contempt, as well as occasional envy. Teresa was so pretty, so gentle and confiding and pleasure loving. When she failed to live up to the Scout rules, as all of the girls, being human, did now and then, no one ever blamed Teresa. Nor did Louise Miller understand that Teresa represented the type of girl who oftentimes has a stronger will than any other, hidden beneath her apparent gentleness. Teresa was not conscious of possessing a strong will. In fact, she would have denied the fact, believing she was telling the exact truth. She only knew that in a quiet fashion she wanted what she wanted very intensely and that it was almost impossible to give up any wish. She might try her best, she might even pretend to herself that she had given up. The desire was inclined to be only asleep and to wake again. One must remember this characteristic in hearing of Teresa Peterson's after career. Teresa shrugged her shoulders. "I am not anxious to talk to you, Louise, only it is so impossible to see Dorothy without you." Teresa flushed prettily. "There, I don't mean to be rude. One is now and then without intending it. I suppose you are such a profoundly intellectual individual you cannot bear with my frivolous character. "I only want to say to Dorothy that I am specially anxious to have our camp of Girl Scouts make friends with the Boy Scouts. I have a special reason and promised to do my best with the girls. But of course I know I have not a great deal of influence, like you have Dorothy, or Margaret Hale, or Tory Drew." Teresa's voice and manner became vaguely plaintive. "Then we could have occasional dances, or supper parties, something to vary the outdoor monotony. Oh, of course I love the camp better than being at home. I only thought we were going to have some other associates beside just our own Troop. Most of the boys are our old friends and Don and Lance are your brothers, Dorothy. I don't see any point in our always avoiding each other." "I see, Teresa, feminine society is not enough for you. I wonder if it ever will be," Louise remarked with such profound disgust and annoyance that Dorothy shook her head reproachfully. "Don't be so cross, Ouida, I am sure Teresa does not mean any great harm. I like boys, I am obliged to like them with six brothers of my own. Besides, I feel as Teresa does that it is stupid and self righteous of us to continue to refuse to have anything to do with the Boy Scouts simply because they once offended us. Certainly I miss the opportunity to see Lance and Don now and then." Anxious to be out of the conversation, Louise Miller picked up a book of nature studies on the New England country, by John Burroughs, and began reading. Teresa Peterson's nature was not a straightforward one. Without actual proof Louise Miller felt this instinctively. Of course there was no great harm in her. But then all the more reason why she might make mischief without intending it. A few moments later the three girls moved back toward camp. Tent inspection was over and they were going for an all-day hike through the woods. CHAPTER VIII LIGHT AND SHADE Victoria Drew sat on the lowest step leading into the evergreen cabin. This was the name she preferred to call it. Inside Kara lay asleep. There was no one else at the camp in Beechwood Forest at this moment. The other girls and the Troop Captain had departed for a day's hike, not to return until late afternoon. Nevertheless Tory and Kara had not been alone. This never occurred; Edith Linder had remained to be useful and to relieve Tory. As a matter of fact, the Troop Captain, Miss Mason, and half a dozen girls had insisted that Tory go forth for the long hike. The day was a perfect midsummer day and each and every one of them would gladly remain with Kara. Tory had declined. In face of the argument that it was her duty to give the other Girl Scouts the opportunity to be useful to Kara, who was their friend as well as her own, Tory insisted that to-day she was too tired for a long tramp. In any case she would stay on at camp. Some other day she would be glad to change places. At present Edith Linder had gone the half mile or more away to the little House in the Woods on an errand. She had promised to help prepare supper before the camping party could return. Finding herself in need of supplies she had explained to Tory and slipped away. Kara would not be apt to awaken soon and there appeared no immediate need for her. In truth Tory was glad to be alone for an hour. In a short time the sun would set. Weary Tory believed she wanted an hour for quiet thinking. Earlier in the day Teresa had confessed that she was feeling a degree of disappointment in the summer camp. Tory Drew was disappointed, but for different reasons. The past winter had been the most difficult she could remember. After a wandering existence abroad with her artist father, it had not been simple to find her place and to make friends in Westhaven. Yet she had accomplished both. Her aunt, Miss Victoria Fenton, did not regard her with great affection, nevertheless at least she had agreed that the younger Victoria had become slightly less trying. And she and her uncle, Mr. Richard Fenton, at first not liking each other, had become devoted comrades. Save for his interest and aid the summer camp, now surrounding her like a quiet guard, would never have been a possibility. Growing a little restless, Tory changed her position. Would it not have been better had she gone on the errand to Miss Frean and asked Edith to watch beside Kara. Of late Kara frequently showed that she was weary of so much of her society. Moreover, without confessing the fact, Tory appreciated that she was suffering from the strain. She was tired and nervous oftener than she was accustomed to feeling. A quiet talk with Memory Frean and a walk to the House in the Woods would have done her good. Her uncle had said that he hoped this summer would give them an opportunity for a closer intimacy. He believed that her influence would be of benefit to Tory. If their friendship of long ago had ended, he had not for that reason ceased to admire Miss Frean. At this moment a breeze swept through Beechwood Forest, setting the leaves shimmering with a fairylike enchantment. An instant Tory was aroused from her reflections. She was alone with no one to disturb her. Why not slip into her tent and find her sketch book? She probably would have time for a sketch before Kara awakened or Edith Linder returned. Unaware of her own action, Tory shook her head. She was too tired to sketch, and worse, felt no inspiration or desire. Next to her grief over Kara was her disappointment in regard to her summer's work. Miss Mason had agreed that she might try for a Merit Badge as an artist during their camp. Surely she had sufficient talent to have won it. She had looked forward to having an arm filled with worth-while sketches of her outdoor summer to show her father upon his return to Westhaven. Now she must face the fact that she would have not a single drawing she would care to submit to competent judges, not even a sketch she would be willing to have her father criticize. Of course she would be glad to have sacrificed her summer to Kara, if Kara had revealed a moderate amount of appreciation. In truth Kara was not even as fond of her as she had been in the past before she had been able to show her devotion. To do one's best and always seem inadequate is not a condition many persons can face cheerfully. Inside, in the room beyond the open door, the other girl stirred, and Tory glanced in. On a cot by a window Kara lay asleep. The room had changed since her coming. Formerly it had been the Girl Scout living room. Here they had eaten their meals and held their Scout meetings on the occasional rainy evenings when their more splendid outdoor meeting place had been less comfortable. This could still be managed if Kara were well enough or in the mood to take part. But always her comfort and her wish were first. Thrown over her at this moment was a gay woolen cover made by her own Troop of Girl Scouts. During the past winter each of them, who had not known how previously, had learned to knit as a part of their home training. The suggestion had come from Teresa that each girl knit a square of her favorite color, and thus a rainbow scarf might shed good fortune upon Kara. So far, Tory decided, with a sudden trembling of her lips, the promise had not been fulfilled. Kara was no happier in body or mind since her return to the camp. Yet the room in which she was lying at present asleep was altogether charming. The sunlight, fading into its last brilliancy, shone through pale yellow curtains. On the mantel above the fireplace was a brown bowl of yellow wild flowers. Perched above, with wings outspread, was Mr. Richard Fenton's last gift to the evergreen cabin, the stuffed figure of an American eagle. A splendid specimen, one instinctively looked up toward it on entering the room. Over it were the words, "The Girl Scouts of the Eagle's Wing in Beechwood Forest." A table drawn up near the couch was filled with flowers, books, magazines and small articles. Scarcely a day passed that Kara did not receive a gift of some kind, not only from the Girl Scouts and their families, but from her many friends in Westhaven. Yet, apparently, Kara no longer cared for what in the past would have given her happiness. At one time she had been glad to feel that Westhaven did not regard her merely as a little waif who had been left upon their bounty and brought up at the "Gray House." She was the ward of the entire village. Now this was of no further concern to her. Tiptoeing softly into the room, Tory closed a window without arousing the sleeper. Strange to think that Kara long ago had slept in this same room and been rescued by a stranger! What would be her emotions if she knew that in this house, tumbled down and uncared for, she had been deserted as a baby? Tory decided that she must remember to warn Mr. Jeremy Hammond, who had rescued Kara, never to recall the fact to her mind. Dr. McClain had agreed that for the present this would be wisest, as in no possible way must Kara be excited or depressed. True, Mr. Hammond had never been to see Kara since her accident! He must have learned of her misfortune. A large box of roses had arrived at the "Gray House." Yet neither Mr. or Mrs. Hammond nor Lucy had come personally to inquire. At the thought Tory's face flushed with annoyance. Mr. Hammond had not been attracted by Kara when he appeared at the orphan asylum with the idea of adopting the little girl he had discovered long ago. Instead he had chosen Lucy, the little girl whom Kara had cared for as if she were a small sister. Lucy, at least, should have paid daily visits to see if she could be useful. Possibly she had forgotten Kara amid her new wealth. "Well, _she_ would never forget or be unfaithful," Tory thought with a sudden intensity of feeling characteristic of her. Some day Kara must surely find someone or something to compensate her for her difficult girlhood! If only there might be a treasure, some fortunate inheritance, hidden away in the little evergreen house, left there by the parents who seemed to have cared less than nothing for their baby! At her own dreaming Tory smiled. She then tiptoed out of the room again. The place had been thoroughly searched for information and not a line had been discovered save the slip of paper with Kara's name, "Katherine Moore." Outside on the veranda Tory did not sit down at once. She could see some one approaching toward the camp down the long path. Edith Linder was probably returning. It was, perhaps, as well. Miss Mason, the Troop Captain, insisted that the girls never be at camp or in the woods alone. If Miss Frean knew she would doubtless come back with Edith. Tory hoped this might be true. There were so many questions to discuss. Kara had proposed an interesting suggestion earlier in the day. Evan Phillips' mother might be induced to teach their own little group of Girl Scouts outdoor dancing. Where could there be a more perfect opportunity than here in the heart of Beechwood Forest in their own "Choros," or dancing-ground? The figure approaching was not a girl's. At some distance off Tory recognized Lance McClain. He was strolling calmly along in the most unconcerned fashion, a book open in his hand. Now and then he glanced down and read a few lines. Not the slightest intimation did his manner reveal that he ought to regard himself as an unwelcome visitor in the Girl Scout camp. Tory had not seen him since the morning when he had aided in bringing Kara home. On that occasion he had been told that the girls were still undecided whether they wished to have anything further to do with Lance's group of Boy Scouts during their summer camping season. "Hello, Tory; I hoped I would find you outdoors," he called out amiably when within a few yards of the evergreen house. Tory ran down the steps. "Don't make a racket, Lance! What in the world are you doing here? Kara is asleep and I am on guard. You know you are not supposed to come to our camp. I feel as people used to in the old fairy stories and legends. Somehow I must try to save you from having your head chopped off, or some other fearful end. I do consider you deserve it, but somehow it would be unpleasant." "Your gentleness and kindness of heart overpower me, Oh, Victoria of Beechwood Forest," Lance answered. He bowed in the graceful fashion that for some unexplainable reason often aggravated Tory, and Dorothy and Donald McClain; Lance's own sister and brother. Lance was too unlike other boys at times not to be trying. "Come down to the shore of the lake with me, won't you Princess Nausicaa?" he demanded. "See how well I remember the name some one bestowed upon you when I was here before. I have another reason for recalling it. I shall explain in another instant if you will be so good as to listen. "What a pleasure to find you alone! Of course I expected it. I can't say I should have cared to enter this particular camp if I had been forced to face the entire troop of disapproving maiden Scouts. Still, there is something I am anxious to have brought to your attention. Come along, Tory." The girl shook her head. "Not so far away as the lake, Lance. I'll come to the big beech here near the cabin. I'll know then if Kara wakes and wants me, yet we will not be near enough to disturb her." Under the deep green shelter Tory looked more searchingly at her companion. "You say you expected to find me at camp with most of the other girls away. Did you see them on their hike or did Dorothy tell you we were planning an all-day tramp?" Lance shook his head. "No, I have seen no one and heard nothing from Dorothy. If I have a secret source of information isn't that my affair? In any case you would not have me betray another?" Tory sighed. "Oh, for goodness sake, Lance, do say what you intend to say in a straightforward fashion. I wish you were more like Don. One can always understand and depend upon Don." Then, when she saw Lance flush, Tory regretted her speech. "I am all too accustomed to that remark, Tory. I assure you that if I have seen any one from your camp or received any information concerning you, it is not because I desired to be disagreeable. I was hoping I might be allowed to extend you the olive branch. "In fact, I have the olive branch with me. It is hidden away in my book." CHAPTER IX THE ODYSSEY Tory took the book into her own hands. Sitting down on the ground, she opened the leaves carefully. Nothing to suggest an olive branch met her gaze, not a pressed leaf or a flower which might have served as a symbol. Seated beside her, Lance's thin face, with its tanned skin and humorous brown eyes, peered eagerly over her shoulder. Tory shook her head. "Explain yourself again, Lance. What has this book, the story of the wanderings of the Greek hero, Odysseus, after the Trojan war, to do with ending the feud between your troop of Boy Scouts and our own of girls?" Tory patiently inquired. "I know you have some idea in mind, but it takes a cleverer person than I to fathom it." Gently Lance removed his book from the girl's clasp. "Listen, Tory, for a few moments while I read to you. Then I'll tell you what I mean and ask for your help if you are willing to give it. You look tired and it may rest you." Gladly Tory submitted. Clasping her hands together in her lap, she let her eyes wander from their first glance at the little log cabin with its bright covering of evergreens on and away into the deeper green of Beechwood Forest, now shadowy with the approach of evening. Lance could be agreeable when he liked. The winter before, when first she had been introduced to Dorothy McClain's six brothers, she had liked Lance better than the others. She even had preferred him to Don, his twin brother, whom people in Westhaven insisted was the handsomest member of the family. During an illness of Lance's she had been able to save him from being seriously burned. Afterwards, curiously, they became less friendly. In any case Tory knew that she at present preferred Don. Not only was he handsomer and stronger and more straightforward, he showed a sincerer liking for her. "So there the stout-hearted Odysseus lay and slept, worn out with all his toil. But meanwhile Athena went to the Sea-Kings' city, up to the palace of their ruler, the wise Alcinous and into the beautiful chamber where his daughter lay asleep, the young princess, Nausicaa, fair as the Immortals. On either side of the threshold two maidens were sleeping, as lovely as the Graces, and the glittering doors were shut. But the Goddess floated through them like a breath of wind up to the head of the couch, and spoke to Nausicaa in a dream. She seemed to her one of her dear companions, the daughter of Dymas, the sailor." As Lance continued reading Tory did not listen attentively. He had a pleasant, quiet voice that shed a restful influence upon her as he had hoped. Tory was not especially fond of reading, not to the extent that her uncle, Mr. Richard Fenton would have liked. He spent the greater part of his time in his library at the old Fenton house in Westhaven. Miss Frean in her own little House in the Woods gently reproached Tory now and then for her lack of interest in books. Perhaps neither one of them could understand that pictures were what she cared for intensely. The pictures need not of necessity be of the character that hang upon walls. Tory was seeing pictures at this moment which were affording her the deepest pleasure. If only she had her neglected sketch book in her hands! Bent over his book Lance's head would have made an interesting sketch even if she were unable to obtain a satisfactory likeness. Then Tory forgot Lance and the outward objects surrounding her. The words he was reading aloud were creating a beautiful image in her mind. She seemed able to see "The Princess Nausicaa, fair as the Immortals." Her companion read on: "So the night passed away, and the young dawn appeared on her glorious throne and awakened the princess." With a bang Lance closed his book. "Stop dreaming, Tory Drew. You scarcely know I am present and I want you to be particularly sensible and attentive to what I am going to say. I suppose you know I have been reading the story of the Odyssey, since you told me Miss Frean had read it to you early in the summer." Tory laughed. For all his quietness and apparent gentleness Lance's nature was more domineering than most persons appreciated. Their friends believed that Don ruled in the intimate friendship between the two brothers. More often than not they were mistaken. "We have been having a great time at our Scout camp, Tory. Hope you girls have had as good! I have enjoyed the summer a lot better than I expected. I know I have improved in the drilling and a few other things. Lucky for me that I am fond of a few outdoor sports; keeps up my end in the Scout proficiency tests!" "All right, Lance, but why don't you come to the point? I know it is hard for you to have to give your time and energy to so many things and never be allowed to study the music you love. But then, of course, your father knows best. I can understand his not wishing you to be a musician," Tory added hastily, fearing she might appear to be criticising the doctor whom she loved and admired. "I can appreciate your father saying that with six sons and a daughter and he only a small town physician, he never could afford to let you have the musical education you would require." "All right, Tory, no use going into that subject now. I have heard all that a good many times. What we were talking about was the Scout organizations, yours and mine. I think they are specially good for us; for you, because you are an only girl and kind of spoiled by pretty nearly everybody. Good for me because I am a selfish fellow who likes to be alone unless I can hang around with Don. We get the combination of freedom and discipline we both need. "At first this summer I thought the other fellows were not going to have much use for my queer notions. I thought they stood for me because Don is very nearly the most popular Scout in camp. I was kind of pleased when they chose me to come over to camp and extend the olive branch to you Girl Scouts." The thin, brown face was now eager and glowing, but Tory remained as completely mystified. "Remember the tableaux your troop of Girl Scouts gave in Westhaven this spring? They were a great success and I, for one, shall never forget how you looked as Joan of Arc. "Ever since our Boy Scout Troop has been trying to get up something as good. This summer we decided would be our best chance with all the fellows together and our officers and several members of our Scout Council staying at camp." "Yes," Tory replied, beginning to be anxious to go back to Kara and wishing Lance would finish what he was endeavoring to say. The other Girl Scouts might come back to camp at any moment. She did not wish to be discovered seated under a beech tree conversing with Lance McClain, whose presence at their camp was neither invited nor desired. Later she would be able to explain, but for the moment she would not enjoy the position. Lance smiled. "I appreciate you are in a hurry, Tory, as well as the other things you are thinking. You need not believe I wish to be discovered here until you have had a chance to make things clear to Miss Mason and the Girl Scouts. But I want to put my proposition to you before you have your outdoor meeting to-night to decide whether you wish to make friends once more." Again Tory was puzzled to understand how Lance could know so much of their daily program. His next suggestion drove all other thoughts from her mind. "To get to the point: After a lot of reading and discussion we have concluded to close our summer holiday with an outdoor pageant. I suppose one should call it a pageant. We are not going to do exactly what other people have been doing all summer. We don't intend to present New England history. After the big pageant at Plymouth Rock, it would take a good deal of nerve to try to imitate it. So we have decided to present the 'Wanderings of Odysseus.' We are not sure as to details. Our plan is to have a series of Greek tableaux that will tell the story and have some one person read certain of the lines aloud." Tory leaned forward. She appeared interested but doubtful. "That is a pretty big idea, Lance. Do you feel you will be equal to it? Presenting an American pageant is one thing, but gracious! who knows what Greek pictures should be like? "Of course, I am sure the girls will be delighted if there is anything we can do to be useful. You were awfully kind about helping us," Tory continued, feeling she had not appeared as enthusiastic as Lance might have hoped. "But where is the olive branch I am to offer the girls to-night when we have our meeting to decide whether we are willing to make friends?" Lance flushed and looked uncomfortable. "The olive branch is what I have been talking about, Tory. The Boy Scouts want you girls to take part in our Greek pageant. We want you to take the feminine rôles. Now, don't say no, right off, Tory, and don't be so discouraging as you seem to feel. I confess I am counting on your influence in more ways than one. The truth is the suggestion came from me, and I have had a hard enough time trying to make the other fellows see the thing as I do. Suppose we don't accomplish anything remarkable, it is fun to have had a try. And it is worth while trying to make people see things and think things that have had to do with other nations at other times in the world's history. I want you to talk to your uncle, Mr. Fenton, and to ask his advice before we go much further. I suppose you know he is a Greek scholar." During Lance's speech Tory's expression had become more sympathetic and convinced. "Perhaps the idea is possible, Lance. In any case, I am delighted to help all I can by talking to Uncle Richard and using whatever influence I have with the girls. Only one thing, you must not count on my taking part. I could not give up the time from being with Kara." "I understand, Tory; we'll see how it works out. I was thinking of Kara as I came over here to talk to you. A lot better than a good many other people I believe I can understand Kara's present state of mind. You see, I have been sick myself. Kara will brace up once she gets hold of herself. Don't you take anything she says or does too seriously." Lance and Tory got up and began walking back toward the evergreen cabin. "You know if this thing goes through I believe it may be a help to Kara. She isn't strong enough for a lot of excitement, but it will give her an outside interest. Right now she needs to think of something beside herself. "I suppose I ought to have strength of character enough not to mention it. But there are days when the fact that I am never going to have a chance to be a great musician gets hold of me, and I know there is nobody on earth then who is as disagreeable as I can be. I don't see why Kara cannot play some part in the tableaux. She could be seated in her chair as if it were a kind of throne," Lance concluded. The girl looked at him gravely. "You can be a comfort when you wish to be, Lance, and you are right, you can be dreadfully disagreeable. Only you are not very often. "Would your telling me how you know what we are doing at our Girl Scout camp involve some one else?" Lance nodded. "Yes, so I decline to mention names. Now, don't be stupid and think I mean anything serious. If two people meet they have a right to speak to each other. Good-by, I must be off. I think I hear the Girl Scouts returning. Do the best you can for us." CHAPTER X CONSULTATIONS AND DECISIONS At the close of their evening's discussion the Girl Scouts had not finally decided whether to accept or reject the invitation tendered them by Tory Drew. They would be friends again. This opinion was at last unanimous. But to take part in a Greek pageant which would require a sacrifice of time and energy from the routine of their camp life? This represented a deeper problem. There must be a longer period for consultation. The advice of their Girl Scout Council must be asked. Upon this, Miss Mason, the Troop Captain, insisted, before even expressing her own point of view. By the following afternoon she and Tory and Edith Linder started out for the little House in the Woods to talk over the idea with Memory Frean, who represented one of their chief sources of wisdom. The summer afternoon was a perfect one. Illimitably beautiful pale dappled gray clouds filled the summer sky, shutting out the fierce rays of the sun. As they hoped, from a little distance off the three newcomers discovered Miss Frean busy in her garden. Tory saw her first. She made a motion with her hand to suggest that they approach softly without being observed. The older woman wore no hat, and a simple outdoor cotton dress of pale gray, with a deep blue scarf over her shoulders. Her hair was more carefully arranged than usual in the shining, heavy brown braids Tory so often had admired. In truth Memory Frean had begun to take more interest in her personal appearance since her meeting with Victoria Drew on the wintry road. So long she had lived alone in her little House in the Woods, with her outdoor interests in the summer time and her books in winter, that she had grown too careless. The meeting with Tory had brought back old friends and memories. Tory had introduced her to the Girl Scouts of the Eagle's Wing. Now, as a member of their Council, Memory felt as if the girls were her adopted daughters. Edith Linder had been in a measure her adopted daughter. She had lived for the past winter in the house with Miss Frean. Now Edith uttered an exclamation of pleasure, which at Tory's gesture she quickly subdued. Memory Frean was standing in the center of a plot of grass with her arms outstretched. Fluttering about her head were a family of wrens. Two had alighted within the palms of her hands and were gazing toward her with serious intentness. In a nearby tree stood a new bird house, which she must recently have placed in position, as not far off was another bird house smaller and shabbier. Outside the door of the new home a feast of bread crumbs had been spread. By and by one of the wrens flying near the new abode, pecked at a crumb. Something gave him confidence and courage. Inside the open door he disappeared. Instantly the entire family followed. The three visitors burst into a cry of admiration. Memory Frean came toward them, still with her arms outstretched. "I have been expecting you all day. No Girl Scout has been near me since Edith came on a borrowing expedition late yesterday afternoon. If you had waited any longer I should have been offended. See, I have put on a clean dress, and the water is boiling for tea, and the table spread in the Shakespeare garden." Miss Frean led the way, with Edith and Tory clinging to her and Sheila Mason following. The herbs in the Shakespeare garden were in the perfection of bloom. In the fragrance of the summer air mingled the pungent odors of thyme and marjoram, sage and rosemary. A bunch of the herbs decorated the small round table. Edith Linder disappeared toward the kitchen for the tea, while the three others sat down. "Edith Linder has been a success as a Girl Scout this summer, has she not, Sheila? We did our best to prepare for the honor last winter. Edith and I realized that Tory opposed her joining your troop." Tory flushed. "Is it very kind of you, Memory Frean, to refer to one's past mistakes, especially when I am your guest?" Memory Frean laid her large but beautiful hand, a little roughened from outdoor work, upon Tory Drew's sensitive, slender one. "I suppose I should apologize to you, Tory. I only meant to say that I am glad you finally agreed to allow Edith to enter your Patrol. I do not believe any of you quite realize what the honor meant to her. In a brief time she seems to have changed more than any one I have ever known. She had not had much of a chance in the past. Occasionally last winter, when she was with me, she gave Tory the right to her prejudice." The large hand had not been raised from the smaller one. Still weary, from what cause she could not guess, Tory felt as if the strength and vitality of the older woman were flowing gently into her. Scarcely listening more than was necessary for politeness, she leaned her head against her companion's shoulder. "I believe one of the most difficult things in the world to realize is that when people fail to possess the characteristics we have agreed they ought to possess, the failure nearly always comes from lack of opportunity, not from choice. I don't mean to be preaching truisms, I was only thinking of this in connection with the Scout organizations. They bring opportunities to so many who would have had no chance otherwise. Edith Linder had never had the opportunity or the spur she needed. Her ambition to be a good Scout has given her both. "Wake up, Tory. Are you being nice to Edith as you promised me to be? She likes and admires you, and I am sure would not mind my speaking of this." "There are three girls in our summer camp who have the greatest personal influence over the others. It is interesting to watch," Miss Mason remarked, smiling at the older woman. "Of course, under the circumstances I do not include Kara. Her illness makes her influence of a different kind at present." Tory lifted her head, more interested in the discussion. "Yes, I have noticed this about Margaret Hale and Dorothy McClain. I am not so sure, I think the third girl is Joan Peters," she ejaculated and relapsed into quiet again. The two women glanced at Tory and then at Edith Linder, who was at this instant coming across the yard with the tea. The two girls were an apt illustration of Memory Frean's last expressed opinion. Edith had grown tall in the past year. Her features were large and a little coarse, but handsome in their own fashion. There was about her a look of capacity. If she had desired she could easily have lifted and carried the other girl who was nearly her own age. Edith's family had been small farmers for generations. Tory Drew's had been students and artists and writers. She had no appearance of physical strength and yet her vitality was probably as great. She looked admiringly at the other girl. "Edith is splendid. She knows more of cooking and practical things than any girl in camp. She was trying to teach me to cook and we were together a good deal of the time before Kara's accident. Now I see little of any of the other girls, although I really think Kara often would prefer anyone's society to mine." Edith was by this time engaged in pouring the tea. "I like to behave as if I were more at home in the House in the Woods than any one of the other Scouts," she explained. "After all, I am the only one who has lived here, although Tory is an older friend and my greatest rival." Edith spoke as if she meant seriously what she was saying. Yet she spoke with entire good nature. It had been agreed not to discuss the subject of the pageant until her return. The next half hour the two women and two girls talked of nothing else. "I believe you should speak to other members of the Council beside me," Miss Frean argued. "Mr. Fenton is fairy godfather to the camp in Beechwood Forest. He is Tory's uncle and I think should be consulted. If I remember correctly he used to be a Greek scholar. He is not apt to have forgotten, and if he thinks well of the idea can be of great assistance." Before dusk Sheila Mason and Edith Linder started back for camp. They left Tory to have supper with Miss Frean, who promised to bring her home later. The suggestion had originated with the Troop Captain. Tory protested that Kara would need her services and be hurt if she failed to appear. "No, I want Miss Frean to talk to you for a special reason, Tory. I am sure you will find that the other girls, with my help, are capable of caring for Kara this one evening without you." The little edge to Miss Mason's speech Tory had never heard her use before. It left her flushed and silent. She remained alone in the Shakespeare garden while Miss Frean walked a few yards into the woods with her guests. In what fashion was she failing as a Girl Scout, that her Troop Captain felt compelled to ask some one else to lecture her? Why had she not told her wherein lay her fault? Tory found her eyes filling with tears. She was glad to be for a few moments alone. Not often was she given to this particular form of weakness. She disliked it in other persons, but of late her nerves had been troublesome. Were the other Girl Scouts finding her a difficult member of their camp group? By and by the older woman returned. At first she and Tory said nothing upon any intimate topic. They continued to stroll about the garden until dusk. Their supper was to be a simple meal of bread and milk and fruit that would give no trouble. Since she had begun to study and love the New England country this garden of Memory Frean's had become of intense interest and affection to the young American girl who had spent so much of her life in foreign lands. Within the yard and upon the border of the deep woods beyond she had learned the names of a wide variety of trees, birds and flowers. She knew the differences between the white and black and yellow pines, the spruce and the cedar and the several species of maple trees, the ashes and the birches. She had learned that the beech tree is singularly arrogant and permits few other trees to grow inside its woods. At this season of the year the birds were less in evidence than earlier in the spring. Now, as darkness fell, Tory discovered that a greater number sang their evensong in Memory Frean's garden than near their own camp in Beechwood Forest. True, Miss Frean made everything ready for their reception. Placed about the yard were half a dozen wide open bowls filled with fresh water. The garden boasted a hedge of currant and raspberry bushes at present loaded with ripe fruit. There were no scarecrows about and no one ever made an effort to drive the birds away, so they were accustomed to plucking the unforbidden fruit of this garden. This evening Tory assisted at the daily scattering of crumbs. This took place when possible at exactly the same hour. Afterwards she and Memory Frean hid behind a shelter, where concealed they could watch the flight of the birds into the garden. Some floated in from outside, others came down from their nests in Miss Frean's own trees to partake of her hospitality. This evening, appearing with the more regular visitors, was a golden-winged warbler, splendid with his conspicuous yellow wing bars. Close behind him came a pair of tanagers. The female Tory did not recognize until Memory Frean explained that she was a dull green olive in color, unlike her brilliant, scarlet-coated husband. In fact, Tory and Miss Frean did not go indoors until, from somewhere deep in the woods, a whippoorwill began his evening call. In the meantime Tory had happily forgotten there was any subject to be discussed between herself and her friend that might not be an altogether happy one. She did think of it, however, while she was eating her supper on a small table in Memory Frean's living-room, drawn up before a small fire. The night was not particularly cool, yet the fire was not uncomfortable, and had been lighted at Tory's request. The older woman had finished eating and sat holding an open magazine in her hands. Tory's eyes studied the room, with which she now had grown familiar, with the same curiosity and pleasure. The room was so simple and odd. The hundreds of old books in their worn coverings, only a few new ones among them, lined the walls. By the window, the couch was covered with an old New England quilt, of great value, if Tory had realized the fact. The furniture was so inexpensive, the little pine table before her, the larger one with Memory Frean's lamp and books and a bowl of flowers, the chairs and long bench. What a contrast to her own austere and handsome home in Westhaven, now the property of her uncle and aunt, Mr. Richard Fenton and Miss Victoria Fenton. If Memory Frean and her uncle had not ceased to care for each other perhaps there would have been no little House in the Woods. Tory finished her supper and her reflections. "Memory Frean, what is it Miss Mason wished you to talk about to me? How am I failing as a Girl Scout?" When no one else was present she used the older woman's first name, loving its dignity and soft inflections. Memory Frean put down her magazine. "You are not failing, Tory, not in one sense. You are trying to accomplish too much. This is, of course, another form of failure. Take your dishes in to the kitchen and then sit here on the stool by me." Five minutes after she continued: "You see, Tory, it is with Kara you are making a mistake. You are doing yourself and Kara both injustice. Miss Mason tells me she has talked to you and that the other Girl Scouts have protested, yet you remain selfish about Kara." The girl made no answer. If she did not like the accusation, she did not at present deny it. "From the first you have been sentimental over your friendship with Katherine Moore. Kara first made a strong appeal to you when you were lonely and antagonistic toward your new life in a small New England town. This drew her closer to you than had you grown up together in ordinary girl fashion. Besides, you are romantic, Tory. You respond to the people who call forth that side of you. The mystery surrounding poor Kara has fascinated you. The fact that she knew nothing of her parents has made you feel that you could be more to her than had she enjoyed the family affection other girls receive. I believe in your heart of hearts you have planned some day to be Kara's fairy godmother and make up to her for what she has failed to receive." "Well, if I have, is it so wicked of me?" Tory demanded. Memory Frean smiled. "I am afraid so, Tory dear, although many wise persons may not agree with me. I don't think it often is allowed us to play special Providence to other people. Since Kara's accident more than ever have you been trying to accomplish this for her. You have been wearing yourself out and Kara feels this and cannot enjoy it. In their own ways the other Girl Scouts resent your belief that Kara must always prefer you to be with her and to care for her. She was their friend and they knew and loved her before she came into your life. "Together you agreed to bring Kara to camp and to see if you could make things easier for her. The other girls want their chance too, Tory. Don't you realize, dear, that you are growing tired out from too much responsibility. You can't help Kara if you are tired and nervous and, though you may not confess it to yourself, a little resentful of your own disappointment in the summer. "Remember you told me what a lot of outdoor sketching you intended to do. Your father had given you permission to work at your painting and drawing in the summer time, provided you gave your time and energy to your school in the winter. You have not shown me a new drawing since Kara's accident. "Then, don't you suppose the other girls miss having you with them on some of their excursions? Martha Greaves, the English Girl Guide, must have felt many times that you have been neglecting her. She is a stranger and in a way has the right to depend upon you. Am I reproaching you for too much all at once, Tory?" The girl arose up from her low stool and stood with her hands clasped and a frown on her forehead. "You have said a good deal, Memory Frean. If you don't mind, suppose we start back to camp." Tory made no other reply. After a little she and Memory Frean were walking along the path that led in the direction of Beechwood Forest. Tory was no more fond of criticism than most persons, and less accustomed to it. Her mother had died when she was a small girl, and her father had been her devoted friend and admirer, rarely her judge. To her aunt Miss Victoria Fenton's efforts at discipline Tory had yielded little. Her uncle, Mr. Richard Fenton, made no attempt at discipline, but had been sympathetic toward her after the birth of a rare understanding between them. To-night Tory was angry with the person whom, next to Kara, she had believed her dearest friend in Westhaven. Mistakes she may have made in her devotion to Kara. But Memory Frean, Sheila Mason, her Troop Captain, and her own Girl Scouts might have appreciated the situation. She had been with Kara when the accident took place that might result in the tragedy of her life. Dr. McClain and the two surgeons with whom he consulted could only say there was a possibility of a future recovery. But before anything could be hoped for Kara must reach a happier state of mind and body. Never had there been any pretence that she and Kara were not more intimate and devoted than any other two girls in their Troop, save perhaps Dorothy McClain and Louise Miller. Then what was one to do but give Kara all that one possessed? However, if Kara were wearying of this and really preferred the other girls, Tory appreciated that she was probably being a nuisance. She would not speak of it to Memory Frean or Miss Mason, but in the future Kara should not be so bored by her society. Walking on together through the woods, once Memory Frean attempted to put her arm inside Tory's. Quietly Tory drew away. The dusk was deepening. After a time footsteps behind them could be heard. It was as if some one were following them. A screech owl called and startled her; Tory had a sudden attack of nerves; running ahead a few yards, she stumbled. The footsteps were coming nearer. Memory Frean put an arm about her. "Stand still, Tory. Let us wait here and see who is approaching." CHAPTER XI OUT OF THE PAST The stranger was a middle-aged man with iron-gray hair. He was carrying his hat in his hand and enjoying the beauty and fragrance of the late evening in the woods. As Tory rushed toward him, Miss Frean stepped back into a deeper shadow. The newcomer was Tory's uncle, Mr. Richard Fenton. "How stupid of me to have been frightened!" she exclaimed. "I have been taking supper with Miss Frean and she is walking back to camp with me. You were coming to camp to see us?" Mr. Fenton agreed, walking forward to speak to Memory Frean. Except for an occasional meeting upon the streets of Westhaven, and one or two brief conversations with regard to the Girl Scout camp in Beechwood Forest, they had not seen each other in many years. To-night in the depth of the woods, with Tory walking between them, they talked as if neither of them recalled any past intimacy. "I have been a little worried about you, Tory," Mr. Fenton said finally. "You have not been in town to see me in a number of days. I thought it was agreed that we were to see each other once a week." Tory nodded. "Yes, I have missed you dreadfully, but I have been so busy. I thought if you became very lonely you would come and find me," she announced, with the familiarity of a delightful intimacy. By and by when Miss Frean and Mr. Fenton continued talking, the barrier between them increasing, Tory scarcely listened, thinking their conversation not particularly entertaining. They were merely discussing the weather and the scenery. In another quarter of an hour the lights of the camp showed nearby. Darkness had not completely descended. Outdoors one could still see one's way. The chief lights appeared inside the evergreen cabin, while in front of the door stood a large automobile. Fearing that Kara had grown unexpectedly worse, Tory darted away from her companions and into the cabin. The car she saw was not Dr. McClain's. Entering the room, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, she found it filled with people. Kara sat in the center in her wheeled chair. She looked pale but excited and interested. Three visitors were standing near her. They were Mr. and Mrs. Jeremy Hammond and the little girl, Lucy Martin, whom they had adopted some months ago. In the years at the old Gray House on the hill in Westhaven Lucy had been Kara's special charge. If Tory had been fascinated by the little girl's extraordinary beauty in the past, she was more startled to-night. The room was lighted only by candles and a single large lamp under a yellow shade. Lucy wore a pale yellow dress of some filmy, soft material and a large hat circled with a wreath of flowers. She had removed her hat and held it as one would a large basket. Her dark hair made a stiff aureole about her delicately cut face with its pointed chin, large brilliantly black eyes and full red lips. Then Tory was both startled and repelled by the younger girl's expression. She was staring at Kara with no suggestion of sympathy or affection; instead, she looked shocked and frightened and even disdainful. Kara was extending her hands toward the little girl with more animation and pleasure than Tory had seen her reveal since her accident. And actually, with a faint shudder, Lucy was drawing away. An impulse to seize the little girl by the shoulders and forcibly thrust her out of the evergreen cabin assailed Tory. She moved forward. In the meantime Mr. and Mrs. Hammond, becoming aware of Lucy's behavior, were endeavoring to conceal her rudeness. "Kara, Lucy has been insisting each day that we bring her to see you. We did not know at first that you had gone from the Gray House. Afterwards Mr. Hammond was away for a short time and we were waiting for him," Mrs. Hammond remarked, speaking hurriedly but with extreme graciousness. She was a pretty, exquisitely dressed woman of about thirty years with light brown hair and eyes. She appeared an agreeable society woman but without any especial force of character. Evidently if she cared a great deal for Lucy, the little girl in time would have small difficulty in having her own way. This would not be equally true with Mr. Hammond. At present he was divided by annoyance with his adopted daughter and a kind of puzzled curiosity. He was staring about the gay room filled with girls and then at the figure in the wheeled chair. Kara appeared to be interested in no one save Lucy. Now as the child shrank away from her, her thin hands dropped in her lap, her face looked whiter and her gray eyes with the heavy dark lashes grew sadder and more wistful. A little murmur, not actually voiced and yet capable of being heard, ran through the room. This time Lucy must have understood the antagonism among the group of Girl Scouts that her manner had created. At one time, and only a few months before, Kara had been everything to her, sister and nurse and friend. A few months of wealth and she seemed completely spoiled. "You have many friends, Kara, but if there is anything Mr. Hammond and I could possibly do for you, you have only to let us know," Mrs. Hammond suggested at this moment, not very tactfully. "You are very kind, but there is nothing to be done," Kara returned coldly. Apparently she had lost all interest in her guests, now that Lucy had so utterly forgotten the old days at the Gray House on the hill. She always had been an odd little creature, passionate, self willed and self seeking. Still, Kara had never doubted her affection. Not yet eight o'clock and Kara not expected to retire until nine, nevertheless Tory looked about the room in search of Miss Mason. Kara was being wearied. Better the room full of people be asked to go outdoors. They could talk on in the deepening dusk. At the open door Sheila Mason was talking to Miss Frean and Mr. Richard Fenton. At the moment she was not thinking of Kara and the three other visitors. Trying to make up her mind to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Hammond herself, Tory saw that Mr. Hammond suddenly appeared restless and at the same time absorbed in thought. "See here, Miss Kara, I wonder if you would like me to tell you something? I am not perfectly sure and perhaps have not the right to speak. Yet after all I am pretty well convinced that I am not making a mistake and you cannot fail to be interested. You need things to interest you these days, don't you?" Mr. Hammond spoke abruptly. Tory considered that his manner was kinder and he showed more interest in Kara than upon the day when he had come to the old Gray House to seek the little girl he had rescued years before. Then he had been fascinated by Lucy and Kara had been disregarded. Kara looked up now with slightly more animation. "Yes, I do need something to interest me these days, Mr. Hammond. I am afraid you will find me pretty difficult. Only a few weeks ago I cared so intensely for our summer camp in Beechwood Forest and every one of our Girl Scout occupations that nothing else appeared of the slightest importance. Now when everyone is so good to me I don't seem interested in anything. There are so many Scout subjects I could study when I have so much time and I don't care to take the trouble. I really am stronger perhaps than I pretend to be." Kara's tone was so unhappy and listless that Mr. Hammond's agreeable face clouded. "Your state of mind is due to the fact that you have not recovered from the shock of your fall. You won't feel like that always, sure not to, a girl with the courage and good sense you have always revealed. Still, what I am going to tell you is obliged to stir you up. I don't believe you will object to the other Girl Scouts hearing what I tell you. You are such devoted friends. "Ever since I entered this pretty room I have experienced an odd sensation connected with it. Somehow it seemed associated with you. This may not appear remarkable, the room is now your sanctuary and I am sure everything in it is for your service. But that is not what I have in mind. "I was haunted by an almost forgotten impression. As I drove up to the cabin this afternoon, I felt that I had been in this vicinity before. Here something unusual had taken place which had left a strong impression upon me. I felt this more keenly when I entered this room, although I never beheld any other room so gay and pretty and filled with so many girls. "The room was not always like this, Kara. You Girl Scouts must have seen the room a little as I beheld it a number of years ago, when you chose this spot for your summer camping grounds. "Did I not once confide to you, Kara, that I discovered a tiny little girl in a deserted farmhouse when I was a young man, riding along a lane in this neighborhood? It looked more like an abandoned farm in those days to a man who knew extraordinarily little about farms. Perhaps the little house was never anything more than a cabin in the woods, with farmlands in the neighborhood. If so, they have vanished. Do you recall, Kara, the little girl I discovered and who she afterwards turned out to be?" At last Tory Drew felt her senses returning, and at the same time an impulse to action. During Mr. Hammond's rambling story she had remained quiet, listening and yet all the time knowing its conclusion. Previously Dr. McClain had impressed upon her the fact that Kara had been found in the little house in which she was living at present. If Mr. Hammond had once called the cabin a farmhouse, Dr. McClain had always been certain of its identity. It was the doctor's opinion that Kara must not for the present be excited or disturbed by any reference to this fact. At last Tory was aware that she should have spoken sooner, that any protest from her at present would come too late. With all her listlessness vanished Kara was leaning forward, her eyes on the speaker, while the other Girl Scouts appeared almost equally interested. CHAPTER XII RETROSPECTION "Now that I look back, the room seems to have been extraordinarily clean under the circumstances, although it was bare and poor," Mr. Hammond continued. "There was just a bed and some chairs and a table. You were lying on the bed, Kara, and if you had objected to being left alone, you were perfectly agreeable and sweet tempered after I made your acquaintance. I remember you were extremely amiable during our ride together into Westhaven. You gave me an impression which I still carry with me that you would meet most situations with grace and good sense." Mr. Hammond began wandering about the room. He appeared embarrassed by the intensity of Kara's attitude and the conviction that possibly he had not chosen a wise time or place for his revelation. In fact, he had no intention of speaking of the matter at all. Surprise at finding himself a visitor to the girl in the same spot where he had discovered her as a baby had influenced his discretion. "Is there anything else you could tell me, Mr. Hammond? You need not regret having spoken before the other girls. They are my friends and really know as much of my history as I know, there is so little information I have ever received." "No, I am afraid not, Kara, I am sorry. Now and then I have considered that possibly we did not make a sufficiently thorough investigation. Yet I do not honestly believe this. At the time I searched the room thoroughly. I waited, thinking that in all probability some one would come back for you. Then, when I gave up this idea and took you with me to Westhaven, we did not fail in making another effort. "Dr. McClain, I recall, insisted upon this and we came out here together. Moreover, we left a letter stating that if any one desired to find you, information could be had of Dr. McClain in Westhaven." "There does not seem to be any doubt, no one ever did return and no one ever wished to find me. I have always thought, almost hoped that my mother and father were dead," Kara answered. No one else had spoken during the grave and dramatic conversation between Kara and Mr. Hammond. In fact, Kara herself had said little. Now her words affected the room filled with her friends with a sense of tragedy. Tory Drew moved near the other girl, standing beside her in a defensive attitude, as if disaster must first meet her before it could again touch the friend so dear to her. Mrs. Hammond took Lucy's hand in her own, attempting to draw the little girl toward the open door. Some day she hoped that Lucy might altogether forget the Gray House and think of herself as her own and Mr. Hammond's child. At last Sheila Mason had ceased her talk with Mr. Fenton and Miss Frean. She turned toward the center of the room, looking as if she wished to ask Mr. and Mrs. Hammond to say farewell. Then the interest in Kara's face and in Mr. Hammond's words forbade the interruption. Memory Frean had come into the room and Mr. Richard Fenton stood immediately behind her. He was watching Tory. "I am afraid I have said too much or too little and perhaps tired or worried you, Kara. If you like, suppose we have a long, quiet talk some day alone. I'll come again to see you and we can go out into the woods together." Conscious of the atmosphere and of his own imprudence, Mr. Hammond picked up his hat and stick which he had placed upon a table. Again his own interest in the situation became stronger than other impressions. Walking toward Kara's chair, he pushed the chair a few feet nearer the wall. Without explaining his purpose he moved aside a rug which lay on the floor and struck the boards with his cane. "Has this floor ever been taken up and a new one laid down?" he inquired, apparently of Victoria Drew, who chanced to be standing nearer than any one else. Tory shook her head. "I don't think so. The floor was in extremely good condition when we decided to make this cabin the center of our camp in Beech wood Forest." "The bed stood just here," Mr. Hammond indicated with his walking stick the exact spot where Kara's chair had been the moment before. "I have always felt we should have had this floor removed. Kara, if you will give me permission, when the summer camping days have passed, I should like to undertake it. There isn't one chance in a thousand we should come across anything, but it would be worth while to try, would it not?" Kara's expression made no other answer necessary. A few moments after the Hammonds had said farewell and were gone. An instant it appeared as if Lucy wished to break away and speak to Kara. The other girl never glanced toward her, or seemed conscious of her presence after her first display of affection, so apparently Lucy lost the desire or the courage. Immediately the Girl Scouts departed for their sleeping tents accompanied by their Troop Captain. Miss Mason would return to say good-night to Kara and see that she was comfortable for the night. In the meantime there was the final evening ceremony with her Girl Scouts. In the big room at present were only Tory, Miss Frean and Mr. Fenton, save for the girl in the wheeled chair. Mr. Fenton approached Kara. "I trust so many visitors and so much excitement will not be harmful to you," he said in the dignified fashion that always charmed Kara and his own niece. Mr. Fenton never addressed them as if they were merely young girls and of no special importance. Always his manner was courtly and agreeable. Toward Kara he extended a box of candy which he had been carrying under his arm. "I know candy is to a large extent a forbidden fruit at camp. But as you are a kind of uncrowned queen these days, Kara, I thought you might be permitted to offer a sweet now and then to your ladies in waiting." During this conversation Tory had crossed over to Miss Frean, persuading her to be seated on a low bench and sitting down beside her. "I was deeply offended with you, Memory, an hour ago when you held a 'mirror up to nature,' my nature. I detest being lectured. Just the same, I promise to try not to bore Kara too much with my society and to give the other girls more opportunity. But dear me, I did think I was doing the right thing! Often I have wanted dreadfully to go off on our Scouting expeditions and have remained at camp because I thought Kara needed me and did not wish the other girls to be sacrificed. It does require an extraordinary number of virtues to be a good Scout." Memory Frean shook her head. "I don't believe I would put the case in just that fashion, Tory. To be a good Scout demands first of all common sense. You have the artistic temperament, Tory, and common sense is perhaps more difficult for you. Glad you are willing to be friends again." Memory Frean and Mr. Richard Fenton walked back together to the House in the Woods. They had not been alone with each other in more than twenty years. CHAPTER XIII A PORTRAIT Several days later Tory Drew, accompanied by two other of her Troop of Girl Scouts, went forth to spend the morning sketching, not far from their camp. Her companions were Edith Linder and Martha Greaves, the English Girl Guide, who was her guest. Personally Tory felt considerable embarrassment concerning her own neglect of the young English girl who had been left dependent in a measure upon her interest and friendliness. She had not intended any rudeness or indifference. Her greater interest and affection for Katherine Moore had dominated all other ideas and emotions. Even before Miss Frean's lecture Tory had suffered an occasional moment of self-reproach. However, only within the past twenty-four hours had she talked over the situation frankly and openly with Martha and offered an apology. It was delightful to have discovered her to be altogether sensible and agreeable. Apparently the young English Girl Guide had understood and accepted the circumstances. She not only failed to express any show of resentment at Tory's unintentional disregard of her, she appeared not to feel any resentment. "It has all been a wonderful experience for me, the opportunity this summer to meet and know so many American Girl Scouts," she explained. "Nor has it been possible to feel either lonely or neglected. The other girls have been so friendly and interested. They have talked to me of your devotion to Kara and told me something of Kara's difficult life. I would not have you give up an hour when she needs you to look after me." Tory was thinking of this and of other characteristics of the English girl, as she sat idly holding her sketch book open in her lap, a drawing pencil in her hand. Martha and Edith had gone over into one of the fields to look for mushrooms. As Edith had spent the greater part of her life on a small farm, she possessed a good deal of practical outdoor knowledge which the other Girl Scouts were endeavoring to acquire through books and teachers. Particularly was the English Girl Guide interested in learning all that was possible in one brief summer concerning the American woods and fields. Now and then they appeared oddly unlike her own green and fragrant country with its miles of cultivated gardens and carefully trimmed hedges. Martha and Edith were especially friendly. Tory was possessed of sufficient knowledge of the world to appreciate this fact as indicating an unusual sweetness and poise upon the part of their English visitor. Obviously Edith Linder came of simple people. Her father and mother had been poor farmers and were now working in a factory in Westhaven. Edith made no pretense of anything else and had not received a great deal of education. She had learned much from her winter with Miss Frean, and was learning through her summer with her Troop of Girl Scouts. Nevertheless, there were ways in which she revealed the difference in her past circumstances from the lives of most of the Girl Scouts with whom she was associated at present. To Martha, Edith's lack of social training must have been especially conspicuous. Martha had been reared in a careful fashion. Her family had been wealthy before the war and owners of a large estate. Nevertheless the English Girl Guide accepted Edith's efforts toward self-improvement and her evident desire to make friends with perfect tact and good breeding. Tory knew that social distinctions were more seriously regarded in England than the United States. She concluded if ever the moment were propitious to inquire of Martha if the Girl Guides represented an effort toward real Democracy in the sense the American Girl Scouts trusted that they represented the same purpose. At length Tory took up her pencil and began drawing. She was seated in an open place in the woods not far from their dancing ground within the circle of giant beech trees. Later in the day Evan Phillips' mother was to give the Girl Scouts of the Eagle's Wing their first lesson in outdoor dancing. The thought of this in prospect interrupted Tory's effort. With an impatient gesture she picked up the paper upon which she was working and tearing it into bits flung the pieces to the winds. Her father insisted that she draw from still life and she had been using a distant tree as her model. Is there anything in the world more difficult to represent with its dignity, grace and beneficence than a tree? At this instant Tory certainly was convinced there was not. Half unconsciously her pencil began indicating the figure of a girl in various attitudes. For years, whenever left to her own devices, Tory had amused herself in this fashion. However crude her drawings of human figures, since she was a tiny girl they had in them a suggestion of life and action. A noise, apparently coming from behind a clump of bushes not far off, distracted the artist's attention. Tory raised her eyes. Beyond the bushes she thought she beheld some one move. "Martha, Edith!" she called out. At first there was no reply. The second call brought a response. From farther away Martha and Edith halloed in Girl Scout fashion. Again Tory returned to her work, having now acquired the impression that she was no longer alone. Once more she looked suddenly around. A figure behind the clump of shrubs undoubtedly stirred. Rising, Tory walked in that direction. She had not moved more than a few feet when the intruder, aware of discovery, came toward her. A small figure Tory beheld dressed in a pale green linen frock, crumpled and torn. The large leghorn hat had a band of green velvet ribbon encircling it. In one hand she bore a small yellow leather suit case. "Why, Lucy, what in the world does this mean? Are you by yourself? Do Mr. or Mrs. Hammond know where you are?" "No, you may tell them," the little girl answered calmly. "I am on my way to Kara. I am going to take her back to the Gray House or somewhere else, where we can be alone. I hated Kara sitting still in a chair and never moving and all of you keeping me from her." "Then you do care for Kara?" Tory demanded, putting her arms about the picturesque little figure. Coldly but politely Lucy drew away. "Care? What do you mean? Do you mean do I love Kara? Why, I don't really like anyone else very well except Kara and perhaps Billy and now Mr. and Mrs. Hammond. Mrs. Hammond says I must be more devoted to her than any one else, but I'm not truly, now that I know Kara is ill." "You have run away, haven't you, Lucy? I am sure I don't know how you ever got this far without some one stealing you. You are the most delightful looking child I ever beheld. Come and sit down for awhile and rest and eat some sandwiches. I know you ran away before breakfast and must be hungry and tired. Afterwards I'll take you to Kara." A creative impulse had seized hold of Tory. More than anything she could imagine at the moment she longed to make a sketch of Lucy, of the little figure in the pale green gown against the deeper background of green, the big hat hanging behind her shoulders. The child's cheeks were a vivid rose, her dark hair still in the stiff aureole that was unlike other children's. But it was not the color that Tory wished to represent. That would have to come later. She must try to catch the grace of the small figure, sitting serenely on the ground a few feet from her munching sandwiches. Tory would have preferred that her portrait model be engaged in some other occupation. But this made no special difference. By and by Lucy stopped eating and Tory, fascinated, went on with her drawing. CHAPTER XIV DISAGREEMENTS The decision to take part with the Boy Scouts in the presentation of the Greek pageant representing the adventures of Odysseus was largely brought about through Mr. Richard Fenton's interest. He it was who finally persuaded the Troop Captain, Sheila Mason, to give her consent. Of chief importance was her point of view, since she must be responsible for her own Girl Scouts. For many years Mr. Fenton had been an enthusiastic Greek scholar. To him it appeared more than ordinarily worth while to stimulate among the Boy Scouts and the Girl Scouts an interest in the historic legends of the past. In his estimation the history of Greece was of greater importance than any other nation. In the history of Greece one finds the model of the first known Democratic government in the world and according to many historians the best. The outdoor life of the American Scouts, planned to develop them mentally and physically, to make better citizens and wiser men and women, had its counterpart in the lives of the early Greeks, centered about their Olympian games. A series of tableaux, accompanied by a recitation of the story of one of the two great Homeric poems, would not alone broaden the outlook of the young people who took part. Mr. Fenton had a shrewd idea that it would awaken among the older people in Westhaven a wider vision of beauty. Like most small towns, Westhaven was too self-centered. Mr. Fenton did not wish the little New England village to share in the opprobrium of "Main Street." Why was it not a portion of the work of the Scouts to bring fresh ideals of beauty and romance into their own environments? Mr. Richard Fenton considered this an important part of their service. To-day, seated with the fourteen Girl Scouts in a circle about her, Sheila Mason was wondering if she had not been more idealistic than practical. The girls were in their own council chamber in Beech wood Forest. No one else was within sight or hearing. The story of the "Odyssey" lay open in Sheila Mason's lap. Katherine Moore, in her wheeled chair, held another copy. Bending over her, reading from the same pages, were Margaret Hale and Louise Miller. A few feet away Tory Drew and Dorothy McClain were writing on large sheets of paper the instructions that were offered them from time to time. Teresa Peterson, slipping her handkerchief to her eyes, was wiping away an uncomfortable moisture. Her cheeks were deeply flushed and her lips tremulous. Lucy Martin sat contentedly on a cushion at Kara's feet. She had not been permitted to bear away the other girl as she had planned. However, she was allowed to stay on with the Girl Scouts in their camp for a visit which made her equally content. To Mr. and Mrs. Hammond she had explained that she could not leave for two reasons. Kara needed her and Tory was making a picture of her. Either reason she considered sufficient. Apparently Mr. and Mrs. Hammond had agreed for the present. "I believe, although the boys have left the final choice with us, that it will be best to follow their selection of characters," Margaret Hale remarked. The Troop Captain looked up from her book, first toward Teresa and then Margaret. "I do not see what else is possible under the circumstances. We are to make two or three changes, but they are not important ones. I am sorry Teresa is disappointed. She insists that Lance originally suggested to her she could represent Penelope, so I presume she has built upon the idea. Yet it does seem more appropriate for Joan Peters to play the part of the famous lady with the web, the wife of Odysseus. There is no question, Teresa, of your not acting as well, but this is scarcely a question of acting, but of appearing to the best advantage in the series of tableaux. And Joan does look more like one's conception of Penelope than you. Except for Lance McClain's suggestion to you, and he should not have expressed an opinion without consulting the others, the choice has always been between Dorothy McClain and Joan. The majority finally decided in favor of Joan because Donald McClain is to appear as Odysseus and Don and Dorothy are brother and sister. Perhaps there would be less illusion in having them represent a husband and wife." "I suppose it is because Joan is taller and her features more regular and she is prettier, that she was chosen to play Penelope," Teresa murmured in an injured tone and with such a gentle suggestion of melancholy, that Joan Peters appeared extremely uncomfortable. "I don't see it that way, Teresa, and I am perfectly willing to give up in your favor if the others will agree. Of course it is ridiculous to talk of any question of beauty having been considered. You know you are absurdly pretty, Teresa, and are merely trying to make some one say so," Joan remarked, half serious and half amused. As a matter of fact, she was not enthusiastic over being chosen for one of the principal parts in the Greek tableaux. She was not particularly popular with the Boy Scouts. The boys liked half a dozen of the other girls better, although Tory Drew, Dorothy McClain and Teresa were the chief favorites. "See here, Teresa, don't be tiresome. If we were all to object as you do to the casting of the characters we will never get anywhere and spend the entire day in argument. Everybody knows I think it the greatest mistake in the world not to have had Dorothy in the leading rôle. Still, I am saying very little and apologize to Joan for what I have said," Louise Miller protested. "So let us get on with what we are trying to accomplish. Remember, we are to meet the boys and Mr. Fenton this afternoon and choose the place for our poetic drama." Frequently Louise Miller was too impatient with Teresa's small frailties, her love of pleasure and admiration. This was hardly fair because of the difference in their temperaments making any sympathy between them almost impossible. "Well there is one person whom we all agree to be the ideal choice," Dorothy McClain remarked, hoping to turn the conversation into more agreeable channels. She had been sitting on the ground weaving a chaplet of beech leaves. Rising up now she placed it like a crown on Kara's brow. "Behold Athena, the wise Goddess with the clear gray eyes!" A little silence descended upon the group of girls. Kara flushed. "It is the kindest and most ridiculous thing in the world to have _me_ take part when I cannot stir from this chair. I don't want to seem unappreciative. I'm not really, you know, but do please explain to the Boy Scouts that they must realize it is out of the question," Kara argued. "No, dear, we are not going to bring up that question again. Lance and Don and Jack Hardin told you that their entire Troop of Scouts wished you to play the 'Goddess of Wisdom.' The tableaux are to be arranged so you need not appear but once. Then you are to be seated upon a throne as Pallas Athena should be. You know how we all feel on the subject. Surely you do not wish to disappoint everyone," Tory protested. She was wondering if the other girls had observed what she had. In these days of discussion of the Greek tableaux Kara had appeared brighter and more like her former self. Now and then even a glimpse of the old humor showed in the depth of her gray eyes or about the corners of her of late too serious lips. "Tory has expressed what we all feel, Kara," Miss Mason added. "Now, Tory, please read aloud the list of the characters so far as they have been decided upon. I am delighted to know that the father of the Boy Scouts has agreed to be with us on the evening of the tableaux and will read selections from the Odyssey as the pictures are presented." Tory glanced toward the paper in her lap. "Donald McClain will be Odysseus; Lance McClain, his son, Telemachus; Joan Peters, Penelope; Victoria Drew, the Princess Nausicaa; Mr. Richard Fenton, Eumaeus, the aged servant of the Greek hero. The other Girl Scouts will be the ladies in waiting to Penelope and the Boy Scouts Penelope's suitors. "I had forgotten to write down that Margaret Hale will be Arete and Jack Hardin the good King Alcinous, my respected parents. I am glad they assisted the wanderer to end his adventures and return to his faithful Penelope. "Just as well that we decided to start our tableaux with the arrival of the hero on the island of the Sea Kings! I fear it would have taxed even our talents to have shown the enchanted spots where Odysseus was held enslaved by Calypso with the beautiful hair, who sang sweetly as she wove at her loom with the golden shuttle, or Circe, the sorceress, who mixed the drink in a golden cup that turned men into swine. Representing these Goddesses would have taxed our powers. Except for Kara we are only mortals." Tory rose up. "May I start with Kara to our dancing grounds? It may take me some time and Mrs. Phillips is to arrive in less than an hour for our first dance rehearsal. I have an idea, or perhaps a hope, that our Greek dance which Evan is to lead, will be one of the most beautiful, beautiful things that has ever been seen in Westhaven." Tory reached Kara's chair, but at the same time Dorothy McClain pushed her gently away. "Margaret and I are going to take turns in pushing Kara's chair to our dancing grounds. We have already made an engagement with her to that effect. Please remember we are both stronger persons than you, and Kara will arrive far more speedily and safely." Tory appreciated that Dorothy was jesting, nevertheless, she bit her lips and frowned. Kara's hand reached around and took hold of hers. "You'll come along with us, won't you, Tory? I know I am selfish, but I do hate being separated from you. If there is time before Mrs. Phillips arrives why not attempt another sketch of Lucy? We thought the first sketch you made of her wonderful, even if you were not pleased." In the last few days Tory had quietly been following Memory Frean's advice and allowing the other Girl Scouts to share in the care of Kara. As a consequence they did seem to feel more pleasure in being together. But then for more than one reason Kara was in a better state of mind. CHAPTER XV THE CHOICE At four o'clock in the afternoon Mr. Fenton sent a large motor car to the Girl Scout camp to bear Kara, Miss Mason, Lucy Martin and any other girls who chose to ride to the place under discussion as the site to be chosen for the Greek pageant. The spot lay midway between the two camps. Earlier in the afternoon Miss Frean had started off with the girls who preferred the hike. Walking steadily without pausing for rest, before the others they arrived at the proposed place. When the signal was given to halt, Tory Drew dropped down on the ground and in the fashion supposed to be best for meditation sat looking about her. Several of the other girls followed her example, while Miss Frean remained standing with three or four companions. They preferred to command a wider view of their surroundings. They had reached the source of the stream of water which ended in the small lake before the camp in Beechwood Forest. Here the water was fairly deep but the stream of no great width. On one side was a small clearing with a grove of trees not far away. Where the Girl Scouts stood at present the open space was larger. A dozen yards away a country road connected with the state road that ran through the village of Westhaven. Beyond were a rim of blue hills. "I would not be surprised if we conclude this is the proper location," Miss Frean said reflectively. "There is the disadvantage of being so far from Westhaven. We shall have to transport the scenery and costumes out here and make arrangements for the audience to be seated. Yet the place itself is rarely lovely." Tory looked at her beseechingly. "The place is ideal. Please don't say a word against it. Uncle Richard insists that the early Greeks possessed a greater love of the beautiful than we possess. Yet surely this spot would have pleased them! "Our tableaux can be shown on the other side of the water. The audience can be seated on this side. The distance will add to the illusion. The Palace of Odysseus with the courtyard in front where most of the scenes will take place, can be constructed in front of the grove of trees. Odysseus can land on what is supposed to be the island of the Sea-Kings from a Greek galley rowed up the stream. And I shall appear with my maidens who come down to the banks to wash the imperial clothes of my royal family. Until the moment to appear before the audience the players can be concealed beyond the trees." Closing her eyes and clasping her hands ecstatically together, Tory exclaimed: "Can you not see the entire scene, the beauty and glamour, what Uncle Richard calls the Greek spirit that we are to portray?" Joan Peters laughed and shook her head. "No, Tory dear, I am afraid not. We cannot all see it, although I must only speak for myself. Can't you appreciate that we are not all possessed of the artistic temperament and gifted with the power of seeing visions? I am a humdrum person who has to be shown." Joan moved away to join another group. "Tory, yours is a fortunate gift, I am not pretending to deny it. There are times when I envy you. Still, dear, some of us before we can behold the completed masterpiece, are obliged to consider how we can get a sufficient number of chairs out here to permit the audience to be seated comfortably," Memory Frean interposed. The girl looked at her half challengingly. "I am not so unpractical as you may think. Uncle Richard and I drove out here a few days ago and discussed the very problem of how to seat our audience. He promised to have any number of chairs sent out at his expense. We can guess the number required by the tickets we shall sell. I have an idea our audience will be very large. After paying for our costumes and scenery there will still be a good deal of money to be divided between the Boy Scout Troop and our own." "A noteworthy conclusion, Tory. I am glad you have made the necessary decisions and arrangements without waiting for the other arrivals. A confusion of tongues just adds to a confusion of ideas," Lance McClain remarked, jumping from his bicycle and unexpectedly joining the small group. Apparently he had ridden on ahead of his Scout Troop. He turned now and greeted Miss Frean. Then he came over toward Tory. "I don't wish to be teased, Lance. Of course I have not made any decision and nothing positive can be decided until the vote is taken. I have only been entertaining myself by dreaming that this is to be the chosen site. I can see a mental picture that is very wonderful." Lance shook his head and laughed. "I am not wishing to be disagreeable, Tory. Of course this is the ideal spot. It takes you and me to recognize the fact." For some reason neither of them understood, Victoria Drew and Lance McClain usually argued unimportant issues and agreed upon the important ones. From a little distance beyond, the rest of the Boy Scout Troop could now be seen approaching. "Yes, Don will be here in a little while, Tory. Don't you and Dorothy worry. I rode over because the camp doctor thought I wasn't in very good shape. I am not in high favor at camp at present, so I thought I'd do what I was told on this occasion," Lance remarked. Only three girls were sufficiently near at this instant to overhear his speech, Tory, Dorothy McClain and Louise Miller. The other girls and Miss Frean had moved over to meet the advancing Troop. "What are you talking about, Lance? What have you done of late to break the camp discipline? If you don't care for your own sake, I think you might consider how much Don and I care for your Scout record. It was enough for you to have originated the ridiculous excursion that resulted in the trouble between your Troop and our own that has lasted until now. Please, please don't get into any more mischief." In Dorothy's tone there was something maternal. Lance alone of all her brothers called forth this spirit in her. "Sister of mine, you take me too seriously. I have only wandered off from camp now and then for a stroll in the woods. I am obliged to meditate. I have not broken any of the commandments. It is my misfortune to be unlike other people. You have told me this a good many times. So perhaps I am frequently misunderstood." Lance's tone was so indifferent and teasing that Dorothy was seriously annoyed. "I don't mind if Louise and Tory do hear what I have been wanting a chance to say to you, Lance. You had no right to tell Teresa Peterson that she would be chosen to play the part of Penelope in our Greek tableaux. She has been dreadfully disappointed and it has made things hard for all of us." "Teresa Peterson to play Penelope! Who says I made any such suggestion, Dorothy? Teresa looks more like a pretty doll than the model of Greek faithfulness and propriety." Dorothy looked puzzled. "Teresa told me herself, Lance. She told me she had met you two or three times by accident and you had talked to each other for a little while. She seemed to feel she ought to speak of it to me and to Miss Mason. Teresa is a dear, but she isn't as clever as some of the other girls and I don't think you would ever care to be very intimate friends. She never could understand you as Tory and Louise do. You did tell Teresa she was to be chosen for Penelope, didn't you?" Lance whistled. "I suppose so, if she insists upon it." "Well, I wish you would stick to one story or the other, Lance," Dorothy protested, moving away with Tory Drew and leaving her brother and Louise Miller together. "I suppose there are not many things I would not forgive you, but I never should forgive your not being truthful." Lance and Louise remained silent a few moments after the others had departed. Reproachfully Louise studied the thin, eager face. "Lance, I can guess it is in your code to protect a girl by telling a half truth. I suppose Teresa somehow got the impression she was to be chosen for Penelope without your having said so. She is a vain little thing. But what I want to say is, please never hurt Dorothy in order to protect anyone else. Perhaps she is only your sister, but she hates deceit more than anything in the world, and you know how devoted she is to you." Lance frowned. "See here, Louise, I'm not in the habit of telling fibs, so don't preach. I am not going to have Teresa suffer any more criticism from the rest of you girls. I have met her a few times and we have talked. She seemed to think perhaps it was a mistake as long as our two camps were not friendly, so I am glad she has spoken of the fact to Dorothy and Miss Mason. I wasn't going to say anything first. "You need not worry over Dorothy and me, Ouida. We have our scraps now and then, but there isn't another girl I think holds a candle to her at present, not even you or Tory. "By the way, we ought to be special friends. We are both 'different,' and no one ever really likes being. Dorothy says you have got some queer idea in your head that you would like to be a naturalist. That is almost as good as my wishing to be a musician, when we both have our own livings to earn, the sooner the better for ourselves and families. We aren't all Tory Drews in this world!" Louise's earnest pale gray eyes with their dark lashes were staring intently at her companion. "I agree with the first part of your speech, Lance, but I really don't understand what you mean about Tory," she returned. "Don't you? Well, nothing important. Only Tory is one of the people who has talent and charm and things are going to be fairly easy for her compared to you and me. When the time comes for her to study art she will have her chance. Most people are fond of her. At present in our family old Don and father will do pretty much anything she asks. So I thought maybe you and I might be kind of special friends, Ouida. I may probably get into a scrape some day and not know the best way out and want your help." "You can always count on me, Lance, if for no other reason than because you are Dorothy's favorite brother," Louise answered simply. Observing that Miss Mason's car had arrived and several others, Lance and Louise moved toward the newcomers. Three members of the Boy Scout Council and three other members of the girls had driven out with Mr. Fenton. It was rare in the history of the Scout movement that the girls and boys should take part in the same entertainment and the subject was being seriously considered. CHAPTER XVI THE GREEK SPIRIT "What is the Greek spirit, Mr. Fenton?" During one of the rehearsals for the presentation of Odysseus, Lance McClain made this inquiry. No one else among the group of boys and girls surrounding Mr. Fenton at the moment would have asked the question. Yet, overhearing Lance, a number of them stood waiting for the answer. The weeks of outdoor work and study had awakened new ideas and interests. Mr. Fenton did not reply immediately; instead, he appeared to be considering the question deeply. Frequently he had talked of the Greek spirit. Therefore, what did he actually mean? "I am glad you put that query to me, Lance," he returned finally. "Half a dozen times since we began our rehearsals I have spoken of the 'Greek spirit.' I have emphasized the wish that we reveal it in the presentation of our tableaux. One ought not to talk glibly and be unable to offer a simple definition. "At least I can tell you what the 'Greek spirit' means to me and why I want us to give expression to it in our pageant. "Try not to be bored if I discuss the subject seriously for a few moments. You know I have been a student, not a speaker, all my life, and there are times when we all wish for the gift of tongues." Observing that Mr. Fenton was addressing not Lance alone who had asked the question, but the crowd of young people nearby, Memory Frean and Sheila Mason, Captain Curtis and several others came and stood on the edge of the crowd. This afternoon they were together on the side of the stream of water where the tableaux would be presented. In nearly every detail Tory had been correct in her original conception. The pageant would be presented in the clear green space with the grove of shadowy trees as background. Across the water the audience were to be seated in a natural outdoor auditorium. On a slight elevation of land near the stream the Father of the Scouts, who had promised to appear for the evening's entertainment, would read aloud portions of the Odyssey. This afternoon, however, the Scouts were busy building and arranging details of the outdoor scenery. It must be as simple as possible to serve their purpose. Observing the crowd gathering about Mr. Richard Fenton, the builders also stopped their toil to join the others. A rare experience had come to Mr. Fenton late in life, and although she never realized the fact, Tory Drew was chiefly responsible. Almost as a recluse Mr. Fenton had spent the years of his middle age. He was under the impression that he was not sympathetic with most people and that they did not care for him. With a sufficient fortune for his needs, he had not found it necessary to engage in an occupation for the sake of making money. Therefore he had devoted most of his time to study and thought. The result had not brought him a deep satisfaction. In his young manhood he had not planned this kind of existence. He had contemplated being a public man, a statesman should he reveal the necessary ability. In those days he had been young and meant to make Memory Frean proud of him. They had separated and he had sought consolation among his books. Then into his own and his sister's well regulated lives Tory had entered the winter before. She was not Tory to them then, but Victoria Drew, as Miss Victoria Fenton still insisted upon calling her niece. To Mr. Fenton the young girl had made an unconscious appeal. Lonely and feeling herself out of place in a new and strange environment, she appeared like a gay little tropical bird or flower transferred to a harsher environment. When he and Tory became friends the coldness of the old maid and old bachelor establishment changed to a pleasanter warmth. Introduced to her girl friends, Mr. Fenton had become a member of their Scout Council. But not until this summer had he developed into their chief mentor, and fairy godfather. Now to his surprise, added to his other unsought honors, he found himself the director of the Greek pageant, one of the performers as well, and far more popular with his fellow-players than he yet appreciated. Daily they were coming to him with their problems and their ambitions. As yet their confidences related only to the approaching performance. Lance's question was more general than any other that had been propounded. While Mr. Fenton was replying he looked at Lance with more interest than he had felt in the boy before. If no one else understood what he was endeavoring to make plain, he believed that Tory and Lance would catch the import of his words. "Among the nations the Greeks are rarely fortunate," Mr. Fenton began. "They left us such inheritances that we have remembered their great days; with other nations we are too apt to recall the years of their decay, their mistakes. "Perhaps one reason for this is that the Greeks were our forefathers, a branch of the Aryan-speaking peoples who in the faint twilight of early history, a nomadic, wandering people, moved southward, and combined with the inhabitants of Crete. This gives us the story of the Odyssey, one of the two great Greek poems, but more filled with legend than the story of the Iliad, which is the siege of Troy." Mr. Fenton paused. "I am not tiring you too much? Still I must go on. We must try as far as we can to understand what we have undertaken to present to others. And I have not yet told you what I mean by the Greek spirit. "It revealed itself even as far back as these two poems. The Greeks were then possessed of two great passions, the love of adventure and the love of beauty. Those two possessions I want to be equally the heritage of the American Girl and Boy Scouts. "Later, in what is known as the Age of Pericles, the Greeks entered into their third ardor, Democracy, the love of freedom. So what I call the Greek spirit is the love and pursuit of these three things: Beauty, Adventure, Freedom. "I might talk longer and you would understand me less well. Understand, there may be danger in these three desires. One must not seek beauty, adventure and freedom at the expense of other people, but in order to share it with others as the Greeks have done. "Now I am through with my lecture, will some one give me a hammer? I'll try to assist Don in building a footstool for one of Penelope's maids. I'm afraid I am no better carpenter than I am lecturer. Do you understand what I have been trying to explain, Lance? We may talk the question over together some other time." Lance nodded. "I think I do understand what it means in regard to the Scouts." A moment he stood dreaming when the others went back to work. Beauty, adventure, freedom, the Scouts were finding in the outdoors during the weeks of their summer camp. At present in front of the grove of trees Mrs. Phillips was starting a rehearsal of the Greek dance that was to form a part of the coming pageant. Fascinated, Lance stood watching. CHAPTER XVII A CLASSIC REVIVAL Only now and then does nature allow us a perfect thing. The day of the presentation of the Greek poem of the Odyssey by the Girl and Boy Scouts was a perfect day. It occurred during the last week in August. Here at the fringe of the deep woods the afternoon was like early September; there was more color, more radiance than one associates with any other month of the year. Beyond the woods the wheat fields were golden, the final growth of the summer gardens a riot of purple and rose and blue. The corn fields having ripened, bent their green maturity to the breezes, the silk of the corn tassels made valiant banners. In the forests the beech trees showed bronze leaves amid the midsummer foliage, the sumach and the woodbine were flaunting the scarlet signals of autumn. Along the road leading from Westhaven to the site in the woods where the Greek pageant would take place, from an early hour in the afternoon motor cars moved back and forth. The first cars transported the players and their costumes and such odds and ends of scenery as had to be attended to at the last. The same cars returned for the families and friends of the actors. Every automobile and carriage the town could spare for the occasion had been commandeered. The interest the town of Westhaven and several neighboring villages displayed in the Greek pageant was beyond the realms of possibility in the original conception of the Girl and Boy Scouts. But the summer was closing. In a short time a good many of the summer residents would be returning to their city homes. The thought of a final entertainment, a final memory of the summer days became inspiring. Moreover, a Greek pageant was unusual presented by groups of American girls and boys. Probably they would make a failure of so ambitious an effort, yet it would be worth while to see. The first arrivals among the audience found several hundred chairs placed in more or less orderly array upon one side of a stream that ran straight as a ribbon along this part of the countryside. Upon an elevation a small platform had been constructed with a table and a chair so banked with golden rod and Michaelmas daisies and green boughs that the wooden outlines were concealed. On the further side of the water was an ingenious structure, half palace and half tent. The walls were of a heavy white canvas, the roof had been made of narrow lattice and this covered with green branches. In front was the court yard of the palace. The furnishings were severely simple, a long bench and a table, a few straight chairs, little more than stools, and painted white to suggest marble. No other paraphernalia of the approaching performance was visible. Now and then a figure appeared from the background of trees, never one of the players, only some assistant bent upon an errand. Not upon the shore-line supposed to represent ancient Greece, but immediately facing the audience waved a giant American flag. On either side were the Scout flags, one bearing the imprint of an eagle's wing, the insignia of the Girl Scouts, the other an elm tree, the flag of the boys. At four o'clock in the afternoon the pageant began. Before that hour not only were the seats filled but a number of people were standing. A guest of honor of the occasion was one of the distinguished men who originated the Scout movement for boys in the United States. Another guest of honor was a member of the National Girl Council, who had come up from the headquarters in New York for no other reason than to be present at the pageant. With simple Scout ceremonies the entertainment opened. A few moments after the applause had subsided, a beautiful resonant voice read aloud the first lines describing the Odyssey: "Sing us the song of the hero, steadfast, skilful and strong, Taker of Troy's high towers who wandered for ten years long Over the perilous waters, through unknown cities of men, Leading his comrades onward, seeking his home again. Sing us the song of the Wanderer, sing us the wonderful song." A moment later slowly rowing down the stream appeared a solitary figure, Odysseus, seated upon a raft to which were fixed sails and a rudder. Before reaching the place along the shore where the boat, built by Odysseus on the island of Calypso, was to land, a storm was supposed to beset the hero. The audience beholds him struggle with the storm and then reach a safe harbor. On the shore he piles up branches and lies down upon a bed of leaves. A short time passes and Odysseus sleeps. This opening scene in the tableaux Donald McClain insisted was the most difficult in the entire program. During the rehearsals he had been possessed by the fear that he would not be able to produce the illusion, so that his audience would not take him seriously. Therefore, the tableaux would begin and end in disaster. Don need not have troubled. Very handsome and heroic he appeared, his dark hair grayed to represent the age of the Greek hero who had wandered so many weary years after the siege of Troy. While Odysseus slumbers the Princess Nausicaa and her maidens come down toward the river. Unaware of the sleeper, they begin washing their clothes in the river and afterwards spread them out to dry in the sun. Victoria Drew, as the Princess Nausicaa, wore a gown of bright blue with a Greek design in silver braid. Her bright red-gold hair was bound in a silver fillet. Her maids were Margaret Hale, Edith Linder, Martha Greaves and Julia Murray. Their costumes were white and crimson, yellow and green. In making a careful study of the costumes worn by the early Greeks, Miss Frean and the Troop Captain had been surprised to find that white did not play so important a part in their dress as they had supposed. Together with their love for the beauty of line and form the Greeks possessed an equal love for color. Nausicaa and her maidens begin a game of ball on the sands. The princess misses the ball and as it rolls into the water she gives a cry that awakes Odysseus. He comes forward and asks Nausicaa's aid. Together they move toward the palace of the Sea-kings, when the first tableau ends. The second scene shows Odysseus seated inside the tent narrating his adventures to the good King Alcinous and his wife, Queen Arete. Again the voice of the interpreter recited further lines from the Greek poem: "Hither, come hither and hearken awhile, Odysseus, far-famed king! No sailor ever has passed this way but has paused to hear us sing. Our song is sweeter than honey, and he that can hear it knows What he never has learnt from another, and has joy before he goes; We know what the heroes bore at Troy in the ten long years of strife We know what happens in all the world, and the secret things of life." A thrill of appreciation and sympathy stirred the larger portion of the audience at the outset of the next tableau. Strangers, slightly puzzled to guess the cause, found that a few hurried words made the situation clearer. Odysseus has sailed from Crete and comes at last to his own land. No change of scenery was possible. The hearers learned from the recitation that he had reached the island of Ithaca. Here his ship was moored in a haven between two steep headlands near a shadowy cave, where the water-fairies come to look after their bees and weave their sea-blue garments on the hanging looms. Odysseus, knowing not that he has reached his home at last, walks up the steep incline from the shore. Here he meets the Goddess of wisdom, Pallas Athena. Contrary to her own judgment Katherine Moore had agreed finally to represent Athena; in spite of the difficulties to be surmounted not to have accepted would have been too ungracious. From beyond in the grove of trees the Goddess advances. She is seated in a chariot drawn by four children. The children wore costumes of white, short skirts to their knees and sandals on their feet. The Goddess herself was clad in white with a wreath of green leaves about her hair. Had the audience been closer she would have appeared a pale and fragile Goddess with wide gray eyes set in a delicate, bravely smiling face. For the old-time Kara had been doing her best to return these days in order to cast no gloom upon the pleasure of her friends. Better for Kara perhaps that the general effect of the tableau was what was desired and not a too apparent view of details! This, however, was not true concerning the little group of children who drew the chariot. So startling was Lucy Martin's beauty that not only the Girl Scouts and their older friends discussed it among themselves, the Boy Scouts, not so apt to notice a little girl's appearance, also spoke of it to one another privately. Fortunately Lucy, in spite of her wilfulness, was not self-conscious. To-day evidently she was thinking not of herself but of Katherine Moore and Billy, her former friends from the Gray House on the Hill. A blond Cupid grown slightly older and thinner, Billy Duncan appeared, with his blond hair and large childish blue eyes and his somewhat expressionless face. Either the performance of the Greek tableaux or the presence of the little girl who had so dominated him during the years they had spent together at the Gray House made Billy dazed and speechless. There was no need, however, that he should use any intelligence save to do what Lucy commanded. Her dark eyes sparkled with a brilliant excitement, her rose cheeks glowed. The stiff aureole of her dark hair made a striking contrast to the whiteness of her childish costume. The other two children were acquaintances of Lucy's from the Gray House and equally ready to do her bidding. So, whatever the others may have believed, Lucy Martin was convinced that she had taken complete charge of Kara's tableau. Watching the little girl, Kara in a measure forgot what she felt to be her own unfitness for her distinguished rôle. Athena touches Odysseus with her magic wand and he changes into an old man, not wishing to be recognized on his return to his own palace. Athena's chariot is then drawn back into the grove of trees and Odysseus, now disguised as a beggar, once more sets out for his home. The Goddess has presented him with a worn coat which he places over his former costume. The tableaux did not consume any length of time, scarcely longer than it requires in the telling, nevertheless the entire drama of Odysseus could not be unfurled in a single afternoon's pageant. The meeting of Odysseus with the faithful steward, Eumaeus, played by Mr. Fenton, was presented without the details one finds in the story. Immediately after the son of Odysseus, Telemachus, makes his appearance. Neither Lance McClain nor Donald had ever acted until to-day. They had both been fearful that playing together would have its drawbacks, as one is inclined to be more nervous and critical with regard to one's own family. Actually the brothers were more surprised by each other than they could have surprised their audience. The change in costume, the gray in his hair, the lines of makeup on his handsome boyish face, gave Donald a look of maturity, while Lance's slenderness and the fact that he was several inches smaller carried with it the necessary suggestion of graceful youth. Together the father and son set forth to their home, crowded with the suitors who, believing Odysseus dead, have come to seek the hand of Penelope. Instead of going directly to the palace they retire toward the woods to suggest a lapse of time. So far the Greek tableaux had been dominated by single figures, chiefly the hero of the poem. Now a change occurs. In the courtyard before the palace Penelope is seen to appear accompanied by her maidens. A serene and stately Penelope robed in ivory and gold, her ash-brown hair braided and coiled low on her neck, a gold band in her hair, Joan Peters had never looked so handsome. About her the troop of maidens like a swarm of brilliant, many-colored flowers. They moved from the yard and onto a broad space of ground untouched by tree or shrub. Here the grass had been closely cut so that it formed a velvet greensward. Penelope stands in the background and her maidens advance. They were sixteen in number and represented the four seasons. As Kara's illness made it impossible for her to be of their number, the sixteen girls were not alone Girl Scouts from the camp in Beechwood Forest. Four of them were gowned in white, four in pale green, four in blue and four in scarlet. Their costumes were like the simple, flowing draperies of the Greek dancing girls seen upon the friezes of the ancient Parthenon at Athens. Carefully Mrs. Phillips had made a study of every detail of Greek dancing and costuming. Anxious to impress the people of Westhaven with her ability as a teacher of dancing, she appreciated that no such opportunity as the present one would be offered her again. Evan Phillips was to lead the Greek Dance of the Four Seasons; one of the dancers representing winter, she was dressed in white and silver. Advancing, the entire line made a streak of rainbow beauty upon the farther edge of the silver stream of water. The line recedes, forming a crescent about the solitary dancer. Then Evan danced alone. Her dancing was a series of graceful gestures, of movements of her arms and postures of her body, not toe dancing or a skilful employment of her feet, such as we associate with modern dancing. In the midst of her dancing she summons the four seasons to advance. Winter comes first. They seem to be blown forward by a gust of winter wind that sets them dancing and shivering forward. Supposedly the snow falls and their arms, partly covered by delicate white draperies, are raised as a shield. The sun shines, the snow melts and they move backward to give place to the birth of spring, the four Girl Scouts in shimmering green costumes. The dance of the Spring recalled Evan Phillips' dance of the young beech trees, save that it was more stately. As far as possible her mother had adapted her idea to the Greek model. Summer follows spring and the dance suggests the blossoming of the flowers. The scarlet succeeds the blue and autumn comes with its portents of flying leaves and birds moving southward. The dance ends and for the first time the audience broke into enthusiastic applause. Nothing so beautiful had ever been witnessed in Westhaven! Penelope and her maidens return to the palace. Later Odysseus wanders into his own home, unrecognized by his family and friends. The Girl Scouts composed the household of Penelope, the Boy Scouts found their opportunity as the impatient suitors of the lady Penelope. They remain about her palace, playing at games, feasting and wasting her substance and that of her son, Telemachus. The hour must be near when she shall make up her mind who is to fill the place of her lost husband, Odysseus. In the games that took place the Boy Scouts found their chance to exhibit their prowess in outdoor sports. Penelope fetches the bow and the quiver full of deadly arrows. She then goes to meet the princes, her attendants following carrying the axes. To the suitor who wins at the trial of the bow Penelope vows to give herself in marriage. Odysseus, with as little trouble as a minstrel fits a new cord to his lyre, bends the mighty bow with an arrow caught up from the table at his side. Even when the bronze-tipped shaft goes clean through twelve axes set up in a row, the blinded Penelope fails to know her lord. The last scene reveals Odysseus, his shabby coat cast aside, his figure no longer bent and aged, a shining hero seated opposite Penelope in the courtyard of his home, united at last after long parting. The Greek tableaux were over. Within a quarter of an hour the audience departed for their homes, the Girl Scouts to their own camp and the boys to theirs on the other side of the hill. Yet not until bed-time was any other subject discussed by the players and their audience than the surprising success of the Greek pageant given that afternoon in the familiar setting of the New England woods. So the beauty of the past held its re-birth in the present. CHAPTER XVIII THE PASSING Outside the opening into her tent Teresa Peterson sat presumably playing upon the banjo. The sounds she was making were not particularly pleasing. Yet the camp was fairly deserted. Only a few of the other girls were to be seen and they were busy and nowhere near Teresa. In fact, the camp in Beechwood Forest would be vacant within the next few days. Summer was closing with the soft loveliness that makes one forgive and forget her less charming moods. Already the evergreen house, which had been the center of the camp life, was being dismantled. Katherine Moore had returned to the Gray House on the Hill. After the performance of the Greek tableaux she had not been so well and Dr. McClain had additional reasons for desiring her presence in town at this time. Impatient always to fulfill his own wishes, no sooner was Mr. Hammond aware of Kara's departure to town than he requested permission to have the floor of the old cabin removed and the search begun. Kara was not to be told of the effort until the work was accomplished. Not one chance in a thousand, Mr. Hammond agreed, that any trace of Kara's past history be located here, therefore she had best not be excited or worried until the task was finished. This afternoon, as Teresa twanged at her banjo strings, she looked oftener than was good for her music at the group of men who were at work in the evergreen cabin. So far they had only started the removal of the old boards. When this was concluded the Girl Scouts had determined to organize the searching parties among themselves. Mr. Hammond would join them; no one else was supposed to feel a sufficiently keen interest in the investigation to be allowed to take part. In spite of her music Teresa observed Lance McClain coming toward the Girl Scout camp when he was still some distance away. He was not wearing his Scout uniform as might have been expected. Even at a distance Lance appeared unlike the other boys. He was smaller than a number of them, more slender and graceful. He had a peculiar carriage of the head. He seemed to bend forward slightly and yet his eyes were nearly always upturned. He apparently did not look at the objects directly in front of him. "Hello, Lance, I am awfully glad to see you! I was feeling dull," Teresa called out. "How did you happen to walk over to camp and not be wearing your uniform? Miss Mason is lying down in her tent; if you like I'll tell her you are here and then you can stay and talk to me, or else I'll play to you." Lance made a funny grimace. "Thanks awfully, Teresa, but I want to see Dorothy for a special reason. I can't stay long. I wonder if you will tell me where I can find her?" Teresa frowned. "I thought you always claimed to be fond of music, Lance, so I don't see why you need be in such a hurry." Again Teresa twanged at her banjo, a little angrily on this occasion, so that the boy's sensitive face twitched. "Oh, for goodness sake don't make that noise, please, Teresa, and don't be annoyed. I'd like to talk to you if I had time. I don't think I am fond of the banjo as a musical instrument, but I've simply got to find Dorothy. If you don't know where she is will you ask Miss Mason? Tell her it is important or I would not have appeared. Oh, yes, I know the Boy Scouts are more welcome visitors at present than they were, still I really have too much else to do ordinarily!" So worried was Lance's expression that Teresa relented. "You might tell me what you have on your mind. If you don't wish to, why, I do know where Dorothy is. She and Tory Drew and Louise and little Lucy rowed over to the other side of the lake, not far off. If you are in a hurry you can take the other canoe and join them. It will require less time than walking around the shore and I'll go with you if you'd like to have me come." Lance flushed. "You will think I am rude I am afraid, Teresa, but it is rather a private matter I want to talk over with Dorothy, so if you don't object I'll row over alone. Some other time you and I----" The girl shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, it does not make any difference," she returned, and began humming a gay little tune and playing more softly. As he entered the silver canoe and started paddling across the shallow lake Lance regretted his decision. His was a nature not so uncommon as people suppose. He disliked hurting people in small ways, in larger and more important ways he was apparently indifferent. He liked Teresa and thought her extremely pretty. After all, Dorothy would not be alone, although they could go off somewhere nearby together. Yet Lance knew he would not particularly object to the presence of Louise Miller and Tory Drew. No difficulty arose in discovering the group of girls. Before Lance shoved his boat from the shore he observed them at a point about three-quarters of the way down the opposite shore. He could not distinguish one from the other nor tell the exact number. As he approached nearer he observed that Tory was seated with an easel in front of her, and at a short distance away Lucy was posing. The other girls were not in sight. So intent was Tory upon her work that she did not see Lance until he was within a few yards. Then he called out to her, and Lucy, glad of a chance to change her position, ran down to meet him. They came up hand in hand. "Not so bad, Tory, for a girl, and one no older than you!" Lance murmured, staring at the drawing of the youthful artist, his brows drawn into a fine line, half of criticism, half envy. Donald and Dorothy McClain and most of her younger companions would have felt only enthusiastic admiration for Tory's work. Had they known, Lance's attitude was more flattering. He expected more of Tory's ability than the others knew how to expect. She shook her head. "This is my third attempt, Lance, to make a picture of Lucy that I shall be willing to submit to the judges in our Council or show father. I can't try again, we are going away from camp so soon. Now and then I think this may do, and at others I am discouraged. I must not talk about myself. How did you happen to turn up here? Are you looking for Dorothy? I hope there is nothing the matter, you are so serious." Before it became necessary for Lance to reply a voice interrupted him. Overhearing the conversation, Dorothy and Louise Miller, who had not been far away, were returning. With an unexpected display of affection, Dorothy McClain, not accustomed to showing her emotions, put her arm through her brother's and held tight to him. "What are you doing not in your Scout uniform, Lance? We were just saying that it was too dreadful to think that our summer camping days in Beechwood Forest would soon be a thing of the past. Nevertheless, I will be kind of glad to return to my own family. Tory and Ouida and I have been making all sorts of plans for the winter. You must help us with some of them, Lance, you and Don." "Afraid I won't be able to, Dorothy," Lance answered in an odd voice. The three girls studied him more intently. Lucy, seldom interested in the conversation of older persons, had wandered away and was throwing pebbles into the clear water. "Why not, Lance? You are not usually unaccommodating, and though you may consider you are wasting your valuable time to spend any of it with girls, you won't count Tory and Ouida and me with the others?" "I won't be at home next winter, Dorothy, at least I think not. I came out to camp this afternoon to have a private conversation with you, but if Ouida and Tory won't be bored I don't mind if they hear what I wish to say. Perhaps if you don't see things my way to the extent I want you to, they may help me." Dorothy looked frightened. "Oh, Lance! What in the world are you going to propose? Please don't ask me to take your part if you have been having an argument with father. I may not think you are in the right. Suppose we have afternoon tea before you tell us anything. We brought the tea things over in the canoe and Ouida and I have been collecting the materials for a fire." Doggedly Lance shook his head. "No, it will take more than a half hour before the water can possibly boil. I can't wait so long. "I have had an argument with father, Dorothy. I don't see how you managed to guess. I went in to see him yesterday and stayed all night at home. We talked until after midnight. I am going back home now after I have confided in you, so I did not care to wear my uniform." As if she suddenly had grown tired, Dorothy seated herself on the ground, Lance standing above and staring down at her an eager, appealing light in his brown eyes. Embarrassed by their own position, Tory and Louise were moving away when a swift inclination of Lance's hand beckoned them to remain. "I want you to stay, please do. I believe Dot is going to be difficult. I did not think so when I came out to talk things over with her. She is always claiming that I am her favorite brother yet when it comes to a test she is far oftener on any one's side than mine." "That is not because I do not care for you but because I feel you are often wrong, Lance, and for your own sake I am obliged to differ with you," Dorothy answered, as if she were on the defensive. "Oh, well, all right, here goes. Perhaps I am wrong again," Lance returned. "Nevertheless you and father might as well understand that I am in earnest and sooner or later mean to have my way." At this instant Lance sat down beside his sister, Tory and Ouida following his example, but a few feet away as if they were interested but reluctant. Persuasively Lance placed his arm around his sister. "Dot, does it ever occur to you that a fellow may have a right to his mistakes? The rest of my family is so almighty sensible that if I am never to be allowed to have my own way I'll never learn anything. "Do you remember about two weeks ago when Mr. Fenton talked to us about the Greek spirit? He said that to him it represented, beauty, adventure and freedom." Dorothy sighed. "Dear me, Lance, I was afraid at the time you might take Mr. Fenton's speech personally! What are you planning to do in quest of beauty, freedom and adventure?" Dorothy's expression was worried but amused, and Lance flushed. Upon only one subject was he particularly sensitive, his devotion to music and his own lack of any knowledge of it. In a measure his sister could surmise something of what he had in mind. "My effort was not to be a very serious one, Dot," he said slowly; "at least I did not feel it go until after my talk with father. He seems to have gone up in the air. I don't want to spend next winter in Westhaven. I simply can not endure any longer never having music lessons from any one who knows how to teach and not even hearing any music worth listening to." Lance set his teeth. "I don't ask anyone to understand, you can't if you try." Dorothy's blue eyes grew more troubled. "I know, Lance, but I do try," she returned. "And I would give anything, make any sacrifice I knew how to make if father were willing or had the money to send you to New York to study. But he is not willing and he has not the money." "I know, that is just it. I don't mean to ask him for money. I have been writing letters to people in New York and trying to get work and now I have succeeded in landing something that will give me enough to live on, so you won't have to worry." "But, Lance, there is school. You are only fifteen and you can't stop school, it is even against the law. You must have pretended you were older." "I can go to school at night when I have finished working; I explained this to father," Lance argued patiently. "What about the music? When will you have money or time for lessons?" Tory interrupted, not intending to intrude upon the discussion, but in her interest forgetting her resolution. A little less self-confident Lance appeared. "Honestly, I don't know, Tory," he replied. "I think I feel that if once I get where music is, the opportunity will come to me as rain and sunshine come to trees and the things that need them. Gee whiz, I am talking like a poet or a girl! Father would not think this line of conversation convincing. You'll think up a better line of argument, won't you Dorothy? Then when your time comes and you want something a whole lot I'll do my best for you." "But, Lance, I--" Dorothy hesitated--"I don't want you to go away from home; I don't think it best for you. You ought to wait several years anyhow. You are not strong and you'd be ill. You don't believe it, but father cares more for you than for the rest of us because you are more like mother. Please put things off a while longer in your own mind. Truly, father will not consent for the present." Lance got up. "All right, Dorothy, don't say anything to father on the subject. If you try to do your best for me what you really think will be plain enough. I am sorry to have interrupted you; I'm off." Nor would Lance remain in spite of the pleading of his sister and friends. Disconsolately they watched the slender figure in the canoe push away from shore. Afterwards they made no pretence of cheerfulness. Tory would not return to her drawing; Dorothy was too depressed even to assist in making tea. An hour later they were on the way back to their own camp. CHAPTER XIX LETTERS Mr. Jeremy Hammond personally conducted the search. The evergreen cabin had been erected without foundation save a number of cross beams. There was no cellar except one a few feet square under the small room that served as a kitchen. The logs that upheld the old house were singularly free from decay. Standing upon one of them, a line of Girl Scouts on either side of him, Mr. Hammond gazed downward with an air of discouragement. "I am obliged to confess I see no place that gives one a right to believe we shall discover a secret treasure," he remarked. "I am glad Kara is unaware of our effort. I was wrong in speaking to her on the subject. I suppose I am hopelessly romantic and have been cherishing the idea of some day discovering further information about the little girl I rescued a number of years ago. We shall find nothing here." Tory touched him on the arm. "Please, Mr. Hammond, don't let us start out upon our search in such a hopeless spirit. I feel as you say you do about Kara. Ever since I met her I have been convinced we would learn that she had a delightful background of some kind, which would explain why she is so brave and charming." Mr. Hammond smiled. "No, Tory, I cannot go so far as you. I have never anticipated so much. Besides, I do not consider it necessary. Personality is the strongest force in the world, not the question of one's immediate ancestors. I am not decrying the ancestors, only if one possesses an unusual personality it may come from further back in the stream of life and the stream was the same for us all in the beginning. "I have merely hoped to come across a clue which might give Kara an idea of her parentage, or perhaps, a relative who would be kind and interested in her." Tory looked disappointed. "Kara has plenty of people who are interested in her, and friends may be as satisfactory as relatives." In this sentiment Mr. Hammond may or may not have agreed. Already he had commenced tapping on the logs with the end of his cane and digging underneath in any stray spot that he hoped might develop into the receptacle of a box or treasure of some kind. The girls went about upon their own quests. Unfortunate that there was no greater amount of space, no secret chambers and passages to be investigated. This would have lent a glamour, a romance that nothing about the little evergreen cabin afforded. An hour and the exploration became of necessity over. Nothing of any interest had been unearthed. Disconsolately Mr. Hammond seated himself upon an upturned stool. A few of the Girl Scouts clustered about him; the others unwilling to give up, were still poking about in unlikely places. Alone Tory Drew's original ardor continued unquenched. All day she had a vision of herself going to Kara at the old Gray House with information that would bring a new happiness into the clear gray eyes grown so wistful in these weeks of a summer time they had thought to be so happy. No one place had been more thoroughly searched than the corners of the old brick fireplace that divided the living room and the kitchen with a single chimney. Yet kneeling down once more Tory began a last search, poking about into impossible crannies. Exhausted, she finally surrendered. No reward was to be theirs, and they had only been wasting valuable energy and time. Nevertheless Tory did not feel in the mood for discussing this obvious fact with the others. Near the old fireplace was a small collection of loose bricks. Arranging them into a low square Tory seated herself, leaning her head against the left corner of the chimney. Suddenly she had a sensation of dizziness. Her head seemed to be swimming from the fatigue perhaps and the disappointment of her futile search. She straightened, biting her lips and wondering why she was not more physically uncomfortable than she felt herself to be. Then hearing a crumbling noise behind her, Tory turned her eyes. The bricks against which her head had been resting had been loosened. She had not been dizzy, the movement had taken place _in them_. Picking up a stick that lay beside her feet she thrust it idly inside a tiny crevice. Actually by this time Tory had lost interest in what had been an ardent enthusiasm earlier in the day. She was excited, however, when a brick, displaced from its former position, tumbled to the ground, yet for the moment uttered no exclamation that might attract attention. Thrusting her hand into the opening she tugged at another brick. The exertion was unnecessary. It yielded at once to her touch. Two other bricks were as easily removed. Tory then discovered a hollow opening several feet deep. There was nothing visible inside; the space appeared dark and empty. Then Tory did call out and Mr. Hammond and the group of Girl Scouts crowded close about her. "Would you mind thrusting your hand inside and seeing if there is anything stored away? I don't think it very nice of me to ask you because I am afraid of touching something spooky or clammy. Do you mind?" Apparently Mr. Hammond did not object. Unmindful of his coat sleeve, he was thrusting the entire length of his arm into the hollow recess. "I wonder if this was not a Dutch oven that was covered over when it failed to be used. In that case I may find a petrified loaf of bread or pumpkin pie," Mr. Hammond remarked in a slightly ironical tone, bored by this time. An instant later his expression altered sufficiently for the group of girls watching to become conscious of the change. The next he drew forth a small package of letters tied together with a worn cord. Were they of the remotest interest or value? No one could say. At least the audience was willing to offer them the benefit of an investigation. Joan Peters went away to her tent, returning with a candle. If there was anything else inside the dark enclosure the lighted candle would show it forth. Except for the letters the recess was empty. Mr. Hammond continued to hold the packet and stare at it. "Don't you think you had best open the letters and read what they say?" Tory asked restlessly, wishing that Mr. Hammond would give her the opportunity. After all, she had been the real discoverer, even if her hands had not first touched the yellowed papers. Perhaps they would contain thrilling information for Kara. She might be an heiress or possessed of a more romantic heritage. Mr. Hammond appeared doubtful. "I don't know; I don't feel as if I were at liberty to open the letters. I have no authority and they can have no association with me. Perhaps I had best speak first to Dr. McClain and then take them to Kara." "But, Mr. Hammond," Dorothy McClain protested, "why should you conclude that a small package of letters discovered in the way that we have come across these can have any connection with Katherine Moore? The letters may have been thrust into the old fireplace to burn and been forgotten. Surely there can be no objection to your looking over them first! Then you may be able to decide to whom they should be presented. After all, the little evergreen cabin belongs to our Troop of Girl Scouts. Mr. Fenton bought the place and gave it to us. You have our permission. Besides, we would like to look at the letters with you. I am so excited I really cannot endure to wait any longer." CHAPTER XX LOOKING FORWARD Devoted attention to every line contained in the little package of letters failed to develop information which appeared to be of interest to Katherine Moore or any one else. Carefully each line was read by Mr. Hammond and the Girl Scouts on the afternoon of their discovery. Later the letters were given to Dr. McClain and to Mr. Hale, Margaret Hale's father, who was a prominent lawyer, for an equally painstaking perusal. They agreed that they were merely a trivial collection such as any one might receive from a dozen friends, preserved for the sake of the affection, not the value of the communications. There were no papers save the letters. Only one or two seemingly unimportant details connected the letters in any possible fashion with Katherine Moore. Three of them were signed with the initials O. M., which may or may not have had any association with the name Moore. In point of fact, it would have appeared a straining of the imagination, save that the name Moore was signed to one short note. In any case, it was agreed that, since there was no one else to claim them, the little package might be consigned to the girl who was discovered as a baby in the forsaken cabin. No one had been known to be living there at the time, so there was no reason to believe otherwise than that the baby had been carried there and immediately abandoned. As Dr. McClain was at present seeing Kara daily at the Gray House, the letters were given to him for safe delivery. Not until twenty-four hours after was Tory Drew permitted to call and find what the influence and effect of so unsatisfying a communication had been. She found Kara in the big room downstairs which had been given over to her use since her accident whenever she was living at the Gray House. When Tory entered the room Kara must have been re-reading the letters, since they lay open upon her lap. "You were not disappointed over our discovery, dear? The letters do mean something to you? You have the faith to believe that something important to _you_ will develop from them some day? I believe it if you do." Kara laughed. "Beloved Tory, if with all your imagination and sense of romance you could find nothing of value in the old letters why expect it of a practical, matter-of-fact, stupid person like I am? The letters are ridiculous to my mind so far as they are supposed to have any reference to me." Still the gray eyes were shining and to-day Tory beheld the half quizzical lines about the lips that belonged to the Kara of other days. "But if you have no faith in the letters, why do you seem so much happier and like your old self?" she queried. Her companion hesitated. "Hasn't Dr. McClain told you?" "He has told me nothing save that I might come to see you if I would not stay too long, which is the permission he gives to all our Girl Scouts." Kara's voice was steady with the old-time gentle drawl. "Promise me then not to expect too much or be too disappointed if things do not turn out altogether well? Of course I am happier to-day, happier than a dozen letters proclaiming me an heiress could ever make me. "Dr. McClain and two other surgeons who have seen me believe there is a possibility I may be well. They are not absolutely sure. Don't look so queer, Tory." "I don't look queer, go on," the other girl whispered, bending her face down so that her lips touched Kara's hair and her face could not be seen. "There isn't anything else to tell, except that I am to go to New York City to be treated and to spend the winter and that Mr. Fenton and Mr. Hammond and Dr. McClain and several other people have made the arrangements and will pay all my expenses." Here for the first time Kara's voice trembled. "Who says one cannot have beautiful things happen to one even if lost letters do prove disappointing?" She put out her hand and caught hold of her companion's. "Tory, you don't think I have failed to appreciate your loveliness to me this summer. All the time when I have appeared most ungrateful I have cared most. I won't talk about it now, only as you are an artist you understand better than I how one may see things in a wrong perspective. My view is clearer now whatever happens." Tory kneeled down: "I wish I might be Ruth to your Naomi." CHAPTER XXI KARA'S DEPARTURE Believing that it would do his patient no possible injury, Dr. McClain agreed that Kara should see as many of her friends as she desired upon the last few days before departing for New York City. Every spare hour Kara and Tory were together. The last few days Miss Victoria Fenton had asked Kara to stay with them at their home in the village. Farewell could be more easily said from there than at the Gray House on the edge of the town. There would be less difficulty in finally getting away. Dr. McClain was to accompany Kara to New York in order to see the New York physicians. Mr. Jeremy Hammond had offered to motor them down, as he owned a handsome car and Kara would be spared having to be lifted in and out of the train. Kara's farewell Scout meeting was by her own request a quiet one. No one would be present save the Scout Captain and her own Patrol. There was only one other person who would come for half an hour to say good-by, Memory Frean. Fortunately the Fenton house had a bedroom on the first floor, so that Kara could be comfortable without the problem of the stairs. One admirer Kara had acquired without realizing the fact. She was to make the discovery on the afternoon that she and Miss Victoria Fenton sat talking, waiting for Tory to announce that preparations were ready for tea. From the beginning of Tory's first acquaintance with Katharine Moore, Miss Fenton had been quietly watching the other girl. She had liked Kara's fashion of never referring to the difference between her own life and that of her more fortunate friends. When it was natural to mention the orphan asylum, where she made her home, always she spoke of the place with affection, never criticism or resentment. Knowing nothing of her parentage, Miss Victoria concluded for reasons of her own that Kara had come of well-bred people. And she meant more than ordinary breeding. She was under the impression that Kara revealed rare tact and sweetness in a difficult situation. Now and then she considered that her attitude bore a quality of high courage. But not until after Kara's accident was Miss Fenton convinced that courage was the characteristic that lay behind her other attributes. In the twenty-four hours the young girl had been her guest with the prospect of such a test of patience and fortitude before her, Miss Victoria had surrendered completely. Silently Tory Drew had been aware of Miss Victoria's state of mind. She had observed a new tenderness in the older woman's manner and voice whenever she spoke or looked at her guest that she never had seen her display. This afternoon on the day before Kara's departure, when Miss Victoria entered Kara's bedroom, with a hurried excuse Tory withdrew. Kara, who was lying on a couch in a dark corner of the square old room, struggled to sit up as the older woman entered. With hands that were large and kind the older woman pushed her gently back upon the pile of soft cushions. Then, untying a parcel and flushing as if she were embarrassed, Miss Victoria laid a dressing gown over the reclining figure. The gown was a beautiful one, with nothing of the plainness or severity one might have imagined Miss Victoria would choose. It was of blue silk, the shade known as old blue, indescribably deep and soft in tone. The lining was of pale gray. A little hood hung at the back and a cord was knotted about the waist. Kara might wear it for a number of occasions. She could receive guests in it, as it would doubtless be difficult for her at all times to be formally dressed. Kara's voice shook a little as she touched the silk with one hand and caught Miss Victoria's hand with the other. "Everybody is being too good to me. I wonder if it is going to make it harder or easier for me this winter. I shall miss my friends the more and at the same time want to show them how deeply I appreciate what is being done. May I write to you now and then, Miss Victoria?" Miss Fenton showed and expressed pleasure, although she had written her niece only a single letter in more than a month's absence from the village. "I have something else for you, Kara, something I want you to prize, not because of its great value but because it means a great deal to me. "It was given me by the bravest person I have known. I will not tell you about him now. Perhaps I will some day. If ever life seems to be too difficult for you, my dear, you must tell me and then perhaps my story may help you find new courage. Please don't speak of this to any one except to say I wished to give you the little pin as a parting gift." As Tory softly turned the handle of the door to come back into the room and announce the Girl Scouts, she observed Miss Fenton stoop and pin at Kara's throat a small pin. As she came nearer she saw that it was a beautiful sapphire set in an old-fashioned band of gold. In truth, the pin was handsomer than either girl appreciated. A moment later, before Kara could thank her properly, the older woman hurried away, insisting she had a household duty to look after. The Girl Scouts had been warned. Kara's farewell to her Patrol must be as casual and matter-of-fact as possible. There must be no heroics at parting; she would leave in the early morning and must reserve all her strength. At shortly after five o'clock the girls and the Troop Captain had departed and Kara was again lying down alone until the evening meal. Afterwards Dr. McClain and Dorothy were to come in for a few moments. Kara and Tory, Miss Victoria and Mr. Richard Fenton were in the drawing-room when they entered. Unexpectedly Lance accompanied them. "We did not intend allowing Lance to appear, Kara," Dorothy apologized, "but he insisted he had something of special importance to say to you and never had been allowed the opportunity, you have been so surrounded." Not long after, stating that he was satisfied with her condition, Dr. McClain departed to call upon another patient. A few minutes later Miss Victoria and Mr. Fenton left the drawing-room to the younger guests. Kara was in her wheeled chair. Lance was standing near her. Dorothy was seated on a stool nearby, while Tory remained on the rug with her back to the fire, facing the others. Dorothy smiled. "Do you remember, Kara? Tory is wearing a green dress to-night as upon the occasion of our first visit to this drawing-room to ask her to become a Girl Scout. Dear me, what is that commotion?" The two girls ran over toward the window. Lance had the thoughtfulness to wheel Kara's chair so that she might equally gratify her curiosity. Tory had drawn up the curtain and the four of them could see a small group of figures standing in the street beneath the drawing-room window. There was a light coating of snow on the sidewalk. "What in the world is the matter?" Dorothy asked anxiously. "Isn't Don one of the boys down there? I wonder what they intend?" Lance made an odd grimace. "Intend? Good gracious! I always felt Don had no sense of humor, but this is worse than I feared. "Don't you girls appreciate the fact this is to be a farewell serenade for Kara? Yet Don has read 'Seventeen'! They are half a dozen of the Boy Scout Band." "It is very kind of them, I am sure; no reason for you to be so superior, Lance," Tory answered. Outside the musicians were beginning the strains of "Auld Lang Syne" and the little crowd inside the room were silent, Tory thrusting the girl for whom the honor was intended into the most conspicuous position and a moment later wrapping a blue scarf about her thin shoulders. With their heads close together they listened and watched. "What are we to do when they have finished, Tory, to show our appreciation?" Kara whispered. "I am afraid Dr. McClain would not be willing to have me see them. Shall I go to my room while you receive them?" "No," Tory shook her head, glancing about the room. On a center table was a bowl of red roses, the flowers Mr. Fenton cared for most, that he had brought as a farewell offering to Kara. Tory gathered half a dozen in her hands. "Throw these out and wave good-night," she murmured. Kara was not able to reach so far and seemed shy at making the attempt, so that the other girl threw the roses and saw them fall, crimson spots of color on the white snow. Don picked one up and waved it, lifting his hat. The other boys followed his example. "Good-night, good-by, Kara," they called. Donald's last glance and good-by was for Tory Drew. As they closed the window and reluctantly turned away, Dorothy McClain wore an unusual expression. She was frowning and biting her lips, her color warmer than usual. "Do you know, Tory, I believe Don is growing to be as fond of you as of me." She slipped her arm through Lance's and held it close. Lance gave her a reassuring glance. Tory laughed. "Never in a thousand years! But if Lance really wants to speak to Kara, perhaps he would rather we give him the opportunity alone. "Suppose you come over here and sit on the sofa beside me. You must be specially good to me when Kara is away." Seldom was Lance awkward in manner or apparently at a loss for words. Now he appeared embarrassed and silent. "No, please don't go away, Tory, you and Dot, not if you can bear remaining. And you must, to brace up Kara. The truth is I had nothing special to say to her, but the other afternoon I composed a little piece of music in her honor as a farewell. I am wiser to-night and she shall not be afflicted with it." Again Lance's brown eyes were slightly sarcastic, slightly challenging. "How can you care for my poor efforts after the serenade?" Tory made no answer save to attempt to lift the cover from the piano, so that Lance was compelled to come to her assistance. "Sit down, Lance," she ordered quietly, attempting to place the stool in position. "I am glad to say the old piano was tuned only a few days ago, although no one here uses it. You know you want to play what you have written for Kara, so why pretend otherwise?" Tory's manner left no chance for argument, so Lance, with a whimsical smile of agreement, meekly obeyed. He sat under a light from a reading lamp, the two girls standing beside Kara's chair. "My musical composition has the advantage of not being long and is merely an attempt to express our sorrow over Kara's departure, our faith in her good courage and our splendid hope for her return. Yes, and perhaps a little of my envy that she goes to the city of my dreams. Perhaps after all I shall meet her there." Lance's words trailed away into silence as his slender fingers touched the keys in a simple melody of farewell. 
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28983	----	(This file was made using scans of public domain works put online by Harvard University Library\\\'s Open Collections Program, Women Working 1800 - 1930.) [Illustration] How Girls Can Help Their Country Adapted from Agnes Baden-Powell and Sir Robert Baden-Powell's Handbook 1917 COPYRIGHT, 1917 BY JULIETTE LOW Transcriber's note: Italics are signified by underscores, _, and bold is signified by tildes, ~, around the words. In one spot in the text [=V] is used to describe a V with a line above it and [V=] signifies a V with a line below it. Contents Part I. PAGE HISTORY 1 HOW TO BEGIN 4 LAWS 7 SELF-IMPROVEMENT 9 Part II. MEMBERSHIP 20 QUALIFICATIONS FOR GRADES AND RANK 25 ENROLLMENT 27 BADGES AND AWARDS 29 TESTS FOR MERIT BADGES 31 Part III. GAMES 48 CAMPING 57 SCOUTCRAFT 68 STARS 83 GARDENING 92 Part IV. SANITATION 94 HEALTH 98 HOME LIFE 106 Part V. FIRST AID 124 Part VI. PATRIOTISM 136 LIST OF BOOKS TO READ 142 INDEX 153 Copies of this book may be obtained from Girl Scout National Headquarters, 527 Fifth Avenue, City of New York; price 30 cents, postpaid. PATRONESSES OF GIRL SCOUTS. MRS. PHILIP BROWN New York " ARTHUR CHOATE " " " POWERS FARR " " " SNOWDON MARSHALL " " " HENRY PARISH, JR. " " " THEODORE PRICE " " " DOUGLAS ROBINSON " " " SAMUEL VAN DUSEN " " " LEONARD WOOD " " " WM. J. BOARDMAN Washington, D. C. " ALBERT BURLESON " " " " JAS. MARION JOHNSTON " " " " JOSEPH R. LAMAR " " " " RICHARD G. LAY " " " " OSCAR UNDERWOOD " " " " JOHN VAN RENSSELAER " " " " EDWARD DOUGLAS WHITE " " " " H. C. GREENE Boston, Mass. MISS KATHERINE LORING " " " LOUISA LORING " " MRS. RONALD LYMAN " " " HENRY PARKMAN " " " WILLIAM LOWELL PUTNAM " " " LAWRENCE ROTCH " " " WILLIAM W. VAUGHAN " " " BARRETT WENDELL " " " ROGER WOLCOTT " " " WILLIAM RUFFIN COX Richmond, Va. " HUNTER MCGUIRE " " " GEO. HYDE CLARK Cooperstown, N. Y. " HERBERT BARRY Orange, N. J. " THOMAS EDISON " " " " PHILIP MCK. GARRISON " " " " GEORGE MERCK " " " " B. PALMER AXSON Savannah, Ga. " GEORGE J. BALDWIN " " MISS ELIZABETH BECKWITH " " MRS. ROCKWELL S. BRANK " " " W. W. GORDON " " " LOUIS W. HASKELL " " MISS HORTENSE ORCUTT " " " NINA PAPE " " MRS. FREDERICK F. REESE " " " SAMUEL DRURY St. Paul's School, Concord, N. H. " ORTON BROWN Berlin, N. H. " FREDERICK FRELINGHUYSEN Newark, N. J. " WAYNE PARKER " " " " DOUGLAS GORMAN Baltimore, Md. MISS MANLY " " MRS. JAS. HOUSTOUN JOHNSTON Birmingham, Ala. " WILLIAM S. LOVELL " " " ROBERT C. ALSTON " " " JOHN B. GORDON Atlanta, Ga. " CLELAND KINLOCH NELSON " " " JOHN M. SLATON " " " CARTER HARRISON Chicago, Ill. " HERBERT HAVEMEYER " " " CYRUS MCCORMICK, SENIOR " " MISS SKINNER " " " FREDERICA SKINNER " " MRS. MARK WILLING " " " CHARLES G. WASHBURN Worcester, Mass. MISS KATHERINE HUTCHINSON Philadelphia, Pa. MRS. ROBERT LESLIE " " " JOHN MARKOE " " " ALFONSO MUNOZ " " MISS ANNE THOMPSON " " MRS. CHARLES DOBNEY Cincinnati, Ohio " JAMES PERKINS " " MISS JOSEPHINE SIMRALL " " MRS. ROBERT TAFT, JUNIOR " " " MAX HIRSCH " " " G. S. RAFTER Washington, D. C. Part I HISTORY OF GIRL SCOUTS Girl Scouts, like Boy Scouts, are found all over the world. When Sir Robert Baden-Powell formed the first troops of Boy Scouts, six thousand girls enrolled themselves, but, as Sir Robert's project did not include the admission of girls, he asked his sister, Miss Baden-Powell, to found a similar organization for girls, based on the Boy Scout laws, with activities and occupations properly adapted for girls. She then founded the Girl Guide organization. In America, in March, 1912, the first patrols of Girl Guides were enrolled by Juliette Low, in Savannah, Georgia. In 1913, the National Headquarters were established by her in Washington, D. C., and Miss Edith Johnston became the National Secretary. The name Girl Guides was then changed to Girl Scouts because the object of the organization is to promote the ten Scout Laws: TRUTH, LOYALTY, HELPFULNESS, FRIENDLINESS, COURTESY, KINDNESS, OBEDIENCE, CHEERFULNESS, PURITY, and THRIFT. The movement then grew and spread in a remarkable way. The success of the movement is due, in a great measure, to the work of the National Secretary, Miss Cora Neal, who built up the organization during the most difficult years of its existence. In 1916, Headquarters were removed from Washington to New York, and the machinery for unifying the national work of the organization is now placed on an efficient basis. The training of Girl Scouts is set forth in the Handbook, written by Lieut.-General Sir Robert Baden-Powell and Miss Baden-Powell. Juliette Low obtained the rights of their book and, with the help of committees and experts from all parts of America, adapted it to the use of the Girl Scouts of the United States. It is impossible to train Girl Scouts without the Handbook. In 1915, a Convention of Girl Scout leaders from most of the large cities was held and a National Council was formed, composed of delegates from the cities or communities where more than one hundred Girl Scouts were enrolled. This National Council met in Washington, D. C., on June 10, 1915, and put the management of the business of the National Organization in the hands of an Executive Committee, composed of: A President. A Secretary or Executive Officer. A Treasurer. A Vice-President. Chief Commissioner. Six or more members of the National Council. The Duties of the Executive Committee are: (1) To grant charters to the Local Councils of Girl Scouts. (2) To manufacture and copyright the badges. (3) To select uniforms and other equipment. At every annual meeting of the National Council there is an election of the Executive Committee. This committee has the power to cancel a charter. National Headquarters The National Headquarters has a staff of officers to do the work of the organization, holding their positions at the pleasure of the Executive Board. The National Secretary is appointed by the President and holds office at the pleasure of the President. Each city or locality has a Local Council of twelve or more members, according to the size of the community. These local Councils are under the direction of the National Council and obtain their charters from Headquarters. Where one hundred or more Girl Scouts have been enrolled, the Local Council has the right to send one representative to the National Council for the annual meeting. The salute is three fingers raised, the little finger held down by the thumb. [Illustration: _The Salute_] Handshake with the left hand while the right hand is raised in half salute--that is three fingers raised and held on the line with the shoulder. This is the salute given between one Girl Scout and another, and the full salute is when the fingers are raised to the temple on a level with the brow. This is given to officers and to the United States flag. (In saluting, the hand is always held upright, never in a horizontal position.) HOW TO BEGIN It is not intended that Girl Scouts should necessarily form a new club separated from all others. Girls who belong to any kind of existing organization, such as school clubs or Y. W. C. A.'s may also undertake, in addition to their other work or play, the Girl Scouts' training and games, especially on Saturdays and Sundays. It is not meant that girls should play or work on Sunday, but that they may take walks where they can carry on a study of plants and animals. Groups or bands of girls not already belonging to any club may be organized directly as a Girl Scout Patrol or Troop. How to Start a Patrol Eight girls in any town, school, or settlement may join together to form a Patrol. They should have a Captain who must be at least twenty-one years old. The Captain selects a Lieutenant, or second in command, and the girls elect a Patrol leader. The girls should be from ten to seventeen years of age. It is best if all the girls in each Patrol are about the same age. A less number than eight girls can begin the movement, but eight girls are required to form a Patrol. A girl may not become a Lieutenant until she has reached the age of eighteen, or a Captain until she is twenty-one. In Europe, Girl Scout Patrols are sometimes formed by grown women who wish to carry out the Girl Scout program of preparedness. Members of such Patrols are called Senior Scouts. Senior Scouts make the three promises and accept the Scout law. They are enrolled as Scouts but do not meet regularly in the same manner as girls' Troops. They are organized in classes to learn first aid, signalling, marksmanship, or any other subject of the Girl Scout program of training. Senior Scouts may well practice what they learn in such classes by teaching, for one or two months, Patrols of younger Girl Scouts. Thus they improve their command of what they have learned, and serve as an example to the younger Scouts, stimulating their interest in being prepared and especially in the subject taught. The First Meeting At the first meeting, the Scout Captain, who has previously studied the plan, principles, and object of the Girl Scout organization, explains the laws, promises, and obligations of the Girl Scouts to the members who are to form the troops. The names and addresses of the girls are recorded, the day set for the regular meeting, and the length of time for each meeting determined. Fifteen minutes may be spent on knot-tying, the Scout Captain first explaining the parts of the knot, and the requirements for knot-tying. Three-quarters of an hour to an hour should be spent on recreation out of doors. Succeeding Meetings The second, third, and fourth meetings should be spent in learning the requirements for the Tenderfoot tests. Each meeting should open with the formation of the troop in rank, by patrols, facing the Scout Captain. The first salute should be given to the Scout Captain, followed by the pledge to the flag, and inspection of the troop by the captain. After inspection the troop should break ranks and hold a short business meeting. Elections may be held at the second or third meeting for the patrol leader, corporal, secretary, treasurer, and any other officers the members of the troop may desire. The Scout Captain should instruct the troop how to conduct a business meeting, and explain the nomination and election of officers. Weekly dues may be determined, and some decision had on the disposition of the funds. After the business meeting, the work or the tests should be studied, and the proper time spent on recreation. Every meeting should have a formal closing as well as a regular opening. For the closing, the troop should line up as for the opening routine, and give the good-bye salute. A definite time should be decided upon for the examination for Tenderfoot Scout, and the examination held at that time. Every Girl Scout who passes her examination is then ready to be enrolled and to make the Girl Scout Promise. Girl Scout's Promise Each girl must promise on her honor to try to do three things: ~1. To do my duty to God and to my country.~ ~2. To help other people at all times.~ ~3. To obey the laws of the Scouts.~ She learns the salute and the secret sign of the Scouts. The Girl Scout Motto Is [Illustration] _These laws are for the guidance of Captains, and the girls, although they learn the Law, are not allowed to make the promise to keep the Law until the Captain considers they are capable of living up to its spirit._ THE GIRL SCOUT LAWS 1. A Girl Scout's Honor Is to be Trusted If a Scout says, "on my honor it is so," that means that what she says is as true as if she had taken a most solemn oath. 2. A Girl Scout Is Loyal to the President, to her country, and to her officers; to her father, to her mother, and to her employers. She remains true to them through thick and thin. In the face of the greatest difficulties and calamities her loyalty must remain untarnished. 3. A Girl Scout's Duty Is to be Useful and to Help Others She is to do her duty before anything else even if she gives up her own pleasure, safety, or comfort. When in doubt as to which of two things to do she must think, "Which is my duty?" which means, "Which is the best for other people?" and do that at once. She must be prepared at any time to save life or help the injured. She should do at least one good turn to someone every day. 4. A Girl Scout Is a Friend to All, and a Sister to Every Other Girl Scout. Thus if a Scout meets another Scout, even though a stranger to her, she may speak to her, and help her in any way she can, either to carry out the duty she is then doing or by giving her food, or as far as possible anything she may want. Like Kim a Scout should be a "Little friend to all the world." 5. A Girl Scout Is Courteous That is, she is polite to all. She must not take any reward for being helpful or courteous. 6. A Girl Scout Keeps Herself Pure in thought, word, and deed. 7. A Girl Scout Is a Friend to Animals She should save them as far as possible from pain and should not kill even the smallest unnecessarily. They are all God's creatures. 8. A Girl Scout Obeys Orders Under all circumstances, when she gets an order she must obey it cheerfully and readily, not in a slow, sullen manner. Scouts never grumble, whine, or frown. 9. A Girl Scout Is Cheerful under all circumstances. Scouts never grumble at hardships, nor whine at each other, nor frown when put out. A Scout goes about with a smile and singing. It cheers her and cheers other people, especially in time of danger. 10. A Girl Scout Is Thrifty This means, that a Scout avoids all useless waste of every kind; she is careful about saving every penny she can put into the bank so that she may have a surplus in time of need. She sees that food is not wasted, and that her clothing is cared for properly. The Girl Scout does not waste time. She realizes that time is the most precious thing any one of us has. The Girl Scout's time is spent either in useful occupations or in wholesome recreation, and she tries to balance these two harmoniously. SELF-IMPROVEMENT A Great Law of Life One of the most fundamental laws of life is that, in the natural course of things, the influence of women over men is vastly greater than that of men over one another. This is what gives to girls and women a peculiar power and responsibility, for no Girl Scout or other honorable woman--whether old or young--could use her influence as a woman excepting to strengthen the characters and to support the honor of the men and boys with whom she comes in contact. Kipling, in ~Kim~, says that there are two kinds of women,--~one kind that builds men up, and the other that pulls men down~; and there is no doubt as to where a Girl Scout should stand. This great law is nothing to make a girl feel proud or superior to men; but, on the contrary, the understanding of it should make her humble and watchful to be faithful to her trust. Many a boy has been strengthened in his character and his whole life made happier by the brave refusal of a girl to do wrong; while the opposite weakness has been the cause of endless misery and wretchedness. To gain and always retain the power to be a true woman friend to the men who belong in her own sphere of life is not always an easy matter for a girl, for she cannot do it unless she keeps a watch over her own faults and weaknesses so that the best of her is always in control. You can not fight for the right in the life of another unless you are first fighting for the right in your own life. The chief difficulty in acquiring this happy and cheerful dignity comes from _the desire to be admired_, which is a tendency inborn in the great majority of women. It stands in the way of their greatest strength and usefulness, because it takes away their real independence and keeps them thinking about themselves instead of about others. It is a form of bondage which makes them vain and self-conscious and renders impossible the truest and happiest companionship between men and women friends. "Be prepared," therefore, to do a true woman's full duty to her men by never allowing the desire for admiration to rule your actions, words, or thoughts. Our country needs women who are prepared. Prepared for what? To do their duty. Be Strong Have you ever stopped to think that your most constant companion throughout life will be yourself? You will always have this body, this mind, and this spirit that you call "I," but this body, this mind, this spirit are constantly growing and changing, and it is quite possible for the owner to direct this growth and change. In order to live well, in order to possess the joy of life, and to be helpful to others, a Scout needs to apply her motto "Be prepared" to herself. Strength and beauty should be hers in body, mind, and spirit. [Illustration] The body responds very readily to proper care and attention. In fact one may have the kind of body that she wishes, if a beginning is made in youth, and a plan persistently followed. The joyful exercise of vigorous outdoor games gives the finest type of training to the body, and at the same time the player enjoys the fun. To be happy and merry has a good effect itself on the body, while being angry or morose actually saturates the body with slow poisons. The body and mind are very closely related. Things that are good for one are good for the other. A girl who develops a strong agile body, at the same time improves her brain. A girl with weak, flabby muscles cannot have the strength of character that goes with normal physical power. It has been said, that "health is the vital principle of bliss, and exercise of health." Be Helpful To make others happy is the Scout's first wish. When you come home from work or school turn your thoughts to those you love at home and try to see what you can do to lighten their burdens or cheer them. It is not beyond the power of a girl to make home peaceful and happy. Perhaps there are little ones to think of. They are quick to copy and every good action and kind word of yours may have an effect on them through their whole lives. DO A GOOD TURN to some one every day. That is one of the Scout laws. Tie a knot that you will have to untie every night, and before you go to sleep think of the good turn you did that day--if you find you have forgotten, or that the opportunity has not arisen that day, do two next day to make up for it. By your Scout's oath you know you are in honor bound to try to do this. It need be only a small thing. Help some one across the street or show him the way to the place he wishes to go. Aid a person overburdened with packages, or pick one up that has dropped. Any little thing of this sort will count. Habits "'Tis today we make tomorrow." One of our wisest men has said that each one of us is a bundle of habits. We are so made that once we perform any act, that particular thing is ever afterward easier to do. We tend to do the things we have already done. By selecting the right things to do and always doing them, we actually are making our destiny. Each one of us has her character made by her habits. Habits are repeated acts, and we may choose what our habits should be by choosing our acts. As Scouts we choose to be happy, loyal, helpful girls. As we practice the Scout laws they become a part of us. Modesty Girl Scouts have often been complimented for their modest bearing. One does not hear them talk about what they have done, or what they are going to do. They just do the thing and say nothing about it. They go about their business or pleasure quietly and gently, and never draw attention to themselves unnecessarily by behaving noisily and talking or laughing loudly in public. They should be particularly careful of this when in the company of boys or men. Girls and boys should be comrades and should never do anything to lose the respect of older men and women. Girls of good feeling should be especially careful to be modest in dress and deportment on social occasions. Unfortunately many girls who are perfectly innocent and unconscious, cause comment and are the cause of improper feelings being aroused among their companions. Girls should not risk, by their manner of dress or method of dancing, bringing temptation to others. It is easily possible for a girl to exert an excellent influence upon her friends by setting a proper example. Reading Wherever you go you will have the choice of good or bad reading, and as reading has such a lasting effect on the mind, you should try to read only good things. If you find that you are tempted by reading rubbish, it is easy to stop doing so. Once you know what your fault is you can fight it squarely. Ruskin says, "All your faults are gaining on you every hour that you do not fight them." The thing is, when there is danger before you, don't stop and think about it,--the more you look at it the less you will like it,--but take the plunge and go boldly in at it, and it will not be half as bad as it looked, when you are once in it. This is the way to deal with any difficulty in life. If you have a job, or if any trouble arises which seems too difficult to meet, don't shirk it--just smile, and try and think out a way by which you may get successfully through with it. Read in _�sop's Fables_ how the old man advised his son that it was easy to break a bundle of rods, but only if you took them one at a time. Economy More women are engaged in housekeeping than in all the other professions and employments combined. This is a difficult profession and requires knowledge and training, if good results are to be secured. Housekeepers need to have a plan, and especially a budget of expenses. One of the chief duties of housekeeping consists in seeing that there be no waste of any kind. The efficient housekeeper prevents a waste of food, of light, fuel, and of every other item. The wise individual gives special care to preventing a waste of time on the part of herself and others. The real orderly Girl Scout has a place for everything and keeps everything in its place. She has a time for performing each of her duties and does it at that time. Thrift It seems easy to learn how to spend money, but it is an art to learn how best to spend. Scouts gain experience by being allowed to purchase for the company, also by keeping the accounts, and they should always keep their own accounts neatly. We have to keep accounts when we grow up, and it is well to get into the way of measuring our expenditure from the first. You will remember that one of the Scout laws is to BE THRIFTY. The girl who begins making money young will go on making it as she grows older. It may be difficult at first, but it will come easier later on, especially if you earn money by hard work. If you try to make it only by easy means you are bound to lose after a time. Any number of poor girls have become rich, but in nearly every case it was because they meant to do so from the first. They worked for it and put every penny that could be spared into a savings account. The history of the majority of the world's greatest millionaires is that they began life without a dollar. To become a first-class Scout a girl must have a certain amount in the savings bank before she can have the honor of receiving her badge. By saving only two cents a week at least a dollar a year is saved. Employment "Stick to it" the thrush sings. One of the worst weaknesses of many people is that they do not have the perseverance to stick to what they have to do. They are always wanting to change. Whatever you take up, do it with all your might, and stick to it. Besides the professions of nursing, teaching, stenography and type-writing, and clerking, there are many less crowded employments, such as hair-dressing, making flowers, coloring photographs, assisting dentists, and gardening. There are many occupations for women, but before any new employment can be taken up one must begin while young to make plans and begin collecting information. "Luck is like a street car; the only way to get it is to look out for every chance and seize it--run at it and jump on; don't sit down and wait for it to pass. Opportunity is a street car which has few stopping places." CHOOSE A CAREER: "Be prepared" for what is going to happen to you in the future. Try to master one trade so that you will be independent. Being punctual is a most important thing. This counts for a great deal in filling any kind of position. Be Observant In the early days of human development, centuries ago, the chief training men had was gained from fishing, hunting, and the other activities of savage life in the woods. This is a very valuable kind of training which city people miss. This knowledge of the woods, of animals and their habits, and of all the other phases of nature necessary for life in the open is called "Wood-craft." It is possible to train ourselves to be observant of nature and to develop a keenness of sight and hearing that are very valuable. It is a part of the duty of Scouts to see and appreciate the beauties of nature, and not be blind to them as so many people are. Try to see everything. Consider it almost a disgrace if, when with others, they see anything big or small, high or low, near or far, that you fail to discover. See it first if you can. Careers Well educated women can make a good income by taking up translating, library work, architecture, and many professions which formerly have been open only to men. In Russia, a municipal fire brigade has been commanded by a young woman. The medical profession offers a great opportunity to women. Nursing is more easily learned, and is of the greatest advantage at the same time, for every woman is a better wife and mother for having been a nurse first. Even so long ago as the first century women devoted their lives to the medical profession, as Zenais, a relative of St. Paul, Leonilla, and Hildegarde of Mont Rupert. Later, Nicerate, in 404, studied medicine and practiced with great ability. Fifty years ago no woman could become a doctor. Now it is within the power of any intelligent girl, through study and perseverance, to enter the medical profession, and even to rise to distinction and to honorable celebrity. Mme. Curie has done such wonderful work in chemistry, that the Academy of Paris has long debated whether she should not be made an academician for her discoveries in connection with polonium and radium. Study Each one of us has her own destiny in her control, and has her own personal problems in life to settle. Thus, we all need all the knowledge and wisdom that we can secure. Each one of us should be a student, ever growing in power of thought and in usefulness to others. Too many people think that education consists in memorizing all kinds of information exactly as it is put down in the books. What each one of us really needs is to have a mind that can think definitely and intelligently upon all the problems presented in life. It is possible for us to train our minds for this kind of useful and independent thought. In the first place we should select subjects for study that are of real interest because they bear upon some problem that concerns us. Whenever we begin to read a book, or undertake any topic of study, it should be done with a definite purpose in mind. Propose to yourself some question that you expect to be answered by this book, or by this subject. Do not be satisfied with the statement of one author, but also find out what other authors say, and what some of your friends think upon this question. When you have done this, try to arrange the different thoughts and statements according to a plan. Pick out the largest truth in the whole matter and arrange other statements or thoughts as they are related to this central one. Making an outline of a book is an excellent plan. Do not commit yourself entirely to the author's point of view, if it does not agree with your own. Each one of us has a distinct individuality and is entitled to his own views, to a certain extent. However, we should keep our minds open, ready to accept new truths as they are brought to our attention. Science and knowledge are constantly advancing, and what we believe now, we may find, some years hence, to be only a part of the truth. Thus, it is not necessary to memorize lessons and subjects until after we have thought out what the real meaning is, and arranged the whole subject on a definite plan. Then, we will usually find that we know the topic without having to memorize it formally. Finally we should try to put to use the ideas we have gained. The real value of ideas lies in making them serve us. When you have actually put into practice some bit of knowledge, you may then feel that it really belongs to you. In our work and study we need to learn to devote our whole attention to one thing,--to do this one thing with all the power that we have. Too many of us form a habit of dividing our attention, trying to carry two things in mind at the same time. This is a weakness that interferes with our success. If we are truly interested, we should put our whole attention upon the one matter and develop power of concentration. To make what has been said about study clearer, let us use an illustration. Suppose one of our Girl Scouts is fond of gardening. The family has no garden, and there is a vacant space in the yard that could be used for this purpose. She begins the reading of one of the farmers' bulletins on this subject, and has in mind, all the time, making a garden of her own. This object of making her own garden is her guide in the study. She wishes to learn what plants are best suited to her plot, which ones will give her the best return for the kind of soil that she has, and so, as she reads, she chooses for herself from the ideas that are presented. The whole subject is arranged in her own mind around her own plan of making a garden. After reading this bulletin she is likely to consult her friends who know anything about this subject, and to read other articles. Finally she puts into practice the notions she has gathered, and finds through actual trial whether they succeed or not. If she is successful in growing flowers and vegetables, the ideas have been put to a very practical and beneficial use. This girl will know a great deal more about gardening than if she merely read the book. Patriotism You belong to the great United States of America, one of the great world powers for enlightenment and liberty. It did not just grow as circumstances chanced to form it. It is the work of your forefathers who spent brains and blood to complete it. Even when brothers fought they fought with the wrath of conviction, and when menaced by a foreign foe they swung into line shoulder to shoulder with no thought but for their country. In all that you do think of your country first. We are all twigs in the same fagot, and every little girl goes to make up some part or parcel of our great whole nation. Part II MEMBERSHIP This Organization is Non-Sectarian and Non-Political Any girl over ten years old may become a Girl Scout and she may belong to other organizations at the same time. She first ranks as Tenderfoot or third-class Girl Scout, then, after one month, she becomes, after passing certain tests, a second-class Girl Scout, and finally attains the rank of first-class Girl Scout. After she has reached the age of eighteen, a girl can become a lieutenant, and when she is twenty-one years old she may become a captain if she has passed the first-class examinations. Girl Scouts' patrols in Europe are sometimes formed by grown-up women, who wish to carry out the Girl Scout program of preparedness, and these are called Senior Scouts. Grades Tenderfoot Second Class First Class Officers of the Local Organization A Commissioner. The duties of a Commissioner are: To inspect companies and patrols and advise how to conduct them according to the principles found in the Handbook. To secure the harmonious co-operation of all the captains in the district. To be the authority for recommending the issue or the denial of captains' certificates before they are sent to Headquarters. To foster the movement generally throughout the district. (Where there is no Secretary, the Commissioner must organize the examinations for Merit Badges.) To forward the semi-annual reports to Headquarters. A Secretary. The duty of a Secretary is to be the local executive officer. She shall have charge of Headquarters and other property of the local organization. She shall have a general supervision of the captains and instruct new captains in their duties. She shall keep a record of all the troops, the names and addresses of the captains and the councilors of Girl Scouts, and such other information in regard to them as may be necessary for her work. She shall receive all the applications for Girl Scout captains' certificates and send these applications to Headquarters. Where a local council exists, all applications must be approved by the local council. She shall render a report at the regular meetings of the local board of councilors on the condition and progress of the Girl Scouts. She shall notify all the members of the annual, regular, and special meetings. She shall attend all the public meetings connected with the organization. A Treasurer. The duties of a Treasurer: She shall keep an itemized account of all receipts and disbursements in a book, and present a written report at the regular meeting of the board of councilors. She shall pay only those bills that have been signed by the Commissioner and Secretary. She shall make an annual report and produce the vouchers which shall be submitted to an auditor at least one week before the annual meeting. All the local organization's funds shall pass through her hands. A Captain. The duties of a Captain: The captain has the power to enroll Scouts and to recommend them to the local committee for badges and medals. She also has the power to release a Scout from her promise, and to withdraw her badges at any time, and to discharge her. A Scout who considers herself unjustly treated may appeal to the local council. Their decision shall be final. The captain must apply to National Headquarters for an official certificate. Her application must be accompanied by the names of two prominent citizens, and in places where a local council is established her application must be sent through the local council or court of honor and be endorsed by one member of the council. The qualifications for a captain shall be: A general knowledge of the Handbook for Girl Scouts. A full appreciation of the religious and moral aim underlying the practical instruction of the entire scheme of training. Personal standing and character such as will insure a good moral influence over the girls, and sufficient steadfastness of purpose to carry out the work with energy and perseverance. Age not less than twenty-one years. A captain is assumed to have passed the first-class Scout Test. She wears the all-round cords, if she prefers to do so, instead of putting on all the separate badges as the girls do. Captains may join the Red Cross or any other organization or club. Officers' certificates must be returned if the officer resigns or if the certificate is cancelled, as these are the property of the President. A Lieutenant: The duties of a lieutenant are the same as those of a captain in the absence of the captain. She is chosen by the captain to work with her, and must be over eighteen years of age. Lieutenants may wear captains' badges after passing the first-class test. A Patrol Leader is selected in each patrol by the girls themselves (or, if the girls desire it, by the captain). She holds her office for six months or a year. The girls are apt to select the right girl for the place. The patrol leader must be what her name implies, "A Leader," for she stands next to the captain and lieutenant, and takes either place in their absence. The patrol must not look upon her as a "Boss." This feeling must not enter into the patrol affairs at all, but the girls must remember that they have put her there, and they must do all they can to uphold her and support her in the work. If she is the right sort of girl no such feeling will arise. If a patrol leader gives an order that a Girl Scout does not like or think fair, the Scout must obey the order, but later on she may talk it over with her patrol leader. If, still, she is dissatisfied, she may go to her captain, who must decide the matter. If the patrol leader is not a good officer, the captain may reduce her to Scout rank and have another election. The patrol leader appoints one of her girls as a Corporal, who takes her place when she is absent, and assists her in keeping the patrol leader's books. The duties of the patrol leader are to call the roll and keep a record of attendance of her patrol. The patrol leader keeps a record of the dues. Patrol leaders' registers may be obtained at Headquarters. The patrol leader is responsible for leaving the club room in perfect order. She may have her corporal assist her in tidying up, or she may choose some girls to help her. Patrol Officers: Each patrol selects its own secretary or scribe. The duties of a secretary: To keep a record of what is done at the meetings; to receive and answer letters. Patrol Nurse. The duty of a patrol nurse is to take care of any accidents to the girls during a hike or a picnic. She should possess a first-aid kit. QUALIFICATIONS FOR THE THREE GRADES OF GIRL SCOUTS The Tests ~A Tenderfoot~ (Badge, a Brooch) must be ten years old. Before making the Scout Promise, she must know: How to tie four of the following knots: reef, sheet-bend, clove hitch, bowline, fisherman's, and sheep-shank (see p. 68). The name of the Governor of the State and of the Mayor of the city. The History of the Flag, and how to fly it (see p. 135). The ten Scout Laws. ~A Second-Class Girl Scout~ (Badge, worn on left arm) must have had one month's service as Third-Class Scout. She must pass the following tests: Must have made a drawing of, or cut out and made in cloth or on paper, the Flag of the United States. Know how to cook one simple dish, such as potatoes or a quarter of a pound of meat. Lay a fire in stove, or light a fire in the open with two matches. Make a bed properly, and know how to make an invalid's bed. Know her own measurements (see cards at Headquarters for details of measurement). Must know the eight points of the compass (see compass, p. 71). Must know what to do in case of fire (see p. 125). Must know remedy for poison ivy and what to do to prevent frost-bite (see pp. 134 and 135). Must know health habits (page 96). Must know how to work a button-hole, or knit or crochet, sew a seam and hem a garment. Must know Morse alphabet or semaphore alphabet. ~A First-Class Scout~ (Badge, sewn on left sleeve above elbow, which entitles the wearer to go in for all-round cords) must have gained a Second-Class Badge. Must know how to set a table properly for breakfast, dinner, and supper. Bring a shirt-waist or skirt sewn by herself or equivalent needlework. Be able to describe how to get a specified place and walk one mile in twenty minutes. Must be able to dress and bathe a child two years old or younger (see p. 122). Be able to pass an examination upon the first three chapters of the woman's edition of the American Red Cross Abridged Text-Book in First Aid. Must have knowledge of signaling and of semaphore code or International alphabet (p. 75), writing 32 letters per minute. Must have 50 cents in savings bank earned by herself. Must produce a girl trained by herself in tests, Tenderfoot Class. Know how to distinguish and name ten trees, ten wild flowers, ten wild animals, ten wild birds. Must know simple laws of sanitation, health and ventilation (pp. 111 to 115). Swim fifty yards in her clothes or show a list of twelve satisfactory good turns. Show points of compass without a compass. Must give correctly the Scouts' secret passwords. The subjects for proficiency badges may be undertaken after a girl becomes a Second-Class Girl Scout, and the interest in her work is thus continuous. The badges for proficiency are registered and are issued only by Headquarters. ENROLLMENT Ceremony of Investiture of Scouts The ceremonial for a Tenderfoot to be invested as a Scout should be a serious and earnest function. The captain calls "Fall in." The patrol is formed in a horseshoe, with captain and lieutenant in the gap, and the American flag spread out. The Tenderfoot, with her patrol leader (who will already have taught her tests and knots), stands just inside the circle, opposite the captain. "Salute." All salute her. The lieutenant holds the staff and hat, shoulder-knot and badge, and neckerchief of the Tenderfoot. When ordered to come forward by the captain, the patrol leader brings the Tenderfoot to the center. The captain then asks: "Do you know what your honor means?" The Tenderfoot replies: "Yes, it means that I can be trusted to be truthful and honest"--(or words to that effect). Captain: "Can I trust you on your honor to be loyal to God and the country, to help other people at all times, and to obey the Scout Law?" The Tenderfoot then makes the half salute, and so do the whole company, whilst she says: "I promise, on my honor to be loyal to God and my country, to help other people at all times, and to obey the Scout Law." The captain then says: "I trust you, on your honor, to keep this promise." Whilst the recruit is making her promises aloud, all the Scouts remember their own promises, and vow anew to keep them. The captain orders: "Invest." The patrol leader then steps out, gives the Tenderfoot her staff, and puts her hat, neckerchief, and knot on her. She then marches up the line to the captain, who pins on her trefoil badge, and explains that it is her Scout's "life." If, for misbehavior, her trefoil or life has to be taken from her, she becomes a dead Scout for the time the captain orders--a day or a week--and is in disgrace. The badge may be worn at all times, but the uniform is worn only when the patrol meets. The new Scout is then initiated into the mysteries of secret passwords Be Prepared (said backwards). The captain orders: "To your patrol--quick march." The whole patrol salute and shoulder staves; the new Scout and her patrol leader march back to their places. These badges being the registered designs of the Corps, do not belong to the girls who have passed the tests. The equipment does not belong to the girl except by special permission. Any person wearing Girl Scouts' badges without permission is liable to be prosecuted according to law, and may incur a penalty. Offenses, such as people who are not enrolled saluting, outsiders wearing Girl Scouts' badges, or "Monkey" patrols wearing Girl Scouts' uniforms, must be dealt with by trial at a Court of Honor to determine the forfeit or penalties to be imposed on the culprits. Captains have the power to dismiss a Scout, and the badge and the buttons of her uniform must then be returned. BADGES AND AWARDS The Badge [Illustration] The Girl Scout badge is a clover leaf, the three leaves representing the Girl Scout promises: (1) To do her duty to God and her country. (2) To help other people at all times. (3) To obey the Scout law. When to Wear the Badge A girl asked me what were the occasions on which she might wear her badge, thinking it was not for everyday use. The reply was, "You may wear your badge any day and any hour when you are doing what you think is right. It is only when you are doing wrong that you must take it off; as you would not then be keeping your Scout promises. Thus you should either take off the badge, or stop doing what you think is wrong." The "Thanks" Badge The "Thanks" badge may be given to any one to whom a Girl Scout owes gratitude. Every Girl Scout throughout the whole world when she sees the thanks badge, recognizes that the person who wears it is a friend and it is her duty to salute and ask if she can be of service to the wearer of the badge. [Illustration: The "Thanks" Badge.] The approval of National Headquarters must be obtained before a thanks badge is presented to any one. Medals for Meritorious Deeds These medals are granted only by Headquarters, or by the President on special recommendation from the captain, who should send in a full account with written evidence from two witnesses of the case. These are worn on the right breast, and are awarded as follows: Life-Saving Medals The Bronze Cross. (Red Ribbon.) Presented as the highest possible award for gallantry, this medal may be won only when the claimant has shown special heroism or has faced extraordinary risk of life in saving life. The Silver Cross (Blue Ribbon) is given for gallantry, with considerable risk to herself. [Illustration: Bronze and Silver Cross for Saving Life.] The Badge of Merit (Gilt Wreath. White Ribbon), for a Scout who does her duty exceptionally well, though without grave risks to herself, or for specially good work in recruiting on behalf of the Girl Scout movement, or for especially good record at school for one year in attendance and lessons is awarded when full records of such deeds accompany the claim. [Illustration: Gilt Medal of Merit.] How to Become a "Golden Eaglet" To secure this honor a Girl Scout must win fourteen of the following badges: Ambulance, Clerk, Cook, Child-nurse, Dairy-maid, Matron, Musician, Needlewoman, Naturalist, Sick-nurse, Pathfinder, Pioneer, Signaler, Swimmer, Athletics, Health or Civics. In examining for tests one of the Court of Honor should, if possible, be present. The Local Committee should be satisfied, through the recommendation of the girls' captain, that the tests were satisfactorily performed. TESTS FOR MERIT BADGES A girl must become a Second Class Scout before she is eligible for the proficiency tests. Merit badges are issued to those who show proficiency in the various subjects listed in this chapter. These badges are registered at Headquarters and are issued from no other source. The purpose of the various tests is to secure continuity of work and interest on the part of the girls. The girl who wins one of these merit badges has her interest stimulated and gains a certain knowledge of the subject. It is not to be understood that the knowledge required to obtain a badge is sufficient to qualify one to earn a living in that branch of industry. Merit Badges 1. Ambulance. (Maltese Red Cross.) [Illustration] To obtain a badge for First Aid or Ambulance a Girl Scout must have knowledge of the Sylvester or Schaefer methods of resuscitation in cases of drowning. Must pass examination on first three chapters of Woman's Edition of Red Cross Abridged Text Book on First Aid. Treatment and bandaging the injured (p. 131). How to stop bleeding (p. 133). How to apply a tourniquet (p. 134). Treatment of ivy poison (p. 134). Treatment of snake-bite (p. 59). Treatment of frost-bite (p. 135). How to remove cinder from eye (p. 124). 2. Artist. (Palette.) [Illustration] To obtain an artist's badge a Girl Scout must draw or paint in oils or water colors from nature; or model in clay or plasticine or modeling wax from plaster casts or from life; or describe the process of etching, half-tone engraving, color printing or lithographing; or Arts and Crafts: Carve in wood; work in metals; do cabinet work. 3. Athletics. (Indian Clubs.) [Illustration] To obtain this badge a Scout must: 1. Write a 500-word article on value of Athletics to girls, giving proper method of dressing and naming activities most beneficial. 2. Be a member of a gymnasium class of supervised athletics or a member of an active team for field work. 3. Understand the rules of basket ball, volley ball, long ball, tether ball, tennis and captain ball. 4. Must be able to float, swim, dive and undress in water. 5. Know and be able to teach twenty popular games. 4. Attendance. (Annual.) (Badge, Silver Star.) Must complete one year of regular attendance. 5. Automobiling. (A Wheel.) [Illustration] 1. Must pass an examination equal to that required to obtain a permit or license to operate an automobile in her community. 2. Know how to start a motor and be able to do it and be able to explain necessary precautions. 3. Know how to extinguish burning oil or gasoline. 4. Comply with such requirements as are imposed by body conducting the test for licensing drivers. 6. Aviation. (Monoplane.) [Illustration] To obtain a merit badge for aviation, a Scout must: 1. Have a knowledge of the theory of the aeroplane, helicopter, and ornithopter, and of the spherical and dirigible balloon. 2. Have made a working model of any type of heavier than air machine, that will fly at least twenty-five yards; and have built a box kite that will fly. 3. Have a knowledge of the types and makes of engines used for aeroplanes, of the best known makes of aeroplanes, and of feats performed or of records made by famous aviators. 4. Have a knowledge of names of famous airships (dirigibles) and some of their records. 5. Understand the difference between aviation and aerostation, and know the types of apparatus which come under these two heads. 7. Bird Study. (Bird.) [Illustration] To secure this badge a Scout must: 1. Give list of 30 well known wild birds of United States. 2. State game bird laws of her State. 3. Give list of 30 wild birds personally observed and identified in the open. 4. Give list of 10 wild birds sold as cage birds. 5. Name 10 birds that destroy rats and mice. 6. Give list of 25 birds of value to farmers and fruit growers in the destruction of insect pests on crops and trees. 7. Give name and location of 2 large bird refuges, explain the reason for their establishment and the birds they protect. 8. Tell what the Audubon Society is and how it endeavors to conserve the birds of beautiful plumage. 9. What an aigret is, how obtained, and from what bird. (_Land Birds and Water Birds_, C. A. Reed.) (The Department of Agriculture has a number of bulletins on birds. See list.) 10. What methods to attract birds winter and summer. 8. Boatswain. (Anchor.) [Illustration] To obtain a badge for seamanship a Girl Scout must: 1. Be able to tie six knots. 2. Be able to row, pole, scull, or steer a boat. 3. Land a boat and make fast. 4. State directions by sun and stars. 5. Swim 50 yards with clothes and shoes on. 6. Box the compass and have a knowledge of tides. 7. Know rules of the road for steamers and power boats, also lights for boats underway. See Pilot Rules, Gov. Ptg. Office, Washington, D. C. 9. Child-Nurse. (Green Cross.) [Illustration] To obtain this badge a Girl Scout must: 1. Take care of a child for two hours each day for a month, or care for a baby for one hour a day for a month. 2. Know how to bathe and dress a baby. (Examination should be made with infant present, if possible.) 3. Should understand care of children, have elementary knowledge as to their food, clothing, etc. 4. Know three kindergarten games and describe treatment of simple ailments. 5. Be able to make poultices, and do patching and darning. 6. Know how to test bath heat and use of thermometer; count the pulse (p. 123). 10. Clerk. (Pen and Paper.) [Illustration] 1. Must have legible handwriting; ability to typewrite; a knowledge of spelling and punctuation; a library hand; or, as an alternative, write in shorthand from dictation at twenty words a minute as a minimum. 2. Ability to write a letter from memory on a subject given verbally five minutes previously. 3. Knowledge of simple bookkeeping and arithmetic. 4. Keep complete account of personal receipts and expenditure for six months, or household accounts for three months. 11. Civics. (Eight-point Star.) [Illustration] To obtain this badge a Scout must: 1. Be able to recite the preamble to the Constitution. 2. Be able to state the chief requirements of citizenship of a voter, in her state, territory or district. 3. Be able to outline the principal points in the naturalization laws in the United States. 4. Know how a president is elected and installed in office, also method of electing vice-president, senators, representatives, giving the term of office and salary of each. 5. Be able to name the officers of the President's Cabinet and their portfolios. 6. The number of Justices of the Supreme Court of the United States, the method of their appointment and the term of office. 7. Know how the Governor of her state, the lieutenant-governor, senators and representatives are elected and their term of office. Also explain the government of the District of Columbia and give the method of filling the offices. 8. Know the principal officers in her town or city and how elected and the term of office. 9. Know the various city departments, and their duties, such as fire, police, board of health, charities and education. 10. Be able to name and give location of public buildings and points of interest in her city or town. 11. Tell the history and object of the Declaration of Independence. 12. Cook. (Gridiron.) [Illustration] 1. Must know how to wash up, wait on table, light a fire, lay a table for four, and hand dishes correctly at table. 2. Clean and dress fowl. 3. Clean a fish. 4. How to make a cook place in the open. 5. Make tea, coffee or cocoa, mix dough and make bread in oven and state approximately cost of each dish. 6. Know how to make up a dish out of what was left over from the meals of the day before. 7. Know the order in which a full course dinner is served. 8. Know how to cook two kinds of meat. 9. Boil or bake two kinds of vegetables successfully. 10. How to make two salads. 11. How to make a preserve of berries or fruit, or how to can them. 12. Estimate cost of food per day for one week. 13. Invalid Cooking. (A palm leaf.) [Illustration] 1. How to make gruel, barley water, milk toast, oyster or clam soup, beef tea, chicken jelly. 14. Cyclist. (A Wheel.) [Illustration] 1. Own a bicycle. 2. Be able to mend a tire. 3. Pledge herself to give the services of her bicycle to the government in case of need. 4. If she ceases to own a bicycle, she must return the badge. 5. Read a map properly. 6. Know how to make reports if sent out scouting on a road. 15. Dairy. (Sickle.) [Illustration] 1. Know how to test cow's milk with Babcock Test (p. 119). 2. To make butter. 3. How to milk. 4. Know how to do general dairy work, such as cleaning pans, etc., sterilizing utensils. 5. Know how to feed, kill, and dress poultry. 6. Test five cows for ten days each with Babcock Test and make proper reports. 16. Electricity. (Lightning.) To obtain a merit badge for Electricity, a Scout must: 1. Illustrate the experiment by which the laws of electrical attraction and repulsion are shown. 2. Understand the difference between a direct and an alternating current, and show uses to which each is adapted. Give a method of determining which kind flows in a given circuit. 3. Make a simple electro-magnet. 4. Have an elementary knowledge of the construction of simple battery cells, and of the working of electric bells and telephones. 5. Be able to replace fuses and to properly splice, solder, and tape rubber-covered wires. 6. Demonstrate how to rescue a person in contact with a live electrical wire, and have a knowledge of the method of resuscitation of a person insensible from shock. 17. Farmer. (Sun.) [Illustration] 1. Incubating chickens, feeding and rearing chickens under hens. 2. Storing eggs (p. 116). 3. Knowledge of bees. 4. Swarming, hiving and use of artificial combs. 5. Care of pigs. 6. How to cure hams (p. 120). 7. Know how to pasteurize milk (page 116). 18. Gardening. (A Trowel.) [Illustration] 1. Participate in the home and school garden work of her community. 2. Plan, make and care for either a back-yard garden, or a window garden for one season. 3. Give plan of her work, the flowers or vegetables planted, the size and cost of her plot and the profit gained therefrom. 4. She must also supervise or directly care for the home lawns, flower beds; attend to the watering, the mowing of the grass, keeping yards free from waste paper and rubbish, to the clipping of shrubbery and hedges. This test is open to scouts already in the Girls' Garden and Canning Clubs throughout the country and a duplicate of their reports, sent in for their season's work, to the state agricultural agents, or agricultural colleges, in co-operation with the Department of Agriculture of the United States, may be submitted as their test material for this badge. _Farmers' Bulletins_, 218, 185, 195. 19. Personal Health. (Dumb-bells.) [Illustration] To obtain a badge for personal health, a Scout must: 1. Eat no sweets, candy, or cake between meals for three months. 2. Drink nothing but water, chocolate, or cocoa for a year. 3. Walk a mile daily for three months. 4. Sleep with open window. 5. Take a bath daily for a year, or sponge bath. 6. Write a statement of the care of the teeth, and show that her teeth are in good condition as a result of proper care. 7. Tell the difference in effect of a cold bath and a hot bath. 8. Describe the effect of lack of sleep and improper nourishment on the growing girl. 9. Tell how to care for the feet on a march. 10. Describe a good healthful game and state its merits. 11. Tell the dangers of specialization and over-training in the various forms of athletics, and the advantages of an all-around development. 12. Give five rules of health which if followed will keep a girl healthy (page 96). 20. Public Health. (U. S. A. Flag.) [Illustration] 1. Write an article, not over 500 words, about the country-wide campaign against the housefly, and why, giving the diseases it transmits and make a diagram showing how the fly carries diseases, typhoid, tuberculosis and malaria. (See _Public Health Service Bulletins_ on these subjects.) (Also see page 117.) 2. Tell how to cleanse and purify a house after the presence of contagious disease. 3. State the laws of her community for reporting contagious disease. 4. Tell how a city should protect its supplies of milk, meat and exposed foods. 5. Tell how these articles should be cared for in the home. (See _Farmers' Bulletin_--"Care of Food in the Home.") (Also see pages 115 and 116.) 6. Tell how her community cares for its garbage. 7. State rules for keeping Girl Scout camp sanitary--disposal of garbage, rubbish, etc. 21. Horsemanship. (Spur.) [Illustration] 1. Demonstrate riding at a walk, trot and gallop. 2. Know how to saddle and bridle a horse correctly, and how to groom a horse properly. 3. Know how to harness correctly in a single or double harness, and how to drive. 4. Know how to tether and hobble and when to give feed and drink. 5. State lighting up time, city law. 6. How to stop run-away horse (page 135). 22. Home-Nursing. (Red Cross, Green Ring.) [Illustration] 1. Must pass tests recommended by American Red Cross Text Book and Elementary Hygiene and Home Care of the Sick, by Jane A. Delaro, Department of the American Red Cross. These tests may be had from Headquarters, upon request. 2. Know how to make invalid's bed. 3. Know how to take temperature; how to count pulse and respirations. 4. Know how to prepare six dishes of food suitable to give an invalid. 23. Housekeeper. (Crossed Keys.) [Illustration] 1. Tell how a house should be planned to give efficiency in housework. 2. Know how to use a vacuum cleaner, how to stain and polish hardwood floors, how to clean wire window screens, how to put away furs and flannels, how to clean glass, kitchen utensils, brass and sinks. 3. Marketing. Know three different cuts of meat and prices of each. Know season for chief fruits and vegetables, fish and game. Know how flour, sugar, rice, cereals and vegetables are sold; whether by packages, pound, or bulk, quarts, etc. 4. Tell how to choose furniture. 5. Make a list of table and kitchen utensils, dishes for dining-room and glasses necessary for a family of four people. 6. How to make a fireless cooker, small refrigerator and window box for winter use. 7. Prepare a budget showing proper per cent of income to be used for food, shelter, clothing, savings, etc. 24. Interpreter. (Clasped Hands.) [Illustration] 1. Be able to carry on a simple conversation in any other language than her own. 2. Write a letter in a foreign language. 3. Read or translate a passage from a book or newspaper in French, German, Italian, or in any other language than her own. 25. Laundress. (Flatiron.) [Illustration] 1. Know how to wash and iron a garment, clear starch and how to do up a blouse. 2. Press a skirt and coat. 3. Know how to use soap and starch, how to soften hard water, and how to use a wringer or mangle. 26. Marksmanship. (Rifles.) [Illustration] 1. Pass tests in judging distances, 300 to 600 yards and in miniature rifle shooting, any position, twenty rounds at 15 or 25 yards, 80 out of 100. 2. Know how to load pistol, how to fire and aim or use it. 3. Or be proficient in fencing or archery. 27. Music. (Harp.) [Illustration] 1. Know how to play a musical instrument. Be able to do sight reading. Have a knowledge of note signs and terms. 2. Name two master composers and two of their greatest works. 3. Be able to name all of the 25 instruments in the orchestra in their proper order. 4. Never play rag time music, except for dancing. Or, as an alternative: 1. Have a knowledge of singing. Have a pleasing voice. 2. Know two Scout songs and be able to sing them, or lead the Scout Troop in singing. 3. Be able to do sight reading. 4. Have a knowledge of note signs and terms. Or, as an alternative: 1. Sound correctly on a Bugle the customary army calls of the United States. 28. Naturalist. (Flower.) [Illustration] 1. Make a collection of fifty species of wild flowers, ferns and grasses and correctly name them. Or, 1. Fifty colored drawings of wild flowers, ferns or grasses drawn by herself. 2. Twelve sketches or photographs of animal life. 29. Needlewoman. (Scissors.) [Illustration] 1. Know how to cut and fit. How to sew by hand and by machine. 2. Know how to knit, embroider or crochet. 3. Bring two garments cut out by herself; sew on hooks and eyes and buttons. Make a button-hole. 4. Produce satisfactory examples of darning and patching. 30. Pathfinder. (Hand.) [Illustration] 1. Know the topography of the city, all the public buildings, public schools, and monuments. 2. Know how to use the fire alarm. 3. In the country know the country lanes and roads and by-paths, so as to be able to direct and guide people at any time in finding their way. 4. Know the distance to four neighboring towns and how to get to these towns. 5. Draw a map of the neighborhood with roads leading to cities and towns. 6. Be able to state the points of the compass by stars or the sun, using watch as compass when sun is invisible. 31. Pioneer. (Axes.) [Illustration] 1. Tie six knots. Make a camp kitchen. 2. Build a shack suitable for three occupants. 32. Photography. (Camera.) 1. Know use of lens, construction of camera, effect of light on sensitive films and the action of developers. 2. Be able to show knowledge of several printing processes. 3. Produce 12 photos of scout activities, half indoor and half outdoors, taken, developed and printed by herself, also 3 pictures of either birds, animals, or fish in their natural haunts, 3 portraits and 3 landscapes. 33. Scribe. (Open Book.) [Illustration] 1. Must present a certificate from teacher of her school, showing a year's record of excellence in scholarship, attendance and deportment. 2. Describe in an article, not to exceed a thousand words, how a newspaper is made; its different departments, the functions of its staff; how the local news is gathered; how the news of the world is gathered and disseminated. 3. Define briefly a news item. 4. Define briefly an editorial. 5. Define briefly a special story. 6. Tell how printer's ink is made. 7. Tell how paper is made. 8. Describe evolution of typesetting from hand composition to machine composition. 9. Write 12 news articles (preferably one a month), not to exceed 500 words each, on events that come within the observation of the Scout that are not public news, as for instance, school athletic events, entertainments of Scouts, church or school, neighborhood incidents. 10. Write a special story on some phase of scout-craft, a hike, or camping experience, etc. Or, as an alternative: Write a good poem. Write a good story. Know principal American authors of prose and verse in the past and present century. 34. Signaling. (Two Flags.) [Illustration] 1. Send and receive a message in two of the following systems of signaling: Semaphore, Morse. Not fewer than twenty-four letters a minute. 2. Receive signals by sound, whistle, bugle or buzzer. 3. Or general service (International Morse Code). 35. Swimmer. (Life-buoy.) [Illustration] 1. Swim fifty yards in clothes, skirt and boots. 2. Demonstrate diving. 3. Artificial respiration. 4. Flinging a life-line. 5. Flinging a life-buoy. 6. Saving the drowning. Requirements for examination must be sent to parents of candidate for approval. Approval must also be obtained from the family physician or some other doctor. 36. Telegraphy. (Telegraph Pole.) [Illustration] 1. Be able to read and send a message in Morse and in Continental Code, twenty letters per minute, or must obtain a certificate for wireless telegraphy. (These certificates are awarded by Government instructors.) (See p. 77.) [Illustration: Captain's Badge] Part III GAMES AND ATHLETICS FOR GIRLS The finest type of physical vigor is developed from playing vigorous outdoor games. This applies to girls as well as to boys. Games have the great advantage over drills and gymnastics that they are worth while for the fun alone. Play is a necessary and natural activity for every individual. Unless each one of us gives the proper share of her time to wholesome forms of recreation, she cannot be cheerful and happy, and thus she cannot influence those around her toward greater happiness. Each one of us should so plan each day that we shall spend at least one hour playing vigorous games outdoors. The younger girls should use the whole afternoon for play and recreation. No girl can become a normal woman without having had her share of joyful and active play. Girls nowadays are playing more and more, and growing stronger and more athletic. As a result they have better health and greater beauty. No beauty parlor can produce the perfect complexion and bright eyes which nature gives to the out-of-doors girl. [Illustration] There are certain cautions which girls should use in practicing games and athletics. After they are twelve or thirteen, they should avoid sports like high or broad jumping, which cause a heavy jar upon landing. Girls should not compete in long distance running, or in games which call for violent and long-continued exertion. Basket-ball may easily be too severe if played according to boys' rules or for long halves. In such games there should be a gradual preparation for the competition. An examination of the heart by a physician is very desirable, before this type of game is played. Girls frequently overdo rope-skipping. No girl should jump more than fifty times in succession. Excessively keen competition under trying conditions frequently has a bad effect upon girls of a nervous temperament. Of course, girls should rest and not take part in active games when they are physically incapacitated. There are, however, a wide variety of games and sports in which girls may find both pleasure and profit. The ideal type of exercise for girls is found in swimming, walking and similar activities in which the exertion is not excessively violent, and which call for long-continued or repeated efforts. Girls excel in endurance in such sports. Team games are especially valuable for girls as they need the moral discipline of learning to efface themselves as individuals and to play as a member of the team. That is, they learn to cooperate. Among the team games suitable for girls are: field hockey, soccer, baseball played with a soft ball and basket-ball. Among athletic events that may be used for girls, are: short sprints, usually not over fifty yards, throwing balls for distance, relay races and balancing competitions. Walking is a delightful sport when done at a good pace, in the country. All girls are fond of rope-skipping and skating. Novelty competitions, in wide variety, may easily be invented to amuse a group of Scouts. The following will suggest many other variations: A short walking match, heel and toe. The distance may vary from twenty to one hundred yards or more. The same competition may be conducted going backward. Have all the girls take a prone position, face downward, hands and feet in a specified position. On a signal, get up and run to the finishing line. The usual signal is "On your marks," "Get set," "Go." There should be no movement whatever until the final signal "Go." Have the players hop backward or forward in a race. Various combinations of these will readily suggest themselves. Two or more teams of girls may find much fun in simple passing games. Arrange the teams in line, either seated or standing. Have them pass such an object as a bean bag, ball or stick in a specified way. For instance, if the girls are seated, one behind the other, the bean bag may be passed backward over the right shoulder with one hand, around the back of the last girl, and forward over the left shoulder. The game starts with the bag on the ground in front of the leader, and is finished when the leader replaces it there, after it has passed through the hands of each girl on the team. Be careful to see that there are the same number of girls on each team, and that the lines occupy, when arranged, the same space on the ground. Next let the players pass the bag backward overhead with both hands, and forward in any manner they like. The following variation will introduce an additional feature that makes the game all the livelier. Let the object be passed back to the last player who then runs forward and takes the place of the leading player, every player in that line moving back one position as this player runs to the front of the line. This is continued until the captain or leader has gone through every place in the line and run back to the front. The team whose captain gets to the front first, wins the game. Another stage of this game may be played by stretching a cord or rope across in front of the two lines, eight or ten feet high. As each player advances, the bag or ball must be thrown over the rope from the near to the far side, caught, and then thrown back. Any player failing to catch the object must make the throw over again. After she returns to the head of the line, the object is passed back to the last player in the same manner, and the game continues until the captain or leading player has passed through every position in the line, and come back to the front. A similar game may be played with a basket-ball and basket-ball goals, each girl being required to shoot a goal at one or both ends of the basket-ball court. In the woods or in camp a ring or hoop may be substituted for the basket-ball goal. Hundreds of such simple games are found in the books on games listed in the Handbook. A few of the more useful and popular games are described below. Three Deep Twenty-four or more players form a circle of pairs with space enough between the players (who stand closely one behind the other, facing the center of the circle) to allow the runners to turn and run in all directions. Two players on the outside of the circle and at a distance from each other begin the game. One of these is called the "tagger," the other is "It." She tries to tag "It" before she can secure a place in front of any of the pairs forming the circle. If she succeeds, rôles are changed, the player who has been tagged then becomes the "tagger" and the former "tagger" tries to secure a place in front of some pair. But whenever the runner (the player pursued) has succeeded in getting in front of a pair before being tagged, then the hindmost (the last or third, in the respective rank) must take to her heels and seek to evade the unsuccessful "tagger" who now turns her attention to the new runner. In trying to evade a tagger the successive players may run in any direction, either left or right, outside the circle, but not pass in front of any one rank to another rank in such a manner as to induce wrong starts. A hindmost player may also form in front of his own rank, making the second player in such rank hindmost or "third." The play is always directed against the third or last of a rank, two players being the number limited to each place. (When classes of players in the beginning are too large the circle may be formed by rows or ranks of threes, instead of twos or pairs.) Expert players may form several circles and run from circle to circle, two pairs playing simultaneously. The above play may be varied in a number of ways. Day and Night The players divide into two parties, form in two lines, back to back, about three paces apart. One of the lines is named the "Day Party" the other the "Night Party." The leader has a disk painted black on one side and white on the other. (A coin may be used instead of the disk.) In front of each party is a goal. The leader throws the disk into the air. If the disk alights with the white side up the leader calls "Day." The "Day Party" then rushes toward its goal and the "Night Party" pursues, tagging as many players of the "Day Party" as possible. These they take back to their own line. The disk is thrown again, and the party whose side turns up starts for their goal as before. The game continues in this way until all the players on one of the sides are lost. Sculptor One of the players is chosen as the "Sculptor" and she arranges the other players in different positions and attitudes as statues. No player dares move or speak, for as soon as she does the sculptor punishes her by beating her with a knotted handkerchief or towel (the sack-beetle). After having arranged the players to suit her fancy the sculptor leaves the playground, saying: "The sculptor is not at home." No sooner is she gone than the statues come to life, sing, dance, jump and play havoc in general. On the return of the sculptor she counts, "One, two, three," and any player who is not in her former posture at "Three" receives a beating with the knotted handkerchief from the sculptor. Should the sculptor punish the wrong statue all the players rush at her with knotted handkerchiefs and drive her to a goal previously decided upon, and the game is resumed with some other player as sculptor. Cross Tag Any player who is chased may be relieved by any other player running between her and the one trying to tag her. The latter must then run after the player who ran between, till she in turn is relieved. Dodge Ball Of any even number of players, half form a circle, while the other half stand inside the ring, facing outward. The players in the center dodge the ball, which, while in play, is thrown by any of those forming the circle. Those who are hit with the ball take their places among those around the circle, and have an equal chance at those remaining in the center. One is put out at a time. This is kept up until no one is left, in the circle, after which the players exchange places, that is, those who were in the circle now form around the circle, and _vice versa_. Kim's Game Place twenty or thirty small articles on a tray or table, or the floor, and cover with a cloth--different kinds of buttons, pencils, corks, nuts, string, knives, or other such small things. Make a list and have a column opposite for each player's name. Uncover for just one minute and then take each player by herself and check off the articles she can remember. The winner is the one who remembers the most. Morgan's Game Players run quickly to a certain bill-board or shop window where an umpire is posted to time them a minute for their observation. They then run back to head-quarters and report all they can remember of the advertisements on bill-board or objects in shop window. Scout Meets Scout Patrols of Scouts are to approach each other from a distance. The first to give the signal that the other is in sight wins. In this game it is not fair to disguise but hiding the approach in any way is admissible. You can climb a tree, ride in any vehicle, or hide behind some slowly moving or stationary object. But be sure to keep in touch with the one who is to give the signal. It is best that others should not know the Scouts' secret passwords, so one is given at a time in this book for those that can _search best_. Acting Charades may be indoors or out. A very good one is for two or three players to act as if they wanted some special thing that is in sight. The first who discovers what this is then selects some other players to act with her. Unprepared Plays Relate the plot of some simple play, after which assign a part to each of several to act out. Let them confer for a short time and then act it. This develops many fine talents and is one of the most useful games for the memory, expression, and imagination. A Scout always shakes hands when she loses a game and congratulates the winner. INVENTORY GAME. Let each girl go into a room for half a minute and when she comes out let her make a list of what she has seen. Then compare lists to find who has seen the most. TESTING NOSES. This is easiest with the competitors blindfolded. Let them smell different things and tell what they are. Also the objects may be placed in bags but this means much more work. CHASING AN OWL. Another good stalking game is chasing the owl. This is done in thick woods where one Scout represents the owl hooting at intervals and then moving to one side for a distance. Each pursuer when seen is called out of the game and the owl, if a real good one, may get safely back to her stump. TURKEY AND WILDCAT is played by the turkey blindfolded "going to roost" in some place where there are plenty of twigs or dry leaves to crack and rustle. At the first sound the turkey jumps. If not then in reach of the wildcat she is safe and another wildcat has a chance. This is sometimes very laughable for the turkey being blindfolded may jump right on the wildcat. FAR AND NEAR. On any walk, preferably in patrol formation, let each keep a list of things seen such as birds, flowers, different kinds of trees, insects, vehicles, tracks, or other "sign." Score up in points at the end of the walk on return to the club rooms. ATHLETIC FEATS The Palm Spring Stand at a little distance from a wall with your face toward it and leaning forward until you are able to place the palm of your hand quite flat on the wall; you must then take a spring from the hand and recover your upright position without moving either of your feet. It is better to practice it first with the feet at a little distance only from the wall, increasing the space as you gradually attain greater proficiency in the exercise. Foot-Throw Put a basket-ball between your feet in such a manner that it is held between your ankles and the inner side of the feet; then kick up backward with both your feet and in this manner try to jerk the ball over your head, catching it when it comes down. Hand Wrestling Two players face each other, feet planted firmly, full stride position apart, right hands grasped. Each player tries to displace the other player. One foot moved displaces a player. Sitting Toe Wrestle Two players sit on a mat facing each other, knees bent perpendicularly, toes touching opponent's. Pass stick under knees and clasp your hands in front of knees. When the signal is given, attempt to get your toes under opponent's toes and upset her. (An excellent list of games to be used while in camp will be found on page 440 of _Games for the Home, School, and Gymnasium_, by Jessie H. Bancroft. See, also, additional books listed under this topic in the Handbook.) CAMPING It is advisable that Patrols or Companies should have some place of their own at which to camp. Some small plot of woodland is easily secured near most any of our cities. At the beaches it is frequently impossible to secure the privacy desirable. The seaside is not easily fenced in. If you own your camping ground all desirable sanitary conditions can be looked after and buildings of a more or less permanent nature erected. Even a "brush house" in a spot which you are allowed to use exclusively is better than having to hunt a place every time you want to camp out. "Gypsying" from place to place is unadvisable. When you have your own camp, too, much better chances for study will be found possible. You will have your own trees, flowers, and birds to notice and care for, and a record of them is valuable even in a very limited space. Think of the beautiful work of White--_The Natural History of Selborne_. Name your camp by all means. Long ago we formed the habit of naming all our camps using by preference the name of the first bird seen there. Now we use the Seminole name. So we have our "Ostata" and "Tashkoka." Some of the names are too hard, though, for civilized tongues. "Mooganaga" for instance, might hurt somebody's mouth when she tries to pronounce it. When going into camp _never_ forget matches. When leaving camp I used to put all my spare matches into a dry empty bottle, cork it tight, and hide it. After many years I have found my matches as good as "new" where I had hidden them. By rubbing two sticks together one can make a fire without matches. Camping out is one of my hobbies. Walks and picnics are all very well as far as they go, but to get the full benefit of actual contact with Nature it is absolutely necessary to camp out. That does not mean sleeping on wet bare ground but just living comfortably out of doors, where every breath of heaven can reach you and all wild things are in easy reach. A camp can be easily planned within daily reach of many of our large cities but should be far enough to escape city sounds and smells. It is not a camp, however, if it is where a stream of strangers can pass by at any time of the day or night within sight and hearing. Water is a supreme requisite at any camp. Water to swim in may be dispensed with in extreme cases, but you can't carry your water with you and have a comfortable time. I have been where I had to do it so I know how it is. Also I have had to dig water out of the ground. That is not an easy operation so be sure and camp near a well or spring. Wood, too, you will want and it must be dry. Don't try to cook with fat pine. It's all right to kindle with but not for cooking. Your bacon fried over it will be as fine eating as a porous plaster. Fry your potatoes. If you must roast them dig a hole in the ashes and cover them deep. Then go away and forget them. Let some one else come along and cook all sorts of things on top of them. When you come back rake them out of the ashes and astonish every one. Be sure your cooking fire is not too big. You must be able to get up to it comfortably close without scorching your face. Start a small fire and feed it as required with small dry twigs. Cooking over an outdoor fire is a fine art and has to be studied carefully. It should be called almost a post-graduate course in the camp studies. Of course the regular camp-fire can be made as big and smoky as you like. Smoke is fine to watch but not to breathe. Even the mosquitoes dislike it. [Illustration] Roughing it is all very fine to talk about, but it is best to make your camp as comfortable as possible. The ground is good to sleep upon but not stones and sticks. It's really astonishing how big a stick, no longer than your finger, can grow in one night. Take my word for it and don't try it. It won't pay. A hammock is my preference but a cot is about as good. On a pinch twigs and grass are not to be despised. Moss is apt to be moist but there is no possible objection to clean dry sand. Be sure not to let your fire get away from you and spread. Besides the damage to trees and fences that it may do it is impossible to tell what suffering it may cause to animal life. So, be very careful. * * * * * To prevent forest fires Congress passed the law approved May 5, 1900, which-- ~Forbids setting fire to the woods, and~ ~Forbids leaving any fires unextinguished.~ When you leave your camp clean up. Fragments of food--not pickles--can be put up somewhere for the birds. At some of our camps we have regular places to feed the birds and they get to know what time to come there. Here in the woods my wrens have established for themselves the hour of sunrise, and it is partly to escape their scolding for neglect that I get up with the sun. Mrs. Jenny scolds furiously but for actual singing she can beat any bird in the woods. Perhaps you notice that we have said nothing about snakes. Now it is really a very rare thing to see a snake in the woods. You have to look very carefully to find them, for they seem to be about the most timid of all creatures. So far as danger from poisonous snakes is concerned you are in much more danger from the driver of a dray than from a snake. Take our word for it, snakes are much more afraid of you than you are of them. Give them the least little bit of a chance and they will be out of the way before you can see them. A gorged snake--that is one that has just taken a full meal--may be sluggish but in a majority of cases he will crawl away and hide in some secure place till the process of digestion is over. Do not go near a tub if you are afraid of water for you can get drowned in it about as easy as you can get bitten by a snake in the woods and to wind up the subject, not one-tenth of the people who get snake bitten, die from it. A very few do die but most of them die from the bad treatment they receive afterwards. The "deadly auto" will not get out of your way but all snakes will. Once in a while you may find clinging in a low bush a pretty little green snake. It will readily submit to being handled and is perfectly harmless. We have found these snakes useful in the house to kill flies. The harmless snakes are the brown snake, the common banded moccasin, the black mountain snake, the green snake. The garter and ring-necked snakes wear Eve's wedding-ring as a collar. They cannot hurt and they eat up quantities of insects, but beware of the yellow and brown rattlesnakes, especially after rainy weather, for it is said that after wet weather they cannot make any noise with their rattles and therefore you are not warned of their presence. The most deadly snake, the moccasin, is brownish with a flat head. The green lizards, too, will almost rid a house of flies if left to wander about at will. The fence lizard, a scaly alligator looking chap, is just as useful but never gets tame. Try petting a toad some time. He will get to be quite at home in a garden and pay well, for he will eat all kinds of destructive insects. Some gardeners buy toads, paying as high as a quarter apiece, for they know how much good they can do. A toad digs his hole backwards. Watch him and see the fun. In the spring if there is water near he may be induced to sing to you. If you think he is slow and clumsy you have only to see how quick he can catch a fly. Provisioning a Camp This should be a matter of mature consideration. Unless there is some place near by where deficiencies can be supplied your camp may be a misery instead of a pleasure. Have lists made out of the things each is to bring, if it is to be a coöperative affair. It may be best to have a committee, even if it is a committee of one, to do all the buying. But even in this case individual tastes must be consulted. A full list should be made out and strictly adhered to. At one camp where each brought what she thought best there were six cans of soup, four pounds of sugar, and no tea or coffee. Canned goods are all very well if you do not have to carry them too far. So too are potatoes. For lightness on long trips, dried fruits and meal or grits are a wise selection. Oatmeal is light and easy to cook. Prepared batter-cake flour is a pure joy to the camp cook. Once when camping in the mountains we had unexpected difficulties. We were at such an elevation that water boiled at too low a temperature to cook many things "done," so the frying-pan there reigned supreme. As to that same frying-pan be sure to select the "long handled kind." If not you will have to splice out the handle with a long stick. Never pack up your "unwetables" in paper bags. At any time a shower or even a heavy dew at night may make you run short on salt, sugar, or flour. Covered tin cans are too cheap to make it necessary to run any such risks. Have a lantern and oil of course. Candles blow out too easily to be of much use. For sudden calls for a light the pocket electric affair is very good and cheap. Keep it standing up. The batteries waste quite fast if it is left down on the side. The quantity of provisions to be taken depends on the length of stay. Consult any good military or naval ration list and a very good guess can be made. They all seem to lay stress on beans which certainly are very good if you have the "Boston" appetite. Keep your camp clean. Keep it in order. Let your motto be, "Tidy as you go." It is as bad to have to hunt for a thing you want in camp as it is at home and particularly exasperating if, when you have found it, you must wash it before using. "A place for everything and that place anywhere" is a bad camp rule, though it does sound as if it was a real easy way of disposing of the matter. Dig a hole to throw slops in and do not let them "fly" on the ground. You may want to sit down right there. Whatever the birds will eat should be put aside for them. All other scraps and things that may become offensive _must_ be buried. Don't start to breed flies or fever. When near the water some part of this rule may be dispensed with in favor of the fish and crabs. They may be judiciously baited up, but if you are going to fish for them see that they are not overfed. There are times and seasons when wild fruits and berries are a most welcome addition to the camp fare, but unless you are perfectly sure of the supply do not reckon on them too much in making up your provision list. Better let them be a sort of joyful surprise. So too of fish and game. "Don't count your chickens before they are hatched." Fresh smilax shoots can scarcely be told from asparagus. Palmetto cabbage well cooked is fine; poorly prepared it is vile. Let some one that knows about these things "do" them for you. The "gipsy kettle" is picturesque and only picturesque. Drive a stout crotched stake on each side of the fire and put a stout stick across them. Use strong wire hooks--S-shaped on which to hang pots over the fire. If hung through the handle on the stick they are apt to boil over and put out the fire before you know it. They may be quickly lifted from the wire hooks as soon as they begin to look dangerous. Even the coffee-pot may be rigged with a wire handle by which to be hung. Wire and string are our special hobbies in camp. Fan a fire instead of blowing it. Your breath has lost most of its combustible gas. A tin or wooden plate makes a good fan. Put away dry kindling every night. You don't know what sort of weather it will be tomorrow. Use all precaution against your fire spreading. This is particularly necessary where there are tents. A dry tent will almost "whisk" up in smoke if the fire catches it. Rake dry leaves well away from about the fire. It may be best sometimes to make "a burn" round the camp. Do this a little at a time beating out all traces of the fire in the part burnt over. Be in no hurry about this but be thorough. Leave no smouldering embers or chunks of rotten wood smoking behind you. Burn clean as you go. Camp Oven The camp kitchen or camp oven is made with two lines of soda bricks, stones, or thick logs flattened at the top, about six feet long, slightly splayed from each other, being four inches apart at one end and eight inches at the other. The big end should be towards the wind, so that a sort of tunnel is formed in the big end at windward. Start your fire and the draught will carry the heat along the tunnel. Daily Routine in Camp _Have a set of general orders posted every morning. There should be one officer of the day and one orderly. These will be appointed in turn. The general order should be read before breakfast and include all duties and so far as possible the excursions and games for the day. In appointing cooks and details for the various duties be sure not to work the "willing horse" too hard but let all share as much alike as possible. Some will always want to volunteer too often and some will try to avoid certain duties distasteful to themselves or "swap" with others. This should not be allowed but helping must never be barred completely. Inspect camp personally at least once a day and call attention to shortcomings kindly without chiding. You can help your girls to help themselves. A "driver" in camp is sure to breed hard feelings and cause discontent. The camp is a hard school for the instructor. One of the necessary laws in a camp is that after lights are out at night, no one must speak. Silence should reign._ * * * * * In some places mosquitoes are very troublesome. Oil of citronella will drive them away for a time but a "smudge" may be necessary. They won't stay in smoke or wind, so hunt the breeze. There are some other flies just as bad to which the same treatment may be applied. "Black-flies" of the northern woods are about the worst insect pest in America, though the mosquitoes in some parts of the South, are nearly as bad. In some of the coast regions, too, there is a species of "sand-fly" or midge that is exceedingly annoying, but all of these are readily controlled by the "smudge." This is a steady smoke not necessarily of an ill-smelling nature. One of the very best materials for a "smudge" is green cedar branches. They need some pretty hot coals to keep them smouldering but are very effective. Very few accidents need happen in camp. But still it may be a wise precaution to go over with each patrol, before the camping trip, some simple exercise in bandaging and other "First Aid" exercises. In a book of the scope of this one it is not possible to give a full course of instruction in such matters, so it seems best to make only casual mention and leave details to the judgment of the patrol leaders and captains. [Illustration] If any boating is to be a part of the program they should inform themselves carefully which of their patrol can swim and just how expert they are. Also instruct in methods of throwing things to a drowning person or one who has just met with some mishap in a boat--such for instance as losing an oar. A board or a plank should not be thrown toward a person in the water but launched toward them. When adrift in an unmanageable boat cast anchor and wait for assistance. _Never rock a boat for fun._ A Scout who so far forgets herself as to do such a foolhardy act should be forbidden to go into a boat again for some time as a punishment. Most drowning accidents are from some such _fun_. It is _sin_--not _fun_. When bathing obey strictly all orders regarding distance to be ventured and other rules. You may think they are mere summary restrictions but you are probably not the best judge. Last summer a party of boys were bathing. Contrary to orders they scattered apart instead of keeping close together. While the Captain's back was turned looking after the smaller boys, some of the big boys began to dare each other to go farther and farther out. When the Captain blew the whistle for them some still persisted in swimming away from the beach and one of them was drowned. And to make it still worse he drowned in shallow water where, if he had only known or had kept his wits about him, he could have waded ashore. Camp Orders _In going into camp it is essential to have a few "Standing Orders" published, which may be added to from time to time, if necessary. These should be carefully explained to patrol leaders, who should then be held fully responsible for their Scouts carrying them out exactly._ _Such orders might point out that each patrol will camp separately from the others, and that there will be a comparison between the respective camps as to cleanliness and good order of tents and surrounding ground._ _Patrol leaders to report on the good or indifferent work of their Scouts, which will be recorded in the Captain's book of marks._ _Bathing should be under strict supervision to prevent non-swimmers getting into dangerous water. No girl must bathe when not well._ _Bathing picket of two good swimmers will be on duty while bathing is going on, and ready to help any girl in distress. This picket will be in the boat with bathing costume and overcoat on. They may bathe only when the general bathing is over and the last of the bathers has left the water. If bathing in the surf, a stake should be driven into the sand on the beach and a rope securely fastened to the stake so that non-swimmers can hold on to the rope in the water._ _Orders as to what is to be done in case of fire alarm._ _Orders as to boundaries, grounds to be worked over, damages to fences, property, good drinking water, etc._ _No Scout allowed out of bounds without leave._ _No lads allowed inside bounds without leave._ Camping Equipment Necessary for One Week or Longer 1 Transport wagon. 2 Tents for girls. 1 Tent for officer. 3 Mallets and sufficient tent-pegs. 2 Blankets for each Scout. 2 Blankets for officer. 1 Kit bag each (2 ft. by 1 ft. or bigger). 8 Waterproof ground sheets. 3 Buckets. 3 Hurricane lamps. 2 Balls of twine (medium). 1 Spade. 1 Hatchet. Kitchen Equipment Bowls. 2 Saucepans. 1 Large frying pan. Kettle. Gridiron. Butcher knife. Kitchen fork. Spoons, ladles, and tea strainer. Six tea cloths. Cleaning rags. Chopping board and knife. Kitchen soap and scouring powder. 1 Dish pan. Clothing and Equipment for Each Scout 1 Set of underwear, cotton flannel nightgown, and lisle or cotton stockings for each week. Do not take silk stockings. 1 Dress besides Scout uniform. 1 Pair heavy shoes. 1 Pair rubbers. 3 Handkerchiefs. 1 Apron. 1 Sweater or coat. Hairbrush and comb and tooth-brush. 3 Towels. Haversack. 2 Pillow-cases. Soap and wash rag or sponge. Bathing suit. 1 Plate. 1 Cup and saucer. "Hussif" fitted with needles, thread, scissors. Paper pad and envelopes and pencil. Knife and fork. Teaspoon and large spoon. 2 Woolen blankets. SCOUTCRAFT Useful Knots Everyone should be able to tie knots. A knowledge of knots is useful in every trade or calling, and forms an important part of a Girl Scout's training. As it may happen some day that a life may depend on a knot being properly tied you ought to know the proper way. THE BOWLINE is a loop that will not slip after the first grip. First make a loop, then pass the end up through it, round the back of the standing part, and down through the loop again. It is often used as a halter for horses. THE RUNNING BOWLINE. This is the nautical slip knot. First make the loop as in the ordinary bowline but allow a good length of end (A). Pass it round the standing part and up through the loop, and continue as in the ordinary bowline. THE REEF KNOT. It is used to join two dry ropes of the same thickness. It will not slip, and can be easily untied when wanted. Do not confuse it with the "Granny" knot. It is the _only_ knot used in First Aid work. THE CLOVE HITCH is made with two half-hitches. When fastened to a pole and pulled tight it can slip neither up nor down. Greatly used in pioneering work. THE HALF-HITCH. Pass the end round a pole, then round the standing part, then through below itself again. [Illustration: Bowline.] [Illustration: Running Bowline.] [Illustration: Half Hitch.] [Illustration: Reef Knot.] [Illustration: Clove Hitch.] [Illustration: Fisherman's Knot.] [Illustration: Round Turn and Two Half-Hitches.] [Illustration: Sheep Shank.] [Illustration: Slip Knot.] [Illustration: Sheet Bend.] [Illustration: Middleman's Knot.] [Illustration: Overhand Loop Knot.] THE FISHERMAN'S KNOT. Make this knot by tying a simple knot on rope B with the end of rope A, then tie a similar knot on rope A with the end of rope B. Pull the standing parts and the knots will remain fast. ROUND TURN AND TWO HALF-HITCHES. It is used for making fast a rope so that the strain will not jamb hitches. THE SHEET BEND. Used for uniting two dry ropes of different thicknesses. First form a loop, then pass the end of the other rope up through the loop, round the back of the end and standing part of loop, and through below itself. THE SHEEP-SHANK. A Scout should never cut rope unless absolutely necessary. To shorten a guy rope on tent or marquee, gather the rope in the form of two long loops and pass a half-hitch over each loop. It remains firm under a good strain and can be easily undone when required. MIDDLEMAN'S KNOT. Somewhat similar to the fisherman's knot but in this case only one rope is used. Can safely be used as a halter. THE SLIP KNOT. You sometimes want to release a knot quickly so this knot is used. It is simply the reef knot with one of the ends (A) pushed through one of the loops. To release, pull end A. OVERHAND LOOP KNOT. When pulling a rope you may wish to gain more purchase on it or you may wish to insert a short stick to pull with. Use the loop knot shown in our diagram. IMPORTANT. Many of the knots shown on these pages are open so that you may more easily see their working, but when in use they should always be drawn taut. The Mariner's Compass Boxing the compass consists in enumerating the points beginning with north and working around the circle as follows: North North by East North, Northeast Northeast by North Northeast Northeast by East East, Northeast East by North East East by South East, Southeast Southeast by East Southeast Southeast by South South, Southeast South by East South South by West South, Southwest Southwest by South Southwest Southwest by West West, Southwest West by South West West by North West, Northwest Northwest by West Northwest Northwest by North North, Northwest North by West North [Illustration] How to Read a Map Conventional Signs & Lettering Used in Field Sketching [Illustration: CONVENTIONAL SIGNS ETC] Conventional Signs enable you to give information on a sketch or map in a simple manner which is easily understood. In addition to the sign it is often necessary to give an additional description, _e. g._, whether a railway is double or single, the width of roads, the nature of woods (oak, pine, etc.), etc. [Illustration: CONVENTIONAL SIGNS ETC] Whatever lettering is used should be legible and not interfere with the detail of the sketch. All lettering should be horizontal, except the names of roads, railways, rivers, and canals, which should be written along them. Remember to fill in the North point on your sketch, as it is useless without it. Leave a margin of about an inch all round your sketch and state the scale that you have made your sketch, _e. g._, two inches to the mile. [Illustration: CONVENTIONAL SIGNS ETC] SIGNALLING CONTINENTAL Used on Submarine Cables, Wireless and in Foreign Countries A .- B -... C -.-. D -.. E . F ..-. G --. H .... I .. J .--- K -.- L .-.. M -- N -. O --- P .--. Q --.- R .-. S ... T - U ..- V ...- W .-- X -..- Y -.-- Z --.. 1 .---- 2 ..--- 3 ...-- 4 ....- 5 ..... 6 -.... 7 --... 8 ---.. 9 ----. 0 ----- Period ...... Comma .-.-.- Interrogation ..--.. Colon ---... Semi-colon -.-.-. Quotation Marks .-..-. The letter A is used for the word "Error" " " K " " " " " "Negative" " " L " " " " " "Preparatory" " " N " " " " " "Annulling" " " O " " " " " "Interrogatory" " " P " " " " " "Affirmative" " " R " " " " " "Acknowledgment" The Morse Code of Signals is not hard to learn but it requires much practice to "receive" even when the message is sent slowly. The old-fashioned instruments were fitted with a ribbon on which the dots and dashes were recorded, but all modern operators depend on the ear. The code is as follows: [Illustration: The American Morse Telegraph Alphabet] A .- B -... C ... D -.. E . F .-. G --. H .... I .. J -.-. K -.- L - M -- N -. O . . P ..... Q ..-. R ... S ... T - U ..- V ...- W .-- X .-.. Y .. .. Z ... . & . ... $ ... .-.. NUMERALS 1.--. 2..-.. 3...-. 4....- 5 --- 6...... 7 --.. 8 -.... 9 -..- 0 -- [1 long dash, not 2 regular dashes] [Illustration: NUMERALS] _Punctuation_ Comma, . --. -- Semi-colon, Si Colon, Ko Period, .. -- --.. Interrogation, --.. --. Quotation, Qn Paragraph, -- -- -- -- Exclamation, -- -- -- Parenthesis, Pn Brackets, Bn Dollar mark, Sx Dash, Dx Hyphen, Hx Underline, Ux _Signals_ 4. Start me. 5. Have you anything for me? 9. Train order (or important military message)--give away. 13. Do you understand? All sorts of changes may be made when the signals are committed to memory. Flags--up for a dot and side for a dash is one of the commonest and easiest for the beginner; or whistles--long and short blasts. Even the hand or a hat may be substituted; coughing, stamping, and scratching with the foot or a bit of stick. In fact endless changes may be invented for use with this Code. COMMANDS AND SIGNALS _For the use of the Girl Scouts the following list of words of command and whistle signals has been compiled._ Commands "Fall in" (in line). "Alert" (stand up smartly). "Easy" (stand at ease). "Sit easy" (sit or lie in ranks). "Dismiss" (break off). "Right" or "Left" (turn accordingly). "Patrol right or patrol left" (patrol in line wheels). "Quick march" (step off with the left foot first). "Double" (run with arms down). "Scouts' pace" (walk fifty paces and run fifty paces alternately). Whistle Signals 1. One long blast means "Silence," "Alert," "Listen for next signal." 2. A succession of long slow blasts means "Go out," "Get farther away," or "Advance," "Extend," "Scatter." 3. A succession of quick short blasts means "Rally," "Close in," "Come together," "Fall in." 4. Alternate short and long blasts mean "Alarm," "Look out," "Be ready," "Man your alarm posts." 5. Three short blasts followed by one long one from the Captain calls up the patrol leaders. Any whistle signal must be instantly obeyed at the double as fast as you can run, regardless of anything you may be doing. By previous agreement many other signals may be arranged. It all depends on the exigencies to be met or the special order or information to be conveyed. But these few important signals should be strictly adhered to in all drills and exercises of Scouts. The compiler of the present volume thinks it unwise to print the secret words so they are left for the patrol leaders and Captain to communicate verbally. Hand Signals "ADVANCE"} Swing the arm from rear to front, below the shoulder. "FORWARD"} "RETIRE" Circle the arm above the head. "HALT" Raise the arm to full extension above head. "DOUBLE" The closed fist moved up and down between your shoulder and thigh. "QUICK TIME" To change from the "Double" to the "Quick Time," raise the hand to the shoulder. "REINFORCE" Swing the arm from the rear to the front above the shoulder. "LIE DOWN" With the open hand make two or three slight movements towards the ground. "WHEEL" Extend your arm in line with your shoulder and make a circular movement in the direction required. "INCLINE" Extend your arm in line with your shoulder and make a turn with your body in the direction required. Indian Signs Burnt sticks are placed at the last camp-fire to tell the direction the Indians have gone from this spot. Two of them always make a V point and if the third is laid at the point of the [V=] it means north. Across the open end of the [=V] it means south. At one side |V it means east and V| would mean west. Now the above mark as made to indicate south would really mean southwest, if the stick which indicates direction were a little way to the west side--V¯. Northwest would be V_. [V=] North [=V] South |V East V| West V¯ Southwest V_ Northwest Scout Signs. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sign | Secret | Meaning. | Patrol or | |Troop Sign.| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [symbol]| |Road to be followed. [symbol]| | Letter hidden 3 paces from here in direction of arrow. [symbol]| | This path not to be followed. [symbol]| | "I have gone home." [symbol]| | War or trouble about. [symbol]| | Peace. [symbol]| | We camped here because one of us was sick. [symbol]| | A long way to good water, go in direction of arrow. [symbol]| | Good water not far, in this direction. [symbol]| | This is good water. [symbol]| | Signature of Scout No. 4 of the Fox Patrol, 21st Glasgow. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Shaking a blanket: I want to talk to you. Hold up a tree-branch: I want to make peace. Hold up a weapon (axe) means war: I am ready to fight. Hold up a pole horizontally, with hands on it: I have found something. Self-Defense SHOOTING All Scouts should know how to shoot. By this we do not mean that you should go all day behind some big dog and try to kill the birds he finds for you, for that is the most useless form of shooting, all things considered, that can be devised. What we mean is that Scouts should know how to load and fire a gun or other firearm so as not to be at a loss for a means of defense should an emergency arise. It is one of the best means to "be prepared." Our preference for practice of this kind is a small rifle as it is less dangerous than any form of pistol and it affords excellent training for hand and eye. Avoid, however, the very high power modern firearms--that kind that "shoot today and kill next week," as there is too much danger of reaching some one that is out of sight. The same may be said of the automatic pistol which fills too large a circle with missiles of sudden death. ARCHERY The bows and arrows of our ancestors are not to be despised as a means of training hand and eye. Archery is excellent practice for the eye, and good exercise for the muscles. It makes no noise, does not disturb game or warn the enemy. Scouts should know how to shoot with bows and arrows, and they can make them for themselves. The arrow, twenty-six inches long, must be as "straight as an arrow" and tipped with a heavy head, with wings to keep it level. Ash wood is the best. The bow should be unstrung when not in use, or it will get bent. It is usually made your own height. Old gloves should be worn. STARS How to Find the Time by the Stars Fig. 1 shows the stars around the northern pole of the heavens (Pole Star), and the Pointers of the Great Bear, which direct us to the Pole Star. [Illustration: FIG. 1.] Since all stars appear to rise in the East and set in the West (which is really due to our earth turning round under them), the Pointers revolve once around the Pole Star in the opposite direction to the hands of a clock, once in twenty-four hours, or they swing through a quarter of a circle once in six hours; it is thus a simple matter after a little practice to judge what part of the imaginary circle they will pass through in an hour or less. Assuming that all the stars rise four minutes earlier each night, and that the Pointers of the Plough are vertically above the Pole at midnight at the end of February, we may calculate the position of the Pointers for any hour of the night. The First Twenty Stars in Order of Brightness Date of rising at 9 P.M. in the East. 1. Sirius, the Dog-star Dec. 4 2. (Canopus, of the Ship) 3. (Alpha, of the Centaur) 4. Vega, of the Lyre April 1 5. Capella, of the Charioteer Aug. 21 6. Arcturus, of the Herdsman Feb. 20 7. Rigel, of Orion Nov. 4 8. Procyon, the Little Dog-star Nov. 27 9. (Achernar, of Eridanus) 10. (Beta, of the Centaur) 11. Altair, of the Eagle May 26 12. Betelgeux, of Orion's right shoulder Oct. 30 13. (Alpha, of the Southern Cross) 14. Aldebaran, of the Bull's right eye Oct. 2 15. Pollux, of the Twins Nov. 4 16. Spica, of the Virgin Mar. 1 17. Antares, of the Scorpion May 9 18. Fomalhaut, of the Southern Fish Aug. 27 19. Deneb, of the Swan Apr. 22 20. Regulus, of the Lion Jan. 1 Orion Then there is another set of stars representing a man wearing a sword and a belt, named "Orion." It is easily recognized by the three stars in line, which are the belt, and three smaller stars in another line, close by, which are the sword. Then two stars to right and left below the sword are his feet, while two more above the belt are his shoulders, and a group of three small stars between them make his head. Now the great point about Orion is that by him you can always tell which way the North or Pole Star lies, and which way the South, as you can see him whether you are in the South or the North part of the world. The Great Bear can be seen only when you are in the North, and the Southern Cross when you are in the South. [Illustration] If you draw a line by holding up your staff against the sky, from the center star of Orion's belt through the center of his head, and carry that line on through two big stars till it comes to a third, that third one is the North or Pole Star. Then if you draw a line the other way, beginning again with the center star of the belt, and passing through the center star of the sword, your line goes through another group of stars shaped like the letter L. And if you go about as far again past L, you come to the South Pole, which unfortunately is not marked by any star. Roughly Orion's sword, the three small stars, points North and South. East and West. Orion sets due west, and rises due east, so that, if you can catch him rising or setting, you know where the points of the compass are. Constellations, such as Orion, or the Bull, rise in the east, four minutes earlier each succeeding night--that is about half an hour earlier every Saturday. Read _The Song of the Fifty Stars_ by Arthur A. Carey, and try to find each star on a chart and then in the Heavens. The Song of the Fifty Stars Alpherat, Caph, and Algenib--three leading stars-- Move in front of all the host, Turning from East to West, Over the rounded dome; And, near the head of the line, the Star of the North, Polaris, turns his round and marks the hub of the wheel. From Alpherat, North and East, Andromeda shoots, Like a branch, with Mirach and Almach; while, far in the South, Achernar shines, a beacon-light, at the "End of the River." From Almach pass to Algol, of the changing face, Called by the Arabs the Demon-- The Medusa of the Greeks. But, not so fast! lest we forget the little changing star Whose place is West of Algol, farther South-- Mira, "the Wonderful," in Cetus or the Whale. Algol leads to Mirfach, the brightest star of Perseus, Who saved the captive Andromeda, daughter of Cepheus, "the Monarch," And royal Cassiopeia. Then comes, surrounded by her sisters, gentle Alcyone, The peaceful, daughter of the King who rules the tempestuous winds; And, running in pursuit of these--the happy Pleiades-- Aldebaran, "the Follower," shines from the eye of the Bull. Next comes Capella--the Mother Goat--watching her three Kids; Her yellow light the color of our Sun. Capella and Rigel move in line, and afterwards comes Nath, Who marks the horn of the butting Bull. Orion, the Hunter, on the Equator--the Giant of the Arabs-- Shines glorious North and South; Bellatrix his left shoulder; Mintaka marks his belt. After Mintaka comes Betelgeux, right shoulder of Orion; While, between them in order, though farther North, Is Zeta of Taurus, the Bull, who marks the other horn. The next is Menkalinan, the shoulder of the Charioteer; And, two degrees to the Eastward, the Circle of the Solstice passes by. While, far down in the South, Canopus gleams from the stern of Argo, the Ship. Sirius, Star of the Greater Dog, brightest of all in the heavens, Is followed by Castor, one of the Twins. While Procyon--"Dog-in-advance"--the bright "forerunner" of Sirius, Is followed by Pollux, the greater of the Twins. Next Regulus comes in the Lion's heart, Denebola, the tip of his tail; While, between them in order, Merak and Dubhe, the pointers, Point to their aim in the North. Two brilliant stars in the Southern Cross are Alpha and Beta Crucis, The former a glorious double Sun, with a third star in attendance; To see them ourselves we must travel far, But we know that the glory is great in the South, Although from us it is hidden. Next, in the hand of the Virgin, the pointed Ear of Wheat-- Spica of the Romans-- Not far from the Autumn Equinox. Now, back to the North we go, and look for Mizar and Alcor-- The Indian Squaw with the little papoose on her back, And the tip of the tail of the Greater Bear Where Benetnasch commands. Now, again to the South, where the forefeet of the Centaur Are marked by Beta and Alpha;--the former is known as Hadar--"the Ground";-- The latter sun is nearest to ours And famous as Serk-t, toward whom the ancient Egyptians Turned their temples in homage-- And, between them in order, the great and distant Arcturus Shines out warm in the North. Pulcherrima--most beautiful--must be sought by those who love her; For she is modest and shy in the presence of the Great One. Nearby is Gemma, the Bud, In the beautiful Northern Crown. Near the point where the "roof-tree" crosses the Zodiac Ring Is a warm, red star in Scorpio. This is Antares; while, in the North, Etanin marks the Dragon's head. Mu Sagitarii--closer still to the Solstice and Ecliptic-- Marks the northern part of the heavenly Archer's bow. On summer evenings, high above our heads, Vega shines with cool and brilliant light; While, to the South and East, is Altair of the Eagle. Nearby is the Northern Cross, or Cygnus, Whom we call "the Swan," With Deneb Adige marking her outspread tail. The nose of Pegasus, the soaring horse, Shines out in the star Enif, or Epsilon of Pegasus--a triple star-- While Fomalhaut gleams in the South, Guarding the Fish's Mouth. Now Scheat and Markab, hand in hand, watch for the stragglers-- Bringing up the rear of all the Fifty Stars that have passed by. The Sun Clock When you have been able to find the North Star it will be very easy to set up a sun-dial. This device is not so valuable now as standard time is universally used. If you know the difference between "sun time" and standard time, the sun-dial can be referred to with a fair amount of accuracy and many people regard it as a curiosity. Select a place where the sun shines all day and the ground is level. Set up a post or stake perpendicular and firm. At night go and "sight" a straight stick at the North Star and fasten it securely. This stick will now be parallel to the axis of the earth and its shadow will fall at the same line on any given hour no matter what season of the year it may be. At noon by the sun the shadows of the slanting stick and the upright one will coincide. This gives you the "sun noon" and the time by a standard watch or clock will tell you what correction to apply to your dial to convert its time into standard. Having once established the noon, or "no hour" mark the I, II, III, IV, V, and VI with stakes. Then calculate the correct sun time of VI A.M. by your standard watch and stake out the morning hours. Halves and even quarters can be marked between if you wish. A flower dial can be made by having your upright post a pretty tall one, say ten or even twenty feet, and planting rows of flowers like spokes of a wheel along the hour lines. It may be possible even to select such as are likely to open at or near the indicated hour. The entire semicircle of pegs will also make a pretty finish with tall ornamental foliage plants or shrubs. PRACTICE _Make a sun-dial on the ground, mark the hours with stones or sticks, and see if it shows the time every day._ AMONG THE STARS Scouts must be able to find their way by night, but unless they practise it they are very apt to lose themselves. At night distances seem much greater, and land-marks are hard to see. When patrolling in dark places, keep closer together, and in the dark or in the woods or caves keep in touch with each other by catching hold of the end of the next Scout's staff. The staff is also useful for feeling the way. WINTER EVENINGS.--_Cut out a quantity of little stars from stamp edging. Take an old umbrella, open, and stick the stars inside it, in the patterns of the chief constellations, then hold it overhead, and turn it once round for twenty-four hours, making the stars rise in the east._ _The sun and the moon appear almost the same size as a rule. When we are a little nearer the sun, in winter, he looks a trifle larger than the moon._ _To study the constellations, go out when the stars are bright, armed with a star map and a bicycle lamp to read it by, and spread a rug on the ground to lie on, or have a deck-chair, or hammock. Watch for meteors in August and November._ _Let each girl try to draw a sketch map of a given constellation, from memory._ GARDENING Now what about the gardens, for it goes without saying that Girl Scouts must have gardens. Getting right down and smelling the fresh soil is good for any one. It is mother earth's own breath. Watching the growth of our seeds is a veritable joy of joys. But what had we better plant? Why not let every one plant at least one tree? Never mind what kind of a tree. We will talk about that in a minute but decide at the outset that you will have at least one tree growing this year. Your trees will be a legacy to posterity, a gift from the Girl Scouts to their country. For in this United States of ours we have cut down too many trees and our forests are fast following the buffalo. Nay, the bare face of the land has already begun to prove less attractive to the gentle rains of heaven and offers far too open a path to the raw blasts of winter. In many sections of our country the climate is drier and colder than it was before so much of the forest was destroyed. We are just waking up to this sad fact which it will take many years to rectify. So let us plant trees. A tree is a tree anyway be it large or small. Some are useful food producers while others are of value for ornament or timber. All are good. There are no bad trees. So if you plant and raise a tree there can be no mistake. Whatever kind you select you will have done well. Fruit and nut trees will of course appeal most strongly to the young, especially to those with good healthy appetites. Many very young trees can be made to return some fruit in a comparatively short time by being budded or grafted. Scouts should learn how to bud and graft. It is not hard. Pears, plums, figs, and peaches all do well in the South as do also some apples and grapes. Peach trees though are in the main short-lived. But trees of different kinds can be grown all over the country. Apples and pears are at their best in the North and many kinds are very long-lived trees. There are apple trees known to be a hundred years old still bearing. Sugar maple does well where there are long winters, and a wood of them--locally called a "sugar bush"--is a paying piece of property. Most fruit trees are best bought from dealers or obtained from your friends. They do not come "true," as it is called, from the seed. A Baldwin apple-seed will not produce a Baldwin apple. But as all the varieties are got by selecting from seedlings we can experiment if we wish. We are already saving apple-seeds for next year, and it will certainly be grand if we can get a new kind of apple and name it the Girl Scout. We shall not make many suggestions about flowers. Any and all kinds of flowers will do in your gardens but do not neglect our own wild ones. Take the goldenrod for instance. The finest we have ever seen is grown in a city garden. Many other of our wild flowers will bear cultivating and some well repay the care necessary to "tame" them. The atamasco lily seems to be perfectly at home in the garden and so does the bloodroot. Violets of course would be favorites if our native species were not with one exception scentless. As any gardener's book will tell you all about our "tame" flowers it is not necessary to say much about them. Part IV SANITATION Girl Scouts should do everything in their power to make and keep their homes healthy as well as happy. Most of you cannot choose your own dwelling, but whether you live in a house, a cottage, a flat, in rooms, or even in one room of a house, you can do a very great deal to keep it healthy and pure. Fresh air is your great friend; it will help you to fight disease better than anything else. Open all your windows as often as you can, so that the air may get into every nook and corner. Never keep an unused room shut up. You know what a stagnant pool is like--no fresh water runs through it, it is green and slimy, and full of insects and dead things; you would not care to bathe in it. Well, still and stuffy air in a house is very much worse, only, unluckily, its dangers cannot be seen, but they are there lying in ambush for the ignorant person. Disease germs, poisonous gases, mildew, insects, dust, and dirt have it all their own way in stale, used-up air. You do not like to wash in water other people have used, but it is far worse to breathe air other people have breathed. Air does not flow in and flow out of the same opening at the same time any more than water does, so you want two openings in a room--an open window to let the good air in, and a fireplace and chimney to let the stale air out, or, where there is no fireplace, a window open both at top and bottom. The night air in large towns is purer than the day air, and both in town and country you should sleep with your window open if you want to be healthy. Draughts are not good, as they carry away the heat from your body too fast; so if your bed is too near the window, put up a shelter between it and the open window, and cover yourself more. At least one window on a staircase or landing should always be kept open, and also the larder and the closet windows. [Illustration] Tidiness _Motto_: "TIDY AS YOU GO." Half your time will be saved if little things are kept tidy. Have a place for everything, and have everything in its place. If you are not sure which is the right place for a thing, think "_Where, if I wanted it, should I go to look for it?_" That place is the right one. Get into the habit of always making hanks of any string you get, and keep them. War must be waged against rats and mice, or they will multiply and loot everything. If you have no mouse-traps, put a newspaper over a pail of water, break a hole slightly in the center in the form of a star, and place a bit of herring or cheese on the center tips of star to entice the mouse. Let the paper reach to the floor, not too upright, for the mouse to climb up. Try putting broken camphor into their holes; they dislike the smell. Fly and wasp traps are made by tying paper over a tumbler half-filled with water and beer or treacle. Break a hole in the paper, and fit in a tube of rolled paper about one inch long and one inch across. Try to keep yourself neat, and see that the house you live in is clean, sweet, and pleasant. GOLDEN HEALTH HABITS FOR GIRL SCOUTS Contributed by Dr. Thomas D. Wood. 1. Remember Fresh Air and Sunlight Are The Best Medicines. Ventilate, therefore, every room you occupy. Germs cannot live more than a few minutes in sunlight. Breathe deeply, sleep out, if you can. Work and play as much as possible out-of-doors. 2. Be Not the Slave of Unhygienic Fashions. Be proud to have efficient feet. Wear light, loose and porous, but sufficient clothing. 3. Eat Slowly. Do not eat between meals. Chew food thoroughly. Do not overeat. Remember a Girl Scout is always cheerful and helpful. She eats what is provided and is thankful for it. (She does not complain about her food.) If there are any suggestions she can make, she reserves them until mother or the (camp) cook is preparing the menu or the meal. Eat some hard, some bulky and some raw foods. 4. Drink Pure Water at Frequent Intervals. Remember that not all water that looks pure is free from disease germs. Boil the water if the Scout leader (or older person) is doubtful about it. The few minutes spent in boiling and cooling water is time well spent. Do not drink water when there is food in the mouth. 5. Be Mistress of Your Time--Be Regular in Your Habits of Life. Go to bed early enough to get sufficient sleep. Be in bed 10-1/2 to 10 hours each night. Get up in the morning promptly. Do not doze after it is time to get up. If you have not had enough sleep go to bed earlier the next night. Be sure your bowels move regularly, at least once a day. If outside engagements are so pressing as to conflict with your personal health, remember you have an important "previous engagement" with yourself for sufficient time for meals, sleep, out-of-door exercise and, if necessary, rest. 6. Avoid Infection and Do Not Spread It. Wash your hands always before eating. Use your handkerchief to cover a sneeze or cough and try to avoid coughing, sneezing or blowing the nose in front of others, or at the table. Do not use a common towel or drinking cup, or other appliance which may contain disease germs. 7. Keep Clean. The smell of flowers has been said to be their soul. Try to keep your body as fresh as possible with the sweetness of cleanliness, not perfumery. Take a sponge bath, shower or quick tub bath daily. 8. Play Hard and Fair. Be loyal to your team mates and generous to your opponents. Study hard--and in work, study or play, do your best. 9. Remember Dentist's Bills are Largely Your Own Fault. Get the habit of cleaning your teeth and rinsing your mouth after each meal. It is more than worth the habit. 10. Remember Silence Is Golden. In solitudes poets and philosophers have touched the heights of life. It is valuable for everyone to take account of stock occasionally with oneself. HEALTH Exercises and their Object The best results of exercise are to be had outdoors from the activity of vigorous games. Some of us are so placed that we cannot have daily recreation outdoors and it becomes necessary to give our bodies some type of activity to keep them normal. More than half the weight of the body is made up of muscular tissue. If this muscle is not used the health of the whole body is affected. Exercise is a necessary condition of health, just as food and sleep are. The body is very responsive to the demands made upon it. In fact, each one of us can mold her own body, very much as a sculptor fashions a statue. This is done by giving the body proper care and the right forms of activity. A weak, infirm physique is nothing less than a crime. It is the duty of each one of us, both for our own sakes, and for the benefit of future generations, to perfect our physical frame. It is a duty to be strong and beautiful in body as well as in mind and spirit. The Nose Always breathe through the nose. Fifty years ago Mr. Catlin wrote a book called _Shut your Mouth and Save your Life_, and he showed how the Red Indians for a long time had adopted that method with their children to the extent of a cruel habit of tying up their jaws at night, to ensure breathing through the nostrils. Breathing through the nose prevents germs of disease getting from the air into the throat and stomach; it also prevents a growth in the back of the throat called "adenoids," which reduce the breathing capacity of the nostrils, and also cause deafness. By keeping the mouth shut you prevent yourself from getting thirsty when you are doing hard work. The habit of breathing through the nose prevents snoring. Therefore practice keeping your mouth shut and breathing through your nose. Ears A Scout must be able to hear well. The ears are very delicate, and once damaged are apt to become incurably deaf. No sharp or hard instrument should be used in cleaning the ear. The drum of the ear is a very delicate, tightly stretched skin which is easily damaged. Very many children have had the drums of their ears permanently injured by getting a box on the ear. Eyes A Scout, of course, must have particularly good eye-sight; she must be able to see anything very quickly, and to see it a long way off. By practicing your eyes in looking at things at a great distance they will grow stronger. While you are young you should save your eyes as much as possible, or they will not be strong when you get older; therefore avoid reading by lamplight or in the dusk, and also sit with your back or side to the light when doing any work during the day; if you sit facing the light it strains your eyes. The strain of the eyes is a very common failure with growing girls, although very often they do not know it, and headaches come most frequently from the eyes being strained; frowning on the part of a girl is very generally a sign that her eyes are being strained. Reading in bed brings headaches. Teeth Bad teeth are troublesome, and are often the cause of neuralgia, indigestion, abscesses, and sleepless nights. Good teeth depend greatly on how you look after them when you are young. Attention to the first set of teeth keeps the mouth healthy for the second teeth, which begin to come when a child is seven and these will last you to the end of your life, if you keep them in order. If one tooth is allowed to decay, it will spread decay in all the others, and this arises from scraps of food remaining between the teeth and decaying there. A thorough Scout always brushes her teeth inside and outside and between all, just the last thing at night as well as other times, so that no food remains about them to decay. Scouts in camps or in the wilds of the jungle cannot always buy tooth-brushes, but should a tiger or a crocodile have borrowed yours, you can make your teeth just as bright and white as his are by means of a frayed-out-dry, clean stick. _Learn how to make camp tooth-brushes out of sticks. Slippery elm or "dragonroot" sticks for cleaning teeth can be got at chemists' shops as samples._ MEASUREMENT OF THE GIRL _It is of paramount importance to teach the young citizen to assume responsibility for her own development and health._ _Physical drill is all very well as a disciplinary means of development, but it does not give the girl any responsibility in the matter._ _It is therefore deemed preferable to tell each girl, according to her age, what ought to be her height, weight, and various measurements (such as chest, waist, arm, leg, etc.). She is then measured, and learns in which points she fails to come up to the standard. She can then be shown which exercises to practice for herself in order to develop those particular points. Encouragement must afterwards be given by periodical measurements, say every three months or so._ _Cards can be obtained from the "Girl Scouts" Office, which, besides giving the standard measurements for the various ages, give columns to be filled in periodically, showing the girl's remeasurements and progress in development. If each girl has her card it is a great incentive to her to develop herself at odd times when she has a few minutes to spare._ My Physical Development -------+--------+--------+----------------+------+---------+--------- |Date. |Weight. |Height. |Chest Expanded. |Neck. |Forearm. |Biceps. | -------+--------+--------+----------------+------+---------+--------- | | | | | | | | -------+--------+--------+----------------+------+---------+--------- | | | | | | | | -------+--------+--------+----------------+------+---------+--------- | | | | | | | | -------+--------+--------+----------------+------+---------+--------- | | | | | | | | -------+--------+--------+----------------+------+---------+--------- | | | | | | | | -------+--------+--------+----------------+------+---------+--------- Fill in this page quarterly, the progress shown should be a useful incentive. Games to Develop Strength Skipping, rowing, fencing, swimming, tennis, and handball are all valuable aids to developing strength. Use also:-- Staff exercises, to music if possible. Maze and spiral; follow-my-leader, done at a jog-trot in the open air. A musical accompaniment when possible. If done indoors, all the windows in the room must be kept open top and bottom. Sing the tune. FLAGS.--Choose sides; each player lays down a flag or a handkerchief at her own goal, and each side tries to capture the flags of the other; once she touches the opponent's flag she cannot be taken prisoner, but goes back with the flag to her side. Players can rescue a prisoner by touching her in prison. Players should keep moving as much as possible all the time, and try to evade being captured. PRACTICE throwing at a mark. Put a pebble on the top of a staff and stand at a certain line so many paces off. Morris dances (old English country dances) and the folk-songs. ENDURANCE IS USEFUL Have you not often heard of accidents on the ice? In the winter of 1895 some schoolgirls were sliding on a frozen canal, when one girl twelve years old ventured into the middle. Then there was an ominous cracking, and in a moment she was struggling in water many feet deep. Miss Alice White, a teacher, happened to witness the accident. Notwithstanding the warnings of several persons standing on the towing-path, who assured her it was most dangerous, she at once went on the ice and approached as close to the hole as she dared with safety. She then lay down at full length, so as to more equally distribute her weight, and tried to seize the struggling child. But under her weight the ice broke, and the brave girl was precipitated into the cold water. The bystanders shouted to her to forsake the child, and at least save her own life, but she did nothing of the kind. She held on to her precious burden, and literally fought her way out. Piece after piece of the ice broke off, but she at length reached the bank in a state of great exhaustion. Her hands were cut in many places by the sharp ice, but they were wounds of which any one might well have been proud. Miss White was only sixteen years old, and it was the second time she had saved a life. Laying a pole or a branch across the hole is a good plan. An Easy Way to Grow Strong It is possible for any girl, even though she may be small and weak, to make herself into a strong and healthy woman if she takes the trouble to do a few body exercises every day. They take only about ten minutes, and do not require any kind of apparatus. This should be practiced every morning, the first thing on getting up, and every evening before going to bed. A girl of ten years should weigh at least fifty pounds, the average height at that age being forty-nine inches. The value of this exercise is much increased if you think of the object of each move while you are doing it, and if you are very particular to breathe the air in through your nose. A great many people who are pale and ill are made so by living in rooms where the windows are seldom opened and the air is full of poisonous gases or germs. Open your windows, especially at the top, every day to let the foul air out. Do not exercise immediately _after_ eating; let your meal be digested. Girls who have not done these exercises before should begin them gradually with care, bit by bit, doing more every day. Brush your hair, clean your teeth, wash out your mouth and nose, drink a cup of cold water, and then go on with the following exercises. It is best to carry these out with as few clothes on as possible, either in the open air or close to an open window. The movements should be executed vigorously. First Series EXERCISE I. Stand erect, hands at side. Count 1. Bend knees deeply with trunk held vertical. Count 2. Straighten knees and return to an erect position. Count 3. Let the body fall directly forward until it reaches an angle of 45 degrees, advancing the left foot a long stride to catch the weight of the body, and bringing the closed hands to shoulders, palms forward, elbows close at side, shoulders drawn back and chest out. Count 4. Bend at the waist without moving the legs and touch the floor with both hands. Count 5. Return to the third position. Count 6. Stand erect. Repeat ten times, using first one foot, then the other. At the end of one week use this exercise fifteen times. Continue to increase the repetitions by fives each week until you can do thirty. EXERCISE II. Take five deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling, filling the lower part of the chest, and at the end of the breath expelling all the air you can. Second Series EXERCISE I. Run in place, that is go through the movements of running without gaining ground, twenty steps, rest a minute and do fifty counts. EXERCISE II. Lying on the back, hands at side, raise the body and touch the toes with both hands, ten times. EXERCISE III. Count 1. Charge sideways, raising the arms sideways to a vertical position. Count 2. Bend and twist to the left, touching the floor with both hands on the left side of the foot. Counts 3 and 4. Make the return movements. Repeat ten times in each direction. EXERCISE IV. Deep breathing eight times. Third Series EXERCISE I. Bend knees deeply, fifteen times. EXERCISE II. Lying face downward, hands at side, raise the head and chest from the floor as far as possible. EXERCISE III. Lying face downward, head resting on the folded arms, raise each leg upward and backward from the hip with straight knee, ten times. EXERCISE IV. Lying on the back, hands under head, raise both legs with straight knees to a vertical position, toes pointed upward, ten times. EXERCISE V. Charge obliquely forward left, arms in line with the body and rear leg; touch the floor and return, making it a four-count exercise. Repeat ten times in each direction. EXERCISE VI. Run in place for one minute, rest and repeat. EXERCISE VII. Take ten deep breaths. HOME LIFE Housewifery Every Girl Scout is as much a "hussif" as she is a girl. She is sure to have to "keep house" some day, and whatever house she finds herself in, it is certain that that place is the better for her being there. Too many odds and ends and draperies about a room are only dust-traps, and rugs or carpet squares, which can be taken up easily, are better than nailed down carpets. Keep all the furniture clean and bright. Fresh air, soap, and water are the good housewife's best allies. Bars of soap should be cut up in squares, and kept for six weeks before being used. This hardens it, and makes it last longer. In scrubbing boarded floors, the secret is not to deluge the floor; change the water in the pail frequently. In the work of cleaning, think out your plan beforehand, so as not to dirty what has been cleaned. Plan certain times for each kind of work, and have your regular days for doing each thing. PASTE-BOARDS AND DEAL TABLES.--Scrub hard the way of the grain. Hot water makes boards and tables yellow. Rinse in cold water, and dry well. SAUCEPANS.--New saucepans must not be used till they have first been filled with cold water and a little soda, and boiled for an hour or so, and must be well scoured. After basins or saucepans have been used fill them at once with cold water to the brim; this will prevent anything hardening on the saucepan, and will make cleaning easier. [Illustration] Needlework "A stitch in time saves nine." We cannot agree with this favorite saying, because it saves so many more than nine, besides saving time and preventing untidiness. Tailors, who are such neat workers, will say that they never pin their work first. If you are not a tailor, it is much better to place your work, before you begin, with plenty of pins. You will never get straight lines or smooth corners if you do not plan and place it all first, just as it has got to be, and tack it there. Have you noticed that thread is very fond of tying itself into a bow; but this can be prevented by threading the cotton into the needle before you cut it off the reel, making your knot at the end you cut. In rough measures, one inch is equivalent to the distance across a twenty-five-cent piece, and a yard is from nose to thumb, as far as you can reach. Needlework is good for all of us; it rests and calms the mind. You can think peacefully over all the worries of Europe whilst you are stitching. Sewing generally solves all the toughest problems, chiefly other peoples'. Pillow lace needs a little more attention, but is a lovely art which girls can easily master. The writer was taught to make the flowers of Honiton lace by a little Irish girl, and the variations you can invent are endless. You would find a good sale for insertion lace of the Torchon patterns. Make your own pillow, and buy some cheap bobbins to begin learning with, and do not try fine work at first. Learn to spin wool and thread; a spinster can earn money in this way. The Girl Scouts' Patch We don't know whether you ever did such a thing as burn a hole in your dress, but we have, and if it is in the front, oh, dear! what will mother say. Now, there is a very good way that Girl Scouts have of making it all right and serviceable; they put in a piece and darn it in all round. If possible, get a piece of the same stuff, then it will not fade a different tint, and will wear the same as the rest. You may undo the hem and cut out a bit, or perhaps you may have some scraps left over from cutting out your dress. The piece must be cut three or four inches larger than the hole, and frayed out on all four sides. Trim the hole with your scissors neatly all round quite square with the thread. Then lay your piece over the hole--of course on the back or "wrong side"--and tack it there with cotton. Now take a darning needle, and thread each thread in turn, and darn each one into the stuff. If the ends of stuff are very short, it is best to run your needle in and out where you are going to darn, and then, before pulling it through, thread it with the wool. This patching is excellent for table-linen. We once had an aunt who was a thorough old Scout, and was rather proud of her mending. She always said that she didn't mind what colored cotton you gave her to sew with, because her stitches hardly ever showed, they were so small, and also she put them inside the stuff. If she was putting on a patch to blue stuff, she could do it with red cotton, and you would never have noticed it on the right side; her stitches were all under the edge. Or else she sewed it at the back, on the wrong side, so that it looked perfectly neat. If you are not able to match the wool for a darn, it is a good plan to use the ravelings of the stuff itself. Sometimes, away in the country, you can't go to a shop and you have nothing like the piece you want to mend. A Scout would turn it inside out and undo a little of the hem, and ravel out the edge. Suppose you were to cut a hole in the front of your blue serge skirt; if you darn it with the ravelings of the turnings of the seam or the hem, that will be exactly the same color and the same thickness as your dress. No wool you could buy would match as well. Or if you want to mend a jersey or knitted gloves, you never could buy such a good match--the same sized wool and the tints. [Illustration] Damask table-cloths should be darned to match the pattern, following the flowers of the design, and large holes may be mended like the "Scouts' Patch" just described. To sew on buttons properly, leave them loose enough for the iron to push. On washing articles have your threads long enough to make a little stalk to the button, which is wound round before finishing. Your needle should be sloped out to all sides, so as to take up fresh stuff farther out than the holes in the button. Scouts may make many useful presents in their spare time, such as cretonne covered blotters or frames, mittens, warm felt slippers (for which woolly soles can be bought), pen-wipers, pin-cushions, and needle-books. They could also make articles for their hospitals, such as night-clothing, soft caps, handkerchiefs, pillow-cases, and dusters. HOME COOKING There is a legend in Turkey that when a rich man is engaged to marry a lady he can break it off if she is not able to cook him a dish of dates in a different way every day for a whole month. A friend of ours did somewhat the same in trying a new cook; he always tested them with nothing but cutlets for a fortnight. The real test of a good cook is to see how little food she wastes. She uses up all the scraps, and old bits of bread are baked for making puddings and for frying crumbs; she sees that nothing goes bad, and she also buys cleverly. Those who do not understand cookery waste money. Perfect cleanliness and neatness should be insisted on, or your food will be bad and unwholesome. Eggs Is an egg lighter or heavier when cooked? An experienced cook is experienced in eggs. There are "new laid" eggs which are fresh and "fresh" eggs which are not; there are "cooking" eggs which are liable to squeak. Eggs are safe in their shells, and think you don't know whether they are fresh or not, or whether they are raw. Any egg can be thrown out of a first-floor window on to the lawn without the shell breaking; it falls like a cat, right end upwards, and this is not a boiled egg, either! You can tell that because it will not spin on the table, so it must have been a raw egg. A cooked egg would spin. To tell a stale egg, you will see it is more transparent at the _thick_ end when held up to the light. Fresh eggs are more transparent in the _middle_. Very bad eggs will _float_ in a pan of water. Poached Eggs Break each egg separately into a cup. When your water is boiling fast, drop in an egg sharply. Use a large deep pan, with salt and vinegar in the water. Lift the egg very carefully in a ladle before it is set too hard. Place the eggs all round a soup plate, pour over them a nice sauce made with flour and butter, a little milk, and some grated cheese and salt. STOCK POT.--Keep a pot going all day, into which you can put any broken-up bones or scraps left over, to make nourishing broth. Clean turnips, carrots, and onions improve it. Before using let it get cold, so as to skim off the fat. HOME HEALTH Contributed by Dr. Thomas D. Wood. ~1. Dust~ (carries germs and bacteria)-- a. Must be kept out of the house by 1. Being careful not to bring it in on shoes or clothing. 2. By really removing the dust when cleaning, not just brushing it from place to place with dry brushes and dust cloths. b. Tools needed-- 1. Vacuum cleaner (if possible). 2. Brooms and brushes of different kinds. 3. Mops. 4. Dust cloths of cotton, outing flannel and wool. 5. Soft paper. c. Methods of cleaning-- 1. Cleansing and putting away all small movable articles first. 2. Wiping walls, pictures, floor, furniture, woodwork, etc., using damp cloths and brushes, if possible, so that no dust can fly, and gathering all dust on a dustpan that has a damp paper on it to collect dust. 3. Airing and sunning each room while cleaning. 4. Wiping window shades at least once a week. 5. Cleaning hangings often and laundering table and cushion covers. 6. Keeping every corner, drawer, and closet aired, cleansed, sunned and in order at all times to prevent accumulation of dust, germs and household pests. 7. Keeping all bathroom furnishings spotless and sweet, always drying after cleansing. 8. Scalding all cleaning tools and drying in sunshine, if possible, before putting away. ~2. Care of the Bedroom--~ Hygiene of the Bedroom-- 1. Substances that tend to make the bedroom unhealthy are-- a. Excretions from lungs, skin, kidneys. b. Street dust that has settled on clothing in day. 2. Relation of personal habits to healthfulness of the bedroom-- a. Leave outside wraps outside bedroom, if at all possible, at least until they have been well dusted. b. Never put into the closet clothing that has been next to the skin during the day. Such articles should be aired by an open window during the night. c. A bath each day at some time and a thorough cleansing of face, hands and feet before going to bed will prevent much dust and body excretions from accumulating on bed clothing. 3. Preparation for the Night-- a. Remove counterpane and fold carefully. b. Protect blanket by covering with a sheet or other light covering. c. Open windows from top and bottom. d. Hang used clothing to air. 4. Care of Room on Rising-- a. Remove bed clothing and hang by open window in the sun. b. Air night clothing before hanging away. c. If a washstand is used, empty all bowls and jars, soap dishes, etc., wash and dry them before leaving the room for breakfast. d. When thoroughly aired, make the bed and put the room in order. 5. Making the Bed Properly-- a. Mattress must have been turned. There should be a covering for the mattress under the first sheet. b. Put on the under sheet, tucking it securely under mattress at top, bottom and sides. c. Put on upper sheet and blankets, tucking in at bottom only. d. Turn upper sheet down over blankets. e. Cover with counterpane and place on well-beaten pillows. 6. Weekly Cleaning-- a. Mattress, rugs, and unwashable hangings should be removed to some place in outdoor air and sunshine, beaten and dusted. b. Closets must be cleaned and dusted first, then used to store all small articles from room after they have been thoroughly cleaned. c. Clean walls, pictures, woodwork, floors, windows and shades. d. Put room in order. e. Such care of the rooms of a house make regular "housecleaning" spells unnecessary. ~3. Kitchen Sanitation--~ a. Do not wash-- 1. Iron (range). 2. Brass and copper. 3. Tin. 4. Zinc. 5. Aluminum, nickel, silver. To clean metals of grease, use kerosene, gasoline, benzine, naphtha, chloroform, soap suds. b. Care of Sink-- 1. Pour dishwater through a sieve. 2. Greasy water must be changed into a soap or dissolved before being poured down to drain. 3. Flush sink drain three times a week with boiling sal soda solution, one pint sal soda to three gallons of water. Use at least two quarts. c. Kitchen needs same treatment for general cleanliness, removal of dust, etc., as other rooms and walls. Woodwork--floor should be often washed thoroughly in hot soapsuds, rinsed and dried to be sure no germs develop where food is being prepared. d. Care of Ice Chest-- 1. Should be emptied and thoroughly washed and dried at least twice a week to make it a wholesome place for food. ~4. Cellar--~ 1. Must be kept as free of dust and rubbish as the kitchen. 2. No decaying vegetables or fruit must be found in it. ~5. Door-Yard and Out-Building--~ 1. Grass and growing things, especially if sprayed with water daily, will help keep dust out of houses. 2. Rubbish of any kind should be burned, for it is in such places that flies and mosquitoes breed. 3. Grass should be kept cut and lawns raked to keep mosquitoes from breeding. 4. No manure from domestic animals should be allowed to be exposed on the premises, for in such material the typhoid fly lays its eggs. 5. Barns and out-houses should be screened. ~6. To Clean Fruits and Vegetables--~ 1. Garden soil is the home of a multitude of small forms of life, many quite harmless, but some organisms causing disease. For instance, germs of tetanus are found in dust and soil. 2. Top-dressing or fertilizer used to enrich the soil may contain such disease germs. 3. If fruits or vegetables come from the market instead of the garden they are quite as likely to have dust and bacteria clinging to them. 4. It is necessary, therefore, to wash all vegetables and fruits thoroughly before using. ~7. How to Wash Fruit and Vegetables~-- 1. Put berries and small fruits in a colander, a few at a time, and dip lightly down and up in a basin of water, being careful not to crush the fruit. 2. Wash strawberries with hulls on. 3. Firm fruits, as grapes, cherries, etc., can be washed by standing the colander under the cold water faucet for some time. 4. Lettuce is best washed under the cold water faucet and celery needs scrubbing with a brush. 5. Apples from exposed fruit stands should be soaked for some time and carefully dried. ~8. Fresh Foods Are Best--~ 1. Celery, cabbage, apples, pumpkins, beets, squash, white and sweet potatoes, etc., can be kept fresh for out of season use if carefully cleansed and stored away in a dry, cool, dark place. ~9. Methods of Preserving Foods--~ 1. Salting. 2. Pickling. 3. Refrigeration. 4. Canning. 5. Preserving. 6. Drying or evaporation. ~10. Method of Preserving Eggs--~ 1. Packing in coarse salt. 2. Cover with water-glass in large stone jars, set in cool place. ~11. Care of Milk--~ 1. Use certified milk or inspected milk. 2. Wash bottle top before removing cover. 3. Pour milk in pans that have been scalded and drained dry in the sun or, in damp weather, by the stove. 4. As soon as cool enough put in refrigerator or in coolest place possible, as milk spoils very quickly unless kept cold. ~12. Care of Meat--~ 1. Wash thoroughly as soon as it arrives. 2. Place on clean pan of aluminum, porcelain or some such ware. 3. Place in refrigerator until ready to cook. ~13. General Rules For Care of Food--~ 1. Keep food clean--(personal cleanliness, washing food). 2. Keep food dry. 3. Keep food cool. 4. Care for food left from each meal. If carefully put away it can be used and not wasted. Inspected Milk-- 1. Comes from sanitary farms where cows, cases and bottles are reasonably clean; the rules are much less strict than for certified milk. 2. Cannot by law contain more than 500,000 germs in each teaspoonful, while certified milk contains not more than 50,000 germs. Pasteurized Milk-- 1. Method recommended by Department of Health of Chicago. In a small tin pail place a saucer. On the saucer stand the bottle of milk (leaving the cap on the bottle). Now put sufficient hot water (not so hot as to break the bottle) into the pail to fill same to within three or four inches of the top of the bottle, and then stand the pail and its contents on the top of the stove. The instant the water begins to boil remove the bottle of milk from the pail and cool it as rapidly as possible. Keep the bottle of milk in the ice box and keep the cap on the bottle when not in use. When you remove the cap do so with a clean prong, and be careful that the milk side of the cap does not come in contact with anything dirty. None but inspected or certified milk should be used. Milk should be kept covered with clean cheese cloth to prevent dust getting in. Water-- 1. Water will carry germs of typhoid fever, cholera, etc. 2. Boiling and cooling all water that might be suspected. Unprotected and Exposed Food-- a. Prevention-- 1. Be sure of a pure water supply (inspection of Board of Health). 2. Cleanse all foods properly before eating. House Fly-- a. Why it is a Disease Carrier-- 1. Breeds in filth where disease germs are found. 2. Construction of feet, legs, body, wings, etc., favorable for catching and holding great numbers of filth and disease germs. b. How to Fight the Fly-- 1. Catch all flies that get in the house. 2. Keep food covered. 3. Trap flies out of doors. 4. Screen all windows of houses, barns or out-buildings. Mosquito-- 1. Carries germs of malaria and yellow fever. 2. Turn over every pail or tub that may hold water. 3. Pick up old tin cans and bottles and put them where rain cannot fill them. 4. Screen rain barrels and cisterns so mosquitoes cannot get to the water and lay eggs. 5. Screen the wash water if it is left standing over night. 6. Change water every day in drinking pans for birds and animals. Rats-- Prevention-- Get rid of them by trapping and killing. HINTS TO HOUSEKEEPERS HOW TO CLEAN WIRE WINDOW SCREENS. _Rub down with Kerosene oil outside and inside._ THREE PRIMARY COLORS _are, Red, Blue and Yellow._ POLISHING FLOORS _One quart of turpentine to one quarter (1/4) pound of beeswax. Warm, taking care not to let any fire reach the turpentine. Rub in the floor with flannel and polish with hard brush. A little powdered burnt umber mixed in gives a nice brown stain._ TO PUT AWAY FLANNELS _First thoroughly air and beat them, then wrap up with cedar chips, refuse tobacco, or camphor, and wrap in newspapers, being careful to close every outlet to keep out moths._ Babcock Test _The Babcock test is a test for determining the butter fat in milk._ _Bottles are devised which are known as Babcock milk bottles, and are registered to show the per cent. of fat in milk. A certain amount of milk is mixed with a certain amount of Commercial Sulphuric acid of a specific gravity 1.83 which is added by degrees and thoroughly shaken up with the milk. Enough distilled water is added to fill the bottle. The mixture is then centrifuged in a Babcock Centrifuge, and the centrifuged fat read in per cent. on the neck of the bottle._ _The Official Travelers' Babcock Test can be purchased from the Creamery Package Manufactory Co., Chicago Ill., and costs between $5.00 and $6.00._ _All utensils used in dairy work should be sterilized by steaming or boiling for five minutes._ How to Cure Hams Rub one tablespoonful of Saltpetre into the face of each ham; let it remain one day. Literally cover the ham with salt and pack it in a closed box. Leave it in box as many days as there are pounds to the ham. Take it out, wash in warm water; cover the face of the ham with black pepper, and smoke it ten days with green hickory or red-oak chips. Care of Children _Mrs. Benson writes: "There is no way in which a girl can help her country better than by fitting herself to undertake the care of children. She should learn all she can about them, and take every opportunity of helping to look after these small Girl Scouts and Boy Scouts of the future."_ An infant cannot tell you its wants, but a Scout with a knowledge of the needs of children, what to feed them on, and the rules for good health, may save many a baby, for she never knows how soon the precious gift of some child's life may be placed in her hands. Baby does not know that fire will burn, or that water will drown one, so you need to guard him. Baby requires the proper food to build up a healthy body. He prefers milk for the first months of his life, and even up till three years old he takes mostly milk; and as a baby cannot digest flour, bread, corn-flour, and such things are so much poison to him. They may injure a little baby's health for life. As has been said to older children, let him keep quiet after eating. Even up to three years old, Baby's food must be chiefly milk--biscuits, puddings, and fruit being gradually added. He is very particular about his milk being fresh and good. Baby is extremely punctual. He feels it keenly if you do not feed him at the fixed hour, and will very likely let you know it, and woe betide you if he finds out that you have not properly scalded out his bottle before and after each meal. [Illustration] When his digestion is not right, his appetite will not be so good. Digestion means that the food you eat is turned into muscle and brain and bone. We eat onions to make bone, and oats to make brain, but Baby must not be allowed such food till he is older. What is _indigestion?_ It means not only uncomfortable pains in the middle of the night, but also that you have not used up the food you ate, and that food is going bad inside you, and making bad blood. Eat only the foods that you know you can digest comfortably. Do not give Baby too much at a time, or he will not be able to digest it, and keep him to plain food. Air Sun and air are life-giving. Put a pale withering plant or human being into the sun, and each will recover health. Give a baby plenty of fresh air, out of doors if you can, but avoid draughty places. Air the rooms well. You know, too, that the air inside the bed-clothes is impure, so do not let Baby sleep with his head under the sheet; tuck it in under his chin. You remember what air did in curing illness in the case of the expressman's children. He had two boys and three little girls all beginning to have consumption, and constantly requiring a doctor at great expense. He got the happy idea of putting them all into his cart when he started out very early on his work, and he drove them about every morning till school time. Every one of them soon got well, and became strong and healthy. Bath No one can be healthy unless she is extremely clean. Baby will want his bath daily, with soap and warmish water. He likes to kick the water and splash, as long as you support his head. Before starting on this swimming expedition, you should have all his clothes, warm, by you, and all that you will want must be within reach, and he expects a warm flannel on your knees to lie on. You must carefully dry all the creases in his fat body for him, with a soft towel. Illnesses What will you do when you suddenly find that baby is ill. Call in the doctor? Yes--that is, if there is one. But when there is no doctor! You will at once think of all the First Aid you have learnt, and what you know of nursing. Drugs are bad things. You may ruin a child by giving it soothing drugs and advertised medicines. They sometimes produce constipation. Never neglect the bowels if they become stopped, or you may bring on inflammation. Children's illnesses often are brought on by damp floors; you can trace them to the evening that the boards were washed. A flood of water could not dry without damping the room and the children. Bowed legs come from walking too soon. It does baby good to lie down and kick about, for crawling and climbing exercise his muscles. The best remedy, if you find a child suffering from convulsions, is to place it in a warm bath, as hot as your bare elbow can endure. Childhood is the time to form the body; it cannot be altered when you are grown up. Clothing Children's clothes should be warm but light, and the feet and legs should be kept warm and dry. To put on their stockings, turn the toe in a little way, and poke the toes into the end, then pull over a little at a time, instead of putting the foot in at the knee of the stocking. Put the left stocking on the right foot next day, so as to change them every day. Flannelette is made of cotton, so it is not warm like wool, and it catches fire easily, as cotton-wool does. Rubber is most unhealthful, and causes paralysis. Don't sit on rubber or on oilcloth unless covered, and never put rubber next to the skin. Thermometers [Illustration] To convert a given number of degrees Fahrenheit into Centigrade, deduct 32, multiply by 5, and divide by 9. To convert into Réaumur, deduct 32, multiply by 4, and divide by 9. To convert degrees Centigrade into Fahrenheit, multiply by 9, divide by 5, and add 32. To convert Réaumur into Fahrenheit, multiply by 9, divide by 4, and add 32. The diagram shows corresponding degrees. Beat of Pulse per minute Pulse beat for normal person: Infant before age of one year, 130 to 115 beats per minute. Infant up to two years of age, 115 to 130 beats per minute. Adult, 70 to 80 beats per minute. Adult in old age, 70 to 60 in normal health. Part V FIRST AID The National Red Cross Society award certificates in First Aid to girls over sixteen years old only, but any Girl Scout can win the Girl Scout Ambulance badge by passing an examination on the first three chapters of the Woman's Edition of the Red Cross Abridged Text-Book on First Aid. This training of the Girl Scouts awakens taste for hospital work. The scope of this book is insufficient for a complete course of instruction in hospital work, so it is best for the leaders to have lectures, lessons, and demonstrations. There is danger in a "little knowledge" of such an important subject. So we shall only say that the one important Scout precept of obeying orders is in a hospital of paramount importance. Disobedience is certainly a _crime_. Nosebleed Slight nosebleed does not require treatment; no harm results from it. When severe nosebleed occurs, loosen the collar (do not blow the nose), apply cold to the back of the neck by means of a key or a cloth wrung out in cold water; a roll of paper under the upper lip between it and the gum will help; when bleeding still continues shove a cotton or a gauze plug into the nostrils leaving it there until the bleeding stops. Eyes Dust, flies, or cinder in the eye. Get the person's head well back, seize the upper eyelash and pull the upper lid well forward over the lower, press it against the latter as it slips back into place, and if the fly is beneath the upper lid it will be left on the lower lid. If this fails, place a match on the upper eyelid, catch the eyelashes and turn the lid over the match, and if you can see the cause of the trouble remove it with the corner of a handkerchief or use a camel's-hair brush. A drop of castor-oil in the eye soothes it afterwards. For lime in the eye use a weak solution of vinegar and water. FIRST AID TO INJURED Fire constitutes a danger, especially if there is a panic where the fire starts. Never throw away a lighted match, it may fall on inflammable material and start fire. Reading in bed is dangerous, as if you go to sleep the bed-clothes may catch fire. If you must dry your clothes by a fire watch them carefully. Cut away all dry grass around a fire in camp. Never carry a light into a room that smells strongly of escaped gas; never handle gunpowder with matches in your pocket. How to Put out Fire If your clothing catches fire don't run for help, that will fan the flames; lie down, roll up in an overcoat or rug. If nothing can be found to roll about you, roll over slowly beating out the flames with your hands. If another person is on fire throw him on the ground and smother the fire with a rug away from the face. What to Do in Case of Fire Show coolness and presence of mind; throw water (a few bucketfuls will often put out the fire), or blankets, woolen clothing, sand, ashes, dirt, or even flour on fire. If you discover a fire sound the alarm on the street fire-alarm post, or telephone to the Fire Department. The doors of a house or a room that is on fire should be closed to prevent draughts spreading the flames. While searching a burning house tie a wet handkerchief over the nose and mouth. Remember that within six inches of the floor there is no smoke; when you have difficulty in breathing, crawl along the floor with the head low, dragging any one you have rescued behind you. Tie the insensible person's hands together and put them over your head. You can then crawl along the floor dragging the rescued person with you. Never jump from the window unless the flames are so close that it is your only means of escape. If outside a burning building put mattresses and bedding piled high to break the jumper's fall and get a strong rug to hold, to catch the jumper, and let many people hold the rug. In country districts organize a bucket brigade; two lines of girls from water to fire--pass buckets, jugs, tumblers, or anything that will hold water from girl to girl and throw water on the fire, passing buckets back by another line of girls. Rescue from Drowning There are four practical methods of bringing a drowning person to land. [Illustration: Fig. 1] 1. If quiet, turn him on his back, and grip him by the head so that the palms of the hands cover the ears, and swim on the back. Keep his face above water (Fig. 1). [Illustration: Fig. 2] 2. In case of struggling, turn him on his back. Then grip his arms just above the elbows and raise them until they are at right angles to his body, and swim on the back (Fig. 2). [Illustration: Fig. 3] 3. If the arms are difficult to grasp, push your arms under those of the subject, bend them upwards, and place your hands, with the fingers separated, flat on his chest, the thumbs resting on his shoulder joints. Swim on the back (Fig. 3). [Illustration: Fig. 4] 4. In rescuing a swimmer with cramp or exhausted, or a drowning person who is obedient and remains quiet, the person assisted must place his hands on the rescuer's shoulders close to the neck at arm's length, turn on his back, and lie perfectly still with the head well back. Here the rescuer is uppermost; and, having his arms and legs free, swims with the breast stroke. This is the easiest method, and enables the rescuer to carry the person a longer distance without much exertion (Fig. 4). Release A drowning person will sometimes grip his would-be rescuer in such a manner as to render it impossible to tow him to land. The three following methods are recommended for releasing oneself when clutched by a drowning person. [Illustration: Fig. 5] [Illustration: Fig. 6] 1. When the rescuer is grasped by the wrists: Extend the arms straightforward, bring them down until they are in a line with the hips, and then jerk the wrists against the thumbs of the subject. This will break the hold (Figs. 5 and 6). [Illustration: Fig. 7] 2. When the rescuer is clasped round the neck: Take a deep breath and lean well over the drowning person. At the same time, place the left hand in the small of his back. Then pinch the nostrils close between the fingers of the right, while resting the palm on his chin, and push away with all possible force (Fig. 7). [Illustration: Fig. 8] 3. When the rescuer is clasped round the body: Take a deep breath and lean well over as before. Place the left hand on the subject's right shoulder and the right palm on his chin. At the same time bring the right knee against the lower part of his chest. Then by means of a strong and sudden push, stretch your arms and leap straight out, throwing the whole weight of your body backwards (Fig. 8). [Illustration] Artificial Respiration [Illustration: Fig. 9] When a person is brought to land in an apparently drowned condition lose no time in attempting restoration. Delay may prove fatal. Act at once and work with caution, continuous energy, and perseverance. Life has, in many cases, been restored after long hours of unceasing work. In all cases send for a doctor as soon as possible. Meanwhile proceed at once to clear the water out of the patient's lungs. The following method is the simplest and is called the Schäfer system, after the inventor. Incline the patient face downwards and the head downwards, so that the water may run out of his mouth, and pull his tongue forward. After running the water out of the patient, place him on his side with his body slightly hanging down, and keep the tongue hanging out. If he is breathing let him rest; if he is not breathing, you must at once endeavor to restore breathing artificially. Here are Professor Schäfer's own instructions: [Illustration: Fig. 10] 1. Lay the patient face downwards with arms extended and the face turned to the side. 2. Don't put a cushion or any support under the chest. Kneel or squat alongside or astride of the patient facing towards his head. 3. Place your hands on the small of the patient's back, one on each side, with thumbs parallel and nearly touching. 4. Bend forward with the arms straight, so as to allow the weight of your body to fall on your wrists, and then make a firm, steady downward pressure on the loins of the patient, while you count slowly, "one--two--three." 5. Then swing your body backward so as to relieve the pressure and without removing your hands, while you count slowly, "one--two." [Illustration: Fig. 11] Continue this backward and forward movement, alternately relieving and pressing the patient's stomach against the ground in order to drive the air out of his chest and mouth, and allowing it to suck itself in again, until gradually the patient begins to do it for himself. The proper pace for the movement should be about twelve pressures to the minute. As soon as the patient is breathing you can leave off the pressure; but watch him, and if he fails you must start again till he can breathe for himself. Then let him lie in a natural position and set to work to get him warm by putting hot flannels or bottles of hot water between his thighs, and under the arms and against the soles of his feet. Wet clothing should be taken off and hot blankets rolled round him. The patient should be disturbed as little as possible and encouraged to sleep while carefully watched for at least an hour afterwards. Ice Rescue To rescue a person who has broken through the ice, you should first tie a rope around your own body and have the other end tied or held in shore. Then get a long board or a ladder, or the limb of a tree, crawl out on this and push it out so that the person in the water may reach it. If nothing can be found on which to support your weight don't attempt to walk to the person to be rescued, but lie flat on your face and crawl out to him, thus so much less weight bears on the ice at one point than walking. Remember, if you break through the ice yourself, that if you try to crawl on the broken ice it will break again with you; better support yourself on edge of ice and await rescue. Gas and Sewer Gas Never go to sleep in a room where the gas is burning low. As gas may escape into the room, very big fires burning in sleeping rooms are dangerous, especially in charcoal stoves. In underground sewers and wells dangerous gases are found; if a lighted candle will not burn in such a place it is certain the air will be dangerous for any one entering it. In rescuing a person from a place filled with gas, take a few deep breaths before entering, carry him quickly out without breathing yourself. Gas will not be found near the floor of a building, so you may be able to crawl out where it would be dangerous to walk. Treating and Bandaging the Injured A fracture is the same thing as a broken bone. When the bone pierces through the skin it is called a compound fracture. When it does _not_, a simple fracture. If you have to deal with a broken leg or arm, and can't get a doctor at once, make the patient lie down. Place the leg in the same position as sound one, and hold it in splints made of anything that is stiff and rigid like a _flat_ board (that is better than a round pole) or a limb broken from a tree. Shingles make excellent splints. In applying splints, they should extend beyond the next joint above and the next joint below the broken point. Otherwise the movement of the joint will cause the broken part to move. With a broken thigh, the splint should be very long, extending from armpit to below the feet; a short splint just below the knee will do for the inner splint. Splints may be tied on with handkerchiefs; tie firmly, but not so tight as to cause severe pain. In a fractured thigh it is well to bind the broken leg to the sound one by two or three pieces of cloth around both. The clothing around the leg makes a padding for the splints unless it is thin summer clothing, in which case straw and leaves should be put between the splint and the leg or arm. Fractures of the leg and arm are treated the same way, with splints on inner and outer sides of broken bone. A sling will be required with fractures of the arm; this may be made with triangular bandage or triangular neck handkerchief or piece torn from your skirt or petticoat. Red Cross outfits are very convenient for injuries. Compound Fracture If the sharp edges of the broken bone pierce through the skin, which often happens if splints are not well applied and the person moves, the broken bone again pierces the skin. If a wound is made by the broken bone, then the wound must be treated first. Dressing Wounds All wounds, unless protected from germs, are liable to become infected by matter or pus. Blood-poisoning or even death may result. To prevent infection of wound, a sterilized dressing should be applied; this is a surgical dressing which has been treated so that it is free from germs and can be got at any druggist's or can be had in First Aid outfits. Don't handle a wound with your hands, because even though your hands appear perfectly clean, they are not so; neither is water free from germs, so a wound should never be washed. If you have no surgical dressing, boil a folded towel fifteen minutes; don't touch the inner surface. Apply inner surface of the towel or a clean unused handkerchief to the wound. How to Stop Bleeding Keep a person quiet after severe bleeding from a wound as the bleeding may recommence, and give no stimulants unless patient is very weak. There are two kinds of blood--that which flows from arteries and the blood which flows from veins; the latter is of a dark color and flows in a steady stream and goes back to the heart. A pad firmly tied on such a wound usually stops the bleeding. Don't be afraid of leaving a wound exposed to air. When wounds bleed use Red Cross outfit as directed on slip contained in outfit. If an artery is cut a person may bleed to death in a few minutes. Girls should know that the blood from a cut artery is bright red and flows in spirts and jets. There are arteries in the throat. The artery in the upper arm is about in a line with the inner seam of the sleeve of your coat. The artery in the leg runs down from the center line from the point of the hip in the middle of the crotch in a line with the inseam of trousers. Pressure should be applied by putting your fingers three inches above the crotch and holding it pressed against the bone. You can feel the artery beating under your fingers, but don't put your finger in the wound as it may infect the latter. While you hold the artery some one else should make a tourniquet easily improvised. How to Make a Tourniquet Tie a handkerchief loosely around the limb and place a cork or a smooth stone, just above your fingers on the artery. When this is placed, put a stick about a foot long under the handkerchief at the outer side of the limb and twist the stick so that the handkerchief gets tight enough to keep the stone or cork pressing on the artery just as your fingers did at first. Tie the stick in position so it will not slip. Remember that cutting off the circulation for too long is dangerous; don't leave the tourniquet more than an hour. Loosen it and be ready to tighten it quickly if the bleeding recommences. Another method to stay bleeding from an artery when the injury is below the knee or elbow is to place a pad in the bend and tie the arm or leg bent with the pad tight in the angle of the joint. If an artery is cut at the throat, hold tightly together the wound to stop the bleeding or the person may die instantly from loss of blood. The best stimulant in cases where the patient is very weak is aromatic spirits of ammonia. One teaspoonful in a half-glass of water. Ivy Poisoning Avoid poison oak or ivy. If poisoned use carbolized vaseline or baking-soda and water made into a thick paste. Apply alcohol first. To Ease Itching of Midge-Bites For midge and sand-fly bites use listerine and Eucalyptus--equal quantities--liquid carbonic soap--apply one drop on bite--or preparation sold by druggist. Frost-Bite To prevent frost-bite, rub the body when exposed to cold with too little clothing on, because rubbing brings blood to the surface. When the part that was cold suddenly has no feeling, then to restore warmth rub it first with snow or cold water, then gradually with warm water; if hot water is applied at first it may cause mortification in the frozen part. Runaway Horses Don't try to check a run-away horse by standing in front and waving your arms. The horse only dodges you and runs faster. Electric Shock Artificial Respiration should always be promptly given in cases of electric shock. The rescuer must not touch the body of a person touching a live wire or a third rail unless his own body is thoroughly insulated. He must act quickly. He should, if possible, insulate himself by covering his hands with a rubber coat, rubber sheeting or even several thicknesses of dry cloth. Silk is a good non-conductor. In addition he should complete his insulation by standing on a dry board, or a thick piece of dry paper or on a dry coat. Rubber gloves or boots are safer, but they cannot usually be immediately available. If a live wire is under a patient and the ground is dry it will be perfectly safe to stand upon it and pull him off with the bare hands. But they should touch only his clothing and this must not be wet. A live wire on a patient may with safety be flipped off with a dry board or stick. A live wire may be safely cut by an axe or hatchet with a dry wooden handle and the electric current may be short circuited by dropping a crowbar or a poker on the wire. They should be dropped on the side from which the current is coming and not on the further side as the latter will not short circuit the current before it has passed through the patient's body. Drop the metal bar, do not place it on the wire or you will then be made a part of the short circuit and receive the current of electricity through your body. From American Red Cross Text Book on Elementary Hygiene and Home Care of the Sick. Part VI PATRIOTISM History of the Flag On July 4, 1776, the Declaration of Independence was signed. By this the united colonies dissolved all the ties that bound them to England and became an independent nation, the United States. It was immediately necessary to adopt a new flag, as the new nation would not use the union jack. Congress appointed a committee, consisting of George Washington, Robert Morris, and Colonel Ross, to design a flag. They got Mrs. Betsey Ross, who kept an upholstery shop at 239 Arch Street, Philadelphia, to help plan and to make the new flag. They kept the thirteen stripes of the colonies' flag, and replaced the union jack by a blue field bearing thirteen stars, arranged in a circle. On June 14, 1777, Congress passed the resolution adopting this flag. Resolved: That the flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen stripes, alternate red and white: that the Union be thirteen stars, white on a blue field, representing a new constellation. George Washington said: "We take the star from Heaven, the red from our mother country, separating it by white stripes, thus showing that we have separated from her, and the white stripes shall go down to posterity representing liberty." This new flag was first carried into battle at Port Stanwix, in August, 1777. At first when new States came into the Union, a new stripe and a new star were added to the flag, but it was soon evident that the added stripes would make it very unwieldy. So on April 4, 1818, Congress passed this act, to establish the flag of the United States. SEC. 1. Be it enacted, etc. That from and after the fourth day of July next, the flag of the United States be thirteen horizontal stripes, alternate red and white; that the Union have twenty stars, white in a blue field. SEC. 2. Be it further enacted, that, on the admission of every new State into the Union, one star be added to the Union of the flag; and that such addition shall take effect on the fourth day of July succeeding such admission. In our flag today the thirteen stripes symbolize the thirteen original States, and the blue field bears forty-eight stars, one for each State in the Union. The five-pointed star is used, it is said, at Betsey Ross's suggestion. This five-pointed star is the seal of King Solomon, and the sign of infinity. Even the colors of the flag mean something: red stands for valor, blue for justice, and white for purity. The whole flag stands for freedom, liberty, and justice. Respect Due the Flag 1. The flag should not be hoisted before sunrise nor allowed to remain up after sunset. 2. At retreat, sunset, civilian spectators should stand at attention and give the military salute. 3. When the national colors are passing on parade or review the spectators should, if walking, halt, and if sitting, rise and stand at attention and uncover. 4. When the flag is flown at half-mast as a sign of mourning it should be hoisted to full staff at the conclusion of the funeral. In placing the flag at half-mast, it should first be hoisted to the top of the staff and then be lowered to position. Preliminary to lowering from half-mast it should first be raised to top. 5. On Memorial Day, May 30th, the flag should fly at half-mast from sunrise till noon, and at full mast from noon to sunset. The flag at half-mast is a sign of mourning. The flag flown upside down is a signal of distress. America The first home of social and religious freedom in America was in the Colony of Maryland. When all the other colonies were persecuting every one that did not believe in their own peculiar religious doctrine and making the most invidious social distinctions, Maryland--the Ever Faithful--was a haven of refuge for all. Situated in a middle place among the colonies, her doctrines gradually spread till today the proud boast of America is that she is the home of the free. Had the sentiments of Massachusetts prevailed, we would have had today a most bigoted form of religious government. Had John Locke's Carolina laws lasted, we would have been under a grinding oligarchy. Georgia under Oglethorpe's wise management joined hands with Calvert in Maryland, and the result of their joint efforts for the betterment of mankind is the grand Republic of the United States of today. Adams and Washington, Franklin and Lincoln are names which shine out from the pages of history today, and back of each was a good and honored mother. These were patriots--not politicians or place hunters. Throughout our history the emergency seems always to have found the man. And they have been prepared by our great women. For even if a man has not a wife it is seldom that any great thing is done that is not helped on by a woman. Girls, know your places. They are no mean positions that you are destined to hold. The pages of the history of the future may hold your names in a high and honored place. Do well your part today. The work of today is the history of tomorrow, and we are its makers. So let us strive to show just as grand names on the pages yet unwritten as are inscribed on those that we have for our proud inheritance. It is not necessary that every Scout should be proficient in all things suggested for practice. All should be able to drill and know the signs--secret and open--for the use of the organization. They should practice the precepts laid down for their guidance and be above all things "the little friend to all" that makes such a distinctive feature in the work and training of every day's meeting of Scouts. Consider it a paramount duty to attend all meetings and get the most out of the opportunities offered you in the American Band of Girl Scouts. Make your duties amusements and your amusements duties. So will you find that you daily increase in usefulness and your pleasure in life will grow broader. In union there is strength. The Union of Scouts is to be a strong union for the good of our nation in the future and an ever-increasing bond for success to ourselves and aid to others. The Star-Spangled Banner O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight, O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming; And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there! O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore, dimly seen thro' the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses? Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam, In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream-- 'Tis the star-spangled banner. O long may it wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! And where is that band who so vauntingly swore, 'Mid the havoc of war and the battle's confusion, A home and a country they'd leave us no more? Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave-- And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave, O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. O thus be it ever when freemen shall stand Between their loved homes and foul war's desolation, Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation. Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, And this be our motto, "In God is our trust"-- And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave, While the land of the free is the home of the brave. FRANCIS SCOTT KEY. America My country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing; Land where my fathers died, Land of the Pilgrims' pride, From every mountain side Let freedom ring. My native country, thee, Land of the noble free, Thy name I love; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills; My heart with rapture thrills Like that above. Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom's song; Let mortal tongues awake, Let all that breathe partake, Let rocks their silence break, The sound prolong! Our father's God, to Thee, Author of liberty, To Thee we sing: Long may our land be bright With freedom's holy light; Protect us by Thy might, Great God, our King. SAMUEL F. SMITH, 1832. Allegiance to the Flag I pledge allegiance to the flag, and to the republic for which it stands; one nation indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. Girl Scout Salute to the Flag A salute to the Flag should be the first number on the program of every meeting. Use the Scout full salute. The salute may be accompanied by the words of the pledge. Let the hand reach the forehead on the word "allegiance," pointing, palm outward, to the flag and recite the remaining words with hand still pointing to flag. READING LIST BOOKS ON MERIT BADGE SUBJECTS AMBULANCE: _Emergencies._ Gulick, C. E. _Firebrands._ Martin, F. E. _Home Nursing._ Harrison, E. _Sure Pop and the Safety Scouts._ Bailey, R. R. ASTRONOMY: _Story of the Heavens._ Ball, Roberts. _Heavens with an Opera Glass._ Serviss, Garrett. _The Friendly Stars._ Martin, M. E. _Ways of the Planets._ Martin, M. E. _Easy Guide to the Constellations._ Gall, James. _Sun Lore of All Ages._ Olcott, W. T. ART: _Composition._ Dow. _How to Judge a Picture._ Van Dyke. ARTS AND CRAFTS: _Art Crafting in Metals for Amateurs._ Chandler. _Art Crafts for Beginners._ Sanford, F. E. _Dan Beard's Books._ BIRDS: (_see also_ NATURALIST.) _Birds of Village and Field._ Merriam, Florence A. _Birds and Bees._ Burroughs, John. _Squirrels and Other Fur Bearers._ Burroughs, John. _Sharp Eyes._ Gibson, Wm. H. _Chapman's Books on Birds--According to Locality._ _Bird Guide._ Reed, Chester A. _Bird Craft._ Wright, M. A. _How to Attract the Birds._ Trafton, G. BOATSWAIN: _Boys' Outdoor Vacation Book._ Verrill, A. H. _Harper's Boating Book for Boys._ Verrill, A. H. CHILD NURSE: _Baby Clothing._ Hitching, W. _Care and Feeding of Children._ Holt, L. E. _Care and Training of Children._ Kerr, L. _Care of Milk and Its Use in the Home._ U. S. Dept. of Agriculture. CLERK: _Goodwin's Improved Bookkeeping and Business Manual._ Goodwin, J. H. _Handbook of Style._ (_Punctuation._) Houghton, Mifflin. _Modern Business Arithmetic._ Curtis, U. _New Practical Typewriting._ COOK, INVALID COOKING: _Boston Cooking-School Cook Book._ Fanner, F. A. _Food for the Invalid and the Convalescent._ Gibbs, W. S. _Mary Frances Cook Book._ Fryer, J. E. _When Mother Lets Us Cook._ Johnson, C. DAIRY MAID: _Dairy Chemistry._ Snyder, H. _Milk and Its Products._ Wing, H. H. _Official Travelers' Babcock Test._ Creamery Package Manufacturing Co., Chicago. ELECTRICIAN: _A. B. C. of Electricity._ Meadowcroft, W. H. _Boy Electrician._ Morgan, A. P. _Electricity for Young People._ Jenks, T. _Harper's Beginning Electricity._ Shafer, D. C. _Harper's Electricity Book for Boys._ Adams, J. H. FARMER: _Bees._ (_Farmers' Bulletin 447._) U. S. Dept. of Agr. _How to Keep Bees._ Comstock, A. B. _Hints to Poultry Raisers._ (_Farmers' Bulletin 528._) U. S. Dept. of Agr. _Incubation and Incubators._ (_Farmers' Bulletin 236._) U. S. Dept. of Agr. _Pig Management._ (_Farmers' Bulletin 205._) U. S. Dept. of Agr. _Poultry Management._ (_Farmers' Bulletin 287._) U. S. Dept. of Agr. _First Book of Birds._ Miller. _Second Book of Birds._ Miller. _Our Home Pets._ Miller. _The Garden Book for Young People._ Lounsberry. _Bird Stories from Burroughs._ _Butterflies and Bees._ Morley. _Insect Stories._ Kellog. _The Scout Garden._ Bennet, F. H. GARDENS: _Children's Gardens for Pleasure, Health and Education._ Parsons, H. G. _Garden Primer._ Tabor, G. _Harper's Book for Young Gardeners._ Verrill, A. H. _School Garden Book._ Weed, Clarence. _When Mother Lets Us Garden._ Duncan, F. _First Book of Birds._ Miller, O. T. _Second Book of Birds._ Miller, O. T. _Our Home Pets._ Miller, O. T. _Little Gardens for Boys and Girls._ Higgins, M. _The Garden Book for Young People._ Lounsberry. _Bird Stories._ Burroughs. _Butterflies and Bees._ Morley. _Insect Stories._ Kellog. _The Scout Garden._ Bennet, F. H. HEALTH: _Body at Work._ Jewett, F: G. _Good Health._ Jewett, F. G. _Personal Hygiene._ Pyle. _Handbook Girls' Branch of Public School Athletic League._ Burchenal. _The Human Mechanism._ Hough & Sedgwick. HOUSEKEEPER: _Good Housekeeping Magazine._ Gilman, E. H. _Housekeeping._ (Children's Library of Work and Play.) Gilman, E. H. _How to Live on a Small Income._ Hewitt, E. C. _Manual of Household Work and Management._ Butterworth. _Mary Frances, Housekeeper._ Fryer, J. E. LAUNDRESS: _Laundry Manual._ Balderston, L. R. _Housekeeping._ (_Children's Library of Work and Play._) Gilman, E. H. MUSICAL: _Dictionary of Music and Musicians._ Gove, G. _Operas that Every Child Should Know._ Bacon, M. S. _Stories from the Operas._ Davidson. _Story of Music and Musicians._ Millie, L. C. _Young People's Story of Music._ Whitcomb, I. P. _Intervals, Theory, Chords, and Ear Training._ Brown, J. P. NATURALIST: _Bird-Life._ Chapman, F. M. _Bird Neighbors._ Blanchan, N. _Flower Guide._ Reed, C. A. _Handbook of Birds of Eastern North America._ Chapman, F. M. _How to Attract the Birds._ Blanchan, N. _How to Know the Wild Flowers._ Parsons, F. T. _Land Birds._ Reed, C. A. _Nature Library._ Doubleday. _Standard Library of Natural History._ University Society. _Wild Flowers Every Child Should Know._ Stack, F. W. _The American Flower Garden._ Blanchan, Neltye. _How to Know the Wild Flowers._ Mrs. W. M. S. Dana. _How to Know the Ferns._ Parsons, Frances T. _Primer of Forestry._ Pinchot, Gifford. _Our Native Trees._ Keeler, Harriet L. _Ways of Wood Fowls._ Long, Wm. D. _Secrets of the Woods._ Long, Wm. D. _Lives of the Hunted._ Seton-Thompson, Ernest. _Wild Animals I Have Known._ Seton-Thompson, Ernest. _Jungle Books._ Kipling, Rudyard. _Our National Parks._ Muir, John. _Earth and Its Story._ Hulprin, Angels. _Naturalist._ Trafton. NEEDLEWOMAN: _Easy Steps in Sewing._ Fryer, J. E. _Home Art Crochet Book._ Klickmann, F. _Magic of Dress._ Gould. _Needlecraft._ (_Children's Library of Work and Play._) Archer, E. A. _Sewing for Little Girls._ Foster, O. H. _Three Hundred Things a Bright Girl Can Do._ Kelley, L. E. _When Mother Lets Us Sew._ Johnson, C. PIONEER: _Boy's Camp Book._ Cave, E. _Boy Scout's Hike Book._ Cave, E. _Camp Cookery._ Kephart, H. _On the Trail._ Beard, L. SIGNALLING: _Official Handbook for Girls._ SWIMMER: _Swimming._ Brewster. TELEGRAPHIST: _Official Handbook for Boys._ Boy Scouts of America. GENERAL READING FAMOUS WOMEN: _When I Was a Girl in Italy._ Ambrosi, M. _Promised Land._ Antin, M. _Lives of Girls Who Became Famous._ Bolton, S. K. _Joan of Arc._ de Monvel, B. _Girls' Book of Famous Queens._ Farmer, L. H. _Life of Mary Lyon._ Gilchrist, B. B. _Autobiography of a Tomboy._ Gilder, J. L. _Historic Girlhoods._ Holland, R. S. _Group of Famous Women._ Horton, E. _Story of My Life._ Keller, H. _New England Girlhood._ Larcom, L. _Heroines that Every Child Should Know._ Mabie, H. W. _Louise, Queen of Prussia._ Merz, H. _Louisa May Alcott._ Moses, B. _Life of Alice Freeman Palmer._ Palmer, G. H. _Florence Nightingale._ Richards, L. E. _When I Was Your Age._ Richards, L. E. _Wonder Workers._ Wade, M. H. _Jeanne D'Arc._ Wilmot-Buxton. _Queens of England._ Strickland. FAIRY TALES AND FOLK LORE: _Arabian Nights._ _Fairy Tales._ Andersen, H. C. _Granny's Wonderful Chair._ Browne, F. _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland._ Carroll, L. _Fairy Tales._ Grimm Bros. _Uncle Remus, His Songs and Sayings._ Harris. _Celtic Fairy Tales._ Jacobs, J. _Blue Fairy Book._ Lang, A. _Pinocchio._ Lorenzini, C. _Children's Book._ Scudder, H. E. HISTORY OF LITERATURE: _History of the English Language._ Lounsbury, T. P. _English Literature for Boys and Girls._ Marshall, H. E. _Introduction to American Literature._ Pancoast, H. S. POETRY: _Songs of Innocence._ Blake, Wm. _Golden Staircase._ Chisholm, L. _Poems of Childhood._ Field, E. _Lyra Heroica._ Henley, W. _Boy's Percy._ Lanier, S. _Nonsense Books._ Lear, E. _Story Telling Poems._ Olcott, F. J. _Golden Treasury._ Palgrave, F. T. _Book of Famous Verse._ Repplier, A. _Child's Garden of Verse._ Stevenson, R. L. _Golden Numbers._ Wiggin, K. D. _Pinafore Palace._ Wiggin, K. D. _Posy Ring._ Wiggin, K. D. _Lays of Ancient Rome._ Macaulay. _Longfellow's Poems._ Longfellow. _Lady of the Lake._ Scott. _Idylls of the King._ Tennyson. _Robin Hood Ballads._ Parker. _Rosemary and Rue._ Gordon. STORIES: _Lisbeth Longfrock._ Aanrud, A. _Little Men._ Alcott, L. M. _Little Women._ Alcott, L. M. _Under the Lilacs._ Alcott, L. M. _Marjorie Daw._ Aldrich, T. B. _Pride and Prejudice._ Austen, J. _Little Minister._ Barrie, J. M. _Lorna Doone._ Blackmore, R. D. _Jane Eyre._ Brontë, C. M. _Last Days of Pompeii._ Lytton, Bulwer. _Girlhood of Shakespeare's Heroines._ Clarke, M. C. _Friend of Cæsar._ Davis, W. S. _Egyptian Princess._ Ebers, G. M. _Silas Marner._ Eliot, G. _Ramona._ Jackson, H. H. _Hypatia._ Kingsley, C. _Mr. Achilles._ Lee, J. _Scottish Chiefs._ Porter, J. _Cloister and the Hearth._ Reade, C. _Daisy Chain._ Yonge, C. M. _Peter and Wendy._ Barrie, J. M. _Four Gondons._ Brown, E. A. _Peep-in-the-World._ Crichton, F. _Hans Brinker._ Dodge, M. M. _Lass of the Silver Sword._ Dubois, M. C. _Mary's Meadow._ Ewing, J. H. _Peterkin Papers._ Hale, L. P. _York and a Lancaster Rose._ Keary. _Bimbi._ Ramée. _Queen Hildegarde._ Richards, L. E. _Castle Blair._ Shaw, F. E. _Heidi._ Spyri, J. _Mother Carey's Chickens._ Wiggin, K. D. _David Copperfield._ Dickens. _A Tale of Two Cities._ Dickens. _The Talisman._ Sir Walter Scott. _Little Lord Fauntleroy._ Burnett. _Sarah Crewe._ Burnett. _Six Girls._ Irving, F. B. _John Halifax, Gentleman._ Craik, D. M. _Last of the Mohicans._ Cooper. _Pathfinder._ Cooper. _Deerslayer._ Cooper. _Otto of Silver Hand._ Pyle. _Merry Adventures of Rab._ Brown. _Treasure Island._ Stevenson. _Black Arrow._ Stevenson. _Jackanapes._ Ewing. _Nelly's Silver Mine_, Jackson. _Robinson Crusoe._ De Foe. _Rab and His Friends._ Brown. _Bob, Son of Battle._ Ollivant. _The Call of the Wild._ London. _Master Skylark._ Bennett. _The Prince and the Pauper._ Twain. _Harold, the Last of the Saxon Kings._ Bulwer-Lytton. _The White Company._ Doyle, Conan _Wonderful Adventures of Nils._ Lagerlöf. _Tales of Laughter._ Smith. _Richard Carvel._ Churchill. _Hugh Wynne._ Mitchell. _Quentin Durward._ Scott. _Ben Hur._ Wallace. _Holiday House._ Sinclair. _Alice in Wonderland._ Carroll. _Just So Stories._ Kipling. _Eight Cousins._ Alcott. _Juan and Juanita._ Baylor. _Black Beauty._ Sewell. _Birds' Christmas Carol._ Wiggin. _Story of Siegfried._ Baldwin. _Swiss Family Robinson._ Wyss. _Six to Sixteen._ Ewing. _Man Without a Country._ Hale. _Tom Brown's School Days._ Hughes. _Anne of Green Gables._ Montgomery. _Barnaby Lee._ Bennett. _Judith Shakespeare._ Black. _Colonel's Opera Cloak._ Brush. _Smith College Stories._ Daskam. _Captains Courageous._ Kipling. _Kidnapped._ Stevenson. _Rudder Grange._ Stockton. _A Gentleman of France._ Weyman. _New Chronicles of Rebecca._ Wiggin. _Polly Oliver's Problem._ Wiggin. _Dove in the Eagle's Nest._ Yonge. _Elizabeth and her German Garden._ (Anonymous.) _Princess Pricelta's Fortnight._ Arnim, M. A. _Days of Bruce._ Aguilar. _Tales of King Arthur._ Lang. BOOKS OF REFERENCE FOR MERIT BADGE BIRDS: Birds as Weed Destroyers. Pp. 221 to 232. Illus. (From _Yearbook_, 1898.) Paper, 5c. _A 1.10:133._ Birds that Eat Scale Insects. Pp. 189 to 198. Illus. (From _Yearbook_, 1906.) Paper, 5c. _A 1.10:416._ Bookkeeping. Farm Bookkeeping. 1912. 37 pp. Illus. (_Farmers' Bulletin 511._) Paper, 5c. _A 1.9:511._ Does it Pay the Farmer to Protect Birds? Pp. 165 to 178. Illus. (From _Yearbook_, 1907.) Paper, 5c. _A 1.10:443._ Economic Value of Predaceous Birds and Mammals. Pp. 187 to 194. Illus. (From _Yearbook_, 1908.) Paper, 5c. _A 1.10:474._ Fifty Common Birds of Farm and Orchard. 1913. 31 pp. Illus. (_Farmers' Bulletin 513._) Paper, 15c. _A 1.9:513._ Food of Some Well-Known Birds of Forest, Farm, and Garden. 1912. 35 pp. Illus. (_Farmers' Bulletin 506._) Paper, 5c. _A 1.9:506._ How Birds Affect the Orchard. Pp. 291 to 304. Illus. (From _Yearbook_, 1900.) Paper, 5c. _A 1.10:197._ Migratory Movements of Birds in Relation to Weather. Pp. 379 to 390. 1 illus. (From _Yearbook_, 1910.) Paper, 5c. _A 1.10:545._ Relation of Birds to Fruit Growing in California. Pp. 241 to 254. (From _Yearbook_, 1904.) Paper, 5c. _A 1.10:344._ Some Common Birds in their Relation to Agriculture. Revised, 1904. 48 pp. Illus. (_Farmers' Bulletin 54._) Paper, 5c. _A 1.9:54._ Some Common Game, Aquatic, and Rapacious Birds in Relation to Man. 1912. 30 pp. Illus. (_Farmers' Bulletin 497._) Paper, 5c. _A 1.9:497._ HEALTH: Health and Cleanliness--O'Shea and Kellogg--pp. 54-124. HOUSEKEEPING: Butter. Butter-Making on the Farm. 1905. 31 pp. (_Farmers' Bulletin 241._) Paper, 5c. _A 1.9:241._ Canning Vegetables in the Home. 1909. 16 pp. Illus. (_Farmers' Bulletin 359._) Paper, 5c. _A 1.9:359._ School Lessons on Corn. 1910. 29 pp. Illus. (_Farmers' Bulletin 409._) Paper, 5c. _A 1.9:409._ The Home and Family--Kinne and Cooley--pp. 96-137. Handbook of Domestic Science and Household Arts--Wilson--pp. 273-276 and 55-58. FARM HOUSES: Modern Conveniences for the Farm Home. 1906. 48 pp. Illus. (_Farmers' Bulletin 270._) Paper, 5c. _A 1.9:270._ FARMERS' BULLETINS: 34. Meats, Composition and Cooking. Paper, 5c. 131. Household Tests for the Detection of Oleomargarine and Renovated Butter. Paper, 5c. 154. Home Fruit Garden, Preparation and Care. Paper, 5c. 166. Cheese-Making on the Farm. Paper, 5c. 180. Game Laws for 1903. Paper, 5c. 185. Beautifying the Home Grounds. Paper, 5c. 188. Weeds Used in Medicine. Paper, 5c. 195. Annual Flowering Plants. Paper, 5c. 197. Importation of Game Birds and Eggs for Propagation. Paper, 5c. 218. School Garden. 2d revised edition. Paper, 5c. 234. Guinea Fowl and its Use as Food. Paper, 5c. 351. Tuberculin Test of Cattle for Tuberculosis. Paper, 5c. 375. Care of Food in Home, corrected to Mar. 25, 1910. Paper, 5c. 409. School Lessons on Corn. Paper, 5c. 459. House Flies. Paper, 5c. 468. Forestry in Nature Study. Paper, 5c. 478. How to Prevent Typhoid Fever. Paper, 5c. 506. Food of Some Well-Known Birds of Forest, Farm, and Garden. Paper, 5c. 511. Farm Bookkeeping. Paper, 5c. 513. Fifty Common Birds of Farm and Orchard. Paper, 15c. 525. Raising Guinea Pigs. Paper, 5c. FARMS: Figs. Smyrna Fig Culture in United States. Pp. 79 to 106. Illus. (From _Yearbook_, 1900.) Paper, 5c. _A 1.10:196._ FOREST FIRES: Attitude of Lumbermen toward Forest Fires. Pp. 133 to 140. Illus. (From _Yearbook_, 1904.) Paper, 5c. _A 1.10:337._ Forestry in Nature Study (with Key to Common Kinds of Trees). 1911. 43 pp. Illus. (_Farmers' Bulletin 468._) Paper, 5c. _A 1.9:468._ Grosbeaks. Our Grosbeaks and their Value to Agriculture. 1911. 14 pp. Illus. (_Farmers' Bulletin 456._) Paper, 5c. _A 1.9:456._ Headache Mixtures. Harmfulness of Headache Mixtures (containing Acetanilid, Antipyrin, and Phenacetin). 1909. 16 pp. (_Farmers' Bulletin 377._) Paper, 5c. _A 1.9:377._ PERFUMERY: Can Perfumery Farming Succeed in United States? Pp. 377 to 398. Illus. (From _Yearbook_, 1898.) Paper, 5c. _A 1.10:135._ PLANTS: Plants Useful to Attract Birds and Protect Fruit. Pp. 185 to 196. (From _Yearbook_, 1909.) Paper, 5c. _A 1.10:504._ School Exercises in Plant Production. 1910. 48 pp. Illus. (_Farmers' Bulletin 408._) Paper, 5c. _A 1.9:408._ POISONOUS PLANTS: Some Poisonous Plants of Northern Stock Ranges. Pp. 305 to 324. Illus. (From _Yearbook_, 1900.) Paper, 5c. _A 1.10:206._ School Garden. 2d revised edition, 1909. 41 pp. Illus. (_Farmers' Bulletin 218._) Paper, 5c. _Yearbook._ (Separates.) 414. Cage-Bird Traffic of United States. Paper, 10c. 485. Manufacture of Flavoring Extracts. Paper. 5c. _Farmers' Bulletins_ (These Bulletins can be obtained in Washington Agricultural Department for five cents.) Woman's Edition of Red Cross Abridged Text-Book on First Aid, can be obtained for 35 cents from Girl Scout Headquarters, 527 Fifth Avenue, New York City. Elementary Hygiene and Home Care of Sick, by Jane Delano. INDEX Accidents, 64, 131 Air, 121 Ambulance, 31 Archery, 82 Art, 142 Artificial respiration, 129 Artist, 32 Astronomy, 82, 142 Athletic feats, 55 Athletics, 48. (Also see Manual) Attendance, 33 Automobiling, 33 Aviation, 33 Babcock test, 119 Badge, 29 Badges, merit, 31 Bandaging, 131 Bath, 122 Bathing, precautions, 65 Bird Study, 34, 142 Bleeding, 133 Boating, 64 Boatswain, 34, 142 Body, 9 Books, 13, 146 Bronze cross, 30 Camping, 57 Camp oven, 63 Captain, 22 Career, 15, 16 Carey, Arthur A., 86 Charades, 54 Child nurse, 35, 120, 142 Civics, 36 Cleaning, 106, 111, 115 Cleanliness, 96 Clerk, 35, 143 Clothing, 67 Commands, 78. (Also see Manual) Commissioner, 20 Compass, 70, 71 Concentration, 18 Contents, table of, iii Continental code, 75 Conventional signs, 72 Cook, 37, 109, 139 Council, Local, 3 Council, National, 2 Crafts, 142 Dairy, 38, 116, 143 Dampness, 96 "Day and Night," 52 Dismissal, 28 Dodge ball, 53 Dressing wounds, 132 Drinking water, 97 Drowning, 126 Ears, 99 Economy, 13 Eggs, 110 Electricity, 38, 143 Employment, 15 Endurance, 102 Enrollment, 27 Equipment, camp, 66 Executive committee, 2 Exercise, 98, 103 Eyes, 99, 124 Farmer, 39, 143 Fire, 58 First-Class Scout, 26 Flag, 136 Flag Salute, 141 Fracture, 132 Frostbite, 135 Games, 48. (Also see Manual) Gardening, 39, 92, 144 Gas, 131 Golden eaglet, 30 Grades, 20 Habits, 12 Hams, curing, 120 Hand signals, 79 Hand-wrestling, 56 Headquarters, 1, 2 Health, 40, 98, 144 Helpfulness, 11 Home life, 106 Home nursing, 41 Horsemanship, 41 Housekeeping, 13, 23, 116, 119 and 144 Housewife, 106 Hygiene, personal, 96. (See Manual) Ice rescue, 130 Illness, 118 Influence of women, 9 Insect bites, 134 Interpreter, 42 Invalid cooking, 37 Investiture, 27 Ivy-poisoning, 130, 134 Kim's game, 53 Knots, 68 Laundress, 43 Laws, 7 Leader, 23 Lieutenant, 23 Marksmanship, 43 Measurements, 100 Meats, cooking, 110 Medals, 30 Membership, 20 Milk, 116 Modesty, a Scout's, 12 Morgan's game, 54 Morse code, 77 Motto, 6 Music, 43 Naturalist, 41 Needlewoman, 41 Needlework, 107 Nose, hygiene of, 98 Nosebleed, 124 Novelty competitions, 49 Nurse, 24 Observation, 15 Officers, 5 Orders, camp, 65 Organizing, 4 Orion, 84 Patch, Scout, 107 Pathfinder, 44 Patriotism, 18, 136 Patronesses, v Photography, 45 Physical development, 101 (Also see Manual) Pioneer, 45 Pledge to flag, 141 Promise, Scout's, 6 Provisions for camp, 61 Pulse, normal rate, 123 Reading, 13, 146 Reference books, 142 (Leaders, also see Manual) Respect to flag, 141 Routine, camp, 63 Salute, 3, 141 Sanitation, 94 Scoutcraft, 68 Scribe, 45 Sculptor, 52 Second-Class Scout, 25 Secretary, 21 Self-improvement, 9 Shooting, 81 Signaling, 75 Signs, 75 Snakes, 59 Song of the Fifty Stars, 86 Songs, 141 Stars, 83 Star Spangled Banner, 141 Stories, 142, 143 Strength, physical, 102 Study, 16. (Leaders, also see Manual, List of Books) Sun clock, 90 Swimmer, 46 Tag, 53 Team games, 49 Teeth, 99 Telegraphy, 47 Tenderfoot, 25 Tests, 25 "Thanks" badge, 29 Thermometer, 123 Three Deep, 51 Thrift, 14 Time by stars, 83 Tourniquet, 134 Treasurer, 21 Vanity, 9 Vegetables, 115 Water, drinking, 58, 117 
26345	----	[Illustration: "Thus they started in a line, Yhon leading" ... Page 182] GIRL SCOUTS IN THE ADIRONDACKS BY LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY AUTHOR OF THE POLLY BREWSTER BOOKS, THE LITTLE WASHINGTONS BOOKS ILLUSTRATED GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS NEW YORK Made in the United States of America COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY _The Girl Scouts in the Adirondacks_ _Printed in the U. S. A._ CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. THE FRIDAY JINX 1 II. ANOTHER DAY OF TROUBLES 24 III. IN THE MOUNTAINS AT LAST 41 IV. A VISIT TO GREY FOX CAMP 60 V. A STORY OF CREATION 72 VI. LOST ON THE TRAIL 91 VII. A LITTLE BUSINESS 106 VIII. JAKE'S INTERVIEW WITH A SKUNK 127 IX. LESSONS IN TRACKING 139 X. THE GIRL SCOUTS ENTERTAIN 157 XI. A CANOE TRIP 179 XII. FIRST AID 190 XIII. SHOOTING THE RAPIDS--AND OTHER THINGS 204 XIV. THE GRAND SURPRISE 214 ILLUSTRATIONS "Thus they started in a line, Yhon leading" (page 182) _Frontispiece_ PAGE "Would you prefer to sit here and dream, Betzy, or go back with me and eat sandwiches" 16 "We are lost, come find us" 98 "Where--which way did you hear them?" questioned Joan 211 GIRL SCOUTS IN THE ADIRONDACKS CHAPTER ONE THE FRIDAY JINX "Are we ready to start, girls?" called Mrs. Vernon, the Captain of Dandelion Troop of Girl Scouts, as she glanced at her protegées seated in two large touring cars. "Ready! Why, Verny, we've been waiting for you these ten minutes," retorted Juliet Lee, one of the original members of the troop. "And we're just crazy to be off before that black cloud overhead adds to mother's fear lest I never come home again," added Ruth Bentley, another of the first four girl scouts of Elmertown. "Well, then, it seems that all the baggage and outfit we need with us on the trip is safely stowed away, eh, Jim?" said Mrs. Vernon, looking at the driver of the other car. "Everything that I found waiting to be packed when I drove up to the side door," replied the chauffeur. "All right! Then we're off, folkses, but we'll send you word the moment we arrive at Old Forge in the Adirondacks," called Mrs. Vernon, to the crowd of relatives of the various girls, all gathered to watch the scouts drive away. "Good-by! Good-by!" now shouted many girlish voices, and "Good-by! Good-by!" was shouted back as the two seven-passenger cars started on the long journey. Mrs. Vernon led the way in her luxurious automobile, and as they turned the bend of the road, where the last of the group still watching on the Vernon lawn was lost to sight, she laughingly remarked: "I never thought a crowd of girls could get ready for such a long outing in so short a time." "It all depends on how badly the girls _want_ to be ready, Captain," retorted Joan Allison, the fourth girl of the number who founded Dandelion Camp of Girl Scouts the summer before. "Say, girls! I just felt a drop of rain from that inky cloud!" Betty Lee warned. She was Julie's sister, and they were two who had first suggested a scout organization. Mrs. Vernon slowed down and turned to the scouts. "Shall we stop to put on the rain-curtains?" "Mercy, no! It's only a sprinkle, and we're not sugar," exclaimed Joan, glancing at the sky. The other girls followed her gaze, and Julie said: "See all the blue sky! Enough to make the proverbial 'night-cap'." In case the reader has not yet met the four girls who had such a thrilling time while at camp the previous summer, it will be best to make their acquaintance now. As stated before, Juliet and Elizabeth Lee were the two sisters who planned having a scout troop for girls in Elmertown. Joan Allison and Ruth Bentley, both schoolmates of the Lee girls, eagerly agreed to add their efforts to the others' and secure the interest of enough girls for them to be able to apply for a charter from the Girl Scout Headquarters in New York City. Before they closed their camp on "Verny's Mountain" that summer, five other girls had been admitted to membership in the young Patrol, namely: Hester Wynant, fourteen; Anne Bailey, fourteen; Judith Blake, thirteen; her sister, Edith Blake, twelve; and Amy Ward, thirteen. Then during the winter, other girls who had heard of the good times the scouts had had in camp that past summer became so insistent to mothers at home that permission to join the organization was granted them. Having nine girls in their original Patrol, with Julie as Leader, and Joan for Corporal, the scouts now felt experienced enough to pass all the tests required to apply for a Troop Charter. The young scouts were an active group and when the Charter arrived from National Headquarters the same day the girls had planned to start for camp, there was great rejoicing. True to his promise given the Girl Scouts the summer previous, Mr. Gilroy had sent word to Mrs. Vernon when the camp in the Adirondacks was ready for them. When the girls found that Mrs. Vernon planned to use her large touring car for half of the number in the Troop to go in, and Ruth Bentley's father had offered his car for the other half, thus saving them great expense for railroad tickets, and giving them the pleasure of autoing the whole long distance, the excitement rose and would not be calmed down again. So it was not only a happy Troop that shouted good-by to relatives, but also a flushed, merry group of nine girls who could not keep silent for long. Ruth was in the rear seat of her father's car, which Jim was driving, when she suddenly sat up and called out to the chauffeur: "I'm sure one of our suitcases on the trunk-rack at the back must be loose, Jim. I hear it bump about every time you go over a rough place in the road." "It can't be, Miss Ruth," returned Jim, trying to peer out and see the baggage; "I strapped 'em on good and tight before we left." "Well, it happens to be my suitcase that's on top, and I'm sure I don't want to lose it," declared Ruth. "Maybe we'd better stop and make sure about it; we can soon catch up with Verny again," suggested Judith. So Jim sprang out to investigate. "The suitcases are all right, Miss Ruth, but somethin's wrong in the back all right." At that Ruth jumped out and joined the man. "What is it?" asked she, anxiously. "The sag in that spring 'pears to me to say it is about done for. We'll have to travel slow till we find a garage." "For mercy's sake! Didn't you and Pa's chauffeur overhaul both the cars thoroughly when you knew we were going on this trip?" "Your father sent this machine to the garage in Elmertown, 'cause he said they'd know how to do the job up better'n us," explained Jim. "Then it serves Dad right if he has to pay for a new spring! The idea of trusting strangers with his car at this important time! But here we are with a wornout old spring on our hands!" cried Ruth, stamping her foot impatiently. "Oh no, Ruth, not on our hands--but what is ten times worse--on the rear end of the car," laughed Hester. "Well, we've got to go slow, I suppose, and stop somewhere to replace the old thing," grumbled Ruth, climbing back in the car. "If 'Liza knew of this mischance, wouldn't she gloat over her 'Friday Bad Luck' prophecy?" laughed Ann. Jim started again, but carefully avoided the ruts and bumps in the road until he came to a large garage. Fortunately for all, they found a new spring in stock and the men were soon at work replacing the bad one. "Hurrah for us Jinx-breakers! This bit of luck in finding a new spring on hand more than offsets a Friday curse," gleefully cried Ruth. "You young ladies sure are lucky, but it will take some time to do the work, an' you may as well take a walk and see our nice Jersey town," suggested the proprietor of the garage. The scouts followed this sensible advice and stopped at a shop where they treated each other to soda, candy, and peanuts. There being nothing more thrilling to do, they sat down in the Park and ate the plebeian delicacy and talked. "I love peanuts, don't you?" Anne asked of the girls. "Yes, but they have to be enjoyed away from home, or folks will make fun of you," added Ruth. "Not any more, Ruth. When a five-cent bag of peanuts, these days, only contains ten nuts that lifts them out of the cheap class," laughed Hester. "And makes them a luxury, eh?" added Judith. By the time the peanuts were gone, Jim signaled the girls and they hurried back to the garage. It took but a moment for them to jump in and urge Jim to hurry after Verny's car, somewhere in the lead. Mile after mile of beautiful woodland, with now and then a small town, but with many flourishing farms along the way, were reeled off rapidly as the machine sped along as if on wings. Finally they reached a crossroad where the signboard warned them: "All travel limited to eight miles per hour." "Slow down, Jim, or you'll land us in a county jail," called Ruth. "Then Mrs. Vernon must be in jail--'cause she ain't in sight along the road, and to get as far as this she _had_ to speed," declared Jim. "It's funny she wouldn't stop to find out what became of us, when we dropped so far behind," ventured Hester. "They'll look us up at mealtime, never fear," laughed Anne. "We've got the hamper with us, you know." The others laughed at this remark, but they had not gone much farther along the road before they spied the Vernon automobile waiting under a great oak tree. When the tardy car came up, both parties began to shout, some asking where the delinquents had been, and the unfortunates to demand why folks wouldn't look behind once in a while! Finally Jim could make himself heard, and he explained about the spring and where they had to stop to replace the old one. "Well, _we_ stopped to discuss ways. We ought to decide the route we want to take before we reach Jersey City," said Mrs. Vernon. "Which is the route you'd chose, Verny?" added Ruth. "Well, we can save a lot of time by going along to Edgewater and cross on the Fort Lee boat. That takes us right to 130th Street and Broadway, New York. We avoid all crowds and city streets, but you will not see anything of the life and bustle of New York City." "How much time will we save?" asked Julie. "Because we've lost so much over that old spring," added Ruth. Mrs. Vernon smiled. "From upper New York we can drive right onto the State Road that runs direct to Albany. By selecting that way we will save a great deal of time, because traffic in the city is so congested that every driver has to travel slow and fall in line back of endless cars. At every corner when the signal holds up the entire line one has to stop to permit crosstown traffic a chance." "Then for goodness' sake, let's go through the country on this side of the Hudson, and cross where you said--Fort Lee Ferry," declared Julie. Every one agreeing to this decision, the plan was carried out as outlined by the Captain. Once on Broadway, where it passes Van Cortlandt Park, the girls called to Mrs. Vernon. "How about lunch--we're famished?" "Oh, don't let's stop here for lunch. Let's go on till we find a nicer spot in the country," returned Joan. "Maybe there won't be any better place," demurred Judith. "Oh, yes, there is. After we leave Yonkers we will find lots of spots, Verny says," called Julie, from the first car. "We need a shady place where a spring will give us water," said Betty. "A spring failing to bubble up at the proper place, we may have to be satisfied with a pump at some farmhouse," retorted her sister. The two cars sped swiftly along Broadway, through Yonkers, Hastings-on-Hudson, and Dobb's Ferry. At this last place the Captain pointed out the famous old Headquarters used by General Washington at the close of the Revolution. "Girls, there doesn't seem to be any picnic grounds for us along this State Road," remarked Mrs. Vernon. "Suppose we take a bite as we travel along, and cook a regular dinner when we are out in the country somewhere?" "We're willing, in fact, I am more than willing to eat," called Anne, the scout with the healthy appetite. So they drove on while refreshments were passed around, and every one admired the river scenes of the ever-changing panorama of the Hudson. Just beyond Peekskill the road ran under a culvert and a sharp turn on the other side made it impossible to see what was on the road ahead. The Captain made the turn very neatly and Jim was about to follow the leading car, when several shrill cries from the girls ahead caused him to put on the emergency brakes. The passengers in the second car could just see what had caused the frightened shouts from their friends in the first car. A gaunt farm horse was standing on his hind legs pawing the air madly, while a rickety old spring wagon seesawed uncertainly on the edge of a deep ditch beside the road. But the driver of the horse was on the road, hanging on to the bridle while plying a stout hickory stick freely over the animal's back. "Git down! Will yuh come to arth, yuh rascal?" shouted the irate woman who was garbed in a man's farm hat and a long duster. "Do you need any assistance?" called Mrs. Vernon, anxiously. "Not ef I kin git him to plant his feet on arth agin. He ain't got no spunk left to run away, 'cause he's ben out plowing all day, and it w'ar a shame to drive him to the store. But it hed to be, 'cuz the ole man tuk t'other hoss to go to a meetin'." As the unusual character talked, she tugged at the bridle until she finally had the horse quieted down again. Then he allowed his long ears to droop lazily, his spine to sag in the middle, and his erstwhile springy legs to bend as if he felt too weary to stand up. The woman with the weather-beaten face and toughened hands was a fluent speaker, even though she paid little attention to the latest style in dress for women. She leaned against the shaft of the wagon and plied her questions to the tourists as freely as she had plied the hickory stick to the horse. "Be you-all out fer a lark?" asked she, eyeing the number of girls in both cars. Jim thought to move his car gradually along the road so the scouts in his charge could join in the conversation with the woman. But the moment the horse saw the automobile crawling towards him, he jumped aside. The wagon-wheel turned suddenly and the unexpected happened; the woman who had been leaning heavily on the wheel was unceremoniously dropped to a sitting posture in the dusty road. Several of the scouts had to smother with handkerchiefs, a keen desire to laugh, but the owner of the horse seemed to take the situation good-naturedly. "Wal, ef that ain't jus' like Samson! He does the mos' onexpected tricks, so's that he keeps us guessin' what next." Jim sprang out of the car when he saw the result of his innocent action with the engine, but the agile woman was up before he could reach her side. She brushed the dust from her long coat and chuckled aloud: "I allus said that animal oughter be called Delilah 'cuz _she_ was so sly, but my ole man says 'Samson' was close enough to that critter, and this animal hez such long hair that it suits with the name." "You've just had him clipped, I see," ventured Mrs. Vernon. "Not clipped, Captain--but shorn of his locks like Samson," laughed Julie. "Maybe that's why he feels so tired," added Joan, quickly. Every one but the farmer's wife laughed. She seemed very serious over the conversation, and nodded her head affirmatively. "Well, we have to drive on, madam, but we're sorry to have frightened Samson," said Mrs. Vernon, in order to make an end to the scene. "Say, couldn't you tell us where there is a nice picnic place near here?" called Jim, as the first car started. "Yeh--a few miles furder on. You'll find a nice little brook in a grove of sugar-maples, with green grass on all sides." Jim thanked the woman, and started his car. Mrs. Vernon was informed of the grove which was to be a stopping place for dinner, and all were eagerly on the lookout for the spot that would offer such an ideal resting place. But it was the longest "few miles" any of the scouts had traveled, for the meter showed many, many miles before any grove was seen. There was no brook in it, but the grass was very green, and the maple grove, which crowded a knoll a short distance from the road, looked cool and inviting. As usual, Julie was the first one out of the cars and over the fence. She started to cross the very green grass, but instantly sank into the water that was hidden under the green blades. "Help! Oh, I'm drowning!" shouted she, struggling to pull her feet clear of the bog. But she would free one foot, and instantly the other would sink. Then she tried to drag that one out, but the first one would go down again. Both together she could not get out. "Oh, oh! See the mess poor Julie's in!" called one of the girls. Mrs. Vernon was gazing quickly around for some sort of help to get the scout out, but the girls stood about the place sympathizing with the furious scout. "Is it like that all over there, Julie?" called Betty, anxiously. "How do I know? Come over and find out for yourself!" snapped her sister. The girls laughed at the retort, but Betty added: "I only wanted to know if it was safe for me to come over and help you out." Julie straightened up and glared at her soft-hearted sister. "You sound just like our Sunday school teacher when she reads: 'Come over into Macedonia and help.'" Again the audience of girls laughed appreciatively, but Julie was too busy keeping her feet "treading water" to pay any attention to their enjoyment. Meantime, Jim had removed some rails from the fence and was bringing them to the scout's aid. "Now, Miss Julie, when I shove these over, you manage to work an arm over each one, and sort of lift yourself out that way. I'll shove others over for you to step on next, and in that way you can get out and across to us," advised Jim, working as he spoke. Finally Julie was rescued from the mire, and then the Captain said: "Every one walk along that elevated bank, over there, to reach the grove, as this entire area may be a boggy spring." But the grass under the trees in the grove was found to be hard and dry, and they soon began to prepare luncheon. While Mrs. Vernon unpacked the hamper, the scouts were detailed on various duties: some to build a fire, some to hunt spring water, some to set table on the grass. But Julie was excused from all these tasks, as she had more than enough work to do in cleaning the mud from her boots and stockings. When luncheon was almost ready, Judith and Amy, who had been sent to find the spring and bring back drinking water, reported: "We couldn't find any spring." Julie looked up and jeered: "You are fine scouts! Couldn't find a spring when all you have to do is to find the source of all that water where I went down!" "Water! That looked like mud," retorted Judith. "We'll go for the water," volunteered Joan, catching hold of Betty's sleeve to take her along. So they started, and as Julie had said, the spring that fed the boggy spot was not far back in the grove. The water gurgled down from a cleft in a huge rock, and on either side of the small pool wood violets dipped their fragrant petals into the sparkling mirror. Betty sat down upon a flat rock beside the pool to enjoy the scene. But practical Joan filled the pail with cold water and then laughed at poetical Betty. "Would you prefer to sit here and dream, Betty--or go back with me and eat ham sandwiches?" "Oh, I forgot where I was," laughed Betty, rising reluctantly to help carry the pail of water. "That's what I thought," tittered Joan, "but the rest of the girls prefer something more solid than dreams." During the luncheon the Captain said: "Wouldn't it be splendid if each one of us kept a diary of what happens during this summer's camp? Then we can rewrite the facts when we go home and make a good story of it. Perhaps a real publisher will buy it from us and thus give us a fund for next year's outing--if we have one." "Oh, that is great!" exclaimed several voices with girlish enthusiasm. "Well then, when we camp to-night, we'll jot down the episodes of the day's trip--not forgetting to dwell at length on 'Samson,' and Julie's side-plays," remarked the Captain, smilingly. "Has any one thought of a stopping place for the night?" asked Jim. "Not definitely, Jim; but I hope to cross the river at Poughkeepsie and drive along the west shore as far as possible. Then we can pitch camp at any good place we find," replied the Captain. They had not gone much farther before Ruth called: "It looks as if the rear tire on Verny's car was flat!" The Captain slowed up, and every one tried to see the tire. "That's what it is, all right, Captain!" ejaculated Jim, impatiently. "Dear me! That means another delay!" sighed several girls. The car had to be jacked up and Jim went to work to mend the puncture in the tube, then pumped and pumped until the tire was properly inflated once more. As the tourists climbed into their respective seats in the automobiles, Joan said: "Well, Captain, this wasn't such a bad day after all--in spite of being a Friday." "I'm thankful for it, too," sighed Betty, fervently. The cars made good time after that and passed over the ferry at Poughkeepsie, to travel northward on the road that ran along the west shore. They pitched camp in some woods and soon had a fire started to heat the canned soup they had brought. When all else was ready, the Captain banged upon a tin pan to call the scouts to dine. "Um! That tomato soup smells good!" exclaimed Joan, sniffing audibly, as she saw the contents of the pan that stood over the fire. "Will you serve it, Jo--you are nearest the pan?" said Mrs. Vernon, passing the basket that held the tin cups. "Here! Everybody hold up a mug to fill, while I come around with the pan!" ordered Joan, taking hold of the pan-handle that had been over the fire a long time. "Oo-oouch!" cried the girl, whipping her hand up and down as she danced wildly about. "You didn't spill the soup, I hope!" exclaimed Anne, with deep concern. "What difference would that make--a little cheap soup? But my hand--oh, it's got a trail blazed clean across the palm!" wailed Joan, showing her red-skinned hand to sympathizing friends. "Poor old scout! We have to learn all kinds of blazing, I suppose," murmured Julie. "And the soup _is_ all safe--Jo never dropped the pan!" declared Anne, with gratification in her tones. "Here, Miss Jo," said Jim, who had gone for a bottle kept in the kit. "Pour this olive oil all over the hand and the smart will soon stop." He hurried to give the bottle to Joan but his toe caught in a bramble and tripped him. The bottle flew from his hand and struck the root where Joan sat. The glass shattered and the oil ran out the grass at the scout's feet. [Illustration: "Would you prefer to sit here and dream, Betzy, or go back with me and eat sandwiches" ... Page 16] "Well, well! it must be the Friday Jinx that still pursues us," remarked Jim, gazing regretfully at the glistening oil that formed beads on the blades of grass. The girls laughed merrily, but Mrs. Vernon seemed serious. She was about to speak, when Amy asked Joan to pass the crackers. She picked up the box that was nearest her, and turned to hand them to her next neighbor, when her foot slipped on the oily grass and she sat down suddenly upon the stump. The box fell in Hester's lap, but Joan clapped a hand over her mouth and smothered a howl. "Goodness me! What's the matter now, Jo!" cried Ruth, seeing the girl's convulsed face. Joan shook her head helplessly, but her eyes were filled with tears. Every one wondered what could have happened, and when the scout could speak she said thickly: "Oh, that oil! I slipped and bit the end of my tongue clear off--I'm sure of it!" "Stick it out and let's see," demanded Ruth. "That's what comes of having too much of a good thing!" declared Julie, teasingly. Every one but the Captain laughed, and she said seriously: "Do you know, girls, that I've had an idea about all this talk over Friday being a 'bad luck' day. Of course it is perfectly absurd to intelligent people, but there are enough superstitious folk left in the world who actually think Friday has some power to bring ill luck with it. "Now I believe that it is the _fear_ and general belief in the superstition that carries any weight with it. If we, as good intelligent scouts, will try to break this silly fear for others, we shall have to begin with ourselves, by not referring to the superstition with the sense of its having _any_ power to act." The girls listened seriously, as they always did when their Captain started one of her "sermonettes" as Julie called them; and when she had concluded, Joan said: "In other words, you want us to starve the poor wraith still more by withdrawing any thoughts from the matter whatever?" "Exactly! You've worded it better than I could have done myself," responded the Captain, emphatically. When supper was over and everything about camp had been prepared for the night, Joan suggested taking a stroll down the picturesque country road. The gloaming was so inviting that the scouts decided to saunter down the woodsy road. They continued along the inviting footpath for more than a mile before they noticed a heavy fog settling upon everything. "Better turn and go back, girls. This fog is obscuring everything along the way," suggested Mrs. Vernon. "B-r-r-r! Isn't it damp!" shivered Joan. "Yes, and it will be worse before we get home," added Judith. They retraced their steps, but the fog came thicker and heavier all the time, and before they had gone more than half the way back, it was necessary for the scouts to go single file in order to keep in the footpath that ran along the top of a high grassy bank beside the narrow road. "It would be so much simpler to hike along the road, Verny," suggested Hester. "But there are so many machines traveling back and forth, and we'd have to scramble up this wet slippery bank to get out of the way every time one rushed past," explained Julie. Julie was in front, heading the line. Being Scout Leader of the Troop, she naturally led in most things. Suddenly she stopped short and warned those back of her: "Look out for this big boulder right in the pathway--have to detour towards the fence!" "Boulder! Why, there wasn't any boulder here on our way over," argued Ruth. "The fog's in Julie's eyes," laughed Joan. "Maybe we didn't notice a rock before," ventured Amy. "Maybe we are on the wrong road," said Anne. "We're right, all right, but I see a boulder in the way. If you don't believe me, come here and sprain your toe kicking it!" A few of the scouts crowded in front to peer through the puzzling fog to see the questionable boulder, but IT unexpectedly got upon its clumsy feet and started for the girls. In the fog it loomed up as big as an elephant. "Murder! Fire! Help! Help!!" came in confused screams from the scouts in front, as they turned precipitously to flee from this unknown danger. The confusion, as they fell back upon the scouts behind, while the great "boulder" still advanced slowly, was awful! But the soft earth of the bank had been washed out from under the top layer of roots and grass, and when so many stamping, crowding girls brought their weight upon the crumbling ground, it caved in with them. Jumping, screaming, tumbling scouts now went headlong down the slide of five feet into the roadway. The Captain and Betty had been far enough in the rear to escape this general stampede, but they, too, saw the dark object trying to skirt the newly broken-down embankment, and they slid quickly down the wet weedy bank to get away from this ghostlike creature that crept towards them. While brave scouts were getting up from the little ditch where they had rolled, a plaintive call from the "boulder" above identified the creature as belonging to the bovine kingdom. A second "Moo-oo," as the cow passed slowly down the bank to the road, where she hoped to find some one to lead her home, created a wild laugh from every one. CHAPTER TWO ANOTHER DAY OF TROUBLES Early in the morning the scouts heard Jim rattling the pans while he essayed to cook breakfast. They were soon up and dressed, and being ready for another day's adventuring, they offered their services to the cook. "Last night after you-all went for that hike, I mooned around some myself. I saw a little farmhouse over that hill, and I think a couple of girls might try to get some milk for breakfast," suggested Jim, pointing over the brow of a slight grade. "All right, Hester and I will go for it, Verny!" exclaimed Amy. "Very well, girls; the rest of us will do what we can to help Jim. Breakfast will be all ready by the time you return, so don't dawdle on the way, will you?" replied the Captain. "Take the big thermos bottle that will keep the milk cold all day, and bring the breakfast milk in this pail," suggested Julie, handing the girls both articles as she spoke. Hester and Amy disappeared over the brow of the hill where Jim said the farm was located, but breakfast was ready and waiting a long time before a sight of the girls was had again. Hester carried the pail very carefully, and Amy held the bottle, so it was evident that they had milk, but why should they seem to laugh so merrily over something, as they drew near the scouts? "What do you think happened to us?" called Amy. "You'll never guess--we got chased by a bull!" added Hester. "Oh, never!" cried the scouts who had been waiting anxiously. "Yes, sir! We heard a cow and knew there must be a farm," began Amy excitedly, but her companion interrupted her and said: "That wasn't a cow we heard, but the bellow of this bull!" "Do tell us all about how you escaped," chorused the eager voices of many girls. Every one was anxious to wait on the heroines, and after they had been served everything at one time, they began to munch and talk. "Well, first we left here and thrashed through those bushes back there," said Hester, nodding her head towards the alder bushes, "to reach the place where we heard the cow--as we thought." Here Hester choked over the egg, and Amy quickly took up the story: "And we were halfway across a pasture lot when Hester, who was first, yelled wildly and waved her arms. I looked up, 'cause I was watching where I walked, the lot was pawed up into such hummocks, and saw Hester racing for the low boughs of an apple-tree. Then I heard a thumping, and saw a big bull charging across the meadow, making straight for us!" Amy gasped and needed a drink of water, then Hester continued the tale: "Oh, girls, it was thrilling! I managed to scramble up in the apple-tree, and turned to see what had become of Amy. There she was, sprinting like a Marathoner for the barbed-wire fence that enclosed the lot. She back-trailed over to it, and up over it she went, just like a swallow flies, but look at her stockings and skirt!" Every one looked at Amy's apparel and sympathized with her, yet every scout wished she had had such an exciting time. "Now they can win a badge for story-telling, can't they, Verny?" said Betty, glad for her two pals. "And another one for mending," laughed Julie, vindictively. "Poor Julie's awful sore about that mud," murmured Amy, winking an eye at the others. Every one laughed, but the Captain said: "Go on and finish the yarn." "Well, I left Hester in the tree--safety first, you know--with the bull standing under it, waiting for her, while I skirted the lot and reached the house. When I told the old lady how we happened to be in such a fix, she threw her gingham apron over her head and sat down on the doorstep to laugh. "I was beginning to feel offended, when she glanced up. She understood, and said: 'Deary, that ole bull has to be helped to his stall every night after a day in the pastoor. He oughter been butchered years an' years ago, but you see he saved me from a wicked tramp one day, an' father sayed Bill had earned his life-pension fer that. So Bill's safe from the slaughter-house, but he sure is a nuisance these days. Why, this mad run of his'n will keep him wheezin' fer a hull week. Now come with me an' I'll show you how he's payin' the price fer actin' like a three-year-old!" "I followed the old lady to the fence, and there, sure enough! Bill was sprawled out under the tree, puffing for breath, but poor Hester sat in the branches wailing because she dared not come down while the bull was making such a snorting noise!" The scouts laughed heartily at the graphic picture of Hester crying up in the tree, but the girl retorted, "Well, isn't 'Discretion the better part of valor'?" "Of course it is! We'd have done the same thing," agreed Mrs. Vernon, still laughing at Amy's story. Then she suggested breaking camp. After cleaning away all signs of camping, the scouts climbed into the cars which were soon speeding along. They were keen, now, for something new that they could write in their diaries, and many interesting things were seen and dilated upon as they rode past. As the autos neared Schenectady, one of the scouts began singing; in a few moments all the girls were singing with her. But a hound ran out of the gate of a farmhouse and barked at the oncoming singers. Then the distracted dog sat down and lifted his snout high in the air. His dismal prolonged howl of protest at such singing effectually ended the song, and Julie called to the animal, "Wise doggy--to be able to tell singing from _singing_!" The weather was all that could be desired, and the two cars were in fine shape for the run. After they left Amsterdam, where the large carpet-mills would have offered interesting entertainment had not the scouts a greater ambition in view, that of reaching camp--they voted to stop for no sightseeing along the way. So they kept along the road to Fonda. Here they left the railroad turnpike and went northward to Johnstown. At this place Mrs. Vernon made an error in judgment. She should have gone westerly, through Rockwood, Lascelville, Oppenheim, and so on to Delgeville. But she took the northward road, which looked better and was more traveled. Not until she came to Gloversville did she realize the mistake. Then she stopped and questioned a policeman how to reach her destination. And he explained about the country road she must follow due west in order to reach Rockwood, where the state roads would be picked up again. This advice was followed, and they traveled over the bad road until a crossroad was reached. There was no mention made of this spot on the road-map, and there was no signpost to direct a lost tourist. So the Captain said, "We'll take the right-hand turn, it looks best." Further on, the road descended and ran close to a river. "Dear me, I hope we didn't take the wrong turn, anyway!" cried Mrs. Vernon. "That officer never told me about a crossroad." "And it's going to pour, too. Just look at that black cloud," said Joan. "It hasn't thundered yet," Hester said, trying to be cheerful. At the same moment a flash satisfied every one that a shower was imminent, and Jim failed to relieve their fears when he said, "We don't want to get caught on this low land when it rains. The road is lower than the river and will soon be flooded over." That spurred on the Captain, and she made the car fairly fly, in order to reach higher ground before the shower came. But the storm won out. "I felt a drop of rain!" called Julie. "So did I--two drops more!" seconded Ruth. "We'd better stop to button down the rain-curtains, Captain," advised Jim. "Maybe we can reach high ground soon, Jim!" called back Mrs. Vernon, still speeding along the marshy road. A loud peal of thunder and inky clouds warned her, however, that this would be no trifling shower, so she stopped reluctantly for the curtains to be fastened down over the sides of the cars. The girls got out while the rain-curtains were sought in the box under the seat, and Jim removed numerous items before he reached them in the bottom. "Gee! everything under the sun was piled in here!" growled he. And by the time he did get the covers out, the rain was falling hard. While Jim and Mrs. Vernon secured the curtains on the buttons, the scouts transferred the pyramid of camping necessities back into the boxes under the seats. Then when all were snugly sheltered from the rain, the Captain proceeded to start her car. It failed to respond, however. She tried again, with no success. Then she turned and called to Jim. "Something must be wrong, Jim!" "Mebbe it's 'cause the wheels is sunk so deep in that soft mud," said he. "It's 'most up to the hubs." "No--something is wrong with the engine," returned she. "I'll slip on my oilskin and see," said Jim, finally. "Oh, Jim! Don't slip on it--just _put_ it on," giggled Julie, the irrepressible. "Humph!" was all the reply she got at the stale joke. "Jim, I'll help you," now offered Betty, willingly. "You gals just sit still, will you?" growled Jim impatiently, as he jumped out into the muddy road. The wind came tearing down the valley that lay between the mountains, driving shreds of storm-clouds before it. Gusts of rain dashed against Jim's face as he peered and poked about the stubborn engine, but still the obstinate machine refused to budge. "I can't see a durn thing that's the matter with it!" shouted he, trying to make himself heard above the whistling of the wind. "Better get back in your car until the worst is over," called back Mrs. Vernon. So they all waited patiently for the rain to cease, but the storm grew worse, while the clouds seemed to fairly empty themselves right over the stalled cars. Suddenly Jim gave a frightened cry: "Great Scott, Captain! The river's overflowin' her banks, and this road's gettin' under water!" "Then we've just _got_ to get out of this fix somehow!" wailed Mrs. Vernon, gazing helplessly around for aid. "I'll try to work my car close up to the other and see if I can't push you ahead," suggested Jim, starting his engine as he spoke. But this idea failed to render the assistance they looked for. "I think you need a good hard impact to send you out of that mud. The wheels are stuck," called Julie, who had been considering the plight. "But how can we _get_ an impact? Jim can't crush in the radiator on his car, you know! And the fender won't do it," said Ruth. "Let a few of us get some of those stout rails from that fence and shove them under the back of the machine. The rest of the girls can tie a rope to the front and pull. Then when we give a signal, Jim can push with his machine, while Verny throws hers into high--something ought to happen with all that!" suggested Julie. Anything seemed better than sitting helplessly while seeing the water slowly rising in the roadway. So the plan proposed by Julie was put into operation. Two long rails were shoved, one under each side of the back of the car, with two scouts ready to apply all their youthful muscle up on each rail. Four scouts stood in front holding to a rope, ready to pull. The Captain sat at the wheel ready to speed, and Jim waited in his car behind, ready to drive on. "Now, when I yell 'go,' every one strain your muscles fit to crack. It's the only way we'll get out of this," ordered Julie. "Tell us when you're going to say 'go'!" begged Ruth. "I'll shout 'One, two, three--GO'--then _go_!" Julie braced herself, took a deep breath, and cried, "All ready--one, two, three--GO!" Four in front pulled with might and main. Mrs. Vernon's engine chugged ready to break. Jim almost pushed the radiator in, and the four scouts pushing on the rails--well, "they were not." Jim was heard roaring unrestrainedly, while four girls in front were standing and staring as if at an apparition. All the time, the rain fell in a deluge, but Mrs. Vernon jumped out into the mud to see what had happened at the rear. Then she, too, gasped. Both the rails were completely worm-eaten, but how should girls have known that? They were placed under the car at a dangerous angle for their future use in the fence, and when the good strong muscles of four scouts brought their weight upon the rails to lift the car somewhat, the timber quickly split up and precipitated the four boosters, face downward, in the mud. "Oh, dear me! This is the last straw!" moaned Mrs. Vernon. "No--the last rails!" sputtered Julie, trying to laugh. "Girls--hold your faces up to the rain and it will wash the mud from your eyes!" yelled Judith, who waited on the running board for further developments. She had hardly spoken when a swift shaft of blinding light and a deafening crack of thunder sent a panic into every one. They were stunned for a moment, and then such a howl as went up from nine lusty throats! "We're struck!" yelled some. "Oh, we're killed!" added others, but it took only a second after they had caught their breaths to pile, willy-nilly, into the cars, where they huddled until the fright had subsided. Shortly after the lightning had struck a large tree further up the road, the rain suddenly stopped and the sun shone out as hot and bright as ever. "My! I feel like Pollyanna would," sighed Julie. "'I'm glad, _glad_, GLAD' we weren't standing under that tree!" "We can only die once," responded Ruth, sighing as she gazed down at the flooded road. "Ruth thinks she'd rather die quickly, than by slow degrees in being choked in this mud," laughed Julie, catching Ruth's thought. Every one laughed and that made them feel more cheerful. Then just back of them came the sound of horses' hoofs and a kindly voice called out, "Well, well, this is some plight you-all are in, eh?" They turned and beheld a nice old man sitting astride one plow-horse and leading a second. "Reckon you didn't know this was one of the worst roads in the county when it rains." Mrs. Vernon explained how it came about that they were there, and the old man said, "Fortunately, I cut across that field in order to reach home. I was late and, as this is meeting night, I have to leave home earlier than usual. Now I can help you pull out, 'cause my team is pretty powerful." He hitched his horses to the front of the stalled car, and it was soon pulled up on higher ground where Jim could crawl under and see what was wrong with the works. "We are most grateful to you, sir, for your timely help," said Mrs. Vernon. "How much do we owe you for this great service?" "I'm glad I could help, madam. I am the parson of the district, hereabouts, and I try to do good by the wayside as I walk this life-road." "Then, if you will not accept a gift for yourself, you cannot refuse it for your flock. We will give to any needy one in your parish," said Mrs. Vernon, handing him a folded bill. Being sent along the right road with the minister's directions and blessing, the cars soon reached Rockwood, and from there, followed the usual route to Delgeville. The highway now ended, and a pretty country road took its place as far as Salisbury, where a turnpike road began and continued as far as Middleville. From the latter town onward, the roads were indifferent or bad as far as Gravesville. There were many interesting experiences for the scouts to write up in their books later on, such as running into a balky herd of cows and being threatened for damages by the farmer; holding their breaths when Mrs. Vernon ran over a lot of broken glass sprinkled across the road--but the tires held and no damage was done; stopping to bargain for a string of fish that a little freckled-face boy had for sale; and last, but not least, just before reaching Gravesville, being warned by a girl of twelve of a masquerading constable, further up the road, who arrested more speeding drivers than any other constable in the county. When asked why she showed the scouts this partiality, the girl said: "Because I'm going to be a scout myself, as soon as that new Manual gets here. I wrote fer it t'other day, and I've got five schoolgirls ready to start with me. Maw says she will ask the teacher to be our Captain." Thereupon followed a good scout talk by Mrs. Vernon, the country girl listening with all her wits alert. "How'd you know we were scouts?" asked Julie, curiously. "By that pennant flyin' in front, of course!" retorted the girl. As the scouts drove away, Mrs. Vernon said, "She'll make a first-class scout, because she uses her eyes and other faculties." After leaving the town of Gravesville, the scouts took a short cut to Prospect, but the roads were steep and rough, and it was all the engines could do to mount the grades. Then the opposite down slopes were so steep and sudden that it was necessary to put on all brakes and shut off the engines. One of these down grades had a sharp turn at the bottom, with a purling stream running under a rustic bridge immediately at the base of the mountain. On the other side of the bridge, the road rose abruptly up the side of another mountain. The descent was made nicely and the Captain's car crossed the bridge, but Jim's car stopped unexpectedly just as it reached the bridge at the foot of the mountain. "Another case of push!" laughed Julie. "All out!" ordered Jim. "What now?" called Mrs. Vernon, as she also stopped her car to ask what was wrong. "If only your car was behind, you could shove us across the bridge, but there isn't enough room in this trap to do anything." "Every one will have to help, Jim; the girls can push and pull the car back to the grade, while you work the engine. Maybe it will start that way," suggested Mrs. Vernon, waving her passengers out to help the stranded car. After half an hour's work, Jim suddenly called, "My! what a lot of cotton-heads we are! Here, Captain, just back up and give us a tow across the bridge--that's all!" At this simple remedy every one laughed. The steep climb of the mountain was accomplished without trouble, and there the road wound back and forth like a serpent's trail. Rocks, weighing tons, overhung with lovely vines, jutted out from the sides of the cut-out road that edged the cliff. Again, mossy dells where maidenhair fern waved fragile fronds at the girls, nestled under giant groups of pines. The chorus of wild birds mingled with the subdued music of falling water, to the keen appreciation of the tourists who delighted in this impressive scene as only scouts can. The cars continued slowly through this peaceful place, but Jim's engine suddenly stopped short again. He frowned and got out to examine it. "Gee, Captain! the tank needs gas and no place at hand to buy the feed. What shall I do?" "We didn't cross that other bridge until we came to it," giggled Julie, quickly. "I suppose I've got to tow you along until we find gas, somewhere," said Mrs. Vernon. So the second car was harnessed to the leader and they started again. In this manner they traveled until they came to a small settlement that boasted an "Emporium" where all the "latest styles and goods were sold." On the front porch of this store, in a low rocking-chair, sat the owner, a lady of doubtful years. She jumped up spryly when the cars stopped at the steps, and smiled invitingly. "Do you sell gasoline?" asked Mrs. Vernon, politely. "I guess I kin oblige you," replied the lady, going indoors. Jim jumped out and began to unscrew the plug on the tank. "Now who'd a thought we could get gas in this little shop?" declared Ruth, surprised. "You never can tell! I s'pose she wants to make all she can in every way," added Hester. Meantime the lady returned to the door and called out, "Won't you please step this way?" Jim thought she had to fill a measure from some barrel in the back, so he went in. But the lady was searching diligently along a shelf of bottles until she saw the one she wanted. "Here they be--I knew I had 'em somewhere. One's ten cents, and the other's a twenty-five cent bottle. But you have to take keer of fire, you know." Jim scratched his head, as he said, "I'll take a five-gallon can, please, ma'am." For a second, the old lady was amazed, but she rose to the occasion and showed herself a true business woman, "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm just out of that size to-day, but can't you come back to-morrow--I'll have it then?" Jim laughed. "I need it for the tank. The car won't go on nor come back, unless I get some gas for it." "Oh! I thought you wanted some to clean gloves, or shoes. That's the only kind I keep on hand." "Maybe you can tell us where we can get a gallon or so," said Jim, trying hard to keep a straight face. "If you kin wait until Jed gits back I kin send him to Prospeck Junction for a gallin. He can't carry five gallins, I fear." Jim started out and the shopkeeper followed as she spoke. So Mrs. Vernon asked, "Where is Prospect Junction?" "Jus' over yander, a bit of ways. It's quite a gay resort, I've hear'd Jed say, where they sells gas to riders what come through. But I hain't never gone there, 'cause I don't mingle with society. I am a church member and 'tends to my business." The lady tossed her head with a self-righteous air as she said the last words. Jim said: "I'm sorry that four-ounce bottle wouldn't do, Missus." And the scouts bowed as they left her standing on the "stoop." CHAPTER THREE IN THE MOUNTAINS AT LAST The scouts finally reached Old Forge, where they had been due a full day sooner. Mr. Gilroy was worried at their non-appearance and had telephoned to their homes to learn that they had left on time. Then he followed them along their route and at some places he heard they had stopped and gone again, and at others that they had not yet arrived. But the moment the girls saw him and heard his complaint, they laughed at his concern. "Nice way to treat your adopted father--laugh at him, because he worried over his girls!" said he in pretended grievance. "But what could possibly happen when we had Jim and Verny at the wheels?" asked Ruth. "That's just it! With the Captain leading, I was sure you would be jailed for speeding, and would need me to bail you out," teased he. "We needed baling out when we got in the river-flood, but not in jail!" laughed Julie. "If we had dreamed you had a 'phone way up here, we would have called you to help us, that time," added Joan. Then the story of the mud and flood had to be told, while Mr. Gilroy sat on the side-door of the car and directed the Captain which road to take to reach his bungalow. "Did our outfits get here all right, Mr. Gilroy?" asked Ruth. "Yes, and they have been down at your camp several days now," replied their host. "How far is our camp from your bungalow, Mr. Gilroy?" asked Betty. "Not very far--just a nice walk. Your camp is right on the shore of one lake, while my bungalow is on the shore of First Lake, one of the Fulton Chain, you know." The scouts then learned that Mr. Gilroy's estate extended from First Lake, where his bungalow was built, across country to Little Moose Lake where their camp was to be. This was a distance of about three-quarters of a mile between the two places. "We'll stop at the bungalow first and give you a good square meal after all your experiences; then we'll go on over to camp. When your baggage is all out of the cars, Jim and I will drive back to my garage where the machines can stand." "Oh, Jim is going back home with Dad's car, to-morrow," said Ruth. "And Verny is going to keep hers here for the summer," added Julie. The cold luncheon had been waiting a long time, and when the scouts finally arrived they did justice to the viands. Then, every one being eager to see the new camp-site, they started for the Lake. Here everything was in order to receive the tenants. Three fine tents, fully equipped with every possible comfort for the campers, were waiting for the girls, and a smaller tent for the Captain. "Oh, how wonderful! Why, this won't be like roughing it," declared several of the girls as they inspected their camp. "Everything is ready but the fancy touches. You girls will have to add them as your experiences pile up," said Mr. Gilroy. "What do you mean?" asked Julie. "Oh, collections of butterflies, flower-prints, willow-work, and birchbark articles--all these are fancy touches." It was late in the afternoon when the scouts arrived at the bungalow, and it was twilight before they had their baggage all unpacked and in their individual tents. Then when the cars were emptied and it was time to drive them back to the garage, Mr. Gilroy said: "As this is your first night, and everything is strange, you'd better come back to the house for a light supper. Get your beds all ready to turn into, and then let everything else go until morning." Mrs. Vernon approved of this plan, so they finished their tasks and jumped in the cars to drive back to the bungalow for the evening. Darkness crept into the woods and everything was silent as they reached the house. While Jim followed the host to the garage with the cars, the scouts sat on the verandah and enjoyed the quiet of the woods. The stars now began to peep out of the deep blue that could be seen here and there through the trees, and the Captain reminded the girls: "Now that we are here for the summer, you must resume your study of the stars. You dropped that, you know, when schoolwork took so much of your time." "Most of us know all the stars by heart, Verny," said Betty. "The names of them, yes, but how many of you can find them as they are placed in the sky?" returned Mrs. Vernon. "I can show you where the Pole Star is. Look there!" replied Joan, running out on the grass to find the bright point of light. "And I can find Great Bear and The Pointers," added Ruth, joining her friend on the grass. The other scouts now jumped up from the verandah and ran to join the first two, so the Captain followed, also. "I know Alcor, Mizor, and the Square of Pegasus," said Amy. "That panlike group of stars is known as Andromeda," added Julie, not to be outdone by her chums. "And those three little stars are called The Kids. Off to the left of Perseus--oh, I forgot to say that Perseus is a group of stars at the end of the pan-handle,--well, to the left of them are the bright stars known as Capella." "Bravo! you scouts are going to be marvelous astronomers some day," came the approving voice of Mr. Gilroy, as he joined them. "I was just telling the girls they would have to take up the study of the heavens again," mentioned Mrs. Vernon. "And we were showing off to let the Captain hear how much we know," laughed Julie. "Who can find The Lady in the Chair or The Guards?" asked Mr. Gilroy of the scouts. The girls eagerly sought for and described these groups, then their host asked for the Seven Sisters and Demon's Eye. When they had answered these, Ruth said: "If the trees were not so thick I could show you Orion, Taurus, and lots more, like the Lion, the Sickle, Canis Major, etc." "Hoh! Some of those--and the Clown, the Ox-Driver, the Southern Cross, and the Northern Cross--can't be seen at this time of year, Ruth," said Julie. Ruth frowned at the correction, but Mr. Gilroy quickly calmed the troubled waters with praise for the girls. "You scouts certainly know the stars better than the boys of Grey Fox Troop. I should like to have the two Troops have a match game about the stars, some time." "Who are the Grey Fox boys, Mr. Gilroy?" asked Julie. "Do you remember I told you, last summer, of some Boy Scouts who camped in my woods every year? Well, four of those boys are here now. The rest of the Troop are coming up in August, but these four have all summer to camp in. I'm going to introduce you, soon." "Verny, why can't we see all the stars all the year?" now asked Ruth. "Because the earth turns on its axis, you know, so that certain planets are out of sight for us, and are seen on the other side of the globe. Then when the earth turns fully around we see them again." "And the Pole Star is reckoned to be the center of the star-sky for all the others to move about it. The Pole Star is always in the same fixed place, so we can always locate it. But not so with the other stars," added Mr. Gilroy. "I wish some one would tell us a story about the stars," Hester now said. "Who will tell one?" asked Mrs. Vernon. "I know that Mizor and Alcor were used by the Turks in past days as a test for eyesight. Soldiers who could not sight those two stars were disqualified for fighting. But in these times I don't believe a little thing like bad eyes will hold up a Turk from fighting!" said Julie, comically. Then Joan added: "The Pole Star and Ursa Major, or The Great Bear as it is also called, form a shape like a wagon; so in olden times it was called King Charles' Wain. Each star in this constellation is known by a Greek letter. The two stars 'a' and 'b' are called the 'Pointers' because they point to the Pole Star." "Oh, I didn't mean lesson stuff, like this," complained Hester. "I meant a real live legend!" "You tell one, Verny," begged Betty, sweetly. "Mr. Gilroy is better able to do it. Besides he is the host and is supposed to entertain us," returned Mrs. Vernon, glancing at Mr. Gilroy, who was stretched out comfortably upon the short grass. "Your host claims to be completely disabled for the time being, Captain. Pray proceed with the legend yourself," laughed Mr. Gilroy. Then Mrs. Vernon said: "I never could see why Cassiopeia, or The Lady in the Chair, should be named that. To me, the stars look more like a tipped-over letter 'W' than a lady in a chair." "Don't you know the story, Verny?" asked Julie, eagerly. "You do, so why not tell us?" retorted the Captain. "Oh, well, then, all right!" said Julie. So she began: "Once there was an Ethiopian Queen, the wife of Cepheus, who was very proud of their only child, a daughter named Andromeda. They were always praising her and speaking of her beauty to every one, so that after a time folks who also had lovely daughters felt jealous of the princess. "In the depths of the Inner Sea, which is now the Mediterranean, lived Old Nereus and a number of charming daughters. They heard of the Queen's bragging about Andromeda, and they made up their minds to stop it. So they got their father to help them. "Then Nereus and the nymphs sent a flood of water over all the country of which Cepheus was king, and devastated the kingdom. This caused famine and pestilence, and in the wake of these awful plagues came a sea-monster in the form of a dragon. This fearful beast bellowed----" At that moment a deep thrilling call from some creature close by in the forest-edge caused every one to jump, and they all huddled together. They turned and stared apprehensively at the darkness behind them, but Mr. Gilroy instantly whispered, "S-sh! Don't breathe, and you will see a sight worth watching for." The moon now sailed from back of the cloud that had obscured it for a time, and its cold white light etched everything it touched. Again the strange whistling call sounded directly back of the group, and a crashing and tearing of underbrush ended with the sudden spring of a fine buck, that landed him out on the grass not twenty feet from the scouts. At the same moment, a plaintive call came from the direction of Silver Falls, which was up on the mountainside in front of the bungalow. The buck lifted his gigantic antlers in the moonlight, and his sensitive snout sniffed angrily as he sensed the invaders of his range; but another imperative call from his mate at the Falls compelled him to leave these usurpers; so he wheeled gracefully and, with an answering call to let his doe know he was coming, trotted down the trail until he reached the stream that came from Silver Falls, and there he disappeared in the forest. "What a wonderful sight!" breathed Mrs. Vernon, when the buck was gone. The girls listened to the dying echoes of those pounding hoofs, and sighed. Mr. Gilroy sat up and spoke eagerly, "That is the first buck I've ever seen near my bungalow. There are deer in the Adirondacks, but they seldom come near a habitation. It is said that they feed in the barnyards in winter, looking for stray grain, but I am not here in winter, you see." "How I would have loved to have had a snapshot of him," said Julie, sighing. "You've all got it in your memory--the best place to frame a picture for all time," replied Mrs. Vernon. "You know, girls, there is an old hunter's saying, that goes: 'A deer to welcome you on your first night will bring luck to you all that year,'" said Mr. Gilroy, as he turned to lead the way into the bungalow. "Wait, Mr. Gilroy; Julie never finished her story. She broke off just where the beast bellowed--then came the buck!" said Joan. "The deer finished the story better than we ever could," laughed the Captain, as she followed Mr. Gilroy. "But, at least, tell us what happened to those Nerieds?" asked Betty, who wished to see the wicked punished. So Mrs. Vernon had to end the story, although it was condensed in the telling. But Betty persisted, "You haven't told us yet what the Nerieds did when they found the wonderful Prince Perseus saved and married to the Princess." Every one laughed, but Julie replied, "Why, like most jealous people, the Nerieds had to move away from town when every one found out how it all had happened!" The "bite" they had before leaving for camp would have been classed as a first-class supper in the city restaurants, and then, when good-nights were being said, the host gave Jim a laden basket to carry for the scouts. "You'll be glad of this in the morning, for breakfast. If you need anything else, run over here and get it from my man who cooks," explained Mr. Gilroy. But next morning, the contents of that basket were found to be more than enough for any one breakfast. The fruit, cereal, biscuits, and ham to broil, were highly appreciated by the hungry girls. This was soon gone, and then Mrs. Vernon said they must buckle down to genuine camp life. "I'd rather sleep out under the trees, Verny, when the weather is so fine," suggested Julie. "So would we," agreed the other scouts, and the Captain said, "Well, we might make willow beds for out-of-doors, and keep the cots as they are." "How do we know we can find any willows around here?" asked Ruth. "I saw some early this morning when I was snooping about. I got up at dawn and left you girls sleeping, while I investigated the premises. Girls, the place is simply perfect for _anything_ we might choose to do this summer," declared the Captain, enthusiastically. "Tell us where the reeds are, and we will get them," said Betty. "They grow about a spring not far from here. We must follow a wild-animal trail along the lake to reach the spot." So the scouts each took an axe and knife and followed the guide to the willow-brook where the reeds grew. Mrs. Vernon showed the girls how to select the wands, and then began to cut down her own. She took about six dozen reeds as thick as a lead-pencil, and many smaller ones; these were bundled together, and then she was ready to start back to camp. Finally the girls were ready, also, and they trailed back. "Now girls, each one must cut notches about three-fourths of an inch from the butt-ends of the reeds. Then peel the sticks carefully--do not crack or break them while doing it." Mrs. Vernon did hers as she advised. "Now come with me, and select your posts for the beds. I take four young birch saplings for the bed-frame," announced Mrs. Vernon, as she chopped down the required birches, "and stout birches about four inches thick for my bedposts." Each scout cut hers and then went back to the camp-ground to begin work on the Indian beds. "Every one measure the birch saplings and have two of them seven feet long, and two shorter ones three or four feet long," instructed Mrs. Vernon. "Lop off all the twigs, and place the two long ones for sides, and the two short ones for top and bottom of the bed-frame. "Now, this done, watch me carefully, girls. This is the important part of making the bed," advised the Captain. Mrs. Vernon took a ball of heavy twine and doubled a long strand so that it was half-length. This was twisted into one strand, and a loop tied in the middle. Many of these strands were stretched across the frame at equal distances apart, until the entire frame had a warp across it. "Now I'll weave in the reeds," said the Captain, taking one of the thin willows and weaving it in and out of the cords. At the loop, the rod was thrust through it to hold it centrally in place, then the weaving process went on until the end of the frame was reached. The weaving of each reed was done the same way until the whole frame was crossed with willows held firmly in the middle by the loops in the cords. "Next thing, girls, I will cut the posts as I need them. I want them about three feet high. One end of each post must be sharpened so it will go down into the ground." This was done and the four stout birch posts were driven firmly into the ground where Mrs. Vernon wanted her willow bed to stand. "And next, I tie a loop of heavy cord, or rope, about the top of each post, in which I can hang my willow-frame." This was also done, and the scouts helped place the woven mat in position. "Well, isn't that simple, when you know how!" said Julie. "Everything is, my dear," laughed Mrs. Vernon. "Your bed is too wide for me. I don't want one four feet wide," said Ruth. "You can make it as wide, or as narrow, as you like. I think three feet is wide enough for each girl," returned the Captain. "But the best of these beds is, that when one is invited to visit, one can roll up the mat easily and carry it along to sleep on. They are very light and not cumbersome to roll and carry." All that day was given to weaving the beds, and the scouts not only enjoyed the novel employment, but had great fun in joking each other over the work. About four o'clock that afternoon a shrill whistle was heard from the trail that ran to the bungalow and soon thereafter Mr. Gilroy was seen coming down towards camp. "Hullo, there! I waited all morning for visitors, but at last decided to come and see if my tenants had abandoned the premises!" explained he, as he went over to the weavers to watch them. "Now you understand why we couldn't visit," said Joan. "I came over to ask how many of you have been fishing? And what did you catch?" said he. "No, we haven't fished yet. We planned to try it the very moment we are through with these beds," replied Joan. "Then perhaps you have not been near the lake-cove since you went hunting for willows this morning," remarked Mr. Gilroy. "The cove? I saw two boats there early this morning," said the Captain. "And now there are two canoes there, also," added Mr. Gilroy. "Oh, really! But how did you manage to get them there--by paddling in from the lake?" asked Mrs. Vernon. "No, I had them brought from my boathouse this morning. While Jim was here, I made use of him by having him help Hiram carry two canoes over to the boat-wagon, and then drive down here. Not a soul nor a sound was seen or heard about the camp, so I surmised you had all gone on a lark. Then we launched the canoes and tied them to a stump to surprise you when you should go for the boats. We never dreamed you could keep away from temptation so long as this." "Goody! Then the first scout that finishes her bed can go and catch fish for supper," declared Amy, who was the slowest of the weavers. They all laughed teasingly, and soon afterwards, Julie cried, "I'm done! Now for the fish!" Joan and Ruth soon completed their beds, too, so Mr. Gilroy went out with them to fish. That evening he was invited to sup with the scouts, and a jolly time they had. In the evening, while sitting about the dying campfire, he said to the girls: "The first rainy day that comes along I want you all to come to the bungalow and see my collection of moths, flowers, birds, and butterflies. I have a fine exhibit of butterflies, among them are rare specimens that have seldom been found in these mountains. You scouts will want to start collecting after you see what I have done." "I shall be delighted to look at them, as I have always wanted my girls to do something along those lines," said Mrs. Vernon. "If you know anything about butterflies, you will prize the specimen of swallow-tail I found in these woods," said Mr. Gilroy. "Really! But I've heard they were never found in America, Mr. Gilroy," exclaimed Julie. "I know that is a common belief, but I have one, nevertheless, and a friend who devotes his time to studying insect-life assured me that the one I caught was genuine. Then, the very next day this friend caught one quite near the place where mine was taken. This led us to investigate, and we reached the conclusion that there are rare butterflies hatched out in isolated sections of this land, but are not found; so, of course, no mention is made of them. "Even if the farmers see a swallow-tail, or any other rare butterfly hovering over their gardens, they don't know the difference, and it passes safely. If that same farmer knew the value of the specimen he would leave all else to chase the gauzy flutterer." When it came time for the visitor to say good-night, he said, "Oh, I forgot all about the very object of my visit!" "It must have been awfully important," laughed Julie. "Well, _we_ think it is," chuckled Mr. Gilroy. "The boys of Grey Fox Camp sent me to invite you to have dinner with them to-morrow, if it is clear." "Why, Mr. Gilroy!" exclaimed Julie, scarcely believing her idol could forget such an important matter. Every one laughed at his guilty look, and Judith teasingly said, "We ought to call him 'The Man Who Lost His Memory,' for that!" "All fooling aside, scouts, I have a suggestion to make on that very remark. I've wanted to mention it before, but always there was some exciting or important matter that could not be interrupted. Now I wish you girls would stop 'mistering' me! I am such an old friend by this time, I should think I could be to you as much as the Captain is. She is 'Verny' instead of 'Mrs. Vernon.'" Julie was ready with an answer before he had quite finished his complaint. "Oh, we would love to give you a pet name, Gilly, because you do mean as much to us as our best friends anywhere. By taking a few letters away from your proper name and adding a little 'nick' to the syllable, we have one ready-made." "Fine! 'Gilly' it shall be henceforth!" laughed Mr. Gilroy. "But it is so disrespectful, I think," remonstrated Mrs. Vernon. "Couldn't we find some other affectionate term that will do without impressing strangers with our lack of courtesy to our friend?" "Why do you object to 'Gilly?'" asked Mr. Gilroy, quizzically. "I can't really find any tangible excuse, except that it makes me think of gilly-flowers, you know," laughed Mrs. Vernon. Every one joined in the laughter, but Mr. Gilroy said seriously, "Well, I am not old enough to be 'Granny' to the girls and I dare not request to be called 'Daddy' by them, or their rightful parents will call me out to fight a duel, so do let us leave it 'Gilly.' The boys of Grey Fox always wanted to use a friendlier name than a 'Mr.' but they never came to it. Now we will begin the habit." Before Mr. Gilroy left the camp, the name was established. They were to meet at Mr. Gilroy's bungalow early in the morning, so he could start them on the right trail. He was going over in the car with supplies for the boys, but the hikers preferred the novelty of adventuring on foot. Early the following morning, breakfast being cleared away, each scout was advised to take an axe, a clasp-knife, a bit of twine, a tin cup, and some waterproof matches. "But why should we bother with such stuff?" asked Amy. "One never knows whether one will arrive at the right destination or not. Should we get lost, we at least have something with which to get a meal," said the Captain. "Are you going to carry that little bag of flour?" asked Hester, curiously. "Yes, and a strip of bacon that is wrapped in the paper. I'm not going to starve, if worst comes to worst," laughed Mrs. Vernon. "A lot of good a strip of bacon will do for ten of us!" said Judith. But she had not been with the scouts when they camped at Verny's Mountain the foregoing summer. When Mr. Gilroy heard about the bacon and flour, he laughed. "Why, it is only two or three hours' tramp over the ridge, and a big dinner will be waiting when you get there." Mrs. Vernon held her peace, but carried the bacon and flour just the same. She was not to be jeered out of what she knew to be a wise act, whether the food would be needed or not. CHAPTER FOUR A VISIT TO GREY FOX CAMP Each girl wore hiking boots, her camp uniform, and carried a light pack containing the ax, cup, knife and matches. A few of the girls, secretly following the Captain's example, packed a strip of bacon and crackers, or other eatables in their packs. Mr. Gilroy saw them safely started on the right trail, and then drove away in his car. He followed a woodcutters' road that wound around the mountain, but the scouts were to use the trail that ran over the crest to the boys' camp. The scouts were brimming over with spirits (Julie said, "not the kind made in the moonshine, either"), and spent so much time examining flowers or watching wonderful birds that the time sped by unawares. The trail led through small clearings where a brook or waterfall made life worth living. But the higher they climbed the more rugged grew the trail, until there were long stretches that seemed to be sheer wilderness. At such places, the scouts had to hunt about and find a blaze to guide them further. In this way, the hours passed and noon came; still the hikers were far from Grey Fox Camp. "And I'm starved to pieces!" Joan assured them all. "So'm I!" admitted Ruth. Then it was learned that every one present would appreciate something to eat. "But what? We only brought flour and bacon," laughed Amy. "How would a fine juicy steak taste about this time?" asked Mrs. Vernon, winking at her old scouts. They knew what she meant. "Oh, 'Home and Mother'!" sighed Judith, rolling her eyes heavenward. Every one laughed, but the Captain added: "I really mean it! We may as well stop now to cook that steak as to keep on in a half-fainting condition." "But, Verny! We didn't bring one bit of meat to camp, and the butcher drives his rounds once a week," cried Amy. "We'll just hunt around and chop down a steak," suggested Mrs. Vernon. "Who wants to go with me to find the wooden animal that grows a steak ready-made?" Of course, they all went, except Julie and Joan who remained to build a fire and start the bacon sizzling in the tiny pan. A scout-twist of flour and water was kneaded by Joan and put to bake near the fire, and then the girls sat and waited for the others to return. The Captain blazed a way slowly into the forest wilderness, peering under bushes and wherever a tree had been cut down--on its stump of a trunk she always looked eagerly. After about ten minutes' search she saw what she wanted. "Ah! Here it is--a porterhouse, this time." The new members saw a great chestnut stump, its jagged spears of wood protesting against its untimely end. But all over the trunk grew fungi--some larger, some smaller, and all of the same flat horizontal shape, like a huge palm-leaf. These were carefully removed and handed to the girls to carry. "What are they for?" asked Judith, looking at the red juice that ran over her fingers when she took the fungus. "That's your steak--think it is too big for one?" "The what?" exclaimed the other new members, skeptically. "Beefsteak mushroom--finest steaks ever tasted," came reassuringly from the Captain. "The ones growing on a chestnut stump are always the sweetest, but the chestnut trees are disappearing so fast that soon we will have no such mushrooms from them." When they had gathered enough steaks for that meal, they returned to the clearing where Julie and Joan awaited them. On the way back, Mrs. Vernon showed the scouts the earmarks of the beefsteak mushroom. "When I cut these from the tree they bled exactly as flesh will bleed when it is cut. Now turn them over and you will see on the under side that they have veins of red. That is the life-sap. We will broil or cook them exactly as if they were steaks and then you shall judge of their flavor." "Isn't it thrilling to think that man can go right into any wilderness and, without carrying food, clothing, or shelter, live with what Nature provides," remarked Judith. "Yes, and without paying the outrageous prices charged at the present time for actual necessities," replied the Captain. The bread-twist was baked, and when the steaks were washed and sliced, Mrs. Vernon dropped them into the hot fat tried out from the bacon. Immediately the smell of frying steak made every scout smack her lips in anticipation. "If we weren't sure of such a fine dinner awaiting us, I would have had a few of you girls gather young bracken for a fresh green vegetable to eat with our steak. But we must not stop and enjoy too much by the wayside," said the Captain. There was a liberal slice of steak for each one and the girls pronounced the taste of it delicious. "And so tender, too! I never had such a juicy bit of meat," said Hester. Having refreshed themselves considerably, with the fun of finding the mushrooms and cooking them, to say nothing of eating them, also, the scouts continued the hike along the trail. Just as they reached the crest of the mountain, Julie came suddenly upon a fawn, standing in the shadow of a tree; it was watching these queer two-legged creatures. It is hard to say which was most surprised, Julie or the deer, but the fawn recovered first and bounded away through the forest. "Oh, shucks! There we've gone and left that camera home again!" cried Julie, stamping her foot angrily. "Wouldn't that have made the most wonderful picture!" added Judith. "No use crying now, but, for goodness sake! Julie, remember to bring it next time," said Joan. "Let _every one_ remember--the last thing to do when we start anywhere, every one is to say to herself: 'Remember the _Maine_!' then we will surely take the camera," giggled Julie. The scouts now began descending the other side of the crest, and found a better trail than on the side they came up. So, being able to go faster, they soon reached a lovely camp-site, where the voices of several boys announced that Grey Fox Camp was reached. "We were just being sworn in as deputies to go out and hunt for strayed or stolen scouts," called Mr. Gilroy, jocularly, as the girls picked their way down from the great rocks that formed a wall back of the camp-ground; then he introduced the two Troops to each other. "You told us it was about a two-hours' hike!" said Ruth, shaking her head at Mr. Gilroy, as if in despair of saving his soul. "Well, so it is, when the boys are in a hurry to get to the bungalow." "We've been five hours coming, and had to stop for lunch along the way, too," said Judith, eager to talk about the beefsteak. The boys stared. "Why, you were to have dinner with us! Didn't Mr. Gilroy tell you that?" "Yes, but we couldn't wait so long. We're ready for more dinner, now," said Joan. "What did you cook for luncheon?" asked Alec, the oldest boy in the Troop. "Oh, only a beefsteak-mushroom and a scout-twist," returned Julie, nonchalantly. The boys exchanged glances. "Did you find the mushrooms along the way?" asked another boy named Bob. "Sure! Did you think they came preserved?" laughed Joan. "No, but _we_ have never found any on this side of the hill. Bob often goes out to hunt, but so far we've never seen any," explained another boy, Ned Thompson. "When we go back, you can go with us a ways, and we will show you where we found the ones we had for luncheon," said Betty. "Is dinner ready, boys, or will there be time to show the girls about the camp?" asked Mr. Gilroy. "Show them about, as it will take us ten minutes more to finish everything in style," replied Alec. So the girl scouts were invited to pass judgment on the fine camp the boy scouts had made. Everything was neat as wax, and the boys had constructed many convenient articles from wildwood material only. "Last year we had eight boys in camp, but this season only four could come in the beginning; so they have lots of room in their big tee pee. When the other boys come out, they will have to make another tent. They made and water-proofed this one themselves," explained Mr. Gilroy, showing the visitors the fine big tent. "They built this dining-room, too, to use if the weather is very bad. I told the boys about your corduroy floor that you made in your huts last summer, so they tried it here with very good result." The girl scouts now saw their own idea put into use in a different manner. The log floor was hard and dry, but at each corner rose a stout pole, and upon the tops of the four pole ends was stretched a canvas roof, making a shelter underneath. "Girls, we ought to do the same thing, to use for meal time when it rains, or if the rays of the sun are too hot," observed Mrs. Vernon. Mr. Gilroy then pointed out to the girls how careful the boys had been in selecting this camp-site. They had high, dry ground, near plenty of fine spring water, on the same lake where the girl scouts camped, but an arm of high land extended out into the water and separated the two camps. "You see, they have ample firewood about without cutting down any trees; they get the early morning sun, and shade all the rest of the day. They ditched the entire place to carry off all the rainwater that might wash down from the crest during a heavy storm. And they built a refrigerator to keep things cold; and over there they have a chicken-coop." "A chicken coop! where did they get the chickens?" asked Julie. "Ned had some at home and he crated them and brought them along. The boys get fresh eggs in this way, and when the season is over, they will kill the hens for a special occasion and eat them." "Verny, that's what we need, a few chickens in camp," was Joan's decision, the moment she saw the hens scratching. "I noticed Gilly had a lot of chickens running about the barnyard. Maybe he will loan us a few, just to provide us with eggs this summer. We can return them in the fall, you know," ventured Julie, daringly. "Who will buy their corn?" asked he, laughingly. "No one. We will feed them scraps and they can scratch!" promptly replied Julie. "You'll starve them and then they won't lay any eggs," now said Alec, joining the party. "We'll smile on Hiram and get him to bring us some corn from the barn, now and then," said Ruth. "I came over to tell you dinner was ready to serve. We had better go now, and eat it while it's good," said Alec. The boys had various things hanging over the fire, but the great novelty that caught the girl scouts' attention, at once, was the roaster upon which a nice brown chicken was swinging before the fire. "There! That's a fine idea. How did you make it?" asked Mrs. Vernon, looking closely at the contraption. Alec described to the Captain the method of making the roaster. "We took a forked stick, as you see there, of about a two-foot length. We drove that down into the ground about six inches. Next we took a long pole, six or eight feet long, and drove the end down into the ground just back of the short stick with the forks. It rested in the crotch made by the forks so that its tapering end slanted upward at an angle, as you see here. "From the end of this long pole we hung the cord that holds the chicken. Wire is just as good to use. Then we arranged that flat, paddle-like fan halfway between the top and the rope end where the roast will hang. As your chicken roasts before the fire, that mill-fan keeps it perpetually turning about so it browns alike all over." Julie wanted to make one like it as soon as they went back to their own camp, so she hastily sketched a model. "It is a great stunt, all right, and we've cooked many dandy roasts this way, and never scorched any," said Bob, when Alec concluded his description. The dinner began with oyster-mushroom stew, then they had roast chicken, baked wild-potatoes, stewed bracken that tasted exactly like young spinach, dandelion salad, and scout cakes for dessert. It was mid-afternoon when the girls finally said good-by to their hosts, and invited them soon to visit Dandelion Camp. They started on the return hike, but when they reached the highest boulder back of the camp, the scouts stood and waved good-by again. "Come as soon as you can, but give us a whole day's warning, first!" shouted Julie, to the four smiling boys below. They made much better time going back, as the trail from Grey Fox Camp was plain, and going down the other side of the crest was much simpler than climbing up. They got back to their own camp by seven o'clock, and were surprised to find Mr. Gilroy there before them, with supper all ready to eat. "Well, this sure is good of you!" sighed Julie, dropping upon the grass with healthy fatigue. "I thought you'd appreciate it; I had no exercise to-day, except what I got running the car, so I decided to 'do a good turn' and digest that dinner at the same time," said he. After supper, which was unusually late that night, the tired scouts and their visitor were sitting about the campfire hoping some one would tell a story, when Julie spoke: "Last summer, Gilly said he would tell us all sorts of Indian legends when we visited camp in the Adirondacks. Now we're here and this is the right sort of an evening to tell them." The other scouts seconded the suggestion, but Mr. Gilroy said: "Funny, but I don't remember that promise." "I told you you've got an awful memory--didn't I want to dub you 'The man-with-a-poor-memory?'" teased Judith. The guest sat gazing silently into the fire for a few minutes, then he began: "I'm going to tell you a story that is told by the Alaskan Indians. These ancient legends have been handed down from one generation to another, but the original goes back before the days of Moses. I was deeply interested in a few of these tales because they sounded so much like our story of Creation as told in Genesis, that I wondered if a white missionary had sown his seeds of Christianity in the fertile soil of the Alaskan Esquimaux' mind. "But as far as I could ascertain this legend was told many hundreds of years before white man ever stepped on Alaskan ground. Recently I learned that Iceland has similar legends, and it may be that the Alaskan Esquimaux are descended from those of Iceland. It is well known that Iceland is the oldest civilized land in the world--that it was famous for its learning before the days of Solomon the Wise." CHAPTER FIVE A STORY OF CREATION* A Legend of Raven *This legend, given in various ways by different tribes of the Icelandic and Alaskan Indians, each with its own variations, but all with one thread of similarity woven through the tales--was partly interpreted and grouped by the author into the legend that appears in this book. It is said to date back thousands of years before Abraham and our Bible. Acknowledgments for original texts and tales are due the Smithsonian Institute. "No one knows just how Raven first came to be, and we have many different beginnings to start from, but in Sitka we know that Raven never had beginning nor will he have an ending. "Raven was always the All-in-all, and, as he knew all things and made all, he began to wish to have a form of his wisdom that, too, would live on with him forever. So it was that he made him a son to help in the creation. And the son's name, also, was Raven. And now it is of Raven, Son of Raven, that we speak. "Raven was instructed in every form of knowledge and he was trained in every wise thing, so that when he grew up he would have everything necessary to make a glorious world, where all beautiful wishes and every good idea would be objectified, and would remain forever a praise and prayer to Raven, the Father Creator. "So Raven made the world, but he found there was no light with which to show the beauty and form of what he had created. Then, after deep thinking, he remembered his father to have said that there was a large lodge far up the Nass where One kept all the Light that ever could be found. "Raven tried many ways in which to reach this house on the Nass, but the way was unknown to every one, so he wandered afar, seeking for the true trail. One day he helped an old lame man along the path and, for gratitude, the old man said: 'You seek the One of Nass who keeps the Light?' "Raven replied, 'Yea, for many days have I sought Him.' "Then the lame old man smiled a strange smile, and said, 'I know of but one way to bring this great Light into the world you made, and that way is to send forth that Light through the daughter of the One with the Light.' "'But, Brother, how do I know there is such a daughter? And if there be, how shall I receive the Light through her?' "'O Raven, thou art a great creator! Thy father is All-in-all of the North, and the daughter of Light will joyously send forth this Light you need to show the beauties of your world,' said the old wayfarer. "'Then tell me this, O Brother, for I seem not to know how to reach the Virgin of the Light, despite all the wisdom I have been taught,' anxiously begged Raven. "'Then hark to my words, O Son of Raven: I will turn you into a small drop of water, and fly with you over the House of Light. As I pass the pool whence comes the water for drink, I will drop you into a glass the Virgin holds ready to quaff. Then you will know what to do.' "Raven showed his surprise, for he had believed the old man to be lame and helpless, and now he found he was a Wise Man who could find his way wheresoever he would go. "Then the old man, with the wonderful drop of water held carefully in his palm, flew over the House of Light, and passed low down over the pool where the Virgin stood ready to drink. "As she raised the cup to her lips, the drop of pure water which had been Raven, fell into the liquid, and she drank all that the vessel held. "Now this drop of clear water grew and became a man-child, and the Virgin knew she was to bring forth the Light unto the World, that all might enjoy the beauties of creation. So she was happy and praised Raven and the Father of Raven, day and night, for having given himself to become a little drop of water that the Light might be born. "When the time came for the Light to be revealed, the Virgin prepared a royal bed of furs of great value for the Man of Light to be born on. But the babe struggled and refused to be born in a state of riches, and he whispered to the Virgin: 'The world of joy and riches needs me not, but the world of sorrow and darkness needs me. I will shed this Light on such as are heavyladen and weary.' So the Virgin knew the Light must be born in meekness and humility, that all brothers could find Raven without pomp or pay. "So the birthplace was lined with common Iceland moss, and the child of Light was born thereon. The moss-bed was made up in a room that had been used for the humblest things in the Great House of Light: that is, for the storing of queer bundles, some large, some small, and all of various shapes and colors. And when the babe looked around at the walls of his birthplace, his eyes shone like stars and a heavenly smile beamed from his face, for _he_ knew what those bundles contained! "As the child waxed strong and beautiful, the mother saw that it yearned for something she had not hitherto given him, so a servant was ordered to seek everywhere and find what it was the babe craved. "Finally, the attendant moved a bundle that hung at the farthest end of the room. And as he did so, the child laughed and his eyes shone brightly. "'Bring that bundle here--it is what the Babe wanted!' declared the mother. So the unwieldy bundle was placed upon the bed. "The mother carefully removed a wrapper, but found still others to undo. Finally all the wrappers were taken away and but one remained. This was of a wonderful shimmering material such as no one had ever beheld before. The mother reverently opened this cover, and lo! there lay revealed all the Stars of Heaven! "The Child gurgled with joy, and took the corner of the shimmering cover and drew it, with the contents, over to himself. He looked upwards, and with a wonderful expression in his sweet face, suddenly flung the bright cover and all the Stars it held, up through the smoke-hole of the lodge. "With a happy, joyous laugh, he watched the Stars scatter far and wide to rest finally in the Firmament, and there they shine to this very day! "The Virgin Mother then knew that this child truly was Raven, the Son of Raven, and she commanded every one to bow down in worship, for he had been given the power to bring Light to the world of darkness, and no more would darkness cover the people. "Soon after the Stars were fixed in the Firmament of Heaven, the child again yearned and seemed to pine for something. But now the mother knew what had to be done, so she commanded an attendant to take down the bundle that hung in the corner whence the Stars came. "This bundle was brought over to the mother, but it was smaller than the first bundle that had held all the Stars. The Mother carefully undid the many wrappings of this bundle, and found the last covering was made of a filmy frosty texture which had no opening or end that might be unrolled. "But the child held out his hands eagerly for the bundle, and the moment it had been given him, he found the secret opening and then unrolled the cover. When the last frosty bit of gauzy cloud fell away from the contents so carefully preserved, every one exclaimed in wonder at the beauty they beheld. There was a big Moon, cool and shining, then as now! "The child clapped his hands with delight, and wafted the Moon with its frosty gauze covering up through the smoke-hole of the room and it became fixed as the Stars, to give light through the hours of darkness, that the earth need not stumble and fall upon a black pathway. "The third bundle was great and difficult to reach, but the child cried for it and the servants had to work and struggle to reach it, until finally, down it came. And as it fell, it sent forth sparks of strange fire that consumed not a thing, yet prevented any servant from handling the bundle. "The child laughed and clapped his hands, but finding no one could hold the flaming bundle, he crept over and took it. The mother stood affrighted lest the Child of Light be consumed. But he unwrapped each covering himself, and when the last dazzling wrapper was revealed, no human being durst gaze upon that Light. But he who was born of Light looked upon what was hidden in that covering and flung all up through the smoke-hole to take its place in the Firmament of Heaven, where it shines like unto a Sun--to-day, as in those days. And it was given the world to shed its rays of Light upon the earth by day, even as the Moon shines for Light by night, and the Stars sing for joy and gladness that Light came to the world. "After the Sun, and Moon, and Stars were made, this man-child did many wonderful things that astonished all who came to the House of Light to hear and see such a marvelous being. But there was still one bundle left hanging in a very gloomy corner of the birth-chamber, and this bundle was left until the child grew to the stature of a man. Then he demanded that it be given him. "'No, no, my son,' wept the mother, 'do not ask for that--it contains Death.' "'Know then that _I_ know it,' returned the young man, seriously. 'Knowest thou not why I came to be born of the Light? Not only that the world might have eternal Light, but also to dispel all darkness that Eternal Life might come through the overcoming of this Death. "'The Light I had, and the Light I gave, but through forever closing the gates of Death to the world I forever fix this Light of Life in the Heavens that no one can darken it more.' "The mother wept for she knew her son must die if he took down that bundle, but he replied: 'For this great mission was I sent to you that, through you, should be given birth to Light, and thus establish for all time the Light for the world.' "Sorrowing, the mother herself took down the bundle and brought it to her son, and no servant might remain in the room when Raven, Son of Raven, removed the coverings of Death. As the last wrapper was removed and the mother saw the heavy shroud that folded itself clingingly about the ghastly contents of that bundle, she ran weeping from the room, for she dared not watch her son accept it. "So the birth-room remained closed while Raven fought with Death, but after three shinings of the Sun, and three shinings of the Moon, and with the shining of the Stars as they sang softly, a blinding Light shone through all the walls of the House of Light, and the mother with her attendants ran to open the door of the birth-chamber, now called the Room of Death. But behold! the man Raven himself was revealed in shining raiments, shining like the Sun, and he smiled upon those who fell down in awe at sight of him. "'I have destroyed Death for all, and now I go to shine in the Heavens with this Light of Life that was given me. All who will may follow where I go,' said Raven. "'And at that, he rose through the smoke-hole and took his place in Heaven, but his Light shone then and shines now into every corner of darkness in the world. And the day is come when there is no more darkness, for rich and poor, good and bad, and every created thing made by Raven, see the Light that transforms everything into lights that find their places in the Firmament of Heaven.' "Raven, Son of Raven, sat hidden in the Great Light that he received when Death was overcome, but he saw that the earth was without form. Then he desired to create seas and mountains upon the face of the void, and he sat thinking and thinking for many a time. "Suddenly he remembered that in the House of Light there was a wonderful pool of clear water. So he sent a ray from the Sun down through the clouds and thereby drew up enough water to drink. But he did not swallow the cooling water. He held it in his mouth and flew with it over the whole earth which was void of form. "He spat forth a drop of this water and it became the source of the River Nass. Another drop from his mouth became the Stikine River, and the third drop became the Taku River. Then followed the Chilkat, the Alsek, and finally, all the great rivers of the North. "But Raven found he would need more water for seas and oceans and lakes, so he sat again, and by thinking and thinking he received the idea. "It was not according to his wish to send a sunbeam to the pool of eternal water in the House of Light, to bring up more of that pure water to him, and he was happy when he conceived the idea that came to him. And this it was: "'If the rivers I made, run on eternally because their source came from the House of Light, why shall I not guide them all to one great meeting-place and call that the Ocean? But as they run to this one rest, even so will I give them smaller rests along the way, and at these resting-places they may spread out upon the bosom of the earth. These rests will I call Lakes. Then there will come times when the Ocean, which is continually filled from the eternal source of the Rivers, must needs overflow its boundaries. And these overflows will fill up the great holes in the earth. So these I will call Seas. "'Even as the Sun sent his ray to carry me the drink from the pool that is in the House of Light, so will I command the Sun and the Moon and the Stars to govern the waters of the earth, and thus the Lights in the Firmament of the Heavens will draw up any surplus overflows, that these may turn to moisture in the cloudy coverings that wrapped the Lights before they became fixed in the Firmament. The Clouds will rain down refreshing drink upon all lands on the earth, that all things may replenish themselves and so live eternally, in one grand bond of Brotherhood, loving and helping each other, from the Great to the Small, and from Small to Great.' "And it was as Raven desired. So to this day, the Sun and Moon and all the Stars work together in harmony to keep the Rivers and Lakes, and Seas, and Ocean within their bounds and to replenish all things. "But Raven found afterwhile that so much water flowing ceaselessly from the Source, and the rain that fell from the Clouds upon the land, made the earth so wet that it was not a good place to dwell upon. Then he began to think and think again, of how he might create something to dry up the surplus moisture. "Now he was walking by a great ocean, one day, still thinking of plans to dry away any unpleasant dampness, when he saw a Petrel sitting on a rocky promontory. "'Brother,' called Raven to the bird, 'how came you here?' "'I? Oh, I was born when the waters were sent to earth. How came you here--and where were you born?' asked the Petrel. "'I? Oh, I was born before the world was thought of, so I have no beginning and no end,' replied Raven. "'Ha! Tis well said, but rings not true,' the Petrel jeered. 'No one ever was before this world was created, and no one ever shall remain when this world ends.' "'I am Raven, Son of Raven, and because you know not the Truth of Creation, but believe the Lie, you shall henceforth go about in a fog. Your name shall be earth-made, and you shall dream dreams in this fog, but you may not see the Light until that day when the whole world shall be freed from all forms of darkness!' "And instantly, a fog-cover fell over Petrel, because he knew not the Truth told by Raven, Son of Raven. And the fog so hid from the eyes of Petrel the Sun and Moon and Stars that came from the House of Light, that he believed _them_ to be controlled by a Lie, also. "But Raven learned that the fog he had called forth from the waters on the earth made the place still more moist and not good for a place of sojourn. Then he planned to dry it away quickly. "Petrel, the earth-bound, was left groping in the fog for the Truth he had scorned and now could not find, and Raven passed to a place where he saw something floating on the wave not far from shore. He failed to recognize it as of his creating, so he wished to reach it. "While looking about for something to use to reach it, he saw a bird with a very long bill, watching him. This bird was not like anything he had created so he knew it must be an offspring of the fog, mist-made, and related to Petrel. "Raven then commanded this bird, 'Fly out over the water and bring back yon floating object.' "The bird with a long bill was a chicken-hawk, and it lived by killing weaker and smaller birds than itself. Raven knew this was its way the moment he saw it was mist-made, and so he sent it on this errand. "The chicken-hawk dared not refuse to go after the bright object floating on the wave, but he said to himself, 'I'll drop it if it is not good for me to carry!' "Raven knew this evil intent, and said, 'When you have taken hold of the object, do not drop it till you have brought it ashore.' "So the chicken-hawk left in no good humor, and flew out to the wave, where he found a mass of fire floating there. He was a coward, such as all mist-made creatures are, and he feared to bring in the great ball of fire, yet he dared not disobey the command of a superior being like Raven. So he tore off a mouthful only, and that is how he came to be so badly burned. Had he caught hold of the whole mass of flame, the outside of which really had been cooled as it rolled about upon the waves, he could have escaped without an injury. "He brought the piece of fire to shore, and Raven said, 'Because you were cowardly and obeyed me only through fear, your beak shall remain forever burned off and short as it now is.' "And so it is to this day, and shall be until Light redeems all things. "Raven then took some chips of red cedar and some white stones, and mixed them in the fire. These were distributed over all the earth, so that many great forests grew up from the cedar shavings, and thus absorbed the surplus moisture on the land. And mighty volcanoes were formed of the red-hot stones, and these, in consuming the water under the surface, steamed and spewed forth the massive rocks and varied-hued stones that gave peaks and cliffs as pleasant places for deer and sheep to roam upon. "Thus, with the face of the earth so beauteous, Raven sat down and rejoiced. But Petrel and Chicken-hawk were left to wander in the fog. "Finally, Raven's mother died, and he sorrowed greatly, for she saw not the Great Light that he had established to overcome the darkness of Death. Still, because she had always dwelt in the House of Light and had given birth to Raven, Son of Raven, she was given an honorable place in the Firmament of Heaven. "And Raven, as the custom was in the realm where his mother had lived, prepared a great feast in honor of his mother. But he began thinking how he might honor her in a different way. So he cut a witch-hazel wand with which to point at anything he wished to use in the preparation of this feast. Thus he collected wood and stones and many things on the face of the earth. And when all this was assembled he built him a great house. "Then he called the rain and sunshine to hide the house until he was ready for the feast. He then sat down to think and think, and this is what he thought, and what came of it. "'I want fish to swim in the waters, and birds to fly in the skies, and creatures to live in the forests, and beings to live on the land, to be found in this house when it is opened. And they will all be perfect, lovely, and good, to live with this creation I have made.' "Thus, having thought all these things, Raven stood up and stretched out his hand that held the wand, and pointed it over the house that was hidden as yet by rain and clouds. "And, suddenly, the rain ceased its downpour, the sun smiled, and the house stood revealed in all its beauty. Then Raven sang: "'This made I for an honor to my mother!' "And as he sang his song of honor and praise, the house opened and all manner of living creatures came forth--beautiful, perfect, and an honor to the earth upon which they would dwell. "So it is that even to this day, when one makes a feast to honor a dead person who will sit in a place in the firmament, the house of the living is opened to all, from the greatest to the least of the earth. "When the feast was over Raven wished to leave an eternal monument to his mother, the Virgin who gave birth to the Light, so he called to him the four winds to help. "'South Wind, in the spring and summer when all the sun's rays are warm, blow gently upon the earth and sing of my mother.' "'North Wind, sit on top of the ice-mountain yonder, and when the earth is chill and sorrowing for my mother, blow fiercely from your snow-laden hills and sing over her grave.' "'East Wind, when the earth-people weep salt-water over the biers of their dead, and sigh because of their loss, sing to them of my mother.' "'West Wind, when you blow gently, and tell the earth that storms and cold and sorrow may come but Light shines in the end to bring them joy and peace, sing low and sweetly of my mother.' "Thus the four winds came to earth to sing to the peoples dwelling here, and every one heard of the mother who gave birth to Light--Raven, Son of Raven. "But after all these things were done, Raven sat down and thought and thought deeply, and as he thought he called upon his father, the Great Raven, the All-in-all, for advice. "And having received advice, Raven stood up and lifted his hands to the Heavens, and sang with a loud voice: "'I shall make men in my image and likeness, and they shall dwell in the Light and be given dominion over all this earth I have made for my joy and pleasure. Thus we shall be happy and live forever!' "So Raven made all men like unto himself. They were good and perfect and beautiful and they all dwelt in love in the Light. And thus they dwelt many, many days, and were happy. "But the fog which had been called out for Petrel's error harbored many birds of evil omen, and these, guided by Petrel, swept through the fog and attacked the Men of the Light. The fog covered all things and caused every one to grope about, seeking to find one another and escape from the mist that hid the Shining Light. "And thus any one who had the slightest degree of fear or greed or malice or lying in his heart, breathed in the fog and thenceforth lived in a dream. They were thenceforth born of the fire of wrath that the Chicken-hawk tore apart from the floating mass, and were consumed with fear. They lived their days in the fog that came upon Petrel when he believed a lie, and they suffered and sorrowed and died, all in a dream caused by the fog; and afterwhile these mist-men forgot there ever had been a perfect earth created by Raven, Son of Raven, where love and beauty and joy rule everything. "So Petrel ruled his world of fog, where hate and sin and death were his servants, and thus it happened that a Petrel is the sign of storm and trouble and blinding mist, but the Raven is known to be wise and patient for it knows where its Light dwells. "So Raven sits, and patiently waits for Petrel's dreams to lose themselves in the fog, for such will surely come about. And as the Lights ruled by Raven shine stronger, the fog grows fainter and still lighter, until breaks the Day when all mist vanishes and Raven's Creation is seen forever beautiful and perfect." When Mr. Gilroy concluded his beautiful legend, the scouts were silent. It was the greatest praise they could bestow at the moment, for the story was not one to call forth applause and noise. Then they began to speak, but in soft voices. "And to think that this story of creation, so similar in many ways to our Bible Stories, was handed down from ancient days," remarked Mrs. Vernon, thrilled by the realization. "I find many interesting similarities between our Bible and the Holy Legends reverently told by the Esquimaux. But this one always struck me as being as fine as any. That is why I told it," explained Mr. Gilroy. Then their Camp Entertainer, as Julie now named Mr. Gilroy, bid them all good-night and went up the trail. And the scouts were soon in bed, their last waking thoughts being of Raven, Son of Raven, the All-in-all of Creation. CHAPTER SIX LOST ON THE TRAIL A few days after the girl scouts' visit to Grey Fox Camp, they were agreeably surprised by having the boys visit them. Mr. Gilroy was with them, and as each boy carried an ax and a woodman's knife, the girls knew they came to work. "We decided to cut a shorter trail over the crest, and as to-day is so cool, we thought it would be a fine time for work," explained Alec, the leader in the boys' camp. "One day's as good as another! We're ready to help any time," replied Julie, as leader of the Girl Scouts' Troop. "Why didn't you let us know, then we might have blazed the trail up our side of the mountain, and you boys would have worked from your side. When we met on top, we might have celebrated with a feast," ventured Mrs. Vernon. So the girls ran for axes and knives, and all began work together, back of Dandelion Camp. They cut and chopped, and blazed a fine trail up past Silver Falls, where the doe had called to her mate the first night the girls were at Camp, and so on to the top of the mountain. But it took the greater part of that morning to go as far as they did. "We'd better stop here, and go back to see how the trail seems," suggested Mr. Gilroy. "Why not finish the job, now that we're on top?" asked Alec. "Because you boys can easily blaze from here on to your camp, and I am beginning to worry lest my dinner is burning," laughed Mr. Gilroy. "_Your_ dinner! Where's the Indian cook?" asked Alec. "He's cooking for fifteen! I have invited guests coming to dine at the bungalow this evening," returned Mr. Gilroy, meaningly. "Oh, hurrah! Isn't that fine? Now we won't have to wash any supper-dishes!" exclaimed Ruth, who still disliked doing dishes. The girls laughed, for they understood, but Alec said, "Why talk about a supper so distant! I'd rather plan about something to eat this minute." "So would we all. I guess we are nearly starved," said Ned. "Why not stop work and cook a few steaks?" suggested Bob. "You boys have done all the talking about something to eat, but the girls said nothing. Maybe they are not hungry!" ventured Mr. Gilroy. "Hungry! We're too _weak_ to speak," sighed Julie, rubbing the spot under her belt. "I can eat reindeer moss without its being cooked," said Amy. "That settles it! Cook we must, but what?" declared Joan. "Well, some of us will hunt up the mushrooms; some must gather bracken, some, the lichen; and Gilly can hunt up the coffee beans, _alias_ roots and acorns," said Alec. "What will _you_ be doing, meantime?" retorted Mr. Gilroy. "Oh, I'll just remove that package of flour from your pocket and use this strip of bacon that I lifted from Dandelion larder; and when the steaks come back, I'll have bread and fat ready over a fine fire." "Bacon! When did you manage to steal that?" demanded the Captain, amazed. The boys laughed, for Alec's clever sleight-of-hand was an endless source of fun for them. "Don't all hunt together. Divide your strength and see that results come back with you," advised Alec, rolling up his sleeves preparatory to starting his fire. "I can't fish like the other boys, so I'll go with the girls who are going for the beefsteaks," said Dick. "All right. And where will you go, Captain?" asked Alec. "If Gilly is sent for coffee, I shall hunt for tea. I do not care for his brand of coffee, but I _do_ know where to find the ingredients for a nice fragrant cup of tea." A laugh circled the group, and Mr. Gilroy said, "All right. Now see to it that you don't ask for a drop of my coffee, hereafter." So they separated, some of the scouts going with Mrs. Vernon; Bob and Ned going for trout; Hester and Amy with Mr. Gilroy; and Julie, Joan and Judith with Dick, for mushrooms. After breaking a way through a dense jungle, the latter four scouts came out to a small clearing, but they had not seen any mushrooms. "What a fine baseball diamond this clearing would make!" said Julie, as they looked around. "And there are some chestnut stumps--on the far side of the clearing!" exclaimed Dick, crossing to the spot. But they found no mushrooms on the stumps, much to their chagrin. "There'll be other trees about here, where we're sure to find what we need," said Dick, eagerly. So into the woods they plunged, winding about here and there, but not finding what they sought. None of them thought to blaze a trail as they wandered, consequently had no means of telling how far or in what direction they had gone before Dick found a few small mushrooms. "Only enough for a few of us. We need more than these," he remarked. "There's sure to be more where these are. Let's keep on hunting," urged Julie. So they kept on winding through the underbrush, but with no good results. Finally Dick found a plant that he believed to be a wild potato. "No, it is not. It hasn't the leaves or blossom of the Indian potato," declared Joan. "That may be, but when it grows old it dries up, you know," argued Dick, beginning to dig at the root. The girls wandered about seeking for signs of more mushrooms, but could find none. Then Dick stood up and stretched his back-muscles. "My that was tough digging when you have no tool. And it wasn't a potato after all." "Well, we've been gone a long time now. Suppose we go back with what we have," said Joan. "Yes; even if we can't fill up on steaks to-day, let us eat more of the greens," added Judith. So they turned to go back to camp. They climbed over the boulders similar to those over which they had already climbed, over similar fallen timber, and finally came to a stream. "I don't remember a brook when we came," remarked Julie. "Neither do I," added Judith. "All places look alike when you're hunting anything. We may have crossed a bog or a brook and never have noticed it," said Dick. "Oh, I would have noticed it! I wouldn't be such a poor scout as not to know where I was going," returned Julie, defensively. "Now, Dick, I'm sure there was no bog where we came through, but here's one right ahead of us," called Joan, who was a few paces ahead. "No, there was no bog!" affirmed Julie. "Did you bring a compass?" now asked Dick. "No, we never thought of being lost," murmured Julie. "We're not lost, just strayed a bit," Dick assured them. "'Lost, Strayed or Stolen'--it's all the same if we have to miss our dinner," sighed Joan. They managed to cross the boggy spot and then trailed to a place that Dick claimed was the clearing. But it turned out to be a little fen made by a tiny spring. "What we should have done was to leave our marks as we came through--broken twigs, or trampled grass, or some such signs," said Julie. "But we didn't, and now is no time to talk of it!" Dick said impatiently, for he began to realize that they really were lost. "We can begin right now, however, and then not keep circling around without recognizing that we were there before!" snapped Julie. So the girls began, then and there, to leave their signs as they followed after Dick, who really knew not where he was leading. "Had we better separate and go in different directions to hunt the camp?" asked Dick finally. "Mercy, no! Better be lost together than get lost each one alone!" exclaimed Joan. "Sort of 'United we stand,' etc.," chuckled Julie, in spite of her concern over not finding the way. They kept on forcing a way through the thick bush and resting now and then when they found a little clearing; but finally Judith cried: "You'll have to go without me! I'm so weak from hunger I can't walk another step." "Girls, suppose we stop and cook the steaks?" asked Dick. "I say so, too," agreed Julie. So they cleared a little space in the woods and with two rubbing-sticks soon produced fire. While two of the girls were doing this, Dick washed the mushrooms in the little spring they had seen, and then sliced them with his knife. "We haven't any salt or bacon, but they'll taste good to starved wanderers," said Dick, holding one over the fire to cook. Each girl spiked one on a sharpened stick and held it out to broil. When the mushrooms were cooked they each ate until they felt better. Then Dick made a suggestion. "Making this fire gave me an idea. Why not make 'two smokes' for signals. If Alec or any one else is looking for us, they can see them." "Why didn't we think of that before! Fine idea, Dick," said Joan. "What will 'two smokes' mean?" asked Judith. "Means 'we are lost,' come find us," said Dick, busy with two heaps of firewood. "But you can't signal here under these trees, Dick! We've got to find an open place where the smoke can rise up above the tree-tops, you know," advised Julie. Dick realized he had been caught napping by a girl, and he didn't like it very much but he could not show his annoyance, for Julie was right. So he stood up and said: "I'll shout as loud as possible,--maybe they will hear us." So he shouted until he was hoarse. "In this dense forest, where the trees break every sound, the smoke signal is as good as any other. Let us find a clearing," suggested Julie. So they sought again, and soon found an open spot where the sky was visible without any obstructing tree-branches overhead. "Why, this looks like the same clearing that I said would make a fine baseball diamond," declared Julie. "So it does! And here is a broken twig where we went out," said Joan. [Illustration: "We are lost, come find us" ... Page 98] "Then we can't be many miles from home," laughed Julie, her spirits rising again at the slightest encouragement. They made two smokes, however, and waited to watch the thin spirals rise above the trees, side by side, until they dispersed in the blue ether far overhead. But no sound came in answer to the signals. "Maybe no one remembered the smoke idea," ventured Judith. "And they'd have to be in the open, or climb a tree, to see it," asserted Joan. "Maybe they made signals, too, and are waiting for us to answer them. Did you bring a rifle, Dick?" said Julie. "No, none of us did. But I can climb one of these trees and see if the others made any smokes." "Choose that towering pine,--you ought to be able to see everything from that high top," advised Julie. So Dick climbed the tall pine, but after he had reached the top he saw nothing that might lead him to find the other campers. He shouted and whistled as shrilly as he could from the lofty perch, but no answering sound came to his ears, so he slid down again. "See anything at all, Dick?" asked Julie, the moment he came down. "A great sea of waving green tops, one wave back of the other, without a break," said he. "Well, what now? Shall we keep on hunting for the way back from this clearing, or just sit and let them find us?" asked Joan, despondently. "You know they say a flock of ducks will always fly towards water. Now, I saw some ducks flying in one direction when I sat up in that tree," remarked Dick. "Then you _did_ see something other than waves of green! Why didn't you say so!" snapped Julie, impatient with his poor scouting sense. "I thought they might be flying down towards Little Moose Lake, where Dandelion Camp is, and we want to find our party," said Dick, in justification. "Anything to get out of this tangle. We'd just as lief wind up at Dandelion Camp as elsewhere," said Joan. "All right then, follow me and we will go in the direction the birds flew," said Dick, and he started down hill. Down and down they tramped, chopping away smaller obstructions, until they were stopped by a wide fen that belted the section. Advance was impossible, for every time one tried to step upon the ooze the foot would begin to sink in. "Oh, how awful!" wailed Judith, ready to cry. "How can we cross? If only we could find a fallen tree that happened to fall right across," sighed Joan. "If only we had a drink of cold water I'd be thankful," declared Julie, mopping her warm face. "That's the easiest part of the whole trouble," quickly said Dick. "What do you mean? I wouldn't drink that slimy liquid for anything," said Julie, frowning at the water. "Now, just wait a second and you'll see what I can do with that water!" bragged Dick, glad to redeem his reputation as a scout. With hands and a stick he quickly dug a hole to the depth of the marsh. Then he squinted carefully at his well, then at the marsh, and back again. The girls watched him curiously. "Guess I can go a few inches deeper,--the well has to be about six inches below the surface of the nearby pool, you know." He dug deeper and soon the well began filling with muddy water. "There, now I've got it!" said Dick. "Do you expect us to drink _that_!" scorned Joan. "No, but wait." Dick hurriedly baled out the well until it was almost emptied. Then he allowed it to fill again. He baled it out a second time, and permitted it to fill again. The third time the water was almost clear, so he baled once more, and this time the water filtered in as clear as crystal. He stooped, drank from it, and said: "It's cold and pure!" Then the girls drank, and found it most refreshing to their parched tongues and throats. "Well, I never knew that before! We've learned two things by being lost with Dick as guide," said Julie frankly, and Dick was delighted to hear such nice things about himself. "Shall we try to circle this fen and get across, or go back again?" now asked Dick. "It's hard to tell just what is best to do," murmured Julie, puckering her brow in thought. Suddenly two shots echoed down the mountainside, and after an interval of six seconds a third shot rang out. "There! Alec's seen our smoke. His signal means 'Where are you?' What shall we do?" cried Dick, excitedly. "How can we answer them?" wondered the girls. "We'll have to back-trail to our clearing. That's where the shots sounded from," said Dick. "Dear me, if only we had waited there, they would have found us," complained Judith. "But we didn't, so the next best thing to do is to get back as soon as we can, or they'll go away again," declared Julie. They climbed, scrambled and tumbled up the rugged slope, keeping as far as they could to the rough trail they had made in coming down. When they thought they were near the clearing, they shouted with all their lung-power, and the welcome sound of answering calls soon greeted their ears. "Oh, Dick, give that cat-call again so they will know we're on our way," asked Julie, anxiously. So Dick gave his ear-splitting whistle by placing his fingers between his lips and blowing through the crevices. In less than ten seconds afterwards, two shots sounded in quick succession. "That means they've heard us and are waiting," cried Dick. "Come this way,--that echo is misleading." So the girls followed their young guide, and soon they broke through the fringe of great trees into the clearing where the rest of the party stood. Alec gave them no time to explain. He was angry, and no mistaking it! "Dick, can you tell me of any concession made to you that allows you to start two fires and then go away and leave them to work their will in these forests? If we had not found the fires you left, what might have resulted to this area of mountain land?" The girls and Dick stood amazed, for they had forgotten all about the fires started as smoke signals. "When I broke through the underbrush into this clearing, the fires were blazing away like fury. They had encroached upon all the brush and handy leaves, and were eating a way to the timber-line. In half an hour more those same _little_ fires would be raging over the crest and destroying acres and acres of forest-trees, to say nothing of causing the work all the farmers and forest-rangers would have in trying to control it. Just because a brainless scout _forgot_ his duty!" The scorn in Alec's last words was cutting. Dick began to apologize, but Alec held up a hand. "No apology will answer for such a thing." Then he turned to Ned and said: "Put Dick down for penance at camp." "We ought to be punished as well as Dick," said Julie. "We never remembered the fires, either." "That's up to your Captain,--I am merely doing my duty to _my_ Troop," returned Alec. "Had anything to eat?" asked Anne, who always felt sorry for any one who was hungry. "We ate the mushrooms we found," meekly replied Joan. "Then come back and eat what we left for you. We had fish and greens and biscuit," said Hester. While they were munching the cold food, Alec questioned them further. "Why didn't you use what scout-sense you had? You know you could have found the way you came through those woods by looking for broken cobwebs across the bushes; by overturned stones with the damp under side showing; or by broken twigs and crushed blades of grass; and last, but hardest, you might have looked to see where leaves on trees and bushes were turned awry from your brushing against them. They do not right themselves immediately, you know." "We never heard of that before," admitted Julie. "But Dick has, even though he has forgotten it," said Alec. "He had to learn it from the Manual--what he would do in case of being lost in a forest." "But even if you knew nothing about that, you all knew it would simplify things for us if you were to blaze a way to guide us the way you went. You could easily have broken twigs and left them hanging, or piled little heaps of stones along the trail you took." "Oh, for goodness sake! Let up on us now, and wait until _you_ are lost, will you?" cried Julie, placing her palms over her ears. "Yes, it's so easy to tell the other feller what to do!" was all the retort Dick made. "Well, children, after all I have my inning!" declared Mr. Gilroy, chuckling. "What's that?" demanded every one. "I wanted you to come home and dine with me, but no! you must stop to cook in the woods. Now you'll all be glad enough to hurry home and come to my party. And the dinner won't be slighted, either, from so much overeating up here!" CHAPTER SEVEN A LITTLE BUSINESS At breakfast the day following the "Lost Scouts'" adventure, Mrs. Vernon remarked: "Girls, yesterday's experience taught me an important thing, and that is, we need a set of rules for camp, so that every member of Dandelion Troop will have her proper share of work and duty to perform. "We have been keeping house in a haphazard way, with no responsibility attached to any one but Julie and me. Now, each day there must be some sort of regulations and punishments, if duties are neglected. The fire yesterday showed me that that system was good." "Your idea is all right, Verny, but what will the rules cover, and why have punishments?" asked Julie. "Because every day will probably bring new problems to us, so that set rules will not do, but each day must have added rules. If these rules are not obeyed, the scout who is negligent ought to be made to pay for her lack of obedience." "Have you formulated any plan to begin with?" asked Joan. "I thought that Julie, as Scout Leader, could consult with me about that. Although I think we ought to select a new orderly for each day, to see that the other scouts do what is required of them. If we begin with Ruth, Betty next day, and so on through the new membership, one each day, it brings us to the eighth day. Of course Julie, Joan and I will not be orderlies. But the Leader and Corporal are over the Orderly, and the Captain over all of you." "What do you expect the Orderly to do, Verny?" asked Joan. "She will read the rules for the day immediately after breakfast. Every scout must take turns in being cook for camp one day. One must be wood-gatherer, one must see that food supplies are on hand, some must do the fishing, and so on through the entire housekeeping list. This trains every one alike, and no partiality will be shown one who is a fine cook or one who is an awful one!" The girls laughed, and the Captain continued: "Then, we don't expect one to do all the heavy work while another goes free, and by partitioning the work and control each one does her bit. In case of any gross negligence or breaking of rules, the Officer of the Day, the Corporal and the Leader will decide the punishment. Should need arise, the whole Troop may act as a jury to judge the matter." After the Captain had finished speaking, the scouts sat down and compiled a set of Camp Rules, and Ruth was asked to print them neatly on cardboard, because Ruth was the artistic scout of the group. This business disposed of, Julie said: "Now what shall we do to-day, girls?" "But you haven't chosen an Orderly for the Day!" called Judith. "Oh, that's so! Well, it lies between Ruth and Amy, as they are the more experienced scouts, to act the first day." "Don't choose me. I've got my work cut out already, if you expect these rules nicely printed," declared Ruth. "All right, then; it's Amy. No partiality meant, girls," Julie reminded them. "More like 'malice aforethought,'" giggled Joan. "Why? Isn't it an honor to be the Orderly?" demanded Julie. "It may _seem_ like an honor, but when it is thoroughly investigated it turns out to be just plain old hard work!" "Sure, Julie! Don't you see, all the other scouts go scot free for the day, while the Orderly has to see that everything is done properly and then take the blame if nothing is right," laughed Judith. "Well, Amy is able to carry the burden, and it is only for a day; then another one has to do it," said the Captain. When the weighty business of selecting rules and deciding on a recreation for the day was over, Mrs. Vernon said, "Which did you decide to do first, hike or swim?" "Is Mr. Gilroy coming over to visit us to-day?" asked Ruth. "He invited himself to supper to-night, but I doubt if we see him before that time. Why?" answered the Captain. "Because if he was coming, he would hike with us, and we'd rather wait for him, and swim first. But it doesn't matter now." "We'll go for the hike first, and when we get back a fine, cool swim will feel good," suggested the Orderly for the day. "Verny, do you know of any places one might choose for an objective on a hike?" asked Joan. "Yes, Mr. Gilroy gave me a county map that shows every good trail within twenty miles of here. I'll get it and we'll look it over." So saying, the Captain went to her tent for the paper. They all sat about Mrs. Vernon as she studied the map and read aloud of various trails that sounded interesting. At last she said: "Here's one that seems inviting. It is named 'River Bend,' and the trail winds along one of the streams that is an outlet of our lake. The description says the blazes are old but distinct, and no one can miss the may. Shall we try that trail?" "Where does it end?" questioned Hester. "How long is it to anywhere?" asked Anne. "It's seven miles, and forks when one reaches the hut of an Indian canoe-builder. One fork runs to River Bend village, and the other to a ravine that is said to be most picturesque." "We'll take that trail and decide which place we prefer to see, the village or the ravine, after we have hiked a while," said the Orderly. "Why not take a little flour and fat and catch some fish at noon, and sup while on the trail?" asked Julie. "Why not carry our dinner stuff and have a _regular_ meal while we are about it," said Anne, who could not forego a dinner. The other scouts laughed, and Mrs. Vernon replied, "All right, it sounds inviting." So each scout carried a tin cup and platter, while the Orderly saw to it that each one carried part of the dinner material. It fell to the Captain's lot to carry the frying-pan, and to Anne to carry the two-quart pail; the others had the flour, bacon, potatoes, etc. River Bend trail led down to the end of the lake, where the stream started. It wound in and out, as it followed the uneven edges of Little Moose Lake, running over mossy knolls, through rivulets, past waterfalls, and around impassable obstructions. Thus the detouring added greatly to the distance the map had vouched for. The scouts had paper and pencils in case they wished to sketch anything interesting, but most of the paper was used in writing notes along the way, to be entered later in their records. They had gone about two miles when Julie stopped short and held up a warning hand. "Verny, listen! I heard a baby crying pitifully over in those high bushes." "Mercy me! Do you suppose there can be any gypsies here?" cried Amy, the timid. "Gypsies--nothing! But how could a baby get in that jungle?" retorted Joan. Then they distinctly heard the plaintive wail, as of a very young child in fear and distress. Even Mrs. Vernon turned pale at the picture that presented itself to her thought. "Girls, we've got to investigate this. It doesn't seem plausible that any one would bring a kidnapped child to this wilderness to lose it, but one can never tell!" declared Julie. "It's a baby, that we know, so it's up to us to save it," added Ruth. "The poor little dear!" wept Betty, the tender-hearted. So the scouts began cutting a way through the almost impenetrable growth that divided the trail from the place whence came the cries. But as they went deeper in the jungle and got nearer the spot they were aiming for, the cries ceased. "Dear, dear! I hope the little thing isn't past aid?" murmured the Captain, anxiously. That urged the scouts to greater endeavor, and finally Julie broke into a tiny clearing of about three feet across, and saw a little grey rabbit, which had been caught in an old mesh-wire trap set by some one long before and forgotten. "Oh, you poor little creature!" cried Julie, falling upon her knees to rescue the soft little thing. "Is it alive, Jule?" asked a chorus of anxious voices. "Yes, but it is awfully afraid of me. I can't do anything for it." "Maybe it will bite you--do be careful, Jule!" called Amy, deliciously thrilled at this fearful risk her friend was taking. "Bite!" scorned Julie. "It's starved, and too weak to even nibble." "Wait, Julie! Let me throw my hat over it so it won't see what we are doing. Then it won't feel so frightened. Remember the 'Boulder' we all saw, and when it moved we had a panic? Well, our sense of sight was all that caused that fear. It is the same now--what the rabbit doesn't see it won't fear," explained Mrs. Vernon. While it was hidden under the broad-brimmed scout hat, the rabbit was not aware of the willing rescuers, and soon Julie had the snare open, and Mrs. Vernon held the little creature in her hat. "Shall we let it go now?" asked some of the girls. "It may have an injured leg where the trap caught it. I think we will carry it home and feed it well, and then if it is all right, it can run away. It is sure to be caught by some larger animal if it is unable to jump or run," said the Captain. "This will make a dandy story to write down in our record book, Verny, won't it?" asked Ruth, eagerly. "Yes, but it will also show how inexperienced we are in wildwood sounds,--to mistake the rabbit's cry for a child's wail." "But it _did_ sound exactly like a baby, there's no denying that!" exclaimed Julie, frowning as she realized how they all were caught napping. "This reminds me of a story Alec told us yesterday when we were waiting at the campfire for you lost scouts," said Hester. "He and his Troop went on a three days' hike in the country last year, and at night they found an old abandoned barn where they decided to sleep. The floor was in good condition, with a bit of hay piled up in one corner. But the loft overhead was in such bad condition that in many places the flooring was broken down completely. As there was no ladder or stairway to reach it, the boys concluded there was no use in examining it--no one would be up there! "So they stretched out on the hay and were soon sound asleep. But some time after that--no one knew how long they had been asleep--Ned nudged Alec and whispered: 'Some one's in the loft!' "Alec sat up and listened. Sure enough, he could hear a man snoring as distinctly as he could hear Dick breathe. "So he roused the other scouts, and they very quietly crept over to the side where they could get a grip on the joists to help themselves up. Each scout had armed himself in some way. One had an old pitchfork with but one prong. Another had a rake handle, one found the curved handle of a feed-grinder, and so on. "When they got to the shaky, decayed floor above, the snoring had stopped, so they knew the tramp was aware of their approach. They had to be awfully careful, too, so as not to fall through any of the broken places in the floor. But they each had their lanterns, and used them before they took a step. Alec went first, and threw the light back and forth to avoid a sudden surprise from the tramp. "'There's something moving over on that pile of old burlap sacks!' whispered Alec, the instant he saw a creeping movement there. "Several of the boys then jumped and began beating up the sacks violently. But as suddenly, a pair of wings flapped up in their faces with a whirring sound, and a barn-owl began to screech madly as she rose and flew through a hole in the roof." Hester laughed as she reached this part of the story, and all the scouts joined in. Julie, who had not heard it before, said: "Thank goodness, we girls are not the only ones to be taken in, then!" "Alec said there are lots of wild creatures that make sounds exactly like human beings. And that owl snored just like a man." By this time they had regained the trail, and Mrs. Vernon tenderly adjusted the trembling rabbit. The hat so covered it that it could curl inside and not see a thing to cause it any fear, and thus it was carried along, to be cared for later on and then regain its freedom. The scouts found many interesting subjects for discussion along the trail, until they reached a wide shallow stream that came down the steep mountainside and emptied into the river. "It's not on the map, and it sure cuts off further progress," said the Captain. "It's shallow--we can wade it," suggested Julie. "Let us go upstream and find a narrow ford, or some rocks that we can cross on," added Mrs. Vernon. They went up on the near side of the stream, but the banks became so rocky and impassable that they found it was useless to try to climb them. The scenery was wild and wonderful, so several good pictures were taken of the tumbling waters and rocks, and then they all retraced their steps. "Now, it's wade or go back," declared Joan. "Stuff your stockings down in your boots and sling them about your necks by the strings," advised Julie. This was done, and one after another the scouts waded through the stream, shouting, screaming if one slipped on a stone, laughing when one stepped in a hole and got wet to the waist, but having plenty of fun. "How did bunny stand the voyage?" called Julie, the moment the Captain stepped up on the bank. "Bunny is curled up fast asleep, I guess," said she. "I wish it was noon. Did any one hear the twelve o'clock whistle blow?" laughed Joan. "Why--are you hungry?" questioned Anne. "Aren't you?" retorted the Orderly. "Sure! I always am," laughed Anne, frankly. "Then why not say it is dinner-time, Verny?" asked Ruth. "You must be hungry, too!" declared Judith. "I bet we all are, if Verny will take the count," asserted Hester. "Well, we may as well stop here beside this stream and eat, as to go on and fare worse," admitted the Captain. "Some one's got to fish," said Judith. "Why not all fish and the sooner catch what is needed?" advised Mrs. Vernon. So this suggestion was followed out. Four goodly sized fish rewarded the combined efforts of the fishermen that time, and then two scouts were detailed to clean them, while two went to build a fire. Others were tolled off to attend to other work, and in half an hour a savory meal was ready. When all signs of cooking and eating were cleaned away, Mrs. Vernon took the bunny again and said they had best go on. "Outdoor cooking and eating always makes me feel fine. I can walk a hundred miles now, and feel it no more than if it were a trifle," said Julie, taking a deep breath. "All the same, we haven't gone five miles yet, according to Verny's map, and there is still that walk home, so don't brag too much, Julie," advised Betty, seriously. "We haven't voted yet whether we want to go on to the village or to the ravine," now said Ruth. "I'd like to visit the old Indian canoe-maker, and have a chat with him," said Joan. "His time is money, so he will charge us for chatting," returned Julie, grinning. "I think Joan's idea of visiting the Indian a good one, girls; why not go there instead of to either of the other places?" The Captain's suggestion was agreed upon, and the scouts turned in at the willow-arched walk that led to the Indian's hut. A wide brook ran under the willows, and here they saw several canoes waiting to be used. The pathway that ran alongside the brook was littered with rubbish of all kinds,--the accumulation of years of slovenly housekeeping and lazy carpenter work out of doors. But it was evident that the Indian was neither slovenly nor lazy when it pertained to making canoes. Every canoe there was a splendid example of workmanship. When the scouts reached the door, the owner came out to see them. "Morn'," said he, bowing seriously to his visitors. "Are you Mike, the Indian?" asked Mrs. Vernon, after acknowledging the salutation. "Me Mike--wan'da canoe?" "No, we came to visit you. We are friends of Mr. Gilroy's," explained the Captain. "Huh! Mees'er Gilloy use Mike's canoes." "So he told us. He says they are the finest anywhere," said Julie, ingratiatingly. "Bedder buy one," came from the Indian. "Verny, we might _rent_ another one--we only have two in the lake, you know, and we all prefer canoes to boats," whispered Joan. "We can't afford any added expense," replied Mrs. Vernon. But Mike understood the meaning of that whisper, so he wisely said: "Come see fine canoes." He led the way to his shop on the banks of the little stream and displayed the various methods of his trade. The girls found it all very instructive and interesting. Then he said: "Mike take canoe to lake fer leddy--no charge." "What do you mean by that?" wondered Julie. "Mike give fine canoe--one week try; leddy not like, Mike come take him home. No pay." "But we don't want any more canoes. We have two now," asserted Mrs. Vernon. Mike shrugged his shoulders silently. "How much you rent canoe for?" asked Julie, believing the Indian could comprehend better if she used bad English. "Mike no rent his canoe--sell him cheap." "We can't afford to buy one, but we might rent it if you make a low price," bargained Julie. Mike shook his head decidedly. "No rent--onny buy." "Come, girls! We must start on, now that we've had our visit," said the Captain, turning to go. The scouts reluctantly turned also, but Mike saw their faces, and also knew that the lady was boss. So he seemed to reconsider. "Mike got good fren' by Mees'er Gilloy. Mebbe fren's of him be fren's of Mike. How much you give for rent canoe?" Every one turned suddenly at that hope held forth. "What do you ask?" countered Mrs. Vernon. "Got money now to pay?" asked Mike, cutely. Julie exclaimed, "Certainly!" But the Captain saw through the shrewd bargainer, and said: "We'll have Mr. Gilroy do this business for us." Now Mike had no idea of losing these customers, nor of having to deal with a good business man like Mr. Gilroy, so he said guilelessly: "Solly dese gals no paddle home in dis canoe." Several of the scouts instantly wished to do so, but the Captain said: "Corporal, see that your Troop does not fall for this enticing snare." The scouts laughed when they comprehended Mike's intentions, and Mrs. Vernon courageously walked away. But Mike followed. "Canoe rent for four dollah week." "What! that's sixteen a month! I guess not!" cried Julie. "Fren's of Mees'er Gilloy get him fer tree dollah week." "No sir-ee!" retorted Julie. "Mike, I'll pay you two dollah week--or six dollah mont--or feefteen dollah season. What you take?" All the scouts laughed, but Mike frowned. "Me tak feefteen dollah now to Augus' furst," said he. Every one hushed to get every word of this bargaining. "We want him in Augus', too. Him worth feefteen dollah, no more, till September ten," declared Julie, slapping her palms together to emphasize her words. Mike sighed audibly. "All light. But Mike no carry him an' lose day. Gals mus' tak now an' pay down." Then every one turned to every one else, and word ran round: "Who's got any money?" "I've got three dollars--that's all," said Mrs. Vernon. "Mike, we got tree dollahs only. Come to camp and get rest," said Julie. "You tak him along?" asked Mike, anxiously. "Are you 'fraid to trust us?" countered Julie. "Oh, no! Mike no wan' trouble carry him so far, da's all." So the three dollars was paid down, balance to be paid when Mike called for it; canoe to be taken along with no added work expected of Mike. Mike launched the canoe in the stream that passed his shop, and several of the girls squatted in the bottom. But it proved overweighted for such a shallow stream, and two had to get out again. Julie and Joan then paddled it safely to the deeper river, where Amy and Judith, being lightest of the scouts, got in and sat in the bottom. Mrs. Vernon and the rest of the Troop stood watching eagerly while the two girls paddled silently and swiftly up the river to the place where the tumbling stream joined River Bend. Here they halted to allow their other friends to catch up with them. Julie and Joan were complimented upon their prowess, and when Ruth and Betty exchanged places with Amy and Judith, the canoe went on its way up the river, while the other scouts continued hiking back towards camp. "It wouldn't take us long to reach home if we were all in canoes," said Anne. "It would if _you_ were in one--you are so heavy!" laughed Hester. A titter sounded from the girls, but Mrs. Vernon held up a hand for silence. "Was that thunder I heard from over the mountain?" "No, that was only Julie's paddle echoing down the stream," giggled Judith. But a louder rumble told the Captain she was right in her surmise. "Dear me! I hope we won't be caught in another thunder-storm," said she, holding the bunny closer to her side. But in answer to her fear, a sudden flash and a nearer peal of thunder warned them all to seek shelter if possible. "If it rains we're bound to be soaked!" sighed Anne. "You big silly! Did any of us think water was dry?" asked Hester, scornfully. "I do wish those girls hadn't left us in the canoe! If it rains they may upset," worried the Captain. "They didn't leave _us_ in the canoe, Captain. And we are just as likely to meet with mishap as they," laughed Judith, to cheer every one up. "Well, it's going to break mighty quick! See that inky cloud scudding across there?" exclaimed Amy, pointing at the sky. "Verny, why not make a quick shelter to crawl under?" suggested Anne. "Think you can do it?" answered the Captain. "Hester's got the rubber cover that Mike gave us for the canoe when it is not in use, and we might stretch that between four trees," added Anne. "That's so. Let's try it!" agreed Hester, eagerly. Quickly, then, the scouts chopped down the scrub bush where four young trees were found for the corners, and then, while Anne and Hester secured the four corners of the cover, the other girls ditched around the spot so the rain would run off and not soak their camping place. Anne and Hester completed their work before the others, and then hastily bunched a mass of chopped-down bushes all around the temporary tent to break the driving rain when it came. The spot thus enclosed was not large, but by huddling together they managed to keep dry. "How nice it is to sit in a dry place and watch everything else gradually soak with the rain," ventured Amy, comfortably. "No one would have dreamed that a shower would come up to-day, the weather was so perfect when we left camp," said Judith. "Do any of you girls understand weather-lore?" asked Mrs. Vernon. No one did, so the Captain continued: "If you study wind and cloud, wildwood creatures and other animals, you will find much to interest you in the weather. "When rain is coming you will see the sheep turn their tails to windward, but if the day is to be fine the sheep will graze with faces to the wind. "Cows always gather and huddle together at a sheltered end of the pasture lot when a storm is approaching. Cattle are restless and uneasy before a storm breaks. And cows will fling up their heels, or sheep will gambol as if to make the most of the sunshine just before a prolonged spell of bad weather. Pigs, too, will grunt loudly and cavort about uneasily in their pens, carrying bits of straw from their bedding in their mouths, before a heavy rainstorm. "With wild creatures you will find partridges sitting in the fields when thunder is in the air. But the moment the storm blows over, the birds are alive with energy again. Rabbits and other night-feeders can be found out hunting on a sunny day, but that means there will be a wet night. "Most of our birds in field and forest know when a storm is brewing, and they can be seen seeking for extra food to carry home, or, perhaps, devouring it quickly, storing it up against the time everything is soaked with the rain. "Bees seldom fly far from the hive when rain is threatening; flies are annoying and sting sharply before rain, and many times they cling tenaciously to wall or furniture,--that is to keep flat to a surface, so their bodies will not become damp. "A large ring can be found to encircle the moon the night preceding a rainstorm. Should the storm be two or three days off, the ring is wider and you will find fainter shadows inside the main circle,--one for each day. "Mountain moss is found to be soft and limp, and smoke generally beats downward when the East Wind presages rain. Callouses on the feet will ache painfully; spiders will be seen strengthening their webs against moisture-weight; morning-glories will close up tightly; mushrooms are found to be numerous; and there are a dozen other weather-signs that I forget now." The scouts had listened with interest, for this was new to them, although Hester added: "I've heard the saying, 'Mackerel sky, twelve hours dry.'" "Yes, and another one goes, 'Rain before seven, fine before eleven,'" said Judith. "You will find in summer that heavy dews in the night mean fine weather the following day," added Mrs. Vernon. "Also any thunder-storm that comes with the wind soon passes away, but let it come against the wind, and it is apt to last." "This one came with the wind and is blowing away already. See!" exclaimed Amy, eagerly. "Yes, girls, now we can do as the Arabs--fold our tent and steal away," said Mrs. Vernon, rising carefully so as not to jar the bunny which had remained very quiet all this time. "I wonder what the girls in the canoe did while the rain was falling," said Judith. "Leave it to Julie to find a way. I'll say she landed them all on the bank and then turned the canoe upside down over their heads," laughed Hester. When the canoeists arrived at camp, sometime after the hikers got there, they exchanged experiences. Hester's surmise turned out to be exactly right, and the girls in the canoe were as dry as those who sat under the rubber cover. CHAPTER EIGHT JAKE'S INTERVIEW WITH A SKUNK "Gilly, do you know of any vegetable dye we can find in the woods to dye some burlap for decorations?" asked Julie one day. "Yes, you can take the berries and leaves of red or staghorn sumac and boil them together to make a black dye, or ink. If you need ink in a hurry, you can take the _Genus Coprinus_, commonly known as the ink mushroom, and pluck it at the end of its first day. The spores are black, and the gills turn into a black fluid at the last. This produces a splendid writing ink, or will dye grass, quills, and other wildwood stuffs." "Speaking of quills, Gilly--why can't we have chickens as the Grey Fox boys have?" asked Joan. "What would you do if they got the gapes, and no one would feed them chopped onions?" laughed Mr. Gilroy. "I'm not looking for trouble, but for pets to have about camp," retorted Joan. "I'd hardly call a chicken a pet!" laughed Julie. "Even so, Julie, it would cluck and _appear_ to be friendly, even it wasn't." "What you scouts need is a good frisky dog for a pet. You can have chickens, if you like, but they are a nuisance. They stray away to lay their eggs, and if they were kept cooped you'd have to spend valuable time making a suitable inclosure. But a dog will go hiking with you, guard you at night from elephants and other prowling animals of the jungle, and be a fine old pal to boot," said Mr. Gilroy. "Oh, why didn't we think to bring Jippy," exclaimed Amy. Jip was a little poodle of about fifteen years and had had the rickets for the past five years, so he had to be carried about. The moment the scouts saw that Amy was in earnest they fairly roared, and Judith finally said: "Oh, Amy's catching the _ingénue_ habit from Betty! What shall we do with two of them on hand?" "Had we but known of this dire need of a dog, we would have brought Towser--had he lived. He was only twenty-two this March, and had full use of his bark even though he had no teeth or eyesight. But, alas! alas! Towser is no more!" sighed Julie, rolling her eyes. As Towser had been one of the "old settlers" in Elmertown, he was known to every man, woman and child there. Many a time, because he was stone-deaf and had not heard the blast from the horn, some one would have to rush out to rescue him from a passing automobile. So Julie's lament caused a new burst of merriment. "Stop all fooling now, scouts, and listen to me," said Mr. Gilroy. "I mean a regular dog--an Irish terrier, or a bulldog, to chum with and be of some good to you. How'd you like it?" "There ain't no sech critter in camp," retorted Julie. "But I know where to get one! His name is Jake, and he is very fond of the ladies, I'm told." "His name sounds dreadfully rakish, Gilly," teased Joan. "If Jacob is as faithful as his name would imply, we'd like to meet him," added Mrs. Vernon, smiling. "You shall. He lives at the farm where my overseer is, and the next time Mr. Benson is due here, I'll see that Jake accompanies him. If both sides are mutually attracted, the dog shall stay to give you scouts something to do," declared Mr. Gilroy. "What kind of a dog is he, Gilly?" asked Betty, eagerly. "He is a prize Airedale. But he is so clever that he tries to run everything on the farm, consequently Mr. Benson always has to separate Jake from the other dogs in the neighborhood." For the next two days the scouts were kept busy constructing a fine kennel for Jake to live in when he joined their camp. Everything imaginable was done to add to the comfort and luxury of this "dog's life"; and the third day they started for the bungalow to be introduced to Jake, who was expected to arrive that morning. It was a warm, drowsy day, and the wildwood creatures seemed to be keeping quiet. Even the bees hummed less noisily over the flowers they were robbing of nectar. The girls strolled slowly along the pathway, stopping now and then to watch a bird or examine a flower. They were just passing the bend where the tumbling brook could be plainly seen from the trail when, suddenly, Julie held up a warning hand for quiet. Every one stopped short and waited. She pointed silently across the bushes in the direction of a long fallen tree that lay on the bank of the stream. The scouts looked, but saw nothing to cause this interest. Then she whispered warily, "I saw a big creature creeping along that log!" "Really!" "What did it look like? Which way did it go?" were questions hoarsely whispered. "It crawled on that log and suddenly disappeared. Maybe it jumped into the water when it saw us. I am thinking it was a beaver," returned Julie. "Oh, how wonderful! If we could only see it at work," cried some of the scouts. "How big was it, Julie?" now asked Mrs. Vernon. "It went so fast that I couldn't see well, but I should say it was about as big as a very large cat,--maybe larger if we were closer," said Julie. "Dear me, if we didn't have to go for Jake we might sit and wait for it to appear again. If it is a beaver, I'd love to watch it build a dam," sighed Ruth. "I hope Jake won't want to chase it, on our way back," Betty worried, as the thought struck her. "We'll hold Jake on a leash. And if he doesn't make a fuss we might creep over and watch for the animal's appearance again," added Julie. "Then the sooner we go and get Jake, the sooner we'll be back here," was the sensible remark of Joan. The scouts now hurried along the trail and soon reached the bungalow, where a splendid Airedale was sleeping in the sunshine. He was stretched out full length right in the way where one would have to pass to go up the steps to the verandah. "Oh, are you Jake?" called Julie quickly, when she saw the dog. "Isn't he a beaut?" cried Joan, admiring the shapely form as it jumped up to growl at the visitors. "Why, Jake, don't begin our relations with a growl! Don't you know we have to keep the peace all summer?" laughed Julie, snapping her fingers to the dog. Mr. Gilroy heard voices and came out on the verandah. The moment he greeted the scouts familiarly, Jake wagged his stump of a tail and ran up to show his friendship for his master's friends. The girls fussed over the dog immediately, and Mr. Gilroy smiled. "Well, what do you think of him, scouts? Is he homely enough to win your pity? You know it is said, 'Pity is akin to love.'" "He's a regular peach, Gilly!" exclaimed Joan. "Just what we need at camp," added Judith. And in the next ten minutes the dog had won high favor with his future companions. Then the scouts told about the animal they believed to be a beaver, so they wanted to hurry back and watch. "But hold to the leash if you go near the log. Jake is a born hunter," advised Mr. Benson. "Oh, he is very obedient if you speak sternly to him," added Mr. Gilroy. "If he tugs or wants to run, just command in severe tones, 'To heel, Jake,' and he will obey like a lamb." Jake wagged his tail as he watched Mr. Gilroy, and when the order was given, 'To heel, Jake,' he crept behind his master. "Oh, the darling! Doesn't he mind splendidly!" cried several of the scouts. "I'll come along pretty soon. Wait for me near the log where you saw the beaver. I'll finish up with Benson and then join you there," said Mr. Gilroy, as the scouts started down the trail again, leading Jake by the leash. Every one was delighted with the meek and obedient dog, and the fussing was accepted by him as his due, but he paid no attention to the numerous pats and endearing names given him as they walked along. Then they reached the open space where the log bounded the edge of the running water. It was about a hundred yards from the trail and distinctly visible because the brook was lower than the footpath where the scouts stood. "There it is! I saw it!" exclaimed Joan, excitedly. At the same moment Jake also saw something doubtful moving swiftly out of sight back of the log. The girls ran over to the bushes to see the better, and Julie's hold on the leash relaxed unconsciously. In that same second, Jake took mean advantage of her inattention to him and darted away. "Oh, oh! Come back here, Jake!" yelled Julie instantly. But the dog stood upon a rock, his ears erect, his nose sniffing as he pointed it in the direction of the log. His tail trembled spasmodically and the hair along his spine stood up stiffly. "I say, to heel, Jake. Come back, to heel!" shouted every scout in the group. But Jake was deaf to their calls. Then the Captain called to him, but he bounded from the rock and managed to force his way through the bushes, the leash catching here and there on stumps, on sharp rocks, or on bushes. "What shall we do? Now he'll kill the little beaver!" wailed Betty, wringing her hands. "Some one run back and get Gilly! _He'll_ make him mind," ordered Julie. "Who's Orderly for the Day? I want to wait and watch what he does," said Joan. "Oh, pshaw! I'm Orderly, and I s'pose I've got to go," declared Judith, impatiently. "I'll go for you, Judy, 'cause I can't bear to wait here and see Jake kill anything," said Betty, deeply distressed. "All right, Judy,--let Betty go instead, if she likes," agreed the Corporal. So Betty ran swiftly away while the other scouts resumed their coaxings to draw Jake away from the log. Julie now started to break away through the bush to get the dog, and several of the girls followed closely at her heels. When they reached the place where they had seen something move, they also saw tracks in the soft soil. "It really is a wild animal," said Julie, excited at sight of the footprints. "But what? Do you know?" asked Judith. "No, but it must be a beaver--or a fox. I don't know which," confessed Julie. But they couldn't get at Jake. He was racing excitedly up and down on the log, his nose close to the strangely odorous scent, and all the commands and persuasions from the scouts failed to make the least impression on him. His nervous short yelps showed how keen he was to have a face-to-face bout with the animal. Julie tried to step on the leash, but he dragged her foot so that she suddenly sat down violently on the ground. Then he nosed under the grass that hung over the brook, and finally swam over to the other side. There he stood and watched nervously, but the girls could not get him back again. "Talk about his minding! Why, he's the cussedest dog I ever saw!" complained Julie, as she got up and shook her clothes free of the briars. "There's no use standing in this baking sun to look at Jake standing on the other bank!" exclaimed Joan, angrily eying the disobedient dog. "We'll go back to the shady trail and watch for Gilly," said Julie, starting back to join the Captain. But they kept calling to Jake as they retraced their steps. When they got back to the slight elevation where Mrs. Vernon and Amy had waited, anxiously watching results, they saw Jake make a leap and swim quickly back across the brook to the log. "He must have seen or heard something that time," whispered Hester. "Yes, 'cause he's stretched out on that log nervously wagging his tail with his eyes glued on something," admitted Amy. Then they caught their breath. The scouts saw a movement in the green leaves at the end of the log and then--Jake was creeping stealthily across that log, as if he also saw what he wanted to pounce upon. "Oh, oh! Jake's got it! He's jumped upon it!" screamed Julie, frantically. "Why, it's a great big tomcat! They're fighting!" cried Hester, too excited to stand still, but jumping up and down. "A cat! Gilly hasn't a cat that color!" declared Joan. "Girls!" fairly hissed Julie. "I bet it's a wildcat--and it will kill Jake as sure as anything!" "No, no! Oh, girls, I just saw it, too! It's a skunk! Run, run--for your lives!" cried Mrs. Vernon, turning to run up the trail towards the bungalow. But several of the scouts would not desert the dog. He had carried the skunk off its feet with his unexpected leap upon it, and the two rolled and fought madly for supremacy. The leash, instead of tripping Jake, got tangled in the skunk's legs, and both animals rolled back and forth. The enraged beast fired the deadly fluid to blind her antagonist, but it drenched the fallen tree only. Then Jake caught a grip on her throat and shook her head; still she was game and kept on struggling. Again they rolled over together, the skunk trying to get to the brink of the water, where she would manage to roll them both in. But Jake understood that motive, too, and braced his feet against the stones in their way. A second volley of the ill-smelling spray from the skunk struck at random, and then Jake gave her neck another sudden shake. This time it was effective, and the head suddenly hung limp. Jake had broken her neck, and was the victor! He now took great pains to drag the trophy through the brush to present to his friends in the roadway. The leash caught several times and almost snapped his own neck, and the skunk was heavy, but he managed to drag it along. When Julie saw his intent she screamed and warned the girls to flee! And in running up the trail they met Mr. Gilroy, who had been summoned by half-crazed Betty's crying, "Jake and the beaver are killing each other!" Mr. Gilroy did not stop to hear what Julie tried to gasp, but he ran down and saw Jake bringing the skunk out into the pathway. "To heel! to heel, Jake!" shouted Mr. Gilroy, holding his nose when the dog tried to jump upon him in the ecstasy of having achieved such a great deed. "What shall we do with him? He can't sleep at Dandelion camp to-night," wailed the girls, as they, too, held their noses. "I'll have to take him back to the barn and have Hiram turn the hose on him for twenty-four hours." "Isn't there a reward for skunks in the country?" now asked the Captain. "Not only a reward, but the pelts are valuable since they became so fashionable," remarked Mr. Gilroy, complacently. "Well, Jake's earned his keep to-day, then," declared Judith. "But it will cost more than the skunk brings to pay for the nine hundred and ninety-nine bottles of _fleur-de-lis_ toilet water Gilly will have to use to change Jake's scent!" laughed Julie. CHAPTER NINE LESSONS IN TRACKING "Well, scouts! That shows us how little we know about wild animal's tracks," remarked Mrs. Vernon, after Jake had been made to go back to the bungalow, and the Troop went on to camp. "I could have sworn that skunk's footprints were a coon's or a fox's,--or something big!" exclaimed Julie, trying to justify her mistake. "To me, the tracks in the soil looked like a lynx's, or something," added Joan, hoping to cover the ignominy of having unearthed a skunk without knowing the animal. "Isn't there some sort of book that will teach us how to recognize tracks, girls?" asked Hester. "Is there, Verny? Maybe we can get one at the bungalow," added Julie. "I don't know of any at this moment, but Mr. Gilroy surely will know," replied the Captain. So they all went to the bungalow the next morning to inquire after Jake's scent, and also to borrow any books on the subject they had discussed. "Yes, I have several books, and let me tell you they are precious, too. There are but few on this subject, and the one I consider the best was compiled by Ernest Seton-Thompson under great difficulties. He had to gather all information from plaster casts made in the tracks themselves, or from sketches, or from camera pictures taken on the spot. "As every different animal leaves a different track, there are many illustrations necessary in such a work, and that makes the book most desirable and also very expensive. But it is great fun to study the pictures and then try to recognize the tracks in the woods." "We haven't found any about camp," said Judith, regretfully. "There must be all sorts of tracks there, but you don't know how to find them. Now, if you want to study this book and then practice early some morning, I'll come down and help find the tracks," Mr. Gilroy said. "Oh, great! Will you come to-morrow morning?" asked the girls. "Hadn't we better study the book first, scouts, and let Gilly know when we are ready to go tracking?" suggested the Captain. So for a time every one was busy reading the book and trying to discover a track in the woods near camp. But Julie laughed as she said, "It isn't likely that a wild animal will prowl close to our camp at night. We'll have to hunt one some distance away." Mr. Gilroy overheard the remark as he came down the trail. "Sometimes the animals will come quite close to camp just to find out what it is that is intruding on their forest domain." "Well, then, I wish they'd hurry and come here!" declared Judith. "When you are ready to hunt tracks, I'll arrange some baits around your camp grounds; and the next morning I'll vow you'll see that you've had callers while you slept. So quiet are they that you won't hear them, either," said Mr. Gilroy. "We are ready to hunt now, Gilly. We know everything in the book and are crazy to test it," said Joan, eagerly. "Then I'll tell you what we might do. I was going over to Grey Fox Camp, but if you girls will deliver a message for me, I will go home and attend to the bait I spoke of. Hiram and I will do the rest." "All right--what do you want us to say to the boys?" agreed the scouts. "Now, listen! Tell them that I want them to start out at dawn in the morning and hunt up all the tracks they can trace about their camp. Then to-morrow afternoon they are to come over here with their reports and have a match with you girls. The side showing the best results and most interesting experience shall have a prize. How does it strike you?" Mr. Gilroy glanced at the pleased faces as he concluded. "Fine! Do they know much about tracks?" returned Julie. "Oh, yes, but then you must understand that they have been scouting for more than four years. Tell them that this is your first summer in a genuine forest camp, and they need not expect you to accomplish wonders. Then you girls must turn in and do your best!" laughed Mr. Gilroy. The scouts were most enthusiastic, and gaily agreed to follow Mr. Gilroy's suggestions. When they were ready to hike over the crest, the Captain said, "We may as well invite the boys to supper to-morrow and make a party of it." "That will be splendid. And I'll contribute my quota to the dinner instead of eating it at home," added Mr. Gilroy. "We may have quail or partridge for dinner if we track the birds carefully," suggested Joan, giggling. "Venison steaks are better," hinted Mrs. Vernon. "What's the matter with bear steaks, while we're about it? They're said to be gamier in flavor," laughed Julie. "We'll have all three, and serve a ten-course dinner to the boys," added Ruth. With light banter the scouts left Mr. Gilroy where the trails diverged,--they to cross the crest and invite the boys over for supper the next day, and Mr. Gilroy to go home to find the "bait." Dandelion Camp was abandoned for a long time that day, and it was too late in the afternoon when the scouts returned, to ask what had been done in the woods during their absence; but a great deal had taken place there, as Hiram and his master could have told had they been so inclined. Even Jake could have testified to mysterious actions, and many queer maneuvers of familiar animals from the barnyard, but the girls never asked _him_. Their faith in Mr. Gilroy was sublime! While the Dandelioners sat eating their camp supper, they discussed the boys they had visited that day. "I declare! I wonder if we ever _will_ know as much about the woods as those Grey Fox boys do," sighed Hester, taking a bite of baked potato. "Sure! We know almost as much as they do already," bragged Joan. "They gave us a lovely luncheon--and all with nothing to do it with," added Judith. "And it's up to us, girls, to give them a dinner that will make their eyes pop out to-morrow!" declared Ruth. "Let's plan it now, and do as much towards it as possible, then we can give that much extra time to tracking," suggested Julie. "And, scouts! I want you to display every bit of fine work you have done since we've been in camp, and all the work we did at camp last summer, as well, and brought with us this year," advised the Captain. "Yes, we don't want those boys to think we don't know a thing! The stuff we've made is so different from what they have, too," admitted the leader. So the evening was employed in arranging many exhibits to impress the visitors the following afternoon. Then the scouts rolled into bed. "Verny, you'd better set the alarm clock for four in the morning," called Julie, the last thing. "Yes, we want to be up and ready to start when Gilly comes for us," added Joan, the Corporal. "All right. Go to sleep now, or you'll all over-sleep," laughed the Captain from her tent. But there was no need of an alarm clock. The girls were up half an hour before it rang, and were impatiently waiting for the arrival of their instructor in tracking. Some of the scouts had gone into the bushes to begin a search, but had found nothing. It took but a few moments after Mr. Gilroy arrived to outline his plans for the work and fun. "We will scatter in couples to hunt for any sort of track whatever. The first couple that discovers any genuine track must call out, then we all will run and study it for what it is, or where it leads to. Now, pair off, scouts, but the Captain and I will follow at a distance and hurry to the first pair who find a track." "There are nine of us--how about the odd one?" asked Julie. "Let the three youngest go together," returned the Captain. So Amy, Betty and Judith hunted in trio. It was a "still hunt" for a time, since every one was too intent on finding a track to speak. Most of the scouts took to the dense bushes and woods, but the Leader sought in a clearing and was the first to summon the others. "Oh, come, every one! We've found a great big track!" called Julie, as she and her companion knelt to inspect the prints. Every one raced wildly to the clearing, and, sure enough, there were hoof prints distinctly marked in the soil. The trail led across the clearing into the dense forest. "Aren't they big?" excitedly asked Joan. "They're made by a deer!" said Julie, boastfully. "Are they, Gilly?" asked the girls as the Judge came up. He pretended to study them carefully, and then said: "I shall have to wait and compare them with those in the book." "Maybe it is a reindeer?" suggested Betty, eagerly. "Mercy no! We don't have reindeers south of the Pole!" declared her sister. "Look here, girls! This creature only had two legs--it left only two hoofmarks, one for each side," cried Judith now. "Then I know what it was! It was that familiar animal that carries a pitchfork, smells of sulphur and is known to have hoofs," retorted Julie, making them all laugh merrily. "I'm sure I have no desire to trail _him_!" said the Captain, holding up both hands as if to ward off such a danger. "Let him go to his lair in peace!" "All joking aside, girls, this is a queer track--only two feet instead of four. Let's follow and see where it goes," suggested Mr. Gilroy. So they trailed the plainly visible tracks, and after a distance, Julie said: "Whatever it is, it couldn't have traveled so far as this if it was a cripple. It just _couldn't_ walk on two hind legs all this way." Mr. Gilroy had to laugh loudly at this, but he said, "No, but don't give up hope! You may stumble right over the prostrate buck." But the trail now crossed itself several times, and the scouts wondered which way the two-legged creature finally went, for all tracks were obliterated after that criss-cross place in a tiny clearing. The Corporal was determined to pick it up again somewhere, so she finally came out to the trail that ran from the camp to the bungalow. Here she wandered up and down for a short distance, and then spied the tracks again. "Oh, I've got him again. He goes right up this trail," so she followed. The others followed at a distance, and then she shouted, "He prowled around Gilly's house, too, last night, for I see the hoofmarks here." Julie would have gone after the tracks to the right "lair," but Hiram came forward from the barnyard to meet her. He had heard her call to the others, and offered a solution to the problem. "I seen them tracks this mornin', too, Miss Julie, and I'm sure that animal come to the barnyard las' night to feed offen the hay and corn he could find around there." "Oh, really! Would one do that?" asked Julie, amazed. "Sure he would, if he was a deer. An' them tracks ain't no grizzly, er fox, er other critter, you know." "No; of course, it is a deer, as one can see by the tracks. But I'm sorry we have to end in such an ordinary place as the barnyard," sighed Julie. "I see'd some queer tracks down by that log where Jake caught the skunk," now hinted Hiram. That was enough! In another moment every scout was bounding down the trail in order to reach the spot first and win honor by knowing the track correctly. Hester found these tracks first, and shouted to her friends, "This has small cloven feet, but there are only two legs, also! Now and then you can see where one track looks as if a hind foot had broken in on another one!" "Oh, girls! That explains that other two-footed animal!" now exclaimed Julie, quickly. "What, what?" demanded every one eagerly. "Most likely the deer stepped daintily with its hind feet directly in the same track made by its forefeet. It said something about that in the book, you know." "Do you think that is it, Gilly?" now asked several anxious voices. "Exactly! I was hoping you'd find that out," agreed he. "Well, does this creature show any unusual tendencies, girls, by which you can recognize it?" laughed Mrs. Vernon. "Not a thing! It starts from the trail and goes right through the brush where we broke a way that day the skunk was killed, and it stopped to question nothing. It must have been in a hurry to get a drink," explained Joan. The trail plainly led to the brook, and ended there. No sign of anything going back again could be found, although the girls looked carefully over the entire place. Then Julie thought she saw something in the soft soil upon the opposite bank. To make sure, she waded through the shallow but swiftly running water, and there, on the steep bank, she saw the tracks again. "Ha! I found 'em! plain as day. Come and follow!" called she. And off she started. Not more than a dozen yards along the top of the bank she found the tracks go down again; and through the brook she went, up the other side, and back to the brush-clearing on a new trail, following the cloven-footed tracks. Out on the hard trail they were lost. "Now, that makes two I've trailed and lost. It's a shame!" cried Julie, stamping her foot. "'Better to have trailed and lost than never to have found at all,'" misquoted Mrs. Vernon, laughingly. "If the first one was a deer, this second one must have been a little fawn," said Judith. "Is there any other animal that wears hoofs?" asked Ruth, of no one in particular. Now, Mr. Gilroy must have dreaded the reply, for he quickly changed the subject. "How many of you brought the plaster and bottle of water?" Every one had. "Well, why not make a little cast of both the tracks you do not recognize and then compare them with those in the book when we go back to camp?" This sounded fine, so the scouts were soon busy making casts of the tracks. When hard, they were handed to the Captain and Mr. Gilroy to carry carefully until they all reached camp. Quite near the camp ground Hester made a discovery. "Oh, come and see! Here is something with toes. As big as a wildcat, or maybe a little bear!" Yes, there were toes in this animal's tracks--as plain as could be. So the scouts guessed every animal known, excepting the coyote and water-loving creatures. After many futile suggestions, they made a plaster cast of these tracks also. "I'm going to carry this load back to camp, girls, and be ready for the next one you give me," announced Mr. Gilroy, starting to go down the trail. The next two tracks, one that of a large-toed animal and the other of one whose tracks showed how the hair grew down low on the hind legs,--for the hair showed in several of the imprints made of plaster,--strangely ended near the bungalow, and on the other side of the hard trail again, they ran as far as the barnyard. "I never saw the beat of it! Any one would think Gilly hung the bait on the barn door to entice the animals here," said Julie, who was angry at winding up at such a place three times running. Mr. Gilroy had to laugh in spite of himself. "Say, where did you put that bait, anyway, Gilly?" demanded the scout leader, watching the man skeptically. "Where we knew it would attract the best results." "Gilly, I verily believe you are hoaxing us!" cried Julie. Mrs. Vernon smiled at her bright scout, but Mr. Gilroy shook his head protestingly. "Why should I hoax any one? I was laughing at the way you brave scouts dodged when Joan said the animal they lost might be crouching on a bough of the trees." "No, that wasn't what made you laugh." Then Julie went over and held a secret conference with her corporal and Ruth, and they, grinning, urged her to do as she suggested. So Julie took a sample of the different casts made in the tracks, and left the others engaged in finding new and intricate tracks. Mr. Gilroy and the Captain were not taken into the three scouts' confidence, but they must have suspected where Julie proposed going, for soon after she had gone Mrs. Vernon said: "Girls, if we expect to entertain the Grey Fox boys at dinner this afternoon, we'd better go back now and begin work." "Without a clue to any wild animal we tracked?" sighed Judith. "Oh, yes, Judy--we've got some fine clues, and by the time we're at camp and have our books out, Julie will be back with proofs! Come on," was Joan's assurance to the girls. On the way, the scouts discussed the last track they had discovered. "I was sure it was a crow's," asserted Amy. "No, it was more like a chicken-hawk's," Hester added. "There wouldn't be any chicken-hawk around here in these woods," said Joan. "Maybe it was the American Eagle," laughed Mr. Gilroy. "Yes, it got tired of sitting on the flagpole where the colors have hung for four days without being taken in at night, as they should be," remarked the Captain. "Dear me, Verny, there is so much to remember in camp. We always remember the flag after we are in bed at night," complained Ruth. "The Orderly will have to appoint a flagman for each day after this," said Mrs. Vernon. They finally reached camp, and had a light luncheon ready before Julie returned. She came down the trail sprightly, with one hand holding something behind her, and singing as she came. "Where have you been, Julie?" asked several of the scouts. "Did you find out what you went for?" asked others. "Yep! I learned that we have among us the queerest sort of creature, girls. It really walks on two legs, holds its head upright, and belongs to the fox class. I tracked it right to our midst," laughed Julie. The scouts seemed perplexed, and Julie, too full of her discoveries to tease very long, said, "His name is 'Foxy Grandpa,' and you all know him well!" Every eye glanced at Mr. Gilroy, and he laughingly replied, "Why do you all seem to think I am that animal?" "Because you are, Gilly!" retorted Julie. "And I'll prove it now, to every one's satisfaction." "First, then: Did Hiram miss any calves or pigs or other domestic animals from his barnyard yesterday?" Mr. Gilroy threw up both hands in submission when he saw the knowing look in the leader's eyes. "Because here are the molds we made of the tracks found in the forest, girls. And here are molds I made of the heifer, a pig, the Great Dane, and a chicken, at the bungalow. Can you find any difference?" Both the Captain and Mr. Gilroy laughed, but the scouts gasped in unbelief, "Would Gilly do such a thing?" Not one bit of difference was found when comparing the molds of each animal, and then Mr. Gilroy had to tell how he did it. Of course, the scouts laughed mirthlessly, for they were thinking of how those Grey Fox boys would jeer at their woodcraft. But Julie now brought out in front, the hand which had held something behind her. "Here is the hawk--or American Eaglet. I brought it with me for dinner to-night. To Gilly it will be crow-pie, but to us it will be spring chicken." And the Leader tossed a dead chicken upon the grass. Then she added: "That's what happens to all 'critters' that trespass on our land. Hiram tells me that when a farmer catches an animal on his land, he generally holds it for ransom, or for food for himself, so we have not fared so badly, scouts, in this day's work! "Behold the other trophies coming! I took them because they broke the law and trespassed on our estates last night." Julie waved a hand dramatically towards the trail, and every one turned to look. Hiram was slowly advancing toward camp, leading with one hand a fractious pig, and with the other hand dragging an unwilling half-grown heifer on a chain. Jake was jumping about and barking excitedly as they came over and stood like prisoners at the bar. "Mr. Foxy Grandpa," began Julie, as severely as she could, "because of your crime of misleading trusting scouts into a snare, I pronounce this judgment upon you, and therefore levy upon your property to satisfy the judgment. "This wild deer and its little fawn shall henceforth be the property of the injured ones--insulted past all forgiveness by your fraud. And the innocent victims used to perpetrate your schemes, being as free from guile as the scouts themselves, shall dwell henceforth together in peace and tranquillity!" Every one laughed heartily at the dénouement for it was so like Julie; but Mrs. Vernon added, "Julie you speak exactly like the millennial times, when the lion and the lamb shall dwell in love and peace together." "The lion will dwell with the lamb, all right, but the lamb will be the _piece_ inside the lion," added Mr. Gilroy; "just as this pig will live in camp! Such a life as it will lead you!" "No good talking 'sour grapes', now, Gilly," advised Julie, wisely. "The calf and the pig remain, no matter what sort of life they lead us." "What can you expect to do with two such pets?" asked Mr. Gilroy, who was honestly amazed at the scouts' unexpected appropriation. "First, build a pen for them, and second, have veal and pork before we leave for home!" retorted Julie. She then ordered all the scouts to fall to work and construct a temporary shelter for the two creatures. Mr. Gilroy seemed too surprised to comment, and when Hiram finally delivered the calf and pig into Julie's custody, Mr. Gilroy turned to her and said, "Do you _really_ mean to keep the beasts, here in camp?" "Why, of course! Why should we go to all this fuss for nothing?" "Well, I can't see, yet, why you should?" When the calf and pig were temporarily tied to a tree, where they seemed as much at home as back in the barnyard, Julie said, "By the way, Gilly, what did you call the pets when they were yours?" "They have never been christened, because I waited for an opportune time. It is here now!" returned Mr. Gilroy, picking up one of the bottles of water that had done duty to make plaster casts that morning. He held it over the calf's head and poured half of its contents out while he said solemnly: "Dear little deer, henceforth you shall be known as Julia, in honor of the intrepid scout that captured you, single-handed. "Likewise, this sweet little fawn, known by its tracks through the wilderness, shall be named Ant-and-ett because of its peculiar habits,--busy as an ant and eats all that comes its way!" Then the rest of the water was emptied over the pig's head. "_Antoinette_ it shall be, now and forever," declared Julie, while the other scouts laughed uproariously. But the two names stuck, and thereafter the calf was "Julia" and the pig was generally called by the name of "Anty." After the christening Mr. Gilroy beckoned for the Captain to join him where the girls could not over-hear his conversation. "You don't suppose the girls are in earnest about keeping the pig and calf at camp, do you?" asked he, anxiously. "Yes, certainly," laughed Mrs. Vernon. "You don't know girls of this age, or you'd understand that they enjoy all these silly pranks thoroughly, and really, they act as safety-valves." CHAPTER TEN THE GIRL SCOUTS ENTERTAIN "Now, Gilly, you've got to help us build the sheds for Julia and Anty, or go home until its time for the party," exclaimed the Leader, calling to the still-wondering man. "If we're to have any dinner ready for the Grey Foxes; I think Hiram and Gilly ought to do the building of the sheds, and let us get busy with the cooking," added the Corporal. "Yes, that's a better plan," admitted Julie. "Come on, now, Gilly, don't shirk your duty!" So Mr. Gilroy and his man were set to do construction work, while the scouts ran to and fro, fetching and carrying, arranging exhibits, baking, cooking, and what-not, that Dandelion Troop need not take a "back seat" in comparison with the Grey Foxes. "Verny," whispered Julie, soon after the two men were sawing and nailing at the sheds, "it's as plain as the nose on my face, that Gilly thinks those boys are far cleverer than we girls." "What makes you think so, Julie?" asked Joan, who was passing at the time. "Never mind, now, Jo, but we've just got to show him, as well as his boys, that girl scouts know a heap more than they talk about. That's why I'm anxious to make a 'ten-strike' with dinner!" "It is too bad we were tricked with false tracks," said Mrs. Vernon. "I don't believe those boys would have known any better, under the circumstances, but of course, they won't admit it." "Forget it!" said Julie, shortly. "And listen to me. Take all the contents of our boxes out upon the cots, and call upon all the girls you need to help in the work. Turn the packing cases upside down and cover them with some of our embroidered covers; then arrange to the best advantage, everything we can show for our past year in scoutdom. "Try to group our exhibits according to their relationship with each other, but leave all the Indian pots and dishes scattered about carelessly as if we were accustomed to using them daily. The birchbark baskets and articles can be hung about on tents or trees where they will show off best,--but don't let it look as if the stunt was done on purpose for this occasion--see?" Joan smiled. "Yes, I see! Leave it to the Girl Scouts!" So, although there was plenty of activity before, now there was no end of rushing and laughing and planning between the scouts. The pots and dishes Julie spoke of were left to Mrs. Vernon to place, and she accomplished the task of studying carefully the apparent carelessness of leaving the vessels about. These Indian pots and dishes were the most interesting things the scouts had made. It was simple work, and took but little time and no cost to produce the results. And most effective they were. They took a lump of clay and worked out all the hard bits, and sticks or stones, then shaped it for the bottom of a bowl or pot. In its first step it looked like a flat saucer, then it was left an hour or two, according to the thickness of the clay, to dry well. After that the sides were built up on this saucerlike bottom. It was shaped the desired form, and patted into the thickness required, then smoothed out nicely, both inside and out, and again dried as before. Now it was baked in a hot fire for several hours, so that when it was cool it was a fireproof bowl. The only trouble the girls had had with this interesting art was the carelessness of a few of them in cooling the dishes too quickly. They found the clay invariably cracked when the pots were too quickly cooled after taking them from the fire. But by slow degrees of cooling, which took about three hours, they came out perfect. The scouts had decorated their pots as they felt inclined, so that they presented a varied and pleasing array as they stood about camp, in places where the eye would see them to their best advantage. Some were painted with wood-dyes, and others were etched in relief patterns. When the Captain had finished her task, she silently drew the attention of the scouts to the groups, and they all stood and smiled proudly at their handiwork. "We didn't see anything like that at Grey Fox Camp," bragged Judith to Joan. "No sir! Nor did they have a cookstove like ours! Alec may have made a roasting-fan such as we never heard of before, but we can show him a thing or two when he comes over!" exclaimed Joan. At this moment Julie was heard calling the Orderly. "How about that chicken? Some one's got to draw it so it can be cooked. It ought to go on the fire in another half hour." At this Mr. Gilroy called out, "You're not going to eat my chicken, are you?" "Sure! That's why I had Hiram wring its neck. I knew the poor thing wouldn't object to being cooked if once its breath was gone," laughed Julie. "Dear me! It's my turn to draw the fowl and I hate it!" complained Ruth. "S-sh!" warned Julie, waving a frying-pan at Ruth, "it is for the Cause of Woman this time, so don't cry, Ruthy!" "I'll help do it, Ruth," Betty now offered kindly. "I know how you dislike the work, but 'Liza showed me how to do it so that it really isn't half bad." Betty poured scalding water over the chicken, and the feathers came off easily. Then she slit the throat and breast and removed the entrails without causing any repulsion in Ruth. When it was ready, Ruth admitted that she knew she could do the work the next time without a qualm. The cookstove the scouts were so proud of was a remarkable affair--even Mr. Gilroy admitted that. Mrs. Vernon had discovered a heap of fine flat stones, such as a surveyor uses for his "corners," and these were used. The largest stones were placed against a tree that would act as draught to the fire, and the mound was built up until it was a convenient height to use without bending uncomfortably low, as is necessary with campfires. Through the center of this mound was a well, and on four sides of the rounded mound were windowlike openings backed with tin; in these niches various pots or pans could be kept hot while other viands were cooking on top of the stove. The top was made of a sheet of thin stove-iron which the Captain had brought from home, and near the bottom of the mound was a tipping-stone upon which the fire was laid. When the fire was out, its ashes could be removed by tipping the flat stone over and letting the cinders fall to the bottom, where they could be raked away quite easily. This opening provided draught for the fire, and at the back, from the fire-stone, an opening had been left, and here to several feet above the top of the stove, a length of stove-pipe carried all smoke out and above the heads of the scouts. The girls had also built a fireless cooker in the ground just beside their stove, where fish, or any article needing steady heat, could be placed. This cooking-pit was constructed after the plan adopted by most scouts, and described fully in the manual. While Ruth and Betty were busy preparing the chicken, Mrs. Vernon built a good fire in the stove, and had several of the girls heat the stones in the fireless cooker, to be ready for use. Mr. Gilroy had donated several fine lake trout that day, so these were cleaned and washed and placed in the cooker-pit, where they would need no watching but be done to a turn when wanted. The chicken was cut up for a fricasee, and diced onions and potatoes were prepared to add to the boiling liquid about an hour before serving. This would provide not only soup for the first course, but chicken with dumplings for a third course. They proposed having the fish with butter sauce for the second course. Just as Julie added the diced potatoes, Hester exclaimed, "Oh, Jule! what did you do that for? Those duck-potatoes were meant to make the boys' eyes bulge!" "What duck-potatoes? I never touched them!" declared Julie, defensively. "Didn't you cut them up and use them just now?" "I should say not! After all the work we had in finding and digging them! Why, they ought to be preserved--not eaten," laughed the Leader. "Thank goodness!" sighed Hester, in such evident relief that every one laughed sympathetically. "Who's doing the Indian cucumbers?" called the Corporal. "I am!" answered Judith. "They're all peeled and sliced ready to serve. And Amy gathered the dandelion greens to go with them." "Fine! Verny is making a mayonnaise to use with the salad. My! Won't those boys have the wind taken out of their sails when they see the duck potatoes and Indian cucumbers!" giggled Joan. Mr. Gilroy had not missed much of all this whispering and joyous confusion, and he chuckled to himself as he and Hiram finished nailing the last boards on the sheds and turned Julia into her new home. The small pigsty was soon completed, and then a fence was built about it, but it was not calculated to keep a full-grown pig in bounds; it was strong enough for Antoinette, however, at that time. Before the pig-pen was quite finished, the scouts heard the whistles and calls from the Grey Fox boys, as they hiked over the crest trail. So they fluttered about anxiously to see that not an item on the programme was forgotten. Hiram was on his way to the bungalow, and Mr. Gilroy had hurried down to the lake to wash up and make his dinner toilet, when the boys came gaily into camp. After greeting their hostesses, the Grey Fox scouts looked around. "Well, guess you girls are planning to spread yourselves for dinner, eh?" asked Alec, jocularly. "Oh, nothing more than usual; we live high every day," returned Julie, tossing her head. Nothing more was said about dinner just then, but a loud call from "Julia" drew all attention to her shed. The boys stared in surprise at the two buildings they had never noticed before. "Isn't that a pig--in that pen?" asked Ned, amazedly. "No, it's Antoinette--our latest girl scout!" giggled Amy. The boys laughed, for the name struck them as awfully funny for a pig. Then they walked from Anty's pen to the shed, which had a door swung on leather hinges, but it was closed. "And what sort of scout do you lock up in here?" asked Bob, condescendingly. "Bob Veal!" retorted Julie, causing every one to roar at the questioner. Bob flushed, but walked over to the stove where the Captain stood stirring the dumplings in the chicken soup. "That's a fine stove, Captain," ventured he. "Yes, it is something like the one we built last year in camp. That was so convenient we decided to have another this summer. Wouldn't you boys like to examine it closely?" Thereupon the Grey Foxes did examine it closely, much to their advantage on useful ideas of kitchen equipment. Then they saw the fireless cooker that was in use for the time being; so they passed on to inspect the various birchbark hanging-baskets filled with flowers; the rustic fern-boxes, and all the useful articles the scouts had manufactured of birchbark and acorns. "It takes a girl to do fancywork, all right. Now, we boys are not gifted that way, you see, but we can make other things, instead," remarked Alec, bestowing a male's compliments on feminine accomplishments. "Just what can you make, or have done, that we girls are not able to do?" demanded Julie. "Oh, I wasn't personal in any way,--I just meant that it is quite natural for women to do the light things while men have to look after the business of life!" "Well, the quicker you open your eyes to facts, and see that we women of the present age are fast outstripping the men in _every_ calling, the better it will be for your own good!" said Julie. "Just glance around, boys, and tell us if you can make a better showing for _your_ four years," added Joan, waving her hand at the various exhibits. It happened that the girls had each been given a cue by Julie, so that when the Grey Fox boys came into camp, Judith was found sweeping carefully with a camp-made broom, Amy and Betty were placing a tabletop upon its legs and then starting to set the table, and the other scouts were busy with other unusual things. Now Dick walked over to Judith. "How did you know you could make a broom like this?" said he. "Why, this is an old one made the first day we came to camp. You ought to see our new ones. They are fine!" Dick examined the broom, and called Alec over. "They can make brooms, all right, Alec!" said he, showing the article in question. It was made of long hickory shavings, well bound about a good handle, and promised to outlast any dozen store brooms. "But why sweep this grass,--that's foolish," said Alec. "No, because this is where we will sit about the table. We always sweep away the crumbs or trash that fall during mealtime, so the ants and other insects won't annoy us. This morning, however, we were in such a hurry to get out with Gilly, that we forgot the usual routine work in camp," explained Judith. The two boys exchanged glances, but Judith saw them. Alec then said, smilingly, "Oh, yes! How did that track-hunt come off? I suppose you scouts knew every animal, eh?" Judith now realized that Mr. Gilroy had had the whole joke planned out with the Grey Fox boys, and that the boys were only waiting to have a good old laugh on the girls. So she deliberately told a lie,--fervently praying that it be forgiven for the "Cause of Women." She glanced roguishly up at Alec, and winked one eye. "Wasn't it too funny for anything,--the way we led Gilly about by the nose?" The boys stared in surprise for a moment, then Dick said, "What do you mean? Didn't you scouts go out at dawn with Gilly to study tracks?" "Sure! But didn't you boys know about the joke we made up on him about those tracks? That's why he is so late to dinner." "Tell us about it?" eagerly begged both boys. "Oh! I can't. I thought you knew something about it or you wouldn't have grinned the way you did. I'm so sorry I let the cat out of the bag, for likely, our Leader wants to tell you the story while we all are at dinner," cried Judith, the picture of regret. "Oh, come on and tell! Now that you've said so much!" coaxed Dick. "Well, you boys walk around and look over our work and I'll run and ask Julie if I may tell you the story," whispered Judith, giggling, and running over to the Leader's side. When Julie heard the truth from Judith, she was furious, but she soon saw that she must thrust anger behind her, and plan some clever way to reverse the joke and make it fall upon the originator. In fact, at that moment, the scouts wished all kinds of dreadful things upon their benefactor, Mr. Gilroy. He, however, unaware of their ire, was walking up the trail from the lake to the camp-site. And the boys, who were told to amuse themselves for a time, were certainly finding more good ideas put into useful form at that camp than they ever dreamed of. The large square table was constructed of the boards removed from a piano-case which Gilly had at the barn. These were all nailed to a frame and furnished a strong, heavy top that could be placed, at will, on the four sturdy posts that were driven into the ground. These table-legs were only fifteen inches above the ground, so one could sit on the grass and conveniently use the top. The four boys met at a large rustic shelf-cupboard, constructed of short-length boards taken from a cereal box, and placed so as to make four shelves. Two sides were made of boards that came from one of the packing-cases from the city. This cupboard stood against a great pine tree that furnished the backing, and on the shelves were the array of lanterns and candlesticks made and used in camp. "Gee! They've got the bottle-neck holder, the tin-can lantern, and all the rest. It seems they know the scout stunts, all right," whispered Ned. "Yes, and look at these candles! Do you suppose they made them in camp? They look like hand-dipped products," added Alec, examining the tallow candles. "We won't let on that we're curious, but we'll find out from Gilly just how they made these candles," suggested Bob. From the shelves that held candles and some clay ornaments the boys wandered over to the sun-dial. "It's better than the one we made," admitted Ned. "Humph! So it is," said Alec, reluctantly, but willing to be just. "Whoever did that burnt-wood etching around the edge sure made a fine job of it. And the numerals are very good," added Bob. "Gilly said Ruth is the artist of the Troop," said Dick. But the Grey Foxes never found out that the Indian Clock had been made during the previous winter when there was ample time to spend over such a work. The large wooden slab was sent to camp with many other highly decorative things made the same winter. Mr. Gilroy now joined the boys and offered to act as official guide in viewing everything. So interested were the boys in all they saw that they temporarily forgot about the joke of the tracking. "Come and see the Indian willow beds the scouts made the first day in camp," said Mr. Gilroy, boastfully, now that he wanted to impress the boys. So the beds, the weaving looms, the birdhouses here and there, and other things were duly seen and admired. But the exhibit that interested the boys as much as anything that day was the neat and beautiful work done with wild flowers and a deal of patience. There were blue-prints of delicate flowers, as well as shadow-work and pressed and mounted flower-groups. Alec recognized the three-leaved arrow-head, and showed it to the other boys who had never seen it before. This particular specimen was white and waxen in contrast to the indigo-hued paper. The spiderwort was a rich blue with its two large petals rounded, while the third one was tiny and colorless. There was also a purple variety known as "Job's Tears." The wild leek and garlic flowers made dainty blue-prints, scarcely recognizable as coming from such humble family trees as the despised onion. Wild spikenard, with its crown of tiny white flowers, also reproduced beautifully in the blue-print. The Seal of Solomon and purple Twisted Stalk made scraggy pictures easy to identify. Betty had pressed a white trillium that made an imposing picture, retaining all its beauty and lines. The boys had the painted trillium in their collection but had never seen the white one. In the flower collection made by the other scouts were many orchids,--fringed-purple, ragged-fringed, yellow-fringed, and others. Also the Indian pink, the rattlesnake plantain, the pink snake-mouth, monkshood, bloodroot, pitcher plant, and numerous others that formed a wonderful exhibit which it would take a long time to do justice to. While the Grey Foxes were poring over the flower books, Mrs. Vernon came up beside them. "When you boys are through here, we will sit down to dinner, as everything is ready to serve." "Oh, we'll look at the rest of these another time," said Bob, quickly. So the Captain led them over to the table, where the appearance of the festive board caused them to smack their lips. Mr. Gilroy and the Grey Fox boys were seated according to Julie's directions, then the girls all went over to the cookstove. At each place on the table sat a flat clay-made plate that was to do service for many needs. Beside the plate were the birchbark cup to drink water from, a birchbark napkin ring that held a paper napkin, and the usual knife, fork and spoon. In the center of the table stood a lovely fern centerpiece, the holder woven of split willows, and the fern dug up in the woods and transplanted into a tin pail that did not show inside the basket. The fernery was flanked by two other handwoven baskets of sweet-grass. One held the scout-biscuits just baked, while the other was piled high with light little puff-cakes. On either side of the centerpiece stood two large flat clay platters,--one held the Indian cucumber salad, and the other a dandelion salad. "Aren't the girls going to sit down, too?" called Alec. "Yes, but each girl has to serve a boy's soup as well as her own. Then we will sit down," answered Julie. Meantime Joan was whispering anxiously, as each girl held out the clay bowls for soup, "Now remember! Leave the tracking tale to Julie, and agree with her everytime! Don't you dare be caught napping this time!" And as each scout left the stove with her two bowls of soup, she whispered. "No, leave it to me! We'll get the best of Gilly for this joke." The chicken soup was highly praised, and truly it was a good broth and deserved all praise. Then came the fish,--all done to a turn and served piping hot with butter sauce. The Indian cucumber went well with the lake trout, and here the boys had another surprise. "Indian cucumbers! We never knew they grew around here," ventured Alec, but delighting in the salad just the same. "Oh, didn't you? Well, you see, it takes a girl's fancy touches to secure these sort of things. You boys, of course, have to give your time to doing big things," was Julie's sarcastic reply. The third course consisted of the chicken and dumplings, stewed bracken, and a side dish of vegetable that looked for all the world like small potatoes. The boys studied these curiously. "It's quite digestible," laughed Mrs. Vernon. "But be sure to appreciate them,--they are the only Wapitos we've ever found!" declared Joan, proudly. "Wapitos! You don't mean it!" exclaimed Alec, eagerly. "Why, where did you find them?" asked the other boys. "One morning when we were out tracking," said Julie, with a careless manner. Then quickly added, "Oh, Captain, where are the Brussels sprouts? We almost forgot that vegetable." The Orderly jumped up and ran to the stove where, in one of the niches, stood the bowl of charlock hearts, a wild green that tastes exactly like tender sprouts. These are easy to cultivate in a garden, too, and are not as expensive as Brussels sprouts. "My, what a spread this is!" sighed Bob, ecstatically. Every one laughed, for Bob and Anne were the gourmands of the two troops, and were never ashamed to admit when they enjoyed a thing. "Yes, it's some dinner, all right. Made a lot of work, didn't it?" added Alec. "Oh, not so much as usual," returned Julie. "We really had planned a more elaborate affair, but the joke we played on Gilly took longer than we allowed for it, and so we had to scramble the dinner." Julie smiled benignly upon the guests, but they exchanged looks with Mr. Gilroy at the mention of a joke. So she continued: "Because of that joke, you have ordinary chicken for a meat course, whereas I had hoped to give you a real dainty, stewed wild rabbit. But our snares were left unbaited while we planned to come in first on Gilly and his proposed prank. I don't suppose you know a thing about it, do you?" The girls gasped at their Leader's mention of a rabbit snare,--this was the first they knew of such a thing! And since Bunty Grey had taken up his residence nearby their camp, after his recovery from the old trap down on River Bend, not one scout girl could be made to taste rabbit. The boys were keen to hear about the joke on their friend Gilroy, but _he_ wanted to know about rabbits. So he asked: "Where did you set any snares? This is news to me!" "Is it? Why we caught a rabbit in a snare set down by River Bend, but we haven't stewed it yet," returned Julie, smiling angelically at Mr. Gilroy. "Never mind snares, but tell us about the tracking," now urged Alec. "There isn't much to tell--excepting that we let him indulge himself in the belief that he was fooling us," began Julie. "While we were at your camp, to invite you here to-day, Gilly had all his hands turn the barnyard beasts out and led them a dance about our campgrounds, believing we would fall for his little game. "He took so much pains and trouble over the joke, that we hadn't the heart to undeceive him, so we played the game through. "But it was hard work to keep straight faces, wasn't it, girls?" Julie appealed to her companions. "Yes, indeed! And when Julie left us to bring back the proof of his joking, that was best of all," added Joan. "Yes, you see I got him to say that hunters who found a wild animal could claim it, if it was in season, so I went to the barn where I _knew_ our 'wild animals' would be, and not only found them, but caught them, also. Being in season, we claimed them. Thus we turned Gilly's joke on himself, as he sure was amazed to find that we took him at his word, and kept the 'ferocious' beasts!" Julie laughed so heartily that every one joined in, never doubting but that the merriment was natural and genuine. "So that is how we became owners of the calf, the pig, and the nice spring chicken you just finished," added Julie. Mr. Gilroy now cleared his throat to say something in self-defence, but every one laughed loudly again, the boys believing Julie's tale, and the girls hoping to keep up the deception. "Poor dear old Gilly! We renamed him this morning. He is to be Foxy Grandpa hereafter, you know; not alone because he told the Grey Foxes what he was going to do, but because he planned such a beautiful snare and ran into it himself," said Joan. "As if you boys would believe we were 'greenies' in camplife! Why, just look around and see our work! Is there anything here to prove we are such ignoramuses as to believe a calf-track could possibly be a deer-print?" asked Julie, scornfully. "You're right, you girls sure can do scout things," said Alec, admiringly. "This dinner alone would prove it!" exclaimed Bob. "Any one who can find Indian cucumbers and Wapitos, when we boys have hunted and hunted, and never succeeded, is a first-class scout, and no mistake about it!" declared Dick, enthusiastically. So Mr. Gilroy decided not to speak in self-defence any more. The dinner wound up with wild-current tarts, puff-cakes, and coffee made from roots and roasted acorns, pulverized. "Lady Scouts, let me toast you for this wonderful success, not only in culinary art, but also in founding a curious menagerie," said Mr. Gilroy, standing and holding up his coffee before drinking it. "Before we adjourn from this feast, let me ask one question," said Alec, as they prepared to get up from the table. "What was it in that salad dressing that gave such a palatable flavor? I never tasted anything like it before." The scouts smiled with pleasure, and Mrs. Vernon said, "That taste was given by adding a few leaves of burnet to the salad. It was not the dressing; but few people know what a wonderful flavor burnet gives to salad. It would be used more often did chefs know this simple little wildwood fact." While the girls were clearing away the dishes, Mrs. Vernon spoke very seriously to Julie about the tale she told. "You did not tell an absolute untruth, yet you did not voice the truth, because we all _were_ taken in by those tracks!" "But, Verny! surely you wouldn't have these mere males _think_ we were such gullible scouts, would you? It would be a disgrace for the whole organization!" cried Julie. "I never advocate self-righteousness in covering up an error of judgment or knowledge. The Scout Committee on Ideals would not approve of the tale you told to vindicate the 'Cause of Women,' as you claim." "I suppose you are right in your viewpoint, Verny, but it wasn't fair of Gilly to play that prank on us, and tell those boys beforehand, too," pouted Julie. "Well, let it pass this time, Verny, and we'll promise never to be guilty of misappropriating the truth again," said Joan. "And don't give us away to the Grey Foxes!" added Judith. The Captain shook her head in disapproval, but she said nothing more, so the girls ran off to whisper to Mr. Gilroy that he was the cause of a dreadful quarrel! CHAPTER ELEVEN A CANOE TRIP The scouts were so busy with canoeing, swimming, and hiking, during the week following the dinner-party that they saw very little of Mr. Gilroy, although they knew whenever he called at the camp, because he generally brought feed for the calf and pig. These two unusual pets were becoming quite sociable, and would follow the girls around the clearing when meals were being prepared. Jake always went wherever the scouts went, and he particularly enjoyed the long walks. But he ignored the calf and pig completely when in camp. About a week after the Grey Fox boys had visited Dandelion Camp, Mr. Gilroy came down early in the morning. "I have to get up at dawn if I want a word with you scouts, these times," laughed he, as he caught them eating breakfast. "Sit down and have some," Julie invited, making room for him beside her. "Can't--haven't time. I've got an important engagement with the Grey Fox boys, but you were first on my calling list." The girls all halted further progress on the breakfast and listened intently. "What have you plotted, now?" asked Julie. Mr. Gilroy laughed as he remembered the tracking joke. "I'm almost afraid to tell you." But after much coaxing he spoke. "Well, then, I am going on a little fishing trip to Racquette Lake, so I wondered if you scouts wouldn't like to canoe with the party and spend a few days that way?" The girls gave such a chorus of approval that Mr. Gilroy pretended to stop both ears. "Oh, do tell them all about it, Gilly, or we'll be deaf!" begged Mrs. Vernon, laughing at the commotion. So Mr. Gilroy described the itinerary to the great delight of his hearers. "But remember, girls, no extra baggage is allowed. You wear your uniforms, take bathing suits, and sandals, a wide soft hat that will stick to your head, as few toilet requisites as possible; individual eating outfit, blanket and sleeping-bag, fishing tackle, and your powder puffs." The last item caused a jeer, for the girls hadn't thought of beautifiers, other than those Nature presented, since they joined the scout organization. Nor did they need any,--they were all fine and rosy, with perfect complexions and good health. "My Indian, Yhon, is going in a canoe with the cooking outfit and other necessities for so large a party. He is a splendid guide, you know, and knows the country like a book." "What can we do about our pets?" Betty asked, concernedly. "Oh, Jake will go with us, of course, and Julia and Anty will have to depend on Gilly's man for meals. They will learn to appreciate us if we are absent a few days," replied Julie, audaciously. "When did you plan to start?" now asked the Captain. "Day after to-morrow, as early in the morning as we can. That gives you all day to-morrow to get ready and come up to the bungalow for supper at night. Yhon will be ready with the canoes at dawn in the morning, and we start from our boathouse. The canoe-wagon is coming here to-day to carry your three canoes over to First Lake so as to be in good shape for the trip. Yhon will overhaul them all, and look after any caulking or repairs." "Dear me, I can't wait for the time to come!" exclaimed several of the scouts. "And if you become seasick on the voyage, you'll be just as anxious to get back," laughed Mr. Gilroy, causing the girls to giggle in chorus at his ridiculous speech. So on the morning mentioned, a merry crowd of girls and boys followed the Captain and Mr. Gilroy to the boathouse on the lake. Yhon was waiting with everything ready, but it was still dim and misty over the water, as the daylight was not yet strong. Jake instantly jumped into Yhon's canoe as if he knew it paid to be near the larder. Mr. Gilroy arranged the party so that one lightweight member was in each canoe with one of the heavier girls, and one of the boys. He took charge of another canoe with two girls in it, while the Captain managed still another one with two in it. Thus they started in a line, Yhon leading. As they moved noiselessly out from the shadow of the overhanging rocks and foliage, the dew sparkled like silver drops on all the leaves; every now and then a hungry fish would leap up to bite the paddles, and then whisk its tail angrily as it flashed away again. The newly awakened sun had not yet risen high enough to cast its rays upon the lake, and the mountain that threw somber shadows over the face of the lake, still hid the shining of the orb of day. The expectancy and hush that always precedes the bursting forth of shining light, enthralled all the wild creatures in the woods. Yhon had been silently guiding his flock over the water, closely hugging the shore all the way, when the high treble call of a young fawn echoed far over the lake. It was so unexpected that the scouts were startled, but the Indian called over his shoulder, "Li'l deer lose mammy--call her back!" Then, not twenty yards further on, Yhon stopped paddling, and pointed with a long finger towards the shore. There stood the fawn on a rock near the water's edge, its head held high as it gazed with consternation at so many queer things floating on the lake. Mrs. Vernon took a splendid picture of the deer, before a crashing of branches and the rattle of pebbles announced that the doe was leaping to the rescue of her little one. But she could not be seen, as she was wise in woodlore and remained safely screened from men. Possibly she knew that a human carried a death-dealing weapon when he sought her in the forests. The canoes passed through First Lake, then through Second Lake, and at last through Third Lake--all of which were really one large continuous sheet of water. Where Third Lake Creek emptied into the large body of water, Yhon led the canoes close to shore. He knew that the best lake trout were to be caught where the creek emptied, and here he proposed to fish for the dinner supply. "But we don't want dinner, yet, Yhon," called Mrs. Vernon. "We eat on Cedar Islan' but him got no fish dere. Get my fish here," explained Yhon, as he jumped ashore. All were glad of an opportunity to stretch their legs, and then they tried their luck at fishing, also. After a time this became monotonous for the active young ones, and they started up the Creek to adventure. The Third Lake Creek came down over moss-covered rocks, which were held in place by gnarled roots of giant trees. These ancient foresters stood looking benignly down upon the placid waters of the lake, as if watching the play of a little child. Where the Creek swirled out to join Third Lake, the purplish circles made there gradually lost their foaming haste and gently merged into the wavelets of clear cold water. As the scouts climbed up the rugged bank of the Creek, the towering trees were not the only things that watched silently. Although the happy young mortals were deaf and blind to the many alert curious eyes that followed their movements, still those eyes were there, wondering at this daring trespass over their domains. Some of these wildwood inhabitants were furtively anxious, some hostile, but all were curious to follow the movements of these queer creatures. Finally the scouts could not penetrate further, and they retraced their steps. Yhon had caught enough fish for the day's needs, and was ready to continue the trip. From Third Lake Creek he paddled across to the opposite shore and thence through Fourth Lake. They stopped at Skensowane to purchase crackers, candy, and other sweets, while Yhon took on a supply of staples. Cedar Island was at the extreme upper end of Fourth Lake, and long before the scouts saw the green knob standing plainly up from the water, they were hungry enough to eat the grass on the island. So every one assisted with the dinner to facilitate the eating of it. Yhon was one of the best guides in the mountains, and his experience in cooking was unsurpassed; hence the scouts enjoyed an exceptional dinner. When all were ready to continue the trip, Yhon led across from Cedar Island to Inlet, where there was a "carry" of a mile to reach Sixth Lake. "Phew! Carry the canoes a mile in the hot sun!" cried Bob. "That's part of the fun in canoeing," remarked Mr. Gilroy, as they disembarked and prepared to carry. "I'm glad of the change," said Judith. "My knees are all out of joint from sitting with them doubled under me." Thereupon every one declared it a relief to walk and get the kinks out of the leg-muscles. But after a mile in the heat, with canoe and outfit to carry, every one was just as glad to get back and sit down in the canoes. The trip through Sixth and Seventh Lakes was wonderful. The grandeur of the mountains and the marvelous greens of their verdure reflected in the narrow lakes, made the water seem a dark emerald green as clear and transparent as a perfect jewel. Occasionally, faint shadows of birds flying overhead, or deer leaping on the rocks on the banks were reflected in the water as the canoeists silently paddled along, and such entrancing pictures seen in the placid lake thrilled the scouts with delight. Here and there, where a stream rushed down into the lake, the scouts could look up through the wide rifts cleft between the forest-trees, and the eye could follow up where falls tumbled over boulders; or to the higher view, where the blue sky showed a tiny streak between the pines. Once a flight of wild ducks suddenly rose from the lake, quacking noisily. The boys called to Yhon to shoot, but he held up a warning hand to show that this was no season for duck-hunting. In nearing the upper end of Seventh Lake where the inlet empties into it, Yhon called out, "Nudder carry--mile to Eight Lake." But before they reached land, the Captain called for a halt. She wanted to take a snapshot of the picture made by the inlet, seemingly in such a hurry to reach the lake, yet making no noise nor showing any froth in its haste. The Lake seemed to draw its shores close together to hug the Inlet, just as a mother draws her babe to her bosom in love. In small coves on either side of the Inlet were patches of green marsh grass and cattails, the home of the wild ducks which rose to escape the coming of the canoeists. As the faint odorous whiff of marshgrass reached the nostrils of the scouts, they wanted to paddle in and cut cattails, but Yhon said there was no time then. "Plenty time on home trip." Through Eighth Lake to Brown's Inlet Carry was a distance of about two miles, and when they reached shore on Brown's Inlet, Yhon called out, "Nudder carry--mile-half dis time to Brown Tract Inlet." The command to carry began to sound tiresome to the scouts, and they were glad to hear Mr. Gilroy say that this carry would be the last one, as Brown's Tract Inlet brought them right to Racquette Lake where they planned to camp for the night. It was quite late when they reached the lower end of Racquette Lake, because the progress had been slow and safe. Mr. Gilroy had not telephoned for accommodations at any hotel, as they planned to camp at night. But the wind that came with the setting of the sun also threatened a storm during the night, and Mr. Gilroy thought it best to find a place near a large hotel, in case they had to seek shelter. So they paddled to find a grove quite near one of the larger hotels. The scouts were eager to land and get their camp ready before darkness handicapped them, so when within a few yards of land, Hester turned to pull out her blankets. The sudden motion overturned the canoe, and all three occupants went headlong into the water. The frightened screams of the three scouts caused consternation in the others, and many turned around quickly to see what had happened behind them. Thus, two more canoe-loads were unexpectedly emptied into the lake. They were soon out on shore, but drenched and shivering from the cold water. "Now, isn't that the worst thing that could happen to us, at night!" sighed Mrs. Vernon. "We'll have to stop at a hotel, now, and let the scouts get in bed while their clothing dries," said Mr. Gilroy. So the wet ones were advised to dance about to keep warm, while Alec and Mr. Gilroy hurried over to the hotel to engage rooms. But they soon came back with surprised looks. "Not a corner to be had, and the manager called up other large places along the shore only to get the same answer--no room. He said there was a family boarding-house some distance along, where we might get in. The woman, a Mrs. Dickens, was a nice landlady and might tuck us in somewhere. Shall we try it?" said Mr. Gilroy. "It is so dark now, and we haven't started supper or found a spot to camp, so I think we had best try Mrs. Dickens," replied the Captain. In chilly silence the entire party got back into its canoes and skirted the shore until Mr. Gilroy called out to Yhon, "This must be the spot where I was told to land. The house is back from the lake, a bit." The canoeists had no difficulty in locating the boarding-house, but they were too late for a hot dinner, although the cold supper served was very good, especially to hungry young people. "I haven't any rooms left in the main house," explained Mrs. Dickens, "but I can give you several rooms in the annex. That used to be the help's cottage, but I had it done over to rent this season." "'Any port in a storm,' madam, and our 'storm' consists of several soaking suits that have to be dried," returned Mr. Gilroy. "The cottage has a small kitchen where you can quickly light a fire in the stove and dry everything. I think you will be very comfortable there," said Mrs. Dickens. So arrangements were made for the use of the cottage for that night. As they planned to start early in the morning again, the entire party retired soon after supper. The wet clothing had been hung on lines about the kitchen, where a servant had built a roaring fire. Although they had to "double up" in bed, or sleep on the floor, they were too healthily sleepy to mind such little things, and before ten o'clock every one was asleep. CHAPTER TWELVE FIRST AID Mrs. Vernon was a very light sleeper, consequently she was aroused a short time after midnight by cries and calls for help. She sprang from the bed and ran to a side window that opened towards the kitchen side of the boarding-house. All she could see was a dull glare that filled the kitchen windows. But she understood. Instantly, she ran to Mr. Gilroy's room and knocked loudly while she cried, "Get up--everybody--the boarding-house, next door, is on fire!" In a moment Mr. Gilroy jumped up and shouted, "All right--we'll be out in a jiffy!" Then Mrs. Vernon ran back to pull the girls out of bed and have them dress as speedily as possible. The clothing in the kitchen was dry, and soon the girls were dressing and, at the same time, talking excitedly of the fire. "I'm sorry Mrs. Dickens has had this misfortune, but as long as it happens while we are here, we must try to earn a medal," said Mrs. Vernon, as she breathlessly pulled a middy-blouse over her head. "What can girls do?" asked Amy, eagerly. "I don't know yet, but every little thing helps in a time like this. Just obey orders from Mr. Gilroy or me, and follow the example Julie is sure to give you," said Mrs. Vernon, glancing at the scout she mentioned, because Julie might run unnecessary risks for herself, but if she thought she was responsible for the other girls her zeal would be tempered wisely. "What do they give scouts a medal for, Verny?" now asked Judith, as she twisted her long hair up in a tight coil on her head. "If occasion arises for a scout to display great heroism, or if she faces extreme danger in trying to save a life, she can have the bronze medal--the highest award given. If she does a brave deed with considerable danger to herself, she wins a silver cross. But no scout is to run needless risk just to win a medal of any kind." While the Captain spoke, the scouts finished their hurried dressing and now followed her out to the lawn in front of the large house. Here the scene was one of great confusion and panic. Men were hastily moving articles of furniture and boarders' personal effects out of the three-storied building. Smoke poured from all the rear windows, and the roof seemed enveloped in heavy smoke-clouds. "Isn't there any volunteer fire department?" called Julie, to every one in general and no one in particular. "Where is it?" asked Alec of a man standing next to him. "We got a ring and hammer up yonder, and a hand-engine, but I hain't hear'n no one strike the signal," said he. "Come along, show me where it is," ordered Alec, catching hold of the man's sleeve and pulling him away from the staring crowd. Once the man had broken away from the mesmeric influence of the fire-watchers, he ran quickly with Alec to the knoll where a metal hoop and hammer were kept for the purpose of alarm in case of fire. Almost before the two reached the spot, Alec caught the hammer and was striking the metal at regular intervals. The man then offered to remain and send the volunteer firemen to the place where they were needed, so Alec ran back to help as best he could. Meantime, the girl scouts realized there was much to do to help others, and the Captain ordered every one to use the utmost presence of mind in doing anything they were called upon to do. Julie hastily whispered to Joan, "I'm going to run to the cottage and get that coil of rope we brought from the canoe last night, we may need it." "I'll run with you, Julie, for we must tie wet towels over our mouths, if we have to go inside there," added Joan. Both girls raced to their room, and when they came out they were provided with the rope, and the dripping towels were tied across their nostrils and mouths. As they stood momentarily on the little porch of the cottage to see where they might render the best service, the uproar from the upper stories in the rear was awful. "There may be some people trapped in their rooms up there!" exclaimed Julie to her companion. "We can climb up this rose-trellis quite easily, Jule, and get in at the windows of the second story where the piazza roof gives us a foothold," hastily returned Joan. In another moment both girls were quickly climbing up the strong trellis, and as soon as they reached the tin roof they ran to the window. Here they found a young mother sitting on the floor, rocking a baby back and forth while she cried wildly with hysteria. The child was held so tightly that it, too, was screaming. While Julie uncoiled the rope, Joan ran to the washstand and dipped a towel in the pitcher. But Julie called to her, "Bring the jug of water here, we've got to break this hysteric spell!" Joan carried the towel in one hand and the pitcher in the other, so Julie caught the jug from her, and dashed the water in the woman's face. The sudden choking and shock broke the spell. Then the towel was hastily pinned over the lower part of her face and she was hurried to the door. But the smoke and heat caused the girls to slam the door to again and run to the window. "Hey--down there!" yelled Julie, to a group of men on the flower-bed. "Hold out a blanket while we drop the baby down." "No--no!" screamed the mother, trying to get away from the grasp of strong young Joan. "You'll kill it!" "Give me the child, I'll carry it down the trellis," said Julie, but the mother would not relax her grip on her baby. "Where's that rope, Jo?" now asked Julie. "Over by the window we went in at," cried Joan, having all she could do to restrain the woman from throwing herself and babe down from the roof. So in another moment, Julie had the rope tied to a window shutter, and with the other end in hand was over by the woman. "Here--stand still, will you, while we fix this and let you down to the ground!" commanded she, and the woman instantly obeyed. Then both girls lowered the two slowly over the edge of the roof, down to where willing hands were raised to catch them. There was a wild acclaim as mother and child were saved, but the two scouts were not aware of it, as they were back inside the room again, taking their precious rope with them. Before they could determine what to do next, a queer form burst into the room. "Where's the rope you've been using, girls?" demanded the voice of Alec. But he was completely covered by his rubber sleeping-bag, in which he had slit holes for his feet and arms. Had it been any other time than such a moment, both girls must have doubled over in merriment at his appearance. "Here it is, Alec. Where did you come from?" cried both scouts in one voice. "Upstairs. I got up on the roof by climbing the water-spout, and in a dormer-room up there I found an old crippled woman, crying for help, but with no one to hear her until I climbed in from the scuttle-hole. A little old-fashioned stairway runs from the third floor down into the closet in this room. But I can't get her down those narrow stairs, and the other stairway and halls are a mass of fire. I've got to lower her from the roof, but I need help." "We'll help!" eagerly offered both the girls. So, with the coil of rope, they followed Alec through the smoke-filled room into the large dark closet, and thus, up the scuttle-hole stairs that had been abandoned for many years,--perhaps forgotten entirely, until this need. In the front end of the third story there was not much smoke as yet, so the three could see their way plainly. And in a small gable-room having a small window high from the floor moaned an old woman of more than seventy years. The moment she saw Alec return with two girls to help, she stopped wailing and tried to be courageous. "Now we may hurt you some when you are being moved, but you must bear it, Gran'ma," said Alec, gently. The old lady smiled reassuringly. "Children, anything is better than being roasted up in this little room. Don't worry over hurting me but do whatever is necessary," quavered the sweet old voice. "Now, girls, I'm going to shinny up the scuttle-hole in the roof and carry the rope with me. I'll tie it securely to the chimney on the roof and let down the other end. Fasten this about Grandma's waist and we'll try to lift her out that way. You two must help by holding her as much as possible, and by boosting from below." While Alec climbed up the wall-ladder and got out to the roof, Julie and Joan made a roll of blankets and placed it about the old lady's form under the arms. Then they looped the rope over this and secured it also under her arms. "All ready, Alec!" called Julie, holding her charge by one arm while Joan held her by the other. As Alec hauled, hand over hand on the rope, the two scouts beneath lifted and then boosted the old lady until she was safely through the opening in the roof. Then Alec leaned over and called to them: "If you can manage to run down and get through that room again, escape by way of the piazza-roof and send the firemen up from the outside with their ladders. I'll wait on the front roof with Grandma." So Julie and Joan rushed down the little attic-stairs, back through the smoke-filled room which was now dreadfully hot from the fire, and out of the other room window to the piazza roof. Once on the ground, a curious mob tried to surround them to ask all sorts of foolish questions, but Julie was equal to two mobs. With muscular arms and fists striking right and left, she quickly forced a passage and made her way to the spot where the Fire-Chief was ordering the men about. "Mr. Chief, run a ladder up to the roof where you see that scout standing. He's got an old crippled woman to save. Maybe the rope will reach and maybe it won't, so use your own judgment," called Julie, pointing up to where Alec could be dimly seen through the smoke. "Hoist a ladder, boys! See that scout up on the roof with Mrs. Dickens' mother?" shouted the Chief, anxiously watching the roof. While every one stood and in breathless suspense watched the firemen run up a long ladder and assist Alec in saving the poor helpless woman, Mrs. Dickens came distractedly from the rear of the house and ran about seeking for her mother. When she learned that it was her mother they were trying to save, she fainted with fright. But the old lady was safely brought to the ground, and a great fuss was made over Alec. Then Mrs. Dickens was revived, and when she found her aged mother beside her on the grass, she almost fainted again from joy and gratitude. The house was doomed even before the firemen reached the scene, for it was constructed, as so many summer boarding-houses are at seashore and mountain resorts, of thin novelty-siding outside and oil-stained ceiling boards inside; these act like kindling wood once they are ignited. The crowd stood, now, and watched the flames lick up everything in sight, but every one was thankful that no lives were lost. The scouts, both girls and boys, had worked so faithfully that all the silver and linen were saved, and the men had removed much of the best furniture in the ground-floor rooms. The sun, that morning, rose on a scene of confusion and pathos. Guests who had been able to save most of their effects were assisting less fortunate ones to dress in all kinds of apparel. Neighbors from nearby cottages were caring for the homeless boarders, until order could be brought out of the chaotic condition. But the cottages were few, and the guests many, so some one must suggest a plan to meet the immediate needs. It was Mr. Gilroy who thought of a way. "We all sympathize with Mrs. Dickens in her distress, but it might have been worse, friends,--we all realize that,--and so we feel grateful that no lives were lost. But here it is breakfast-time, and there are many hungry mouths to fill, and I would suggest that you accept a scout breakfast with us as soon as it is ready." Every one responded to such a hearty invitation, and Mr. Gilroy added, "Then we'll show you how to prepare a good meal with no stove or kitchen, and with but few pots or pans." The boys were sent out on the lake to get the fish; the girls were told to knead the dough for scout-twists, and place them at the fire Mr. Gilroy was building. To interest the weary boarders, Mr. Gilroy had started his campfire with rubbing-sticks and had arranged the bread-sticks upon which the dough was twined, to the best advantage for all to watch while the twists baked. Most of the dishes had been saved from the fire, and these were now used for breakfast. Several large tablecloths had been spread out upon the smooth grass, and plates set around on the squares of linen. The fish had been cleaned by Yhon when caught, and now the boys returned with a nice mess--enough for every one that morning. Mrs. Dickens kept all her extra stock of food in the little loft of the cottage, and as this annex was spared any damage by the fire, there was a supply of cereals, flour, bacon, and other necessities for meals. With the thrift of a good housekeeper, Mrs. Dickens had laid in a stock of purchases when the Army Supply had been sold off at auction in the city. So Mrs. Vernon found gallon cans of stewed prunes and other food-products on hand. In spite of all trouble and perplexities that morning, breakfast was a cheerful meal. Prunes for fruit; hominy and other prepared cereals for a second course; then fresh fish, fried in corn-meal jackets and browned in bacon-fat, furnished a delicious third course with the hot scout-bread. And all this was topped off with fragrant coffee. Naturally, the conversation was about one thing--the fire and the courage shown by the three scouts. The equally helpful work done by Mrs. Vernon and the other scouts in caring for those who were rescued, received but small notice. But they never as much as thought of it--with Julie and Joan in a fair way to win a medal that would lift the entire Troop to recognition at Headquarters in New York. When breakfast was over, Mr. Gilroy expressed his other idea. "I have a plan that may meet with general approval, but that remains to be seen. Now listen carefully, while I speak, and then do as you like afterwards. My boys and these girls are willing to teach you how to do what I am about to propose, and help in any way we can to make every one comfortable for the time being. "You have no house to sleep in, and Mrs. Dickens will have no boarders to help her meet her expenses and loss, unless we immediately find some way to change all this seeming trouble. So this is my suggestion: "We scouts are accustomed to sleeping out-of-doors and thus we know how to make the finest beds out of the material Nature provides. We will show every one how to weave these balsam beds that are superior to any handmade spring and hair mattress. "While you people are completing your beds, we will paddle up to a place Yhon told me about, where a number of Indians camp. They make and sell tents to parties coming to the Adirondacks for the summer. Then at the end of the season they will buy them back and pay prices according to the condition the tents are in. Perhaps we can rent a number of tents, as the summer is now half over. "If enough boarders agree to this plan, and will insure the risk to Mrs. Dickens by advancing the money necessary to pay for the tents, we scouts will go after the tents for you and bring them back in our canoes. "Mrs. Dickens says she can quickly have a pavilion built that will answer for a dining-room, but any one who does not care for 'roughing' it in tent-life must find other accommodations. All such can have meals in the pavilion, but must take second table as boarders remaining in camp will naturally have first claim on the hostess' service." After a noisy debate, in which most of the ousted guests found these plans and future delights pleasant to discuss, the majority voted to remain and take up tent-life. Thus it happened that Mrs. Dickens was helped out of the financial ruin that had stared her in the face a few hours before, and the guests were treated to a rare experience,--living in the open in the wonderful woods. The scouts started every one cutting the young tips of the balsams for their bedding, then paddled after Yhon in the canoes, up the Marion River to Bear Creek, where the guide knew several of his friends to have camps for the summer. They had tents to hire or for sale, and were only too glad to furnish all that were needed for the houseless boarders at Dickens' Landing. The tent-outfits were carefully packed inside the canoes, and the scouts joyfully paddled back, realizing that "What blesses one, blesses all" in this working out of a good idea. When the scouts landed with the tents and found that enough balsam had been stripped for the beds, they began to weave the tips as all scouts know how to do. Meantime, Mr. Gilroy, Yhon, and several of the men raised the tents and secured them in such places as Mrs. Dickens selected. The balsam beds were then made up in the tents, and before evening, every one was provided with room and beds, thanks to the scouts. As the canoes left that shore, they were sped with many blessings, for they had done a great thing for those standing on the rocks, watching them depart. CHAPTER THIRTEEN SHOOTING THE RAPIDS--AND OTHER THINGS "Well, 'where do we go from here, boys?'" called Mr. Gilroy, laughingly, as he looked back over his shoulder at the scouts. "Anywhere but home!" exclaimed Julie. "Why not there? Don't you like my camp-ground?" asked Mr. Gilroy, teasingly. "Of course, but after such a night and day we won't want to settle down again into quiet life. We have to let ourselves down gradually," laughed Alec. "Well, then, we'll ask Yhon where to go to-day," agreed Mr. Gilroy. "Ride the rapids," returned Yhon, as if that was enough said. Such a shout that greeted this suggestion proved he was right in his surmise. Finally, when Mrs. Vernon could be heard, she asked, "Where are they--far from Raquette Lake?" "Yhon, I suppose you mean those on the route to Forked Lake, through Raquette River to Long Lake, eh?" said Mr. Gilroy. "Um! Up Raquette Fall to Corey an' 'en to Sar'nac." "Saranac Lake! Oh, I've always wanted to see it!" cried Julie. "Do let's go, Gilly!" begged other voices. "Shall we take a vote on it?" laughed Mr. Gilroy. "Why waste time--it is unanimously decided already," retorted Alec for the boys. "Yhon, I'm afraid you've let me in for trouble!" cried Mr. Gilroy, but he turned his canoe just the same, and led the way. The scouts now followed Mr. Gilroy and Yhon across the mouth of the Marion River, and rounded Woods' Point. Across Boulder Bay, to Bluff Point, they paddled, and carefully rounding this point they entered Outlet Bay. Then the usual route was taken up the bay until they reached Forked Lake Carry. They were all in high spirits and the short carry only added to their enjoyment. The canoes were launched again in Forked Lake waters and they paddled until the end of the lake was reached. Where it joins Raquette River was a carry of a mile and a half, and seeing that it was noon and time for luncheon, Mr. Gilroy said: "Why not have something to eat first, and carry afterwards?" "Oh, that will add to the work of carrying," retorted Julie. "Not only canoes but food!" But the boys were for eating, so they scanned the shore carefully as they slowly moved through the water, until Yhon saw a place he considered suitable for camp. Here a fire was soon started, and the four boys were sent out to fish. The girls were left to bake the bread and prepare the rest of the meal. In spite of their most skillful efforts, the boys did not have good luck, and returned with but a small catch of fish. Hilarity due to the way the boys told how they had to fish made up for the lack and for everything else. When everything was packed neatly again, and all were ready to start, Jake gave a wild leap and landed too near the edge of Yhon's canoe. Over it went, staples and outfits all going down into the water. "Oh, all our sugar and salt--and everything!" cried Julie. Yhon never changed a muscle of his face, although he must have been taken by surprise when he was precipitated into the water. The outfits, hampers, and other things were quickly salvaged and restored to the canoe, but Jake sat in disgrace on the bank, and hung his head as if he understood just what he had done. So much time had been used in rescuing Yhon, in fishing their food-stock out of the water, and coaxing Jake back into the canoe, that it was late when the scouts reached Deerland Lodge. "What say you, scouts,--shall we stop at the Lodge, or take a chance up Long Lake until we reach a point where we can strike off to reach Hendrick Spring, the fountainhead of the Hudson River?" asked Mr. Gilroy. "And where shall we camp?" asked Mrs. Vernon. "It might be nice to camp at the spring," suggested Alec. "Oh, yes, let's do that, Gilly!" cried several voices. So they kept right on, paddling swiftly along until they reached a place on the shore where Yhon said they must land if they proposed going to Hendrick Spring. "Oh, I thought we could canoe there," ventured Julie. "No, we must leave Yhon here to watch the canoes while we hike along the trail that goes there. We can carry our sleeping-bags and take enough food for supper, then come back early in the morning for a good breakfast with Yhon," explained Mr. Gilroy. "Is there no way we might take to return to Fulton Chain Lakes other than going back the same route?" questioned Mrs. Vernon. "No, we shall have to go the way we come, or be willing to _carry_ overland for many miles, from one water to the other." "Oh, no, that is out of the question," said the Captain. So each scout took a sleeping-bag and cup and plate, while the boys carried the extra cooking outfit, and Alec his rifle. The trail led through a most wonderful primeval forest where lichened stones, moss-clothed fallen trees and luxuriant foliage of standing timber furnished homes for countless wild creatures. They had not gone far before a ruddy-hued fox tried to back out of their way on the trail, and managed successfully to merge his color with that of the yellow-brown verdure about him. Further on, Alec suddenly lifted his rifle and aimed, but the furtive mottled animal that had been crouching along the mottled limb of a tree leaped back with the least possible noise or disturbance of the foliage, and was gone! "That was _some_ wildcat, but she was too slick for me!" said Alec, when questioned about missing it. The scouts saw so many unfamiliar birds that they wished they had carried a bird book on the trip to help them identify all they now saw. Notes were taken, however, to help them look up and catalogue the varieties, later, in camp. There were many other interesting living creatures, also; some half-hid under leaves or twigs, others squatting daringly in the open, with questioning eyes fixed on these clumsy intruders. Finally the scouts reached Hendrick Springs, but to their consternation the place was already tenanted with undesirable tramps. Mr. Gilroy politely questioned the three men who claimed to be timber-jacks, but their empty package that had contained food and the quart bottle that had once been filled with whiskey, now also empty, belied their story. Their hardened faces, unkempt appearance, and other earmarks caused a little apprehension in the hearts of the girls and Mrs. Vernon; but soon after the new arrivals started their fire to cook supper, the three tramps got up and quietly left. Scanty beds of balsam were soon made for the night for the girls, but the boys preferred to sleep upon the grass. After a few campfire tales, they decided who was to keep the fire burning all night to ward off any wild animals, and also to guard against the return of the evil-looking tramps. "We girls want to take our turn in watching, as well as the boys, Gilly!" declared Joan, when she heard how the guard was to be divided up for the night. "Oh, you girls need sleep, but we don't," said Bob. "We are just as hale as any of you boys, and we want to do our bit!" exclaimed Julie, decidedly. "Well, then, if you must, you will!" sighed Mr. Gilroy, comically. "Now I have to begin all over again and figure out this problem. Let's see: "First, Alec and Bob mount guard two hours; then Dick and Ned guard for two more; then Julie and Joan; and lastly, all the other girls and myself. How is that?" Every one laughed, for Julie and Joan were now getting all they bargained for. So Alec and Bob went on duty, while the rest stretched out and fell asleep. At eleven o'clock the next two boys were called; but at one o'clock, when it was time to rouse Julie and Joan, Mr. Gilroy crept over and motioned the boys to let him mount duty for a time. It was nearly three when Julie woke up and rubbed her eyes. She instantly realized that no one had called her, so she nudged Joan and got her up. Then they crept over to the campfire and scolded Mr. Gilroy for breaking faith with them. He laughed and gladly went back to finish his night's repose. Having been so sound asleep just before going on duty, and being utterly tired out with the day's experiences, the two girls sat by the fire endeavoring to keep each other fully awake. But the Sand Man was too powerful for them to resist his dreamy influence, and soon Joan dozed while Julie yawned and did her best to keep her eyelids open. An hour passed and Joan was sweetly sleeping, while Julie was nodding, heavy with sleep. Suddenly a crackling of branches behind them caused Julie to start wide awake. "Joan, are you awake?" whispered Julie fearfully, shaking her friend. "Sure--why?" mumbled Joan, sitting up to rub her eyes. [Illustration: "Where--which way did you hear them?" questioned Joan ... Page 211] "I heard some one--maybe those tramps are back to do something," whispered Julie, trying to peer through the misty night. "Where--which way did you hear them?" questioned Joan, now fully awake, too. "See those long shadows by the trees, over there?" returned Julie. "I'll pile a lot more wood on the fire and make it blaze so we can see them if they come nearer." So saying, she threw so much wood on the fire that it instantly smothered the red glow and began smoking like a chimney. The smoke drove the girls from that side of the fire and caused them to cough violently, while there was a lively scrambling of feet over by the trees, and both girls began calling: "Gilly! Gilly, wake up! The tramps are here!" That cry brought every one to his feet, and the moment all heads got the benefit of the smoke, every one began coughing. But they managed to creep along the ground to the side of the fire, where the two girls stood gazing at the trees in question. Just as Alec crept up beside the scouts with rifle up ready to aim at whatever he found skulking about them, there sounded a frightful screeching, and hoarse calls came from the lower branches of the tree. "I knew it! I saw them creep over and heard them climb," cried Julie, quaking with excitement. "They planned to drop something on our heads, I guess," added Joan, her eyes bulging as she tried to see into the foliage. Just as Alec decided to take aim and fire haphazardly, knowing that he could not see in the dark but could frighten the tramps, Bob caught hold of his arm. He was unaware that it held a gun that was cocked ready to fire. The rifle went off prematurely, the shot hit the mark without Alec's trying for it, and a heavy thud informed the scouts that the bullet was fatal! Instantly, however, there was such a commotion in the leaves, and such a Bedlam of screeching! Finally a great flock of crows swept out of the high tree and flew away to find a less dangerous roost. The first streaks of dawn were penetrating the forest's darkness when the offended crows left their ancestral tree; and the scouts looked at each other in surprise. But Alec was sure it was not a crow he had downed--it was too heavy for that! So the boys crept carefully over to the place where they thought to find the body of a tramp, while the girls followed at a respectful distance. Then the relieved cry from Alec, and the laughing calls from the other boys, hurried the girls to join their friends. There they saw a dead wildcat of truly awesome size. In its clenched teeth it still held the young nestling--the object of its nocturnal climb into the tree. Alec's unexpected shot had hit true and had done for the crafty animal. "Well, this is some trophy to carry back home, eh?" cried Alec delightedly, as he turned the cat over with his foot. "I'm glad you didn't kill anything more than the wildcat," added Mrs. Vernon. "If you boys intend carrying that back to camp, you'll have to skin it now and take only the pelt. You can't be bothered with the heavy beast itself. Leave the carcass for the wild denizens that will be glad to feed on this, their enemy," advised Mr. Gilroy. "And do give us the crow! If it hadn't been for Joan and me you wouldn't have had the wildcat!" exclaimed Julie. "If it hadn't been for you two imaginative scouts we all would still be snoozing peacefully beside the fire," laughed Alec. CHAPTER FOURTEEN THE GRAND SURPRISE When the scouts returned to their camp beside Little Moose Lake, they were impressed anew with the peace and beauty of the spot. The canoe trip had been delightful and exciting, but all were glad to get back to a simple life once more. Having seen the scout girls safely back home, and their canoes in the lake for future use, Mr. Gilroy sighed and said, "Now I shall take a long rest and recover from the past few days' work!" A few days after their return from the "voyage," as they called it, the scout girls received a bundle of mail. In it were newspapers, many letters, and other interesting items. The papers were all "marked copies," and the mail proved to be letters filled with congratulations and words of praise for the brave girls. "Why, they must be crazy! Every one's writing about what we did at the fire!" laughed Julie. "Yes, just listen to this from 'Liza, every one!" called out Betty. And she read: "'So I sez to yer Pa, yu've got two fine scouts in them girls, Mister Lee, and this proves it. Any girl what will climb the side of a house to save folkses from burning, is wuth a lot of lazy, good-fer-nothin' boys, I sez.'" Every one laughed heartily at the praise thus bestowed upon them; but Betty said regretfully, "It's too bad I didn't do as much as Julie did at that fire. Daddy won't feel very proud of me, I'm afraid!" "Oh, but you did, Betty! You ran for the Captain and did all sorts of stunts we couldn't have done. But not every one could climb like Jo and I do!" said Julie, soothingly. "Oh, girls!" exclaimed the Captain, who had been hurriedly glancing over one of the papers received. "Listen to this from a New York paper. Oh, I am so proud of you all!" Then she read: "'At a recent fire that destroyed Dickens' Hotel at Raquette Lake, Adirondacks, a group of girl scouts known as the Dandelion Troop saved many lives and did heroic work in saving property. One of the hotel guests told our local reporter the story and we print his own words.'" Then followed an account of the fire, and how it started because of a defective flue in the kitchen chimney. It told in detail all that the girls did, but the story merely mentioned Alec and _his_ courageous act. At the last of the story, a full description was given of how the balsam beds were made, and how the boarders were now enjoying themselves in tent-life and out-of-door camp cooking. And all this was due, it said, to the Girl Scouts being able to teach the homeless boarders how to help themselves with the bountiful supply from Nature. That morning, Mr. Gilroy came down to the camp to hear the news, for he also had received several papers with the story of the fire in them. After the excitement of reading it all over again to him, the girls quieted down to hear what he wished to say. "I came to see about your plans for next summer's outing," said he. The girls looked at him quizzically, for they thought he was joking. Mrs. Vernon gasped, "Next summer! We're not through with this year yet!" "I know that, but 'In times of peace prepare for war,' you know," laughed he. "Tell us why you asked?" demanded Julie. "Because I am planning a trip for my next outing, and I am debating whether to invite any girl scouts to go with me." "Where? Aren't you going to stay here next summer?" was the answer from several girls. "No, I have had an important letter to-day. And I am going to accept the offer made me by the Government, but it will cost any girl scout more to go with _me_ than it did to come to the Adirondacks." "Then that settles our going! We haven't a cent left over after this outing. If it hadn't been for those escaped felons last year we wouldn't have been here, I suppose!" sighed Julie. "If it had not been the reward for the capture of the two felons that proved to be the means to bring you to the Adirondacks, there would have been some other way of finding the supply for you. You see, girls, there is always plenty of everything for you when the Source is unlimited," said Mr. Gilroy. "Not one of us in Dandelion Troop have such a banker," laughed Judith. "Then, if this is so, why need we worry about expenses for next summer's outing with you?" added Joan, in response to his remark. "I didn't ask you to worry," retorted Mr. Gilroy. "I only asked you to remember that you have the invitation, but it is up to you to find the channel of supply and break down the dam, so the supply will run smoothly and continuously for your needs." "How much shall we need, Gilly?" asked Julie, deeply interested in his words. "More than a thousand dollars for you all, I know that! But how much more depends upon our itinerary, and that depends on the Captain." "Oh, does she know about it?" chorused the girls. "Not yet, but she will, shortly," laughed Mr. Gilroy. All the coaxings from nine persuasive girls failed to move Mr. Gilroy from the stand he had taken--not to tell about the next summer's plans. But a week later, when the scouts were well nigh forgetting all about his conversation, he brought a pleasant-faced gentleman to the camp to visit the girls. "This is Mr. Everard, scouts. He is anxious to meet Julia and Antoinette, since I told him what clever rascals they are. Do you think they will do their tricks for company?" Mr. Everard laughed merrily, and it was readily seen that he had not come to see the calf and pig do the little tricks which the scouts had taught them. However, the calf and pig were brought out, and they performed as they had been trained to do, during many strenuous hours, and they won the applause of the stranger. Then he spoke of the real cause of his visit. "I am one of the investigators of the Carnegie Reward Society, and having heard of your bravery in the recent fire at Raquette Lake, I was sent here to ascertain various facts. From all accounts, the rescues you made were not only courageous and daring, but spectacular as well. It made a fine tale for the newspapers. One of the leading men on a metropolitan daily sent us a note asking whether such deeds were not rewarded by us." The scouts were too amazed to speak, but Mrs. Vernon spoke for them. She thanked Mr. Everard for coming, and said how pleased they all were that others appreciated the deeds performed by the Dandelion Scouts. "The medal will be given at the same time the reward of money is presented. So I need the names of the girls who took an active part in the rescues. Those who rendered First Aid to the sufferers may be awarded minor medals--I am not sure of that yet," explained Mr. Everard. "But Alec did as much as Jo and I, Gilly," said Julie, "although they didn't say much about him in the papers." "That has been corrected, but you didn't see the papers of the following day. And Alec is to receive exactly the same reward as you girls," returned Mr. Gilroy. Mr. Everard did not mention the amount of money that was likely to arrive with the medals, but Mrs. Vernon spoke of it later. The two men left camp, and Mr. Everard was taken over to Grey Fox Camp to meet the boys. "Verny, maybe that reward will be the nest-egg of the supply we must have to go with Gilly next summer!" declared Julie excitedly, after both men had disappeared from view. "I was thinking of that when Mr. Everard spoke," said Mrs. Vernon. "I wonder how much they give to one--about a hundred dollars, I suppose," ventured Joan. "Oh, no! I've heard their cash rewards range from a thousand and down to five hundred dollars, according to the valor of the deed," replied the Captain. "A thousand!" chorused the scouts in amazement. "Why, that would take us all on Gilly's trip," said Julie. "Maybe; but we don't know where he plans to go. If it is around the world, I fear the reward will not carry you all that far," rejoined Mrs. Vernon, smilingly. A few days after Mr. Everard's visit at camp, Mr. Gilroy came again. "Well, scouts! was I right when I told you not to limit your supply to any old-fashioned mill-pond?" "You're always right--how could you _ever_ be mistaken?" was Julie's retort. He laughed. "Now, this flow of supply from the boundless Source I preached about will give you the means to accept my invitation for next year." "We have already accepted, and are arranging to be absent from home for the length of time it takes to go to Jericho and back again," answered Julie. "Not to the Far East," laughed Mr. Gilroy, "but to the most wonderful mountains on earth, though the public has not realized that fact, because they are not yet the fashion. They are fast reaching that recognition, however. At present one can go there without being pestered by souvenir peddlers." "Do tell us where it is, now that you've told us this much," begged the girls. But Mr. Gilroy shook his head and left them guessing. The last of August was passing quickly, and the scouts sighed whenever they remembered that they must close the wonderful camp the first week of September. There was still, however, one delight in store for them. That was the County Fair, held the first three days of September. They had entered Julia and Antoinette to compete for prizes in their individual classes. The boys, as well as the girls, spent those days at the Fair Grounds, showing the tricks Julia and the pig could do, and also going about seeking votes for their pets. The result of this faithful work was seen when the prizes were awarded. Dandelion Scout Camp won First Prize of a hundred dollars for having the heaviest and finest pig exhibited that year. Another fifty dollars came for Antoinette's being the best amateur trick animal shown that year. Julia won second prize of fifty dollars for having the required number of points in breeding and development. Then, after the fair closed, an animal trainer who made his living going about giving shows of trick animals made an offer for the two pets, saying he had seen them perform at the fair. "What shall we do? Suppose the man is cruel to them?" asked Julie, worried over the disposal of Julia and Anty. "It can't be much worse than sending them to a butcher," remarked Mr. Gilroy. "Oh, mercy! We never could sell them for meat!" cried Joan. "I shall never eat another mouthful of veal or pork," added Betty, fervently. "None of us will ever eat meat again!" declared the others. "But that doesn't answer this letter," the Captain reminded them. "The man offers a good price, girls, and having so much capital invested, he will surely take care of the investment," said Mr. Gilroy. "Y-e-s, that's so! Well, I'll tell you what, girls," said Julie. "Let's make him double his offer, and that will make him still more appreciative of Julia and Anty. If he takes it, all right. If he doesn't, we can write to some other Zoo trainer, now that we know we have two fine trained pets." But the animal trainer expected a "come-back," and was only too glad to secure Julia and Anty at the price the scouts mentioned. And that added materially to the fund for the next summer's outing--wherever it was to be. The day the trainer came to take possession of his newly acquired pets, the girls felt blue over saying good-by to them. Anty had been so thoroughly scrubbed that she glistened, and Julia had been brushed and currycombed until she looked like satin. "Oh, Anty! Shake hands just once more," wailed Judith, as she held out her hand to the pig. Anty immediately stood upon her hind legs and held out a hoof that had made such distracting imprints for the scouts early in the summer. "I'll buy the little bark shed, too. I know that all pets love their own little sleeping-places and get so used to them they never feel at home in new quarters. I'll take the pen with me," said the trainer. So Anty was the means of adding to the coffer of gold the scouts were now dreaming of. And the artistic little bark house was taken away for Anty's especial use thereafter. After the departure of Julia and Antoinette, the scouts felt lonely, and the camp was soon dismantled of all the exhibits that had been used for decorations that summer. Everything was packed and shipped back home, and then came the day when Mr. Bentley came in his touring car to assist in the transportation of the campers to their old homes and families. As they all stood on the verandah of the bungalow shaking hands with Mr. Gilroy and telling him what a precious old dear he was to have bothered with them all summer, he said: "But you haven't asked me for the itinerary for next year." "We have, again and again, but you said it was not yet time for that!" exclaimed Julie. "Well, it _is_ time now. I have to spend all next summer in the Rocky Mountains collecting specimens of glacial deposits, so I need your company to keep me cheerful. It is up to you to win the consent of your people and save the money for the trip." Such a chorus of youthful voices as greeted that wondrous prospect made the adults laugh. "You seem to welcome the idea of camping in the Rockies?" suggested Mr. Gilroy, as the scouts piled into the cars ready to go home. "Do we! Well, Gilly, just you wait and see if we are not with you next year in those Rockies!" laughed Julie. * * * * * _THIS ISN'T ALL!_ Would you like to know what became of the good friends you have made in this book? Would you like to read other stories continuing their adventures and experiences, or other books quite as entertaining by the same author? On the _reverse side_ of the wrapper which comes with this book, you will find a wonderful list of stories which you can buy at the same store where you got this book. _Don't throw away the Wrapper_ _Use it as a handy catalog of the books you want some day to have. But in case you do mislay it, write to the Publishers for a complete catalog._ GIRL SCOUTS SERIES By LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY Author of the "Polly Brewster Books" Handsomely Bound. Colored Wrappers. Illustrated. Each Volume Complete in Itself. Here is a series that holds the same position for girls that the Tom Slade and Roy Blakeley books hold for boys. They are delightful stories of Girl Scout camp life amid beautiful surroundings and are filled with stirring adventures. GIRL SCOUTS AT DANDELION CAMP This is a story which centers around the making and the enjoying of a mountain camp, spiced with the fun of a lively troop of Girl Scouts. The charm of living in the woods, of learning woodcraft of all sorts, of adventuring into the unknown, combine to make a busy and an exciting summer for the girls. GIRL SCOUTS IN THE ADIRONDACKS New scenery, new problems of camping, association with a neighboring camp of Boy Scouts, and a long canoe trip with them through the Fulton Chain, all in the setting of the marvelous Adirondacks, bring to the girls enlargement of horizon, new development, and new joys. GIRL SCOUTS IN THE ROCKIES On horseback from Denver through Estes Park as far as the Continental Divide, climbing peaks, riding wild trails, canoeing through canyons, shooting rapids, encountering a landslide, a summer blizzard, a sand storm, wild animals, and forest fires, the girls pack the days full with unforgettable experiences. GIRL SCOUTS IN ARIZONA AND NEW MEXICO The Girl Scouts visit the mountains and deserts of Arizona and New Mexico. They travel over the old Santa Fe trail, cross the Painted Desert, and visit the Grand Canyon. Their exciting adventures form a most interesting story. GIRL SCOUTS IN THE REDWOODS The girls spend their summer in the Redwoods of California and incidentally find a way to induce a famous motion picture director in Hollywood to offer to produce a film that stars the Girl Scouts of America. THE LILIAN GARIS BOOKS Attractively Bound. Illustrated. Individual Colored Wrappers. Every Volume Complete in Itself. Lilian Garis is one of the writers who always wrote. She expressed herself in verse from early school days and it was then predicted that Lilian Mack would one day become a writer. Justifying this sentiment, while still at high school, she took charge of the woman's page for a city paper and her work there attracted such favorable attention that she left school to take entire charge of the woman's page for the largest daily in an important Eastern city. Mrs. Garis turned to girls' books directly after her marriage, and of these she has written many. She believes in girls, studies them and depicts them with pen both skilled and sympathetic. BARBARA HALE: A DOCTOR'S DAUGHTER BARBARA HALE AND COZETTE GLORIA: A GIRL AND HER DAD GLORIA AT BOARDING SCHOOL JOAN: JUST GIRL JOAN'S GARDEN OF ADVENTURE CONNIE LORING'S AMBITION CONNIE LORING'S DILEMMA AMY BELL MARLOWE'S BOOKS FOR GIRLS Charming, Fresh and Original Stories Illustrated. Wrappers printed in colors with individual design for each story Miss Marlowe's books for girls are somewhat of the type of Miss Alcott and also Mrs. Meade; but all are thoroughly up-to-date and wholly American in scene and action. Good, clean absorbing tales that all girls thoroughly enjoy. THE OLDEST OF FOUR; Or, Natalie's Way Out. A sweet story of the struggles of a live girl to keep a family from want. THE GIRLS AT HILLCREST FARM; Or, The Secret of the Rocks. Relating the trials of two girls who take boarders on an old farm. A LITTLE MISS NOBODY; Or, With the Girls of Pinewood Hall. Tells of a schoolgirl who was literally a nobody until she solved the mystery of her identity. THE GIRL FROM SUNSET RANCH; Or, Alone in a Great City. A ranch girl comes to New York to meet relatives she has never seen. Her adventures make unusually good reading. WYN'S CAMPING DAYS; Or, The Outing of the GO-AHEAD CLUB. A tale of happy days on the water and under canvas, with a touch of mystery and considerable excitement. FRANCIS OF THE RANGES: Or, The Old Ranchman's Treasure. A vivid picture of life on the great cattle ranges of the West. THE GIRLS OF RIVERCLIFF SCHOOL; Or, Beth Baldwin's Resolve. This is one of the most entertaining stories centering about a girl's school that has ever been written. WHEN ORIOLE CAME TO HARBOR LIGHT. The story of a young girl, cast up by the sea, and rescued by an old lighthouse keeper. WHEN ORIOLE TRAVELED WESTWARD. Oriole visits the family of a rich ranchman and enjoys herself immensely. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS SERIES By LAURA LEE HOPE Author of the "Bobbsey Twins," "Bunny Brown" Series, Etc. Uniform Style of Binding. Individual Colored Wrappers. Every Volume Complete in Itself. These tales take in the various adventures participated in by several bright, up-to-date girls who love outdoor life. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE; Or, Camping and Tramping for Fun and Health. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT RAINBOW LAKE; Or, The Stirring Cruise of the Motor Boat Gem. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A MOTOR CAR; Or, The Haunted Mansion of Shadow Valley. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A WINTER CAMP; Or, Glorious Days on Skates and Ice Boats. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN FLORIDA; Or, Wintering in the Sunny South. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT OCEAN VIEW; Or, The Box That Was Found in the Sand. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ON PINE ISLAND; Or, A Cave and What it Contained. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN ARMY SERVICE; Or, Doing Their Bit for Uncle Sam. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT THE HOSTESS HOUSE; Or, Doing Their Best For the Soldiers. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT BLUFF POINT; Or, A Wreck and A Rescue. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT WILD ROSE LODGE; Or, The Hermit of Moonlight Falls. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN THE SADDLE; Or, The Girl Miner of Gold Run. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AROUND THE CAMPFIRE; Or, The Old Maid of the Mountains. THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ON CAPE COD; Or, Sally Ann of Lighthouse Rock. THE BLYTHE GIRLS BOOKS By LAURA LEE HOPE Individual Colored Wrappers and Text Illustrations by THELMA GOOCH Every Volume Complete in Itself The Blythe girls, three in number, were left alone in New York City. Helen, who went in for art and music, kept the little flat uptown, while Margy just out of a business school, obtained a position as a private secretary and Rose, plain-spoken and businesslike, took what she called a "job" in a department store. THE BLYTHE GIRLS: HELEN, MARGY AND ROSE; Or, Facing the Great World. A fascinating tale of real happenings in the great metropolis. THE BLYTHE GIRLS: MARGY'S QUEER INHERITANCE; Or, The Worth of a Name. The girls had a peculiar old aunt and when she died she left an unusual inheritance. This tale continues the struggles of all the girls for existence. THE BLYTHE GIRLS: ROSE'S GREAT PROBLEM; Or, Face to Face With a Crisis. Rose still at work in the big department store, is one day faced with the greatest problem of her life. A tale of mystery as well as exciting girlish happenings. THE BLYTHE GIRLS: HELEN'S STRANGE BOARDER; Or, The Girl From Bronx Park. Helen, out sketching, goes to the assistance of a strange girl, whose real identity is a puzzle to all the Blythe girls. Who the girl really was comes as a tremendous surprise. THE BLYTHE GIRLS: THREE ON A VACATION; Or, The Mystery at Peach Farm. The girls close their flat and go to the country for two weeks--and fall in with all sorts of curious and exciting happenings. How they came to the assistance of Joe Morris, and solved a queer mystery, is well related. CAROLYN WELLS BOOKS Attractively Bound. Illustrated. Colored Wrappers. THE MARJORIE BOOKS Marjorie is a happy little girl of twelve, up to mischief, but full of goodness and sincerity. In her and her friends every girl reader will see much of her own love of fun, play and adventure. MARJORIE'S VACATION MARJORIE'S BUSY DAYS MARJORIE'S NEW FRIEND MARJORIE IN COMMAND MARJORIE'S MAYTIME MARJORIE AT SEACOTE * * * * * THE TWO LITTLE WOMEN SERIES Introducing Dorinda Fayre--a pretty blonde, sweet, serious, timid and a little slow, and Dorothy Rose--a sparkling brunette, quick, elf-like, high tempered, full of mischief and always getting into scrapes. TWO LITTLE WOMEN TWO LITTLE WOMEN AND TREASURE HOUSE TWO LITTLE WOMEN ON A HOLIDAY * * * * * THE DICK AND DOLLY BOOKS Dick and Dolly are brother and sister, and their games, their pranks, their joys and sorrows, are told in a manner which makes the stories "really true" to young readers. DICK AND DOLLY DICK AND DOLLY'S ADVENTURES THE BOBBSEY TWINS BOOKS For Little Men and Women By LAURA LEE HOPE Author of "The Bunny Brown Series," Etc. Durably Bound. Illustrated. Uniform Style of Binding. Every Volume Complete in Itself. These books for boys and girls between the ages of three and ten stand among children and their parents of this generation where the books of Louisa May Alcott stood in former days. The haps and mishaps of this inimitable pair of twins, their many adventures and experiences are a source of keen delight to imaginative children everywhere. THE BOBBSEY TWINS THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRY THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORE THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SCHOOL THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGE THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON A HOUSEBOAT THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT MEADOW BROOK THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT HOME THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN A GREAT CITY THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON BLUEBERRY ISLAND THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON THE DEEP BLUE SEA THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE GREAT WEST THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT CEDAR CAMP THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE COUNTY FAIR THE BOBBSEY TWINS CAMPING OUT THE BOBBSEY TWINS AND BABY MAY THE BOBBSEY TWINS KEEPING HOUSE THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT CLOVERBANK THE BUNNY BROWN SERIES By LAURA LEE HOPE Author of the Popular "Bobbsey Twins" Books, Etc. Durably Bound. Illustrated. Uniform Style of Binding. Every Volume Complete in Itself. These stories by the author of the "Bobbsey Twins" Books are eagerly welcomed by the little folks from about five to ten years of age. Their eyes fairly dance with delight at the lively doings of inquisitive little Bunny Brown and his cunning, trustful sister Sue. BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON GRANDPA'S FARM BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE PLAYING CIRCUS BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT CAMP REST-A-WHILE BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT AUNT LU'S CITY HOME BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE IN THE BIG WOODS BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON AN AUTO TOUR BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AND THEIR SHETLAND PONY BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE GIVING A SHOW BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT CHRISTMAS TREE COVE BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE IN THE SUNNY SOUTH BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE KEEPING STORE BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AND THEIR TRICK DOG BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT A SUGAR CAMP SIX LITTLE BUNKERS SERIES By LAURA LEE HOPE Author of The Bobbsey Twins Books, The Bunny Brown Series, The Blythe Girls Books, Etc. Durably Bound. Illustrated. Uniform Style of Binding. Every Volume Complete in Itself. Delightful stories for little boys and girls which sprung into immediate popularity. To know the six little Bunkers is to take them at once to your heart, they are so intensely human, so full of fun and cute sayings. Each story has a little plot of its own--one that can be easily followed--and all are written in Miss Hope's most entertaining manner. Clean, wholesome volumes which ought to be on the bookshelf of every child in the land. SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT GRANDMA BELL'S SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT AUNT JO'S SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT COUSIN TOM'S SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT GRANDPA FORD'S SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT UNCLE FRED'S SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT CAPTAIN BEN'S SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT COWBOY JACK'S SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT MAMMY JUNE'S SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT FARMER JOEL'S SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT MILLER NED'S SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT INDIAN JOHN'S GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK +-----------------------------------------------------+ |Transcriber's Note: | | | |The word catalogue appears in the main text, but is | |catalog in the advertisements at the end of the book.| |Raquette Lake is also shown as Racquette Lake. | +-----------------------------------------------------+ 
33767	----	produced from scanned images of public domain material from the Google Print project.) [Illustration: "UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE"] CAMPWARD HO! A MANUAL FOR GIRL SCOUT CAMPS DESIGNED TO COVER THE NEEDS OF THOSE UNDERTAKING TO ORGANIZE AND DIRECT LARGE, SELF-SUPPORTING CAMPS FOR GIRLS [Illustration: Girl Scouts 1920] GIRL SCOUTS INCORPORATED NATIONAL HEADQUARTERS 189 LEXINGTON AVENUE NEW YORK CITY Copyrighted, 1920 by Girl Scouts, Incorporated McGRAW PHILLIPS PRINTING CO., INC. NEW YORK _When that Aprille with his schowres swoote The drought of March hath perced to the roote, And bathud every veyne in swich licour, Of which vertue engendred is the flour; Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth Enspirud hath in every holte and heeth The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne Hath in the Ram his halfe cours i-ronne, And smale fowles maken melodie, That slepen all the night with open yhe, So priketh hem nature in here corages: Thanne longen folk to gon on pilgrimages._ _Chaucer_ GIRL SCOUTS _Motto_ "BE PREPARED" _Slogan_ "DO A GOOD TURN DAILY" [Illustration] PROMISE On My Honor, I Will Try: To do my duty to God and my Country To help other people at all times To obey the Scout Laws LAWS I A Girl Scout's Honor is to be Trusted II A Girl Scout is Loyal III A Girl Scout's Duty is to be Useful and to Help Others IV A Girl Scout is a Friend to All, and a Sister to Every Other Girl Scout V A Girl Scout is Courteous VI A Girl Scout is a Friend to Animals VII A Girl Scout Obeys Orders VIII A Girl Scout is Cheerful IX A Girl Scout is Thrifty X A Girl Scout is Clean in Thought, Word and Deed FOREWORD Someone has said, "We camp to live with Nature." If living is knowing, let us then while we camp, learn to know the great out-of-doors, and at the same time take advantage of being together, and learn to live as Scouts. It is hoped that this little book will help to solve many problems which arise when planning for and running a camp, particularly a Girl Scout camp. The material in this manual is supplementary to that in the official Handbook, "Scouting for Girls," and is intended to be used in conjunction with it. The information given is the result of experience gained not only as a camp Director and a housekeeper, but as a co-worker with hundreds of Scouts whose needs are very real. Credit is due Miss Emily McClure for her article on Activities, and Miss Catherine Wilkeson for her account of A Deschutes River Fishing Trip. We are glad to have permission to reprint "Water Front Protection for Summer Camps" by Captain Fred C. Mills of the Red Cross Life Saving Corps. The Life Saving Corps is giving the Girl Scouts the most active sort of cooperation throughout the country. Sincere appreciation and thanks are given to Dr. Louise Stevens Bryant, Educational Secretary of the National Girl Scouts, for making the charts and editing the manuscript. CAROLINE LEWIS. CAMPWARD HO! CONTENTS Foreword 7 I Planning for Camp 9 II Camp Directors and Counsellors 15 III The Camper 22 IV The Camp House 28 V General Routine from Opening to Closing Camp 40 VI Camp Records and Accounts 50 VII Equipment 64 VIII The Camp Program 93 IX General Camp Activities 98 X Hikes 127 XI Camp Health and Camp Safety 140 XII Feeding the Multitude 152 XIII A Day in Camp 174 Some Books on Camps and Camping 178 Index 183 I PLANNING FOR CAMP _There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be or have been before, To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal_ --_Lord Byron_ Planning for a camp is a matter of hours of thought and pipe dreaming, every item receiving its due amount of consideration, first in general terms, then in detail, until the whole scheme is so well formulated and all needs so well recognized and provided for that the actual camp comes into existence quite easily and successfully. It is much more economical and satisfactory to change an idea than a building, and it behooves us all to learn the trick as soon as possible. Start to think in the winter; the fall is even better. Begin at the beginning and let no step of the way be slighted. Shall we have a camp, and where shall it be, are the first questions that come to mind. Of course have it, even though it be for a small group only, and very simple as to equipment. The benefits derived by body, mind and soul cannot be over-estimated. The joy of finding and seeing for the first time the things that can only be found and seen in the open, living away from stilted civilization, flings open a door which rarely closes again for any length of time. Most people, and especially children, are not so far away from nature but that love and appreciation of it can be easily awakened by its beauty of color, form and sound, or its prodigality which cannot be rivalled. Then to realize that all humanity is a part of this great system is to love all living things, to know they are good, and that it is fear which calls forth their antagonism, as has been proved time and time again. If such things as these can be learned by living in the open, have we not sufficient reason for providing the means to the end? Someone has said that "cutting the camp out of the Scout year is like leaving the yeast out of the bread." [Illustration: BETWEEN WOOD AND FIELD. Arrangement of wall tents with flys, set up with stakes.] A well ordered camp is built and run on the same lines as a well ordered house, as regards fundamentals. Whether it is made to accommodate a small group or an army, all who gather in it must have certain dominant needs provided for. They must eat, sleep, work, play, keep themselves and their surroundings clean, and live the group life. How these needs are met depends on the individual who makes and executes the plans. One knows how to make his camp comfortable, practical and hospitable wherever it is, and regardless of materials used, meeting all of his daily needs, while another, glorying in simplicity _for a while_, does without comforts which could easily be obtained. Still another casts off all law and order, to say nothing of many necessities, during his stay in the open. But when planning a camp for girls who are to receive the greatest benefits from living out of doors, and living together, there is no reason why their environment should not be made pleasing to the eye, of benefit mentally, a comfort to the body, and in accord with the best known laws which govern camping. Work of the Planning Committee There are specific responsibilities to be borne by Councils or Committees who undertake to promote and establish a Girl Scout camp. The most important of these are first, to secure the money for the initial cost, and second, to obtain a Director. The subsequent work of the Committee will be determined almost entirely by the character and capacity of the Director chosen. The prime requirement for a Camp Director is that she be able to manage a camp and the children. This means first of all, a strong reliable character, with enthusiasm and love and understanding for people, and particularly for young people. She must also have an understanding of the Scout program, as well as the aims and purposes of the Scout organization, for the children in these camps are Scouts. She must have a practical knowledge of the administration of a large household. If in addition to these qualities she is capable of organizing and planning, the Council can feel itself lucky, because their specific work in regard to the camp is ended, and they can with assurance turn over to the Director such questions as choice of location, the camp site, arrangements for transportation, price of board, determining and selection of equipment, the type of children, and the length of the camp year. They must not forget to give the Director not only the responsibility but the requisite authority to act, and perhaps most important, be ready to give her financial backing. [Illustration: THE TENT "GREEN." Conical wall tents accommodating eight cots. Not easy to put up and give little head room.] It must be remembered, however, that many women who are quite capable of running a camp do not have the particular kind of organizing ability or business training needed to establish one in the first place. It may be necessary therefore, for the Committee to divide the work among its members, or even to engage a professional buyer, or business manager. In the rest of this book it has been assumed that the Director is of the former type, and will carry the initial responsibility. Transportation The question of transportation is the first thing to be thought of when considering locations for a Girl Scout camp. The cost, facilities, accessibility and time required would all be determining factors which when settled make it possible to investigate locations within a given radius without waste of time. There are many Scouts who would not go to camp if the cost of transportation equalled the price of one week's board, but who would on the other hand spend two weeks in camp with a smaller transportation cost. The question of shipping equipment and provisions is also to be considered, for these things can be bought to better advantage in large centers and transported by boat or rail to the camp site, than purchased from stores in a small community. Travelling and shipping by boat is cheaper than by rail, and is often more satisfactory. Boat companies will give reduced rates to an organization sending many members on its line, while railroads rarely if ever do so. Suburban trolley lines offer advantages over both boats and railroads, and often take one quite beyond the crowded settlements to spots of real beauty. Unless absolutely necessary do not plan for any transportation that requires a change of cars or boat. A motor or stage ride, or short hike is always to be planned for. Locations Having investigated transportation facilities and charges various locations would next come to mind. Waste no time on those which do not afford a lake, a river, the sea, or a brook of good size, if the camp is to be for a large group and open for several weeks. The daily swim is as essential to the happiness of the average Scout as is her mess, and the adequate water supply for washing purposes is an essential thing to the housekeeper. A village or town which has a post office, telegraph office, a doctor, a store or two, a railroad station or boat landing, is often the camp Director's best friend, and such a place should be within hiking distance of every camp. It is there that arrangements should be made when possible, for supplying the camp with fresh milk, fresh vegetables, bread, and so forth. The risks taken by older people, or the small group that wish to be indeed far from all civilization, cannot be taken by the Director of a camp who has in her care a hundred or more children for every one of whom she is responsible. It is possible, as has been proved, to find a camp site so in the heart of the country or woods that one feels miles away from everything, and still be within reach of modern facilities. The Site The finding of the actual site when once the locality is determined is really quite exciting. So many lovely spots attract one's attention, but as natural beauty often deceives the unknowing, a thorough investigation is the only safe course to pursue. The necessity for a road to the camp site is not to be forgotten. Transportation of people and supplies by row boat is too difficult. Follow the river or brook, search the rim of the lake, or scan the edge of the sea for high ground, a knoll will do, for well drained ground, for the adequate drinking water supply (which must be tested), for fuel in abundance, if wood is to be used, for trees among which tents can be pitched or cabins built for sleeping quarters, for space for the main building, for an open space where games and drill can be enjoyed. Forget not the sun, the prevailing winds, and the western clearing where at the end of the day all the beauties of the sunset can be enjoyed, or the safe place for the campfire where songs and the real Scout Spirit bring the day to a happy end. II CAMP DIRECTORS AND COUNSELLORS No one doubts for a moment that camping is a good thing for children as well as for grown people, but like many so-called "good things" the results accruing from it depend upon the person or persons in charge. For a Girl Scout camp the Director is generally engaged by a council or a committee and is made responsible for the camp as a whole, including the health, safety and happiness of the group, the standards established and the furthering of Scout principles and aims. The Director may engage as assistants, volunteer or paid counsellors. They may be Scout Captains or people who know little about the Scout work, but whoever they are all should qualify as to character, willingness to cooperate, love for children, ability to teach or to do well one or more things, and possess a personality which will make for happiness and success. The number of counsellors will depend on the size of the group and the work to be done. One counsellor for sixteen girls or for every two patrols is none too many. There should be a head counsellor who takes the Director's place when necessary, and who assists her in many ways; a nurse who is responsible for the personal health of the Scouts and who teaches First Aid and Personal Health; a counsellor to have charge of each subject listed on the program, a handy-man if the camp is large and there is much heavy work to be done; a cook and cook's helper, and last but not least, someone to do all that no one else does--keep records of all kinds, write letters, arrange for the coming and going of campers, supervise the canteen, and be helpful generally. [Illustration: Well-built floors keep out ground damp, and make level and steady supports.] It is most desirable when possible to engage Scout leaders as counsellors, but they should qualify as do all other counsellors, for the camp specialties. The Director must think in universal terms and put personal feelings to one side. She must aim for oneness of purpose and solve all problems that seem to block the way. She must be an example always and her imagination, understanding, resourcefulness, strength, and devotion to her work are her tools. She should understand the necessary requirements of the various groups as concerns their religious training and make provisions for helping the girls to live up to these requirements. Those who must go to church every Sunday, observe Feast Days and Fast Days, should have a counsellor of their own faith to be responsible for them. For those girls whose belief makes it necessary to abstain from eating certain foods and being particular as to the dishes they use, arrangements must be made to meet their needs. Because it is not always possible to allow each member of a large group to attend church on Sunday, especially as camps as a rule are not near communities, a simple Scout service should be arranged at which the Scout Promise and Laws are repeated, purely non-sectarian hymns are sung and a short talk given on Scout-like subjects. Great care must be taken to keep this service in accord with the policy of the Scout organization, which is absolutely non-sectarian. A Director's specific duties vary according to the size and type of the camp and the number and duties of her assistants. She should, however, in all cases see that the program adopted is being lived up to, that the camp is in a sanitary and safe condition in every respect, that the proper food is being served, that camp regulations are being obeyed and that any illness is being cared for. She should improve every opportunity to give the children something of usefulness and value by calling their attention to the best and diverting it from all that is not helpful. She should cultivate the ability to read the temperature of the group and when necessary to forestall difficult situations, discuss with it squarely, fairly, openly and truthfully any misunderstanding or dissatisfactions and do away with them as soon as possible. If a Director is responsible for the money spent in running the camp she should see that there is no waste and that the greatest possible returns are procured for all expenditures. These will include such items as food, cartage, labor, salaries, canteen supplies, materials for occupational activities, necessary replenishing of household equipment, and telephone calls. It is hardly possible to equip and run a camp on the income from a low rate of board, but the running expenses should be met and the children will help by cooperating to this end if encouraged to do so, even to the point of cheerfully foregoing some of the things they like and want and are accustomed to having at home. [Illustration: "A SLACK RAG OF CANVAS 'TWIXT YOU AND THE STARS." Shipshape tents secure from wind, set up with stakes.] The condition of the equipment during and at the end of the camp season is largely in the hands of the Director. Careful supervision, and a few rules that are carried out, make it possible to use the same equipment for many seasons before it begins to show wear. An occasional accident may happen but this is unusual. It is well to remember either when working with an individual or a group that it is only possible to form habits by constant repetition. To tell a child to do something and not to see that it is done, is of little value to the child or anyone else. One of the chief duties of a Director is to know that the things are done which have been mapped out as essential to the welfare of the camper. Counsellors should meet often, even daily, with the Director and report on the work being done, make suggestions for improvements and establish a basis of cooperation. At such meetings plans for any special occasion should be made and duties assigned. If the children need time to themselves and entertainments for relaxation and to break the routine, it is also true that the Director and Counsellors must have free time to work out their individual problems and indulge in some form of play. An occasional afternoon out of camp or the opportunity to have a little party by themselves is suggested. In a large camp near the city, a full day a week should be allowed to each Counsellor. The Director's work is unending from the opening to the closing of camp, but she has a rare opportunity to work with girls, to help them in many ways, some of which are quite personal, and perhaps to be an influence for great good in their lives. All depends however, on what she is herself, and what she considers is the purpose of the camp. Personality No one is fitted to be a counsellor in a Girl Scout camp who does not like to work with girls and who does not in a measure understand children. The desire to be with them, to learn from them, and to help them, is the only reason for accepting such a position. In addition one should be equipped to teach at least one subject and able to make it of such interest that it opens the mind to a new world. The ability to cooperate is another essential quality, for when living with a group, we may interpret individually, but what we interpret must be of common understanding. While patience and sympathy are both needed in group living, sentimentality is to be avoided. [Illustration: In high and dry Colorado, wall tents without floors, and put up with ground pegs can suffice.] Hours of work have nothing to do with the duties of a camp counsellor. She is on duty in one sense twenty-four hours out of every day, but her work need not be arduous. If she becomes aware of anything which seems to be, or is likely to become, a detriment to the camp it is her duty to report the matter to the Director. There is a great deal of work which can be done by counsellors which cannot be stipulated, but which rests with them as individuals. The right word at the right moment always bears fruit. A suggestion of tidiness to an untidy girl, a suggestion of kindness to the girl who is quick and impulsive, a suggestion to use better language, or to lower her voice or to improve her table manners, or to be more Scout-like, if made to a child alone, and at an opportune moment, means much and is appreciated. The best results are obtained when we can realize that each child holds within herself the perfect Scout ideal and that because of her limited ideas, lack of understanding, environment, the negative suggestions constantly being made to her, she fails to express it. One work of the camp counsellor is to help her by example, and by word, to give up these erroneous ideas, and to _stress being a Scout_. Nearly all children have a dramatic instinct and love to act. Help them to act the part of a Scout. In this way they are forming a habit that means something. III THE CAMPER A Girl Scout camp is the Scout's own camp, and she should feel the responsibility of making it and keeping it in as Scout-like a way as possible. There are two things for her to work for, the Camp spirit and the maintaining of Scout standards. It is said that with a group, "morale" is in importance to work, as _three_ is to _one_. This theory has been proved by experts who have experimented with small and large groups. It is well to make the Scout Laws the Laws of the camp. They must, however, be understood and lived up to to be effective and for this reason time must be taken each day to talk about them, discuss them and make them of practical value. Fortunately in every Scout camp a group of girls will be found who are born leaders. Those in that group who are awake to the Scout ideals are of the greatest help in all matters and should be encouraged. They can accomplish much by way of example and in some cases can handle a situation as well if not better than a Director. Work delegated to them should be explained carefully and inspected for their sake as well as others, and any lack of thoroughness or judgment pointed out and explained that they may learn the better way. [Illustration: This Mess Hall is open to wind and sun, but rolled up canvas walls are ready to be dropped.] Those girls who are negative in thought and action, should be watched and every effort made to help them to come into line. They are bound to have followers and this group causes trouble generally through misunderstanding and ignorance. There should be but one interest on the part of each camper and that is _to be a Scout_, not only in looks but in thought and deed. This is sometimes hard, for conditions are not all as they are in one's home, and to adjust one's ways of living, especially in regard to eating, is not easy. It might be well for the camper to realize that the object of a Scout camp is to give the best and as much as can be paid for by the income from board, and that the price of board is small in order that all Scouts may share in the joys of living in the open. With these facts in mind it is easier to accept conditions that may not be just to our liking. Wherever we choose to live, indoors or out of doors, alone or as one of a group, we have to face certain facts which must be dealt with and not ignored if we would be healthy and happy and have our surroundings livable. In dealing with these facts there is certain work to be done which a good many people call "drudgery," but if this work were neglected those very people would be the first to complain. We must eat to live, therefore, food must be prepared, cooked, and served, dishes washed and wiped, tables set, and kitchen and mess hall kept clean in every respect. We must sleep to maintain health so beds and bed-clothing are necessary. These need care as well as the sleeping room, and all personal belongings in it. We must be clean to be decent, and try as hard as we will, trash collects and must be properly disposed of. Wash houses and latrines are necessary and they must be kept clean. Who should be more interested in doing this work and in doing it well than the Scout herself? She should take the greatest pride in keeping her camp up to the highest standard always. It can be done without great effort on the part of any one Scout if each one tries to remember a few things, among them: 1. That thoughtfulness reduces the amount of work to be done and saves time and money. [Illustration: "BY THE SHINING BIG SEA WATER." A Mess Tent for use in clear, dry weather.] 2. That unless the work _is_ done conditions will be unbearable and camp will close. 3. That the work she does benefits herself as well as others. It is the waste and trash thrown or laid down where it does not belong, work half done that has to be done over, thinking of our own desires instead of the Scout standards, that are at the root of any trouble. Do not call the camp duties drudgery, call them opportunities for service. 4. The fact that the Girl Scout pays board does not absolve her from this work. If the Scouts do all that they can to be of service, and serve cheerfully, many opportunities are offered them that otherwise would be prohibitive. Every girl entering a Scout camp has placed before her a camp program which if taken advantage of offers her the best the camp affords. There are always girls who accept the program and use it in full. They know that in order to BE PREPARED they must grasp every opportunity to develop along Scout lines. On the other hand there are girls who seem too lacking in interest, too blind to the opportunities, too inert to take advantage of it, and they leave camp having missed the very things for which they came. The helpful Scouts who belong to the former group are real camp helpers, and the Director can always depend upon them, the Counsellors can depend upon them, and they are the power which makes or mars the success of the camp. It is in camp that girls have the opportunity to express themselves along lines quite different from those used during their ordinary daily life. Entertainments are always hailed with delight, and any Scout who does a good stunt, takes part in a play, or gives expression through dancing, reciting, or singing, is contributing to the fun and joy of all. Aside from parties and plays and other fun-giving times, there is Scout work which can be done in camp better than anywhere else. This work includes the study of nature lore, woodcraft, certain forms of handicraft, swimming, and hiking. The advantage of spending a part of each day on these subjects as well as the Grade Tests and Merit Badge tests, is found in the fact that the Counsellors are prepared to give the work in the best possible way and under the best conditions. Also there is inspiration in seeing what other girls do and in trying to do as well if not a little better. Then too, what is learned in camp is taken back home to the girls who have not been privileged to go to camp, and they gain through the camper's experience. There are a few things which every Scout should know after living in the open for a few weeks. One is that we are dependent upon people, and that people are dependent upon us; therefore, we must equip ourselves to give; another is that the great out of doors is full of interesting things which can give us far greater happiness if we learn to know them and try for a time for each year to live with them, than the things to which we turn during the winter for recreation and excitement. [Illustration: THE CAMP LIVING ROOM] IV THE CAMP HOUSE _"Here's life: a slack rag of canvas 'twixt you and the stars.... Not penned in a thing four-square and murk, but free On your feet, a thumbed road-map your guide, worlds ahead, God above; For companions, the seasons; for events, the blue birds, the magpies, Butterflies, columbines, all the myriad throng of the road folk, Chance-met. That, I say, is to live."_ TENTS The kind of shelter which will be suitable and practicable for your camp depends more or less upon the number of people to be accommodated, the length of the camp season, and the camp site. For short time camps, for small groups, or for older people, or when building is impossible, tents only can be used. In such cases there would be need of a tent for a mess and assembly room, a tent for the kitchen, a small waterproof tent in which to store provisions, a small tent for covering a latrine and tents for sleeping quarters. The main tent for a mess hall and assembly room combined, should be large, placed with some regard for a view of the surrounding country, sun, air and general camp scheme. (p. 25.) It should be furnished with tables, benches, and so forth, all of which can be moved out of the way when the room is to be used for recreational purposes. The kitchen should not be too far away, but back of the main tent and should be so placed that all of the air possible may blow through it. There should be a long cook table with a shelf over it, if possible, hung from the ridge pole, or supported with uprights fastened to the table. Also a table which can be used for dish washing. It would be well to have in addition to the kitchen stove which is in this tent, cooking fire places outside of the tent which could be used in pleasant weather. One of the most practical of these is built of stone, with a back wall and two sides, with two rods, the ends resting on the side walls and near enough together to hold the average size pots and kettles. If stones are not available two large logs can be placed V shape not quite meeting at the narrow end, 1-1/2 feet apart at the other end, and the fire built in between. Cross bars of iron or a grating can be put over the fire to hold the pots and kettles. While it is convenient and practical to use out of door fire places for cooking when the group is very small it is most difficult to do so when the group is large. The work can be done, however, with greater ease by the use of the iron bars already spoken of. [Illustration: BUSINESS END OF THE CAMP HALL] The storage tent can have portable shelves and a low platform on which to place barrels, boxes, and so forth. This tent should be pitched under a large tree where it will be in the shade all of the time. A good store closet can be made by digging into the side of a hill, boarding the inside or facing it with stone and putting in shelves, and having a very thick, well fitted door. A more simple storage room, but not advisable except for a small camp, is to dig a hole in the ground, line it with stone, place boards over the top, leave a small opening for a lid or a hinged trap door and cover the boards with earth, leaving the door free. If ice is available a piece put into a pail can be set in this compartment. In all of these out of door store places great care must be taken that no animals, insects or flies get at the provisions. Covered tins, or dishes and bags can be used for safety. When the camp is to be opened only for a short period it is quite possible to put provisions into pails tightly covered and set in running water in the shade. Type of Tents Whenever tents are to be used in a camp, they should be purchased with care and pitched properly. There are on the market several different types of tents: the army wall tent (p. 10.) which should always be pitched with a fly and be opened at both ends, the conical and the pyramidal tents. The two latter are not recommended for general use. They are erected with one center pole, which is always in the way, and have to be pegged to the ground, thus making guy ropes a nuisance rather than a convenience. These tents are, however, picturesque in effect. (p. 12.) When ordering tents always stipulate the size and the weight and width of the material to be used. Army duck, 10 oz. double fill for the tent and 8 oz. double fill for the fly, width 29 inches, will give the best satisfaction. [Illustration: The Wash House for Personal and Laundry use. Faucets hang from above. Inclined trough between two shelves, the whole, zinc covered, runs length of house. Two soapstone tubs for extra hard scrubbing at right. Special compartment at left for officers.] The size of the tents for sleeping will depend somewhat on the character of the site. Where the ground is very sloping, trees close, space limited, small tents will have to be used; either 7 x 9 or 9 x 9's. These tents which will accommodate two people, should always be used to house counsellors, but are not recommended for children as a general thing. The larger tents, 14 x 14 or 14 x 16 will accommodate eight cots and give ample space for personal equipment. For short trips there are small lightweight, waterproof tents which can be rolled so that they take up very little space in transportation. They are pitched over ground cloths, with one pointed rod and metal spikes for pegging the tent to the ground. These tents hold two people. (pp. 78, 80, 82.) The Tent Floor and Support Tents should always be pitched over wooden floors which are raised well from the ground. (p. 16.) They should be built with square corners and braced on the under side. The dimensions of each floor should be the same as the length and width of the tent to be pitched over it. They should only be put into place after considering the direction of the sun, the prevailing winds, their relation to each other and the general camp plan. Large floors should be raised several inches from the ground and supported with posts or flat stones at each corner, at the center of each side and at intervals under the center of the floor to keep them from sagging. When putting up a wall tent instead of using pegs, build a frame work running parallel to the sides of the tent to which the guy ropes can be fastened. (p. 18) This frame is made by driving into the ground opposite the two sides of the tent floor, and 3 feet from it, three posts, each 3 or 4 inches in diameter, and long enough to extend when set, above the tent floor a distance equal to the height of the tent wall, plus five inches. One post should be placed opposite the center of each side, the others on a line with it and opposite the corners of the floor. Nail securely to the outside of the posts and two or three inches from the tops a strip which will extend beyond the end posts 6 or 8 inches. Unless the ground is rocky the posts need not be braced. If care is taken to measure and place the posts correctly the frame will be evenly made and look trim. Small tree trunks can be used for posts and strips, where wood is plentiful; otherwise 2 x 4's can be used. Where tent floors are found to be prohibitive, tents must be pitched over dry, well drained ground. In addition a ground cloth should be used and a ditch dug on either side of the tent to carry off rain water. [Illustration: Camp for a single Scout Troop. Three tents and simple accessories enough for week-end trip.] Tents without floors are of course used when hiking or camping for a short time only, or in exceptional climates. (p. 20.) Specific directions for pitching tents are given in a later section. A small group of girls wishing to build their own camp could make two or three lean-tos, using trees five or six inches in diameter, saplings, boughs and vines, the latter for binding the thatch roof to the beams. The lean-tos should be faced so the sun will shine into them some part of the day, turned away from the prevailing winds and each one should have in front of it a fireplace to be used for cooking as well as for keeping the lean-to dry and warm. (pp. 105, 110, 112.) A group of girls could also build a slab house with a good floor, a wooden roof covered with tar paper, windows, door and even build a fireplace, the completed building giving them permanent camp quarters. (pp. 96, 118, 122.) LOG HOUSES Whenever possible it is most desirable to erect for the main camp building a house, rustic in design if built in the woods, (p. 23.) which includes a large room for mess hall and recreational purposes, kitchen, store closet, ice room. (Cut A.) The types and floor plans of such houses vary greatly, but certain things are essential in all. They should afford protection in bad weather, some warmth in cold weather, ample space for serving mess, room for entertainments, meetings and so forth; a conveniently arranged kitchen, and proper facilities for the care of food. Some of these houses are built with the main room simply roofed over and railed in. As delightful as these open mess halls are in pleasant weather, they are not altogether practicable in all climates, and under all weather conditions. Some protection is gained by enclosing the room to a height of 3-1/2 or 4 feet and having the eaves overhang for 3 feet, or by having canvas curtains which can be raised or lowered in bad weather. If the room is enclosed entirely it should have many large windows, and wide outside doors. The main feature in the room should be the fireplace. (p. 27.) The larger it is the better so long as it is in keeping with its surroundings. The benches and tables should be made and arranged so they can be easily moved out of the way when extra floor space is needed. There should be a door leading into the kitchen and a serving window near the door, with a broad shelf on either side of it. The kitchen needs many windows and a back door conveniently placed. (p. 29.) [Illustration: A. Floor Plan for Mess Hall for Camp of 150 to 200 Girls] The kitchen should be equipped with a good stove having ovens and hot water tank and be large enough to admit of holding big boilers and kettles. If there is no hot water tank a large boiler can be kept on top of the stove in which to heat water. Better still, when possible, use a Standard Oil oil heater and boiler, and have hot water pipe connections. This of course is only possible when there is a tank and power of some kind to pump up the water. There should be in the kitchen ample table space, convenient places for keeping all pots and kettles, hanging spoons and other small articles, a generous wood box that there may always be dry wood at hand, and if there is running water a sink conveniently placed. The store closet should open out of the kitchen and be on the north side of the house. It should have a raised platform 18 or 20 inches wide, against the wall on one side of the room, on which should be placed all barrels, large boxes, etc. holding food. There should be ample shelf space, a broad table, plenty of ventilation, and all windows should be covered with netting. If possible to have an ice box it can stand in this room. Better than a portable ice box is an ice room which is built into one corner of the store room, the walls, floor and ceiling of which are double, lined with tar paper and the space of four inches between them filled with sawdust or cork. The door into the store room should be very heavy, made double and fitted closely. The small ice door can be on the outside of the building, made like the large door, fitted closely and opening into the ice compartment. The ice compartment should be lined with zinc and a slatted door should open into it from the ice room. The bottom of the ice compartment should tip slightly to one corner from which an overflow pipe should be run to the outside of the building. A slat bottom made in sections and placed in the compartment protects the zinc and helps to preserve the ice. The ice compartment can be high enough from the floor to admit of large milk cans, tubs of butter, etc., being stored under it. Shelves can be placed along the sides of the walls. The ice room should be ventilated by means of a vent pipe up through the roof to the open. Such a building as described makes housekeeping for a family of one hundred and fifty or two hundred possible, with only one cook and a squad of Scouts. In place of tents for sleeping quarters small cabins made of wood and screening, or wood, canvas and screening, can be used. They add greatly to the expense of building the camp, but being permanent do away with the expense and labor of taking down and storing. It is sometimes possible to find an old house or a barn which can be utilized for camp quarters, and with a little ingenuity made most attractive and practical. There is a great deal to be learned by living in a well-planned, well-ordered house or camp, much of which is of lasting value. For this reason no opportunity should be lost to give these advantages to the Scouts. Wash House A wash house for general use is most desirable. Where there is no running water a long table covered with zinc and placed under a tent fly, a board walk either side of the table, and three or four large pitchers for water is a good arrangement. This equipment should be placed in an open, sunny spot where the drainage is good, and away from the tents if the waste water is to be thrown out on the ground. Where a group is small every six or eight girls may have a shelf placed between two trees, which would serve as a wash stand. Pitchers must be provided for each stand and a system for keeping them filled worked out. A type of wash house which is most satisfactory where there is plumbing, is made as follows. (p. 31.) Build an oblong platform and over it a roof supported by posts and covered with tar paper. Through the center of the house build a trough, with inclined bottom, and a shelf slightly tipped toward the trough, either side of it. Cover the inside of the trough and the shelves with zinc. At the lower end of the trough have a waste pipe which runs into a cesspool. Over the trough supported from the roof run a water pipe from which depend at intervals, pipes with automatic faucets. At the low end of the trough two wash tubs can be placed at right angles to the wash table both of which should connect with the trough drain pipe. Enclose the other end of the house and make two small private wash rooms, the partition between them being over and under the center of the trough, a faucet in each. These rooms are to be used by counsellors, or by children when given special permission. [Illustration: Name_____________________________ Age____ Address__________________________________ Parent's Name____________________________ Telephone No.________________ Arrives_____________ Leaves______________ Tent____ Cot____ On Entrance On Leaving Height ____ins. ____ins. Weight ____lbs. ____lbs. B. Tag for Scouts arriving in Camp. Should be 5" by 3" and filed for use in camp record.] CAMP REGULATIONS The Scout Laws are the Laws of this camp: apply them at all times and see what happens. Camp boundaries are for a purpose, do not go beyond them without permission from a counsellor or the Director. Rest hours, from taps to reveille and after dinner, are a necessity to health; observe them by sleeping. Do not talk, it disturbs others. For the sake of cleanliness take no food of any kind, or liquids of any kind into any tent used for sleeping quarters. Keep the Health Record of the camp high by reporting at once to the nurse or Director any sickness, accident or ill health. First aid supplies when required can be obtained from the nurse, no one else is to touch them. Trash boxes are labor saving devices, use them for all trash, rather than throwing the trash on the ground. Food sent or brought to camp for individual Scouts will not be delivered. V GENERAL ROUTINE FROM OPENING TO CLOSING CAMP After the site is obtained, necessary buildings finished, grounds cleaned, stove in place, water tested and connections made if there is to be plumbing, the equipment and provisions should be sent in to camp. A week is none too long a time to allow, even if there are many hands to unpack, put the camp in running order, make out the program, camp regulations, etc., and select sites for classes. If possible have the counsellors spend this week in camp with the Director and help in doing this work. Being together for work and some play will prepare them to take up the duties of the summer and if any of them are not Scouts then is the time to tell them of the Scout work, its aims and so forth. Without this information it is difficult to have true cooperation. When opening a large camp be sure, when the campers arrive, to have it in the condition in which it is to be kept. First impressions are deep impressions as a rule, even though unfair many times. Pitching Tents Perhaps the most difficult work to be done, especially for one who knows little about it is the pitching of the tents, yet when simple rules are followed the task is not beyond a group of young women even when the tents are large. Remember that the beauty of a tent lies in its trimness. It should look smart. The canvas must have no wrinkles, poles must be straight, ropes taut and properly fastened. First of all see that the tent floors and frame work are as they should be, or lacking a frame work, that pegs are at hand. Examine poles and make sure they are of the right height and length for the tent. If a wall tent is to be pitched lay it on floor, inside down, the fly on top of it. Run the ridge pole under the center of the tent from end to end curved side next to the canvas; at either end of the tent at right angles to the ridge pole and parallel to each other place a tent pole which is the right length for the height of the tent. Put the spindle in the end of each pole through the holes in the ridge pole, and the eyelets in the tent and tent fly ridge. [Illustration: SERVING TABLE] Two people, one at each pole, on signal, raise the tent into position by lifting the poles and carrying them into place. They should stand opposite each other, at the center of either end of the tent floor. While the poles are held in place, two other people should fasten temporarily the corner ropes of the tent and fly. Tie the flaps into position, fasten the corner rope loops in the bottom edge of the tent to nails in the edge of the floor, and proceed to adjust the guy ropes. Do not pull the tent out of line or have one rope tighter than another. Use a clove hitch for tying the ropes to the strips. The ropes of the tent should go under the strip for the first turn, the fly ropes over. By so doing the roof of the tent and the fly will be kept apart, a most important point; in fact they should never touch except at the ridge. Fasten the tent to the floor by putting the rope loops in the bottom of the tent over long nails driven into the edge of the tent floor at the proper places. When all ropes are fastened and the tent looks as it should, loosen the bottom at each end, untie the flaps, and hold them back by fastening one of the ropes in the bottom of the flap into the loop at the top corner of the tent wall. Put the tent number on each pole. Cots can now be opened and placed, blankets shaken, sunned, folded and put on the foot of the cots with a pillow inside of each blanket. Basins go under the cots toward the head. While four or five people are attending to the sleeping quarters others should be washing, wiping and putting away all table ware, and the cook arranging the kitchen, store room and ice house. All small equipment must be put in place; a tent or room provided for the nurse's quarters and First Aid supplies unpacked, an office equipped with all necessities, counsellors' tents put in order, firewood stacked, lanterns cleaned and filled, wash houses, latrines, bath house, boats in readiness, program and camp regulations posted, in short, everything in order, for when one hundred or more Scouts descend upon a camp, everyone is kept busy helping them and there is no time to be given to equipment. Special mention must be made of two things: first, the precautionary need of fire extinguishers to be hung in the kitchen, mess hall, and other wooden buildings, (buckets of water not being advised unless chemical extinguishers are not obtainable); second, the importance of the Director's office being equipped with record books, files, stationery, and a money box; all very simple, but there. [Illustration: SORTING THE VEGETABLES] A small group of Scouts can make ready their own camp in many cases, but it does not seem feasible for a large group to do so. Housekeeping Outdoors Because in camp we live in the open, and away from the conventional surroundings of city life, is no reason why we should feel that anything is good enough, as concerns the table and the serving of meals. The way the table is set, the food brought to it, served, dishes removed, washed and wiped, does make a difference to everyone of us whether we are conscious of it or not. Certain work has to be done and it is far better to do it in an efficient way and in a way which will help us, than it is to do it in an easy way, and perhaps get into very bad habits. It makes no difference of what material dishes are made, or what the tablecloth is, there is no excuse for not having everything clean and orderly and attractive in its very simplicity. The camp table should be as well set and according to the same rules, in as far as possible, as those a Second Class Scout follows in her test. Those who act as waitresses should do so with as much care and understanding of the right way to do the work as do those Scouts who work for the Hostess Badge. [Illustration: TEAM WORK IN POTATO PARING] Dishes should be washed and wiped and dish towels washed according to the rules laid down by the best authorities. (p. 61.) A good housewife throws away nothing that can be utilized. Therefore, what is left in the serving dishes after a meal is over should be taken to the kitchen, all of one kind put into a dish and kept for future use. If quantities are well gauged and each Scout eats all that she takes on her plates, there should be very little waste from the table. There are two ways of clearing a table, washing the dishes, and so forth, which are used in camps. One is considered easier than the other because it divides the work among the entire group, but there is a question as to whether it is as sanitary a way as the other, or as helpful to the Scout. It is the method of having eight campers scrape their dishes, stack them, fall in line, dishes in hand, and in succession wash, rinse and wipe them in pans and with towels common to that one group. As can readily be seen this methods breaks the rules being taught to Scouts as to the proper way of washing dishes: namely, to wash glass, first, silver next, change the water and wash saucers, cups, plates and so forth. No mother would think of having each member of the family stack her dishes, take them to the sink, wash and wipe them and put them away. This method would be considered most inefficient and confusing. A better way is to have two girls from every table of sixteen, responsible for the dining room work, this work to be done under supervision and according to the most approved standards. Of course, this work is relayed so that each girl has a chance to learn it. There are many young women with homes of their own whose houses are badly run because they have no idea how the daily housework should be done. They cannot do it themselves and they cannot direct another. The camp is the one place where the Scout can learn what to do and how to do it, and use for the benefit of a large group the training which she receives. There is not a mother who is not anxious to have her child know how to do these homely tasks in the right way. [Illustration: THE TOWN PUMP] With a counsellor presiding at each table to help in serving and maintaining order, there is no reason why each girl should not learn if she has not already done so, the simple table manners which add so much to her attractiveness. People are not born with good table manners; they acquire them by being taught and by watching others, and sometimes a good appetite and being hungry makes them unmindful of others and of what they do, even if they have been taught. There is no desire on the part of any Director to make of her camp a finishing school, but she should be filled with a keen desire to make the most of every opportunity to give what will be of help to the girls as Scouts and as women. The time spent at the table can be most profitably filled by guiding the conversation into interesting channels and by being merry, while eating. The Mess Hall should always be kept swept, either a fire burning, or a fire laid on the hearth if there is one, fresh flowers on the tables. If the room is used also as a recreation room it may be possible to have a writing table with writing materials on it for the benefit of all campers. Closing Camp As the camp days begin to draw to a close prepare for that last day when every bit of equipment must be packed away, every nook and corner left clean and the last camper silently steals away. Use what provisions are on hand, buy only what is needed from day to day. Begin to pack and clear out wherever possible, but do not let this work interfere with the program which should be continued to within a day or two of closing, or the giving of a last grand party, a fancy dress or masquerade affair with "eats," as campers would say. The Scouts can be most helpful after their personal equipment is packed and out of the tents. They can assemble blankets, pillows and basins, sweep tent floors, collect and burn all trash, leaving the grounds clean. When all is ready for their departure let Assembly sound and with every Scout in line on the field, have the colors lowered. Then come goodbyes and general leave-takings. It is well for the Director personally to inspect the Scouts before they leave camp, that she may know in a general way their condition. This can be done after they assemble and before the flag is lowered. If arrangements are made with the counsellors to remain for a few days after the Scouts leave, all working part of the time and playing some of the time, camp can be closed without much difficulty. Tents must be taken down, folded and numbered to correspond with tent pole and ridge pole numbers. No tent should be folded till dry, as it is sure to mildew if put away damp. [Illustration: SCRUBBING UP BEFORE MEALS] Blankets must be carefully inspected, shaken, brushed and allowed to hang in the sun all day before folding evenly, counting and packing for the winter. If there are any signs of soil they should be cleansed before storing. If boxed or laid on shelves or benches and covered snugly they can be kept in perfect condition. Pillows should be treated in the same way as blankets as regards care and storage. Lanterns should be emptied and cleaned. All dishes should be washed, wiped, counted, packed in barrels. All kitchen ware should be treated in the same way. Any provisions left--there should be practically none--can be disposed of by selling or giving away. Amount and kind will determine that question. The kitchen stove must be cleaned and if it is to remain in camp should be covered with grease and boarded up unless it is to be used during the winter by campers. Store all equipment in a dry, light room and _do not fail to have it insured_. The Director should be the last one to leave camp. She should make a round of inspection and be sure all is well before closing the camp doors for the long winter months. VI CAMP RECORDS AND ACCOUNTS Not only is the keeping of camp records a necessity, but certain records are of great value in planning future camps. Also personal records are of value during the winter to Local Councils and Directors, and in some cases to the National Headquarters. Every Scout entering camp should have a record tag similar to the one shown in Cut B, which when filled out is kept on file during her stay in camp, and transferred to another file the day she leaves camp. Her height and weight should be taken in camp the day of or the day after her arrival, and if possible when she is in her bathing suit. Similar measurements should be taken the day she leaves camp. A personal record of all tests passed may be kept on the back of the card. It would be of interest to parents and of value to the Director when making out a camp report. Tent Record A tent record in convenient form is absolutely necessary. Scouts entering camp in large groups on a given date must be placed with as little delay as possible. Those approximately of one age should be in the same tents. Also friends like to be together. To know at a glance what cots are Vacant in any one tent is of help. Also at a glance the length of time a child has been in camp can be told, the date of coming and going being recorded. The accompanying Cut C shows a system which has served its good uses in more than one camp. Perhaps it will be of service to others. A sheet of fairly heavy paper for each tent record can be used, and all sheets put in a cover and held in place by clips. The dates of the month when groups can enter camp are placed at the left. Every square means a week. Ditto marks mean "remaining in camp," and X means leaving camp and signifies an empty cot. At a glance three cots are seen to be vacant on August 6th, and when new Scouts arrive, as they should after the outgoing group has gone, it is not difficult for the Director to place them. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- TENT NO I ------|------|------|------|---------|---------|-------|------|------- Cot# | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 ------|------|------|------|---------|---------|-------|------|------- July | Jones| Brown| Wood |Frilop |Di Santo |Foster |Kearns|Tierney 1 | | | | | | | | ------|------|------|------|---------|---------|-------|------|------- | | x | | x | | | | 8 | " |Rees | " | Rice | " | " | " | " ------|------|------|------|---------|---------|-------|------|------- | | | x | | | | x | 15 | " | " |Fay | " | " | " |Greer | " ------|------|------|------|---------|---------|-------|------|------- 22 | " | " | " | " | " | " | " | " ------|------|------|------|---------|---------|-------|------|------- | x | | | | x | x| | x 29 |Green | " | " | " | | | " | Warren ------|------|------|------|---------|---------|-------|------|------- August| | x | | x | | | | 6 | " | | " | Phillips| | | " | ------|------|------|------|---------|---------|-------|------|------- | | | x| | | | | 13 | " | | | | | | | ------|------|------|------|---------|---------|-------|------|------- 20 | " | | | | | | | ------|------|------|------|---------|---------|-------|------|------- 27 | " | | | | | | | ------|------|------|------|---------|---------|-------|------|------- [Illustration: C. Tent Chart for assigning reservations] Health Certificate [Illustration: HEALTH CERTIFICATE The following must be filled out by a physician _within three days_ of the time the girl enters camp. It should preferably be done by someone who has known her for some time. The object of this certificate is: (1) to safeguard child and others against contagious diseases; (2) to make a basis for judging the suitability of camp life for her, and make possible any necessary precautions, particularly in regard to exercise. I, ......................................................... have this day,......................,19 personally examined ............................................................ ........years, of................................,........., and believe the following to be a complete statement as to her health and bodily condition: _Contagious disease_: State child's condition and whether she has been exposed and if any quarantine is necessary. _Nutrition_: Excellent Good Fair Poor Very Poor _Anemia_: Hemoglobin content: _Prepubertal_ or _postpubertal_. Menstruation: Established Any disturbance? _Eyes_: R L Glasses? _Ears_: R L _Nose_: _Throat_: _Teeth_: _Muscles_: _General Nervous System_: _Stomach_: _Bowels_: _Skin_: _Head_: _Skeletal_: Back Feet _Temperature_: _Heart_: Rhythm: Sounds: Any disturbance? _Blood Pressure_: Systolic: Diastolic: Compensation: _Lungs_: As a general summing-up of recommendations in regard to whole condition outlined above, I recommend the following: 1. Diet: 2. Rest: 3. Exercise: a. Should keep quiet. b. Can exercise moderately. c. Any reasonable exercise. d. Can take heavy exercise. e. Can (cannot) walk swim run jump climb 4. General camp life: 5. Additional notes:] Another record of great importance and interest is the Health Certificate shown on page 52, which should be kept on file in camp and later in the office of the Local Council for a period of three months, and then forwarded to the National Headquarters, Girl Scouts, Education Department, for use in compiling a Scout Health record. If during a Scout's stay in camp she is ill, meets with an accident or needs the attention of a nurse in any way, the date, a note stating the trouble, and what was done for the child, as well as her height and weight at entrance and leaving, can be entered on the back of the certificate. The form shown was made by the Education Department of National Headquarters of Girl Scouts, and it is expected that it will be on sale and available for use by all Local Councils. Petty Cash Record The petty cash record is an important department of record keeping. A day book, balanced each day, should be carefully kept noting all income and expenditures, and if much money passes through the cash box the Director should have a petty cash bank account in order properly to care for it. Canteen Record The canteen record is perhaps the most difficult as it is a combination of a wholesale and a retail transaction and more or less involved in the general house expenses. Not only should a record be kept of all goods purchased at wholesale, as to quantity and price and when bill is paid, but a record of daily sales is absolutely necessary. Canteen cash at the end of each day should be handed over to the Director and entered in the petty cash book. The accompanying Cut D is a suggested form for keeping the canteen accounts. Record of Provisions and Equipment [Illustration: THE CAMP CANTEEN 1. SAMPLE DAILY CASH ACCOUNT (Report by Items as Sold) -----|-----|----------------------------|-----------------------------|-------|-------|-----|----- Date | | APPLES | CHOCOLATE BARS | | | | -----|-----|----------------------------|-----------------------------| Day |Rec'd |Short|Over | |Rec'd Ret'd Sold Price Total|Rec'd Ret'd Sold Price Total | Total | | | -----|-----|----------------------------|-----------------------------|-------|-------|-----|----- July | 6 | 50 30 20 $0.05 $1.00 | 30 10 20 $0.07 1.40 | $2.40 | $2.28 |$0.12| | 7 | 40 20 20 .05 1.00 | 20 0 20 .07 1.40 | 2.40 | 2.45 | |$0.05 | 8 | 60 20 40 .04 1.60 | 40 5 35 .07 2.45 | 4.05 | 4.05 | | | 9 | 50 25 25 .05 1.25 | 30 10 20 .07 1.40 | 2.65 | 2.72 | |$0.07 | 10 | 40 10 30 .05 1.50 | 20 0 20 .07 1.40 | 2.90 | 2.90 | | | 11 | 30 0 30 .05 1.50 | 20 0 20 .07 1.40 | 2.90 | 2.90 | | -----|-----|----------------------------|-----------------------------|-------|-------|-----|---- Wkly. Total. 270 105 165 $7.85 |160 25 135 $9.45 |$17.30 |$17.30 | | ----------------------------------------|-----------------------------|-------|-------|-----|---- 2. WHOLESALE CANTEEN ACCOUNT: MONTHLY ----------------------------------------------|----------------------------------- RECEIVED IN JULY | PAID IN JULY ----|--|-------------------------------|------|------------|------|--------------- Date| | | | Date | | Notes July| 3| 3 bbls. Apples @ $5.00 |$15.00|July 8 Cash |$15.00|Try Russets next | | 2 boxes Oranges @ $3.00 | 6.00| Cash | 6.00| | 5| 1 case Tomatoes | 2.50| 10 Check| 2.50|Indian Brand | | 4 boxes Chocolate Bars @ $1.20| 4.80| 12 Cash | 4.80|Too small ----|--|-------------------------------|------|------------|------|--------------- Monthly Total |$28.30| |$28.30| ---------------------------------------|------|------------|------|---------------- D. Camp Canteen Account Forms. The Canteen should buy from general camp stores and keep account with camp Director] A very careful record must be kept of all provisions ordered, and when the goods are delivered the lists should be checked. No bills for food should be paid that have not been viséed by the Director. A record of all equipment and notes as to the condition it is in should be made at the close of each camp season. Miscellaneous Records Where there are materials furnished for any camp activities such as raffia and reed for basketry there should be a separate record kept for this department. Many times the Scouts who make baskets are anxious to buy them and by charging a small price beyond cost the department can pay for itself and possibly show a small profit. A general day book, sometimes called the Camp Log, is not only of interest at the end of the season, but if a few comments are added to facts the book may be of real value another year. It is always a good plan to make a note of any occasion which particularly pleases, or is of special benefit, for these notes are of service particularly when circumstances do not seem the brightest. Many times a suggestion is all that is necessary to turn the tide of the whole day. Such a book is of help in writing a report. It is sometimes interesting for the children to keep a record of the different kinds of wild flowers found and the birds seen in the vicinity of the camp. Field day programs and records are also of interest. Another record is of hikes taken by campers during the summer. The route, the time of starting, the hour of returning, the number of girls who took the hike and any special point of interest noticed on the way, may be recorded. The Keeping of Records [Illustration: Twin Lake Council of Girl Scouts Western Lane, New England I hereby make application for: Name............................ Age....... Address................... Tel. No......... Troop No....... City....................................... To enter the Girl Scout Camp: July......... August....... And leave July......... August....... September..... and I hereby agree to pay in advance to the Twin Lake Council the transportation charge from Western Lane of $2.00 and to pay board at the rate of $6.00 per week, payable in advance weekly. Date.......... Signed......................... Relation: E. Application Form] The keeping of the Scout's application, deposit, board and transportation record plus the responsibility of so planning that there is never a vacant cot in camp is a matter which takes a great deal of time at best, but which can be more easily done if a good system is used. The records are generally kept in the office of the Local Council under whose direction the camp is opened and run. Application blanks, (Cut E) should be filed according to date of entering camp and kept on file under the heading "In Camp," as long as the Scout is there, then transferred to the "Left Camp" file and kept for reference. Ten days prior to the date of entering camp a follow-up notice should be sent to each Scout who should report to the local office, pay for transportation, receive tickets for same, pay for first week's board and receive a receipt for same. The identification tag which must be taken to camp and given to the Director upon arrival should be filled in and given to the Scout, when she leaves. In addition to the individual account card (Cut F.) record, all money received for deposits, transportation or board should be entered in a camp day book and deposited under camp account. Any donations received for camp may also be entered in this book and deposited as "Donations." [Illustration: --------------------------------------------------------------- |Name...........................................................| | | |Address........................................................| |---------+------------------------------+-------+-------+------| | | | | | | | 1920 | | Money | Check | Cash | | Dates | | Order | | | | Mar. 1 |Filed Application, Paid | | | | | | Deposit | 1.00 | | | | July 1 | Enters Camp | | | | | July 22 | Leaves Camp | | | | | June 28 | Paid for Transportation | | | 2.00| | June 21 | Paid for first week's board | 5.00 | | | | July 1 | Paid for second week's board | | 6.00 | | | July 15 | Paid for third week's board | 6.00 | | | ---------+------------------------------+-------+-------+------ F. Individual Account Card] The Local Office should notify the camp Director at least two days before sending Scouts into camp, as to the number and the names of Scouts who will report to her, and thus give the Director time, if space allows, to arrange for any girl or girls who may desire to remain in camp for an additional week. [Illustration: THE BREAD LINE] The Director in turn must send to the Local Office a list of all Scouts leaving camp that any unexpected vacancies may be filled from the waiting list and accounts adjusted. The Camp Budget Every camp should be run on a budget; that is, according to a plan of expenditure made on the best information available. Even if circumstances alter the original plan, as they are apt to do, each dollar whose expenditure is planned for will be found to bring in considerably more return than the casually disbursed one. The following items to be considered in any camp budget are given in order of their numerical importance: 1. Food. Includes carriage cost. 2. Equipment. General and Special. The General and Special Equipment will be considered permanent camp property requiring renewal and replacement at various annual rates. 3. Transportation. This will cover all railway charges and boat fares for Scouts and counsellors, and shipping charges on general merchandise other than food. 4. Rental or Purchase Price of Land. This may or may not include rent on the houses, and will vary accordingly. CAMP BUDGET PROVIDING FOR 134 SCOUTS AND 16 ADULTS FOR 10 WEEKS --------------------------------------------------------------------- FIRST YEAR FOLLOWING YEARS Distribution of Distribution of Total $1,000 Total $1,000 1 Food $3,000||||||||||||||||300 $3,000||||||||||||||||395 2 Equipment 2,800|||||||||||||280 400||||53 3 Transportation 1,000||||||100 1,000|||||||||||130 4 Rent 700|||||70 700|||||||92 5 Salaries[A] 700|||||70 700|||||||92 6 Canteen 400|||40 400||||53 7 Cartage 240||24 240|||32 8 Wages 240||24 240|||32 9 Labor 120||12 120||16 Opening and 10 Closing Camp 100||10 100||13 11 Stamps 100||10 100||13 12 Water Upkeep 100||10 100||13 13 Boats 50|6 50|8 14 Printing 60|6 60|8 15 Telephone 60|6 60|8 16 Storage 20|2 20|3 17 All Other 300|||30 300|||39 --------------------------------------------------------------------- Grand Total $10,000 $1,000 $7,600 $1,000 [A] Six persons only. Director not included, paid yearly 8 volunteers [Illustration: G. Camp Budget] 5. Salaries. These will vary according to the size and character of the camp and especially according to the amount of volunteer service obtainable. In all cases they are calculated in addition to living and traveling expenses. As camps become more numerous the demand for professionally trained counsellors will ultimately exclude the possibility of depending entirely on volunteer service. This item may therefore be expected to increase. 6. Canteen. All the expenses for this, including service and accounting, should be more than covered by receipts. 7. Cartage. This will vary according to the type of road and distances involved. 8. Wages. A camp of any size demands certain permanent forms of service which cannot be given by the campers. This is not a good point at which to economize. 9. Casual Labor. This must be provided for especially at the opening and closing of camp. 10. Opening and Closing. This item covers certain forms of skilled labor; also transportation and clerical charges. 11. Stamps. Receipts should cover cost less office supply. 12. Motor Upkeep. An automobile will be found to more than pay for itself, and will undoubtedly soon become an obvious prime necessity. 13. Boats. Boats may more profitably be rented than bought as the expense of storage and repairs is easier borne by a large company. 14. Printing. It pays to have all camp forms and circulars well printed. [Illustration: RACE BETWEEN WASHER AND DRYER] 15. Telephone. This is a necessity and can be made to pay for itself. 16. Storage. Careful storage saves equipment. Do not forget insurance. 17. All Other. Incidentals may be expected to take up three or four per cent of available funds. The actual cost of a large camp near New York is computed in Cut G, all figures being given in round numbers and based on three years' successful running. Absolute numbers mean little when considering conditions throughout the country, particularly in this age of rapidly shifting and climbing prices. Therefore, the figures are also expressed in terms of the distribution of one thousand dollars, during the first and also the following years. It will be noted that food is always the most expensive item. It is also the common basis for comparison. Equipment which is second in cost the first year, drops to fifth place in the following years. With reasonable care equipment should last seven years, upkeep and renewal taking one-seventh each year. With exceptional care the life of equipment may of course be extended and one of the important things to be learned at camp is thrift and consideration for the common property. Girl Scout camps should aim at becoming self-supporting or even sources of revenue as soon as possible. It is good policy to charge a rate of board that will cover _all_ costs, and then to raise money by Scout rallies and entertainments to provide for individuals unable to meet the full rate. Councils might well offer "scholarships" in the form of two weeks' camping expenses. Money for original equipment should be borrowed and paid back at interest in yearly sums. In the camp whose budget is shown a board rate of $6.00 would more than cover expenses after the first year as with 134 Scouts paying for ten weeks it would yield an income of $8,040. At this rate the initial expense could only be paid off in about five years. A board rate of $7.00 would not only cover current expenses, but would serve to pay off original cost of equipment in two years' time. Thus, 134 Scouts paying $7.00 a week for 10 weeks would make an income of $9,380 a season. This would leave a deficit the first year of $620. The second year with the current expenses $7,600 plus the deficit of $620 the total would be $8,220. The income of $9,380 would therefore give a balance of $1,160 at the end of the second year. This does not include any of the income to be legitimately expected from the canteen, telephone charges, or special rates charged to guests, or from funds raised by entertainments. Taking these things into consideration the board rate might be considerably reduced. The balance that should accrue at the end of the second year might be used for reducing rates or extending time to individuals, or for paying instructors for extra service, or perhaps best of all to start new camps. [Illustration: THE SUNDAY DINNER. A serious and weighty undertaking. Sixty pounds of beef ready for the pot.] VII EQUIPMENT GENERAL In organizing a permanent camp the following things must be supplied: beds, bed coverings, pillows, pillow cases, wash basins, lanterns, trash boxes, tables, benches, scales, dishes for mess hall and kitchen, table flatware, kitchen utensils, stove, household implements, camp implements, game equipment, incinerator, boats, a flag, and ropes for halyards. Beds A bed of some description is necessary to every camper. It is foolish not to have it dry, warm and comfortable. The most durable and economical are the canvas and wood cots which can be folded and packed into a small space during the winter. One is the government standard folding army cot, the other the telescope cot. Still another is the camp made cot fashioned of posts and strips of wood, with rope interlaced between the strips, and a sack filled with clean dry hay for a mattress. Spring cots and mattresses can be used but require a great deal of storage space during the winter and for many other reasons are not practical. An old sheet, a piece of heavy cotton cloth or bed ticking made into a bag and filled with hay can be used as a mattress on top of a canvas cot and makes a very warm comfortable bed, especially for cold nights. Blankets Woolen blankets are the only covering to be considered for camp use, as they absorb less moisture than any other material, and even if damp are warm. They should be long enough to cover the cot and turn under at the bottom, and wide enough when doubled to fall over the edge of the cot for a few inches. Those measuring 66 x 84 inches, weighing from 4 to 5 pounds, and being 70 to 90 per cent wool, are recommended. If only one blanket for each cot is provided in the general equipment each child should bring to camp either a sleeping bag, one heavy and one lightweight blanket, or one blanket and a heavy bath robe. [Illustration: CLEANING SQUAD] Great care should be taken that the blankets are kept clean. This can be done if the rule permitting no eatables, water or ink in the tents is adhered to. When making the camp bed whatever the method, care should be taken that blankets do not touch the floor. One way is to fold the camp blanket lengthwise, lay it on top of the cot, the top nine inches from the head of the cot. Open the blanket and lay into it the camper's folded blanket, the top of which comes to the head of the cot. Draw the camp blanket over it, fold both under at the foot, and turn in the open side half of the length of the cot. If a pillow is used place it between the folds of the inner blanket. A bed made in this way will keep the camp blanket clean and it will be in proper condition either to use another summer or to use the same summer by another child. Another way is to fold the camp blanket lengthwise and place it on the cot and fold the camper's blanket lengthwise placing the two openings in opposite directions, one blanket inside of the other. Still another way is to fold the blanket lengthwise in thirds and lay it on the cot, turn it under at the foot and get into it as into a sleeping bag. Quilts are not advised for camp use. All blankets should be shaken every day and thoroughly shaken and sunned at least two or three times a week. For this purpose it is recommended that long bars be erected in a sunny spot on the camp grounds where blankets can be thrown over them during a part of the day. If the camp is divided into sections a few blankets could be done at one time, and done regularly. The tent posts can be used if care is taken that the ropes are not loosened. Low brush or an available fence will also serve the purpose. It is well to remember that it is more essential to have plenty of clothing under the body than over it if one would sleep comfortably. A wrapper worn over the night gown will keep the body warmer on a cold night than an extra blanket on top. The camp blankets should never be used next to the body. The personal blanket should be used for that purpose. During the day the camp blanket can be folded lengthwise once, crosswise once, laid on to the foot of the cot, the fold toward the bottom, the personal blankets, night clothes, bath wrapper and pillow neatly folded, laid on the blanket and the border ends drawn over and tucked under, thus making a neat roll. The foot of the cot is toward the center of the tent. [Illustration: THE WISE VIRGINS. They clean and fill their lamps outdoors.] Pillows The best pillows for camp use are those filled with kapok which is impervious to germs, light, and possesses a cork-like quality which in case of necessity can be utilized by making a life preserver of the pillow. Basins Every child should be provided with a small agate or enamel hand basin in which she can keep her toilet articles when not in use. The basin can be kept under the head of the cot and is one of the things to be thoroughly inspected each day. Dishes for Mess Hall Each camper should have a dinner plate, a bowl, a cup and saucer of either white enamel ware, which is the best, crockery, which is not recommended, aluminum, or if these are too expensive, tin. There should be serving dishes such as one platter and three serving bowls for each table, extra plates for bread, sugar bowl, butter dishes, large and small pitchers, salt cellars; and do not forget the vase for flowers. The table flat ware should consist of a fork, knife, a large and small spoon for each child, knives for butter, serving spoons and extra serving forks. Nickel, re-tinned, or tin-plated steel gives excellent service. Dishes for Kitchen In so far as is possible use no tin in the kitchen. Use agate, aluminum, porcelain or iron. When necessary to have very large boilers buy those made of re-tinned steel with copper bottoms. For a camp of fifty or more the following equipment is necessary: two large boilers, two feet high and from twelve to fourteen inches in diameter, with handles and with closely fitted covers; one large open boiler with a bail; three agate boilers with bails, holding from twelve to fifteen quarts; two smaller boilers and one sauce pan holding three quarts; four, three quart pails with covers; one large and one small tea kettle; one colander, two sieves (one with a handle and one large one without a handle); three or four iron pans, the largest size that will fit into the oven; one quart measure, one pint measure, one measuring cup; three large mixing bowls, four milk pans, four milk bowls, and dishes in which left-overs can be kept; one bread board, rolling pin, toaster, two iron pot rests, two frying pans, a tea pot, a long-handled dipper, a long-handled skimmer, six spoons with handles of different lengths, a bread knife, a meat knife, a cleaver, a dozen vegetable knives, two can openers, one large serving tray for each table, three dish pans, a bread cutter, a flour sieve, a sugar scoop, an apple corer, scales, a meat grinder, and an ice cream freezer. [Illustration: THE SWIMMING CRIB] Camp Implements General camp implements are needed as follows: two flat irons, brooms for the mess hall and kitchen, and small brooms for tent use, dust pan and brush, stove brush, four galvanized pails, a garbage pail not too large, a hammer, hatchet, axe, a wheel barrow, saw, fork, spade, shovel, rakes, trowel, screw driver, a pair of pliers and nails and screws. Kitchen Furnishings The kitchen will have to have a good stove large enough to hold two or three large boilers at one time. If there is plumbing and a hot water boiler, either the stove can be furnished with a hot water back, which is not desirable, for the fire need not be kept all day when wood is used, but hot water is needed at all times, or a Standard Oil kerosene heater can be installed. Without plumbing, a stove with a hot water tank is desirable. If this is impossible a large boiler must be kept filled with water on the top of the stove. An army range, set on a concrete base, gives the greatest satisfaction in a large camp. The ovens are large, an important point, and the top of the stove large enough to care for all necessary pots and kettles. When buying a stove for camp use make sure that it is made for the kind of fuel which will be used in it. The kitchen sink should be conveniently placed and large enough to hold a large dish pan. Again if there is no plumbing a long table for dish pans, draining pans, etc., should be provided. Other tables, benches, shelves and a wood box are necessary. Tables and benches are necessary in every camp. The more simple they are the better. Tables made of pine boards, and tops covered with white oil cloth are very serviceable, or better, tables with planed tops can be used. Table tops and rests are feasible also. Benches can be made in various ways but should be firm and of the right height. Chairs are not really a camp necessity and on the whole could well be left out of the list of camp furniture. Lanterns Every camp, large or small, needs lanterns. Lamps are not advised as a general rule. There should be enough to have sufficient light in the mess hall, in the kitchen, at least one in the wash house, one at each latrine, and for stormy and very dark nights one for every two tents, or group of tents. The tent lanterns can be hung on the tent posts outside of the tents which method will prevent mosquitoes from being attracted inside. Latrine lights should burn all night and it is advisable to leave one burning by the mess hall in case of emergency. Never allow children to bring candles into camp. Flash lights are a convenience and harmless. [Illustration: LAND DRILL] A lantern which is not clean and shining and ready for use is a disgrace to any camp. Every morning chimneys should be washed and wiped, lanterns filled, wiped clean, wicks wiped off with a piece of newspaper and turned down. They do not need to be trimmed every day. Have a place for the lanterns to hang or stand during the day. The lamp cloths should be washed, dried in the sun and hung where they will not be caught up and used for other purposes. Double Boiler A very good double boiler can be made by using a large outer boiler in the bottom of which is placed a pot rest and a small amount of water. Stand on the rest either one kettle well covered, or if necessary, two kettles, one on top of the other, both tightly covered and the outer boiler tightly covered. This arrangement forms a kind of fire-less cooker which is exceedingly satisfactory, especially for cooking cereals. Trash Boxes Each tent or group of tents should have a conveniently placed trash box. These can be made of wooden frames covered with screening, can be small half-barrels or kegs, painted, or small portable incinerators. These boxes should be emptied every twenty-four hours and the contents burned. Weighing Scales Another piece of furniture is a pair of personal scales, for the weight of each child entering and leaving camp is of interest and value. Do not use form with springs. Games The game equipment must not be forgotten. Basket balls, volley balls, water polo balls, baseballs and bats, quoits, bows and arrows, and tennis sets are all valuable. Linen If in the general equipment pillows are provided it is well to have a few pillow cases other than those which the child brings to camp. There should be sheets and pillow cases for use in the bed making test. Three sets of dish towels and a set of dish cloths, holders, stove cloths and kitchen hand towels. Cheese cloth is of great value in camp in the kitchen and out of it. [Illustration: THE DIVING LESSON] Newspapers Do not throw away any clean whole newspapers; they are of too great value. Wet shoes stuffed with pieces of newspaper and stood not too near a fire, will dry in good shape and be soft. The newspapers help to absorb the moisture out of the leather and keep the shoes in shape. Newspapers can be used to sit upon if benches or ground are damp. Nothing is better for cleaning the top of a stove after each meal, than a newspaper crunched into a wad. Folded pieces of newspaper make an excellent holder for lifting pots and kettles. Several thicknesses placed on the end of the kitchen table on which to set pots and cans, will keep the table clean. Hot water pipes or a boiler can be covered with several thicknesses of newspapers held in place by twine, thereby conserving heat. Cover the ice cream freezer with newspapers after the dasher is removed and while the cream is getting stiff. They help to keep in the cold. Newspapers laid on a cot under the blankets help very materially to keep one warm on a cold night. After sweeping a floor put the dust and dirt from a dust pan in a newspaper, roll it carefully and burn in the incinerator. The wind cannot then blow the dirt about. Flowers When picking flowers do not pull the plants up by the root. Do not pick a blossom with too many buds on the stem. Do not pick what you are not going to use either as a decoration or to press for nature study work. Do not pick short stems, and do not crowd too many flowers into one vase. Be sure that the vase is clean and the water fresh. All dead flowers and leaves should be burned and not thrown out to disfigure the looks of the camp grounds. [Illustration: THE TRUE INWARDNESS OF ROWING] If you do not know poison ivy when you see it get someone to point it out to you and then keep away from it. It is more apt to poison when the leaves are wet. PERSONAL EQUIPMENT _Clothes_: Scout uniform and Scout hat Bloomers: dark wool or khaki Middy blouses, at least 3; plain, strong, white Coat Rubber coat or poncho Sweater Shoes (stout, low heels, round toes; two pairs if possible) Rubbers Underwear: Plain and strong. The one-piece athletic garment made for women and girls is preferable to separate chemise or drawers. Woven shirt or union suit of cotton or light wool is desirable. No petticoats. Stockings: at least four pairs, heavy ribbed cotton or wool preferred. No silk. Nightgown or pajamas, three, heavy cotton or canton flannel. Bath wrapper and slippers Bathing suit and cap _Bedding_: Plain woolen blankets, light-weight, for use next body Pillow cases, (three) _Toilet Accessories_: Bath and face towels, two each Face cloths, two Comb and brush Tooth brush in holder Soap and tooth paste Soap box Small cup Scissors Nail file or cleaner Sanitary napkins and belt _Desirable General Accessories_: Musical Instruments Flashlight Note book or pad and pencils Sewing kit THE CANTEEN There have been objections made to the camp canteen or store, but there seem to be no very good reasons against it. By buying large quantities and at wholesale and selling at the market price in small quantities there can be a perfectly legitimate profit on a camp canteen. This helps to pay camp expenses. It is also possible to make an arrangement with local stores to supply merchandise, fruit and candy to be sold at the store price, and receive from the store a ten per cent discount which is clear profit to the camp. A greater profit, however, can be obtained if the camp purchases these things for itself from wholesale dealers. The price of board in the average Scout camp is so low that it is impossible to supply campers with many of the things which they want and which they may have. Fresh fruit in some localities is very expensive and quite beyond the possibility of serving. But most parents make no objection to their children purchasing the fruit, one or two pieces at a time, at the canteen counter. The same is true of simple candy such as sweet chocolate, Hershey Bars, Neccos, etc. One piece a day is not only perfectly harmless; it is, in fact, beneficial. Other things that can be sold in the canteen are stationery, stamps, plain postal cards, picture postal cards, hair pins, pins, shoe laces, needles and thread, kodak films, bathing caps, soap, and pencils. The best time for having the canteen open is determined by the rule that Scouts do not eat between meals. For this reason it is better to sell fruit and candy either directly after dinner or directly after supper. For many reasons it is much more convenient and fully as well for the child to have the canteen open after supper, especially when that meal is served at half-past five. The question as to whether Scouts should be allowed to receive packages of food from home is one which every camp Director has to decide. Probably nothing causes more unhappiness than the fact that some girls receive no packages while others have many. The most serious phase is that boxes often contain food which is not best for the girl. Then, too, packages have been sent by parcel post so badly wrapped and packed that when received at the local post office the authorities have complained to the camp Director. The condition of fruit or other food was such as to be a menace. [Illustration: MAKING CAMP ON AN OVERNIGHT HIKE. Tents and other equipment come by trek cart.] The problem of caring for the boxes of food which are sent to campers is sometimes a serious question. If labelled and put into the storeroom they take up valuable space; also much time is spent taking them out at canteen hour and in putting them away. If a child is allowed to keep food of any kind in her tent, it is quite impossible to have the blankets, cots, or pillows in absolutely perfect condition. All things considered, it seems best not to allow food including fruit or candy to be sent or brought into camp. EQUIPMENT FOR SWIMMING AND BOATING The average child who enters camp does not know how to swim and knows less about boating. What is more, it is probably the only place for many to learn to do these things. Taking a dip for the sake of having a good time, splashing in the water, and so forth, is one thing, but to really learn to swim, to dive, to throw a life line, to rescue, to resuscitate, is quite a different matter. These things must be learned, for as a matter of fact, human beings do none of them naturally. When possible a crib for beginners is a very desirable thing to have. (p. 69.) Unless there is a safe beach or shallow water and a good bottom there is more or less danger attending the teaching of swimming to a group of children even though the group be small. With the crib, for use especially in deep lakes and ponds, this danger is practically overcome, and in consequence much anxiety on the part of those in charge of the camp eliminated. The child seems to fear less, therefore learns to swim sooner. A crib 20 x 85 feet is large enough for a group of twenty children (Cut H.) It is built partially on land by the water's edge, is made of logs and planks and pulled into the water over logs used as rollers. A floor is made of 6 inch planks placed half an inch apart and nailed on to a rectangular frame work of logs with lengthwise supports under the planks. Uprights of logs are placed at intervals along the sides and ends and at the corners. Two and a half feet from either end a second row of uprights is placed. The sides and inner ends are built up to a height of 5 feet, the outer ends to 3 feet. The crib is pulled into the water and towed to its position by a pier or wharf. It is sunk with stones between the double ends until the floor is 3-1/2 feet below the surface of the water at the pier end, and 4 feet below the surface at the other end. It is held in position by being fastened to piles placed at intervals around the edge. Steps lead down into the crib either from the end of a pier, or from a wharf. As soon as a child can swim three times around the crib without touching her foot to the bottom of the crib or her hands to the sides, and can demonstrate three strokes, she should be allowed to go into deep water, but should be carefully watched for a while. [Illustration: "EATS"] Land drill preceding the swimming lesson is very helpful. An expert person should be made responsible for not more than twenty girls at one time unless the girls are competent swimmers, and no one should be allowed to interfere with the rules and regulations laid down by the person in charge. Absolute obedience to all signals, rules and regulations must be observed. An assistant counsellor should always be in attendance at swimming lessons. [Illustration: H. Swimming Crib as it would appear out of water. The crib is 35' by 20', outside dimensions, with end pockets for stones, 2-1/2' each, leaving a swimming space of 30' by 20'. The idea for this was planned and executed by the Engineers of the Park Commission of the N.Y. and N.J. Interstate Park, for use in the camps in the Palisades Park.] Deep water swimmers should be able to pass the following requirements: demonstrate three different strokes, breast, overarm and back stroke. Swim under water. Demonstrate resuscitation. Throw a life-line twenty-five feet for accuracy. Demonstrate diving, shallow, deep and fancy diving. Rescue a drowning person twenty-five feet away from a raft. Swim 50 yards with clothes on. It is always advisable during a swimming period to have a boat well manned near at hand. Bathing in fresh water, especially in spring-fed lakes is not as exhilarating as salt water bathing, and twenty minutes is considered the longest time a girl should stay in fresh water. Great care should be taken that no child is allowed to get chilled. At the first sign of pinchedness, shivering, or blue lips the child should be called out of the water, and instructed to rub herself briskly and dress at once. [Illustration: THE MORNING AFTER] Bathers should always be counted immediately before going into the water, and immediately after being called out. It is well to have assembly and roll call for this. Suits A word as to bathing suits may not be amiss. Care should be taken that the shoulder straps are tight enough and the under arm seam sewed up high enough to keep the top part of the suit in place. It is recommended that camps adopt a uniform style of bathing suit and that all classified groups wear bathing caps of the same color, as for instance, first class swimmers wear white caps, second class blue caps, third class green caps, and fourth class, red caps. The Float Probably there is more fun experienced by the Scouts who are privileged to use a raft or float, than by all the other campers put together. To get out of the crib group and go for the first time to the float is a thrilling experience and one that is much discussed and enjoyed. Water sports without a float cannot be imagined, neither can a camp really be called a Girl Scout camp unless it possesses this important piece of floating property, which may be large or small, but must be properly built to be safe. For a camp of 150 or more, a float 20 x 40 feet is none too large. It should be equipped with spring board, diving tower and life lines, and moored in deep water, not too long a swim from shore. Bath houses are not always considered necessary to campers but the use of them does much toward keeping tents and tent equipment in good condition. Wet floors, cots, blankets and so forth are always a detriment and should not be allowed. If bath houses are impossible, erect a large tent with a clothes line running from pole to pole and low benches under it to serve as racks for clothing. Have pails at hand for holding rinsing water. This kind of bath house is easily arranged. Where possible it is an excellent idea for girls to be able to take a quick dip before dressing for breakfast, but in a large camp this is not always possible, and other arrangements have to be made for the morning ablutions, as have been suggested in another part of this book. Boats Only first class swimmers should be allowed the use when alone, of boats of any kind. The flat bottomed boats are the safest and it is almost impossible to tip them over. They are, however, much heavier and harder to manage than the round bottomed boats. Care should be taken that not too many girls go in one boat at one time and that whoever is put in charge of the group must be obeyed. Girls should be taught to row, how to enter a boat and leave it, how to tie it, how to seat passengers so that the boat will be well balanced, how to row alone, and how to keep stroke with another. Camp Supplies A list of firms handling approved equipment for camps will be furnished upon request to National Headquarters Girl Scouts, Inc. [Illustration: SETTING OUT FOR THE WATER HIKE] WATER FRONT PROTECTION FOR SUMMER CAMPS _By_ Captain Fred. C. Mills, Red Cross Life Saving Corps, Atlantic Division. Every camp that is situated on water or has a near-by bathing place, should organize its water front protection system before the camp opens. Choice of Bathing Place The swimming place should be so chosen as to combine, if possible, deep water swimming for the experienced swimmers and a shallow bathing place for beginners. The non-swimmers' pool should never be over four and one-half feet deep at its deepest point. Equipment _For Beginners._ The non-swimmers' pool should be enclosed on three sides by life lines, (1" to 1-1/2" manila rope, depending on weather conditions), buoyed up every fifteen feet by cork floats or balsa wood buoys, painted white and made fast at the corners to piles driven into the sand, or to buoys moored with rocks or cement moorings. No beginners should be allowed to go beyond these lines. _For Swimmers._ The area to be used by Swimmers should then be plainly marked off with white floats moored to the bottom, with a flag placed at top. No swimmer, no matter how expert, should be allowed to go beyond these floats, unless permission is obtained from the Master of Aquatics. Great care should be taken that all diving platforms and spring boards are safely situated and that the water surrounding these diving arrangements is clear of all rocks, stumpage, etc., to the depth of at least 10 feet. Ladders should be placed at the float to allow swimmers to climb from the water easily. [Illustration: LAYING THE FIRE] _Tower._ A small tower, eight to twelve feet high, should be erected on the shore so as to overlook the bathing place. A warning signal, such as a bell or gong, should be placed in the tower. _Life Boats._ Two or more boats, depending on the size of the camp, should be set aside for life-saving patrol. These should be equipped with life lines looped around the outside of the gunwhale, ring rowlocks, and an air tank placed under the bow and stern seats. A hole should be cut in the top of the stern board for sculling. Life boats should be chosen that are light and easy to handle, and care should be used in picking boats that are sea-worthy and have good beam. One life boat should always be at the dock, ready for instant use, while the other boat or boats are on patrol. Under no circumstances should these boats be used for anything but life-saving duty. _Ring Buoys._ Ring buoys should be placed on every dock. These should not be over nineteen inches in diameter, and should be equipped with sixty feet of 1/4" line with a float or "lemon" on end. Ring buoys are valueless unless ready at all times for use, so should be mounted on a rack the shape of a cross, painted red, having a peg, 5" long, on the end of each arm, for the rope to be loosely coiled around. The top loop of the buoy hangs on the top peg. By this arrangement, the buoy is always ready for use. Water glasses, first aid equipment, grappling irons, and extra boat equipment, such as oars, rowlocks, and boat hooks, should be kept on hand ready for instant use. _Row Boats and Canoes._ All row boats should be placed in first class condition and tested out to find their safety capacity. The way to determine this is to fill the boat full of water and find out how many it will support in the water holding on to sides; this then is the safe number to carry in the boat when free from water. If boats are equipped with a small air-tight compartment of metal in bow and stern, it will increase their buoyancy to a great extent. Every boat should be plainly marked: THE CAPACITY OF THIS BOAT IS..., with white paint on both sides. The Life Saving Corps _Choosing the Crew._ Every camp should build up around its Master of Aquatics a Life Saving Corps from among the campers. Choosing the personnel of the Corps is a very important matter. The applicants should understand that it is an honor to be a member of this unit. [Illustration: THE GOODNIGHT STORY] It will be found that if the members of the Corps are allowed to have separate sleeping quarters, near the water, over which they fly the Red Cross Life Saving Corps flag, mess together and be relieved of K. P. duty, that they will develop an esprit de corps which will make for efficiency in their work and be of great value to the general morale of the camp. Everyone trying for membership should first have a medical examination to prove that he is physically able to stand the very difficult work which he may have to perform at any time. The group of applicants should then be tested out as to their swimming ability, especially being required to swim on back without hands, and on side with one arm only. _Training._ After your applicants have been culled out, the ones that you decide to use should be given a thorough course of training, first being obliged to pass the Red Cross life saving test. They must be instructed in boat handling and the methods of taking another person into the boat, in the proper method of throwing the life buoy, using a 60-foot line and a 19-inch buoy. They should be capable of tying knots needed in their work, such as a square knot, clove hitch, two half hitches, bowline, short splice and eye splice. Much emphasis should be placed on instruction in resuscitation by the Schaefer method, and no attempt should be made to instruct them in the use of any mechanical respiratory devices as they are practically useless. During the camp season, if possible, members should have thorough instruction in first aid, especially as it applies to water accidents, the most common of which are abrasions, sun burn, seasickness, broken arms from backfire of gasoline engines, sickness from gasoline fumes of motor boat engines, and submersion. _Duties of Crew._ The Life Saving Corps should be familiar with the water at all points and should buoy any especially dangerous spots, such as submerged tree stumps or very deep holes. This can be done with a line, anchor, and float painted red. The Life Saving Corps should be in charge of Mates under the command of the Master of Aquatics who is the Captain. A log of each day's work should be kept, recording such events as concern the Corps, such as weather report, officer in charge of day's watch, number of swimmers, name of day's swimming instructor, number taught to swim, etc. Watches should be so arranged that members of crew are not on duty more than two days out of three. [Illustration: "GOOD MORROW, LORD SUN!"] During the bathing periods, which should be at least two hours after meals, the Corps members will be in charge of the protection and discipline of bathers, the instruction of swimming, and supervision of diving. The following is suggested as a good distribution. Two in each life boat, oarsman and coxswain, one person on the dock, two lookouts and messenger in the tower, one at diving board and one or two instructing swimming (change instructors every third day). _The Swimming Test._ After every camper has had a medical examination he should have a test in swimming and be graded in one of three classes: Non-Swimmer, red knot on right shoulder; Beginner--the ones that will still bear watching--white knot on right shoulder; Swimmer, American Red Cross Junior Life Saving Corps emblem. Check your list up every once in a while to see that everybody is in the right class. Hold frequent tests to re-classify two lower grades. The graded Red Cross tests are recommended and arrangements can be made for Red Cross awards. Supervision of Boating A Non-Swimmer should never be allowed to take out a boat unless accompanied by a swimmer. The Beginners should be limited in the distance they can go and only the Swimmers should be allowed to go where they please. At least two-thirds of every boat load should be able to swim and take care of those who cannot swim. Under no circumstances allow more than one boat to be towed behind a motor or sail boat, and then only if boat being towed is in hands of an expert coxswain. No boating should be allowed during bathing periods. Detail one of the crew to give instructions in boat handling if necessary. Have all boats in by "Mess gear" unless special permission is given. No boating after dark without special permission. Every camper should know how to tie up a boat, if he wishes to use them. See that he does it. A simple set of rules may be drawn up and posted in prominent places so that every camper will know exactly what the bathing regulations are. The following are a few suggestions. No one is allowed to swim for at least two hours after meals. No swimming allowed in the heat of the day. No one is allowed to swim if he has any stomach disorder. A limit set on number allowed in boats. No boats loaded with campers allowed to be towed behind motor boats. Absolutely no swimming to be permitted unless life boat is on hand for protection of bathers. Of course these rules may be modified to suit each camp's local problems, but if these suggestions are adhered to in the main, it will be almost impossible for any accidents to happen. One accidental drowning case may ruin the reputation of a camp. Build up the confidence of your campers and their families by making your safety system as near foolproof as possible. _Send every camper home a swimmer; and, if possible, able to swim for two._ _For information about life saving, write American Red Cross Life Saving Corps, 44 East 23rd St., New York City._ [Illustration: MONARCHS OF ALL THEY SURVEY] VIII. THE CAMP PROGRAM The program is one of the most important factors in the well-organized camp and must be given much thought. It is the thing which gives continuity to the summer's work and holds the entire group together. Without it there would be disorder and confusion. While including as many activities as possible without causing any feeling of hurry, rush or forcing, it must be planned so that repetition will not prove monotonous. It should provide for periods of work and play, rest and leisure; it must afford ample opportunity for self-expression and development. Parts of the program must necessarily be obligatory for all, others optional, still others optional as to time only. The fact that the group is composed of Scouts and is living out of doors should bring to the fore, subjects for study which are particularly in keeping with the Scout program, such as nature lore, simple astronomy, woodcraft, campcraft, carpentry, gardening, hiking, map-making, swimming and boating; Scout grade test requirements, and some of the Merit Badge work. Specific directions for teaching these subjects are not given here, as they are covered in the Handbook, "Scouting for Girls," and other publications. Periods for play may include games, group singing, rowing, hikes, entertainments, and so forth. Leisure moments are for the individual. She should be allowed to follow her own inclination so long as she does not infringe upon the rights of others or break the necessary camp rules which protect the safety and health of the group. Hours of rest which all observe at stated periods are, of course, most essential. While a daily program is absolutely necessary as a basis of work, it should occasionally be put one side to allow the entire group to take advantage of particularly propitious weather conditions for walking and hiking, or for an entertainment or field day. The daily program in every Girl Scout camp should always include the formal ceremony of raising and lowering the flag, inspection, a period of rest directly after dinner, a period for the discussion of the Scout Promise and Laws, and a short period for Setting-up Exercises, preferably the first thing in the morning. On Sundays a simple Scout service should be held. [Illustration: A Sun Clock never runs down. Stake five feet high driven firmly in ground in open space. Peg is stuck in at end of shadow every hour during the day. From article in "Scouting", Dec. 15, 1917] PROGRAM FOR HOUSEKEEPING SQUAD 3:30 P.M. Report for duty. Change of Squad Work explained Instructions given Off duty 5:00 P.M. Report for duty Prepare for and serve supper Clear table, wash dishes, etc. Light and place lanterns Off duty 7:00 A.M. Report for duty Bring in lanterns Prepare tables, serve breakfast Clear tables, wash dishes Set tables Clean: Mess hall, wash house, latrines, camp grounds, lanterns, fold napkins, burn trash, fill vases with fresh flowers Prepare vegetables Off duty 12:00 M. Report for duty Prepare for and serve dinner Clear tables, wash dishes Wash dish towels 3:30 P.M. Report for change of squad Relieved of duty Swimming and re-enter general program Housekeeping Squad A feature of the day's routine is the coming on duty of the housekeeping squad which for a period of twenty-four hours keeps the camp clean, orderly and safe, and performs most if not all of the necessary household duties which must be done in every home or camp. The squad should be under the leadership of a counsellor who is particularly fitted to direct and instruct the squad and be responsible for the work it does. Going on duty in the middle of the afternoon gives the members an opportunity to have a swim earlier in the day, and after going off duty the next day, which is a privilege not to be despised. The work which this squad does is for the benefit of the entire group and raises or lowers the camp standard each day. The general program should be posted on the bulletin board and explained to each new group that enters camp. It should be given in detail as to hours, activities and requirements. Whether the program is planned for the group divided into two or three units or for the group as one unit, depends upon the size of the camp. No counsellor can do justice to her work if she has too large a group, and on the other hand, the group if too large will lose interest in the subject. The accompanying program has been tried and may be of value as a suggestion. [Illustration: FIREPLACE IN THE HOUSE THE SCOUTS BUILT] DAILY PROGRAM FOR A GIRL SCOUT CAMP -----+----+----------------+-----------------+--------------------- Bugle| M. | Group I | Group II | Group III -----+----+----------------+-----------------+--------------------- 6.30 | 10 | REVIELLE -----+----+-------------------------------------------------------- 6.40 | 10 | SETTING-UP EXERCISES -----+----+-------------------------------------------------------- 7.15 | 15 | ASSEMBLY AND MORNING COLORS -----+----+-------------------------------------------------------- 7.30 | 30 | BREAKFAST AND ANNOUNCEMENTS -----+----+-------------------------------------------------------- 8.30 | 30 | INSPECTION -----+----+----------------+-----------------+--------------------- 9.00 | 30 | Nature Lore | 2d Class Work | Games -----+----+----------------+-----------------+--------------------- 9.30 | 45 | Drilling, Games| Swimming | First Aid, Bed | | | | Making -----+----+----------------+-----------------+--------------------- 10.15| 45 | Basketry |Health, First Aid| Swimming -----+----+----------------+-----------------+--------------------- 11.00|30 |Scout Laws | Basketry | Health -----+----+----------------+-----------------+--------------------- 11.30| 30 | Health, Adv. | | | | First Aid | Scout Laws | Scout Laws -----+----+----------------+-----------------+--------------------- 12.00| 30 | FREE TIME -----+----+-------------------------------------------------------- 12.30| 60 | DINNER -----+----+-------------------------------------------------------- 1.30 | 60 | REST HOUR -----+----+-------------------------------------------------------- 2.30 | 45 | MAIL DISTRIBUTED, AND FREE TIME -----+----+----------------+-----------------+--------------------- 3.15 | 30 | 1st Class Work | Nature Lore | Knots and Signalling -----+----+----------------+-----------------+--------------------- 3.45 | 45 | Swimming | Games, Drilling | Nature Lore -----+----+----------------+-----------------+--------------------- 4.30 | 60 | FREE TIME -----+----+-------------------------------------------------------- 5.30 | 30 | ASSEMBLY, RETREAT, SUPPER -----+----+-------------------------------------------------------- 6.00 | | CANTEEN, BOATING, SHORT WALKS, GAMES, DANCING, ETC. -----+----+-------------------------------------------------------- 7.30 | | CAMP FIRE, SINGING, STUNTS, ETC., FOR THE WHOLE CAMP -----+----+-------------------------------------------------------- 8.20 | | FIRST CALL -----+----+-------------------------------------------------------- 8.45 | | TAPS -----+----+-------------------------------------------------------- IX. GENERAL CAMP ACTIVITIES Outline 1. SPORTS a. _Water sports_ 1. Swimming (a) Classification (1) Groups or classes (b) Life saving 2. Boating (a) Rowing (b) Canoeing (1) Classification b. _Games_ 1. Major games 2. Minor games c. _Dancing_ 1. Types (a) Aesthetic or classic (b) Folk dancing (c) Social dancing d. _Horsemanship_ 1. Requirements 2. CRAFTS AND OCCUPATIONS a. _Crafts_ 1. Handcrafts (a) Kinds 2. Woodcraft (a) Nature Study 1. Ferns, Flowers, Trees, Birds, Stars, Maps 3. Campcraft (a) Making and breaking camp (b) Camp fires (c) Cooking (d) Trail making 3. ENTERTAINMENTS and diversions outside of the regular schedule a. Types 1. Dramatic 2. Miscellaneous 3. Celebrations and pageants 4. Inter-Camp frolics 4. SINGING a. Camp songs 5. ACHIEVEMENTS a. _Recording of achievements_ 1. Books 2. Chart system b. _Recognition of achievements_ 1. Points and honors 2. Girl Scout Merit Badges 1. SPORTS Every girl who goes to a camp in the summer is interested in some form of sport. But perhaps swimming and boating head the list for popularity. There are many interesting ways in which to run your swimming program so that it is taught systematically and leads to real progress and efficiency. One method that has been tried successfully in a very large camp, but which would apply equally well in any camp, is the arrangement of the entire camp into groups designated as "Swimming Classes" and indicated by a special color bathing cap for each group or class so that they may be easily distinguished in the water. [Illustration: THE TOP OF THE MORNING] _Class Number 4, Red Cap._--All who have not passed the canoe test which is explained under the heading "Class Number 3." _Class Number 3, Green Cap._--Pass the canoe test which consists of swimming, floating or otherwise staying above depth for fifteen minutes, and swimming in from an overturned canoe 20 yards from shore. _Class Number 2, Blue Cap._ _Strokes_: Breast stroke--25 yards Side Stroke--25 yards Back stroke--25 yards Single overhand--25 yards Double overhand--25 yards _Dives_: Standing or running dive from spring board (3 perfect out of 5). Dive from a low tower 4 feet high. (3 perfect out of 5). _Class Number 1, White Cap_. _Strokes_: Crawl Trudgeon _Dives_: From spring board, running plain From spring board, running jack knife From spring board, running angel From spring board, standing side From spring board, standing back From float standing from high tower (10) and 3 optional dives from the following: Hand stand (spring board, high or low tower). Back somersault, spring board Front somersault, spring board Sailor running, spring board Back dive, high tower Jack knife, high tower Double dive, high tower Another method is to record the swimming achievements on a chart under the following headings: Form swimming, ornamental swimming, speed swimming, canoe tests, life saving and dives. Did you ever work to become a member of the Women's Life Saving Corps of the American Red Cross? The purpose of this organization is to train women in all coast cities, and cities bordering on lakes and rivers, to be able to meet emergencies in the water and save lives. There are six tests which have to be passed before a girl is considered worthy of a W. L. S. C. certificate. Test 1. Jump off a low dock dressed in bathing suit, shoes, shirt waist and skirt. Swim to a given point, (about 20 yards), there undress and swim in bathing suit to another dock (about 20 yards). 2. Swim down from surface in 10 feet of water and fetch up a 2-foot birch log from bottom. 3. Rescue a non-resisting person and demonstrate the "carries" (head, under-arm and side stroke) as you bring them ashore. 4. In deep water demonstrate the correct breaks for the wrist holds, and the front and back strangle holds around the neck. 5. Demonstrate resuscitation by Schaefer method. 6. Tell proper procedure in caring for patient after breathing has been restored. Boating Boating, of which we shall first consider rowing, may also be worked out according to classes, such as: Second Class: Manoeuvre a row boat properly, i. e., unship, reverse, anchor, scull, make 3 perfect landings out of 5. First Class: Row singly for a given distance 1-1/2 miles in 40 minutes, or according to certain standards, such as: Start Row forward Row backward Manoeuvre Good landing Fasten boat Canoeing Class II. Know how to paddle bow and stern with another girl in a canoe, and make 3 out of 5 perfect landings. [Illustration: BEFORE THE CAMP FIRE IS LIGHTED] Class I. a. Handle a canoe singly in all weathers and make 3 out of 5 perfect landings, b. Climb into a canoe with another swimmer's help from the water in three consecutive trials. In your own camp when grouping sports for classification although you may get good suggestions from other methods, it is best to work out a way which meets your own particular need. Remember that the swimming and boating should be in charge of competent and responsible people or instructors and that every precaution should be taken against accident. Remember it is better to emphasize good form rather than speed or long distance swimming and the ability to meet emergencies in the water rather than stunts. Honors or recognition should be given for skill, form and improvement rather than for endurance. The interest in Water Sports is further stimulated by weekly contests or a day set apart at the end of the season called the Water Sports Day. In weekly contests enough competition takes place to keep the girls' interest in improvement constantly keen. For Water Sports Day here is a typical and comprehensive program: Canoe race 25-yard dash 50-yard dash Dives; an option of 2 out of 3 Boating race Relay swimming race Obstacle race Practical demonstration such as taught by the Women's Life Saving Corps of the American Red Cross. [Illustration: WOOD CUTTERS] If you do not wish to have too strenuous a time for Water Sports Day a carnival is suggested which is more festive and makes for a very gay and picturesque time. The carnival can be worked out in a variety of ways, but the main feature is the decking of boats and costuming of the participants, prizes being given for originality. A short program of water sports can be added. Games If there is adequate equipment Basket-ball, Baseball and Tennis become the outstanding or major games in a camp. These games should never be indulged in for the idea of winning at all costs, but for the fun that one gets out of them. Of course there will be competitive games with qualified teams and high standards of playing, but there will also be the impromptu and unexpected challenge games played in fantastic costumes, accompanied by many antics and songs composed on the inspiration of the moment, games apt to be remembered long after the other kind of competition has been forgotten. Baseball for girls or children who cannot get used to the paraphernalia of hard balls, bats and mitts, can be played with a softer ball such as a playground ball, a light bat and if necessary the simpler rules of Indoor Baseball can be adopted for out-door playing. In most camps, however, enthusiasm for real Baseball generally outweighs every handicap. Tennis does not take in the same number of players at one time as does Baseball or Basket-ball, therefore in order that everyone may get a try at it a schedule may be made out so that the courts will not be monopolized by one set of players to the exclusion of beginners or other enthusiasts. Ladder tournaments, both for singles and doubles, solve this problem somewhat and create interest, especially when the final try-outs are on. There are any number of group games, Volley Ball, Captain Ball, Relay Races and Ball Games, which are played in camps when there is adequate equipment for Basket-ball and Tennis, but more especially where there is a lack of it. Individual games, such as Archery, and Quoits make the time pass pleasantly and profitably for a few who like to go off by themselves. Dancing Dancing is an interesting pastime for camp and fills in many gaps. It is a help in entertainments and if you are to have an end of the season pageant, it is well to hold dancing classes regularly so that there will not be endless rehearsing for the last days. There are three types of dancing which can be presented. The Aesthetic or Classic, the Folk Dancing and the Social Dancing. For the most part, the Folk Dancing is freer, easy to learn and more suited to the community as a whole than the Aesthetic work. It is better not to attempt much dancing in your schedule if you have no piano or stringed pieces, for although there are phonograph records to be had, the supply is too limited to be entirely satisfactory. A collection of English Country Dances by Cecil Sharpe are dances that everyone can do and enjoy. Horseback Riding The joy of horseback riding does not find its way into every camp, mainly because of the expense and responsibility entailed, but if it does there are many facts to know and master in horsemanship. For instance, one should know how to take care of a horse, which means feeding, watering, saddling, grooming, shoeing, tying and general care necessary under different conditions. The requirements for riding are to know: 1. How to mount and dismount correctly 2. To be able to demonstrate riding at a walk, trot or gallop 3. To be able to jump a low hurdle The requirements for driving are: 1. To learn how to harness correctly in a single and double harness; and 2. How to manage a horse on the road 2. CRAFTS AND OCCUPATIONS But sports are not the only side to the camper's program. Another very large and absorbing part is the Crafts, inclusive of Handcrafts, Woodcraft, Campcraft, and the distinct Scout occupations, such as First Aid, Home Nursing, Gardening, Signalling, and Homemaking, treated in the Girl Scout Handbook. Handcrafts The handcrafts are more numerous than your fingers and can be defined as anything that is done with the hands. It is possible to have almost any branch of the Fine Arts and the Applied Arts as dyeing, batik, stenciling, woodblock printing, pottery. Then there is basketry, weaving, rug-making, leather work, and metal work in copper, or jewelry in silver, woodcarving and carpentry. The first problem is: "Who will teach it?" The choice of what handcrafts you will have then, depends somewhat on whom you can secure to present them properly. But closely allied is your second problem, "What can we afford?" Jewelry, metal work and leather are the most expensive. Pottery is fascinating, but you must have a kiln to finish the product. Try to choose the crafts which will suit the capacities. It is better not to attempt jewelry at the outset. Relating your craft work to the camp makes it doubly interesting. So much can be done in this way with carpentry which produces anything from docks and canoe paddles to furniture and toothbrush holders. Delightful problems in the interior decoration of a camp living room can be worked out by combining the efforts of all the craft workers. The carpenters build the furniture; the weavers make rugs and materials; the dyers dip the materials and carry out the color scheme and other workers supply the accessories. It is well to have an exhibition to look forward to for the end of the season when appointed judges decide upon the merit of the work. Woodcraft _Night is a dead monotonous period under a roof; but in the open world it passes lightly with its stars and dews and perfumes, and the hours are marked by changes in the face of Nature. What seems a kind of death to people choked between walls and curtains, is only a light and living slumber to the man who sleeps a-field. All night long he can hear Nature breathing deeply and freely; even as she takes her rest, she turns and smiles; and there is one stirring hour unknown to those who dwell in houses, when a wakeful influence goes abroad over the sleeping hemisphere, and all the outdoor world are on their feet. It is then that the cock first crows, not this time to announce the dawn, but like a cheerful watchman speeding the course of night. Cattle awake on the meadows; sheep break their fast on dewy hillsides, and change to a new lair among the ferns; and houseless men, who have lain down with the fowls, open their dim eyes and behold the beauty of the night._ _At what inaudible summons, at what gentle touch of Nature, are all these sleepers thus recalled in the the same hour to life? Do the stars rain down an influence, or do we share some thrill of mother earth below our resting bodies?... Towards two in the morning ... the thing takes place._ _Robert Louis Stevenson_ _From "Travels With a Donkey."_ Woodcraft in the beginning was the first science of man. As applied to camping we most frequently think of it as anything which pertains to the woods or forests and as a turning away from the more artificial side of camping, and as in pioneer times learning to do everything ourselves, which is after all the keynote of real joy in camping. [Illustration: THE LEAN-TO GOING UP] To acquaint ourselves with the woods we can begin with our immediate surroundings. Short walks to search for flowers or ferns and to know the different varieties of trees, or early morning trips to a bit of swamp land where we can study the coloring and habits of birds or sit quietly while patiently listening to distinguish them by their songs. We can lie out on the grass when the stars have come out, and study the heavens or take trips at night with an experienced woodsman, who perhaps shows us that Nature by night is very often different from Nature by day, or of how we can find a trail through a dense wood by the light of a star--the North Star. Woodcraft includes what we may merely for convenience classify as campcraft, which is to know all there is to know about camping in the open. For most purposes a good knowledge of how to make out-door fires; (both from the standpoint of heat and the kind of food to be cooked) cooking; trailing; and how to make and break a camp, are sufficient. Beginners in this lore would do well to get a thorough knowledge of campcraft by going about it one step at a time. For instance, it is advisable to confine oneself to short trips at first and learn about the sensing of directions, trail cutting and blazing, cooking, pitching tents or building lean-tos; thus taking the various branches which are preparatory to the actual experience and real adventure of a camping-out party, and it is then and there that our real knowledge is tested. The topics to be considered either when learning about campcraft or when actually doing it, are briefly: 1. _Trip Planning_ Use of maps Provisions Clothing Railroad connections 2. _Trail Making_ Survey for trail Blazing trail Cutting a trail 3. _Selection of Camp Site_ Location as to supply of fuel, water and fairly high, well-drained land. Shelters, tents or lean-tos Bed-making [Illustration: The complete lean-to, showing fire place, wood pile and table to right. Cache is in back.] 4. _Camp Discipline_ Working squad Toilet facilities Exploration parties The basis for quite a comprehensive knowledge of woodcraft in all its branches, camping and Nature Study, is to be found in the Girl Scout Handbook, "Scouting for Girls." 3. ENTERTAINMENTS AND DIVERSIONS Entertainments or shows of which there are an overwhelming variety are a great aid in keeping everyone in a cheerful frame of mind. In the dramatic line we have the play, pantomime, vaudeville, minstrel, "take offs," charades, the circus and dramatization of stories. With musical talent in a camp it adds much zest to form an orchestra and then there is the possibility of musical evenings and concerts. Added to these are the Stunt Parties, Dances and Masquerades, Marshmallow and Corn Roasts, and if it is a seashore camp, the clam bake. The play requires an amount of preparation and time not always to be spared in a camp unless the season is long. The most enjoyable shows are bound to be the more spontaneous expressions in the form of impromptu affairs. There are celebrations which take place on particular days such as the Fourth of July or any other event which you wish to commemorate, just as the pageant can be presented to display your camping or community activities. One of the finest things to cultivate if you are in close proximity to other camps is an inter-camp relationship, either in the forms of inter-camp contests or frolics, or any demonstration which you think betokens friendship. This may even go so far as the building of inter-camp shacks and the making of inter-camp trails. It is not only illuminating to come into contact with another camp besides your own--it is a source of great diversion and enjoyment, if there is plenty of fun and friendship, and an absence of group jealousy. 4. CAMP SINGS Singing is a great and important part of camp life, for it reflects every phase and meets all the situations of that life. Songs are generally composed by the individual or by groups, being the expression of their feelings, or results of their experience in camp. The songs are quickly adopted by the camp as a whole because people like to sing their own songs, especially songs about fresh, actual happenings. Some of the songs which reflect universal experience live on through the years and become traditional, while others drop out and are never heard of again. The following are Girl Scout Songs that have weathered more or less satisfactorily. THE VICTORY GIRLS (_Tune_: "K-K-Katy") G-G-G-Girl Scouts! You Victory Girl Scouts! You're the only Victory Girls that get our votes. And when you march by, Under your troop flags, We'll be cheering for your K-K-K-Khaki coats! MARCHING SONG (_Tune_: "Where Do We Go from Here, Boys?") Where do we go from here, girls, where do we go from here? Anywhere (our Captain[B]) leads we'll follow, never fear. The world is full of dandy girls, but wait till we appear--Then! Girl Scouts, Girl Scouts, give us a hearty cheer! [B] Supply Captain's name. WE'RE COMING! (_Tune_: "Old Black Joe") Camping Song I. Come where the lake lies gleaming in the sun, Come where the days are filled with work and fun, Come where the moon hangs out her evening lamp, The Scouts are trooping, trooping, trooping, back to Camp. CHORUS: We're coming! We're coming! to the lakes, the hills, the sea. Old Mother Nature calls her children--you and me! II. Come where we learn the wisdom of the wood, Come where we prove that simple things are good, Come where we pledge allegiance to our land, America! you've called your daughters--here we stand. CHORUS: We're coming! We're coming, till we spread from sea to sea, Our country needs us--wants us--calls us--you and me! RALLY SONG (_Tune_: "Smiles") There are girls that make you gloomy, There are girls that make you gay, There are girls forever hanging backward, There are girls who like to lead the way, But that girl that's always at "attention!" That her Country cannot do without, That we know the world can always count on-- She is my girl--the good Girl Scout. THE LONG, LONG LINE (_Tune_: "The Long, Long Trail") Recruiting Song Do you feel a little lonely? Are your friends too few? Would you like to join some jolly girls In the things you think and do? Don't you know your Country's waiting? Have you heard her call? See, the Scouts are crowding, crowding in, Where there's room for one and all! CHORUS: There's a long, long line a-growing, From north to south, east to west, There's a place a-waiting in it, too, that you'll fill best! We are sure you'd like to join us If you knew what we can do, And we'd like, O how we'd like, to make a good Girl Scout of you! CLIMB ALONG! (_Tune_: "Joan of Arc") _Golden Eaglet Song_ Some girls are working, some girls are shirking, Some girls are too scared to try, Pluck up your grit, girls, use all your wit, girls, See where the Gold Eaglets fly! Watch them up above there, circling in the blue, Earn them--and they'll fly to you! CHORUS: Climb along! Climb along! with a cheer and a smile and a song! Though it seems an awful lot to do, Other Scouts made good--and so can you! Climb along! Climb along! and you'll surely put it through. Then lead your troop to Victory--for the Eaglets are calling you! TENDERFOOT SONG (_Tune_: "When You Come Back") When I'm a Scout--and I _am_ a Scout, I'll make the other girls jump and look out! And as I get on, I surely will pass Like a bright lass to the Scout's Second Class. And when I've a First Class up on my sleeve, Oh, it's the proud girl I shall be! (Hurrah!) When I'm a Scout--and I _am_ a Scout, There's a big job waiting for me! ORGANIZING SONG (_Tune_: "A Hot Time in the Old Town") Come along, girls, get ready, let us form our patrol, Let us choose a dandy Captain who will make the Scouts enroll, All around us they are joining, and we can't be left behind, Get your friends all together--see how many you can find! [Illustration: THE BUILDERS. House built entirely by Girl Scouts] CHORUS: See, oh, see, the Scouts are coming in! Once they join, they stick through thick and thin, And when they play the game, they're pretty sure to win-- There'll be a Scout troop in our town this year! WINTER SONG (_Tune_: "Keep the Home Fires Burning") Keep the Scout work going, While the year is growing, Winter's cold and dready, but 'twill soon pass by! We can all remember Through the long December Camps and hikes and swims and sports in the warm July! HIKING SONG (_Tune_: "Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag") Pack up your dinner in your brown knapsack, And hike, hike, hike! Take all you need upon your own strong back, Wander where you like. Leave the roads to motor cars, The side walks to the bike--_but_ Pack up your dinner in your brown knapsack, And hike, hike, hike! SCOUT MARCHING SONG (_Tune_: "Marching Through Georgia") I. Everywhere you go to-day, you'll find a little Scout, Work or play, they lead the way, there can't be any doubt, When their Country calls on them, they answer with a shout, Rah, rah, rah, for the Girl Scouts! CHORUS: Hurrah, Hurrah, the Scouts are on their way! Hurrah, Hurrah, we're surely here to stay! Comrades all around the world, we're growing every day, Rah, rah, rah, for the Girl Scouts! II. Nothing is too big or small for any Scout to do, Call them if you need their help, and they will see you through, Here's their motto--Be Prepared!--they mean it, yes, they do! Rah, rah, rah, for the Girl Scouts! GIRL SCOUT LULLABYE When evening comes and darkness softly falls, Girl Scouts their rest around the camp fire seek And each to herself her laws recalls. Her truth, her honor, purity, obedience and loyalty While softly, the moonbeams and stars twinkle brightly, God's witnesses on high, While the bugle sounds its soft good-night. * * * * * (_Tune_: "Carry'n On," from "The Better 'Ole") The Girl Scouts are coming, their drums and their fifes Sound echoes of gladness from joyous young lives. See each is prepared to do her good deed, To God and her country and all those in need. Her knots and her signalling, first aid and drill, Show regular practice--say, ain't that some skill? CHORUS: My word, ain't they carry'n on It's just great to think upon Now Scouting's just the thing, So let your joy bells ring Because the Girl Scouts all are carrying on, It's simply great, how they're carrying on. ON THE TRAIL The Girl Scouts' Marching Song I. Oh! this is the song we sing, as the gay Girl Scouts go marching, Away on the trail we swing, with heaven over-arching, As up, up, up the hill we climb, and down, down, down again, Our hearts are happy all the time, and we step to the gay refrain, Marching on! Marching on! Marching on through rain or sunshine! CHORUS: Sing ho! for the way, and hurrah! for the day, As we march along together, Then naught are the hills, or the miles or the ills, When the Girl Scouts take the trail. Sing ho! for the way, and hurrah! for the day, As we march along together! Then naught are the hills, or the miles or the ills When the Girl Scouts take the trail. II. The sun is a comrade old, with a warm and hearty blessing, The wind, with his fingers cold, will tease in rough caressing, The friendly trees make shadow sweet, on roads that wind and wind, The grass is tender to our feet, and even the rain is kind. _Words by Abbie Farwell Brown_ _Music by Mabel W. Daniels_ _Copies to be had from National Headquarters_ [Illustration: NEARLY FINISHED] SONGS FROM IV ENCAMPMENT OF 1ST G. S. T. S. (_Tune_: "Mr. Zip Zip") COMPANY A Good morning, Caterpillar dear, Hanging down to kiss us every day; Good morning, Caterpillar dear, You're never far away. You're with us at breakfast and dinner, too; At rest your numbers are not a few. Good morning, Caterpillar dear, For the beetles soon will get you, The beetles soon will get you, The beetles soon will get you Here!!! COMPANY B Good morning! Keep your posture straight, With your spine just as long as mine; Good morning! Take your exercise, With all your bones in a line; Skull and thorax and pelvis, too, Keep a plumb line, that's what you do. Good morning! Keep your posture straight, With your spine just as long as-- Your spine just as long as-- Your spine just as long as-- Mine. COMPANY C Good morning! When inspection comes, Have your tent look just as neat as mine; Good morning! When inspection comes, Have your handles in a line; Hide your tooth brush and paper, too, Or they'll mark you down-- That's what they'll do. Good morning! When inspection comes, Have your pockets buttoned tight as-- Your tent flaps just as right as-- Your face and hands as white as-- Mine. INSTRUCTORS Good morning! G. S. T. S. girls, With your brains all in a whirl; Good morning! When the bugle sounds Each to her chase and twirl! To drill and dancing and fire galore, Swimming and posture and semaphore-- Good morning at the G. S. Camp, Where you work upon your lean-to Longer than you mean to, Where they keep you on the tramp, tramp, tramp. OFFICERS Good morning! Did you sleep last night, When the officers had passed your tents? Good morning! Don't you think they might Show a little more common sense? They say good-night when we're fast asleep, As into our cots they coyly peep; Good morning! Did you sleep last night, When the officers had passed your-- The officers had passed your-- The officers had passed your-- tents? * * * * * (_Tune_: "How You Goin' to Keep Them Down on the Farm?") How're you going to keep us happy at home, After we've been at Camp? How're you going to keep us inside the house, After we've slept in the dew and the damp? How will we remember, when we eat, Not to wipe out plates? Imagine having everything so neat. Keeping _shoes_, _soap_, _brush_, _bags_, _pins_, _towels_, Under blanket and sheet. How're we going to live in a civilized town, After we've been to Camp? [Illustration: "BE PREPARED." The Signalling Class] 5. ACHIEVEMENTS Whether you receive prizes or honors, points or merit badges for the attainment of a definite achievement in your camp work, it is more systematic to keep some sort of record of each individual's progress and accomplishment. A very simple way is a book record, but a far more interesting and successful method is to make a chart placing it on a conspicuous wall space where all may study it. On the chart will be found the names of all the campers together, with the names of all the activities. In a space under these activity headings and opposite the girl's name, a space will be reserved for recording her points. Take for example a proposed section of a chart such as the accompanying one. For every girl who has received a point on such a chart it means that she has satisfactorily complied with the standards imposed. For example, in Nature Study we may say that Scout Jane identified perfectly 20 flowers and 15 birds. [Illustration: |-------------------------------------------------------------------| |CAMP CALMACO CHART RECORD | | - for 1920 - | |---------|---------------------------------------------------------| | | Qualified As | NAMES |-----------|-----|-----|------|---------|-------|--------| | |Second |Child|First|Health|Signaller|Swimmer|Gardener| | |Class Scout|Nurse| Aide|Winner| 2 | | | |---------|-----------|-----|-----|------|---------|-------|--------| |M. Bishop| * | * | | * | | | | |---------|-----------|-----|-----|------|---------|-------|--------| |J. Deeter| * | | * | | * | * | | |---------|-----------|-----|-----|------|---------|-------|--------| |B. Dean | * | | | * | | | | |---------|-----------|-----|-----|------|---------|-------|--------| |---------|-----------------------------------------------| | | Qualified As | | NAMES |--------|---------|---------|-----|-------|----| | |Botanist|Zoologist|Map Maker|Dance|Athlete| | | | | | | | | | |---------|--------|---------|---------|-----|-------|----| |M. Bishop| | | * | * | | | |---------|--------|---------|---------|-----|-------|----| |J. Deeter| | | | | | | |---------|--------|---------|---------|-----|-------|----| |B. Dean | | * | | | * | | |---------|--------|---------|---------|-----|-------|----| I. Section of a Chart for recording achievements of Scouts. In a large camp, a permanent backer with headings can be made, and strips for each Scout pinned on and removed when she leaves camp.] Girl Scouts would work out such a chart in relation to and on the basis of the winning of merit badges in the fifty-seven-odd Scout subjects. Recording is not the only means of recognition given to a girl who has made a definite achievement along some given line. But awards and honors are often given at the end of the season in many camps. However, only the merit badges will be discussed here, as this is primarily a Manual for Girl Scout camps. It is to be remembered that the chart does not record everything about a girl. When reviewing the chart or record book before deciding who deserves the final honors, or merit badges, there are other things to be taken into account, for instance, the effort and the progress or improvement and the kind of spirit that went with the material achievement. X HIKES _Now away we go toward the topmost mountains. Many still, small voices, as well as the noon thunder, are calling, "Come higher!"_ --_John Muir_ Daytime The daytime hike gives the camper an opportunity to see something of the surrounding country, and to have the experience of following paths and trails, of climbing and coming into touch with the deep woods, and all of their beauties. Also the necessary routine and rules of an organized camp would prove unbearable to the all-summer hiker if she did not get away from them once in a while. The very purpose of the camp would be thwarted. All children are not so constituted or trained that they can go off and sleep in the woods even for one night, but they should be encouraged to take hikes varying in length from five to twenty miles according to the child's ability to endure. The daytime hikers should leave camp by ten o'clock, each one properly shod and clothed and for convenience carrying her own luncheon either in a knapsack or in a little, well-wrapped parcel. She should have her individual drinking cup, and if the hike is to include a swim in some far-off lake, a bathing suit and bath towel should be taken. There should be an objective for these daytime hikes and the paths and roads should be well known by some member of the party. Two hours is none too long a time for the noon rest and luncheon and the return trip should be planned to bring the campers into camp before supper. It is never wise to start out with a group of girls who cannot keep about the same pace. Nothing is more fatiguing than exerting oneself to keep up to a pace or on the other hand to slacken one's pace for the accommodation of the lagger. There should always be one person in charge of the entire group and she should have as many assistants as the size of the group requires. One counsellor to every ten girls is none too many for a daytime hike. Under no circumstances, even though there were but six girls, should one counsellor assume the entire responsibility for a week-end or overnight hike. There should always be at least two older people. The great opportunity for studying Nature should be taken advantage of and if possible a nature study teacher should accompany the girls. All hikers on return to camp should be examined, and any blisters, bruises, cuts or strains should be reported and properly attended to. There have been cases where from neglect, a blister on the foot has become infected, causing serious trouble. Girl Scouts when hiking along highways should walk in single file on the left hand side of the way, thus giving them an opportunity to see approaching vehicles. There are many interesting signs that can be made by Scouts when hiking, to mark the trail or note conditions observed. These signs and their uses are given in the Girl Scout Handbook and should be learned and put into practice. The use of them develops the powers of observation and makes for alertness. Week-End Hike No child should be permitted to start out on a week-end hike unless her physical condition is such as to withstand any unexpected weather conditions which might arise or prolonged exposure in the open. Also she should be properly clothed; preferably in thin woolen clothes, wearing as little as possible, yet being comfortable. Her shoes should be stout, low-heeled and round-toed. She should take with her a sweater, extra underwear, stockings, nightclothes, toilet articles, and blankets. Only sufficient food should be taken to last during the time planned for. This food should be packed in small bags, preferably waterproof. Two and a quarter pounds for one day's rations is sufficient. Cereal in some form, many prefer flour in order to make bread, a fat--such as bacon or butter--rice, for bulk, something to drink, cocoa or tea, a sweet, preferably chocolate, a small amount of sugar and raisins are suggested. Eggs can be added to the above; also salt, baking powder, evaporated milk and dried egg. Never start for a week-end hike late in the afternoon. Plan to make camp not later in the day than five o'clock. At once build the campfire and start to prepare the supper. Select suitable places on the ground for sleeping. Make sure that the ground is dry, and if possible spread a poncho under the blankets. A hole dug so that the body will fit into it and touch the ground at every point makes sleeping more comfortable. Keep the campfire burning all night, different members of the party, two at a time, being on guard. Do not have the fire too large. One of the signs of a tenderfoot woodsman is a big fire for cooking or the night watch. Not only are they dangerous, but when using them for cooking the cook as well as the food is apt to be burned. Before building the fire, scrape all leaves and dried grass from the ground, leaving a foundation of bare earth. Make sure that every vestige of fire is out upon breaking camp. Also that no evidences of a camp save the matted grass are left behind. In carrying a pack, place the load high on the back and move the body forward to keep the center of gravity. Overnight Hike _... And when the airs is warming, it's then yourself and me should be pacing ... in the dews of night, the times sweet smells do be rising, and you'd see a little shiny new moon, may be, sinking on the hills._ --_J. M. Synge_ The overnight hike is more of a lark than the week-end hike. Its principal features are sleeping in the open and cooking one's food in the most primitive manner. The same requirements as for week-end hikes should obtain as to the number of counsellors and the child's physical condition. Also she should be properly clothed for the trip as to shoes, stockings, underclothes, and so forth. The necessary equipment for an overnight hike such as nightclothes, toilet articles, etc., can be neatly laid in a blanket and the blanket rolled from end to end. It should be tied in the center, about four inches from either end and between the ends and the center with a stout string. Bring the ends together side by side and tie tightly. Throw the blanket over the head, the ends under one arm, the center of the blanket on the opposite shoulder. The hiker can take more food than is strictly necessary, for as a general thing she walks only a short distance and can thus carry a quite heavy pack. The trip should be so planned that the hikers reach their destination by five o'clock in the afternoon. The following day can be spent in exploring the surrounding country, finding as many points of interest as possible, studying the trees, the flowers, the birds, and following up any trails, paths or streams which look interesting. The day should be so planned that the return to the main camp will be accomplished in the late afternoon or early evening. [Illustration: FIRST AIDES. Several Kinds of Bandages] Camp Fires There are various kinds of camp fires that can be made and experimented with while off on a hike. The log cabin fire, in which two sticks are laid parallel to each other about nine inches apart, two more laid in the opposite direction on top of the ends of the first two sticks, the square made about three sticks high. In the center of this is laid a small fire of dried leaves and small dried twigs. When the fire is well started larger twigs should be slowly added until there is a bed of coals on which can be put short sticks of wood. The cooking utensils can be stood on the log cabin foundation if it has been made of wood sufficiently large to withstand the heat of the fire, or they can stand on a grating placed over the fire. Never cook over a blaze. Wait until there is a bed of coals. Another way of building a campfire is to select two large green logs; place them near together at one end, the other ends 18 inches or more apart and facing the wind. Build the fire in between the logs. Smooth off the top of the logs with an axe to form a support for the cooking utensils. Where large stones are available make a fireplace by putting two stones about ten or twelve inches apart at right angles to a large back stone, or place three stones to form a hollow square, building the fire in the center. Cooking utensils can be stood on a stone placed over the top of the fireplace or on a grating placed across the top, or rested on two iron bars laid on top of the fireplace. Another fire can be built by placing three medium sized sticks in the shape of an Indian tepee or wigwam. The sticks must be of about the same size and placed so carefully that they will not fall into the fire which is built underneath them. When the dried leaves and twigs have started to burn well, add a little wood of a larger size, thus gradually building up the fire. Over the fire three larger sticks can be placed--those which are three or four feet in length--brought to a point, fastened with rope and a kettle hung over the fire from the center. One of the best woods to use is scrub oak which is distributed quite widely over the United States. It burns slowly and gives out an even heat. Another fire, especially useful in the case of high wind, is built in a trench, one end of which is deeper than the other, also wider. Start the fire with dried leaves, twigs, etc., gradually adding larger wood, finally using logs placed lengthwise in the trench. This type can be used very effectively for burning garbage, particularly if the garbage is placed in the trench and the fire built on top of it. [Illustration: TO "KEEP THE HOME FIRES BURNING," KEEP THE WOOD PILE HIGH] Another type of fire which can be used for warmth even better than for cooking is built in front of three large logs placed one on top of another in slightly slanting formation. The logs serve to reflect the heat. A few suggestions may be helpful to the young camper. Before lighting your fire have at hand all of the necessary material, dried leaves, tiny dry twigs, twigs of a larger size, small sticks, and finally your heavy fuel. Do not smother the fire by starting with too much material and do not put it out by putting on too much wood at one time. The object is to have a bed of hot coals over which you can do the necessary cooking without either smoking the cooking utensils, burning the food, or burning oneself, or being choked with smoke. There are various cooking utensils and appliances made especially for campers which are both interesting to use and most serviceable. One is the grate with folding legs which can be stuck into the ground, the grate placed over the fire. Another is the reflector oven made of tin with a shelf holding a pan, the whole to be set in front of the fire, and can be used for baking bread, apple cake, etc. The greatest test for the camper is the building of a fire in rainy weather when leaves and twigs and wood are far from dry. It can be done and the greatest joy derived in the doing. Choose an old log which is not water-soaked. Split it with an axe; split one-half of it again. With a sharp knife make a little pile of shavings whittled from the heart of the log. Put them in the center of the log cabin formation. Light them from underneath (which is the way all fires should be lighted), and coax the blaze by adding dry shavings as required until there is sufficient blaze to light the small wood which has been collected. This fire takes patience and perseverance. It is sometimes possible in very wet weather to pick up small wood that has been protected from the rain; also to break off the dead wood of trees or the small twigs on the ends of the limbs to start a fire. Under no circumstances should a camper use artificial tinder of any kind. No paper, excelsior or oil should be used in building a campfire, and a Scout should need only one match. Always build a fire where the wind will blow the smoke away from the camp, and never fail to build it on the bare ground where there will be no possibility of its creeping through the grass or underbrush into the woods. After a meal when necessary to burn garbage, do not throw a quantity right on top of the fire to smoulder and cause a disagreeable odor. Rather sprinkle it around the edges that it may dry before being shoveled onto the coals. When necessary to burn papers, be careful that a burning paper does not blow into nearby brush or woods. The questions of fires and provisions for hiking are treated at length in the Girl Scout Handbook. A Deschutes River Fishing Trip in the Deep Forests of the Cascade Range North Western Washington _We are now in the mountains and they are in us, kindling enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of us. Our flesh-and-bone tabernacle teems transparent as glass to the beauty about us, as if truly an inseparable part of it, thrilling with the air and trees, streams and rocks, in the waves of the sun--a part of all nature, neither old nor young, sick nor well, but immortal._ --_John Muir_ There were ten of us--our chaperones, a man and his wife; a good all-round camp man, capable of instructing in camp life, fishing and wood knowledge of all kinds; our Captain and four Girl Scouts. We left Tacoma at seven A. M. by automobile, driving three hours to the foot of Huckleberry Mountain from which point we were to hike to camp. Here we were met by a native of the parts who was to carry a pack, as we had not enough men to manage supplies. Pack ponies are out of the question, for the trail leads for six miles over fallen trees and through dense growth. After half an hour, our packs and bed rolls adjusted, we started off at a good even pace for the river. For one mile hiking was comparatively easy. Then we had to cross the river over a fallen tree. The girls could not do this and carry their packs, so the men made several trips after which we all crossed. The time taken in crossing the river was equivalent to, a good rest, so as soon as the last member of our party was over, we readjusted our packs and started on our way. The trail now led through a dense fir forest with its scattering spruce and hemlock. For a mile it led along the high bank of the Deschutes River where we could look far down into myriads of jade-colored pools; then for a mile into the very heart of the woods among masses of glassy, dark-green ferns, and clumps of feathery, tossing maiden-hair; through Oregon grape, bright arsenic green and brilliant red. Here and there we came to a fairy-like dell, carpeted with red and green moss, starred with hundreds of flat five-petalled white blossoms. At the far corner of this nook, more unprotected where the sun shone, was a clump of the blue and white butterfly blossoms of the Mountain Lupine. In one of these dells we stopped for our luncheon. It was just past that silent hour of the woods and we could hear twigs snapping under the feet of moving animals. Birds were singing and it was the one time of day when there is a perfume in the dense woods such as we were in; a drugged perfume of sweet clover, the flowered mosses and scattered Lupine. Before leaving we each ate an orange we had been told to bring, as mountain water taken on a hike winds one too quickly. During the hike we could chew dried prunes at any time, but absolutely no water could we have until we reached camp. The trail then led back to the river bank and along it over fallen logs and among trees deeply laden with hanging silver grey moss. This lasted for two miles, until the river split, forming a small island easily reached by stepping stones, where camp was made. The very first thing done was to teach the girls how to make beds, which we did, while the men cut hemlock boughs; our extra man remaining long enough for that. The second thing was to pick out places for our beds and as soon as there were enough boughs we placed our bags, already made, upon them. The men then gathered enough wood for that night and the following morning. Pitch torches were made and stacked where we could get them. While they were busy with this heavy work that had to be accomplished before night the girls gathered rocks for the oven, and dug a hole for the cache. This hole was lined with one of the small tarpaulins, all food placed in it, tarpaulin drawn over, and slabs of bark then placed over the hole. This protected food, both from weather and animals. A shelf was made on the side of one of the trees on which the baking powder tins were placed with salt, sugar, part of flour, such things as coffee, jam, milk, etc., that were already in tins were also kept on this shelf. [Illustration: AROUND THE CAMPFIRE] This work was completed by five-thirty, the cook oven constructed and second fire made around which the beds were placed. Dinner over, we turned in early, being exhausted, in spite of the good condition we were all supposed to be in for the trip. We slept in our clothes with cap and bed socks for extra warmth and comfort. The two men did not sit up all night, but took turns keeping up the fire as it needed attention. The only animals are deer and cougar, the former harmless, while the latter seldom come near camp except when it is deserted. They cause little trouble in the woods, as we never go alone, but always in couples. They will track a single person, but _never_ two. Morning routine commenced with a dip in the river and change of clothes. As we wear our breeches when out fishing and our skirts in camp, no extra heavy wearing apparel need be carried. Immediately after breakfast the beds are always taken apart, blankets folded and placed on second small tarpaulin in lean-to which had been constructed from large slabs of bark against a tree. This lean-to kept bedding protected from the atmosphere and animals, as well as serving a second purpose of camp orderliness and neatness. A second lean-to was made for wood, bark and pitch torches. The first morning it was necessary to complete camp construction before the fun commenced. Shelves were made on the river bank for toilet articles, nails placed for towels, etc., and saplings formed as a screen for fear of a chance fisherman or game protector passing by. On the other side of the island a place was made for washing dishes. Camp made, we were free to go fishing. So taking a can of unsalted salmon eggs in our pockets, our rods, and a v-shaped twig to carry our fish on, we were off until lunch. We all assist in making and cleaning up after this meal. Then an hour of rest is followed by fishing, learning woodcraft methods of various kinds, or anything that we may choose to do. Dinner was prepared while there was still daylight, and then the best part of camp life began--telling stories around the fire, studying the stars and singing to the accompaniment of mandolin and ukulele, always carried on a trip of this kind. The large tarpaulins brought are for emergency only, in case of a thunderstorm. Such occurring we gather all our beds together into one row and the tarpaulin is placed over them, under which we lie until the storm is over. By crawling out carefully we can gather up tarpaulin and shake it out away from our bedding and thus we can keep dry without the shelter of cabin, tent or lean-to. This is a general routine of a short roughing trip in the deep mountain forests of North Western Washington. The only addition necessary for the ordinary Girl Scout equipment for a week-end hike is fishing rods and tackle. [Illustration: GIRL SCOUT "HAYSEEDS" AND THE STACK THEY MADE] XI. CAMP HEALTH AND CAMP SAFETY _Ye, use ... this medicine Every day this May or thou dine, Go looke upon the fresh daisie And though thou be for wo in point to die, That shall full greatly lessen thee of thy pine._ --_Chaucer_ 1. CAMP SANITATION Too great stress cannot be laid upon the question of sanitation. Make the camp safe if you would have a healthful, happy camp, and keep it orderly if you would keep it safe. The time to make the camp safe is before and during the process of building and prior to each camp season if an old camp is used. Certain known things are fore-runners of trouble and should be avoided or safeguarded against from the start. Among these are low, damp ground, impure water, an insufficient supply of water, unsafe bathing conditions, such as deep water only, a very swift current, undertow, shallow water and a quick drop, holes, and so forth; proximity to pest breeding places such as pools of stagnant water, marshes where mosquitoes breed, uncared-for out houses, barns, and dumps; inadequate latrine facilities, and so forth. The keeping of the camp safe is a daily matter which includes the disposal of all waste, the cleaning of the camp grounds and all buildings, the inspection of the water supply, provisions, equipment, the latter in a general way, the guarding against pests of any kind and the personal health of the campers. Disposition of Trash Every morning all trash should be collected and properly disposed of. Burning is the only method unless arrangements have been made to have all dry waste carted away. For burning light trash use a small incinerator two feet high and eighteen inches in diameter, made of iron, and with a cover circular in shape and perforated closely with holes half an inch in diameter. When in use the incinerator should stand in an open place away from all tents and buildings. The heavier trash, such as old shoes, paste-board boxes, discarded clothing, should be burned in a heap away from all buildings, care being taken that no bits of hot paper cause grass fires, or blow into the woods. [Illustration: "OVER THE TOP"] Wooden boxes in which provisions are shipped can be split up for kindling wood, or if the boxes are large and well made, kept for packing equipment for storage. Some of the well-made boxes are very serviceable to use as seats, and one could be placed in the kitchen to hold wood. Butter tubs, if washed and dried, can be used to hold vegetables or other provisions. Barrels should never be thrown away if in good condition. They are invaluable when packing dishes or kitchen ware and during the summer will hold sacks of provisions such as cereal, rice, hominy, beans, and so forth. All tin cans should be rinsed out as soon as emptied, burned on the trash heap and when cold thrown into a covered pit, or into covered barrels to be carted away at the end of the season. Garbage There are three ways of disposing of garbage when in camp. Burn it, bury it, give it away. Sometimes all three ways are necessary in one camp. If the group is small and there is little garbage it can be thrown around the edge of a hot fire and when dried out, raked onto the hot coals. In larger camps a portable incinerator can be used. One form has a basin over the fire pot, into which garbage is placed to be dried out and then turned into the fire. In camps of 100 or more people where burning is difficult, pits for burying garbage have been found satisfactory if properly cared for and dug not near the camp buildings or source of water supply. They should be deep, oblong in shape, and the earth should be thrown up at one side to be used in covering the garbage as soon as it is thrown into the pit. In a camp where there is no plumbing, liquid waste as well as garbage, can be disposed of in the following way. Dig a trench four feet long, two feet deep and thirty inches wide at one end; eight inches wide and level with the ground at the other end; line with stone, or if this is impossible, use tin, sheet iron, or brick. Put the garbage into the trench, build a fire on top of it, when the fire is very hot pour the liquid waste into the trench at the small end. If there is a great deal of garbage some of it will have to be put on top of the fire which should be made of heavy logs of hard wood. Tin cans can be burnt in this fire and then treated as stated before. The disposing of camp garbage is not a difficult matter if some system and care are used. It is necessary to have a covered pail near the kitchen door for use during the day. The contents of this pail should be burned or buried every night after supper and if necessary once during the day, preferably after dinner. If this pail is lined with two or three thicknesses of newspaper each time after emptying, it will be kept in good condition. If garbage is to be carted out of camp, have proper receptacles for transporting it and do not let too much accumulate at any one time. Under no circumstances allow waste food to be strewn on the ground anywhere within camp limits, or the ground around the garbage pail, pit or incinerator to be untidy. One of the best disinfectants for latrines and garbage pits is smouldering tar paper. Break the paper into small pieces, throw into the latrine or pit, light and let smoulder. Pests At least twice a week camp grounds should be thoroughly inspected to make sure that there are no pest breeding places such as pools of stagnant water, old tin cans in which water will collect, trash heaps, and so forth. It is much easier to keep flies and mosquitoes away by doing away with such places, than it is to exterminate them after they have come in large numbers. If camp grounds and buildings are cleaned every day and all waste properly disposed of, there is little danger of trouble from pests. In localities where mosquitoes and flies are very troublesome other precautions should be taken. It might be necessary to have mosquito netting over the cots at night and fly paper in the kitchen and store closet. A piece of absorbent cotton saturated in citronella and hung on the tent poles at either end of the tent will sometimes keep mosquitoes away as they dislike intensely any strong odor. If ants get into the kitchen or store closets borax sprinkled on the shelves will often send them away, or if they are very troublesome dishes of food can be stood in pans of water. Water Supply An adequate water supply is most essential for any camp, and should be one of the first things to be considered in selecting a site. Springs and wells generally supply the camper with drinking water; lakes and streams with wash water. Few springs or wells can supply enough water for all purposes when a camp is large. Whatever the source of supply the drinking water should be tested by the Health authorities before camp opens, and at any time there is any question concerning it. Springs and wells should be cleaned out and the former protected with boards or screening if necessary. Too much thought cannot be given to the question of the water, as to its purity and quantity. Children drink a great deal in hot weather and much has to be used for cooking and washing. If there is any danger of the drinking supply giving out, to prevent waste, allow only one or two people to draw water and then only when necessary. Keep covered tanks or coolers of drinking water in shady places, convenient for the campers. Caution all as to wastefulness and if in case of an emergency there is only a very little, place a counsellor in charge of it and deal it out by the cupful, seeing that all have an equal share. Of course, only individual cups should be used. Should there be any doubt as to the purity of the water, boil it for twenty minutes, place in earthenware or agate vessels, cool, cover and lower the vessels down the well, or put them in the ice box, or some cool place for the water to get cold. Water for cooking can be taken from a lake or stream. It is generally boiled. If the only source of supply is a brook or stream, water for drinking should be taken above camp. All vessels in which it is carried or kept should be thoroughly washed each day. No camp should remain open if the water supply is not what it ought to be. If a camp is supplied with running water and plumbing has been installed the location and covering of the tank and the cesspool are important things to consider. The drain pipes connected with sinks or tubs should be flushed occasionally with disinfectants, the sink drain cleaned daily with boiling water and washing soda. Marsh land near a camp site which is otherwise desirable, if treated with crude oil or the water drained off by ditches, will not prove a menace. Latrines Every camp must be provided with adequate latrine service. One unit for every eight or ten people is considered necessary. The type of latrine to be used will depend on existing conditions at the camp site, but whatever it is the greatest care must be taken to keep them clean. Seats and covers should be scrubbed every day, houses swept and toilet paper provided. Covers should not remain open, and it should be considered a misdemeanor to throw cloths of any kind into a latrine. As a place must be provided for them it is suggested that a small portable incinerator be kept in a closed box stood in one corner of the latrine house, and that the incinerator be removed every day to a near-by open place and the contents burned. [Illustration: VOLLEY BALL] Latrines should be cleaned out before camp opens and the ground around them left perfectly clean. As a precaution make sure that no part of the contents is deposited anywhere near camp. If the ordinary out-of-door closet is used, see that chloride of lime is sprinkled in the pit daily. If a small group is to be provided for in a temporary camp and a latrine must be built, the earthen closet will probably give the best satisfaction. This is made by digging a trench 2 ft. wide, 3 ft. deep and in length 2 ft. for each unit. Over the trench place a box seat 17 inches high, with holes having hinged covers. Bank earth around the bottom of the box and in front of it place a board walk. Protect the seat by pitching a tent over it or encircling it with a strip of canvas 5 ft. high, fastened to posts, the ends of which pass each other forming a protected doorway. A box of earth and a small shovel should be kept in the tent and every time the closet is used earth should be thrown into it. Lime should be used daily. When necessary to dig a new trench make sure that the old one is properly filled in. A latrine of this kind must not be placed near any water supply. A type of latrine which is being built on permanent camp sites in the Palisades Interstate Park and which has been developed by the engineers of the Park Commission, is giving such satisfaction that an outline of its construction is herewith given. Dig a pit in which is built a concrete tank 3 ft. wide, 3 ft. deep at one end, and 3 ft. 8 inches at the other, and 17 ft. in length for eight units, the concrete 6 inches thick. Build over it a house 6 or 7 ft. wide, the rear and one side wall of which rest on the rear and lower end wall of the pit. The deep end of the pit for 18 inches is left outside of the house. This opening, which must have an adjustable cover, is used when cleaning the pit. Floor the building to within 20 inches of the rear wall. Cover the opening in the floor with a box seat 17 inches high leaving in it properly made toilet seats, 2 ft. apart from center to center, with covers. Make four agitators, one for every two units, by fastening a wooden paddle 5 x 7 inches onto one end of a 5-ft. length of 2-inch iron pipe. Put the pipes through a slot in the seat between the two openings, the paddle at right angles to the length of the seat, and clearing the bottom of the pit by three inches. The agitators are held in place by clamps attached to the bottom of he seat which allows the pipe handle to be moved from side to side. Vent pipes 4 inches in diameter extend from the pit up through the seat back of each cover, and through the roof for 18 inches. Charge the pit with 175 gallons of water and 240 pounds of Kaustine, a patented chemical compound. By moving the agitator handles from side to side whenever the latrine is used all solid matter is brought in contact with the Kaustine solution and decomposed. As with all other latrines, the house must be kept clean and the seats scrubbed each day. It is not necessary to use any disinfectants in this type of house, but it should have two doors and windows. 2. FIRST AID First Aid supplies are a necessity in camp and should always be provided. Some one person must be responsible for them and when possible this person should be either a trained nurse or a practical nurse. Essential Supplies Absorbent cotton Sterile gauze Bandages Iodine Vaseline Bicarbonate of soda Castor oil Alcohol and sugar of lead (for ivy poisoning) Hot water bottle Alcohol Aromatic Spirits of Ammonia Epsom salts Small alcohol stove and pan Cascara White enamel basin Towels The nurse should have a tent or a corner in some building where a table and shelf covered with oil cloth and a bed can be placed and all supplies properly cared for. No one should be allowed to take any of the supplies without her permission. 3. FIRE PREVENTION It is advisable to have in every camp, pails of water standing in the mess hall, in the kitchen, or in other accessible places, or small chemical fire apparatus to be used in case of necessity. A fire drill is also an essential provision. Place the indoor camp stove on a concrete base with zinc back of it. In building the mess hall chimney, be sure that two flues are built, in case one needs to be used for the kitchen stove pipe, as one flue cannot be used for two fires. 4. THE HEALTH WINNER IN CAMP Before any child is admitted to a Girl Scout camp she should have been thoroughly examined by a competent physician. These examinations should be arranged for by the Local Councils. With very slight effort it is possible to enlist the interest of physicians, particularly women physicians, in making these examinations. The accompanying certificate (p. 52) is particularly recommended as preferable to an informal statement. This certificate, properly filled out, should be of great assistance to the Camp Director in safeguarding the health of the Scouts in camp. It must be remembered that young girls are ambitious to do all that their fellows do, and very seldom are willing to admit any physical disability. The responsibility should not be on their shoulders. Camp life subjects each person to quite unusual physical exertion which in some cases may amount to a strain. The things to be especially guarded against are heart disturbances, either functional or organic; painful or too profuse menstruation; flat foot, weak backs and prolapsed intestine. Under-nutrition and anemia will usually be automatically corrected by life in the open and the consequent increased appetite. No child who is markedly undernourished, however, should be allowed to take extraordinary exercise until she has begun to gain. Before the Scouts start for camp they should be assembled and inspected in a group by a nurse, or some other person competent to detect body and head lice. No Scout should be allowed to come to camp infested with vermin, and yet this happens repeatedly unless definite precautions are taken. As a rule this cannot be left to the examining physician. If this examination is made as early as a week ahead of the time to start for camp the children's heads can be cleansed. To cleanse the head from lice, rub the scalp and saturate the hair with kerosene. Tie the head up in a thick, clean cloth held in place with safety pins. Leave the bandage on over night. After removing the bandage it should be plunged at once into hot soap suds, and thoroughly washed. Wash the scalp and hair with castile or ivory soap, rinsing thoroughly. Dry with clean towels. Combs and brushes should be thoroughly cleansed before using. It may be necessary to repeat this process once. The ideal should be held before each Scout of having her health record while in camp a perfect one. Should any unforeseen trouble arise, however, she must report at once to the nurse or Director. Whenever possible, sleep with tent sides and flaps up; never with the tent closed except in case of a severe storm. Indigestion, constipation, diarrhea, headaches, bruises, blisters, strains and sprains, insect bites, sunburn and ivy poisoning are some of the common camp ailments that have to be dealt with. Observing the Scout Health requirements as discussed in the Handbook, "Scouting for Girls," helps very much in establishing a healthy Scout camp and keeping out of it conditions which are often due to carelessness. [Illustration: THE FIRST AID HOUSE] XII FEEDING THE MULTITUDE 1. PROVISIONING To buy in large quantities at wholesale and pay for the order within ten days is economy. To ship by boat and not by rail, when possible, also saves money. To have a dry, well ventilated store room and an ice room is to save still more. It is possible and feasible to order before camp opens, the necessary dry groceries and canned goods to be used in a camp of 150 during a period of four to five weeks, and to care for same in a comparatively small space. The amounts needed can be computed from the amounts necessary for a family of four or six. In fact, the knowledge necessary to provide properly for a family under ordinary circumstances is of the greatest help in providing for a camp be it large or small. There are many good cook books which specify quantities for given numbers of people; knowing these, the numbers of campers to be fed per day, the amounts in which various kinds of dry provisions are sold at wholesale, gives one the key to the situation. By making out roughly a week's menus, a close estimate can be made. Cereals, flours and meals can be bought by the sack and range in weight from 50 to 100 pounds. Sugar can be bought by the bag or barrel, the latter being better because it is cleaner. Navvy beans, to be used for baking, are sold in bags, 150 or 160 pounds in a bag. Baking powder is bought in 5-lb. tins. Cocoa is bought in 25-lb. drums. Macaroni comes in 22-lb. boxes. Peanut butter in 10-lb. pails. Crisco comes in 6-lb. cans; molasses in No. 10 tins, 6 tins in a case; tomatoes in No. 10 tins, 6 in a case; apple butter in 30-lb. pails; cod fish in 20-lb. boxes; soap, 1 case of 100 bars; butter in 63-lb. tubs; eggs in a case of 30 dozen; prunes, apricots, peaches in 25-lb. boxes; raisins in 25-lb. boxes; cheese, 30 lbs. (whole cheese); split peas in 60-lb. bag; vanilla in pint or quart bottles; salt, 25-lb. bag; corn starch, 1 package of 2 dozen boxes; soda, cinnamon, nut meg, ginger, pepper and mustard to be bought in small quantities as needed. Fresh milk, if obtained from a dairy, is delivered in 40-qt. cans. A quart and a cup per person per day is a good allowance for drinking and cooking purposes. If fresh milk is not obtainable, or can be had only in small quantities, a good brand of evaporated milk should be kept on hand. Fresh vegetables are bought either by the pound, bunch, quart, peck or bushel. In so far as is possible they should be cooked the day they are delivered. If, however, it is necessary to buy vegetables at one time for two or three days' supply, use first such things as spinach, peas, beans and corn, for cabbages, carrots, beets, tomatoes and squash are more easily kept and are not so impaired in flavor by keeping. If fresh meat or chicken is to be served it should be cooked the day it is delivered, or kept on ice until such time as it will be needed. Fresh fish should be handled with great care and not allowed to remain off the ice for any length of time. There are so many wholesome substitutes for meat that it seems entirely unnecessary for campers to have meat more than once or at most twice a week. In the summer time, it is very heating, and also the meat which is obtainable in small communities is very often not the best quality, to say nothing of being very expensive. An occasional pot roast of the top of the round, or a roast of lamb, or a piece of corned beef can be used. Fresh fish when obtainable and well cooked is always most acceptable. [Illustration: THE WEAVERS] Canned meat and canned fish are not recommended. Care of Provisions All bags of cereal, meals or flour should be placed in covered barrels, boxes or tubs stood on a platform raised from the floor. Boxes of dried foods such as fruit, cod fish and so forth should be stacked, each kind in a pile and placed on the platform. All tinned goods should be taken out of their cases and laid on shelves. Butter, crisco, eggs, peanut butter, apple butter, and so forth, should be kept in the ice house. Cheese should be wrapped in cheese cloth wrung out in vinegar and kept in a box on a shelf in the store room, not in the ice box. The handling of fresh milk is something which should be done with great care. After opening a large can, the milk should be stirred with a long ladle which reaches to the bottom of the can. The quantity of milk needed should be taken out and put in a pitcher. For dipping out the milk use a dipper which has been sterilized by placing it in boiling water and cooled by allowing cold water to run over it. This dipper should not be used for any other purpose than taking milk from the large can and when not in use can hang in the ice room. Milk cans should always be kept covered and no milk which has once been taken out of a can should ever be poured back into it. What is left from the table should be put in a pitcher and stood in the ice house to be used for cooking. Milk which is handled in this way and which comes from a first class dairy will keep sweet for three days. It is not essential to keep fresh vegetables in an ice house. If the tops are cut off, vegetables can be kept in baskets in the store room. Under no circumstances should anything hot or even warm be put into the ice box, as the steam which arises from the combination of cold and heat will decompose food very quickly, or cause it to sour. Anything that is hot and needs to be cooled before placing in the ice box should be covered with cheese cloth kept for the purpose and stood on the store room shelves. Bread, if bought from a bakery, can be kept in a barrel or on shelves and covered with cheese cloth. The sandwich loaves are recommended as they cut to better advantage in the bread cutter, and are more economical in the long run. These loaves weigh about three pounds apiece and cut into from 40 to 45 slices. Ice cream salt should not be kept in the store room, but in a half-barrel or tub outside of the kitchen door. Salt causes dampness, which is not desirable. The bag of table salt should stand in a tub or box of some kind. Fruit, especially tomatoes and peaches, should be watched closely as little flies are apt to collect on them. It is most essential that the store room be swept, the shelves brushed, and everything not of use removed from it every morning. This is true with the care of an ice box or room. Not a day should pass that it is not thoroughly inspected and all that is not usable removed from it, and the room left in a perfectly clean, wholesome condition. The ice compartment should be washed out two or three times a week before the fresh ice is put into the box. Do not buy more perishable food than can be properly taken care of and used within a day or two. Watch it closely, pick it over each day and throw out any part which shows signs of decay. Do not neglect to replenish the larder before supplies are out, as transportation is slow. Do not forget that large quantities take much more time to cook than small quantities. Many times meals are not served on time for this reason. Make a point of weighing, measuring and apportioning. It is economy to do so. Nail a card in the kitchen on which is given the quantities of those things which are used constantly and the number of people each quantity will supply: sugar, butter, bread, cereal, cocoa, dried fruit. Buy only what is needed and can be properly stored. The second grade of many foods is as good as the first in taste, and as nourishing. It costs less, and many times simply because it is not perfect in size or uniformity. To buy in bulk is less expensive than to purchase boxed or tinned goods. This rule for campers pertains particularly to cereals, crackers, meals, flours, sugar, cocoa, raisins, etc. When buying fresh fruits, vegetables or meat, take advantage of the market, even if it means a quick change of menus. A surplus means low prices. Having bought what is the best or the best that can be afforded, do not spoil it in the preparation, cooking or serving. A deplorable condition exists in many homes and doubtless camps as well, because the art of provisioning from first to last is not better understood. The Girl Scout camps must prove that thrift and good food go hand in hand; also that in every department related in any way to our food, which is of such importance to health and happiness, the most approved methods are used. 2. CAMP MENUS AND RECIPES The condition of one's health is probably more dependent on what one eats than on any other single thing. Certain foods are necessary to keep the body in good physical condition and certain combinations of foods are not only better for the body but more pleasing to the palate than others. There is a psychology of food which, if studied, is interesting, and which, if applied, is most helpful. How many times _quantity_ has not satisfied an appetite when _quality_ has. Living in the open creates an appetite, generally for quantity rather than quality; but this is no reason why the latter should be overlooked. The facilities for cooking and preparing food for obtaining variety are limited, and for this reason the deficit must be made up in other ways. Cereals, fats, liquids, fresh vegetables, fruits and sweets are necessary, and a little meat may be added. Starchy foods are used for bulk and should include the cereals, such as rice, hominy, oatmeal, shredded wheat, cornmeal and macaroni, and potatoes. For fat, butter of the _best_ quality should be used on the table, and crisco for cooking. Liquids, fresh milk, the best that can be obtained, cocoa and plenty of pure water; fresh vegetables, any and all kinds procurable; those which are camp standbys are string beans, beets, carrots, spinach, peas, squash, potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce. Fresh fruit, if not too expensive, as it is in some parts of the country, is desirable; otherwise dried fruits must be used--apricots, peaches, prunes, apples. It is sometimes possible to secure fresh berries. _Lamb_: For small groups buy a leg or hind quarter of lamb for roasting, the shoulder for stews, chops for broiling. For a large group, buy whole lambs and cut at camp; 40 or 50 pounds is enough for one meal. Before cooking, wipe off with a damp cloth and rub with salt. _Beef_: A pot roast is best. Use the top of the round which can also be used for roasting or making meat pies. Twenty-five or thirty pounds for a pot roast is sufficient for 130 people. When buying beef make sure that it is not too fresh, for it will be tough; also, the fibre should not be coarse. The meat should be deep red in color and juicy. For soup, buy shin beef. _Fowl_: Chickens are too expensive for camp use. Fowl properly cooked are very nice. Buy those that are fat and yellow in color. Four pounds will serve five campers. Cut the meat from the bones before serving and use the bones for soup. _Fish_: Fish must be fresh or it is not fit even to be cooked. It should be firm and look fresh. Small fish, cod, halibut or special fish in special localities are good for camp use. _Sweets_: Simple desserts, such as bread pudding, rice pudding, cottage pudding, apple pudding, Indian pudding, corn starch, blanc mange, ice cream, apple butter and jam, sherbets, chocolate pudding, ginger bread and cookies are used; of course, raw sugar and syrup in moderate quantities. _Meat substitutes_: Baked beans, cheese, eggs. _Soups_: Soup is wholesome, economical and, when well made, palatable. It is particularly good on cold days for supper. Vegetable soups without meat, and cream soups are the best for campers. Save the water in which vegetables have been boiled for making soup; that drained from rice, potatoes, spinach, peas or string beans is best. The rice water may have added to it tomatoes and seasoning. To potato and spinach water, add milk, thickening and seasoning. _Breads_: Serve rye bread, whole wheat, graham, corn bread and a limited amount of white bread; too much of the latter is not healthful. _Menus_: A menu is merely a combination of a few of the above-listed foods prepared in a variety of ways. Do not serve two starches at the same time, or two creamed vegetables, or a starch and vegetables without a sauce or gravy. Bread of some kind, a liquid and a fat are served with every meal. For breakfast there should be cereal, and if desired a stewed fruit, perhaps eggs in some form, but they are not necessary. Dinner should include one starch, two fresh vegetables and a dessert, or, fish, a starch, one green vegetable and a dessert; or, meat, two vegetables and a dessert; or a meat substitute, a vegetable, and a dessert. For supper, fresh or stewed fruit, plenty of milk if possible, a sweet, and either cheese, peanut butter, a salad or a soup. CAMP FOODS _Soups_ Potato and Onion Corn Chowder Tomato Vegetable Split Pea Clam or Fish Chowder _Fish_ Flounder Weak Fish Salt Cod Butter Fish Salmon (fresh) Mackerel _Meat Substitutes_ Baked Beans Cheese Omelet Peanut Butter Komac Stew Eggs Brunswick Stew _Meats_ Roast Lamb Lamb Stew Pot Roast Roast Beef Corned Beef Beef Pie Meat Loaf Bacon Ham Salt Pork _Vegetables_ Peas String Beans Beets Carrots Cabbage Potatoes Squash Onions Spinach Cucumbers Tomatoes Green Peppers Corn Cauliflower Macaroni Spaghetti Rice Baked Hominy _Breads_ Brown Bread Rye Bread Corn Bread Baking Powder Biscuit Graham Bread White Bread (in small quantities) Spoon Bread Whole Wheat Bread Toast Griddle Cakes _Desserts_ Indian Pudding Chocolate Pudding Rice Pudding Apple Cake Brown Betty Apple Tapioca Bread Pudding Berry Pudding Ice Cream Milk Sherbet Fruit Sherbets Ginger Bread French Toast Cornstarch Pudding Apple Slump Stewed Fruits Apple Butter Jam Cookies _Cereals_ Oatmeal Hominy Corn Meal Post Toasties Shredded Wheat Wheatena _Beverages_ Cocoa Milk Lemonade Postum NOTE: It is suggested that a convenient form for keeping these foods will be a card index with a separate card for each food, together with a recipe, and quantities needed for the camp in question. RECIPES _Bread and Cereals_ _Biscuit, Baking Powder_ For 4 persons 1 large cup flour 1 heaping teaspoonful baking powder 1 teaspoonful salt Crisco, bacon fat or butter and lard mixed, piece size of an egg Milk With knife chop the fat into the dry mixture thoroughly, add slowly the milk, stirring gently with a spoon. Make the dough soft and spongy but not thin enough to run. With a very little fat grease the bottom of a pan. Drop the dough from the end of a spoon onto the pan in quantities the size of a Uneeda lunch biscuit and about 3/4 of an inch thick, leaving space between them. Bake in a reflector oven before a hot fire for 20 minutes, or cover tight with another pan and bury in hot ashes under a fire. _Bread for Hikers._--1/2 white flour, 1/2 yellow meal; 1-5 powdered milk; 1/10 powdered egg; salt and baking powder; bake in frying pan tightly covered and buried in ashes. _Cereals_ _Cornmeal_ 1 cup meal 1 teaspoonful salt Pour boiling water onto the meal a little at a time, beating fast and hard. When the mixture is the consistency of mush, cover the kettle, place it in the outer kettle and cook all night. Cereals prepared in this way are much more digestible and palatable than when boiled quickly over a hot fire and stirred constantly. Hominy can be cooked in this way, using I cup hominy and four cups of water; small amount of salt. Rice also may be cooked this way. Wash the rice carefully, 1/2 cup to 3 cups of water, 1 scant teaspoonful of salt. Rolled Oats for 4 persons Two small pieces of wood an inch thick to serve as a pot rest. 3 cups of cold water 1 teaspoonful salt 1 cup oat meal Bring water to boiling in small kettle, add salt, add oatmeal very slowly. Boil over fire 5 minutes stirring occasionally; cover tight. Place the pieces of wood in the larger kettle, stand cereal kettle on them and pour hot water to the depth of 3 inches into larger kettle. Cover, hang over slow fire for all night. Do not uncover until ready to use. _Dumplings_ 3/4 cup of flour 1 scant teaspoonful baking powder 1 teaspoonful salt Enough milk to make a spongy dough Add baking powder and salt to flour. Add milk slowly, drop mixture from end of spoon onto the boiling stew, cover tightly and cook for 15 minutes. _Toast_ Cut the bread not less than 1/2 inch thick. Brown over coals, not flames. Use a fork, wire toaster, or two green wood sticks. _Cocoa_ 1 heaping teaspoonful sweetened cocoa 3/4 cup water 1/2 cup milk Boil the water, put cocoa in cup, add part of the boiled water, mix thoroughly. Add to rest of water, boil 2 minutes, add milk, heat to boiling point but do not boil. Be careful not to burn. If condensed milk is used, mix cocoa and two teaspoonfuls of condensed milk together and add the water, bring to the boiling point. _Desserts_ _Apple Cake_ For 4 persons Make a baking-powder biscuit dough (see rule) and spread it in an oblong pan having the dough about 2 inches thick. The pan should be greased slightly. Peel and core and cut in quarters 2 large apples. Slice these thin, and place on the dough in rows, each slice held in place by pressing it down into the dough a little. The slices should be near together. Sprinkle 3/4 of a cup of sugar over the top, add small pieces of butter and a little grated nutmeg. Bake in a reflector oven in front of hot fire until the apples are soft--about 1/2 hour. _Apples, Fried_ For 4 persons 2 large apples Small piece of butter or bacon fat Wash apples, remove stems and blossoms, cut across the core in slices 1/2 inch thick; heat pan, melt fat in it, put in apple slices, brown on one side, turn and brown on the other. Or, grease a broiler, place the slices on it and broil the apples over hot coals until tender and brown. _Apple Slump_ For 4 persons Peel and cut in eighths, 4 apples. Put in a kettle with 1 cup of water, 1/2 cup of sugar, 1/2 cup of molasses; cover and place on the stove or over a slow fire. Make a dough as for dumplings (see rule). Drop the dough onto the hot apples. Cover tight and cook 20 minutes. Serve with cream, milk or hard sauce. Blue berries, huckleberries, peaches, can be used in place of apples, omitting the molasses and adding a little more sugar. _Dried Fruit_ All dried fruit should be thoroughly washed in cold water, covered with fresh cold water and allowed to soak all night, stewed slowly over a low fire or on the back of the stove for an hour. Add, if necessary, sugar; stew 15 minutes longer and set away to cool. Do not stew fruit in tin receptacles; use enamel or agate. _Indian Pudding_ For 5 persons 1/2 cup of Indian meal 3/4 cup of molasses 1 teaspoonful of salt Mix thoroughly, add to 1 quart of scalded milk, cook in double boiler 1/2 hour, stir often. Pour into buttered baking dish; allow to cool. Pour 1 cup cold water on top of pudding. Do not stir it in. Bake in a slow oven 3 hours. _Rice Pudding_ For 4 persons Butter a bowl or deep dish, pan if necessary; put into it 1 quart of milk, 1 tablespoonful of washed rice, 1 teaspoonful of salt, 1/2 cup of sugar, small piece of butter; cover and cook in slow oven, stirring occasionally, for 3 hours. Remove cover last 1/2 hour. _Meat, Fish and Meat Substitutes_ _Bacon_ Sliced bacon can be broiled by placing it on the end of a sharp stick held over the fire and turned over and over; or put into a very hot frying pan. Be careful that the fat does not catch on fire. If staying in camp for another meal, save the bacon drippings and use them for frying potatoes, cakes or use for shortening. _Beans, Baked_ (The Real Boston Article) For 4 persons 1 large cup of pea beans or navy beans 1/2 lb. salt pork 1 scant tablespoonful molasses 2 teaspoonfuls salt Pinch of soda Wash and pick over the beans, cover with cold water and soak over night. Place on the stove and boil very gently for two hours; drain off the water, put the beans in a deep dish with a cover, or in a pan; wash the pork and cut the rind side into small squares or strips. Put in the pot so the rind is above the beans; add 1 dessertspoonful of molasses, the salt and soda, cover with hot water, cover the pot and place in a moderate oven for 4 or 5 hours. It may be necessary to add more water during that time, as the beans should be covered with water for the first 3 hours. For the last half hour the cover can be removed from the pot. If baked in an open pan, cook for 3 hours; keep the beans covered with water for 2 hours and then brown during the next hour. _Beef, Shriveled_ 1 lb. of shaved beef Small piece of butter Heat the fry pan, melt butter in it, tear beef into small bits, put in pan, stir with fork until shriveled and very hot. Serve at once. _Cheese and eggs_ For 4 persons 1/2 lb. cheese 4 eggs Salt 1/2 cup of milk Butter size of an egg Melt the butter in the frying pan, add the cheese which has been sliced thin, stir until the cheese is melted, adding the milk gradually; add the salt and the beaten eggs. Cook for 5 minutes. Serve on toast or crackers. _Codfish, Creamed_ Buy boneless cod, in boxes. Cover it with cold water. Soak over night. In the morning place on stove and boil 1/2 hour. Pull apart into small pieces, add cream sauce, and serve. _Scrambled Eggs_ Butter size of hickory nut 1 egg 1 tablespoonful of cold water Pinch of salt, dash of pepper Heat in frying pan, melt butter in it, break egg in cup (be sure of its freshness). Add egg to melted butter, add water, salt, pepper, stir with fork, holding pan over fire until egg is flakey but not stiff. _Kidneys and Bacon_ Split the kidneys, cut the bacon slices in two, scrape and sharpen a green wood stick 2 feet long and 1/2 inch in diameter at the smaller end. Put onto the stick alternately the pieces of bacon and kidney, hold over the fire, turning constantly for 5 minutes. Half a kidney and one piece of bacon between a split hot roll makes a delicious sandwich. _Komac Stew_ For 4 persons 4 large tomatoes, or one small can of same 3 eggs 2 good-sized onions Green pepper Butter size of walnut Salt, pepper Bread or crackers Heat the frying pan hot, melt butter in it; peel and slice thin onions and fry them for a few moments in the hot fat; add the well-washed green pepper cut fine; fry. Peel the tomatoes, cut in pieces, add to the onions and pepper, add salt and dash of pepper; cover, stew slowly 1/2 hour. Add one by one the eggs, stirring them in well. Serve at once on toast or crackers. _Macaroni with Cheese and Tomato Sauce_ Cook slowly for 2 or 3 hours, keeping covered. Drop into 3 quarts boiling salted water 1/2 lb. of macaroni or spaghetti broken into 4-inch lengths; stir occasionally with a fork to keep from sticking. Boil 3/4 of an hour, pour through a colander, drain off all hot water, pour cold water over macaroni, while in colander, return it to the kettle it was cooked in. Pour tomato sauce over it and when hot, serve. Have ready 1/2 lb. cheese grated fine; put it on top of the macaroni. Campbell's tomato soup, to which has been added chopped onions and a chopped pepper, salt and a pinch of soda, makes a very good tomato sauce and can be prepared in a short time or: Brown three thinly sliced onions in butter the size of an egg. Add 1 small can of tomatoes 1 green pepper chopped fine 1 large spoonful of salt 2 cloves Dash of cayenne Big dash of paprika _Sardines and Tomato Sauce_ For 4 persons 1 can Campbell's soup heated to boiling point in a frying pan. Very carefully so as not to break them, lay sardines from one box in the sauce. When hot serve on squares of toast or on crackers. A little dash of red pepper and a bit of salt improve the taste. _Stew, Irish_ For 4 persons 1 lb. of lamb for stew 3 onions 3 carrots 2 large potatoes Salt and pepper Water Cut the meat in small pieces, wash it; peel and slice the onions, scrape the carrots and slice crosswise; wash, peel and slice potatoes; place all in the kettle, cover with cold water, add 2 teaspoonfuls of salt and a dash of pepper; cover and cook slowly 2 hours; 3 hours is better, but not necessary. Be sure and cook the stew in a kettle large enough to allow room for cooking the dumplings on top of the stew. _Salads_ _Cucumbers_ Should be green, dark, firm, not too large around, but long and slender. Keep in the ice box. When ready to use, peel with a sharp knife from the blossom end down to the stem end. The reason for this is that the stem has in it a bitter flavor which, if drawn over the cucumber, spoils the taste. After peeling slice very, very thin, and cover with iced water, stand in a cold place. Just before serving, drain off the water and pour a French dressing over them. _Lettuce_ All salads should be picked apart, wilted or yellow leaves removed, thoroughly washed in cold water, the water shaken from the leaves, and placed in a cheese cloth or a knitted bag and laid on the ice. Salads will keep for several days if prepared in this way. It is necessary, however, to look it over every day and take out any leaves which begin to look wilted or to have yellow edges. _Tomato Salad_ Tomatoes should be peeled with a very sharp knife; or, when there is time, by pouring boiling water over them and gently rubbing off skins, and setting on the ice to cool. Wash and slice not too thin, serve with dressing. _Sauces and Dressings_ _Cream Sauce_ If cream sauce is to be made in small quantities, the butter should be melted, the flour added, the two rubbed into a smooth paste, the milk added slowly while the pan is on the fire. Season with salt, stir constantly so that no lumps will form. As it is difficult to make large quantities of cream sauce in this manner, it may be necessary to heat the milk in a double boiler and thicken to the consistency of rich cream with flour and butter rubbed to a smooth paste. Cook for fifteen minutes, salt to taste. For 4 or 5 persons use butter size of an egg, 1 tablespoonful flour, and 1-1/2 cups milk. Cream sauce is used with carrots, codfish, potatoes, cabbage, dried beef, etc. _Boiled Salad Dressing_ For 8 persons Mix together: 2 even teaspoonfuls mustard (dry) 1 even teaspoonful salt Butter size of an egg Yolk 1 egg Add: 2/3 cup cold milk and bring to a boil stirring constantly; add 1/4 cup of vinegar into which is rubbed 1 teaspoonful of corn-starch; boil until thick and smooth. _French Dressing_ Put into a bowl 1 teaspoonful of salt, add 1 teaspoonful of vinegar, mix well. Add 1/2 teaspoonful of prepared mustard, a dash of paprika, dash of pepper and 1/2 cup of olive oil. Beat thoroughly; if possible, add a small piece of ice which will make the dressing thick and smooth. Pour over the salad to be served and serve at once. _Tomato Sauce_ To one No. 10 can of tomatoes, brought to the boiling point, add three chopped green peppers, making sure no seeds are used, and seven or eight large onions sliced thin, both having been browned with a little fat in a spider. Add salt (scant tablespoonful) and a scant tablespoonful of sugar, a pinch of soda to counteract the acid and cook very slowly for three hours. This sauce can be used with macaroni, spaghetti or rice, or served with fish or baked beans as a vegetable, the long cooking making it thick. _Soups_ _Potato and Onion Soup_ Peel and slice thin 1 potato and 1 onion. Put in a kettle and cover with cold water. Boil for 1/2 hour. Add milk, salt and a dash of pepper, a little chopped parsley and green pepper. _Steero Bouillon_ One cube of Steero placed in a cup. Fill the cup with hot water, stir until dissolved, add salt. Instead of water, the liquid from a can of tomatoes could be used. _Vegetables_ _Beets._ For 3 persons--1 bunch or 5 beets. Wash with a brush, cut off the tops leaving at least 1 inch of stems on the beet. Do not cut the roots. Drop into boiling water and cook for 1-1/2 hours. Drain off all water, slip off the skins which come off very easily. If too hot to handle, pour cold water over the beets. Slice crosswise, add butter and salt and serve. Beet tops, if young, can be used as greens. _Cabbage, Boiled_ Remove outer leaves, cut in quarters, shave, not using the hard center, drop into boiling salted water, enough to cover the cabbage and boil hard for one hour. Drain, add a piece of butter and serve. _Carrots, Creamed_ 1 bunch or 5 carrots for 4 or 6 persons. New carrots are sold with the tops on. They should not be withered nor dry. Loose carrots are sold by the quantity and are less expensive. Cut off the tops, wash and scrape, cut in slices crosswise, cook in salted boiling water 1/2 hour. Drain off the water, pour cream sauce over carrots and serve. _Corn, Boiled_ Husk it, remove all silk, cut off the butt close to the ear, cook in boiling salted water for about fifteen minutes, if there is a small quantity; longer if there is a great deal. _Corn, Roasted_ Dip the ear of corn, husk and all, in cold water; bury in hot coals under a fire, roast for 20 minutes. _Onions_ Peel, boil in salted water two hours, drain, season, serve. Or slice raw into a buttered dish, season, add a small quantity of water, cover and bake three hours. _Peas_ 2 quarts for 4 persons Shell, drop into boiling water not salted. Boil for 25 minutes. Fresh peas are very green and have a sweet taste; the pods are green and tender and should look full and fat. _Potatoes_ _Baked_ Wash thoroughly large potatoes; (and if there is a large quantity, put in a big pan as they are more easily handled), and bake in a hot oven from one to one and one-half hours, according to size, and temperature of the oven. _Boiled_ In preparing a large quantity of potatoes, it takes too much time to scrape them, and to peel them is wasteful. In camp it is far better, if they are to be served plain boiled, to wash and scrub them thoroughly, and peel only a narrow strip around the center. Potatoes should be covered with boiling, salted water, cooked until tender, the water drained off, and allowed to remain in the kettle on the back of the stove for a few minutes to thoroughly dry out before serving. Put the largest potatoes into the pot first. _Escalloped_ Peel and slice raw; place in layers in a buttered pan or dish with butter and salt between the layers. Cover with milk (the dish should be covered also); place in a slow oven for three hours; uncover the dish for the last fifteen minutes of the time. _Lyonnaise_ Melt a piece of butter the size of an egg in a frying pan. Add two onions sliced thin and two good-sized cold potatoes sliced; cover, cook slowly stirring with a fork occasionally. Serve when brown. _Spinach_ Pick over, reject the leaves that are yellow, wilted, or very coarse; wash thoroughly in several waters, drain, cut off the roots; put in a boiler with just enough water to keep from sticking, cover tight turning occasionally with a long fork. Cook for about an hour. When tender drain off all water, chop with a knife, season and serve. For a garnish use hard-boiled eggs, sliced. _Squash_ Large, yellow squashes should be cut in two, and the seeds removed. Place in pan and roast in a hot oven. When tender remove the brown skin that has been formed on top of the squash, add butter and salt and place the halves on a platter to serve. Or the squash can be scooped out of the shell, seasoned and served from a dish. _String Beans_ Buy only those that are crisp and green or crisp and yellow. The latter are called wax beans. Both kinds should be young, that is, having only beans of small size in them. Remove all strings by taking the stem end in the thumb and fore finger, break off near the end and take off with it the string on one side of the bean. Do the same thing at the other end of the bean. Break the bean once or twice, according to size, or split the entire length with a sharp knife. Wash and drop into boiling salted water. Boil for 1-1/2 hours. _Scalloped Tomato_ Butter a dish or pan, put in it alternate layers of tomatoes and bread cut in dice. The thick part of a can of tomatoes or sliced raw tomatoes can be used. Put pieces of butter on top of the bread crumbs, salt, sprinkle sugar on top, put a layer of bread crumbs over all, cover, and bake in a hot oven three-quarters of an hour. Save the tomato liquid (if canned tomatoes are used) for soup or sauce. Do not allow it to stay in the tin. _Stewed Tomatoes_ Add a pinch of soda and simmer for an hour or more; season with salt, butter and a little sugar. Bread cut in very small squares can be added to thicken the tomato. _Tomato and Rice_ To one quart can of tomatoes add a teaspoonful of salt, a teaspoonful of sugar, soda the size of a pea, and one tablespoonful of raw rice well washed. Bake for three hours in a deep dish, stirring occasionally with a fork. Serve as a vegetable. It is particularly nice with beef. MENUS SUITABLE FOR OVERNIGHT HIKES _Breakfast_ Fruit Scrambled Eggs Toast Cocoa Fruit Cereal Bacon Biscuits Cocoa Fruit Bacon Griddle Cakes Cocoa Cereal Cocoa Toast Jam _Lunch_ (To be eaten en route) Sandwiches: Peanut Butter Bread and Butter Cheese Jam or Jelly Sweet Chocolate Raisins Fruit _Supper_ Komac Stew Green Corn Bread and butter Raisins Sweet chocolate Steero bouillon Cheese and eggs Raw tomatoes Biscuit and jam Irish stew with dumplings Bread and butter Baked apples Milk (if obtainable from nearby farm) Baked beans (canned) Brown bread Berry or Apple slump Milk Lamb kidneys Bacon Bread and butter Apple cake Cocoa Sardines and tomato sauce (Campbell's tomato soup) Toast Boiled rice and syrup Onion and potato chowder Uneeda biscuits Toast, cheese and jam Shrivelled beef Fried potatoes Biscuit and cocoa _Note._--Hikers should drink very little water while hiking. This rule should be adhered to absolutely. XIII A DAY IN CAMP The day is clear, the sun casts long shadows as it rises back of the woods, all is still, when suddenly a long whistle blast is heard followed by the bugle call, "You can't get 'um up, you can't get 'um up, you can't get 'um up in the morning," and an immediate babble of voices. Out of every tent comes tumbling weird looking figures in bathrobes, pajamas, sweaters and bloomers, tousled heads and half-clad feet. A line-up on the drill field, and setting-up exercises begin under the direction of the game counsellor or physical director. Ten minutes of work and then a mad rush for tents, wash basins, and the wash house, laughter and joking, dressing and hair brushing, and four whistles sound. Housekeepers, housekeepers, housekeepers, come! There they go carrying in the lanterns that have hung on the the lamp posts--trees in this case--all night. Are your tables ready? Get the bread, the butter, the milk, and so on and so forth. The Director appears, a sign that it is time for morning colors. The Color Guard, five girls from one tent, all in Scout uniform, "fall in," the bugler joins them, assembly sounds and everyone but the housekeepers line up on the field. "Right dress, Front," and the Color Guard, bearing the flag marches to the flag pole as the Colors are hoisted and the bugler plays "To Colors." All pledge allegiance to the flag, sing the Star Spangled Banner. The Guard leaves the field and with a "Right Face, Forward March," all file in to breakfast. There are always announcements to be made, some questions to be asked, and after the meal is over, or just before classes, is a good time to do this. [Illustration: "SPECIAL DELIVERY." CAMP POST OFFICE.] Inspection follows--all too soon for some. Tents must be in order, grounds around them clean, trash boxes emptied, and each girl in her tent, the chosen leader of the group, called the Patrol Leader, Court of Honor, or Orderly, at the door. The Director hears a murmur, "Here she comes, here she comes"; then all is still. A salute, a thorough look at grounds around, trash box, basins, cots, a look into a blanket or two for fear that hurry has caused some mistakes, and sometimes a look into dress suitcases, for cleanliness, and order must begin on the inside, a word of commendation, a suggestion for improvement and possibly a reprimand, follow. The bugler announces the time for classes, each group whether far or near changing from one class to another, until the noon hour brings a free period to all. The signalling class is under the trees back of the mess hall, the First Aid group in a shady spot on the edge of the woods, the basketry class near their base of supplies but sitting on the grass in the shade, the nature lovers in the woods to find new birds and ferns and flowers--and so it goes. During the working hours, the housekeepers have been busy performing all kinds of necessary camp work. Some Scouts enjoy all of it, others none of it, but rarely does anyone fail to do her part. Dinner is served, the Scouts marching in to the mess hall, as they do for all meals, and being excused when all have finished. Much talking and laughter, but orderliness and courtesy, with an occasional sigh when something does not please, or a prolonged "ah" when it does, make the time and all there is to eat disappear in what seems a short time. Dinner is followed by rest hour, always difficult for some temperaments, but a real necessity in camp. Sometimes it is necessary to discipline in order to have quiet, or have counsellors on duty near the tents to insure rest. Whatever can be done to make the Scouts realize the importance of obeying this rule, should be done. Nothing is more looked forward to than the distribution of the mail unless it is the Canteen. A whistle call and all tent representatives fairly fly to the post office window, and eagerly listen for the names of their tent mates. Which group has the most mail--are there any packages? Letter reading, letter writing, reading, mending, laundry work, fill the time until the afternoon classes begin. At five-thirty when the call for supper is sounded the Color Guard "fall in" and while all Scouts stand in Company formation at attention the Colors are slowly lowered. The Color Guard is changed every day, each Guard representing a different tent. After supper, canteen is opened. Perhaps a table out of doors is used as a counter, or one in the mess hall if it does not interfere with housework. Three or four Scouts assist the counsellor who has charge of the canteen and all the goodies on sale for that day are arranged in tempting fashion before the very eyes of the waiting group. There are so many things to do after supper that each Scout is given the privilege of making her own choice, and can join a group for a row, or a walk, a game of ball or a sing, but all must be back in time for the camp fire, and goodnight songs, First Call, Taps, and evening inspection, and last to make sure that all Scouts are safe and happy and all tents in proper condition, flaps back and sides up when possible. This closes one day. Others like it may follow, but as a rule no two days are alike. Hikes, visitors, storms, comings and goings, all vary the schedule tremendously, but all are needed to teach us how to camp. _Life is sweet, brother, ... There's day and night, brother, both sweet things; sun, moon, and stars, all sweet things; there's likewise a wind on the heath._ --_Lavengro_ SOME BOOKS ON CAMPS AND CAMPING ATHLETIC GAMES FOR WOMEN, Dudley and Keller. BACKWOODS SURGERY AND MEDICINE, Chas. S. Moody, Outing Publishing Co. CAMPING AND OUTING ACTIVITIES, Cheley-Baker; Games, songs, pageants, plays, water sports, etc., $1.50. CAMP COOKERY, M. Parloa. CAMPCRAFT, Warren H. Miller. CAMPING AND WOODCRAFT, Vols. I and II, Horace Kephart, Macmillan Co. CAMP KITS AND CAMP LIFE, Charles Stedman Hanks. CAMPING OUT, Warren H. Miller, Geo. Doran Co. CARAVANING AND CAMPING-OUT, J. Harris Stone, Herbert Jenkins, Ltd., 12 Arundel Place, London. FESTIVALS AND PLAYS, Percival Chubb. FOLK SONGS, CHANTEY SONGS AND SINGING GAMES, Farnsworth and Sharp. FOUL PLAY, Charles Reade. GAMES AND DANCES, William A. Stecher. GAMES FOR THE PLAYGROUND, HOME, SCHOOL AND GYMNASIUM, Jessie Bancroft HARPER'S CAMPING AND SCOUTING, Joseph Adams, Harper Bros. MANUAL FOR ARMY COOKS, Military Pub. Co., 42 Broadway, New York City. ON THE TRAIL, L. Beard, Scribner. PRACTICAL HINTS ON CAMPING, Howard Henderson. SHELTERS, SHACKS AND SHANTIES, D. C. Beard. SUMMER IN A GIRLS' CAMP, Anna Worthington Coale, Century. SWIMMING AND WATERMANSHIP, L. DeB. Handley, Macmillan Co. THE BOOK OF WOODCRAFT, Ernest Thompson-Seton. THE BOY'S CAMP BOOK, Edward Cave. THE BOYS' CAMP MANUAL, Charles K. Taylor. THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' VACATION BOOK, Camp Fire Girls, New York City. THE FIELD AND FOREST HANDY BOOK, D. C. Beard. TOURING AFOOT, Dr. C. P. Fordyce, New York Outing Pub. Co. WILDERNESS HOMES, Oliver Kamp, Outing Pub. Co. VACATION CAMPS FOR GIRLS, Jeannette Marks, D. Appleton Co. ONE-ACT PLAYS (SMALL CAST) MISS CIVILIZATION, Richard Harding Davis POT O' BROTH, William Butler Yeats SOCIAL GAMES AND GROUP DANCES, T. C. Elson and Blanche Trilling. THE MAKER OF DREAMS, Oliphant Doun. THE TRAVELING MAN, Lady Gregory. THE WORKHOUSE WARD, Lady Gregory. PAGEANTS AND MASQUES. THE BIRD MASQUE, Percy MacKaye. _For Special References on_: First Aid, Cooking, Nature Study, Astronomy, Home Nursing and other Scout Activities, see references in section of Proficiency Tests in "Scouting for Girls," the official handbook of the Girl Scouts. [Illustration: THE VICTORIOUS NINE] GIRL SCOUT PUBLICATIONS SCOUTING FOR GIRLS. Official Handbook of the Girl Scouts. 572 pages, profuse illustrations. Bibliography. Khaki cloth cover, flexible, $0.75; Officers' Edition, board, $1.00. CAMPWARD HO! Manual for Girl Scout Camps. 192 pages. Illustrations. Bibliography, cuts and diagrams. Cloth, $1.25. THE BLUE BOOK OF RULES FOR GIRL SCOUT CAPTAINS. 32 pages. All official regulations, constitution, etc., $0.25. A TRAINING COURSE FOR GIRL SCOUT CAPTAINS. Outline approved by National Headquarters. Lectures and practical lessons. $0.15. THE GIRL SCOUT'S HEALTH RECORD. A convenient form for recording the points needed to cover for badge of "Health Winner." $0.10. GIRL SCOUTS: THEIR HISTORY AND PRACTICE. Pamphlet, 2 cents. GIRL SCOUTS: THEIR WORKS, WAYS AND PLAYS. Pamphlet, 2 cents. YOUR GIRL AND MINE, by Josephine Daskam Bacon. 2 cents. WHY I BELIEVE IN SCOUTING FOR GIRLS, by Mary Roberts Rinehart. 2 cents. THE GIRL SCOUTS. A Training School for Womanhood, by Kate Douglas Wiggin. 2 cents. THE CONSTITUTION AND BY-LAWS OF THE GIRL SCOUTS, INCORPORATED. 5 cents. THE AMERICAN GIRL. (Formerly The Rally). A Scouting Magazine for all girls. Monthly. 15 cents the copy, $1.50 the year. IN PREPARATION GIRL SCOUT OFFICERS' MANUAL. For Captains, Lieutenants, Commissioners and Councillors. BRIEF TRAINING COURSE FOR GIRL SCOUT CAPTAINS. 10 lessons. GIRL SCOUT OFFICERS' FIELD BOOK. A notebook with all necessary material for troop work, including much Manual information in loose leaf form. SENIOR SCOUT PROGRAM. BROWNIE OR JUNIOR PROGRAM. GIRL SCOUT AWARDS. Requirements for Proficiency and Class Badges, and all special medals. OUTLINES OF LECTURES ON SEX HYGIENE, in collaboration with the United States Bureau of the Public Health Service. STUDIES IN APPLIED PSYCHOLOGY AND ANTHROPOLOGY, in collaboration with the American Museum of Natural History. A GIRL SCOUT BOOK SHELF, in collaboration with the New York Public Library. GIRL SCOUTS INCORPORATED National Headquarters 189 Lexington Ave., New York City The Girl Scouts, a National Organization, is open to any girl who expresses her desire to join and voluntarily accepts the Promise and the Laws. The object of the Girl Scouts is to bring to all girls the opportunity for group experience, outdoor life and to learn through work, but more through play, to serve their community. OFFICERS, 1920 FOUNDER Mrs. Juliette Low HONORARY PRESIDENT Mrs. Woodrow Wilson FIRST VICE-PRESIDENT Mrs. James J. Storrow TREASURER Mrs. Nicholas F. Brady COUNSEL Douglas Campbell PRESIDENT Mrs. Arthur O. Choate SECOND VICE-PRESIDENT Mrs. Herbert Hoover CHAIRMAN, EXECUTIVE BOARD Mrs. V. Everit Macy DIRECTOR Mrs. Jane Deeter Rippen EXECUTIVE BOARD Mrs. Selden Bacon Mrs. Nicholas F. Brady Miss Ellen M. Cassatt Mrs. Arthur O. Choate Francis P. Dodge Miss Emma R. Hall Mrs. Juliette Low Mrs. V. Everit Macy Mrs. William McAdoo Mrs. Robert G. Mead Miss Llewellyn Parsons Mrs. Harold Irving Pratt Mrs. Theodore H. Price Mrs. W. N. Rothschild Mrs. George W. Stevens Mrs. James J. Storrow Mrs. Charles Welch Mrs. Percy H. Williams PERMANENT COMMITTEES EDUCATION _Chairman_ Miss Sarah Louise Arnold _Secretary_ Dr. Louise Stevens Bryant PUBLICATION _Chairman_ Mrs. Josephine Daskam Bacon _Secretary_ Dr. Louise Stevens Bryant FIELD _Chairman_ Mrs. Robert G. Mead _Secretary_ Miss Mary C. Clendenin STANDARDS _Chairman_ Miss Llewellyn Parsons _Secretary_ Miss Mary C. Clendenin BUSINESS _Chairman_ Mrs. Percy Williams _Secretary_ Mr. Sidney Monroe MacDowell FINANCE _Chairman_ Mrs. Nicholas F. Brady ADVISORY COMMITTEE ON BUSINESS AND FINANCE _Chairman_ Mr. Frederic W. Allen INDEX A Achievements 125, chart record for, 126 A Day in Camp 174ff American Red Cross 92 Apple cake 163, slump, 113 Apples, fried 163 Application form 56 Around the Campfire 137 "A Slack Rag of Canvas" 18 B Bacon 164 Basins 67 Basketry 55 Bath houses 83 Bathing place 85 Bathing suits 82ff Beans, baked 164 Bedding 76 Beds 64ff Beef, shriveled 165 Before the Campfire is Lighted 103 Beets 169 Beginners in swimming 85 "Be Prepared", the Signalling Class 125 "Between Wood and Field" 10 Biscuit 161 Blankets 48, 64, 65, 130 Board rate 62 Boats and boating 79ff, 83, 102 Boiled salad dressing 168 Books on Camps and Camping 178ff Bread Line, the 58 Breads 161 Bryant, Louise Stevens 7 Builders, the--House Built by Girl Scouts 118 Buoys 87 "Business End of Camp Hall" 29 "By the Shining Big Sea Water" 25 Byron, Lord 9 C Cabbage 169 Cabins, of wood, canvas 37 Camp Budget 58ff All other 60 Boats 60 Canteen 60 Cartage 60 Casual labor 60 Equipment 59 Motor upkeep 60 Opening and closing 60 Printing 60 Rental or purchase price of land 59 Salaries 60 Stamps 60 Storage 60 Telephone 60 Transportation 59 Wages 60 Camp canteen 54 Camp closing 47 Camp Directors and Counsellors 15ff Camper, the 22ff Campfires 121, 131ff; to build in rain 134 Camp foods 160 Camp, for single Scout troop 33 Camp house, the 28ff Camp Health and Camp Safety 140ff Camp implements 69 Camp Living Room 27 Camp log 55 Camp Menus and Recipes 157ff Camp Post Office 175 Camp Program 93ff Camp Records and Accounts 50ff Camp Regulations 39 Camp Sanitation 140 Camp sings 113ff Camp songs 114ff Candles 71 Candy 76 Canoes 87, 122ff Canteen 76ff Canteen record 53 Carrots 170 Cereals 161 Chaucer 51 Cheese and eggs 165 Cheese cloth 73 Cleaning squad 65 Closing Camp 47 Clove Hitch 42 Cocoa 112 Codfish, creamed 165 "Colorado, In high and dry" 20 Cooking utensils, for campers 133 Corn 170 Cornmeal 161 Counsellors, camp 15ff Crafts and occupations 108 Cream sauce 168 Crew for Life Saving Corps 87 Crib 79ff Cucumbers 167 D Daily program for Girl Scout camp 97 Dancing 106ff Deschutes River Fishing Trip 135ff Desserts 163ff Directors, camp 15ff Dishes, washing 45, for kitchen 67ff Disinfectants for latrines, for garbage pits 143 Dives 100ff Donations 57 Double boiler 72 Dried fruit 163 Dumplings 162 E Eats 80 Eggs 165 Entertainments and diversions 112ff Equipment for: boating 79ff general 64ff personal 74ff swimming 79 waterfront protection 85 F Feeding the Multitude 152 Field Day Program 55 Fire extinguishers 42 Fires, out door 29 Fireplace 34 Fire prevention 149 First Aides: Several Kinds of bandages 131 First Aid, essential supplies 148 house 151 Food, for hiking 129 Foreword 7 Flatware for table 68 Float 83 Floor Plan for Mess Hall 35 Floor, tent with 32, without 20, 33 Flowers 74 French dressing 168 Furnishings 69ff G Games 72, 105ff Garbage, disposal of 134, trench for 142ff General Camp Activities 98ff General routine from opening to closing camp 40ff "Girl Scout Hayseeds and the Stack they Made" 139 Girl Scouts' Laws and Promise 6 "Good Morrow, Lord Sun" 90 Goodnight story 88 Grappling irons 87 H Handbook of Girl Scouts 7, 93, 112, 179, 180 Handcrafts 108 Health Certificate 51ff Health Winner, the, in camp 149ff Hikes, 127ff; daytime 127, week end 128, overnight 130 Horseback riding 107 Housekeeping squad 94 Housekeeping outdoors 43ff I Ice box 36ff Identification tag 57 Implements 69 Indian pudding 164 Individual account card 57 Insurance 49 K Keeping of records 55ff Kidney and bacon 166 Kitchen 28ff, 34 Kitchen furnishings 69ff Kitchen stove 49 Komac stew 166 L Lamps 67 Land drill 71, 80 Lanterns 48, 70ff Latrines, making, care of 145ff Lavengro 177 Laws, of Girl Scouts 6 Laying the fire 86 Lean-tos 33, 105, 110, 112 "Lean-to Going Up" 110 Lettuce 167 Lice (head) to remove 150 Life boats 86ff Life Saving Corps 85 Red Cross, Women's 85 Lighting 70ff Linen 72 Location 13ff Log houses 34ff M Macaroni, with cheese and tomato 166 Making camp on overnight hike 78 Master of Aquatics 85ff McClure, Emily 7 Meats, fish and meat substitutes 164ff Menus for overnight hike 173 Mess Hall, tent 23, floor plan for 35 Mills, Captain Fred C., 7, 85 Miscellaneous records 55 Monarchs of all they Survey 92 Morale, camp 22ff Motto, Girl Scout 6 N Nearly Finished 122 Newspapers 73ff O Oatmeal 162 Oil heater, Standard 36 Onions 170 "Over the Top" 141 P Packages for Scouts 77 Pack for hiking 129 Peas 170 Personality 19 Personal Equipment 74 Personnel, of Life Saving Corps 88 Pests 143 Petty cash record 53 Physical examination of Girl Scout 49 Pillows 48, 67, cases 72 Pitching tents 40ff Planning Committee 11ff Planning for camp 9ff Plays, for use in camp 178 Play, place in program 93 Potatoes 170ff Program for housekeeping squad 95 Program, camp 93ff Promise, Girl Scout 6 Provisions, 47ff, care of 154 Provisioning 152 Publications of Girl Scouts 180 R Recipes 161ff Record of provisions 53ff Record tag 50 Red Cross Life Saving Corps 85 Regulations for Camp 39 Religious Policy 16ff Rice pudding 164 Ring buoys 87 Row boats 87 Rowing 75 Rules for swimming 91 S Salads 167ff Sardines and tomato sauce 167 Sauces and dressings 168ff Scalloped tomatoes 172 "Scouting for Girls" 7 Scout Laws 6, 94 Scout Promise 6, 94 Scrambled eggs 165 Scrubbing up Before Meals 48 Serving table 41 Setting out for the water hike 84 Sheets 72 Shoes, for hiking 128 Site 14ff Slab House 33 Slogan, Girl Scout 6 Soups 169 Special Delivery 175 Spinach 171 Sports 99 Squad, housekeeping 94ff Squash 171 Stew, Irish 167 Store closet 36 Stove 69ff String beans 171 Suits, bathing 82 Sun Clock 94 Sunday dinner 22 Supervision of bathing 91ff Swimmers, equipment for 82ff, 85ff Swimming crib 69, 79ff, 81 Swimming strokes 100 Swimming test 90 T Table manners 46 Tag for Scouts arriving in camp 38 Team Work In Potato Paring 44 "Tent Green" 12 Tents 28ff chart for 50ff conical 12, 30 floors 16, 32 mess 28, 58 pitching 32, 40 pyramidal 30 size 30ff taking down 47 wall 10, 18, 30ff without floors 33 The Morning After 82 The Town Pump 46 Toast 162 Toilet accessories 76 To Keep the Home Fires Burning 133 Tomatoes 172ff salad 168 sauce 169 Top of the Morning 100 Tower, for bathing 86 Training, life saving 89 Transportation 12ff Trash, disposition of 72, 140ff Twin Lake Council Application Form 56 U "Under the Greenwood Tree" 2 Underwear 76 V Vegetables 69ff Victorious Nine 179 Volley ball 146 W Wall tent 18, 32 Wash house 37ff Washing dishes 45 Water front protection 85ff Water glasses 87 Water sports day, program for 104ff Water supply 144ff Weighing scales 72 Well built floors 16 Women's Life Saving Corps, American Red Cross 101 Woodcraft 109ff camp discipline 112 camp site 111 trail making 111 trip planning 111 Wood cutters 105 Wilkeson, Catherine 7 "Wise Virgins" 67 THE GIRL SCOUT SHOP [Illustration: Long Coat "The Combination Dress"] [Illustration: Shirt Waist and Bloomers] [Illustration: Short Coat and Skirt] SCOUT UNIFORMS AND EQUIPMENT Operating under National supervision the Girl Scout Supply Department carries a complete and attractive line of equipment for girls. It is the purpose of this branch to give the Scout her equipment at lowest possible cost. Official equipment is sold to members of Registered Troops on formal presentation by Scout of her voucher signed by her Captain. Price lists will be furnished upon application and money must be sent with order as the equipment is handled on a strictly cash basis. Owing to the irregularity of the market these prices will change from time to time but a revised price list will be printed every two months until the market is more stable. Sizes should be given when ordering uniforms; this applies also to hats and belts. Find out from jeweler size of ring needed. =Girl Scout National Supply Department= =189 Lexington Avenue= =New York City= Special Instructions for Ordering Equipment =Order Blanks= These will be furnished you free of charge upon application and are specially prepared forms which make ordering easy. Give your full name and address and if ordering from a local council be sure to give the name of your council and then your own name. =Scout Voucher= This is a form to be used by the individual Scout when purchasing equipment. It is the certification by the Captain that the Scout is entitled to buy equipment, and no equipment can be sold except on presentation of this voucher. =How to Obtain Correct Hat Size= A size 7 hat measures 21-5/8" in circumference inside, or the actual distance around the child's head. For each 3/8" in head size order hat 1/8 size larger. =Flag Orders= It requires at least 10 days after receipt of order to obtain flag from manufacturer. Be sure to write plainly the exact lettering you wish. =Prices of Girl Scout Troop Flags= =Size= =Material= =Price= =No. 1 22" x 36"= =Cotton and Wool= =$ 2.50= =No. 2 2-1/2 x 4 ft.= =Wool= =6.35= =No. 3 3' x 5'= " =7.35= =No. 4 4' x 6'= " =9.10= =No. 5 5' x 8'= " =10.65= =No. 6 6' x 10'= " =20.00= =LETTERING= =No. 1--10c per letter= =No. 2--13c= " " =No. 3--15c= " " =No. 4--16c= " " =No. 5--20c= " " =No. 6--25c= " " =STAFFS= =Plain--1/2" x 8ft--30c.= =Jointed 1" x 8 ft--With Eagle for American Flag,= =$4.90= =Jointed 1" x 8 ft., With Solid Spear for Troop Flag,= =$3.20= =Girl Scout National Supply Department= =189 Lexington Avenue= =New York City= [Illustration] What Do You Read? If You are a Girl Scout You Read--and Need =THE AMERICAN GIRL= =A Magazine for Girl Scouts and Girls who Love Scouting= _=It Contains The Only=_ Up-to-date account of Girl Scout doings. You can read of Scout camps in the North, scout parties in the South, scout mountain climbing expeditions in the West, and scout hikes in the East. These are all described delightfully by the scouts themselves. _=As For The Stories=_ They are carefully selected with an eye to real fun and excitement. "Regular girls" like "regular stories." The American Girl remembers that and has one or more good ones every month. _=And That Isn't All=_ Every month there is a page of foreign scout news. Did you know there were Girl Scouts in Czechoslovakia? Well there are, and you can read about them and also about the Girl Scouts in England, France, Italy and Belgium. _=There Are New Ideas, Too=_ That are likely to be just what you are looking for. The Party Page has a suggestion for a scout entertainment every month. And there are hundreds of hints to help you with your camping, hiking and other scout activities. =THE AMERICAN GIRL= _15 cents single copy; $1.50 per year_ =189 Lexington Ave.= =New York City= _=SCOUT FUN=_ -- _=SCOUT NEWS=_ -- _=SCOUT HELPS=_ [Illustration] LEFAX FACTS ON LEAVES (=Loose Leaf=) Lefax represents positively the last word in record-keeping. Here are found data sheets covering all of the important scientific branches, as well as sheets of general information. Lefax blank forms take care of your own notes and data. They are reasonable in price and cover every possible field. Lefax Monthly Magazine is printed Lefax size and is so arranged that any article may be instantly removed and incorporated in your records. The Lefax page is a convenient size, 6-3/4 x 3-3/4 inches. The Lefax Filing Index which appears on all sheets makes systematic filing easy. All the data sheets are also classified according to the Dewey-Decimal System. Full particulars will be gladly sent on request. =LEFAX, Inc., 9th and Sansom Streets, Philadelphia, Pa.= SERENO STETSON, Special Girl Scout Representative, _511 W., 113th Street, New York City_ =Note=--The Constitution and By-Laws of the Girl Scouts have been printed in the Lefax form. Have you seen this booklet? =Girl Scout Shoes= We make the accepted GIRL SCOUT SHOE--Broad Toe--Low Heel and Flexible. This shoe has also been approved by the National Board of the Y.W.C.A. Write us and we will see that you are supplied. PRESTON B. KEITH SHOE CO. BROCKTON, MASS. (Campello Station) Specialists in Scout Printing CLARK & FRITTS, INC. 229 WEST 28th STREET NEW YORK CITY Printers of the Girl Scouts Handbook, "Scouting for Girls" and the Official Organ of the Scouts, "The American Girl" SIGMUND-EISNER CO. RED BANK, N. J. [Illustration] OFFICIAL NATIONAL OUTFITTERS TO GIRL SCOUTS, Inc. TENTS, BLANKETS KITCHENWARE, ETC. At present the Girl Scout Shop cannot directly supply general camp equipment, but a list of firms handling approved forms of tents, sport goods, clothes, bedding and other furnishings will be sent upon request. * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Obvious punctuation errors repaired. As italic text is indicated by _underscores_, bold text is surrounded by =equal signs=. Page 9, Table of Contents, "182" changed to "183" because page 182 is blank and the index starts on 183. Page 16, word "to" added to text (personal feelings to one) Page 18, "in" changed to "is" (but this is unusual) Page 33, "n" changed to "in" (given in a later) Page 84, "epuipment" changed to "equipment" (approved equipment for camps) Page 107, repeated word "the" removed from text original read (the the supply is too limited) Page 115, "troooping" changed to "trooping" (The Scouts are trooping) Page 124, "cilivized" changed to "civilized" (live in a civilized town) Page 128, "consellor" changed to "counsellor" (should one counsellor assume) Page 163, "suace" changed to "sauce" (sauce. Blue berries, huckleberries) Page 164, "navvy" changed to "navy" (beans or navy beans) Page 168, "suace" changed to "sauce" (Cream sauce is used) Page 185, Index, "Scallopped" changed to "Scalloped" (Scalloped tomatoes) Page 186, Index, "Storecloset" changed to "Store closet" (Store closet) 
37800	----	produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) GIRL SCOUTS AT DANDELION CAMP By Lillian Elizabeth Roy Author of The Polly Brewster Books, The Little Washington Books Illustrated Grosset & Dunlap Publishers, New York Made in the United States of America Copyright 1921 by George Sully & Company CONTENTS CHAPTER ONE--THE DANDELION PATROL CHAPTER TWO--AN UNEXPECTED PROPOSITION CHAPTER THREE--THE OLD CAMPSITE CHAPTER FOUR--BEGINNING THEIR CAMP LIFE CHAPTER FIVE--RUTH MEETS WITH DIFFICULTIES CHAPTER SIX--FIRST LESSONS IN SCOUT WORK CHAPTER SEVEN--HEPSY JOINS THE SCOUTS' UNION CHAPTER EIGHT--SUNDAY VISITORS CHAPTER NINE--THE CABINET MAKERS CHAPTER TEN--A FOURTH OF JULY OUTING CHAPTER ELEVEN--IN BLUEBEARD'S CAVE CHAPTER TWELVE--AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE CHAPTER THIRTEEN--THE CAPTURE CHAPTER FOURTEEN--THE REWARD FOR COURAGE CHAPTER FIFTEEN--A FURNITURE SHOWER CHAPTER SIXTEEN--A VISIT TO GRANNY DUNSTAN'S CABIN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN--NEW MEMBERS CHAPTER EIGHTEEN--THE SCOUTS MEET JOHN DUNSTAN [Illustration: _Mrs. Vernon turned the flashlight over the ground about them (Frontispiece)_] GIRL SCOUTS AT DANDELION CAMP CHAPTER ONE THE DANDELION PATROL "Dear me, I never saw so many old dandelions in my life!" exclaimed Juliet Lee, as she tugged mightily at a stubborn root. "Seems to me there are ten new weeds ready to spring up the moment we pull an old one out," grumbled Ruth Bentley, standing up to straighten her aching back. "Forty-six for me! I'll soon have my hundred roots out for the day!" exulted Elizabeth Lee, Juliet's twin sister. As she spoke, she shook a clod of loose earth from a large dandelion root, and threw the forty-sixth plant into a basket standing beside her. "You handled that root exactly as an Indian would a scalp before he ties it to his belt," laughed Joan Allison, another girl in the group of four so busily at work weeding a vast expanse of lawn. "Oh, me! I don't b'lieve we _ever_ will earn enough money this way to pay our expenses in a Girls' Camp!" sighed Ruth, watching her companions work while she stood and complained. "Doesn't it seem foolish to waste these lovely summer days in weeding Mrs. Vernon's lawn, when we might be having glorious sport in a Girl Scouts' Troop?" "We'd never be admitted to a Patrol or Troop if we had to confess failure in pulling up little things like dandelions," ventured Elizabeth, without raising her eyes from her task. "There you go--preaching, as usual!" retorted Ruth. "Well, anyway, Mrs. Vernon said it wasn't so much what we did, or where we did it, as long as we always did the _best_ we could; so I'm trying my best on these unfriendly weeds," added Elizabeth, generally called Betty, for short. "Pooh! Mrs. Vernon is an old preacher, too, and you copy her in everything just because you haven't any mind of your own!" scorned Ruth, her face looking quite ugly for such a pretty girl. Juliet, known familiarly as Julie, glanced over at her sister to see if Ruth's rude words hurt. Seeing Betty as happy-faced as ever, she exchanged glances with Joan, who understood Ruth better than the girl understood herself. To change the trend of the conversation, Joan now asked: "Has any one thought of a name for our club?" "Yes, I proposed lots of them but Verny seemed to think they were meaningless. I suppose she prefers a Latin or Greek name," Ruth jeered. "Oh, not at all! She left it entirely to us to choose a name, but she thought we ought to select one that would fit," hastily explained Joan. "I've got one--guess what?" exclaimed Betty, sitting back, and hugging her knees as she smiled questioningly at her friends. The other girls puckered their brows and guessed all sorts of names, some so ridiculous that a merry chorus of laughter pealed across the glen; but finally, Betty held up a hand in warning and shouted: "Halt! Halt! if you keep on this way, we'll never finish the weeds." "Give up, then!" responded her companions. "Dandelion Troopy!" exulted Betty. "Troopy--why that 'y' at the end?" queried Joan. "'Cause we can't be a regular 'Troop,' you know, while we have only four members--Verny said the Scout Manual says so. As most infant ideas end with a 'y,' I suggest that we end that way." "Oh, Betty! I'm sure you don't want us to end there when we've but just begun," laughed Julie. Betty was about to explain her meaning when Ruth interrupted. "Good gracious! Haven't we had enough of dandelions in this horrid job without reminding us forever of the work by calling ourselves by that name?" "Well, I was thinking how pretty the name would look if Verny prints it on a board sign and paints yellow dandelions all about the words," explained Betty, in an apologetic tone. "It _would_ look nice," added Joan, picking up a blossom and studying it carefully. "You know dandelions really are lovely! And they smell sweet, too. But they grow so freely, everywhere, that folks think they are weeds. Now they'd be considered wonderful if they were hard to cultivate," said Betty, seriously. "I fail to see beauty in the old things!" scorned Ruth. "You fail to see beauty in lots of things, Ruth, and that's where you lose the best part of living," said a sweet voice from the pathway that skirted the lawn. "Oh, Verny! When did you get back?" cried three of the girls. Ruth turned away her face and curled her lips rebelliously. "Oh, some time ago, but I went indoors to see if the banker had his money ready for my scouts," replied Mrs. Vernon, paying no attention to Ruth's attitude. "We were just talking of a name, Verny, and Betsy said she thought the name of 'Dandelion' was so appropriate," explained Joan. "Betty thought a signboard with the name and a wreath of the flowers painted on it would be awfully sweet," added Julie, eagerly. "And I say 'Toad-stool Camp' with a lot of fungus plants painted about it would be more appropriate for this Troop's name!" sneered Ruth, wheeling around to face Mrs. Vernon. "We're sick of the sight of dandelions." Understanding Ruth's shortcomings so well, the girls paid no attention to this remark, but Mrs. Vernon said: "I came out to see if you were almost through with to-day's work." "Seems as if we were awfully slow this afternoon, Verny, but we'll dig all the faster now for having you here to boss us," said Julie. "It's all because I stopped them to talk about a name," admitted Betty. "Well, we were glad of the recess," laughed Joan. "Come, come, then--let's make up for lost time!" called Julie, falling to with a zeal never before demonstrated by her. The other girls turned and also began digging furiously, in order to complete the number of roots they were supposed to sell at one time. Not a word was spoken for a few moments, but Ruth groaned about her backache, and sat up every few seconds to look at her dirt-smeared fingernails. Mrs. Vernon had to hide a smile and when she could control her voice, said: "I'll be going back to Vernon's Bank, girls, but as soon as you are ready to cash in for the roots, go to the side porch. Then wash up in the lavatory and meet me on the front verandah, where we'll have something cool to drink for such warm laborers." "Um-m! I know what! You always do treat us the best!" cried Joan. "With such an incentive before us, I shouldn't wonder but we'll be there before you are ready," added Julie, smacking her lips. Mrs. Vernon laughed, then walked back to the house, and the girls dug and dug, without wasting any more time to grumble or talk. Even Ruth forgot her annoyances in the anticipation of having something good to eat and a cooling drink the moment she was through with her hundred weeds. As usual, Betty completed her task before any of her companions, and Ruth said querulously: "I don't see how you ever do it! Here I've worked as hard as any one but I only have sixty roots." "I'll help you finish up so's we can get to the house," Betty offered generously. And Ruth accepted her help without thinking to thank her. "I know why Ruth always falls behind," commented Joan. "Betty may be a 'prude' and a 'preacher' in Ruth's eyes, but she sure does persist in anything. I haven't heard her complain of, or shirk, a single thing since we began this Scout plan. Ruth sits and worries over everything before it happens, so she really makes her work hard from the moment she ever starts it." "That's good logic, Joan," returned Julie. "Besides all that, I have watched Betty work, and she seems to _like_ it! Haven't you ever noticed how fast and well you can do anything that you love to do?" "You don't suppose I _love_ to root out dandelions, do you?" demanded Betty, laughingly. "Not exactly, but you try to see all the good points in them and that makes you overlook the horrid things," said Julie. "Well, I wish Betty would show me the good points in a pan of potatoes," said Joan. "I have to peel the 'taters every day, and _I hate it!_ Many a time I have tried to fool myself into believing I like them--but I just can't!" The girls laughed heartily, and Julie added: "Next time you have to peel them, begin to sing or speak a piece--that works like magic, because it turns your thoughts to other things." "There now! Ruth's hundred are ready, too!" said Betty, tossing the last few roots into the basket. Mr. Vernon was paymaster, and always contrived to have bright new coins on hand with which to pay his laborers. To-day he counted out the correct wage for each girl, and then said: "That lawn must be almost cleaned up, eh?" "Oh, Mr. Vernon! It's most discouraging!" cried Ruth. "Yes--why?" asked Mr. Vernon, quizzically. "Because we root out a place one day, and the next the young ones sprout up again." "That looks as if you girls may bankrupt me before this contract is completed, eh?" laughed he. "Come, girls! Don't waste your time in there with Uncle Verny when you might be sipping cool lemonade out here!" called Mrs. Vernon from the front of the house. So the four girls hastily washed away all signs of earth from hands and faces, and joined their "Captain" on the verandah. Here they found waiting great wicker easy-chairs, and a table spread with goodies. In a few moments unpleasant work and dandelions were forgotten in the delectable pastime of eating fresh cake and drinking lemonade. "What do _you_ think of the name 'Dandelion Troop,' Verny?" asked Julie, when the first attack on the cake had subsided. "I think it is most appropriate at present, but how will you feel about that name next year--or the next?" "Now that's what I say! We'll grow so tired of it," added Ruth. "But we don't think so!" argued Julie. "Besides, we ought never to weary of the humble things that really start us in life. If dandelions mean our start to a real Scout Troop, we ought to be grateful and honor the weed," giggled Joan. Then an animated discussion followed between the girls for and against the name, but finally the champions of "Dandelion" came forth the victors, and thereafter they wished to be known as "The Dandelion Troop." "I suppose you girls know that we can't organize a regular Patrol until we have eight or more girls," said Mrs. Vernon, after the mimic christening of a dandelion with Betty as sponsor for the name took place. "We know that, but you told us that the Handbook said we might be a club from any school or Y. W. C. A., and meet regularly until we had secured our needed number," added Joan, anxiously. "Yes, that is true, but I think we had better continue with our little club as we are now, and study the ways and laws of the Scouts, before we try to increase our number to eight. You see, you had already planned to earn money for camping this summer before the Girl Scout Drive began; then you became enthusiastic over that. "If I am to be your Captain, I, too, must study the plans, principles, and objects of the Organization, or I would be a poor Captain to guide you." "Does that mean we can't call ourselves Girl Scouts, or anything else, until you've done training?" demanded Ruth. "By no means! Dandelion Patrol can go right along and obey the laws of the Scouts, and perfect itself for admission to the Organization as soon as we prove we know enough to claim our membership," explained Mrs. Vernon. "But we won't have to give up our camp idea for that, will we?" asked Joan, anxiously. "No," laughed Mrs. Vernon, while the other girls sighed in relief. While the four girls are trudging homeward, you may like to hear how they came to be weeding Vernon's lawn, and why they were so keen about starting a Girls' Scout Patrol. Julie and Betty were about thirteen years old, and were very popular with their friends. Their sister, May, who was about seventeen, kept house for the family, as the mother had been dead for several years. Besides May, there were Daddy Lee, John, the brother, who was twelve, and Eliza, the maid-of-all-work, who had been a fixture in the household since May was a baby. Ruth Bentley was about fourteen, but she was an only child. Every whim was law to her doting mother and father, so it was small wonder that the girl was spoiled in many ways. But not past salvation, as you shall see. She had a lovely home quite near the Vernons' place, with servants to do the work and wait upon her; thus indolence became one of her evil tendencies. When Ruth heard the Lee girls propose the forming of a Scout Patrol, she, too, yearned to become a member. Hence she had to weed dandelions for a test the same as the other girls did, but not without complaints and rebellion on her part. Mrs. Vernon paid no attention to her fault-finding, for she knew that if the girl persevered there would be less danger of her failing in other tests when the Patrol began on more interesting but more difficult tasks. Joan Allison was also thirteen years of age, and a more sensible little person you would have difficulty in finding. She had three brothers younger than herself, but her parents could not afford a maid, so Joan helped with the house-work, while the boys did the chores about the place. The Vernons' house, on the outskirts of the town, was the handsomest place in the township. There were acres of woodland and meadows at the back, and a velvety lawn that sloped from the front of the house down to the stream that was the boundary line of the estate. The Vernons had had a son who enlisted in the Aviation Service at the beginning of the War in Europe, but he had met death soon after his initial flight on the battle lines. Mr. and Mrs. Vernon had always taken an interest in the children living in their neighborhood, but after Myles' death they tried to forget their loss by closer companionship with the young people in the small town. Mrs. Vernon had heard of and seen the splendid work done by Girl Scouts, and she decided to train a group to join the Organization. Thus it came about that the four girls who were anxious, also, to become Scouts, were the first members in the Dandelion Patrol to be started by Mrs. Vernon. To try out their patience and powers of endurance, as well as to have them earn money for their simple camp-equipment, Mrs. Vernon suggested that they weed dandelions at a rate of twenty cents a hundred. This test taught the girls to appreciate the value expressed in a dime--for it meant just that much service rendered. School would soon close for the summer, and the girls hoped by that time to have enough money earned and saved to buy the second-hand tent and camp-outfit a friend of May's had offered for sale. Every dollar added to the camp-fund gave the girls dreams of the mountains where canoeing, hiking, fishing and living in the open would constitute one long season of delight. Mrs. Vernon listened to their plans and preparations, but she was too wise to discourage them by saying it would take longer than two weeks at the rate of income they were receiving to earn sufficient capital to outfit a camp. She encouraged them in doing whatever work came for them to do--be it dandelion roots or drying dishes--and explained how Perseverance and Persistence always rewarded one. CHAPTER TWO AN UNEXPECTED PROPOSITION Julie and Betty dropped their coins into the bank at home that was jointly kept for their savings, then they hurried out to the kitchen to see what kind of dessert May was preparing. Eliza was busy with the finishing touches of the dinner when the twins ran in; and being the nominal head of the family since the mother was gone, she ordered the children around. "Here, Betty--mash them pertaters whiles I strain the squash, will yuh?" said she. "Shall I add the butter and cream, 'Liza?" asked Betty, eagerly taking up the patent masher because it was considered great fun to watch the tiny squirms of mealy potato run through the sieve. "Julie kin get the butter an' cream--yuh jest hurry and do the mashin'. I'm gettin' late with th' dinner ennyway," replied Eliza, turning her attention to the roast in the oven. Julie started for the jug of cream, but stopped at May's side and asked: "How far is it from here to the Adirondacks, Maysy--I mean, how much does it cost to get there?" "It's a good ways, and I've heard it costs a lot of money, but I don't know exactly how much. Why?" "Oh, nothing much--I just wanted to know, that's all," returned Julie, as she took up the jug to carry it back to Betty. "We want to figure out how much more money we'll have to earn, Maysy, before we can start for that camp. That's why Jule asked," explained Betty, conscientious even in little things like this. "Hoh! why you girls will have to weed Vernon's lawn all summer before you can raise money enough to pay carfare to the Adirondacks!" laughed John, who now scuffled into the kitchen to see if he could find anything good to eat before dinner was served. "We didn't ask your opinion! You're only a child, so how would you know about carfares," retorted Julie, condescendingly. "Oh, really! Is that so! Well, let me tell you, I know a heap more about it than you dream of, 'cause I'm planning to go to Chimney Point Camp myself this summer--so!" exclaimed John, feeling highly gratified when he saw the looks of consternation on his sisters' faces. But he forgot to reckon with Eliza. Eliza was a trifle more than six feet in height, and buxom as well. She had powerful hands and feet and when she snapped her mouth shut as a signal of disapproval, the children knew better than to argue. Now Eliza plunked the soup-pot down upon the range and wheeled to face John. Her broad hands went to their habitual rest upon her ample hips, and she inquired in a high falsetto voice: "John Lee! Does your father know what you'se just said?" "Not yet, but he will t'night, 'Liza; the Y. M. C. A. director of our gym is coming to see him about it," replied John, without the bravado he had expressed towards his sisters. "Then lem'me tell you this much, sonny! Ef your father asks me fer an opinion--and I s'pose he will, seein' how I has brung you all up--I'll come out an' tell him it ain't fair fer him t' let you take money to go to camp this summer, an' make th' girls set to work to earn their'n. An' that's onny fair to all!" "Oh, I am not going to spend money, 'Liza--I'm goin' to help wash dishes in camp to pay for my board," hastily added John. "Wash dishes! Huh!" snorted Eliza disdainfully. "I'd hate t' hev to eat from them dishes!" Then as an afterthought struck her humorously, she added: "But men-folks don't know th' diffrunce--they eat what's set before them, whether dishes are clean or dirty!" May laughed appreciatively and said: "Which goes to show how much 'Liza appraises John's ability to wash dishes." "Er anything else, that I knows of," murmured Eliza, winking at May. "Don't we have t' look after his neck and ears every day afore he goes to school?" Julie joined May in the laugh at John's expense, and he rushed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. But Betty turned to Eliza and said: "'Liza, John's getting to be too big a boy for us to tease like that. I think we hurt his feelings just now." "Betsy, if John's too big for teasin' then he's big enough to 'tend to his own wardrobe and appearance. Now I wonder what he would look like in ten days ef I diden' keep after him all the time?" Betty said no more but she had finished mashing the potatoes and so she ran out, planning how she could please John in order to compensate him for the teasing from Eliza. Julie had been hanging about, thinking she could scrape the bowl clean when her sister had finished whipping the cream for the Snow Pudding. But May had other plans. When the cream had stiffened into a peak of snow-like froth, the bowl was carried to the refrigerator and there placed upon the ice. With a regretful sigh, Julie watched, then ran out after Betty. John and Betty were in the sitting-room asking Mr. Lee about railroad fares and camp-life. So Julie was just in time to hear his reply. Having figured roughly on a scrap of paper, Mr. Lee told his questioners about how much it would cost to reach the Adirondacks. John whistled in surprise, and Betty looked at Julie in chagrin. "My goodness, Betty! It will take us all summer to earn that much money." "I guess we'll have to find some mountains nearer home, then," ventured Betty, wistfully. "I wonder what Ruth will do when she hears we can't earn enough money for fares," added Julie. The following day after school, the four girls met again on Vernon's lawn and exchanged items of news with each other. But the most discouraging of all was the telling of the cost of carfare to the Adirondacks. They stood with baskets hanging from their arms, and weeding tools idle, while faces expressed the disappointment at hearing Betty's story. Finally Ruth said: "Then there's no use breaking our backs over this old lawn. I'll not dig dandelions if it isn't going to get us anywhere." "Oh, I didn't mean to make you feel that way, when I told you about the fares," expostulated Betty. "I only wanted you to know we'd have to find some other camp-place to go to, nearer home." "Anyway, girls, don't let's quit work just now, because we found out about the cost of traveling. Let's keep right on and who knows! we may wind up in the Alps this summer--carfares, steamers for ocean voyages, and everything included--paid for and presented to us by an unknown uncle from a far country!" laughed Joan. "Let me tell you something, too!" added Betty. "Let's try to keep up our spirits while weeding this afternoon, by talking over what we will do when we reach the mountains. I'd rather pretend we were in the Adirondacks, or the Rockies, than over in Europe. But we can picture ourselves in the mountains, _somewhere_, like Sarah Crewe did you know, about her father and home, even while she had to live in the attic!" The girls laughed at Betty's optimism, but she took the laugh in good part; then she began weeding and at the same time began a fine oration on the beauties of the mountains and the wonders of Nature. Soon the other girls were weeding, too, and vied with one another in thinking of some wonderful camp sports or plan they could talk about. Soon, to Ruth's great amazement, each girl had rooted out the required number of dandelions for the day. "Now then, didn't I tell you we could work better if we thought of pleasant things and plans?" exulted Betty. "We certainly did our stint this afternoon without the usual complaints and delays," admitted Joan. "Let's root some more." The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, and by the time the girls carried their baskets of weeds to Mrs. Vernon to be paid for, they found they had earned twice as much money, for they had each rooted out 200 plants instead of their usual 100. As they sat on the cool verandah enjoying ice-cream and cakes, they told their hostess how it was they had weeded so many dandelions. Then they told her about their discouragement when they had heard how expensive a trip it would be to go to camp in the Adirondacks. But in reply to all their talking, Mrs. Vernon smiled and nodded her head. They began to say "good-by" for the day, when Mrs. Vernon said: "I'll have pleasant news for you to-morrow." "Oh, can't we be told just a word about it now?" cried Ruth. "Is it about a camp in the mountains?" added Joan. But Mrs. Vernon shook her head in mild reproof of their curiosity, and refused to be beguiled into sharing her secret. The Dandelion Girls, as they now styled themselves, lost no time after school was dismissed, the next afternoon, in running to the Vernon's house. They found Mrs. Vernon on the side porch waiting for them. "Before you begin work to-day, I thought I would mention a little idea I had last night after you left. It is not _the_ secret but it has some connection with it. "When Mr. Vernon came home last night, he told me he had heard of a fine tent for sale very cheap. There are several cot-beds and four lockers to go with it. He secured an option on it until he could ascertain what your decision might be about the purchase. "As it is such a bargain, I would advise our buying it; then we can erect it on the rear lawn, and your tools and other chattels can be kept in the lockers. It would also provide us with a clubroom all our own while here, and when we go away to the mountains we will have a tent all ready to take with us." "Oh, I think that is lovely!" cried Julie, clapping her hands. "It is so good of Uncle Verny and you--and we thank you a thousand times!" exclaimed Betty, thinking of gratitude before she gave a thought to the fun they might have in the tent. "Well, it will make us feel as if we were preparing for a camp-life this summer, even though we may not be able to really afford it," sighed Ruth, despondently. "Heigh there! Cheer up, can't you? Don't be a gloom just when Verny tells us something so fine!" called Joan, reprovingly. "But we don't even know the price! Maybe it will take all the savings we have had on hand for our camping purposes," argued Ruth. "That's so," admitted Julie and Joan, but Betty said: "How much will it cost us, Verny?" "Well, as I am going to enjoy this outfit as much as any one of you girls, I am going to pay my share of the costs--exactly one-fifth of the total, girls." Ruth smiled unpleasantly at this reply, as if to say: "And you with all your money only doing what we girls each are doing!" Mrs. Vernon saw the smile and understood the miscomprehension that caused it, but she also knew that Ruth would soon overcome all such erroneous methods of thinking and feeling if she but continued interesting herself in the Scout work and ideals. "How much will the total cost be, Verny?" asked Julie. Mrs. Vernon took out a slip of paper and read aloud the items that went with the tent, then concluded by mentioning the cash sum asked for the entire outfit. "Why, it sounds awfully cheap!" exclaimed Betty. "I think it is, girls, that is why I advise you to take it." "What under the sun do we want of an ax, a saw, and all that carpenter's outfit? Why not let the man keep them and deduct the sum from the cost of the outfit?" asked Ruth. "Because, my dear, a good ax, and other tools, are as necessary in camp-work and life as the tent itself. At present, tools are very expensive, and these are of the best quality steel, Uncle Verny says." "Well, buy them if you want to, but don't expect _me_ to wear water blisters on my hands by handling an ax or spade. Not when _I_ go to camp!" retorted Ruth. Little attention was paid to this rudeness, as Ruth's friends knew enough of the laws of the scouts to ignore such shortcomings in others, but to try, instead, to nourish that which was worthy of perpetuation in thought and deed. "Having our own tent where we can rest when we like makes it seem as if the mountains were much nearer us than so far off as the Adirondacks really are," said Betty, happily. "It may turn out that this camp will be all we shall have for this year," commented Ruth. "I don't see why you should say that!" demanded Joan, impatiently. "Because we'll spend our money on this old thing and then have to weed and weed all the rest of the summer to earn the carfares." "It won't figure up any differently in the end, 'cause we'd have to have some kind of a tent, wouldn't we?" asked Julie. "We might be able to borrow some--or buy them on the installment plan. I even might tease father to lend us the money to buy new ones when we are ready to go," replied Ruth. "It isn't one of our rules to borrow or go in debt. We each want to demonstrate independence as we go along. Buying on credit, or with borrowed capital, is a very undesirable method of doing business," said Mrs. Vernon, gravely. "But paying back for a tent next fall, instead of next week, isn't as bad as you seem to think," insisted Ruth. "All the same, we girls are going to buy for cash, and never borrow trouble, if we can help it!" declared Julie, sensibly. "Then it is settled, is it? We take the tent?" said Mrs. Vernon. "Of course! Even Ruth must admit that it is a bargain," returned the three girls in a chorus. "I don't know the least thing about costs of camping, and there seems so little hope of my ever participating in such joys!" retorted Ruth. But they all knew she was well pleased with the purchase. That afternoon they went to work with a zeal hitherto unfelt, for they had a keen sense of proprietorship in something worth-while. Mrs. Vernon felt happy, too, over the way the girls voted to pay cash as they went, for she knew it meant individual freedom for each; and Ruth would soon be made to understand the meaning of "obligations" if she associated with three such practical girls. The moment the weeding was done for the afternoon, four eager girls assembled to hear about the "great secret." Mrs. Vernon began by saying: "Now I don't want you girls to be disappointed in what _I_ consider my fine secret, but I really think it is the only way out for this summer." Ruth sniffed audibly and sat with lifted eyebrows, as if to suggest: "Didn't I tell you that tent would be all you got this year for your money!" But Mrs. Vernon continued her preamble without hesitation. "Even should you girls earn ten times the amount of money you are now receiving each afternoon, you would still lack enough to pay carfares to the Adirondacks, or the White Mountains. And as we agreed from the beginning never to borrow money for our scout work, such a long trip seems out of the question at present. "Last night I sat puzzling over this situation, when a splendid idea flashed into my mind. I remembered a campsite in the mountains not so far from here, that will give us all the delights of the Adirondacks without the costs. A motor truck can carry our outfits instead of our shipping them by freight, and we can go there in my car, whenever we are ready to start. "If we decide on such a plan, we could prepare to leave home the week following the closing of school. I think it will take us at least that long to get everything ready, you know." "Oh, how wonderful!" breathed Betty, joyfully. "Our dreams come true!" sighed Joan and Julie. But Ruth, as usual, could not accept any proposition, no matter how pleasant, without argument. So she said: "How do we know this campsite is where we might wish to spend a summer?" "Mrs. Lee and I spent a summer there when we were girls, and your own mother cried because she had to go with her parents to the farm in the Catskills, instead of camping with her schoolmates. Perhaps your mother will describe the beauties of this place to you, so you will feel sure it is desirable enough for you," said Mrs. Vernon, calmly, but with a faint suggestion of sarcasm in her tone. Ruth had the grace to keep silence after that, and Mrs. Vernon said: "I'm not going to say more about the idea, but you shall judge for yourselves when I take you there in the auto on Saturday." "Dear me. I feel so excited that I'm sure I won't be able to sleep all week!" exclaimed Julie, jumping up and dancing around. "I feel as if there were wheels whirring around inside of me," added Joan. The others laughed, and Mrs. Vernon admitted: "That is the way I felt when it was agreed that I might join my friends for camp-life that summer." "It will be so lovely to camp in the same place that mother dear did when she was a little girl," said Betty, her voice trembling slightly as she thought of the one now absent from sight, but not in spirit. "I don't know but what I'd rather try out the first summer in camp with no other scout girls to watch and comment about our mistakes," confessed Joan. "If we start alone this year, we will feel like experienced scouts by next summer." "I agree with you there, Joan," said Julie. "Then we are pleased with my plan to ride out and inspect the old campsite on Saturday, eh?" ventured Mrs. Vernon. "Yes, indeed!" chorused four voices; even Ruth agreed with her friends about this week-end outing. By Saturday the girls had paid for the tent and outfit bought of the man, and had nineteen dollars left for expenses at a camp that summer. They were at Headquarters (they named the tent on the back-lawn "Dandelion Headquarters") an hour before the time decided upon for the early start to the mountains. But it was as Julie said: "Better too early than too late!" Mrs. Vernon was giving last instructions about packing a luncheon to take with them, then she came out and joined her Patrol. "What do you think, Verny? Eliza said she would bake us a crockful of ginger-snaps and cookies every week this summer, and send them to camp for us, because we would not be home to eat." "How are you going to get them? I asked mother about the campsite and she said it was three or four miles from any village," said Ruth, this being the first inkling she had given that she had inquired about the camp. "Why Rural Delivery will leave it for us, Daddy said," replied Julie. "And my mother said I could make fudge to sell to my family and friends. She would give me the sugar and chocolate. Father ordered two pounds then and there--so that makes a dollar more that I shall have earned before next week," said Joan. "I can make good fudge, too. I'll ask May if I may sell it!" exclaimed Julie. "Our waitress left last night, and mother said she would pay me a quarter a night if I would wash the dishes. But I hate doing dishes. The greasy water gets all over your hands and then they smell so!" said Ruth, not willing to be left out of this working-community. "Did you do them?" eagerly asked the girls. "Of course not! I didn't want to feel all warm and sticky for the rest of the evening. Besides, I manicured my nails so nicely just before dinner." "Dear me! I wish your mother would let me do them--for a quarter a night!" sighed Betty, anxiously. "Even if she did, would you give _that_ money to the Patrol?" wondered Ruth, doubtfully. "Sure! Aren't we all earning for the general good?" "Well, I'll ask mother if she'll let you do them," replied Ruth, magnanimously. She actually felt that she was bestowing a favor on Betty by allowing her to wash her dishes and donate the earnings to the camp-fund. CHAPTER THREE THE OLD CAMPSITE Early Saturday morning the chauffeur brought the car over to the tent, and Mrs. Vernon told the girls to jump in while she sent Jim for the lunch-baskets. She got in the front seat, as she proposed driving the car. When all was ready, the merry party started off with Mr. Vernon wishing them a good time. They were soon outside of town limits, and skimming over a good hard country road. Then Mrs. Vernon drove slower and spoke of the place they were bound for. "Of course you know, girls, that it is not necessary for you to select this site if you do not like it. I am merely driving you there because it seems to meet with our present needs for a camp-life. We still have other places we can investigate, as there is a pyramid of catalogues on the table in the tent." "But every one of those camping places will cost us so much money to reach, and that won't leave us anything for board," said Joan. "Father told us last night that he always wanted to get a crowd of the boys to go with him to that camp you all made when you were girls. But his chums wanted to go so far away that they never got anywhere to camp in the end," said Betty. "Yes, and he said he wished he could have his boyhood over again. Then he'd spend his vacations in camp even if it was near home," added Julie. Mrs. Vernon smiled. "I remember how jealous a few of the boys were when they heard us talk of the fun we had in camp. Betty's mother was so sorry for them that she invited them to visit the camp now and then. Betty takes after her mother for having a great heart." "Maybe we can invite our folks to visit us, too," said Julie, eagerly. "So we can--if they will come and bring supplies," said Ruth. Every one laughed at this suggestion, and Ruth added: "Well, we can't afford to pay for visitors, can we? I won't be surprised to find that we shall have to break camp and return home in a month's time, just for lack of funds to go on with the experiment." "We won't do even that if we have to chop cord wood to pay our way," laughed Mrs. Vernon. "Are there big trees on the mountain, Verny?" asked Betty. "We girls thought it a great forest in those days. To us it seemed as if the trees were giants--but we had not seen the Redwoods of California then," Mrs. Vernon chuckled as she spoke. "What do you call it now?" asked Joan. "This ridge has no individual name that I know of, but the range is an extension of those known by the name of Blue Mountains. The place I have in mind is one of the prettiest spots on this particular spur of hills. You will find forest trees, streams, pools for bathing, softest moss for carpets, flowers for study, wild woodland paths for hikes--in fact everything to rejoice a nature-lover's heart." "Dear me, can't you speed up a little?" asked Julie. "No, don't, Verny--we'll land in jail if you go faster!" exclaimed Ruth. "Let's call this spur 'Verny's Mountain,' shall we, girls?" suggested Betty. "Yes, let's!" abetted Joan. The automobile rolled smoothly and swiftly along, and after the first excitement had abated somewhat, the girls begged their Captain to tell them how she had found the place and what they did at camp when she was a girl. "I think it was that one summer in camp that made me eager to give every girl an opportunity to enjoy a like experience. But we went there under far different auspices than you girls are now doing. We had to convince our parents that we would not be murdered by tramps, or starved, or made ill by sleeping out-of-doors in the woods. "Then, too, we had to load our outfit on a farm-wagon and climb in on top of it so that one trip would do all the moving, as horses were scarce for pleasure-trips, but were needed for farm-work in those days. "I can remember the shock we girls created with the village people, when it was whispered around that we proposed a camp-life that summer, instead of sitting home to do tatting and bleaching the linen. It was all right for boys to have a camp for fun--but for girls, never! "However we six girls were of the new era for women, and we wanted to do the things our brothers and their schoolmates did. They could go camping and fishing and hiking so why couldn't we? What difference did skirts and pig-tails make in vacation-time? So we won over our parents' consent to let us try it for a week. "But we stayed a month, and then a second month until we made the whole summer of it. And, girls, we brought home more knitted socks and crochet trimming and tatting, with an abundance of good health and experience thrown in, than all the rest of the girls in the village could show together. "Even the parson, who had visited our mothers to dissuade them from allowing us this unheard-of freedom of camp-life, had to admit that he had been prejudiced by members of his congregation." "Just like a story-book, Verny! Do tell us what you did when you first got to camp?" cried Julie. "Well, it was lucky for us girls that my brother Ted drove the farm-wagon for us. When we reached the steep road that ran up over the mountain, we had to leave the horses and wagon and carry our outfit to the site we had selected. "Then Ted showed us how to build a fireplace, an oven, and a pot-hanger. He also helped us ditch all about the tent so the rain-water would drain away, and he constructed a latrine for camp. "He promised to drive up on Sunday to see how we were faring, and bring a few of his chums with him, if they could get off from the farm-work. So we gladly said good-by to him, and felt, at last, much like Susan Anthony must have felt when she realized her first victory in the fight over bondage for women." "And didn't you have any guardian or grown-up to help take care of you?" wondered Ruth. "The school-teacher planned to stay with us for a month, but she could not come for the first few days; and we feared we might be kept home unless we started before our folks repented, so we went alone on the day agreed upon. "But, girls, I will confess, every one of us felt frightened that first night; for an owl hooted over our heads, and queer noises echoed all around us, so that we thought of all the dangers the foolish villagers had said would befall us." The car now went through a thriving village which Mrs. Vernon said was Freedom, the last settlement they would see this side of the campsite. With the announcement that they were now nearing "Verny's Mountain," the four girls were silent; but they watched eagerly for the woodcutters' road that Mrs. Vernon said would be the place where they would leave the automobile and climb to the plateau. The further they went, the wilder and more mountainous seemed the country; finally Mrs. Vernon drove the car up a rutty, rocky road until the trail seemed to rise sheer up the rugged side of the mountain. "Here's where we have to get out and walk, girls." And glad they were, too, to jump out and stretch themselves after the long drive. They stood and gazed rapturously around at the wildness and grandeur of the place, and all four admitted that no one could tell the difference between Verny's Mountain and the Adirondacks. "We'll take turns in carrying the hampers, girls," said Mrs. Vernon, lifting the well-laden baskets from the automobile. They began climbing the side of the mountain by following the old woodcutters' path, until they reached a large, grassy plateau. Back of this flat a ledge rose quite sheer, in great masses of bed-rock. Mosses and lichen clung to the niches of this rocky wall, which was at least forty feet high, making it most picturesque. "What a wonderful view of the valley we get from this plateau!" exclaimed Joan. "Is this where you camped, Verny?" eagerly asked Julie. "No, but this is where we danced and shouted and played like any wild mountain habitants," laughed Mrs. Vernon, the joys of that girlhood summer lighting her eyes. "And here is where you girls can play scout games and dances, or sit to dream of home and far-away friends." "The scout games we'll enjoy here, but dreams of home--never! We'll have to go back there soon enough," declared Joan, causing the others to laugh merrily. "Well, come on, girls. Our campsite lies just there beyond that cluster of giant pines that rear their heads high above the surrounding forest trees," said Mrs. Vernon, leading the way across the plateau. The sound of falling water became plainer as they went, and soon, between the trunks of the trees skirting the plateau, the girls spied a beautiful waterfall. It tumbled from one great boulder to another, until it splashed into a basin worn deep in the farthest end of the plateau; thence it sought the easiest way to reach the valley, making many sparkling pools and musical waterfalls in its descent. "How perfectly lovely!" breathed Betty, standing with clasped hands and a gaze that was riveted on the falls. "You had plenty of water for cooking and bathing, didn't you?" said practical Julie. "Yes, and that was one reason we chose this spot for our camp. You see this high rocky wall made a fine wind-shield from the north, and where could one find a more convenient gymnasium than that flat? The pines and waterfall over here provided shelter and supply. So we built our hut against the wall under those trees." "Hut? You never told us you built a hut," exclaimed Joan. "No, because I have no idea of finding it here. I suppose the logs have rotted away years ago," returned Mrs. Vernon. "We might build another one, Verny, 'cause I see plenty of down-timber," suggested Betty. "And it will be great sport to play carpenter," added Joan. Mrs. Vernon forced a way through the tangle of briars and bushes that had grown up since that long-ago, and the scouts followed directly after her. "Girls, here is the pool where we used to swim--isn't it lovely?" The girls stood still, admiring the clear water and the reflection of green trees in the pool; then the Captain turned and began breaking down slender twigs and bending aside green berry-bushes, as she eagerly blazed a trail towards the wall. Here, not fifty feet from the pool, was glimpsed the old frame and timbers of a log cabin. A mass of vines and moss almost hid the hut from view, so that one would unconsciously pass it by, thinking it but the trunk of a cluster of old trees against the wall. [Illustration: _A mass of vines and moss almost hid the hut from view_] "Oh, we must have built well to have had it survive all these years, girls!" cried Mrs. Vernon, joyfully, as she stood and looked at the handiwork of her friends of years long gone. "Verny, this is the way we girls will build, too. We will erect a hut alongside this, and show it to our children many years from now," said Betty, fervently. "I don't see why we can't use this hut, too," said Julie. "The frame and floor beams are solid enough," added Joan, examining the posts. "It will need a roof and some new side-logs--that is all," Ruth said, taking a lively interest in the camp-plan. "Yes, we can easily repair it, and then you girls can build your own hut as an annex to this hotel," said Mrs. Vernon, still smiling with satisfaction at the discovery of the cabin. "Dear me! I wish we had brought our camp outfit to-day and could stay to begin work," complained Joan. "I'm crazy to start, too," admitted Julie. "But we have to have those tools, and some others besides. I shall ask Uncle Verny to sell us some of his extra ones. He has several hammers, screw-drivers, and other implements he can spare," said Mrs. Vernon. "Now what can we look at?" inquired Ruth, quickly wearying of one thing. This was one of the weak tendencies Mrs. Vernon hoped to cure that summer. "You can bring the hampers over to the pool, if you like, and when we are through planning here, we will join you and have our picnic." "Why, I don't want to carry them alone! Can't we all go now and do it?" "I want to snoop about here a little more," said Julie. "And I want to figure out how many tree-trunks we'll have to drag over here before we can have a cabin as good as this one," called Joan, as she measured the length of logs with a hair-ribbon. "Mercy! Aren't any of you going to eat before you finish that nonsense?" Ruth asked plaintively. Mrs. Vernon smiled. Then she turned to Joan and said: "If you girls will really promise to build and finish a hut, I will ask Uncle Verny to loan us the farm-horse to haul the timbers. You girls could never drag them, you know. But Hepsy is accustomed to hauling and heavy work, so we need have no fear of straining her." "Just the thing! Hepsy forever!" shouted Joan, throwing her hat in the air for a salute. "Can you remember all the things we still need this summer, Verny?" asked Julie, anxiously. "We'll jot down everything as we remember it, then we can compare lists when we go to order the things," said Mrs. Vernon. "Won't the girls at school look green with envy when we tell them we are going to have a strange girl camp with us this summer?" laughed Julie, as a thought struck her. "Who is she?" gasped the other girls in surprise. "Ho! did I get you on that?" teased Julie. "This is the first hint we've had of it," complained Joan. "Why no! Verny suggested the plan herself--didn't you, Verny?" But Mrs. Vernon shook her head doubtfully, while Julie shouted with delight at their mystification. Then, eager to share her fun, she cried laughingly: "Hepsy, the dear old girl!" Of course when one is happy and gay it takes but little to cause loud and long merriment, and so it was in this instance. They laughed uproariously at the joke, and decided then and there to tease the other girls at school who were so anxious to join a Patrol, but would not weed the dandelions to earn money for a camp. As weeding had been the best test of endurance and patience Mrs. Vernon could think of at the time, she had felt rather relieved to find that only four responded to the initiation invitation. In doing things according to the Handbook for Captains, she felt she would find four girls sufficient material to practice upon for the first season. When the luncheon was unpacked and spread out, Mrs. Vernon smiled continuously at the happy chatter of the four girls, and the thousand-and-one plans they made for the camp that summer. Then all sat down to enjoy the feast, for nothing had ever tasted so good to them before, and then--did Verny say it was time to start for home? "Oh, no! It can't be late, Verny!" exclaimed Ruth. "Why, we've only been here half a minute, Verny," added Joan. The Captain glanced at her wrist watch. "We have been here more than two hours, girls, and it is a two hour drive back, you know." "Dear, dear! the only comfort I have in leaving now is the hope of being here for all summer in another week!" cried Betty. "Then you have decided to choose this site?" ventured the Captain. "I thought you knew it! Of course this is what we want," admitted Ruth, frankly. And Mrs. Vernon mentally gave her a credit-mark for forgetting self enough to speak her opinion honestly. The drive back was much longer than going, even though the girls planned and plotted how to earn more money with which to buy everything they craved for that camp. It was to be a wonder-camp. "I can add a dollar and seventy-five cents to the fund now," announced Ruth, calmly. "A dollar and s-e-v-e-n-t-y--five cents!" gasped the girls. "Then I'll have another dollar and a half before next Friday--if I keep on washing those nasty dishes every night!" "R-rruth!" squealed Betty, throwing her arms about her friend's neck. "Ruth Bentley!" cried Joan. "I cannot believe my ears!" added Julie, in a whisper. Mrs. Vernon never said a word, but she did a lot of silent praying--thanking Him for this break in the clouds of human will and selfishness that the girl had always displayed hitherto. Ruth felt embarrassed at so much fussing, and felt a deep gratitude to the Captain for not adding to her self-consciousness. The moment she could free herself from Betty's loving embrace, she said, recklessly: "I told mother I'd rather give up camping than do those dishes any more, but now that I've seen the place, I'll scrub the kitchen floor if she wants me to." A great laugh relieved every one's feelings at this statement from Ruth, and the merry party reached the Vernon home feeling very much at peace with the world in general. CHAPTER FOUR BEGINNING THEIR CAMP LIFE The next few days were so filled with the final work to finish the scholastic year, and closing of school, that every one of the girls was kept busy, and had little time to think of camp. Once Thursday came, however, the only exciting thing remained to be done was Commencement on Friday; so the four girls met at Dandelion Tent to plan for the camp. "We ought to have our folks give us a great send-off, like they did with the regiments that mustered from the town families," said Julie. "If they'll only give us all I asked for, we will be satisfied," laughed Joan. "What did you do?" instantly said three voices. "First, I told mother what we would have to have for camp, then I got mother to visit your folks and tell them what we really ought to have to make life comfortable in the wild woods." "Oh, oh! That's why Eliza told us she would fix us up with some jams and other food-stuff," laughed Julie. "And mother asked me did we want any furniture or china?" added Ruth. "What did you say?" asked Julie. "I told her we'd rather she donated the price of china or furniture this time, and let us invest it as we found need." The girls laughed and Mrs. Vernon ran out of the side door, saying: "I'm missing all the fun! Do tell me what it is about?" Then Julie told her what Ruth had replied to her mother's question, and the Captain laughed also. "I see Ruth is developing a wonderfully keen sense of finance." "You'll say so when you see this scrap of paper, Verny," said Ruth, taking a crumpled oblong of tinted paper from her middy blouse and passing it over to the Captain. Mrs. Vernon looked at it in surprise, and gasped: "Why, of all things!" "The price of china and furniture that mother figured we would smash or damage," explained Ruth. "Girls, it's a check for twenty-five dollars from Mrs. Bentley. We'll have to vote her a letter of thanks at once." "Hurrah! Now, all ready for three cheers for Mrs. Bentley!" shouted Julie, jumping upon the camp-stool and waving her hat. Instantly the girls began a loud hurrah, but the folding chair suddenly shut up, with Julie frantically trying to balance herself. Before a second hurrah could have been given, Julie was sprawling across the camp table right on top of the hats, pans and what-not that had been accumulated to take to camp. Such a clatter of tins and wild screams of laughter that filled that tent! Finally Julie emerged from the wreckage and stood up, tentatively feeling of her bones and head and body. "Am I all in one piece, girls?" she asked, trying to appear anxious. "You are, but my hat isn't!" retorted Joan, holding up a crushed straw sailor with the brim severed from the crown. "I'll have to work and buy you another," said Julie. "Please don't! I despise sailors and had to wear this one because mother said I would need no new summer hat if I was in camp," hastily explained Joan. "Come, girls, we must indite that letter to Ruth's mother now. Sit down quietly and suggest something fine," interpolated Mrs. Vernon. So the letter was composed and given to Ruth to deliver, then the last plans for leaving home were perfected, and the Patrol separated for the day. Saturday found the girls again at Vernon's place, eager to hear what day they were to start for camp. Everything that they had on their lists had been provided, and now the only thing to do was to say good-by and leave. This the girls felt could not be accomplished any too soon for their peace and comfort. "Why, Verny, if we don't get away in a day or so, those seven girls who are possessed to join us will steal us and hold us as hostages until you agree to take them in our Troop," said Julie. "Patience! They'll have to wait now, and learn the lesson you girls have finished before they can join this Patrol. Why, I wonder if you realize how high you have climbed on the rungs of the ladder of Scout Ideals during these past few weeks?" said Mrs. Vernon. "I can't see any change," said Joan. "What! don't you think your friends here have improved any whatsoever since we decided to begin a Troop?" "Oh--the girls have--a little, but I haven't!" "You have, too, but you don't see it yet. Wait." "All the same, Verny, tell us when we _can_ start?" begged Julie. "Well, Mr. Vernon sails for his European trip on Monday, so I see nothing to keep us home after that. Can you all be ready to go on Tuesday morning?" "You know we can--why ask?" laughed Julie. "Maybe you'd prefer us to start Monday afternoon after you come home from the steamer," suggested Ruth. Mrs. Vernon laughed. "Hardly as soon as that." When Tuesday arrived, however, the girls found many little things to delay them, so it was past nine o'clock before they met at the old headquarters, but the tent had disappeared. "Here we are, Verny, bag and baggage!" shouted Julie, as they tramped up the side-steps of the porch. "And some of our folks are coming over in a few minutes to see us off. I suspect they have various advices to whisper to you, as well as leave with us some forgotten parting words," said Joan. "Eliza's going to give us a parting pie," added Betty, so innocently that every one laughed. "Well, the visitor that we invited to camp with us for the summer is hitched up and waiting to start," Mrs. Vernon informed the girls, as she pointed towards the barns, where a horse was seen going down the back road. "Why, Hepsy's hooked up to a buckboard? What for?" asked Ruth. "We won't need it this summer, so Uncle Verny suggested that Hepsy take it along for us to use if we had to go to the stores at Freedom, or should we want to go away on a picnic." "Say--that's a great idea! I never thought of it," said Julie. "Which proves that you have no monopoly on great ideas," retorted Joan. Then the automobile drove up to the steps and was soon followed by a heavy rumbling auto-truck that was used for heavy cartage at Mr. Vernon's factory. He had sent it down for the newly-fledged Scout Troop to make use of to carry tents, boxes and what not to Verny's Mountain. The advance line of family members now came straggling up the road to watch their girls depart. Before the truck started, the other friends arrived, so there was quite a crowd to wish them good-by and good-luck as they climbed into the car and wildly waved hats and hands. The ride seemed very short that morning, for so much had to be talked over, and the village of Freedom was reached before they could realize it. Then began the ascent up the woodroad to the plateau. Here the car halted, and the chauffeur assisted the driver of the truck in transferring the boxes and baggage to the buckboard Hepsy had brought thus far. "We'll have to stable Hepsy somewhere, girls," suggested Julie, as she stood and watched the men work. "Yes, we ought to make that our first concern, for Hepsy may not appreciate outdoor life as we do--especially if it rains." "We'll build her a hut," promised Ruth, eagerly. "And let her sit out under a tree for the four weeks it will take us to erect it?" laughed Joan. The girls were too eager to reach their campsite to wait any longer for the men to complete the baggage transfer, so they informed the Captain: "We'll take our suitcases and start up, Verny!" Mrs. Vernon readily agreed to this, so they started off and were soon out of sight. Once they had reached the old cabin, Julie said: "Let's get out of these city clothes and get into our scout camp-uniforms." This met with general approval, and soon the girls were gleefully comparing notes about each other's appearance. But this was interrupted when shouts and crackling of brush was heard. Then poor Hepsy was seen snorting and pulling to bring the loaded buckboard up to the plateau. "Gee! That's some haul--that grade!" complained Jim, as he mopped his hot brow and stood looking back at the steep road. "And Hepsy's so soft from no recent work!" added Mrs. Vernon, as she reached his side. Jim was too easy with the horses for their own good, so she said what she did to let him know his sympathy was misplaced. Hepsy began nibbling at the luscious grass that grew near her feet, and Mrs. Vernon laughingly added: "Poor thing! She must be almost dead to be able to start right in and eat like that." The luggage was taken to the hut and then Jim went back for a second load. The back seat of the buckboard had been removed so the camp outfit could be easily piled upon the floor of the vehicle. But it did not hold very much, hence it was necessary to make several trips. When all was carted up to the campsite, Mrs. Vernon said: "Now, Jim, remember to bring the oats once a week for Hepsy, and any other things I write for. See that all mail is forwarded to Freedom, where we can get it." Jim promised to see that everything was done as requested, then he, too, left. When the last chugs from the automobile truck and the car died away, Mrs. Vernon turned to the girls. "Well, scouts, here we are for a whole summer of delights!" "Hip, hip----" began Julie, and the others joined in. "Don't you think the hut has grown smaller since we were here last?" asked Betty, wonderingly. "That is because you were picturing the place on a much grander scale after you got home than it actually is. It is your thought that has to dwindle again to take in the proportion of the hut as it is," replied the Captain, amused at Betty's experience. "I thought the very same thing, but I hated to say anything that sounded like criticism," admitted Joan. "Tell the truth, girls, I think that hut is tiny, but it looked big enough the other day," laughed Julie. "Then we must build ours larger than this," said Mrs. Vernon, turning to look over the stock of things needing shelter. "It looks like an awful heap of stuff, doesn't it?" asked Ruth. "Yes, but we needed everything, so we had to bring them." "What shall we do first, Verny?" asked Betty. "Better pitch the tent first of all, and arrange the cots, then we can work as long as we like, without worrying about having to make our beds." The girls quickly unrolled the large canvas tent they had purchased, but when it came to erecting it, they found it a much more difficult task than they had anticipated. Jim and the gardener had helped pitch it the first time, but now they were absent. However, after many failures, the tent was up, albeit it looked wobbly and one-sided. The cots were next opened and placed under the canvas, and the lockers were dragged to their right places. "Where's the crex rug Verny said we could bring for the ground inside the tent?" called Julie, thrusting her head from the opening of the canvas. But she forgot Ruth had placed a pole directly in front of the entrance to hold up the flap temporarily. "Ouch! Who left that tree-trunk right in the way?" cried Julie, as she bumped her head smartly. "That's the porter standing at the door of our hotel!" retorted Joan, laughing as she saw Julie scowling. "Well, where's the crex rug, anyway?" demanded Julie. "Come to think of it--Jim threw it out when he unloaded the truck, and then he must have forgotten to pick it up again," said Mrs. Vernon. "We'll have to use grass for carpet to-night, then," said Julie. "Unless you run down and drag it up," ventured Ruth. "That's what we brought Hepsy for, girls. Who'll drive her down and bring back the rug?" called Mrs. Vernon from the hut. All four were anxious to drive and enjoy the fun, so Julie jumped on the front seat and the others sat dangling their feet from the back of the buckboard. The Captain stood smiling and watching as they went, thinking to herself, "What a good time they will have in camp!" When the amateur truckman returned, Ruth called out: "Guess what, Verny? We found the seat of the buckboard in the bushes, too. Wasn't it fortunate we went for the rug?" "We might have hunted all over the camp for that seat when we want to go for a drive, and never have thought of it being left down there," added Julie. When the girls ran over to see what next to do, they found the Captain eyeing a board about sixteen inches in length. She was calculating aloud and wondering if it would fit. "Fit where? What is it for?" asked Joan. "You'll soon find out. Now you girls can unpack the hamper and get luncheon ready--I'm hungry," replied Mrs. Vernon. She knew this would meet with great approval, and soon they were busy unpacking the ready-made lunch, and placing it on a large flat rock. "Ruth! quick--brush that awful bug from the butter!" shrieked Julie, as she stood with both her hands filled with dishes. "Oh--oh! I can't! It's an awful looking creature!" cried Ruth, running away from the rock where the luncheon was spread. "Joan--come here! What's that beast on the butter--see?" called Julie, trying to set the tier of dishes down on the grass. "It's only a young dragon-fly--don't you know one when you see it?" laughed Joan, shooing the insect away. "I've seen them flying in the sunshine, but never on the butter-dish," said Julie, picking up the dishes again and placing them on the cloth. Mrs. Vernon had started for the rock-table when she heard the shouting, but now she laughed heartily. "Joan, where did you study insect-life that you know so much about one of the common members?" "Wasn't it a dragon-fly, Verny?" "Not at all. I should think every one of you girls could tell a dragon-fly, because we have them about our gardens at home." "What was it, then?" asked Joan. "I'm going to send to Scout Headquarters for a book on Insect Life, and have you study the different ones you find while in camp. Then you'll become acquainted with them and never forget again. The same with flowers and trees--I must send for books that you can refer to and teach yourselves all you need to know about these things that every good scout knows." "Oh, come on and let's eat. Every ant and bug in the land will get there before us, and we'll have to eat leavings," said Julie, whipping a hornet from the jelly dish. So with all kinds of insects for guests, the girls ate their first lunch at camp. They were so hungry that stale bread would have tasted good, but given the delicious things prepared by the Vernons' cook, it was small wonder they all felt uncomfortably full when they left the rock-table. CHAPTER FIVE RUTH MEETS WITH DIFFICULTIES Immediately after luncheon, the girls left the flat table-rock and ran off in quest of fun. They had ignored the remains of the meal, and the dishes were left to attract all the ants and flies within a radius of the odor of the food. Mrs. Vernon had gone to the buckboard to unpack the chest that held the tools, and was engaged in sorting the nails she thought would be needed to repair the old hut. When she turned to see if the girls were almost through with the task of clearing away the dishes, she found them eagerly investigating the camp grounds. "How I'd like to have a swim in this pool," called Joan, standing beside the mirror-like water. "Oh, no; we can take a dip any time. Let's go for a hike up the mountainside. I want to explore," cried Ruth. "Why not wait until to-morrow morning for adventuring--I want to see if there are any fish in this trout brook," said Betty. Julie was out of hearing, but she was busy over some quest of her own, and she had shirked work as well as the others. "Girls, is it possible that you are seeking for a kind fairy who might live in the woods, or are you just waiting for some one to happen along and offer services to you?" asked Mrs. Vernon. "What do you mean?" inquired Joan, puzzled at the words. "And what are _you_ looking for, Verny?" asked Betty, seeing the Captain going about examining various spots, then glance up at the trees overhead, or shade her eyes to gaze at the sky. "Finding a suitable place for the cook-stove," said she. "Cook-stove! Why, we didn't bring any!" replied four girls. "Oh, yes we did--I'll show you a fine one to-morrow." "Are we to have running water in our bedrooms, too?" laughed Joan. "You can, if you are willing to do the plumbing," retorted Mrs. Vernon. But evidently she found just the place she sought for; and now the girls were deeply interested in watching her build a camp-stove. "You see, I need a place where the smoke will not be driven into our tents, and also where the wind will act as a blower up the chimney and not a quencher of the fire. "Julie, you can bring me some smooth flat stones for an oven, and Joan can find me a peck of small stones for a lining. Then Betty can cut a good strong young sapling about an inch through, cut off the twigs and leave a clean pole about five feet long; and Ruth can cut two shorter ones with crotches made by two limbs. The crotched limbs can be about three inches long and the poles cut to four feet high. Sharpen the ends to a point so we can drive them into the ground." Each girl went to do the bidding of their Captain, and when they returned they found a pit had been scooped out of the sheltered nook at the base of a huge rock. This pit was lined with smooth small stones, and the flat oven-stones firmly fixed at the back. Then the two notched poles were planted one on each side of the fireplace, and the long pole placed across the top, the ends fitting securely into the notches. "To-night we shall have hot soup for supper, girls, and there will be plenty of hot water to wash dishes in." "Hadn't we better heat some water now for the dishes?" asked Julie. "Oh--haven't you cleared away the lunch table and washed the dishes?" asked Mrs. Vernon, seemingly surprised. "Not yet--there wasn't any hot water," said Ruth. "Then we must heat some at once, for no good scout will postpone clearing away food and dishes after he has had a bountiful meal. It shows a lack of appreciation and gratitude to the Provider when one is slack about cheerfully doing his part," said the Captain. So Joan was sent for a pail of water, and the other girls were told to remove all signs of food from the rock and bring the dishes to the kitchen. "Where is the kitchen?" giggled Ruth. "For to-day, we will have it _below_ the pool in which we wish to bathe. Then the brook can carry away the dish-water without having it seep into the ground and find its way to mingle with the pool." The pail of water was hung upon the cross-pole, and fire was laid and lit in the fire-pit. The girls watched very closely as the Captain slowly placed the dry leaves, then the dried twigs, and lastly the dry wood that would burn quickly and start other wood burning in the stove. While the water was heating, Mrs. Vernon showed the girls how to hitch and unhitch Hepsy. If either one needed to do it, she would understand just where all the pieces of harness fitted in. Hepsy was now given a drink and some oats, and turned out to graze about the plateau. With five pairs of hands, the clearing away of the dishes did not take long. As they worked, the Captain planned the carpentry work. "Don't you think we ought to repair the old hut first?" asked she. "You see, we need some sort of protection for our dry groceries and other things." "Well, we can do that to-day, and begin on Hepsy's shed in the morning," suggested Julie. "I doubt if we can complete all the work to be done on the old place in this afternoon's few hours," returned Mrs. Vernon. "It doesn't look as if it would take more than two hours at most," argued Joan. "We'll begin now and then you can find out for yourselves," the Captain said in reply. All the tools they had brought were now unpacked and placed ready for use. Mrs. Vernon then said: "Now we must weed up all the stubble and wild-growth that has filled the interior of the hut. We may find the floor beams good enough to use again when the undergrowth is cleared away." "Why not let's build the roof first?" asked Ruth. "Because you have no flooring down, and every nail or tool you drop while working on the roof will have to be sought for in the rank growth." The girls saw the logic of that, so they began pulling and working on the material that had to be eliminated before further work could be attended to. "Why, this is as bad as weeding dandelions," grumbled Ruth. "Say, Ruth, dandelions were easy in comparison," laughed Joan, standing up to wipe the perspiration from her face. "Well, all I can say is, if this is the sort of fun the Girl Scouts rave about, I don't want any more of it!" declared Ruth, throwing down her weeding fork and stepping over the beam to get out of the hut. The other girls stopped work and looked impatiently at her, but Mrs. Vernon said: "Perhaps you'd like to work at some other task. There are many things to be done before we can settle down in camp and enjoy our leisure." "All right! Give me any old thing but that weeding!" "Here's the ax--see those trees growing so closely together over there?" Ruth took the ax and signified by a nod that she saw the clump referred to. "Start to cut down several of them, but do not chop too low or too high from the base. I mean, you ought to cut about eighteen inches above ground. When you have chopped through nearly half of the trunk, call me and I will show you what next to do." "Hurrah! Now I'm going to do something different! I'm sorry for you poor girls with nothing but weeds to work on," called Ruth gaily, swinging the ax as she moved away. The three girls watched for a few moments, but she had not yet reached the clump of trees before they were again working hard. The Captain was occupied in removing some boards from the packing cases already emptied of bedding and other things, so no one noticed Ruth. She held the ax up over her head as she had seen others do, and brought it down with a swing. But it caught in the high bushes beside her and was yanked from her hands. "Well! to think a little thing like that birch bush could do that!" exclaimed Ruth to herself. She picked up the ax and took a fresh start. This time she changed her position so the birch could not interfere again. The ax came down, but so wide was its swing, and Ruth had not allowed for any leeway in her stiff pose, hence the muscles in her arms were wrenched and her back suddenly turned with the force of the blow. "O-oh" exclaimed she, dropping the ax and rubbing the flesh of her upper arms. She glanced over at her companions to see if they had seen the awkward work she was making of the chopping, but they were laughing merrily as they worked inside the hut. Mrs. Vernon was not to be seen so the girl's pride was spared. She picked up the ax again and looked at it carefully. "What is there about you that hurt me like that?" But the inanimate ax did not answer, and Ruth could not tell. So she lifted it again, slowly this time, and then made sure that no obstructions were in the way. She paid so much attention to the ax that she scarcely looked where the blow might fall, consequently the blade came down almost on a vertical line with the tree-trunk. It glanced off and sank into the soft soil beside the tree, with Ruth holding fast to the handle. So unexpected was this aim and the downward continuation of the ax until it sank into the ground, that Ruth was fairly pulled over and fell upon her face in the vines and bushes. "You mean old thing! You can stick there as long as you like--I'll never put a finger on you again!" cried the ax-scout, as she got up and felt of the scratches on her face. "What's the matter, Ruth?" called Mrs. Vernon, seeing the girl slowly returning to camp without the ax. "That tool is too heavy for me to use. Have you a hatchet or something else to cut with?" "The ax is the only thing that ought to be used on a small tree; the saw is for thicker trunks, but you can't manage it, either, if you can't handle the ax." "Well, what else is there I can do instead of chopping down forests?" asked Ruth, trying to cover her shortcomings with a laugh. "Did you bring back the ax? It's a very good one, you know." "I thought perhaps one of the other girls would want to change work soon, so I left it by the tree." "If one of the others should feel like quitting the work they were given to complete first, then they can take the ax from its place in the tool-chest. Better bring it to me now, Ruth." As no other alternative was open, she went back to the tree and kicked viciously at the ax. But the blade was still securely embedded in the ground and that made the handle as resistant as an upright post. So all Ruth got for her kick was a suddenly turned toe that felt lame for days afterwards. "Oh, o-oh! _how_ I hate camping! I'm going home and tell every one I know what a horrid thing this Girl Scout business is! All hard work and--everything! No fun, no rest--just lame backs and broken bones!" Ruth fairly screamed to herself as she sat down and removed the sneaker from the foot that had tried to crack the ax-handle of hickory. The Captain heard the crying and hurried over to inquire into the cause of it. Ruth was weeping by this time, so sorry did she feel for herself, and her ill-treatment. "What ever has happened, Ruth, in this perfectly safe spot?" "O-ooh! I must have stubbed my toe! Oooo-h, I'm afraid it's broken!" wailed the girl. Mrs. Vernon saw the ax with its head deep in the ground but she did not dream how Ruth had "stubbed" her toe. She sat down and wiggled the injured member tenderly, then said: "Oh, no, it's not broken, only hurt by the collision. It will be all right in a little while," the Captain replied cheerfully. But Ruth did not want cheerfulness--she wanted to be told she had to remain as quiet as possible and have others wait on her. "Pick up the ax and I'll help you walk over--you can lean upon my arm if you think your toe will feel easier," suggested Mrs. Vernon. "I don't believe I can walk," breathed Ruth, fearfully. "Oh, yes, you can. The foot is all right, it is only the toe that feels lame for a short time--just as it would have done at home if you ran into a piece of furniture." Reaching camp again, Ruth was about to drop the ax on the grass, when the Captain said: "The tool-chest is over on the buckboard, Ruth." The girl clinched her teeth in anger, but the ax was taken to its right place and left in the box whence she had taken it. One after another of the girls looked up and felt surprised to find Ruth sitting on a box holding her foot. Then Julie called out: "Good gracious! Ruth done chopping that tree so soon?" "No, she and the ax had an argument," laughed Mrs. Vernon. Ruth glanced at the Captain out of the corners of her eyes, and wondered: "Did she see me kick that old thing?" "Oh! Well, then, come over and get busy here again," said Joan, beckoning to Ruth. "That won't make your toe hurt, Ruth. You can remain in one spot and weed," added Mrs. Vernon. Not having any other excuse at the moment, Ruth limped to the hut and slowly began the old work, but she rebelled inwardly. After an hour's hard work the clearing was done, and the girls threw themselves down to rest. The Captain was ready for this recess. "I made a jugful of lemonade, girls, and it is as cold as if we had ice water in it. Just taste!" "Oh, glory! Just what I was wishing for," sighed Julie. The others quickly agreed with that exclamation, and tested the drink. The mingled sounds of approval made the Captain smile. After a short rest, Joan said: "What next? I'm ready to start work again." "Dear me! Haven't we done enough for this afternoon? I want to enjoy a _little_ bit of the time here," complained Ruth. "I'm having a fine time! I like this sort of thing," said Joan. "You can do exactly as you like, girls; if you want to do any more work on the hut, well and good; if you prefer to rest or do anything else, there is no one to stop you. But it is plain to be seen that the hut cannot be repaired completely this afternoon, eh?" said Mrs. Vernon, with a smile. "I should say not! If we finish it by to-morrow night we will be clever workers," replied Julie. "I'm going back to work on it, anyway," came from Betty. "You always were the easy mark for every one," Ruth said scornfully, tossing her head. Betty flushed, but Julie defended her. "She isn't an easy mark at all! But she may be too sympathetic for hard-hearted or lazy folks who always play on her generosity!" "I don't believe the scout handbook says that members of the scout organization must criticize or say unpleasant things to others," commented Mrs. Vernon. That silenced every one, and soon all four girls were at work again, removing the dead wood of the flooring. When this was done, Mrs. Vernon examined it carefully. "It isn't as bad as I thought it would be. The tangle of briars and brush, and the decayed outer layer of the beams, made it look as if it all must be removed." Once they became interested in repairing the floor as it should be done, the girls wanted to continue and complete it, but the wise Captain called a halt, and said: "Twilight will soon creep up to compel us to stop work; before that comes we want to have everything ready for the night." So when darkness fell the camp was ready and waiting for it. A fine fire reflected light fitfully about its radius, and lanterns were lighted for use in case the campers wished to go about. Hepsy had been fed and bedded for the night, and the tent was in readiness for its tenants. Supper had been prepared and disposed of, and the dishes washed and cleared away before darkness invited every one to sit down and listen to the Captain's stories of girlhood days in this very spot. But she had rather a drowsy audience that night. Four girls were so tired out with healthy exercise and the mountain air that the fire gave them a feeling of peace and rest. Not a demur was heard when Mrs. Vernon suggested bed, and the hard cots must have felt like a nest of feathers to the newly-fledged scouts, for soon every one was fast asleep. CHAPTER SIX FIRST LESSONS IN SCOUT WORK A loud drumming on a tin pan roused the would-be scouts in the morning, and each girl tumbled out of her cot feeling as if she had slept on roses. The invigorating air and the benefit of sleeping out-of-doors began to be felt. Then the odor of cooking was wafted in through the tent opening, and Joan ran to look out. "Oh!" sniffed she, "Verny's up and dressed and has something _awfully_ good cooking for breakfast!" "Um-m--I should say she has!" added Julie, running over to join Joan at the tent door. "What is it, Verny?" called a chorus of girls, and as the Captain turned to reply she saw four tousled heads crowded out of the opening. "Can't tell secrets until you've washed and dressed!" laughed Mrs. Vernon. It was not long, therefore, before the hungry campers joined her about the fire and wanted to know what smelled so good. The Captain was adding a pinch of salt to the "something" in the pot, so she did not look up, but said hastily: "Will some one watch that toast--it seems to be scorching." "Did you ever! Making toast on a stone!" laughed Julie, trying to turn over the slices with a stick. "But the stone's as hot as any stove-lid," commented Betty, as she saw the smoke rise from the crumbs that burned on the rock. "Is that cereal standing off on that other stone?" now inquired Ruth. "Yes, but who'd a thought a stone would ever be used for an oven?" laughed Joan, stirring the cereal with a long spoon. "The oven won't retain heat long after the stone is removed from the embers. Better be ready to serve yourselves as soon as I say 'ready,'" said Mrs. Vernon, as she removed the pot that had given forth such appetizing odors from the fire, and stood it upon a heated rock. "Now--all ready!" laughed she, and every girl made a dash for the cereal. "Here--let me dish it up and pass it along. The whole mess will be in the fire if we all struggle to be first," added Joan. The cereal disappeared like snow in July, and then four eager girls were asking for the next course. "This food, fit for the gods, is composed of the leavings of supper last night. But you girls will never dream that it goes by a homely name," said Mrs. Vernon, as she ladled a goodly portion upon each plate which was thrust out under her nose. "What _is_ it called?" asked Ruth, tasting a bit that fell upon the edge of her plate. "It smells heavenly, Verny!" sighed Julie, rolling her eyes skyward. Every one laughed, for Julie always was extravagant in her language. "In boarding-houses the guests object every time it is served, but we have the great advantage over city boarders whose hash is made merely with chopped meat and eggs and milk! We have Nature's appetizer to season our dish, so that it becomes nectar and ambrosia in this camp," explained the Captain, smilingly. The hash went the way of the cereal, and the girls looked anxiously in the pot to see if there could be a second helping. "Oh, thanks to our lucky stars and Verny, she made a lot of it!" called Julie, waving a spoon at her comrades. "But where is the toast? Verny--the toast is gone!" shouted Joan, gazing fearfully under the stones to see if it could have slipped from the oven-rock. "Ha! that's my secret! Eat the hash, girls, and I will tell you where the toast is." It needed no second invitation to finish all signs of hash, then Ruth demanded to know where the toast was hidden. The Captain ran over to Ruth and touched the spot where the stomach is located. "You've had your share of toast and it is in there!" laughed Mrs. Vernon. "We haven't! We only had hash!" retorted Ruth, wonderingly. "The hash was made of toast and other things. I only had about a spoonful of corned beef left from last night. But toast, when broken into bits, will taste so like meat that few people know the difference. That's how I managed to cook a second helping." "As long as it was not wasted I don't care much whether I ate the toast in hash or had it with tea," said Julie. "But I can eat more breakfast," commented Joan. "'Enough is as good as a feast,' and I'm sure you girls must admit you've had enough to sustain you until noon," said Mrs. Vernon. "Oh, certainly!" agreed Joan, "making the best of a famine is my especial virtue." This started a laugh, and merry words were exchanged while the dishes were cleared away and the camp was left in good order. "Now shall we start in to finish the hut, Verny?" asked Betty. "I thought I'd like to read aloud from the handbook, 'Scouting for Girls,' and see how many of the laws and customs you girls know." "You'll find us in the A-B-C-class, I'm afraid," said Joan. "Then the sooner you are promoted out of it the better," declared Mrs. Vernon, seating herself on a stump and opening the manual. "First question: 'How do you start a Patrol?'" asked the Captain. "Oh, we know that, Verny, 'cause we had to learn it by heart in order to advise those girls who wanted to join, you see," chorused the girls. "Well, then, are we a Patrol now?" asked Mrs. Vernon. "In the real sense, we are not, as there are only four members at present; but we are _going_ to be one, aren't we?" said Julie. "Yes, but until we have eight girls we are not anything on record. However, we can form our club and then enlist new members to increase the number to the required total. "Next it says: 'The Scout Captain who has studied the plan, principles and object of the organization, explains the laws and obligations of members to those who wish to form a troop.' I must now take down your names and addresses in a book, and decide what day or at what time we wish to hold our regular meetings. "It says here that fifteen minutes must be spent on knot-tying and three-quarters of an hour on recreation. So I will now teach you the art of tying knots. Following this lesson, we will take forty-five minutes for recreation." But the fifteen minutes merged into twenty, and still the novitiates begged to be allowed to "try just one more knot." "Now I am going to read the Girl Scout Laws from the book, but there will be no comments, please, until I give the signal," said the Captain, having taken away the rope for knots, and seated herself upon it to keep the girls from experimenting. "'1--If a Scout says "on my honor it is so," that means that what she says is as true as if she had taken a most solemn oath. "'2--A Girl Scout is loyal to the President, to her country, and to her officers; to her father, to her mother, and to her employers. She remains true to them through thick and thin. In the face of the greatest difficulties and calamities her loyalty must remain untarnished. "'3--A Girl Scout's duty is to be useful and to help others. She is to do her duty before anything else even if she gives up her own pleasure, safety, or comfort. When in doubt as to which of two things to do she must think: "Which is my duty?" which means "Which is the best for other people?" and then do that at once. She must be prepared at any time to save life or help the injured. She should do at least one good turn to some one every day. "'4--A Girl Scout is a Friend to all, and a sister to every other Girl Scout. Thus, if a Scout meets another Scout, even though a stranger to her, she may speak to her and help her in any way she can, either to carry out the duty she is then doing, or by giving her food, or as far as possible anything she may want. Like Kim, a Scout should be a "Little friend to all the world. "'5--A Scout is courteous; that is, she is polite to all. She must not take any reward for being helpful or courteous. "'6--A Scout keeps herself pure in thought, word and deed. "'7--A Scout is a friend to animals; she should save them as far as possible from pain, and should not kill even the smallest unnecessarily. They are all God's creatures. "'8--A Scout obeys orders under all circumstances; when she gets an order she must obey it cheerfully and readily, not in a slow, sullen manner. Scouts never grumble, whine nor howl. "'9--A Scout is cheerful under all circumstances. Scouts never grumble at hardships, nor whine at each other, nor frown when put out. A Scout goes about with a smile and singing. It cheers her and cheers other people, especially in time of danger. "'10--A Scout is thrifty; this means that a Scout avoids all useless waste of every kind; she is careful about saving every penny she can put into the bank so that she may have a surplus in time of need. She sees that food is not wasted, and that her clothing is cared for properly. The Girl Scout does not waste time. She realizes that time is the most precious thing any one of us has. The Girl Scout's time is spent either in useful occupation or in wholesome recreation, and she tries to balance these two harmoniously.' "Now girls, have you any comments to make, for I have read the ten commandments of the Girl Scout organization, and will hear any testimony now?" said Mrs. Vernon, laughingly. "I haven't any comments to make on the reading, but I would like to remind the illustrious Captain that she forgot a very important part of the program this morning," said Julie, seriously, albeit there was a twinkle in her eyes. "Speak now or forever after hold your peace!" declared Mrs. Vernon, with a magisterial air. Every one laughed, but Julie obeyed the command: "You said we would give fifteen minutes to knot-tying and forty-five to recreation. Now I wish to ask Your Honor, is this Scout Reading to be considered as recreation?" The Captain smiled, and after a few moments' pause said: "I am guilty of theft. But I plead extenuating circumstances. I forgot what I said about recreation, and was so over-anxious to have my infant Patrol grounded in the first lessons of scout duties that I stole time from the hour. Who is there here just enough to sentence me?" "We have no jury, but in lieu of a speaker, allow me to speak for myself: your zeal shall be your excuse, but hereafter see that you do not commit the same offense," spoke Julie, with a judicial air. The Captain and girls laughed heartily, and thus ended the first reading of Scout Laws. Mrs. Vernon closed the book and got up from the knotty seat of rope, and asked the girls if they had thought of any form of recreation. "We still have to be informed by the Court if the time stolen from our forty-five minutes must be returned or deducted?" countered Julie. "The Court thinks you should have the full time given you for any useful recreation--not for foolishness," said Mrs. Vernon. "Well, would the Court adjudge a good hike to be useful?" demanded Joan. "The Court most certainly would, and will even offer to accompany the jury, or whatever body you call yourselves." "Then it's us for a hike, girls!" cried Joan. The suggestion met with favor, and soon the newly-made Scouts were climbing the steep grade of the mountainside. It was more than an hour before voices were again heard, and Hepsy whinnied as if to ask "What sort of scouts are you, anyway, to listen to a law read about animals and how to treat them, and then go away without giving me my breakfast?" The moment the girls heard the appeal from the mare, they understood and ran pell-mell to get Hepsy the oats. When she saw they were measuring out her breakfast, she craned her neck as far as it would stretch, and pawed the ground impatiently. Mrs. Vernon held her head with both hands and cried as if in despair: "Merciful goodness! What sort of a Captain am I to forget our faithful old scout Hepsy?" "Will Hepsy get sick now, Verny?" asked Betty, worried. "No, but she is so famished she may eat me up if I venture near her with a pail of water! That is all that might happen." "If she does, there will be a second result, too. Hepsy'll sure have an awful case of indigestion after dining!" retorted Julie, causing the others to laugh. Hepsy was given a long drink and then left to enjoy her oats. While the animal was feeding, Julie said: "How about the hut?" "I hope we can finish it to-day, Verny," added Joan. "You can try at least. Every bit done helps, you know," replied the Captain. The old flooring had been scraped clean and the cross-sections that were too badly decayed were removed. Then the boards taken from the packing cases were fitted in and nailed down securely. By one o'clock the partly new floor was finished and cleaned up. Dinner was suggested before continuing the work, and the campers talked about roofing the hut while they prepared the meal. "Now that the floor is finished, two of us ought to begin to carry in our stock, while the others work on the roof. That will save our groceries from the moisture or dampness in the ground, you see," said Mrs. Vernon. "But we all want to work on the roof--it will be fun," declared Julie. "In that case, we shall have to draw lots. And after half of the groceries are moved in by two girls, the others will have to take their turn while the first two enjoy the roof," suggested the Captain. "And you--what do you want to do?" asked Ruth. "I am going to hunt around for any down timbers that we can use for siding the hut where the old logs have fallen away and rotted on the ground. I will leave you scouts to work on the roof after your own plans." "Oh, but tell us what to use before you go?" cried Betty. "You'll find a roll of tar paper over there with the supplies. This you must measure off and cut the required size. Be sure to have it long enough to turn under the eaves and over at the top." "How do we nail it down?" asked Joan. "Lay the strips lengthwise, from ridgepole to eaves, and fasten down each strip on the old boards. But, girls, do be careful not to break through those openings in the roof, nor crumble in at any decayed places!" "All right--I guess we can remember that much all right," said Julie, eager to begin. So Mrs. Vernon left them to see how far they would use their intelligence in doing this work, while she began seeking along the woodland road for down tree-trunks of movable length and weight. She found plenty of timber such as she wanted for the sides of the old hut, and also to start work on the new one, but she did not return to camp until four o'clock. When she did, she found two of the girls fast asleep on the grass, while the other two were in the pool splashing about. She went quietly over to the hut, and, to her surprise, found the roof as neatly finished as if done by an experienced hand. The edges were turned under and fastened with nails, and the seams lapped just as they should be. In fact, she was delighted with the workmanship. Then, too, the boxes of groceries and other goods were neatly stacked in one corner, so less room was used for storage and more left for personal use. "Now I wonder which one of the girls thought this out? It is so natural for young folks to shove the boxes in and leave them standing about anywhere. But this proves to me that one of my scouts has a good head for management of affairs." The girls swimming about in the pool now caught sight of the Captain, and scrambled out of the water. They were soon dressed and ran over to receive Mrs. Vernon's compliments on the work done. The two sleeping ones also sat up, rubbed their eyes, and laughed. "When did you get back, Verny?" yawned Ruth. "Just now; but, girls, I have seen the hut, and you surely have done fine work!" exclaimed the Captain, turning to admire the roof again. While her head was turned, four girls exchanged knowing winks, but their faces were as serious as ever when Mrs. Vernon's eyes searched theirs keenly. "We thought you'd be pleased, Verny. But what kept you so long?" said Julie. "I found enough wood for a new hut, and then I sat down on a log and sketched a working plan for the sections of the building you propose erecting. "You see this rocky wall that rises back of the old hut?" the Captain pointed to the lines she had drawn on the paper. "Well, we will use that for a back wall against which our new hut can brace itself. The wall of the old hut can supply one side of the new building, and we can extend the roof on the same lines as the old one, along over the new hut." "Oh, yes, that's a fine idea!" cried Joan. "And that will save us hauling the wood and building up one whole side, won't it?" asked Betty. "Yes, but it also makes a two-room house of the two huts, see?" and Mrs. Vernon displayed another plan she had drawn on paper. "I think I like it better than having two separate huts, Verny," said Julie. "And we can use the wood we might have built into the one side of the hut for a shed for Hepsy. Can't we go right on extending the house and build the lean-to to the end of the new hut, just as we plan hooking the new addition on to the old hut?" asked Joan. The original way in which the description was worded caused a general laugh, but Joan never worried about laughter when it was in fun. She always said, "Well, if it gives any one any satisfaction to laugh at me, I'm glad to accommodate them so cheaply. It doesn't hurt one." "Joan's idea is good, and we will follow it as soon as we finish the frame of the new hut," said Mrs. Vernon. "We were thinking of moving your cot-bed into the old hut, Verny, but then we decided to wait and see if you would like it," now suggested Betty. "You see, we were a bit crowded last night in the tent, and we thought you would like some privacy of your own. Being in the old hut might appeal to your sentimentality," added Julie. Another laugh rang out, but this time at Mrs. Vernon's expense. She sighed and posed as a sentimental maiden might, and simpered her thanks for the scouts' forethought. Then they laughed again. "Now all joking aside, girls! I appreciate your thought and will gladly move my hotel-suite to the hut. At least I shall be near the crackers and prunes if I feel hungry at night," declared Mrs. Vernon. She then called the girls to assist her in moving her effects from the tent to the hut, and as they went back and forth the Captain could not refrain from again voicing her gratification at the manner in which the scouts finished their first carpentry work. "If you were fully-fledged scouts of record, you surely would be awarded a badge." Behind her back, as she said this, the Captain's four carpenters again exchanged smiles and knowing winks. CHAPTER SEVEN HEPSY JOINS THE SCOUTS' UNION The next morning, after breakfast dishes were cleared away, the Captain said: "Now we will give a few minutes to reading our Scout Handbook, and then practice some new knots. After that we can choose our recreation." "I don't want to waste any more time on recreation until our new hut is built," declared Joan. "Neither do any one of us, Verny," added Julie. "Well, if that is the general wish, we can work on the hut and call it recreation, you know," answered Mrs. Vernon. The moment the knots and reading were finished, they all ran over to the tool-chest to select whatever implements they might need. Mrs. Vernon handed out a spade and a pick, but no one took advantage of them. "What are they for?" asked Ruth. "We will have to divide the work as we did yesterday. Two can dig the cellar while two haul timbers for the hut." "Dig cellar! You haven't any cellar under yours," returned Joan, amazed. "But we have! Do you suppose those timbers and flooring would have lasted as long as this if we hadn't excavated a pit under them. The hole may have filled up with leaves and dried wood material, but all the earth was cleaned out by digging a cellar at least three feet deep. This gave ventilation and kept our things from mildewing." "Why don't we all dig foundations, then, and finish it so much the sooner?" asked Julie. "You'll find it isn't the easiest work to stoop over with a pick or spade and move earth that is filled with heavy stones. Your backs will ache in a short time, and you'll grow tired of the task. Then I propose exchanging those weary ones for two fresh diggers," explained the Captain. "Turn and turn about keeps one from feeling any monotony in the work." "All right--send Ruth and Joan off for the first haul of logs," replied Julie, resignedly. "But I'd rather dig, Julie, and let you two go for wood," declared Ruth. "Ha, ha, ha! You're so contradictory! That's just what I hoped you'd say! 'Cause I'd lots rather drive Hepsy down the hill and hitch her up to the logs she's got to haul!" exclaimed Julie, exultantly. Ruth said nothing but took the spade and started for the newly staked out cellar of the hut. Joan scowled and followed, but she wanted to join Julie in hauling the logs. Betty understood and ran up to exchange work with her. "I'd be a poor scout if I didn't dig alongside Ruth when it's my job!" returned Joan, when Betty said she would exchange. "But we all will have to dig and take turns, so what difference will it make, Joan dear, if I dig now or later?" argued Betty. "Don't you really care whether you work with Ruth or Julie?" asked Joan, skeptically, because she liked to be with Julie. "It's all the same to me, as long as we build the house," returned Betty, taking the pick and thrusting a hook into Joan's willing hands. "What's this for?" wondered she. "Verny says we have to use it to move the timber." "Great! Well, as long as you don't mind, Betty, I'll run away and find Julie." "I can't budge a spadeful of this hard ground, Betty," complained Ruth, as her companion joined her. "Oh, not in that way, Ruth. You'll have to remove all the roots and weeds first, and that will help break up the hardened soil, you know; 'cause the brush-roots run down real deep, you see." "But I just hate weeding, Betty; can't I dig it up without doing that extra work?" "You tried just now and said it was awfully hard! I am going to weed mine first, and then dig it up." So saying, wise Betty weeded a patch and then used the pick with which to break up the ground. This done, she took the spade and, to Ruth's great surprise, the loosened earth came up readily. The energetic young scout had made good progress in this work before Mrs. Vernon came over to inspect the task. Ruth raised no further objections when she saw how easy the digging was for Betty; so she weeded, too, and followed her chum's example. Soon she found the work was not nearly as hard as she had thought it would be. But that is because she had not stopped to complain or think how hard it was _going_ to be--she forgot all this in watching and working as Betty did. Julie and Joan followed Mrs. Vernon as she led Hepsy down the slope to the spot where the cut timbers were piled up. Here she showed the girls how to attach the chain and tackle to a log, and then to hook the chain to Hepsy's harness. The strong horse willingly started up the hill and dragged the long log up to the site where the hut was to be. One girl drove Hepsy carefully to avoid ruts and snags which might catch the log and thus yank Hepsy up suddenly and perhaps injure her. The other girl had to follow in the wake of the log to see that it did not roll or twist out of the pathway, causing a ruthless tearing at bushes and flowers along the way. The two girls who were digging found it quite tiresome to lean over so constantly. When they stood erect to stretch their back muscles, their bones felt as if they would crack. Ruth complained of her aches long before the Captain joined them. Then Mrs. Vernon said: "Ah! I think I was wise in telling you girls to take turns about. Now I will signal for the two timber-jacks to exchange work with you." When the two girls hauling timber responded to the call, they seemed right glad to exchange labor with the excavators. "You'll find this digging a pit is simply awful, girls!" exclaimed Ruth, pretending she could not straighten her backbone. "It can't be a patch on the job we've been doing!" cried Joan, looking at her hands with pity in her eyes. "That's right! When you've had to steer or roll a log a mile long, you'll have something to say about hard work!" added Julie. "One would think, after hearing you girls, that you were too soft and delicate to proceed further in your scout tests," said Mrs. Vernon seriously. That stopped all complaints instantly. But Ruth could not help adding: "Girl scouts never work like this in camp--I'm sure of it." "Girl scouts would never call _this_ hard work! They'd laugh at any one for hinting at such a thing. And you'll do the same thing before the summer's over," said Mrs. Vernon. "Ah well! Let's prepare for the end of the summer, girls," sighed Julie, ludicrously. "Come on, Ruth--take the reins from Julie and let's start," said Betty, taking the hook and starting down the road. "By the time you two girls get back here, Betty, we'll show you how you should dig a cellar," retorted Julie. "Why, you only managed to dig up a square yard in all this time. You should have had half of the pit finished." Betty and Ruth smiled at each other and nodded their heads wisely, then ran off to help Hepsy with the logs. Mrs. Vernon smiled also as she saw that each couple would soon learn that nothing is easy until one learns how to do it right. Then, when that time comes, it generally happens that one is forced to go higher to a new task. And so on, eternally, for this is progress and growth. By the time the horn sounded for another change of work, both diggers and haulers were glad to exchange back again. Mrs. Vernon was busy about dinner, for she said such hard labor deserved hearty meals. And the girls agreed absolutely with her on that statement. "I say! I'll never find fault with your digging again, Betsy," said Julie meekly, as she displayed about eighteen inches square of dug-out cellar, and a row of water-blisters on her hand. Betty laughed at her sister, but the work continued until the cellar was dug deep enough and a mass of timbers was waiting to be used. As they stood admiring their morning's work, Betty said: "I think Hepsy is the best scout of all." "Why?" asked the other girls. "Just see how she worked! She hauled and hauled, and never asked to exchange for an easier job. And all the time she worked she never complained once of an aching back or tired muscles. Yet I am sure she wanted to kick mightily now and then." A roar of laughter greeted her last words, and Betty guilelessly asked: "_Now_ what have I said--what is the matter with you girls?" The call to dinner quickly changed the current of their thoughts, however, and once seated about the stone table, they fell to with a will never manifested for plain cookery at home. "We ought to be able to lay the floor logs and get the corner posts up this afternoon," suggested Joan. "I was going to propose a hike downhill in the opposite direction from the one we took yesterday," said the Captain. "Then, when we return, a good swim will refresh us all for supper." "Oh, yes, we've worked enough for one day," said Ruth. When the scouts were ready to start for the hike, Mrs. Vernon showed them a note-book. "I'm going to have you take down notes on the flowers, trees, or birds we find on these hikes. This will prove very desirable practice when you are admitted as a Troop." They started off, while Hepsy stood leisurely nosing at her dinner of oats. This reminded Julie of the funny saying by Betty just before dinner, and she now repeated it to the Captain. "I meant, you know, Verny, that Hepsy must have had stiff joints from all that hauling yet she never kicked once to straighten out the kinks," explained Betty, when Julie finished. "I doubt whether Hepsy felt as tired as you think she did. You must remember that her spine is almost parallel with the ground over which she has to pull her loads, and having four legs on which to balance herself, makes it easier than only having two. The chain and tackle also simplified the work for Hepsy, but we can't say as much of the hauling an Indian Squaw has to do. "Why, the poor squaws do all the lifting and moving of their camps, through forests, over rough land, and even carrying their papooses in the bargain. They, too, drag their burdens in a sort of 'cradle' that is hitched to their waists by means of two leather traces." "Oh, the poor creatures!" exclaimed ever-ready, sympathetic Betty. "I'm thankful I'm not an Indian female!" declared Julie, with such earnestness that the others laughed. After the usual scout reading from the Handbook the next morning, the girls hurried to work because they were anxious to see their hut built and finished. The ardor of accomplishment was beginning to fill their souls. That day the cross-beams of the floor were laid and securely fastened at the corners. Then the other logs were sawed and notched for the corner-posts. It was impossible to split the timber for rafters, so the Captain advised the use of smaller tree-trunks for this purpose. "What shall we do to keep out the rain or wild animals?" asked Ruth, seeing that no windows had been provided for the old hut. "We can hang up water-proof canvas in the windows if it rains, but I have an idea for a door that I want to work on to-morrow," replied the Captain. The carpentry now went steadily on, and without friction, as each one was anxious to see a finished hut. They were tremendously interested in their work, too, and that always makes a task easy. Mrs. Vernon superintended everything, and demonstrated a wonderful knowledge of woodcraft. Then, whenever the carpenters were cheerfully working without her help, she turned to her own plans. These had occasioned curious comment from the four girls, because they could not see what could be built with a lot of short boards which had been taken from the boxes. "You'll see when I'm through," replied the Captain to all their questions. The scouts worked so industriously that the new side walls were completed, and they were eager to begin work on the roof. The hut was much longer than the old one, but its width was the same, as it used the end wall of the old hut for one side of its own. The meeting of the two front walls of the huts, however, had been a problem. The scouts could not figure out how to nail any boards or logs to a corner post already used for that purpose. But Julie thought out a scheme. "We'll leave that meeting place in front, for the door. Then we'll use a post for the other side of our door, and begin _there_ with the wall." This was hailed as a fine idea, so they tried it. But the door-lintel was not as secure as it might be, and the girls dodged in and out to avoid having it come down upon their heads should it topple. They had no doubt but that it _would_ fall in sooner or later. "We're all ready for a roof, Verny, and don't know where to find any wood for rafters or ridgepole," said Joan, when the Captain walked over to pass judgment upon the structure. "That's a dangerous looking lintel, girls." "Best we could do with what we had," replied Ruth. "The material is all right, but the construction is careless. Now I have finished my door, but I wouldn't dare swing it from that frame," continued the Captain. "Oh, were you building a door of those boards?" asked the girls. "Yes, and I feel quite proud of it, too. Come and see it." The door was made of boards all the same lengths and thickness but of different widths. So Mrs. Vernon had grouped them to have all the wide boards at top and bottom of the door, and the others graduating in widths until a narrow center one was reached. This made a pretty effect. They were all securely fastened to a frame made of rough planks, but this frame would be on the inside so it would not be seen. "We can hang a drapery, or some vines on this back to hide the unsightly frame," said the Captain. Heavy leather hinges were secured to the back edge of the door, and a latch and handle made of some sheet iron, were bent and cut to fit. "How did you ever do that without a blacksmith?" asked Joan. "I played my own blacksmith while you were on your hike this morning. I heated an old piece of wagon-tire and hammered it flat, then heated it red-hot and cut it with tools I found in the box." "All right, Verny! You shall take the prize this time," Julie commended heartily. "But that doesn't give us a roof or rafters," said Ruth. "I have them all ready for you. I remembered them to-day when I inspected your work," said Mrs. Vernon, leading the way down to the buckboard. "Help me lift the seats off," ordered the Captain. This was done, and the curious girls then saw Mrs. Vernon pry out some small wooden wedges and lo! a board came from the floor of the buckboard. But stay! It was not _from_ the floor, but one of the extra boards that had been laid down to form a double flooring. Several boards were thus removed, and then it was found that the original floor of the buckboard was as good as ever. "Why did you have another floor laid?" asked Julie. "Jim suggested that we might need a few boards for see-saws, or some other fun, so he fitted these down over the real bottom of the buckboard. I forgot about them until I found your need of just such boards for your roof." "They're not very thick or heavy," said Joan, doubtfully. "You don't want them heavy for a roof. The lighter the better, as long as they are steady and secure." The boards were carried up to the new hut, and found to be several inches too long for the roof. "That's an error on the right side, if there can be such a 'bull,'" said Mrs. Vernon. "For now you can have overhanging eaves instead of having the roof come flush with the sides." "We haven't half enough of these boards for a roof, if we propose covering it with tar-paper as we did the old hut," said Julie. "We only need enough to form bases for us to nail the laths to. You will find a large bundle of laths in the material Jim sent out by the Freedom delivery-wagon. The laths are easy to nail down and then the paper goes over that, you know." So the roof was finally completed, but it was not as neat and exact as the work on the old roof, so Mrs. Vernon wondered! The week had gone by and the next day would be Sunday, but the scouts grumbled at the forced vacation. "Dear me! I was sure we would be through building and ready to play by this time," complained Joan. "I think you have accomplished wonders this week. I thought it would take us two weeks, at least, to build this new hut," said Mrs. Vernon. "If we hadn't had such glorious weather perhaps it might have taken us that long," said Betty. "But the wood was all dry, and we had no delays in any way." "I think the door is the best-looking thing about the whole place," said Julie, with head on one side, admiring the craftsman's work. "That commendation makes me yearn to try other ideas," laughed the Captain. "Maybe you are thinking of building a cobblestone chimney in our house," laughed Julie. "Why didn't we think of it in time! We could have had one as easy as anything!" exclaimed Mrs. Vernon. "Are you joking?" asked the girls. "No, but now we must see where we could have it. I am afraid we will have to lean it up in the corner against the stone-wall at the back of the hut." The girls laughed at this, for now they were sure Mrs. Vernon was only fooling them. CHAPTER EIGHT SUNDAY VISITORS Sunday morning was so fine that the scouts declared it was too bad they couldn't finish the hut, as they felt so full of energy. Mrs. Vernon laughed, and said: "Bottle it up for Monday." "But there isn't anything we can do on a day like this," said Ruth, plaintively. "Oh, yes, there is. Girl scouts can hike, visit, or do any of the recreations suitable for Sunday. It does not say that we must sit down and pull long faces," replied Joan. "Well, what would you do, Verny?" Ruth asked of the Captain. "First of all I would eat my breakfast and hasten to clear away all signs of it from camp." "Second the motion!" laughed Julie. "Oh, pshaw! Of course we will do that, but _you_ know what I mean--after breakfast," Ruth retorted. "If we want something quiet to do, we might sketch that signboard on a sheet of paper. I brought heavy paper and pencils. But should we want to go for a long walk, we can do the designing any time. Then there is our Scout Handbook to read--I really want you to become familiar with the rules and customs of the scouts," said the Captain, seriously. "Suppose we have you read first of all, then go for a walk, and then if we are tired we can sit down and plan that sign," suggested Julie. So immediately after the breakfast things were cleared away, the group sat down beside the waterfall and Mrs. Vernon read. "On page 9 of the Handbook you will find this important information--it follows directly after the tenth law of Girl Scouts: "'Self-Improvement' "'A Great Law of Life.' "'One of the most fundamental laws of life is that, in the natural course of things, the influence of women over men is vastly greater than that of men over one another. "'This is what gives to girls and women a peculiar power and responsibility, for no Girl Scout or other honorable woman--whether young or old--could use her influence as a woman excepting to strengthen the characters and to support the honor of the men and boys with whom she comes in contact. "'This great law is nothing to make a girl feel proud or superior to men; but, on the contrary, the understanding of it should make her humble and watchful to be faithful to her trust. "'Be prepared, therefore, to do a true woman's full duty to her men by never allowing the desire for admiration to rule your actions, words, or thoughts. Our country needs women who are prepared. "'Prepared for what? "'To do their duty.'" Mrs. Vernon paused here and looked at the girls. "I did not read the full text on that article, because I want you each to buy a Handbook and study it yourself. I find there are so many fine thoughts expressed in this book that I doubt whether it is wise of me to read them aloud to you while your minds are filled with the novelty of camp-life. It may not have the lasting impression it should." "What comes next, Verny--anything about what scouts do on Sunday?" inquired Joan. The Captain smiled as it was evident that the girls were more concerned in doing what they were told scouts might do on Sundays, than they were in hearing about the ideals and aspirations of the scout order. "I now have to turn back to page four, where it says: 'It is not meant that Girl Scouts should play or work on Sunday, but that they may take walks where they can carry on a study of plants and animals.' This is all it says regarding Sunday occupation. So I suppose the organizers deemed it wisest to leave it to the discretion of the Captains and scouts in each individual group," commented Mrs. Vernon. "If that is all the book declares we have to do, then we are at liberty to obey the rule and yet have lots of ways of passing the day," said Joan. "I should say that reading rules and lessons from the Handbook was considered work," hinted Ruth. "Then we won't have any more of that kind of work," laughed the Captain, closing the book emphatically. "Good gracious, Ruth! Reading isn't work--particularly if the reading matter is wholesome as Girl Scout lessons must be. I should as soon say that listening to the preacher at church is not considered Sunday business, just because he lectures on certain interesting subjects connected with the Scriptures," argued Julie. "Oh, really, you make a 'mountain out of a mole-hill,' Julie, every time I open my mouth," retorted Ruth, impatiently. But the Captain interrupted this conversation before it gathered any added criticism, by saying: "I want to make a note for a bit of work to be attended to first thing in the morning, and then we will start for a nice walk. "I find there are a great many wide crevices between the logs of the hut, where rain and insects can enter; especially is this so at the back wall where the timbers rest against the rocky side of the cliff. "To obviate this discrepancy in building with uneven logs, we can fill in the chinks with clay. When that hardens it will act like a solid cement between the logs. "I prowled about yesterday and found a place down on the bank of the stream, where the clay was of the kind we need to use. We will bring some of it up to camp to-morrow, and after mixing it with water and sand, fill in the cracks in the walls. As it is now, should there be a heavy rain that would wash the water down over the cliff, the floods will pour in through the chinks of the log wall that is built against the rocks and run over the floor of your house." "We'll attend to that first thing, as you say, Verny; but let's hurry up, now, and get started for our walk," Joan said. After they had been walking for an hour or more, trying to name the various birds they saw, or tell about the peculiarities of woodland plants they found, Mrs. Vernon thought they had better start back for camp. "It is only half an hour to our usual dinner-hour, and it will take us that long to reach camp. Before we have our Sunday dinner cooked it will be an hour later than our usual time on week-days." "At least we will be fashionable, then," laughed Julie. "Every one has dinner an hour later on Sundays--that's why the men always complain." "It isn't because of style, Julie, but you know the men-folks never _will_ get up on Sunday mornings, and that sets back all the work. 'Liza says she's going to strike altogether about cooking Sunday dinners unless every one will get up just as they do on week-days," explained Betty, conscientiously. Her long harangue was greeted with appreciative laughter, but Betty looked from one to the other questioningly. Julie ran over and gave her a hug, and cried: "Her was a dear little lamb, so her was!" They were quite near camp when Joan happened to remember that she had forgotten to place the water-cress in the pan of water to keep it fresh. "Too late to cry over it now," said Julie. "It will be so wilted that we'll have to throw it away." "That leaves us without a salad as we had expected," Ruth complained. "Why didn't _you_ put it in water, then! You manage to find fault with everything that goes wrong, but I notice that you seldom do anything yourself!" snapped Joan. "Girls! I hear people talking--the sound comes from our camp-grounds!" exclaimed Mrs. Vernon, stopping to hold up a hand for silence. Every one stopped short and listened. Sure enough--there was a mingling of many voices. "Some one from Freedom using our camp?" wondered Ruth. "More likely a regiment of visitors!" said Joan. "That's just about it! All our families and relatives unto the third and fourth generation thereof," laughed Julie. "Perhaps they came for dinner!" gasped Mrs. Vernon, her sense of hospitality having a chill when she thought of the dinner for five only. "If they didn't bring their own dinners, they'll have to sit and watch us eat ours," declared Ruth. The hikers hastened to reach camp after this, and the first glance caused them to catch hold of each other for support. There, in possession of their sacred precincts, was such a crowd of family and friends that it seemed there could be little room for the real owners. "Did you ever! I think they might, at least, have asked if they would be welcome!" cried Ruth, with annoyance. "They must have missed us a lot," laughed Julie. The visitors now spied the scouts, and John gave a shout. "Hello! Did we surprise you? This was my idea, girls!" "I thought so! It's just like you," retorted Julie. But every one was glad to see every one else, even if the surprise party was a genuine one for the campers. Hand-shakings and family embraces took at least ten minutes before hosts and guests began to think of other things. "Had you only sent word, we might have prepared dinner," began Mrs. Vernon in apology. "Oh, we took care of all that," laughed Eliza, who was in charge of the camp-fire, with John, and Joan's brothers, to help. This attracted the Captain's eyes to her stove. There, on the stone-oven stood several large kettles, and others hung on the pole over the fire. The sight was such a relief that Mrs. Vernon's knees weakened and she sat down on the table-rock to collect herself. The visitors all laughed at her expression, and the girl scouts brightened suddenly. "Well, you certainly showed some sense!" exclaimed Joan. Every one laughed again. And Betty said in excuse: "You see we ran low for dinners this week 'cause we used so much time in building our house. Did you see it?" A loud chorus of approval and admiration came from the relatives who felt a great pride in the achievements of their girls. But the mothers looked anxiously at the daughters when they heard Betty speak of scarcity in the larder. Still the girl scouts showed no symptoms of starvation. They looked fine and must have added a pound each to their weight. "I rather thought such would be the case, with your camp so far from a store, so we brought a stock of food for this week," said Mrs. Bentley. "Now that is great, mother, because we can take that much more time in building a stable for Hepsy," cried Ruth, with real gratitude shining in her eyes. "Hepsy! Have you got that old nag here?" laughed John. "What did you bring her for?" wondered May. "To do the chores in camp," retorted Julie, laughingly. "What would we have done without her?" sighed Joan, as she remembered the hauling of the logs. Then the girls explained how they constructed the hut and what part Hepsy played in the work. They enlarged on the picnics and drives they were going to have, with Hepsy to furnish the motive power. The boys listened to the first part of the talk, but not being one of the party that expected to have the fine outings, they lost interest and ran off to see if dinner was ready. John came racing back, crying aloud so all could hear: "'Liza says you're all to sit down on the grass and hold your plates while's she passes the soup-kettle and serves you!" "Where are the dishes?" asked the girls of Mrs. Vernon, as John spoke. "They must have brought them. I see May and your father over there, carrying a wash-basket," whispered Mrs. Vernon. So it was. And as each visitor was handed a soup-plate, the advice was given out at the same time: "You've got to use the same plate and spoon for every other course, so don't look for clean dishes hereafter." The boys helped Eliza serve the soup, and when all were engaged in eating, one of the visitors remarked: "We saw quantities of wild strawberries down by the mountain-road as we walked by." "Whereabouts? We'll pick them to-morrow for dinner," said Joan, eagerly. The locality was carefully described, and the girls noted it for future investigation. There was so much laughing and talking after this that many of the young people forgot what they had for dinner. However, Eliza had provided enough for all, and the scouts were relieved of any responsibility thereby. "We're not going to spend the afternoon," May said to the scouts after dinner, "we just thought to surprise you and have dinner, then start for home again." Mrs. Allison added, as May finished speaking, "Yes, and we mothers felt sure you would be homesick after one week of camping. But I think we were the only ones feeling lonely. You seem to have had plenty to do to keep you from wanting to come back." "Don't worry about our feeling forlorn or homesick, mother. If we can break away from here when September comes, we'll be satisfied," replied Joan. Then Mr. Lee stood up on a stump and shouted: "Folks, it's about time to start back to the conventional ways of living. But before we go we ought to thank our hostesses for this good time. I only wish I was a girl scout with a summer in camp before me!" Every one clapped and, at a signal, gave three cheers for the Captain and her scouts. Then dishes were collected in the big basket, kettles stacked up in the hamper, and the visitors started down the road. Eliza drew Mrs. Vernon aside and whispered: "You'll find a lot of stuff I brought for cookin' this week. We got a peck of onions from a farmer, so I measured out half for youse. I found I could spare a large measure of pertaters, too, and you'll find them with th' onions. "I made a cake fer Sunday's supper fer you-all, and the jar of cookies I promised every week. Seein' as how there ain't no way fer a butcher to reach you, I packed up the roast lamb left from yesterday, and a slice of steak ready to be fried." "Oh, Eliza! what a wonderful fairy you are! Now we will have enough meat and bones to last a week. I won't waste a morsel!" Mrs. Vernon promised. The scouts had accompanied their visitors down the road, so Mrs. Vernon now walked with Eliza, a short distance behind the crowd. As they went, the maid laughingly explained: "That was why I insisted on servin' the dinner. Mis' Bentley and Mis' Allison wanted to help, but I knew they wouldn't be careful of left-overs like I would. And glad I am I did! "Why do you know, Mis' Vernon, there's enough salad dressin' left in a bowl in the store-room hut to last a week. An' soup, too, fer supper to-night fer all of you. Sandwitches--my! you kin eat sandwitches for three days' runnin'. Every speck of good cake what wasn't teched, I put carefully in the tin cracker-box, and many a snack the girls kin have between meals by that cake." "Eliza, I will tell the girls all you just told me, and I know they will be delighted. _I_ will thank you now, for them, as they will be busy saying good-by to every one after we join them." "That's all right, Mis' Vernon. Don't bother about thanks, 'cause it is my bis'ness to look after them girls' meals, anyway." But Mrs. Vernon thought how few maids of the present day thought as Eliza did. Would it not be to their own interests to consider their "business" a little more and thus win the gratitude and appreciation of the family? The visitors had come out in large jitneys hired for the afternoon, and when every one was crowded in and the two heavy autos were about to start, Mrs. Vernon exclaimed: "The next time you visit us, it will be at our invitation and expense. We will cook the dinner for the next picnic!" And Julie shouted in addition to the invitation: "Yes, but we'll only invite you in installments--not such a crowd at one time." CHAPTER NINE THE CABINET MAKERS When the last cloud of dust told the scout girls that their friends had disappeared down the road, they turned to the Captain. Julie evidently had an idea she wished to express. "Now that we have time, let's find that strawberry field and gather some for supper. It is allowable on Sunday, isn't it?" "If it's for use and not for pleasure, it is right," said the Captain. "Well, one can't exactly say it is for use, as one can do without berries; but they will taste mighty good with 'Liza's cake, you know," laughed Joan. "And we can honestly say they are not for pleasure," added Betty. "They are for gustatory pleasures," teased Mrs. Vernon. "Girls! Seeing our Captain is so particular, suppose we exempt her from any obligation she fears we might incur by picking berries on Sunday. I say, we will gather the fruit on our own responsibility but she shall not eat of that forbidden fruit, either," declared Julie, but at this point she was interrupted by Mrs. Vernon. "Oh, no, indeed! As your guardian and Captain, I cannot have you eat berries on Sunday unless I, too, participate!" With this form of banter they passed the time until the clearing in the woods was found where the berries grew in thick profusion. "Oh, my! what a lot of them!" exclaimed the girls, as they jumped the deep ditch and fell to picking the luscious fruit. "U-mm! Verny, you never tasted anything so delicious!" called Julie to the Captain who was seeking a safe spot to cross to the berry-patch. After a silent time during which every one seemed hard at work, Mrs. Vernon stood up and called out: "How many quarts have you ready for supper, girls?" Julie also stood up and laughed: "I am not sure how many quarts I can hold, but there is still room for some more." "We haven't any other holder to put the fruit in--that's why I am eating mine," said Ruth, in self-defense. "You'll not be able to say that in another few minutes. Now begin to pick and save the berries until I come again," said the Captain, going over to a clump of white birches. "I know what: she's going to strip some bark and make cornucopias for us to use," explained Joan, as she saw Mrs. Vernon tear strips from the trees. And that is just what she did. Each girl was given a deep cornucopia and soon the holders were full of berries. As each one had eaten plentifully of the fruit, as well, they were ready to start up the road again. "Girls, we can gather berries to eat every day and still have plenty to can," said the Captain, as they neared the camp. "To can! how could we can any out here in the woods?" "I'll show you. To-morrow when the man comes from Freedom for our Tuesday order, I will tell him to bring us a box of fruit jars. Then we will experiment on the berries. Wild fruit always is much sweeter than the cultivated kind." "I've been wondering what we can give our visitors for a dinner, should we try to cook for them without asking for supplies from home?" ventured Betty, who had been rather silent during the walk to camp. "I believe we can find enough good things right in the woods to give them, without falling back upon any store-food at all," replied Mrs. Vernon. The girls looked amazed, and Ruth said laughingly: "Then they'll have to eat grass!" "You wait and see! When I explain my menu you will be gratified, I think," said the Captain. It was found that Eliza had left enough soup in a pan so that, with heating, it was sufficient for supper. That, with the cake and berries, quite satisfied the girls. Then seated about the embers of the night-fire, they planned for work on the morrow. Monday morning, as soon as the usual work was finished, the campers began to mix the clay cement for the walls. Filling up the crevices kept them busy till noon, and then they were eager to get through with the dinner and start on something new. "Now that your new abode is finished, I wonder how you would like to fill it with furniture," suggested Mrs. Vernon. "Furniture! We haven't any here, and I doubt if our folks can spare anything they might have," Joan replied. "I meant for you to make it," responded the Captain. "Make it--what of, boxes like those in the magazine?" said Julie, laughingly. "You _almost_ guessed my plan! If you come with me, girls, I'll show you what I mean." Amazed but curious, the scouts followed Mrs. Vernon to the place where various boxes and barrels still waited to be used. These were examined and sorted by the Captain, then each girl was given one to carry up to the plateau beside the camp-ground. "Seems to me I remember reading about that Box Furniture, once," said Joan, dropping her burden upon the ground. "We'll see if we can remember well enough to apply it now," replied the Captain. "First I'll take this barrel. I'll saw it halfway through the center, like this." Mrs. Vernon then sawed and sawed until half the staves, where she had carefully drawn a pencil-line about the center of them, fell from one side and left the other halves attached to one head end. "See it now!" exclaimed she, standing the barrel on end. "That half where the staves are left will be the curved back of my easy-chair." The barrel-head which she had removed carefully from the end, that now was the top back of the chair, was secured upon the sawed staves to the center of the barrel and fastened to the back to make a seat. Then the remaining hoops were fastened securely to hold the bottom from spreading. "Now girls, if we had material to cushion it and pad the back, don't you think it would be comfortable?" said Mrs. Vernon. The girls laughed appreciatively, and declared it was fine! Then Julie had an inspiration. "Verny, I've got just the upholstery goods for the cushions!" The captain smiled for she wondered if this scout had thought of the same material she had planned to use later. "What is it?" demanded the other girls. "We'll take the burlap bag that came with Hepsy's oats, die it with some vegetable or wood dye, and stuff it with excelsior that came packed about the pans." "Oh, Julie! How did you ever think of it?" cried Betty, admiringly. "Just what I would have said, had you not found it out first!" declared Mrs. Vernon. "But I don't know where to find any dyes," admitted the scout. "I'll tell you of some later. Now I wonder if you girls want to use the large barrel and copy my chair. Yours will be larger, however, as my chair was only a half-barrel size, you know." Being only too anxious to copy Verny's chair, the four girls began work with a will. They took turns in sawing through the staves, even as they had been advised to do in building the hut, and this spared their muscles feeling lame or tired from the movement of the arm while sawing the hard wood. "I'll leave you now to finish the chair, while I hunt along the mountain trail to find certain dye materials," said the Captain, as the work on the chair progressed finely. But the barrel-chair was finished before Mrs. Vernon returned. "I couldn't find a thing that would do. I hunted most thoroughly, too. You see, it is too early for walnuts--if they were ripe we could stain the wood and burlaps a fine brown. Then I looked for different wild plants that will dye things, but there were none." "Verny, Eliza colors our Easter eggs with onion peel. I see you have a lot of onions in the store-room, but I am not sure they will color burlap," said Betty. "Just the thing, Betty! How wonderful of you to remember it. We will boil the skins until the water is a deep brown-orange and then we will try it on the burlap." The onions had to be peeled, and this was not a pleasant task, as eyes began to weep and the girls had to sniffle as they skinned the onions, but they were determined to finish their upholstery work as long as they had started it. The onion peels were placed over a fire to simmer slowly and the girls then went to work on the excelsior filling for the cushions. Meantime, Mrs. Vernon cut the burlap the required sizes to fit the seats of the chairs, and also cut oval panels for the backs. Well, the onion peel dyed the material a soft ochre color, and was tried on the barrel-wood too. But it failed to stain that. The cushions were tacked down with small tacks, and the chairs looked most inviting to the manufacturers. [Illustration: _The cushions were tacked down with small tacks_] Each scout took a turn in trying the chairs, and each pronounced them most luxurious, but Mrs. Vernon withheld such high praise as "luxury," saying instead "They're hard as rocks!" "_Now_ what can we build?" asked Ruth, showing intense interest in this form of occupation. Mrs. Vernon laughed. "Do you want to begin something else?" "Might as well, Verny. The hut has to be furnished now, as long as you have launched us along that line," Julie replied, laughingly. "A table is easy to build, but you have to cut down the material for the legs." "Where do table-legs grow--we'll cut them down," returned Joan, comically. "Wherever you find small birch-trees growing thickly together, you can cut one out. Never chop down a tree that stands alone, as it will mean shelter and shade in time to come. But a small tree can always be spared, if there are several growing in a group. The others will fare better for the thinning out." "How many shall we cut?" now asked Betty. "Bring four, each one about two inches in diameter. We will use the thickest end of each trunk for legs, the middle sections for chair-backs, and the smallest ends for arms." Provided with the ax, hatchet, and woodsman knife, the scouts started on their quest. After they had gone, Mrs. Vernon detached one side of a packing-case and removed any nails left in the wood. As this section of the case had reinforced pieces along the outer edges, it would be a strong table-top. The rest of the day was used in building the table, and a queer looking object was the result. It was a cross between a stool and a four-legged pedestal. It was rather wobbly, too, as Ruth had sawed one leg shorter than those made by her three scout companions. "It might tip over, Ruth, if a visitor leans upon it," said Mrs. Vernon. "We'll keep a stone under that leg. It won't joggle if it's boosted up," explained Ruth. "But the stone may slip out, or should one wish to move the table about, the stone will have to be carried about too." "Goodness me, Verny! What can I do? I can't stretch it!" cried Ruth, distractedly. Every one laughed, but the Captain said: "No, it won't stretch, but can't one of you scouts suggest a remedy?" When they realized that they all were called upon to share the responsibility of the tilting table, they puckered their foreheads and put on their thinking-caps. "I know! We'll tack a little end of the wood to the bottom of the leg," called Joan, excitedly. Ruth cast a scornful look at Joan, as much as to say: "I'd like to see any one sticking a block under that leg!" "Verny, we might take the leg off and saw a new one," suggested Betty. "We could, and I suppose that would be the only correct way to do it, but I am thinking of another and easier way," replied the Captain. "Oh! I guess I know! How will it do to saw all three legs off so they will be the same length as Ruth's short one?" exclaimed Julie, slapping her knee. Mrs. Vernon smiled for that was what she wanted the scouts to discover. At the same time, she was deeply interested in the fact that Julie always seemed to catch her thoughts and express them exactly as she might have done. This showed her that Julie was very mental, and was open to every good and helpful suggestion from thought-waves. That evening the Captain said: "It feels as if we might have rain soon. I hope it doesn't come before Wednesday, as I am conscious of neglecting an important work." "What is it?" cried four anxious voices. "Hepsy's shed. You see we were going to build her stable as soon as we completed the house, but we began our furniture instead. Hepsy had enjoyed the fresh air and fine pasturage on the plateau this last week, but she dislikes the rain." "Oh, dear! I forgot all about her shed," cried Betty. "So did we. If she only had complained now and then! But she went about her business so quietly!" sighed Joan. "Verny, if it rains we must invite Hepsy into our hut! If we neglected to build her shed because of our fine furniture, then she must be admitted to the palace itself!" said Ruth, decidedly. "That's what we will, Verny! Hepsy won't hurt the hut." And the Captain secretly exulted to find that Ruth was fast forgetting self in feeling responsibility for others--even a horse; while the other scouts thought nothing of their work unless it was put to some good use. But it did not rain that night, nor in the morning, although the sky was gray and overcast. Hepsy had a shed all built before the first drops fell late that afternoon; there were several liberal ventilation crevices between the logs of the sidewalls, however. The floor of the shed had been laid _à la corduroy_ style--as so many boggy roads are built upon in the west. The logs in this case were placed side by side in a bed of clay, and when the girls pressed down firmly upon the flooring, the clay oozed up between the joints and hardened there. In a few days the floor would be as solid as a rock and could be washed off with broom and water. Hepsy had more than enough dry leaves for a bedding that first night, as the scouts thought she might take cold if she slept on the damp floor. Mrs. Vernon smiled, but said nothing as she knew the heap of leaves would keep Hepsy from cutting the soft clay with her hoofs. When the flooring was hard and dry nothing could hurt it. Supper that night was rather a gloomy affair as everything was wet, and the fire would not burn. So they gathered in the hut and ate cold food. This started a discussion on fireplaces. "You said maybe there was a chance of building a chimney," ventured Joan. "Yes, but we have been doing so much, I forgot about it," confessed the Captain. "A fireplace would feel great on a night like this," said Julie. "Verny, if clay will harden in chinks of the walls, and make a solid flooring, why won't it hold stones together in a chimney?" now asked Ruth, eagerly. "It will, if we can find stones that will fit properly. I wouldn't attempt to do the mason work with round cobble-stones such as are used in most chimneys in bungalow houses." "Did you mean it when you said a chimney might be built if we leaned it against the rocky wall back of the rear wall of the hut?" asked Joan. "No, I was only fooling when I spoke of leaning it--because a chimney has to be most accurately constructed or it will smoke one out of the place." "Let's build the chimney to-morrow!" begged Ruth, eagerly. "Oh, my dears! We haven't done anything but build--build--build since we've been here. There are so many other things I want you to do that a chimney can wait." "If we agree to do what other things you want us to, why can't we use the forty-five minutes of recreation that is ours each day to build the chimney?" persisted Ruth. Mrs. Vernon laughed. But the eager faces of the girls showed her they were in earnest. Besides, what difference did it make in the end whether she was teaching them to build a stone chimney or how to mend a pair of stockings? If it was true work and done with the right motive back of it, it was progressive. So she finally said: "All right, you may have two hours a day for chimney work, and the rest we will devote to my pursuits." "Hurrah! we ought to finish the chimney in three days!" exclaimed Julie. Thus the second week passed quickly away. The little stone chimney was finished and presented a very artistic addition to the room. But it became so much smaller as it rose higher, that at the top it was only large enough for a tiny opening for the escape of smoke. Unfortunately, this caused the fireplace to smoke dreadfully when a fire was started, but once the bed of embers was well started, an additional bit of wood judiciously used did not cause every one to choke and run from the room. In one of the hikes, the scouts had found a wild grapevine, but it had been severed from the root, and hung from the tree-trunk without leaves or fruit. It was more than an inch thick, so Mrs. Vernon had the girls carefully cut it down and carry it back to camp. "The graceful curves of this twisted vine will make the prettiest chair imaginable, with back, arms and legs entwined, and holding up the seat of boards. Smaller bits of the gnarled vine will make flower-brackets, rustic hanging-baskets, and also a cord by which to suspend the signboard of Dandelion Camp," remarked the Captain. "If we only had a Turkish rug for the floor, our hut would look wonderful!" sighed Joan, admiring the latest additions. "Why cry for the moon when you can have the sun?" laughed Mrs. Vernon. "What do you mean? Did you bring a rug?" asked Joan, quickly. "Oh, we forgot that crex mat, didn't we? Do you suppose it is still down in the bushes?" asked Betty, anxiously. "I quite forgot it myself, girls. But that was not what I meant just now. The moment Joan mentioned a rug, I thought of something I read about in the Handbook. We ought to weave a mat of grass or willows for that palace." "If we only could! It would be so in keeping," said Betty, softly, that her voice would not interrupt the others who were loudly acclaiming this idea from the Captain. "I wish to goodness Sunday were a week away so we could finish up all the fine plans we have started," sighed Ruth. "Well, Ruth, only _our_ folks are coming out this Sunday, you know, and we needn't mind them much. If it wasn't that we needed 'Liza's cake and bread and other things, we could have postponed the call for a week," said Betty, condolingly. As usual, Betty's candor made them laugh, and Mrs. Vernon said: "Yes, I fear our invitation had an awfully big string to it this week." CHAPTER TEN A FOURTH OF JULY OUTING Saturday night the scouts and Mrs. Vernon planned the dinner for the next day. "We'll use some of those onions, and cut potatoes into dice to add to them; then I'll take a small can of tomatoes, some rice and a bit of bacon, and make a good chowder of the whole. If we only had a few of the little fish Joan caught the other day, they would give it a fine flavor," suggested the Captain. "You said we might open a jar of our strawberry preserve, Verny," reminded Julie. "Yes, but not for a course; it is too precious for anything but dessert." "After the chowder, what can we have?" asked Ruth. "We'll boil that artichoke root we dug up this morning. When that is seasoned it tastes just like salsify. If Eliza doesn't bring any meat, we can run along the mountain-path and cut one of the beefsteak mushrooms I showed you yesterday. I doubt if your folks will be able to tell the difference between it and a tenderloin steak," the Captain said, chuckling. "My, won't they be surprised when they see all we have learned in two weeks!" exclaimed Betty, proudly. "I hope it doesn't rain to-morrow," ventured Julie. "Yes, 'cause we've got to have Eliza's supplies!" added her twin sister. "Can you think of anything else that's novel, Verny, for dinner?" asked Joan. "We can cut enough dandelion leaves in the morning to have a salad"; Mrs. Vernon glanced doubtfully at Ruth as she spoke. Ruth caught the look and laughed: "Are you afraid I am going to boil over because you mentioned dandelions?" "Well, I didn't know how you might take it?" "I'll confess; I'd just as soon call the camp 'dandelion' as anything else, for now I appreciate what that digging did for us." "I'm so glad, Ruthy; now I can paint that sign. Do you know girls why I refused to hang out the sign you wanted? It was because we were not unanimous in the selection of a name. As Ruth's objection is removed I will have the sign ready for next Sunday when the Allisons and Bentleys visit us." "Did you save that fine ash board you selected the very first day we came here?" asked Ruth. "Yes, and to-morrow I'll show it to you--ready to burn." "Burn?" came from four girls. "Yes; I am going to etch the name 'Dandelion Camp' in the wood with a red-hot poker, and sketch the dandelions about the name in pyrography, also. Then we can tint the flowers and leaves. You haven't any idea how soft and beautiful the burnt tones blend with yellow and green paints." "It sounds fascinating--I wish I could do it," said Joan. "You each may practice and when you can handle the iron well enough, you might try to do little things like book-ends or wall-brackets." "We got as far on the bill-of-fare as dandelion salad, Verny, and then switched off on something new--as usual," laughed Julie. "That was the end of my menu, as far as I could provide any," returned the Captain. Sunday morning it was decided to go for the beefsteak mushrooms and cook them for dinner, even if Eliza brought meat. In that case, they would keep the meat for dinners the following days and give the visitors a treat by having tenderloin steak (?). Ruth proved her statement that she had outgrown her dislike of dandelions by offering to cut enough plants for the salad. When she returned to camp she had a fine mess of young leaves, and after washing them clean, left them in cold water until wanted. Joan and Julie had offered to get up early and go for berries. Mrs. Vernon was dubious about berry-picking being in order for scouts on Sunday, when there was enough dessert already on hand. "But why not? It is wholesome study of nature's own fruit, you know," argued Joan. "Verny, we really must have a dessert for those who do not like preserves, you know. Otherwise father will eat the whole jar of our strawberry preserves," added Julie. So the two girls prevailed over the Captain's mild scruples and hurried down the road to the strawberry field. Before the Lee family arrived, everything was done and ready for their reception. Eliza, as anticipated, had smuggled a host of good things into the surrey, and when Mr. Lee and May were listening to all that the scouts had accomplished during the week, she transferred the larder hidden in the harness box of the surrey to the camp-larder in the old hut. As they sat down to dinner, John began showing symptoms of disapproval of his soup (chowder, the scouts called it), and carefully placed his dish upon the rock before him. "The chowder smells delicious, girls," said May, as the aroma rose to her nose. "It's just as good as it smells, too," said Julie. "Is every one served now, Jule?" called Joan, who was waitress for the day. "Yes, and all anxious to begin--hurry and sit down," Julie replied. Joan took her plate and sat down nearest the board from which she had to serve the dinner. John waited smiling knowingly as he sat and watched the others. Mr. Lee was the first to take a spoonful of chowder. He frowned for a moment, then took a second taste. His mouth puckered and he looked questioningly at Eliza as if to ask her what was wrong with it. May had already taken her spoonful and immediately cried: "For goodness sake! Who cooked this chowder?" "Verny--why?" hastily asked the girls. "Why? Well just taste it!" Every one had had a good mouthful by this time and every one looked at the Captain reproachfully. "Really! I'm sure I didn't salt this chowder as heavily as this! I tasted it just before you arrived and it was delicious," exclaimed Mrs. Vernon in self-justification. Joan now looked dreadfully concerned. She tasted the soup and then made a wry face. But she was not going to have any one falsely accused, so she spoke up: "Verny, you know when you told me to salt something-or-other, I thought you meant chowder; so I put in as much as I felt it needed. Maybe I misunderstood you." "Oh, Joan! I called to you and said _not_ to salt the chowder because I saw you seasoning everything you could find!" Joan looked so woe-begone that every one laughed, and Betty said regretfully: "It's too bad, Joan, 'cause the chowder was cheap so it was to be the filler, you know. Now we won't have enough dinner without eating our preserves." That made every one scream with merriment, and the salty soup was passed by without further reproach. While waiting for the steaks (?) John cleared his throat as a signal, and said: "You won't see _me_ here again this summer." "Why not?" queried his sisters. "'Cause I'm going to camp on Wednesday--Daddy fixed it with the Master at our gym." "Going to wash dishes?" teased Julie, winking at Eliza. "Nope! But I'm going to keep the grounds clean. I have to pick up papers and see that nothing is littered around. Every time I leave trash about, I get fined, so I'll have to be awake." "What splendid practice that will be for you, Johnny. When you come back home, you ought to have the habit so strong that Eliza won't have to run after you at every step," declared Julie. "I know John will make a fine scout for that work," added Betty. Being a regular boy, John wouldn't thank Betty for her kind words but he mentally decided that she was a bear! The beefsteak mushrooms were a great success and no one could tell what they were eating. Boiled potatoes, artichokes, dandelion salad with Eliza's French dressing, and a gravy of browned flour, made a fine dinner to go with the steak. Then followed the berries and generous slices of fresh layer cake brought from home. When dinner was over, John frowned and said: "Is this all we get?" "All! my goodness, isn't it enough?" demanded Julie. "Not for Sunday's dinner. I bet we'll have a regular feast at _our_ camp, all right!" "You couldn't have such cake if you baked for ages!" retorted Julie. "Cake--pooh! Fellers don't want cake. We want man's dinners," bragged the boy. "I noticed you ate every crumb, just the same!" "That's 'cause I am hungry and had to." "Seein' es how yuh despise my cake, I'll see you don't have to eat none of it whiles you are at camp," said Eliza, at this point of the altercation between brother and sister. John gasped, for he had already boasted to his boy-chums who were going to camp with him that _he_ could have cakes and lots of goodies sent to him every week! That afternoon the visitors were escorted about the woods; every beautiful nook and dell was duly admired, and when it came time for good-bys both sides felt that they had had a fine visit. "We'll look forward to coming again _when_ it is our turn," observed Mr. Lee, as he climbed into the surrey. "We'll be looking as anxiously for you as you will for us," Betty replied. May grinned, for she understood why they would be welcomed. But Ruth said hurriedly: "S-sh! My mother's coming next and she won't let your family outdo her in bringing goodies. May, do tell her all you brought to-day." Every one laughed at that frank confidence, and the Lees drove away feeling happy and proud of the way their girls were improving under the scout life. As they trudged back up the hill, Joan said: "Is any one expected for the Fourth?" "Not that I know of--I forgot the Fourth comes this week," Mrs. Vernon replied. "What can we do, Verny? We haven't any fire-works," said Betty. "We'll have to think out a suitable plan with which to celebrate the National Birthday." That evening about the camp-fire, it was discussed and finally voted upon to go for a long outing on the Fourth. "But where? We don't want to go down into civilization, you know," said Ruth. "Can't we pack up a dinner and go away off somewhere?" suggested Joan. "We can drive Hepsy and ride in the buckboard," added Julie. "Hepsy hasn't had much exercise lately, and she's getting too lazy; it will do her good to thin down somewhat," laughingly said Mrs. Vernon. "Verny, did you ever hear of Bluebeard's Cave, 'way back on this mountain?" asked Julie, glancing slyly at her companions. "I have, but how did you hear of it?" "Now you've got to tell her!" exclaimed Betty, while Joan and Ruth tried to hush her. "What does this mean--what is there to tell, scouts?" asked Mrs. Vernon, seriously. "Oh, it isn't anything--much. Only a little joke we had on you a long time ago," began Joan, stammeringly. "Better tell me all about it and end it," advised Mrs. Vernon, not a little surprised, for she wondered if the girls had ever tried to find the cave, which she knew to be dangerous without a grown person or a lantern to guide them. "Do you remember the day we built the roof on the hut?" asked Julie, giggling. "Yes, it was the neatest work you ever did--before or since." "But we didn't do it!" exclaimed Ruth, also giggling. "You didn't! Then who did!" gasped the Captain, amazed. The girls laughed merrily. This was just the sort of a surprise they had looked for. They never thought of the danger in the cave that had worried the Captain, so there was no reason why they should not laugh and enjoy the joke. Mrs. Vernon saw immediately that there was no ground for her fear, so she managed to laugh too. "What is the joke, girls?" "You had no sooner gone, that day, when a young woodsman came across the plateau. He lives way back on the last crest," began Joan, eagerly, but Julie interpolated with: "In winter he traps fur-bearing animals and sells the pelts. He was out hunting that day. He had a gun in his hands and a loaded revolver in his belt." "He asked us if we weren't afraid to camp here alone," added Betty. "And we laughed at him. We told him you were always with us, so we were not alone." "He then said, we ought to have a big dog to keep away tramps, but we said he was the first stranger we ever saw about. Then we showed him our hut and the roof we had to make. But he laughed." "Yes, he laughed, because he said we were doing it wrong. Then he leaned the gun against a tree and showed us how to roof the place properly," said Ruth. "He told us always to place a gun with the barrel aiming up or down. Never to lean it sideways or lay it on the ground. He told us how many hunters are accidentally killed through carelessness in handling their firearms," explained Betty. "He said he wanted to see you and tell you something, so he waited around, but finally he had to go. We made each other promise not to tell you that day as we wanted you to think we did the fine roof," concluded Julie, laughing merrily. "Do you know what he wanted to see me for?" asked Mrs. Vernon, finding an entirely different cause for concern, since she heard this story. "Nothing, I guess, unless he wanted to get orders for a fur coat next winter," said Joan, smiling as if to invite a laugh at her wit. "Oh, no, Joan. He didn't look like that at all," said Betty, reprovingly. "I think he wanted to tell Verny where there might be dangerous places in the mountains, 'cause he warned us not to stray away alone at any time; but we don't need him for that, 'cause we don't wander off, like he does," added Julie. "And he told you about Bluebeard's Cave, eh? What did he say about it?" "We asked him if there were any wonderful places in this mountain that we could visit some day. He told us of a place known as 'Bluebeard's Cave' that was about twelve miles away, but he said we ought to make a day's trip of it, 'cause it was so fine," explained Joan. "We'll consider going there some day, but I do wish this young man had waited to talk with me," murmured the Captain. The days preceding the Fourth, the scouts completed a rustic book-shelf, several original ornaments such as no one could possibly name, and having woven a small grass rug, they felt that the hut was better than any king's castle. The morning of the Fourth was cloudless and the scouts were up earlier than usual. It had been decided upon, before going to bed the night before, that the trip to Bluebeard's Cave would be an interesting outing if the party got away in time to have a full day for the outing. Hepsy was feeling most frisky because she had had so little exercise the past week; two of the girls led her to the buckboard and hitched her securely, while the other two slid the adjustable rear seat into the grooves meant for it along the sides of the vehicle. As they did so, Joan noticed the edge of one groove seemed splintered. Mrs. Vernon and the scouts had packed the hamper with a good luncheon, and now the Captain placed the basket in front of the three girls who took possession of the back seat. The other scout sat on the front seat beside the driver. Hepsy jogged along at her own sweet will, and all the chirruping and switching of the reins failed to bring forth one added bit of speed. "I think Hepsy's awful mean to go so slow! We'll _never_ get there at this rate," complained Ruth. "And after the royal way we have treated her, too! Why, one'd think the old nag was tired to death!" added Joan. "I wish we had tied a feed bag to her nose--then she'd show some speed," laughed Julie. "Maybe the climb is too steep for her. I know I wouldn't want to pull five folks and a wagon up this grade," said Betty. "Oh, pshaw! If Hepsy thinks this is steep what will she do when we come to the last mountain climb," asked Mrs. Vernon, exasperated with urging the horse onwards. Julie laughed as she said, "She'll let the buckboard run backwards on that hill." "Serve her right if we pull her over on her haunches and drag her down with us," added Joan. With such complaints and banter, the scouts reached a steep ascent. Hepsy brought the party to the foot of the hill and then stopped. All the urging and switching failed to make her move a foot. "Girls, you'll have to get out and walk up--Hepsy used to play this trick on us long ago, but she has forgotten it during the last few years; or perhaps, she hadn't the occasion to use it until to-day," laughed Mrs. Vernon. The scouts joined in the laugh, but jumped out to see if Hepsy would start. The wise old horse turned her head, and finding several of her passengers were out of the buckboard, continued on up the grade. When they came to the level again, the horse would stop long enough to allow the passengers to get back on the seat. But they had to jump out again when Hepsy reached the next grade. This amused the scouts tremendously; they laughed and enjoyed the way the wise old animal balked about pulling them up the hills. But Mrs. Vernon had an idea. "Girls, the next grade we come to, you three jump out and wait for Hepsy to start on her way, then instantly climb up on the tailboard and sit there. We'll see if she minds the extra weight, or if she is just whimsical." So Hepsy halted as usual when she came to the next grade and the scouts did as the Captain suggested. They sat on the back of the buckboard floor, swinging their feet and laughing wildly at the way the horse jogged on up the hill, believing that they were walking. Having reached the top, Hepsy waited, as was her custom, for the girls to climb in, but they merely crept over the back of the seat and then shouted: "Gid'dap!" Perhaps it was this pulling and scrambling that moved the seat from the splintered groove, or perhaps it had not been securely slid into place when the two girls adjusted it. No one knew it had worked its way out of the slot and now was merely sitting on top of the side-rails; but the combined weight of the three girls held it firmly while the buckboard ran over level ground. So elated were the scouts over the success of their hoax that they determined to repeat the trick at the next ascent. They sang and shouted with exuberant spirits, so that Mrs. Vernon had to hold her ears with both hands, while Betty drove. But Hepsy became annoyed at such unseemly hilarity, and switched her tail impatiently several times. Still the scouts kept on laughing and shouting, so Hepsy expressed her irritation in starting to run. The added speed only made the scouts laugh and shout louder, and Hepsy ran faster. As this was exactly what they all had wanted for an hour past, the girlish voices rang merrily over the hills and came back in mad echoes. Now Hepsy determined she would not stand for such nonsense, but there was the steepest ascent of all just ahead. It was the last, but longest, on the mountainside. Hepsy's run turned into a gallop that rocked the vehicle from side to side, so that Betty could not control the animal. Mrs. Vernon hastily took the reins and tried to soothe the horse, but it seemed as if Hepsy said: "No, you laughed at the way I was fooled, so now I will have my turn!" The three girls on the rear seat had to cling to each other to avoid being rolled out of the buckboard; still they never dreamed that much of the swaying was due to the seat being free from the clutch of the grooves. Just ahead, Mrs. Vernon saw a huge flat bowlder which would prove an awful jolt unless Hepsy could be guided so as to avoid it. The Captain tugged with all her strength on the left rein, but the stubborn horse kept straight on. Suddenly the front wheel struck the rock and the vehicle went up on one side and down on the other. With the mighty lurch, the seat toppled over, and the three occupants were shot into the bushes and grass growing beside the woodland path. The hamper rolled off afterward and stood upside down in the road. Once over the obstacle, however, the buckboard righted itself again, and Hepsy kept galloping on as if her life depended upon it. All the shouting and yanking at the reins, that the Captain was capable of, had no effect on the animal. She climbed the ascent in a galloping pace, and never stopped until the pathway ended in front of the Cave. Then she stood heaving and breathing as if every gasp would be her last. Mrs. Vernon and Betty jumped and looked with fear and trembling at what had happened to the three scouts so unceremoniously tipped into the woods. At the foot of the steep climb, the three girls were seen struggling to carry the hamper up to the Cave. But they were laughing so they could not lift the heavy basket. The Captain made a megaphone of her hands and shouted: "Never mind! Leave the hamper. We can have dinner down there." Thankfully then, the scouts placed the hamper in the ferns beside the road, and climbed up to the height where the others stood. "I never saw such an old fraud in my life!" exclaimed Mrs. Vernon, when the girls came within hearing of her voice. "Are you all right, girls?" asked Betty, anxiously. "Yes, but weak from laughing," shouted Joan. "Oh, if I ever get a chance to pay Hepsy back!" threatened Ruth, angrily. "Verny? I'd give my hat if we could only have had a movie taken of this whole episode," added Julie, still giggling. "I shall never accuse Hepsy of being a silly beast again," said Mrs. Vernon, once she was satisfied there were no bruises or other injuries to the girls. CHAPTER ELEVEN IN BLUEBEARD'S CAVE The buckboard was drawn out of the path and left beside the cave; then Hepsy was unhitched and tethered to a tree with enough rope to allow her to graze. But she kept turning her head to look quizzically at the scouts, as much as to say: "Huh! you thought you had played a trick on me, but I managed to turn the tables, after all!" "Verny, Hepsy's got a wicked gleam in her eyes, just as if she dumped us out on purpose," laughed Julie, slapping the horse on the shoulder. Mrs. Vernon was too busy unpacking a pasteboard box to reply, so the scouts stood about her asking questions about the package. "I brought a number of thick candles and a box of matches. Each one of you girls must carry a candle, while I go first and carry the electric flashlight," explained Mrs. Vernon. "How exciting!" cried Joan, trying to light her candle. "Just like explorers in an unknown jungle," added Julie. "Caves, I should say, Jule," corrected Ruth, laughingly. "Well, are we all ready?" now asked the Captain, seeing that each scout had the candle lighted. "All ready for the great adventure," laughed Julie. In the first lap of the exploration nothing unusual occurred as the footpath ran over smooth stone and sand, while the vaulted ceiling and sidewalls were far enough away to make the cave seem really larger than it was. "It doesn't make one feel very spooky," said Ruth. "Let's wait until we get in where the water drips and the queer formations hang from the roof. That is where the hunter said the weirdness of the place impressed you," explained Julie. They continued deeper into the mountainside, and the air felt cooler, while the domed tunnel grew perceptibly smaller. The girls were silent now, being very careful to follow closely behind the Captain. "I think it is quite spooky enough for me," whispered Betty, taking hold of Mrs. Vernon's skirt. "If you feel this way, now, what will you do when we get away in!" laughed Julie. The laugh echoed madly and hurled its sounds back again at the scouts, and the entire party stopped suddenly with fright. "Oh! It was only an echo of Julie's laugh," sighed the Captain, in relief. "But what a horrible maniac's cry it was!" gasped Joan. Betty was shivering with nervousness, when Julie again laughed, to hear the echoes come back. "_Please_ don't do that!" cried Ruth, closing her ears, and at the same time dropping the candle. Its light was extinguished, and the candle must have rolled into some crevice, for it could not be found, even though the flashlight and other candles were used to hunt for it. "You'll have to creep close beside me," said Julie, linking Ruth's arm through hers. The cave now narrowed down so that they had to stoop to go on. About fifty feet further, the tunnel forked. Two separate tubes ran at diagonal lines with each other. "Which shall we take first?" asked Joan, comparing the two openings. "'My mother told me to take this one,'" counted Julie, her finger pointing to each tunnel alternating on each word she spoke. It was the right-hand opening that was on the last count. Mrs. Vernon laughed. "Well, we will go this way and see why your 'mother told you to take this one.'" The scouts laughed, too, but the echoes failed to ring back as repeatedly as in the front tunnel. "That means we are near the end of this tube," said Joan. "I'm glad of it! I don't like to be away in here," admitted Betty. "The roof is coming down to bump our heads, Verny," said Julie, who was now leading. "Then we must soon retrace our steps and take the other tube, as this was the short one that leads nowhere. The other must be the tube that leads to the stalactite cave," said Mrs. Vernon. The scouts proceeded a few feet further but the aperture was becoming too small to follow comfortably, and the Captain said: "Well, we may as well turn around, girls." As she spoke a low moan seemed to come from the ground, and the girls huddled close to the Captain. "What was it, Verny?" whispered Julie, fearfully. Mrs. Vernon gravely turned her flashlight over the walls and ceiling of the rocky tunnel, then moved it slowly over the ground about them. Just when the scouts began to feel courageous again, thinking the sound was some other form of hallucination in the cave, the light fell upon a form doubled up against the side of the rocky wall. The scouts saw it about the same time the Captain did, and four high-pitched, excited young voices screamed fearfully, causing the tunnel behind them to echo with ear-splitting yells of terror. Even Mrs. Vernon shivered at the uncanny sight and sounds. Betty and Ruth had hidden their faces in the Captain's skirt, as if this would defend them from danger. But Julie and Joan stood their ground beside the Captain, trying to peer in advance of their position to see what the form could be. "Is he drunk?" whispered Joan. "Maybe he is murdered," ventured Julie, causing the others to shiver again. "No--he moaned, so he is not dead. I must find out what is the matter," replied the Captain, bracing herself for the unpleasant task. "Oh, Verny! Please don't!" wailed Betty. "He may be hoaxing us like Hepsy did--better call to him and tell him we haven't a jewel or a cent with us," cried Ruth. But the form remained inanimate. Not another sound was heard other than the cries and talking of the scouts. Mrs. Vernon went over slowly, keeping the electric light directly upon the form. The two other girls held their candles so that the footpath showed distinctly, as they walked beside the Captain. Ruth and Betty clung to each other where they had been left standing. "Here! Get up!" ordered Mrs. Vernon, pushing the body gently with her foot. But there was no sound or motion from the form. The coat had been removed, but the undergarments looked like good ones, so Mrs. Vernon stooped down the better to see. The right arm was so bent upwards that it covered the face, and it seemed as if the man was sleeping that way. "Wake up! Do you hear me?" called the Captain, again. The fearful quiet was the only effect of the second demand, so then Mrs. Vernon carefully removed the arm from the face. "Oh!" shrieked Julie and Joan, falling back suddenly, and even the Captain cried with horror. "Help! Help!" screamed Ruth, not sure of what was happening to her friends. But the movement of the arm must have caused an instance of consciousness in the man, as he made another faint sound like a sigh or a moan. "Girls, something has happened to this man, and we have to use our scout-sense to try and carry him out to the air," said Mrs. Vernon, turning to the girls. "Oh, dear me! I'm afraid to go any nearer. He may die if we move him," said Joan, fearfully. "He'll surely die if left here alone. It may be days or even weeks before any party again visits this Cave," said Mrs. Vernon, emphatically. "How terrible! We just can't let him die, then," admitted Julie. "Do we have to help you?" wailed Ruth, from the rear. "Betty and you will have to carry the lights, while we three try to carry him," answered the Captain. "If only we had a blanket!" sighed Julie. "It would have been so easy to make a stretcher, then," added Joan. "We'll have to contrive one from my skirt, girls. I have a full skirt on, and the pleats at the belt can quickly be ripped out." Even as she spoke, Mrs. Vernon slipped off the plaid skirt and began pulling at the belt. But it was well-sewed and would not give way. "Here, let me chew open some of the stitches," said Joan. "No, no! I have an idea--let me burn the threads with the candle-flame," called Julie. "Good! Now touch it right there," said the Captain, as she held the belt over the flame. In a few moments, the scorched and smoking skirt belt gave way to the strength of the pull Mrs. Vernon used on it, and once the stitching began, it easily ripped across the entire width. "That scorching also reminds me, girls! I've heard said that smoking wool will revive a fainting person. We will try it as soon as we have him out of this smothering place," said the Captain. An impromptu stretcher was then contrived of the skirt, and the three bearers lifted the unconscious man upon it. They managed to carry the form over to the spot where Betty and Ruth held the lights, but the moment Ruth saw the gash on the head, and the blood trickling from it, she screamed and clung to Betty. "Don't, Ruth--don't hang on to me like that!" wailed Betty. "I'm going to faint, if you don't let go of me!" "Betty Lee! You'd better not!" cried Julie, desperately. "We haven't time to hold you up and try to revive you," added Joan. "Children, start ahead and show us the way, or we'll all be taken to Court to testify why we let this man die," ordered the Captain, hoping by such awe-inspiring words to make Betty and Ruth see the necessity of self-control. Ruth managed to take the extra candle from Betty's shaking hand, and say: "Come on, Betty, we'll both be in jail for murder if we don't." As this was Ruth's interpretation of Court, and it seemed to have the desired effect, Mrs. Vernon thought best not to correct her. The two frightened girls led the way with the lights and the three bearers of the still unconscious form followed. Finally they reached the open, and the man was placed upon the grass near the Cave entrance. "If he doesn't regain his senses in a few moments, we will have to try that burnt wool," said Mrs. Vernon, watching the patient very closely, while the scouts bathed his head with the water they had brought in a bottle. But the fresh air seemed to have the hoped-for effect, for the man heaved a deep sigh and slowly opened his eyes. At first he merely stared right up at the green foliage of the trees, but as his strength came back, he tried to see who was bathing his forehead. "Do you feel better, now?" inquired Mrs. Vernon, softly. The man tried to speak but couldn't, so Julie whispered: "Maybe he's been in there for days, and needs food." "Some of you girls run and bring the hamper up," said Mrs. Vernon, but the patient had heard. "No--all right," he managed to gasp. After what seemed an eternity to the scouts, the man had survived far enough to sit up and lean against the front seat of the buckboard which the girls had removed and carried over. "I fear you have had a bad accident," said the Captain. "Do you know what happened to you in the Cave? Maybe you fell from a shelf of rock." "No--tramps did it." The girls cried out, but the Captain gave them a severe look that quieted them at once. Then she held the cup of water for the man to sip, and he freshened up visibly. "Girls, all four of you go for the hamper, as we must eat our dinner up here. You can take turns in carrying it, you know," said the Captain. The scouts preferred to hover about and hear about the tramps, but Mrs. Vernon's word was law, so they started down the hill. On the way, Ruth said, complainingly: "We ought to hitch that lazy old horse to the buckboard and make her pull the load up the hill." "She'd balk halfway up, Ruth, and make us pull _her_ up the rest of the way," retorted Julie, laughingly. Mrs. Vernon fanned the cut and bruised face, and wished the man could tell who he was. As if in answer to her thoughts, he whispered: "Did you find my card-case in the coat pocket?" "No, the tramps who maltreated you so, stole everything." The man was not yet aware that he was in his shirt-sleeves, but now he glanced at himself and frowned. "I beg your pardon, but you see my appearance is unavoidable," murmured he, while a flush rose to his pale face. "Oh, don't think of form just now--let us help you back to a normal state as soon as possible," replied Mrs. Vernon, earnestly. "I am a stranger in these parts, having left the train that goes to New York, because I heard there were some marvelous caves of stalactite formation in this mountain. I was told to find a young hunter on top of this crest who would guide me," whispered he. "But I must have missed my way, as I found myself at the Cave itself, before I even found the trail that goes to the hunter's cabin. I had a grip which I left outside, and taking my flashlight out of it, I started in alone." The speaker rested a few moments, then continued: "As I reached the branch where the two tunnels fork, I heard voices. So I hailed, thinking it might be the hunter escorting a party through the Cave. Then suddenly the voices were silenced. "That should have warned me that all was not right, but I hurried on, hoping to meet some one. Instead I suddenly was struck directly in the face with a sharp rock. The blow staggered me, but I leaned against the wall, until two hard-looking villains crept along the tunnel thinking I was unconscious. "One of them had on stripes, so I judged they were escaped convicts. I fought them off, but the blows from a cudgel and the loss of blood from the gash made by the rock, weakened me so that I remember no more until I opened my eyes and found you bending over me." "How horrible! But how grateful we are that we visited the Caves to-day. What day was it that you went in there?" "Let me think: I left the train at the Junction on the evening of July third, and stopped at a country inn for the night. Early on the Fourth I climbed the mountains, and visited the Cave. What day is it now?" "Why this is the Fourth still! You must have been attacked but a short time before we found you. It is now noon," exclaimed Mrs. Vernon, showing her dread of lurking rascals by calling to the girls to hasten up the hill. "Thank heavens! Then we may catch them before they get out of the country," said the man. "My name is Mrs. Vernon, and I am camping in these woods with my girl scouts. But I should dread having them go about alone after this." "My name is Mr. Gilroy, and I certainly feel greatly obliged to your scouts and to you, Madame, for your aid." "If only we were not so far from camp, or such a long ride to Freedom. You could have medical attention there, and notify the police of this assault." "My dear Madame! I, too, have been an enthusiastic camper and can help myself better than the physicians can. Give me a few hours' rest, and I will be as well as ever," said Mr. Gilroy. The scouts now came puffing up with the hamper, registering many threats against Hepsy for her untimely trick. As they came over and stood beside the Captain, she introduced them to Mr. Gilroy. They were delighted to find him so far recovered, and they said so in girlish words and expressions. The scouts displayed as hearty an appetite as if nothing unusual had happened, but Mrs. Vernon was too concerned over the news of some tramps being at large to enjoy her dinner; she put two and two together and decided that this was what the young hunter wished to warn her about. Mr. Gilroy seemed to like the eager attendance on him shown by the girls, but he ate sparingly of all the many goodies they urged upon him. When the dinner was over, Mrs. Vernon said: "We must leave the hamper hidden somewhere, girls, and call back for it another day. The back seat we must leave here, also." "Why?" asked the scouts, wonderingly. "Because we must contrive some sort of couch on the floor of the buckboard for Mr. Gilroy; you girls will sit on either side, or at the back of the buckboard. I can manage to crowd in one extra scout on the front seat. As Ruth is the slenderest one, I think it had better be she and Betty for the front seat, while Joan and Julie mount guard over their patient." The girls seemed to think the plan a good one, so the hamper and extra seat were soon hidden inside the Cave. CHAPTER TWELVE AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE When dinner was cleared away, Mrs. Vernon and the scouts gathered young spruce tips from the trees growing so profusely near the Cave. These were woven into a soft springy mattress on the floor of the buckboard, by placing a row of tips where the head would be. The next row of tips was so placed that the stems ran under the soft resisting tops of the former row. So on, row after row was woven, until the floor of the vehicle was covered. Mr. Gilroy was then helped up and partly carried over to the spruce-bed. He had been preparing for this ordeal, and managed to get up on the buckboard, but then he sank back in a half-faint. The scouts were at hand, however, with water and a paper fan. The return trip took more than two hours, and when the trail was followed that led direct to the camp Hepsy jogged along without urging and without balking. Joan and Julie sat on either side of their patient, with their feet dangling from the rear. Mrs. Vernon drove Hepsy very carefully, and the animal seemed to sense that she must step circumspectly. Not a bowlder or rut did she cause the vehicle to encounter. "For which we are duly grateful to tricky old Hepsy," declared Julie, as they neared the camp. The scouts entertained Mr. Gilroy on this ride down the mountainside, so that he smiled and almost forgot he was a patient. In fact, the scouts forgot he was a stranger, so pleasant was this middle-aged man of forty-five, with his fine face and gray hair. On the last hundred yards to the Camp, Hepsy pricked up her ears. "She smells oats for supper, and a good bed," laughed Joan. "I'm awfully glad we had Hepsy with us to bring back this couch for Mr. Gilroy," said Betty. "Yes, and we're all glad there is such a nice hut ready to receive Mr. Gilroy. All we will have to do will be to carry the spruce tips from here to the cabin and make the bed," added Julie. Then they told Mr. Gilroy all about the hut and the rugs and the wonderful furniture, that had taken more than two weeks to build. They were still laughing over the perfect work done on the roof by the young hunter, when Hepsy pulled the vehicle up on the plateau near the huts and stopped. "Our camp is under those pines, right beside the tumbling waters," explained Ruth, pointing out the spot to the tired-looking eyes of the man. "Well, I've enjoyed the ride, dear young ladies, but I am greatly relieved to be here," sighed Mr. Gilroy. "Verny, can't you make Hepsy bring the buckboard over to the hut so Mr. Gilroy won't have to walk?" said Joan. "I was just going to suggest it. I will lead her by the head, so she won't balk, but you girls remain seated and see that our guest does not roll off." Ruth and Betty followed behind, and the Captain led the horse carefully over the grass until the camp was reached. All that was now necessary was for the man to wait until the spruce bed was removed from the wagon to the hut. "You girls run and make room in the hut so we can lay the bed on the floor. Move the furniture against the walls," said the Captain. Julie and Joan, being foremost, ran over to begin the work while Mrs. Vernon unhitched Hepsy to take her to the shed. Ruth and Betty were about to push the buckboard under the trees when a heart-rending cry came from the hut. The Captain thought instantly of the tramps, and held her heart as she ran to help. Ruth and Betty left the wagon where it was and started after Mrs. Vernon. Even Mr. Gilroy, forgetting his weakness, slid from the buckboard and crept along in wake of the others. "Oh, Verny! Our lovely, lovely hut! Oh, oh!" wailed Joan. "Everything ruined! Who could have done it!" cried Julie, stamping her foot furiously. When the others crowded about the door, they beheld a scene indeed! Mr. Gilroy sank upon the grapevine seat just outside the door, and panted forth: "Those rascally vandals! They did it!" "Oh, oh! everything gone or broken! But why did they do it? It won't help them any!" wailed Ruth. The table and chairs had disappeared completely, and bits of grapevine and ends of boards scattered everywhere, testified to the cataclysm that struck the inside of the hut. The pictures were torn from the walls, and the flowers were tossed, with their holders, into the grass near the hut. The willow and grass mats were in strips, some of them showing where the demons had tried to set fire to them, but they were too green to burn readily. Suddenly Mrs. Vernon gasped and said: "The annex, girls!" She feared that the tramps might be hidden there. But the girls thought she meant the food-stock, so they ran pell-mell out of the new hut into the old one, Mrs. Vernon trying to hold them back. The scouts found the food-stuff had been taken, too. This was too much for them! They fairly screamed with rage. Mrs. Vernon had all she could do to calm their hysterical anger. "I'll kill them if I get sight of them!" screamed Ruth, with clenched hands, jumping up and down. "Oh, if we only had that hunter's gun!" added Joan. "And shoot each other--no thank you!" declared Julie, in so matter-of-fact a tone that it did more to stop the howling than anything else. Even Mr. Gilroy felt like smiling, in spite of the troubles these innocent scouts had had thrust upon them. "Verny, don't you suppose those poor convicts have gone without food for so long that they had to take ours!" ventured Betty, kindly. "Oh, oh! how _can_ you pity them, Betty Lee!" cried Joan. "Betty, if you don't swear to avenge this outrage, I'll spank you good and hard--so there!" threatened Julie, her eyes gleaming dangerously as she leaned towards poor Betty. "I can't swear, Julie, but I am sorry for two terribly wicked men who don't know better than to hurt Mr. Gilroy and then ruin our lovely home. The food I s'pose they needed," explained Betty, with more spirit than she had ever expressed in her life. The scouts were so amazed at Betty's self-defense that unconsciously they pardoned her charity towards the vagabonds. "Besides, Verny, they couldn't have carried the boxes very far, you know, when it took Hepsy and all of _us_ to carry them in," added Betty. "And the furniture was awfully heavy, too," said Ruth. "And too clumsy for them to handle well," Betty added, but she had best have left that unsaid, as Julie's wrath exploded. "How can you call the furniture clumsy? They were just as handsome as anything I ever saw!" But no one abetted this statement, so she modified her words. "Well, not _very_ clumsy--only heavy, maybe." Mr. Gilroy had been thinking very quickly during this conversation, and now he called to the Captain. They all ran over to him to see if he was all right. "Oh, yes, I feel all right; but I was wondering if you can find it possible to have Hepsy drive on down to that village you mention?" "To Freedom? What for?" asked Julie, surprised. "Because I have a theory about this vandalism, and the sooner the police hear of it, the better for the safety of all," replied Mr. Gilroy. "Do you think you can stand the extra journey?" now asked Mrs. Vernon. "I feel so strong and improved since I see what the rascals did here that I really will be better off if we go to the village than if I remained here chafing against the delay of catching them." Mrs. Vernon knew that an unsettled mental condition was worse than actual healthy fatigue, so she agreed to drive on down to Freedom. "But it will be too late for us to return to-night!" "Oh, you must not think of it! In fact, you must not camp here again until the convicts are taken," hastily replied Mr. Gilroy. "I suppose we can find a good farm-house where we can board for a time," suggested Mrs. Vernon. "We'll ask the grocery man who comes up for our orders," added Julie. By the time Hepsy was hitched again to the buckboard, the scouts had packed some things in suitcases to take with them. Mr. Gilroy refused to recline on the spruce bed again, so he sat up between the two girls. Hepsy was inclined to balk when she found she was wanted to drive down to Freedom; but Mrs. Vernon was most emphatic with a persuasive hickory stick, so that Hepsy decided that "discretion was the better part of stubbornness." Once warmed up to the going, Hepsy kept on traveling at a great rate, so that the village of Freedom was seen in less than an hour's time after leaving the camp. While Mrs. Vernon asked the keeper of the general store about hotel accommodations for all, Mr. Gilroy went to the telephone and called up the police station at Junction. The scouts had not heard the first part of his conversation, as they were interested in hearing about rooms for the night, but when the store-keeper held up a hand for silence, they heard Mr. Gilroy say excitedly: "Is that so! Well, I really believe I can get them for you. My name is Chester Gilroy, and my home is in New York State, but the young ladies are Girl Scouts. The Captain's name is Mrs. Vernon, of Elmertown--the other side of this ridge, you know. And the scouts are Juliette and Elizabeth Lee, Ruth Bentley and Joan Allison." The scouts exchanged glances with Mrs. Vernon, but they had no clue to the conversation at the other end of the wire. "What's that?" asked Mr. Gilroy. "Oh--yes! They lost all their food-stuff, furniture, and other things from camp, so they are compelled to stay at Freedom until the rascals are caught." After saying "good-by" Mr. Gilroy hung up the receiver and came over to the group waiting to hear what was to be done. The excitement and tiresome trip, followed by the sudden relaxation and satisfaction he experienced now, caused the man's head to whirl, so that he dropped into a wooden chair for a time. As he sat there recovering himself, he quickly planned. Then he looked up at the store-keeper. "Mr. Grocer, I can show you an express order on a bank at Junction from my home bank in New York State. I want you to take it--not to cash, but just to prove to you that I mean business." The scouts looked perplexed, and the store-keeper said: "What sort of business do you want to transact?" "I want you to act as a constable for me--or get a real one, if there is one, at once. Then I want you to collect as large a posse of men as you can, and begin and search that mountainside thoroughly. Begin at an outside circle and narrow down as you reach the camp-huts. We've got to get those escaped convicts and hand them over to the police before we can feel safe." The canny grocer shook his head dubiously. "If the men of Freedom round up and land two dangerous criminals, think of the story the newspapers will tell about it. Why, Freedom will be on the map in big headlines!" Mr. Gilroy was beguiling. When Mr. Gilroy concluded, the store-keeper said: "How much do yuh kalkerlate on spendin', mister?" "How many men can you get to go on this quest?" Mr. Gilroy countered. "Wall--there air loungers hangin' about th' post office, in that store over thar, an' there be young fellers what'll want to chase the convicts fer fun, an' others what will do it fer the dollars. I kin raise 'bout forty er fifty, I rickon." "Fine work! I'll pay them $2 for every half-day they are out, with extra money for meals and night work. But the bosses will get double the money. I'll pay you a dollar for every man you sign up." "Signed up--what fer?" asked the suspicious grocer. "To contract to hunt these criminals. You see, we've got to do the thing business-like, and once they start out they might work a whole day or two, and be entitled to honest pay. But others who never moved may come in at pay-time and claim money for nothing. I've got to have the signatures of my men so that I know who I am paying, see?" The old grocer felt satisfied with the explanation, and said: "I know the constabule pritty well, and he'll 'tend to the posse if I divide even. He knows the best men to send on a job like this. I'll be satisfied with half, if I get my picksher in a New York news-paper. I allers wanted to do that afore I die!" Mrs. Vernon could not refrain from smiling at such a desire and ideal, but the scouts laughed outright. Mr. Gilroy said: "Youth laughs because it does not believe in death." "When do ye want 'em to start?" queried the grocer eagerly. "As soon as you can possibly get them off. Those convicts may escape from the mountainside in another twenty-four hours." "I'll git Lem on the telerphone now, and start him off. He's our constabule, ye know, and a lively one, tew." Soon after this, Lemuel Saunders called to see Mr. Gilroy. "Ef yuh will step over to my office, I've got a line o' men waitin' to sign up." The scouts wanted to watch the rest of this exciting plan, so Mrs. Vernon accompanied them to the constable's room behind the Post-Office General Store. Mr. Gilroy hastily wrote upon a sheet of fool's-cap paper, then handed it to Mr. Saunders to be signed by the applicants. A long line filed in, and, signing, went out again. To each man one dollar was paid in advance for a meal, and advice given as to taking guns, clubs and other weapons with them. The spirit of adventure, added to a good financial return, had attracted every one in the village, so that wives and mothers had packed up hearty lunches, and seen to it that the hunters were provided with firearms or cudgels for defense. Scarcely a man or grown boy could be found in town who had not agreed to go out and hunt the felons for Mr. Gilroy. Before sundown that evening the village was left without a man in it. But here and there on the great mountainside twinkling lights could be seen, as the posse moved carefully upwards towards the camp. The following morning found Mr. Gilroy feeling rested and eager to follow the villagers in their search for the outlaws. But the doctor who had sewed up the gash in his head advised the patient to rest all that day. The girls made a great fuss over their sick guest--or at least they insisted upon calling him sick in spite of his protests to the contrary--and promised the physician that they would take every precaution to keep Mr. Gilroy quiet. But they had no idea of how their promise was to be tested. They were soon to know, however. On the first train that stopped at Freedom came the Chief of Police and a number of his officers from Junction, to capture the two escaped convicts. They went straight to Mr. Gilroy to learn all the facts from him, and having taken down his statement they spoke of securing horses, or a car, to take them up the mountainside. "I hired all the horses and vehicles to be had in Freedom," explained Mr. Gilroy, "but I will gladly turn over the auto to you, providing you take me with you on this trip." "Why! You can't leave this porch, Mr. Gilroy," exclaimed Julie. "The doctor said we were to keep you very quiet," added Joan. "But that was more than an hour ago; I am quite recovered now, my dears," laughed Mr. Gilroy. "That makes no difference with us--we were ordered to see that you kept quiet," declared Ruth. "I can keep just as quiet while riding in the car with the Chief as if I sat on this chair," argued Mr. Gilroy. "Impossible! The excitement of the chase will give you a fever," said Julie, emphatically. "Why, they are two poor convicts who are most likely in chains by this time. Our posse has captured them long before this, and all I have to do is to pay off my men," explained the stubborn patient. "Well, you'll find they are not quite tame, or as easy to secure, as you fancy," ventured the Chief. "One of those rascals is a member of that gang that tried to bomb New York City recently. And the other one is a leader of a group of 'Reds' that the secret police rounded up lately. Both, being aliens, were kept in jail until they could be deported. But they managed to make their escape." "How did you get the orders to capture them?" asked Mr. Gilroy. "Why, the Police Chiefs all over the country were sent secret communications with descriptions and photographs of the fellows; just the other day, a young man who lives with his granny on this mountain, said he had seen two evil-looking tramps somewhat resembling the pictures. So we quickly planned to start a round-up when we heard from you. Then last night I got a message over the wire that two suspects were trailed as far as Junction or its vicinity, and we were to look carefully to see if any disguised strangers were hanging about our town." "Well, well! This is certainly interesting, but now I am more determined than ever to go with you when you start. Are we waiting for anything?" said Mr. Gilroy. "Nothing except the consent of your nurses," laughed the Chief. The four girls looked obdurate, and Mr. Gilroy began to smile, then he turned to the Chief. "You feel reasonably sure that I will be taking no risks in accompanying you back to the campsite?" "Oh, certainly! Those two outlaws will never hang about a spot where so many people are liable to stop." "Well, then, is there any objection to my four nurses going with me to see that I keep quiet to-day?" "Oh, Mr. Gilroy! How splendid that will be!" cried Julie, "Oh, yes! Do let us go, Chief!" exclaimed Joan, eagerly. But at this moment Mrs. Vernon came out on the piazza. She overheard the last words and instantly shook her head in disapproval. "But why not, Verny? The Chief says the ground is perfectly safe about our camp!" pleaded Julie. "Why, not a mother in the land would ever allow her girls to join the Scout Organization if they thought I was a sample of a Captain--the very idea! to let you girls run right into such a hotbed of danger!" Mrs. Vernon glanced scornfully at Mr. Gilroy as if to dare him to say another word. But he smiled in return and said: "Just step inside for a moment, Mrs. Vernon,--I have a word to speak to you." Wonderingly, the Captain followed him indoors, and whatever he whispered must have had a wonderful power, for a radical change took place in Mrs. Vernon's opinions before she joined the girls again. "Mr. Gilroy has convinced me that it is to our _advantage_ to go back to the huts, but still I refuse to go unless the Chief can assure me that we will not be anywhere near those outlaws, or run any risk by returning to camp," said she. "As far as that is concerned, I told Mr. Gilroy that the two rascals were too experienced to stay near the camp, but were most likely over the mountain by this time, making tracks for some out-of-the-way place where they could hide again for a few days." "Maybe they will go back to Bluebeard's Cave, now that they got our food and other necessities," suggested Joan. "I only hope they do," laughed the Chief. "For in that case we will smoke them out with sulphur." After many misgivings as to the wisdom of this trip, and fearing the condemnation of all the parents of the girls, as well as the disapproval of the Girl Scouts Organization should they ever hear of the escapade, Mrs. Vernon followed her charges to the car. By the time the police and the scout party arrived at the campsite, the village posse were far past that spot and were beating the woods up on the mountainside. The Chief went carefully over every visible sign of the destruction in the camp, but shook his head smilingly after he had concluded his investigation. "I don't believe the rascals stole the furniture, you know, Mr. Gilroy, as it would hamper them too much in their get-away and it would be of no earthly value to any one but these scouts. Neither do I believe that they carried off much food. Only enough to last them for the present. But they doubtless made a caché of it somewhere, believing that the scouts would be too timid ever to return to this camp, and then they could take up their quarters here. If they were left unmolested, they could move back the furniture and food later." "That's what I thought, too," agreed Mr. Gilroy. "And by depriving the girls of food and camp-beds, they were sure of driving them away from here at once." "Exactly. Now, I should propose to the scouts that they thrash the bushes near here to see if the villagers have not passed over the hidden stores or pieces of furniture. Of course they ought to have beaten the woods too well to miss anything, but one never can tell as, in their zeal, they are hunting _men_, not food," said the Chief. "We will search if you are quite sure it is safe for us to do so. If the hunters who sought first missed the chairs or table, why couldn't they pass over a recumbent form of a man?" said Mrs. Vernon. "Oh, I do not think the tables or chairs are left standing intact. And the food-stuffs will not be in boxes, either; but small installments of it probably will be found here and there under the leaves, in hollows, or hidden under roots of trees." "Well, Chief, you leave two of your best men here with us for protection, and then go as far as you like over the mountain-top," agreed Mr. Gilroy. So two big fighting men were detailed to remain behind with the camp-party, and the rest of the police started in different directions to hunt out the desperadoes. After the police were out of sight, Joan said: "I wish we could find our food-stuff and furniture before a rain-storm comes." Mrs. Vernon laughed. "If the grapevine could withstand the snows and rains of many years before we found it, now that it is turned into furniture for us it will surely not suffer from a slight storm." "Well, _I_ am not thinking of storms, but of hunger. Let's go to work and hunt, then we can stay on in camp--if we find the food," said Julie. So in short order every one was beating the bushes and leaves as if in search of diamonds. The policemen had given the girls a "safety zone" in which to work, while they themselves wandered further afield. Not long after they began seeking, Mrs. Vernon found a cooking-pot under a bush. Then Joan found some groceries. In all sorts of out-of-the-way holes and nooks, well-covered from curious eyes, different articles were found, but the greater part of the food-stuff was still to be regained, when the Captain told her girls to rest for a short time and eat some of the crackers Ruth had found. A dish-pan of water was brought from the spring and the scouts sat down to eat and drink, while reviewing the thrilling adventures of the past two days. "I still must say that I am dubious about the reception this present undertaking will receive, when it is known that I am so weak-minded as to give in to four coaxing girls and Mr. Gilroy, who has a wonderful plan for you girls to win a lot of money--but in a manner that is ninety-nine chances against one to its success." "Oh, Verny! Do tell us what it is!" exclaimed Julie. "Is that what he whispered to you that made you change your mind?" asked Ruth. "Yes, I was foolish enough to believe that it was possible, but now that I am here I see that it is not! I wish to goodness we were back safe at Freedom!" CHAPTER THIRTEEN THE CAPTURE A pleased signal from the detective now caused the happy scouts to race down the trail as if a wild grizzly was after them. Joan and Julie reached him first, and there they saw the nice little caché of food-stock that every man in Freedom had passed by while thrashing the bushes for the fugitives. "Of all things! How did they get the time to do it so neatly?" asked Mrs. Vernon, seeing the logs and leaves and stones scattered over the boxes and tins of camp-food. "They are experienced wanderers, I suppose, and most likely often had to hide their firearms and food from the secret police in Europe," returned the detective, beginning to drag out the packages and boxes. "I can't understand how those men from Freedom, beating over this very ground, should pass by such a clue to the rascals. You see they can't live very long without food, so here we have them, while they may still be at large on the mountains," continued the policeman. The girls were only too glad to carry their campstock back to the small hut and there left it in the custody of Mr. Gilroy, while they sought still further for blankets or bedding. The Chief soon came down the trail and stopped at the camp long enough to hear about the recovery of the stolen food. Then, hearing that the detective was still out hunting for the bedding, he left the scouts to cook some supper. As they worked to settle the camp again, Mr. Gilroy sat in the sun thinking. Suddenly he exclaimed, "I have it!" "What?" cried four voices as they ran over to see if he had caught the vandals with his idea. "The true story of this entire plot. Now, it is this way: "Those blackguards saw your party drive Hepsy up the trail going to the Cave. Maybe they hid and heard you talk about the place. And they knew that if you explored the Caves you must find me and doubtless would endeavor to help me. "They counted on that work taking you much longer than it actually did--for they know nothing about scouts and how they have to understand 'First Aid.' But they raced down the trail as fast as they could go, hoping to get away from this region before their new atrocity was published. "Then they reached your camp and found the food-stuff and the other things. To prevent you from remaining at camp again it would be necessary to deprive you of food and furniture. So they carried everything off and hid it in the bushes where you wouldn't find it so easily. The food they covered, for that they wanted for themselves, in case they had to hide for a long time. "They figured that it would take you some time to carry me down the hillside, and much longer to go on to Freedom. By that time they could be miles away over the mountain-top. "But you upset most of their calculations by unexpectedly appearing on the scene with me, and then going right on down the trail. If we had passed a night here, or even delayed a few hours until darkness fell, perhaps we would never again have seen the day." "Oh! You make me shiver, Mr. Gilroy," exclaimed Ruth. "Don't shiver over a theory, Ruth! That's all it is, for Mr. Gilroy said so before he told his story," laughed Julie. "Julie, you're right! Mr. Gilroy ought to have more sense than to theorize in such a fear-inspiring way," added Joan, trying to be jocular but feeling creepy. "I beg your pardon, scouts--I am at fault, I see," said Mr. Gilroy, politely. "I say, don't let's waste time theorizing and scolding each other, but do let us see that a nice supper is ready for the police when they come up the hill," said Betty. "As usual, our Welfare Member is right," laughed Mrs. Vernon, patting Betty on the head. But the two detectives failed to come back, and Mr. Gilroy began worrying about them. He thought it foolish for two men to go away like that, while the rascals were still at large. Then Mrs. Vernon expressed an opinion. "Mr. Gilroy, I will make a motion that you be made to go to bed in the old hut. The spruce tips are made up in there, and you have had a wearing day. We should feel guilty if we had to telegraph a death notice to your friends in New York State." "I second the motion!" exclaimed Julie. "Motion made and seconded that our friend Mr. Gilroy be made to go to bed at once--without his supper," laughed Joan. "Don't take a vote, scouts--I promise to be good!" cried Mr. Gilroy, holding up a hand in protest of the unanimous vote about to follow. "Then say 'nighty-night' and go at once," added the Captain. "I suppose I must even though the sun has not yet set, but what is one poor man to do with five domineering scouts about him?" sighed he, in mock obedience. Having given their guest some supper and then shown him to his room and seen that the candle was safely stuck in an empty bottle, the scouts said good-night and returned to the fire, where the Captain still sat thinking. "Girls, I want you all to sit in the new hut with me, if you don't mind," whispered Mrs. Vernon. "Why--are you frightened, Verny?" asked Julie, while the others looked apprehensively about. "I feel that it is all so open out here, and the two detectives never came back. In the hut we will have log walls, at least." "Come on--hurry up, girls," cried Ruth, running over towards the door. "If only we had some revolvers," said Julie. "If only I had had more sense than to give in to your coaxing! I might have known this was no place for us," snapped Mrs. Vernon, angry with herself. When the campers were seated upon the boards they had placed across the damaged seats, Betty asked timidly: "Verny, are we going to bed to-night?" "You scouts will, but I will sit up all night." "Then we shall too, Verny. Not that we want to disobey you, but you must not ask us to do anything you would not do yourself," said Julie. "But you will grow drowsy later on, girls, and I want you to have as much rest as possible," explained Mrs. Vernon. "I'm sleepy now, Verny; if I only had a pillow I could be off in dreamland in a moment," confessed Betty. "Here--lean your head against my shoulder, Betsy," said Julie, placing an arm about her sister. But the dreams suddenly disappeared when a stealthy creeping of footsteps seemed to come from the doorway of the old hut. Every one gazed spell-bound at the open door, and Mrs. Vernon could just summon courage enough to say quite loudly: "Is that you, Chief? Mr. Gilroy is in the small hut!" She knew the sound of her voice would break the spell of fear that held them all. Then Mr. Gilroy's voice came back: "S-sh! It is me--myself!" "What's the matter?" anxiously whispered five voices. The very actions of Mr. Gilroy now filled the scouts with fear, for he leaned over and in such a low whisper as to be hardly distinguishable, said: "Some one's behind the wall of this hut." It was well that at this moment a muffled curse sounded from the wall at the back of the hut, where it was built up to meet the rocky ledge of the mountainside. The scouts instantly felt their courage revive when they knew where to look for the danger. A hoarse whisper was now plainly heard through the chinks of the wall where the clay had been plastered in. "Agh! now you must mek a noise aut get us pinched in agin!" The voice was gutteral and spoke with a strong foreign accent. "But dis foot is crusht allreatty. I can't stant it anudder minute. I'm better off in jail dan widdout a foot!" Mr. Gilroy now placed his mouth close to Julie's ear and whispered: "You and Joan take the flashlight and creep out of here as noiselessly as possible. Run for your lives down the trail and give the signal the police determined upon. Here is a whistle. Blow it three times with but a moment's interval between--then, if it is not answered, blow again. Keep this up until you get an answer." "Supposing the two policemen are not down that trail?" asked Julie, as softly as could be. "They will be--because now we know they are not killed. We have the two fugitives in behind that wall, and I want to keep them there until the police get here," said Mr. Gilroy. Julie and Joan then crept away, and Mrs. Vernon heard Mr. Gilroy's voice close at her ear explaining where they went. "You see, the convicts cannot get out of there without our seeing them. In that case I will use my automatic revolver," added Mr. Gilroy. "Oh! I didn't know you had one," sighed the Captain in great relief. "Yes, and I was about to say that you and the two girls had better creep out and get under the heap of spruce tips that is piled in the old hut, while I sit here and guard the wall," Mr. Gilroy returned. Ruth and Betty refused to leave him, however, so the four sat and waited in the darkness. After a long interval of absolute silence, a shrill whistle was heard down the trail. Then a voice behind the wall said: "D'ye t'ink enny one's got a clue?" "Try to see thu dat crack in de wall--see ef yuh kin see any light in dat room?" "Not a flicker--black as pitch out dere." "Dat shows dey's gone, 'cause no woman'll sit in de dark widda coupla o' convicks loose in de woods," harshly laughed one. "I wisht you'se coul' help lift me foot outen dis hole what's eatin' me heart out," groaned the man who evidently had injured his foot. "S-she! Dere goes dat whistle agin. Mebbe dem cops is comin' back dis way." "Ef dey come back, it's ours fer keepin' mum agin. We cain't git away, yuh know, wid my foot lame. An' dey'll never tink of lookin' behin' dis wall fer us ef we kin shet up an' stan' it." "No, but we woulden' have t'ought of it ourself ef it hadn't ben fer dat crookit chimbly. It war so easy to climb dat an' slide down here behin' de wall," chuckled the other one. Mr. Gilroy gently touched the scouts to keep silence, and all four listened with nerves a-tension. "Wisht we onny hed a gun--den we coul' put up a fight ef any one gits on to dis hidin' place," said one of the voices, after a silence that had followed another shrill whistle in the woods. "Dem cops is havin' fun widda whistle. But dey kin whistle fer all we care." A chuckle expressed the satisfaction the man felt. Then an answering signal whistled close to the hut, and one of the prisoners said to his pal: "Gee! Dey's closer'n I t'ought. Keep mum, now, en don't groan enny when dey's in hearin'." Another whistle from the trail echoed to the hut, and Mr. Gilroy got up and ran out. He met two of the returning policemen just outside, and drew them away so that he could tell them of the discovery without being overheard by the convicts; for he had learned how the slightest sound echoed in the forest silences. The men quickly planned how they could catch the convicts, but how should they force them out from behind the wall of the hut? "We'll have to chop down the log wall," said one. "It will take all night and before we get it down our men may have crept out and escaped," said the other. "We'll have to wait for the Chief and his companion to join us, so that two of us can sit on the roof and guard the hole where these men crept through to get in back there," said Mr. Gilroy. A dancing flashlight seen through the forest trees along the lower trail now told the three anxious men that the girls had found the Chief and his men and were returning. Soon the Chief was in an earnest conference with his men and Mr. Gilroy, while the two scouts crept in to whisper a plan to the Captain. CHAPTER FOURTEEN THE REWARD FOR COURAGE While the Chief drew his men away from the hut so they might talk and plan without danger of being heard by the convicts, Julie and Joan whispered their plan to the admiring Captain. "We'll start a blazing fire in the chimney, because everything is laid ready for one, and soon the smoke will choke up the hut and fill the empty place back of the wall, just as it always did when we had a fire for fun," said Julie. "Wasn't it lucky that we built the chimney as we did! If it was straight and correct, it wouldn't smoke, and then that hollow place behind the wall would never fill with smoke," whispered Betty, excitedly. "S-sh! For goodness sake don't whisper so loud--they'll hear us and know what we are planning to do!" warned Joan, placing her hand over Betty's mouth. "But we won't hint to those rascals that we are only smoking them out--we will pretend we are going to burn down the hut," now announced Julie, highly pleased with her plan. "How?" asked Betty. "This way--now listen and keep your wits about you--all of you, and reply wisely," whispered Julie, going over to the fireplace to speak so the men behind the wall could plainly hear her. "Scouts, the Chief and his men are outside loading their guns to open a fight on these two men hidden behind this wall, but that means there will be an awful fight. Now, I have a much better plan; I am going to pour gasoline all over this wall and then light it. It won't take long to burn these logs down; but it will give these convicts a chance to give themselves up." Julie paused a moment, then called out loudly: "Say, you two fugitives! Come out from there quietly and we won't drive you forth." But not a sound was heard from behind the wall. After a few moments, Julie added: "All right! We'll have to burn down the hut. I'm sorry, but we've got to get you, or give up camping here." The scouts were intensely interested in this farce, but Julie meant business. She turned to the Captain and said: "Make the scouts leave the hut before I pour this gasoline all over the log wall. If they remain here with lighted candles, the fumes of the gasoline will cause an explosion." Julie grinned at the girls and placed a finger on her lips as a signal for absolute silence; then she continued: "That's right, Captain; now you take that can of gasoline that stands by the door, and pour it all over those logs while I soak these--then run outside. I will wait, and the moment you are out I will throw a lighted taper at the wall. Instantly the flames will eat up the bark and begin to burn through. By that time those two men will be glad to crawl out and give themselves up." Julie pointed at a pail of water that stood by the door, so the Captain picked it up. Then the scout began arranging the paper and kindlings in the fireplace. These she lit with a match, and when she found they were beginning to burn, she called out: "Now! Let us throw the gasoline all over the wall! Ready!" As Julie gave the word, Mrs. Vernon tossed the water over as much wall surface as possible, then ran from the hut. The smoke now began to pour from the fireplace and filled the room. The scouts had to remain outside to keep from choking. Julie was the last to leave, but she smiled with satisfaction when she saw the dense smoke quickly filling the hut. Then she closed the door. "Have you enough wood on the fire to last this trick out?" asked Mrs. Vernon, anxiously. "Piles of it! That's why it is smoking so furiously," replied Julie. "Only a tiny spiral of smoke can be seen coming from the top of the chimney, so most of it must be escaping from the fireplace into the room," announced Joan. Suddenly the scouts heard some one back of the hut wall cough. Then another louder cough. Soon two were coughing and strangling desperately, and the Captain patted Julie on the back approvingly. Then a gutteral voice tried to be heard: "Vee gif up--onny safe us from dis fire!" Julie held Betty, who was going to shout back that they would be saved. No one replied to the cry, and the two voices shrieked and screamed, "Help! Help--dis house iss on fire--vee burn to dedt!" Julie was about to answer, when the Chief and Mr. Gilroy ran up. The latter caught Mrs. Vernon's look, but the former cried excitedly: "How did the hut catch fire?" He seemed terribly upset about it and wanted to know if the convicts had set fire to the logs. Mrs. Vernon began to explain, while Julie scrambled up on the roof of Hepsy's shed and carefully made her way along the framework until she reached the chimney, where she held fast and called down to the men behind the wall. "Come out and give yourselves up, or roast where you are." When the Chief heard the scout's command, he smiled and ordered his men up on the roof to help. Then he followed Julie, and stood beside her with cocked revolver aiming at the rocky wall. The other policemen climbed up, too, and the Chief said to Julie: "You'd better get down and join your friends now. We can handle the rascals better if you are out of the way." "But you won't have to use revolvers, 'cause they are unarmed," said Julie, anxiously. "How do you know that?" "We heard them whispering. Besides, one man has a crushed foot, and we scouts don't believe in hurting _anything_ that is helpless--even a convict who has made lots of trouble for us." "All right, little girl; I'll put my gun away, but we ought to have _one_ to show, so the rascals won't try to overpower us." "I guess they are so full of smoke and fear that they won't be able to fight. Cowards always give up easy, you know," said Julie, creeping down from the roof of the hut, back to Hepsy's shed. As Julie had said, the two convicts crawled up from behind the wall, looking the sorriest mortals ever one saw. Their eyes were red and watery from the smoke so that they could hardly see, and they coughed every other second. One limped most painfully, and had to be helped by his pal. Then, just as they stood up on the roof to hold up their hands in defeat, the other one broke through the tar paper roof and stuck fast between the rafters. "Oh, there goes our roof!" cried Betty plaintively. "Never mind, Betty dear! You can hire men to put on fifty roofs now, with the reward you scouts will get," exclaimed Mr. Gilroy. "Reward! What reward?" asked five amazed voices. Mr. Gilroy laughed delightedly. "The Chief told me that one reason his men and all the men in Freedom were so eager to hunt these convicts, was the hope of the cash reward offered. The State has offered $500 a head for the capture, dead or alive, of these outlaws and aliens. You scouts have captured the men!" "W-h-y! I can't believe it! How did we do it?" exclaimed Betty. "Oh--Julie caught them, didn't she?" cried Joan. "Not alone, Jo. You all helped, and the Captain poured the gasoline, you know, and took the risk of being blown to bits!" laughed Julie, excitedly, as she twisted her fingers nervously. "When the Chief told me of the rewards, I said: 'Then the girls ought to have it, no matter who _catches_ the convicts, for they apprehended them and turned in the news of their whereabouts.'" "Oh, but we didn't, Mr. Gilroy. You did that yourself," Ruth corrected the gentleman. "I only took the blows from the prisoners--you did the rest. But I never dreamed that you would capture them, too. I might have known that girl scouts are capable of doing anything." The moment handcuffs were on the convicts, they were placed in custody of the officer. Then the Chief blew his signal so the hunters on the mountainside would know the men were taken. He congratulated Julie and her friends on having won the much coveted reward, and then said to Mrs. Vernon: "I suppose you will hear from the Government offices in a few days. Meantime, I will need the names and addresses of the members of Dandelion Camp, to enter the report on my records." The scattered men who had been hunting through the forests now straggled into camp, all eager to hear by whom and how the convicts had been caught. When they learned that a few girls did the work, they looked disgusted. But one of the officers laughed heartily as he said: "Why didn't we think of that hiding-place!" "Wall, I kin say I'm glad th' gals got it! They lost all the camp ferniture and grub, an' has to go home now!" added Lem Saunders, the constable. "Oh, we forgot to tell you! The food and some furniture was found hidden down the trail in the bushes," exclaimed Joan. "But ye haint be agoin' to stay out here any more, air yeh?" asked Lemuel, wondering at such a risk. "Of course! We are safer now than we were before we went to Bluebeard's Cave, you know," laughed Julie. "Now we know where those convicts will be, but for two weeks past they were at large and we never knew it. _That_ was when there was cause to fear for us--being in a lonesome camp," added Mrs. Vernon. "Yeh," agreed Lemuel. "But what one don't know never hurts one, ye know!" "That reminds me!" exclaimed the Captain, holding up a hand for attention. "Do any of you men know a young hunter and trapper from up the mountain?" "D'ye mean Ole Granny Dunstan's boy?" asked Lemuel. "I only know he lives up the mountain somewhere, and makes his living through selling pelts. I don't even know his name," said Mrs. Vernon. "That's him! Ole Granny Dunstan's son," returned Lemuel. "Is he with you to-night?" continued the Captain. "Nah! He's gone to Washerton most ten days ago. They writ him a note sayin' they was holdin' a French paper fer him," explained a young man who was standing on the outer line of the posse. "He fit so hard in France, yeh know, that th' Frenchys done sent him a fine paper tellin' folks about him. I've hear'n said folks over thar nicknamed him an 'ace,'" said another man. "Then he must have been an aviator!" exclaimed Mrs. Vernon. "Yeh! he can fly in one of them machines--but we don't keep any in Freedom, so we never seed him ride one," said Lemuel. "Well, gentlemen, I thank you for this information. But should you see him when he returns from Washington, tell him we want him to stop in and see us--at Dandelion Camp." The Chief had ordered his men to accompany the convicts to the village, so Mr. Gilroy offered the car to them. He was going to stay at camp with the scouts, he said. "But we left our suitcases at the hotel, and Hepsy is at the stable in Freedom!" declared the Captain. "We'll all have to go back, then, and come up in the morning," added Julie. So the convicts were tied to horses and two of the officers whose mounts had been chosen for this need sat in the car with the scouts. But they didn't mind being crowded when the two policemen began telling stories of the narrow escapes they had had in the past while catching criminals. As the cavalcade entered Freedom, Mrs. Vernon said: "After all those blood-curdling stories, I doubt if my scouts will sleep." It was past midnight when the hunting party returned to Freedom, and only goodness knows what time it was when all the hunters had finished telling the citizens how the convicts were captured by a few girl scouts. Long after the scouts had retired Mrs. Vernon heard them whispering to each other. Finally she called out: "Why don't you girls go to sleep?" "We can't, Verny; we're thinking of that reward," said Joan. "And we've spent most of it already!" laughed Julie. "You'll have plenty of time to plan about it, girls, for the Government--like most large bodies--moves very slowly. It may be next summer before you get the check," said the Captain. "Never mind; it will be ready for the Adirondacks, then." CHAPTER FIFTEEN A FURNITURE SHOWER News of the raid on Dandelion Camp traveled swiftly, so that the head of police in Elmertown heard of the posse and the reward offered to capture the convicts. He was going down the street after hearing the story and, meeting Mr. Allison, stopped him. "I suppose the scouts came home this afternoon," he said. "The scouts! Why, no--why should they?" asked Mr. Allison. "Is it possible that you have not heard?" "Heard--heard what? Has anything terrible happened?" cried the frightened father. Now, the policeman knew that no one in Elmertown had heard the story, but he liked to create an effect, so he explained carefully, "Why, two convicts got away from State's prison and were hiding on that mountain where your girls are camping." "Good heavens! What happened?" "Nothing more than their camp was broken up. All the food-stuff and furniture are gone. The men stole everything and what they could not carry away, they broke to bits." "Why--how awful! Where were the scouts when this happened?" asked Mr. Allison, trembling with apprehension. "Oh, it seems they went to Bluebeard's Cave to celebrate the Fourth, and there they found an unconscious man who had been beaten almost to death by the rascals who, after robbing him, took him way back in the Cave and left him there. But the scouts discovered him, and saved his life." "Well, now! that is something like it," said the father proudly. "But it didn't spare their camp. When they got back they found everything gone, so they kept right on to Freedom and are staying at Mrs. Munson's hotel." "Why there--they should have come home," said Mr. Allison. "They couldn't, I s'pose. You see, they would have to be on hand to swear to warrants and everything. We police do things up according to law, you know." "Maybe they'll be home to-day," ventured Mr. Allison. "Like as not. Well, so long!" Mr. Allison thanked the officer and hurried to his office. He rang up the Bentley's house and found Ruth's father at home. "Say, Bentley, I just met the cop on our beat and he tells me the scouts had an awful time! Two escaped prisoners were hiding on the mountains, and smashed up the camp. Every bit of food and all the furniture broken to bits. The girls saved a man that the outlaws had beaten to a jelly." "Good heavens! Were any of the scouts hurt in the fight?" "No, but I guess they were pretty well frightened,--eh?" "I should say so! What are we going to do about it--go out and bring them home?" said Mr. Bentley. "Oh, the cop told me they were now at a hotel in Freedom, as they had to be on hand to testify to certain things. I suppose they will be home to-morrow." "Let me hear from you if you hear anything new, will you?" asked Mr. Bentley. "Yes, and you do the same," replied Mr. Allison. Hardly had both men hung up the receivers before the telephone bell at the Lee house tinkled. May answered the call. Two men were trying to get her. One said to the other: "Get off of this wire--it's busy." Then the other replied: "I called the number first--I heard you come in----Now get off, I have to tell this party a very important story." "Ho! that sounds like Allison's voice--is it you?" "Yes,--is this Bentley?" asked the other voice. "Ha, ha, ha! I was just going to tell the Lees about the robbers and the camp. But you can tell them, if you like." "All right--hang up and I'll tell them," said Mr. Bentley. Now, May had heard this conversation and when the men spoke of robbers and camp she trembled with fear. By the time Mr. Bentley had told his story, she was so weak that she had to sit down. Finally she managed to get in a word, so she asked: "But where are the girls? Did anything happen to them?" "Oh, they are all right! They're stopping at the Freedom Hotel until the police can get all their testimony." "Thank goodness. The furniture can quickly be replaced, but the girls' lives cannot. Now we will have to plan to refurnish their huts," said May. "Refurnish--why! Won't you insist upon their coming home now?" asked Mr. Bentley. "Why should they come home now, just after they cleared the pests out of their vicinity? Of course not!" "Well, I suppose you are right in one way. But Allison and I expected they would come home to-morrow." "Poor girls! They were having such a wonderful time in camp, too! I guess I will get Mrs. Vernon's sister to take me to Freedom in the morning to see if there is anything we can do." "May, I think that is a fine idea. And when you see them give them our love and say that we will do anything they say. If they plan to go on with the camp--all right and well. We will stock them up again." "All right, Mr. Bentley, I'll call you up when I get back and tell you all they say. Meantime, let Mr. Allison know that I intend running out to see them, will you?" "Yes, I'll call him up at once, May. Good-by." So it happened that Mrs. Vernon's sister-in-law and May went to Freedom in the automobile the day following the Fourth, but found the town almost deserted. Mrs. Munson told them how the scouts led the way up the mountainside when the police arrived, and they weren't expected back that day. After sitting around and waiting until afternoon, May and Mrs. Vernon's sister decided to go back. But they left notes with Mrs. Munson for the scouts, as soon as they should return. That evening May telephoned the Bentleys. After telling the little she knew about the case, she asked them to come over and discuss a plan she had thought of. Then the Allisons were asked to run over and meet the others in planning a relief-party for the scouts. That evening the whole plan was approved and worked out. May said that the sister-in-law had promised to send the factory truck to the house on Saturday at noon, so they need not worry about transporting the donations to the camp. As that was the only hitch in the entire plan, once it was removed every one was delighted. That Saturday morning the local papers were full of the story of how a few girl scouts found and captured two desperate outlaws. The story was so highly embellished that several of the conservative parents in the town thought it was dreadful to allow girls to go off in the woods without a dog or a big brother. What the big brother would have done that the scouts didn't accomplish is hard to say. But most of the girls who had been so anxious to be scouts and spend the summer in camp, now gnashed their teeth in envy. Here were four girls who had to dig dandelions to earn the money to go away on, now having the most wonderful time! They had their names in the paper, and every one said what brave scouts they were! And, most of all, they were going to have ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS from the Government as a reward. "Oh, why did we have to sit at home all summer while these scouts were getting all the fun?" they wailed. The three families of the Dandelion Camp Scouts felt very proud of their girls when they read the account in the papers, and they felt all the more eager to go to camp with the donations of furniture, and show the girls how much they appreciated their courage and cleverness in capturing the rascals. At one o'clock on Saturday the driver pulled his truck up in front of the Lee homestead. Just inside the picket fence stood two cane-seated chairs. The fact that hind-legs were missing was not apparent to a casual observer, but that is why they had been in the loft for several years. The moment the truck was seen to stop, May and her father ran from the house, carrying paper bundles piled high in their arms. Eliza followed with a brass banquet lamp minus a globe. Handing this to the driver, she hurried back for odds and ends of dishes and pans. May made a second trip for some pictures in broken frames--also a washtub and old tools that had been found in the loft. The second stop was made at the Bentley's house. Their donation consisted of a table with three legs; a small wash-stand bureau with bottomless drawers; an old-fashioned towel-rack and a rocker with a very lame back; in fact, the back might be called crippled and helpless. But then they added a goodly stock of groceries. At the Allison's house the driver took on a kitchen table with one drop-leaf gone and the other hanging by one hinge. A small family album-stand from the parlor of long ago. An old hair-cloth sofa with broken springs and the filling most gone; a straw mattress and a spiral spring that had not been used for years, so the Allisons thought it might as well go to the camp as to be left in the attic. Foodstuff was the last but not least of this donation. When the truck reached the Vernons' house, where the sister-in-law was waiting, many cumbersome and heavy items were added to the collection. By this time the jitney party had been picked up one after another, and now all arrived at the Vernons' house for the last passenger. The truck and jitney then started for Dandelion Camp, the happy givers picturing how delighted the scouts would be to receive the shower of furniture. At Freedom the surprise party found their girls had gone back to camp, and the injured man with them. Lemuel Saunders was such a personage in the public eye since the man-hunt on the mountain that he could be seen strutting up and down Main Street, telling people all about the Great Deed. Thus it was that the families from Elmertown heard the tale first-hand--with all its trimmings. As the truck started up the trail for the camp Mr. Bentley turned to Mr. Lee and Mr. Allison and said: "According to Lemuel, he did the whole trick. If our girls played so little a part in the capture, why should they have had the reward?" But further conversation was rendered impossible by the deep ruts worn in the trail by the many wagons that had recently traveled the road. People from Freedom and other villages nearby wanted to see the girl scouts who had shown so much sense as to trap two convicts. Finally the truck halted, and the jitney traveled on a few hundred feet in advance before it, too, had to stop. Each member of the party then took a piece of furniture and, carrying the load, started for camp. The scouts were busy trying to put their camp in order again, when Mrs. Vernon called out, "Some one's coming up the trail." Ruth ran out to see who it could be, and then exclaimed: "Why, it's Daddy! He's carrying an old table." A few yards behind Mr. Bentley came Mr. Allison with the legless chairs. And then followed the chauffeur, staggering under a canopy of the husk-mattress. A line of visitors came behind him, each burdened with some piece of old furniture. The scouts stood speechless at the top of the slope, but gradually the truth about this "moving brigade" dawned upon Mrs. Vernon. She turned instantly to the girls, and said: "Be very grateful, for your people have gone to a great deal of trouble to refurnish your camp." Mr. Bentley was only too thankful to drop his burden when he reached the scouts; Ruth caught hold of his hand, laughing merrily as she said: "Oh, can you ever stand up straight again, Daddy?" "I doubt it," returned he, holding the small of his back. Then the others came up and deposited their donations beside the kitchen-table. As each one sighed and wiped streaming faces, the scouts declared they were the finest families on earth. "You certainly are very self-sacrificing to bring all this furniture to camp," added Mrs. Vernon. "We would have been cold-blooded folks if we hadn't, after hearing how all the rustic furniture was destroyed," said May. "But we got it all back!" exclaimed Julie, joyously. "Got it back! I thought those rascals smashed it up," said Mr. Allison. "No--they just hid it behind bushes and trees; only the grass mats and little ornaments were broken up," explained Joan. "Dear me! Do you mean to say that we brought this load of odds and ends all this way for nothing?" cried Mrs. Bentley. "Of course not! Now we can entertain company over-night, you see. With that mattress and spring we can have two people," declared Julie, looking at her companions for credit of this idea. "That's so! And we can furnish a regular bedroom with the chairs and table--and banquet lamp," added Joan. "But we will have to pin a notice on those chairs so no one will use them," ventured Betty, doubtfully, looking at the legless objects. Every one laughed, and Ruth added: "We'll build new legs on to them." "You'll have to build another hut to hold the furniture," now said Mr. Gilroy. This attracted all attention to the stranger, and Mrs. Vernon suddenly flushed crimson, and said: "Oh! What a poor scout hostess I make. I quite forgot to introduce our guest, Mr. Gilroy." Then the usual ceremony took place, midst the laughter of every one, for Mrs. Vernon was considered to be very particular about social customs. "Now that all this furniture is here, what shall we do with it?" asked Joan. "It won't stand dew and weather like our rustic pieces, you know," added Ruth. "If you scouts will help move the 'shower,' we might pile it back of Hepsy's shed and cover it with a canvas until you have built a hotel," laughed May. So, with merriment and strenuous labor, the furniture was neatly stacked up beside the shed until it could be better arranged. Then every one sat down to listen to the story of the capture of the convicts. As all the scouts wished to tell the tale at the same time so that no one understood, the visitors quickly voted that Mrs. Vernon be the speaker. This was acceptable to the girls, and the Captain began. She was a good story-teller, and the scenes were graphically described until she reached the part where the Chief stood on the roof of the hut, commanding the fugitives to come out. To make the recital more impressive, the Captain threw out her arm, which was supposed to hold the revolver, when quite unexpectedly the chair she sat in collapsed, and she found herself on the grass. For a second every one held his or her breath, then laughed heartily at Mrs. Vernon's surprised expression. Julie jumped up from the stump where she had been sitting and ran over to explain. "Oh, I am so sorry, Verny! I forgot to tell you that the fore leg of this rustic seat was loose. I tied it on with string to make it look right, but I didn't think any one would use it." "Good gracious, Jule! Did you think our camp wanted ornamental furniture?" demanded Joan, thinking thereby to give a strong hint to the friends who showered useless articles upon them that day. This statement caused rather a silence in the visitors, until May said: "I hope you won't find much trouble in repairing the pieces _we_ brought for you." "Oh, we will make some sort of use of them," replied Julie, frankly, as sisters will. "We can pull the old stuffing out of that sofa, you know, and use it for bedding for Hepsy, when we run short of dried leaves or grass." Every eye turned to look at the old sofa, and Mr. Gilroy had great difficulty in keeping his face straight. Finally the erstwhile owner of the sofa said: "Horses don't like hair for bedding." Julie retorted: "Because it makes them dream of what all the tails and manes come to when they die!" This caused a laugh, and Joan added: "Anyway, a horse in camp--'specially a scout horse--can't be choosers about bedding. They are glad to get what is to be had." Mr. Lee laughingly replied to this: "I'm glad I'm not a scout horse." Mrs. Vernon now turned to her sister-in-law and said: "I'm curious to hear what donations you found to bring out?" "Oh, Pete told me there was a loft full of furniture over the old stables. So I rummaged and found all I could manage." "That reminds me, Mrs. Ormsby! We have not added your gifts to these because we could not carry them up the slope. They were too heavy," explained Mr. Lee. "My goodness me! More stuff?" exclaimed Ruth. "Yes, but I think you will be pleased with my donations," said Mrs. Ormsby, apologetically. "I heard how you had to manage with this poor camp-fire, so I brought a kitchen stove that was stored in the loft. I also----" but the lady got no further at that time. The scouts laughed so that some of them doubled over and rocked back and forth. Even Mrs. Vernon had to laugh at her relative's pity. "Oh, oh! This is the funniest thing I ever heard!" said she. "Why, my dear Kate, don't you know that half the sport of camping is trying to do without modern equipment? Every camper tries to use wood-material only for home, furniture and outfit. What would the founders of the girls' scouts say if they heard we cooked our camp meals on a kitchen range in the woods!" "Do you really mean that you do not want it?" asked Mrs. Ormsby. "Of course not! We have a fine fireplace and oven, so the stove and stove-pipe may as well go back on the truck." "Maybe you will scorn the walnut bed I brought as a great surprise? I heard there was a spring and mattress, so I had the bed brought from the loft and moved here on the truck with the other things. But it is so massive and heavy, no one could carry the head and foot boards up the hill. We thought Hepsy could do that," explained Mrs. Ormsby, dubiously to be sure, after the reception her other gift had received. Mrs. Vernon now laughed as heartily as the scouts had done just before this. "Oh! That awful bedstead that always took an acre lot to hold it! Where could we put it up? Our huts will never hold one section of it." "I have a brilliant idea, Mrs. Vernon," now said Mr. Gilroy. "Suppose we put up the bed down there in some secluded nook and then with the spring and mattress I can have a wonderful suite of my own for a few nights." "There! I knew that bed would prove useful!" declared Mrs. Ormsby, sending a look of thanks to Mr. Gilroy. "Maybe Mr. Gilroy would like the stove, too, to dry out the dampness from the ground where he camps," suggested Julie. Every one laughed excepting Betty; she took the idea as literal, and said: "That might be a good plan for us--to use it in front of the fireplace. You see, we can't burn wood there 'cause it smokes so, but the stove-pipe can be run right up the flues so all the smoke from the stove will manage to get up where it ought to go." Another shout of laughter greeted this original proposition, and Mrs. Vernon finally gasped: "If the stove goes in the hut, we will have to stay out!" "Then I suppose the stove has to go back?" Mrs. Ormsby wanted to know. "We can sell it in Freedom, I have no doubt, and put the proceeds in the bank for the Adirondack Camp," replied Mrs. Vernon. "Oh, say, Verny! That's what we can do with all this furniture, can't we?" cried Julie, eagerly. But her vivacious suggestion seemed to meet with another strange silence. Finally Mrs. Vernon broke the embarrassment by saying: "We ought to get dinner, as it is long past the hour." And Mr. Lee said: "I suppose the food-stock we brought to replenish the larder will be scorned." "Oh, no indeed, Daddy! We _need_ things to eat!" said Betty. As they all sat in a circle on the grass, eating and laughing, Eliza made a bold suggestion. "Now, I sez we folks seem to be foolish over some things. One of 'em is, we hoard ole furniture and odds and ends that even a Dandelion laughs at! We pays rent fer jes' sech useless trash that we never wants to use agin. Every house-cleanin' time we moves and cleans the rubbish what collects moths, an' finally, affer years of savin', we throws it out." She paused to see what effect this statement had on her audience, and seeing it was politely received, she took another huge bite from the sandwich she held, and, while chewing vigorously, concluded her speech. "Now, this is what I sez: 'Let's go home and clear out all the rubbage that clutters our attics, an' give it to the poor, or sell it to a rummitch sale such as I hears tell of in Elmertown.'" "I second that valuable motion!" laughed Mr. Lee. And the men voted unanimously on the plan, but the ladies were not so easily persuaded. Mrs. Ormsby quickly added: "All opposed to the motion, say 'Nay.'" But the scouts and Mrs. Vernon shouted hilariously to drown opposition. There were two or three faint "nays," so the motion was carried, and the men declared that they would see to it that it was fulfilled. CHAPTER SIXTEEN A VISIT TO GRANNY DUNSTAN'S CABIN Mr. Gilroy's "suite of rooms" was put in order by the men before they went back to Elmertown, and not only the walnut bed helped furnish the chamber, but several other pieces of furniture were carried back from the stack beside the shed, and placed to add a look of comfort to the "room." When all was done and the visitors were ready to leave, the scouts declared they would accompany their relatives down the slope and pass judgment on the "suite" to be occupied by their guest. "It may be healthy to sleep out under the trees like this, but I prefer a plaster ceiling," laughed Mr. Lee, waving his hand at the open woods that was to be Mr. Gilroy's chamber. "That's because you never tried Nature's ceiling. Once you sleep out in the open, you will never want to try indoors again," replied Mr. Gilroy. "I'd better not try it, then. I have to remain at home and see that some one provides the 'pot-boiler,'" returned Mr. Lee. The visitors climbed into the jitney and said good-by, and the scouts turned to go up the hill again, when Mrs. Vernon remarked: "Now that you have a boarder to look after, you must pay more attention to your cookery. Mr. Gilroy must not regret having accepted our invitation to camp with us for a few days." "But our invitation had 'a string' to it, Verny," added Julie laughingly. "That's true--I said I would take 'pot luck' and teach the scouts many camping tricks to boot!" declared Mr. Gilroy. Sunday morning at breakfast Mrs. Vernon said she was very anxious to meet young Dunstan, for he might have met her son in the Aviation Service. Then she had to tell Mr. Gilroy about it. "I thought I would like to drive down to Freedom later in the day, Mrs. Vernon, and see if there was any mail for me. It was to be forwarded from Junction, you know. If you would care to go and ask about Dunstan, we might make a little party of it," suggested Mr. Gilroy. "Yes, Verny, let's!" exclaimed the scouts. "I am willing, as there seems little else one can do," added Mrs. Vernon. So Hepsy was hitched to the buckboard and the campers climbed in. As they started down the trail, Ruth remarked: "We ought to be thankful the posse found our hamper and seat in the Cave, and brought it back to camp." "Yes, or we'd have to ride on the floor of the buckboard," added Joan. "We'd have more room there than on this seat," retorted Julie, who was clinging to the iron rail. "We can take turns walking if we are too crowded," suggested Mr. Gilroy, who shared the back seat with two scouts. "We'll have to do that, anyway, when Hepsy comes to a hill," laughed Mrs. Vernon. So with light banter the party rode to Freedom; there they were received like heroes, for every inhabitant of Freedom had clipped the papers and saved the items that mentioned the capture of the convicts. While Mr. Gilroy went with Lemuel to get his letters, Mrs. Vernon asked if young Dunstan had been heard from. "Not yet, but sometimes he takes the Crest Trail to hum. In that case, he nary comes nigh Freedom," replied an old native. "Where does the Crest Trail start?" asked Mrs. Vernon. "Wall, that's the way Mr. Gilroy went from Junction. It runs along the top affer one gits halfway up from Junction." As this description was not very accurate, the Captain decided to trust to Mr. Gilroy's ability to lead them there. So she made a proposition to Mr. Gilroy. The girls did not hear what it was, so they knew nothing of the outing planned for the morrow. "I think it will be fine, Captain, and I will see the man who has charge of the stable," returned Mr. Gilroy, in a low voice. Soon after this Mr. Gilroy went down the main street and turned in at the livery stable. He was not gone long, however, and when he returned, he nodded satisfactorily to Mrs. Vernon. That night Mrs. Vernon said to the scouts: "You must all go to bed early, as we have a jaunt planned for you to-morrow. Breakfast must be out of the way quite early, as we hope to start from camp about eight o'clock." "Where are we going, Verny?" asked Ruth. "I heard Verny asking about Dunstan's Cabin, and I bet she plans for us to walk there," quickly added Julie. Mrs. Vernon smiled at this added proof of Julie's mental alertness, but she shook her head as she said: "Not a walk, but a ride." "A drive, you mean," corrected Joan. "No--just what I said. There will be horses from Freedom brought to camp before eight to-morrow, if it is clear," explained Mrs. Vernon. "Good gracious! I haven't any habit!" exclaimed Ruth. "We will ride in the bloomers we wear at camp," said the Captain. "I never knew there were enough saddles in Freedom for all of us," laughed Julie. "That is what I went to find out," said Mr. Gilroy. "The man, Mark, who has charge of the stable, told me he could hire some from the farmers round about. He is going to bring up the horses in the morning and take them back in the evening." "What will he do meantime, to kill time here?" asked Joan. "He said he would make some bird-boxes for you, and nail them up in various trees, so you can entice the birds to nest here." But the scouts had not yet studied bird-life, so they were not aware that the nesting period was past. They delighted in the news that they were to have bird-houses, however. When Mr. Gilroy took up his flashlight to go down to his "Royal Suite," as the scouts called the walnut bedstead, Joan said: "Shall we escort you down the trail?" "Oh, no! I can find the bed, all right. It is such a huge affair that I would have to be blind not to see it in the dark." The scouts were soon in bed after this, and honestly tried to go to sleep, but the new adventure planned for the morrow kept them awake. After telling each other what they would wear and how well they could ride horses, one after the other quieted down, and, last of all, Mrs. Vernon was able to sleep. It was past eight when Mark was seen coming up the trail leading a line of horses, saddled and ready to ride. Stopping at the Royal Suite, he waited for Mr. Gilroy to get upon the largest horse. Then they continued to the camp. The girls had breakfast out of the way, and were anxiously waiting for the horses, so Mark had quite an audience as he rode up on the plateau. The scouts seldom had opportunity to ride a horse when at home, and now they commented on the different animals. Julie instantly said: "I choose the brown one--he is so shiny." "Seems to me they look awfully tall," whispered Betty. "They be the usual size, miss," said Mark, who overheard. "Maybe they won't seem so high when we get up," added Joan. Mrs. Vernon laughed. "That is always the first thought of an amateur rider--how high up the saddle seems!" Mr. Gilroy assisted the Captain to mount, then he helped the girls up. Mark had an extra horse, and now he said: "I brung my own hoss ez I figgered I'd best lead the way as fur as Crest Trail. After that it's easy going and you can't miss Dunstan's Cabin." "All right, Mark--lead on," said Mr. Gilroy. "As the hosses is all safe fer ridin', the scouts needen' fear 'em. They ain't colts ner air they skittish," said Mark. Mr. Gilroy smiled, for he surmised as much. The mounts, in fact, seemed aged enough to be pensioned for the rest of their lives. As Mark led the way up the trail, he described Granny Dunstan and her abode. "She's most a hunerd years old, an' she's allus lived in that cabin. This boy is her great-gran'son, but his folks lives in a town some forty mile away. He come to stop wid' Granny when she got so old, an' he likes the woods life." "But he enlisted, you say, to fight the Germans," said Mrs. Vernon, eagerly. "Yeh! He keeps up to th' times, an' hes books and papers up thar. When the _Lusertani_ was sunk he got reel mad, an' come down to Freedom an' wanted to git a crowd of young uns up to go and shoot the Huns. But they diden' want to go so fur from hum. Then he got his dander up an' says: 'I'll jine myself, then. You'll hear of me some day!' And off he goes. Some folks said he oughter have stayed wid his Granny, so a few of us druv up to ask her about it. Golly! she mos' made us deef with her shoutin' at our bein' slackers, cuz she said her boy was the onny true Yank in Freedom! "She made us feel mighty small when she shouts out: 'Yuh call yer town Freedom! Bah--it ain't nothin' but a handful of cowards. It oughter be called "Slack town."' We got away pritty soon affer that, an' folks ain't so anxious to visit Granny as onct they was." This explanation gave the scout party a good idea of the old woman they were about to visit, and Mrs. Vernon said: "Do you think we should have told her we wanted to call?" "Oh, no! she don't mind strangers. She goes about her chores jes th' same ez ef no one was there," said Mark. The seven horses padded softly up the grassy trail, and when they reached the cross-trail near the top of the mountain Mark reined in his mount. "Now, yeh foller that trail to the crest an' then turn t' th' left. Foller the road clear on till yeh come to the Cabin." Mark waited and watched until the last horse had disappeared on top of the mountain, then he rode back to camp to wait. The scouts continued on the trail, passing noisy streams that ran madly over rocks or fell over cliffs. The birds and flowers were many-hued and beautiful, so that every step of the way was enjoyable. Mr. Gilroy rode in front, and the Captain at the rear of the line. After a ride of about three miles along the Crest, Mr. Gilroy stopped his horse and looked at a tiny cabin half-hidden under vines and giant trees. It sat back from the trail about twenty feet, and might have been passed by unless one was looking for it. "Isn't that lovely?" Joan said. "Yes, in summer; but think how dreadful it would be in winter," added Julie. "She doesn't live here all winter, does she?" asked Ruth. "Yes; Mark says she won't leave the place, although her granddaughter--the aviator's mother, you know--begged her to move down to her home," explained Mrs. Vernon. "The roof's as green as the grass," now said Betty. "It's moss on the old shingles," said Mrs. Vernon. "Mark told me that folks at Freedom say the old lady has a heap of money hidden away in this old cabin, and no one knows where except her great-grandson, who will be the heir," said Mr. Gilroy. "But that is all conjecture, Mr. Gilroy, as no one has ever heard a word about it from Granny or her boy," added Mrs. Vernon. "I think it is idle gossip, for how could the old dame make the gold up here? It would take all she could earn with her herbs to pay for her living," admitted Mr. Gilroy. "Does she sell herbs?" asked the scouts, eagerly. "Mark said she is the greatest Nature physician ever found around here. If the medical men can't cure a sickness, they send for Granny Dunstan, and she gives the patients a drink of simples and they recover quickly. "She used to sell these remedies all over the countryside, but of late years she doesn't come down to the towns like she used to. Her boy sells his pelts instead, so that is why the people said she had gold enough." "I'm glad you told us this, Mr. Gilroy," said Mrs. Vernon, "as I should like the scouts to learn from the aged woman how she gathers and prepares the tea and balms." The riders dismounted and tied their horses to trees, then followed Mr. Gilroy across the grass to the cabin. The door stood open but not a sound was heard from within. "Just look at this construction!" cried Julie. "She's used stones, logs and everything in the walls." "And the growing trees were used for corner-posts of the house," added Mrs. Vernon, examining the odd structure. Mr. Gilroy rapped politely on the door, but no one replied. Again he rapped louder, and a shrill bark sounded from a distance back in the woods. "I guess she's out in her garden," said Mr. Gilroy. "I heard a funny grunt from the little shed at the back of this room," whispered Julie. "Let's go around the corner of the cabin and see if she is back there," suggested Mrs. Vernon. So they followed Mr. Gilroy, and all had to laugh when they found the grunt came from a sow with a litter of little pigs. She was queen of the shed that leaned against the cabin, so the scouts watched her with interest for a time, then turned to follow after Mr. Gilroy and the Captain. But the sow grunted excitedly when the little ones ran after the visitors. They thought there would be something to eat, and having never seen strangers before they knew no fear of them. The angry grunting of the old mother hog made the dog bark again from the woodland, and soon after a bent-over form could be seen coming from the woods. A hound bounded before her, barking shrilly at the trespassers, until the old woman shouted: "Be quiet, Bill!" Instantly the dog dropped behind his mistress, and Mr. Gilroy lifted his hat as he greeted the aged dame. Mrs. Vernon went forward also, and said: "We came to see you, Mrs. Dunstan; I heard your boy was an aviator in France, and I felt an interest in meeting and talking with you and him. My boy was one, too, but he was shot down." This was an opportune introduction, as nothing melted the old lady's scorn and indifference to visitors like the interest one took in aviation. "Now, this be a real treat! Them folks at Freedom won't dare to come and see me since we went to war!" declared the centenarian in a strong voice. Granny Dunstan squinted keenly at the visitors to make sure they were truthful, and, finding they seemed earnest, she led the way to the cabin. "I rickon we better sit outside; the cabin's too small to hold more'n three of us," announced Granny, as she turned to address her visitors. Her criss-crossed wrinkled face seemed to roll up with that grin, showing shrivelled toothless gums. Yet the aged face was attractive, with a subtle kind of wholesomeness seldom seen in old people. Mrs. Vernon said, later, that it must be the result of living alone with Nature and her children for so many years. "You said you had a boy what was aviator in France?" questioned Granny, the moment the scouts had seated themselves. "Yes, and when I heard your boy had been over, I was anxious to meet you both," said Mrs. Vernon. "Wall, my boy's got a cross from France, an' now he's ben sent for to go to Washin'ton and meet some big folks what's here visitin' from France. I tell you, John's a right smart soljer!" The proud old dame wagged her head briskly as she gazed from one to the other of her hearers. Then she suddenly changed the conversation. "Yeh hed a long, long ride from Freedom, didn't yeh?" Mrs. Vernon explained that they were camping and had only traveled from the plateau that morning. "Oh, ye'es must be the gals John tole me about one day--he said thar war some tramps loose on the hill and he wisht yuh knew it so yuh could keep a dog to warn 'em off. In fack, he wuz agoin' to git yuh one, but he had to leave so quick-like." Granny was very entertaining, and before the scouts left, she had shown them many of her preparations, witch-hazel being one of her remedies. She treated them to drinks of birch-beer, and gave them vials of winter-green flavoring, and peppermint oil, to be used in candy-making. "I'd like to bring my girls up again, Granny, to have them learn more of your art of chemistry. The proof that you have found the secret of living long and well is evident in your strength and power to enjoy life as you do," said Mrs. Vernon, as they said good-by. "An' I'll tell John about you havin' a boy over thar, an' he'll be sure to come and see yuh," said the old lady. "I'll be so happy to become acquainted with him. Who knows, but he may have known my son and can tell me something of his life there. We have never been able to learn much," said Mrs. Vernon, pathetically. Granny Dunstan placed a bony hand gently on her visitor's arm and looked volumes with her bright little eyes. Then and there, age, position, and all earthly claims disappeared, and the scouts were given a wonderful sight in beholding a perfect spiritual communion between two entirely different humans. On the ride back to camp, Mr. Gilroy said: "Well, I wouldn't have missed that visit for anything." "If 'imitation is the sincerest flattery' then we are flattering Granny Dunstan, for we are going there again to learn the things she knows," said Mrs. Vernon. The scouts found that Mark had erected several bird-houses, and as they stood watching him line up his horses again, to lead them back to Freedom, they plied him with questions about Granny Dunstan. "Mark, does she keep all those pigs for meat in winter?" asked Ruth. "No, she fatten's 'em en sells 'em fer groceries en' other needs. Her pork fetches more'n enny other round th' country." "How do you account for that, Mark?" asked Mrs. Vernon. "Cuz it is such sweet and clean meat. Them pigs fatten up on acorns and nuts. And that makes the finest tastin' flesh, yuh know." After Mark left camp, the girls still talked of the old lady and her wonderful knowledge of woodcraft. Mr. Gilroy and Mrs. Vernon stood at a short distance, conversing in low tones. Finally they came over and joined the scouts. Mr. Gilroy said: "I want to thank you scouts for all you have done for me, not only in saving my life, but in entertaining me later." Julie looked anxiously up at him and said, "You sound just as if you were going to leave." Mrs. Vernon and he laughed: "To tell the truth, I am." "There--I knew it! It's that old walnut bed!" cried Ruth. "Oh, no," laughed Mr. Gilroy. "It is because I must keep important appointments at home. You see, I merely got off at Junction when I heard of the Cave, and here I've been ever since." "You had as good a time here, as elsewhere, haven't you?" demanded Julie. "Better than I've had in years, but now I must go on. But I want to make a proposition to which your Captain agrees. "Next summer, as soon as school closes, I want you girls to visit my place in the Adirondacks. The reward of money you will receive will pay all expenses for fares and outfits, and I will try to be as fine a host as you were hostesses. Will you?" "You said you were from New York?" argued Joan. "So I am--when I am at home. But I spend most of the year in my Adirondack camp. You see, I am an ardent Boy Scout admirer, and every summer I have a crowd of boys camp in the mountains with me. As I have several thousand acres there, we won't interfere with you girls. In fact, I have just been telling your Captain that I am going to write to Headquarters and offer my place to the Girl Scouts for any number of camps they may see fit to start. I can make it very comfortable for them, as my workmen have cut good roads through the woods and many trails are worn over the surrounding mountains. If you'll agree to establish a flourishing Troop by next spring, I will agree to give you the time of your life." When Mr. Gilroy finished, the scouts were too delighted to speak for a time. Then Julie sprang forward, and threw her arms about his waist. She hugged him so unexpectedly, but withal so tightly, that he gasped for breath. Every one laughed, as it expressed their sentiments exactly. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN NEW MEMBERS "Well, our friend is off! Now what can we do?" wailed Ruth, as the scouts sat disconsolately about the fire. "I wish we could camp in the Adirondacks this summer! We still have August, you know," said Joan. "Mr. Gilroy particularly mentioned _next_ season, and besides, you have to become a registered Troop, before you can accept his invitation," hinted Mrs. Vernon. "I should think we ought to hurry up and begin, then," suggested Julie. "How can we? Those girls in Elmertown will all be away for their vacations, and how can we find them?" grumbled Ruth. "Mr. Gilroy said he had given orders in Freedom that any time we wanted to take a trip about the country, we were to have the automobile he rented that day for the hunt. He said that this would be his present to you this summer because he would not be here personally to take you about," said Mrs. Vernon. "What did you say--did you refuse or accept?" asked Ruth. "At first I said I didn't think he ought to pay for the drives, but he silenced me with a look, and said: 'I have already paid for ten drives in advance--so they must be used up.'" "Hurrah! Then we can go for one to-morrow, can't we?" cried Joan. "I have been planning where to go if we take a drive to-morrow," answered Mrs. Vernon. "Why can't we go to Elmertown, first of all, and find out about the new members. I don't want to postpone that until it is too late to teach them anything. You see, we must get on in scoutdom, so we can visit Mr. Gilroy's place next year," said Julie. "That's what I wanted to suggest, Julie--that we drive home and find out about new members," responded Mrs. Vernon. So the grocer's order-man was told that afternoon to have the chauffeur bring his car up to the crossing of the trail with the woodland road the next morning, where his passengers would be waiting for him. The following day was fair, so the scouts hurried with the camp-work and then ran down the trail to wait for the car. They were soon on the road to Elmertown, enjoying the smooth running of the car over the fine road; after the rough mountain trails, and Hepsy's uncertain going, it was a luxury. Many stops were made in Elmertown, but of all the girls' homes visited only five were available to join the scouts. Many were away on visits, and a few were not allowed to consider joining a camp where escaped convicts were caught behind the walls! This last excuse caused such merriment from the scouts that severe mothers wondered what there could be to laugh at in dangers such as they ran while camping in the woods. The five girls who were so eager to join the scouts, had the willing consent and co-operation from their mothers. So Mrs. Vernon felt it was much better to take girls whose parents appreciated the benefit of the scout work, rather than to have girls whose mothers were waiting to criticise or discourage their children in the undertaking. When the five had been finally decided upon, the Captain notified them that the car would call for them that day week, and they were to be ready to return to camp. "It will take you a week to prepare, girls, for you must write to New York and secure a handbook for each, and not only read it, but study the first rules in the book. We have been doing that since we went to camp, so now you will have to catch up," said Mrs. Vernon. "And rest assured we will give you some awful initiation tests before you become full-fledged members!" threatened Julie. The scouts and the "would-bes" laughed at this, for they knew the tests would be funny ones that would amuse every one. "Only pack sensible things, girls. Middy blouses, a pair of khaki bloomers and a pair of blue serge ones. You'll need a serge dress, too, and a heavy sweater. If you have a light-weight sweater, also, so much the better," advised Mrs. Vernon. The elated scouts-to-be eagerly promised everything, and then watched the car drive away. But they felt no envy or regret for they would be traveling the same road a week hence. "Verny, maybe we ought to be glad we've got all the extra furniture now," ventured Betty, as they climbed the familiar trail and passed by the Royal Suite. "That's so, Verny. We can let the new members furnish their hut with the stuff," said Joan. "Only they haven't any hut," Ruth added. "They will have to build one, like we did, to pass a test in carpentry," remarked Julie. "I think Betty's suggestion better than the one Ruth made last night--that we chop up the furniture for kindlings," now spoke the Captain. "Well, I didn't really mean that, you know! I only said it when I had to go and collect damp wood for the fire," admitted Ruth. That evening as the scouts sat about the camp-fire, Mrs. Vernon remarked: "I wonder if you girls realize how much you have already improved in this one month of camp-life?" They then began to compare notes. "Julie isn't nearly as impulsive as she used to be," said Betty. "But she still has enough left to find fault with," laughed the Captain. "And Betty isn't so preachy as she was when we weeded dandelions on your lawn," commented Ruth. "Betty is beginning to have more confidence, too," added Julie, gazing at her twin in a speculative way. "What about me--how have I improved?" eagerly asked Joan, looking from one to the other of her companions. "You--oh, Joan, you are hopeless!" laughed Julie, whereupon Joan fell upon her and they had a rough-and-tumble time on the grass. "Thus endeth every serious lesson I try to teach," laughed Mrs. Vernon, when the contestants came back to the fire. "I say, scouts: can any one see the improvement in Verny?" now called Julie, in rebuttal of the Captain's last words. But the girls refused to testify, and then a new subject was introduced. "I am sure I heard thunder just then." "I thought I saw a flash a little time ago," added Joan. "Maybe we had better get our things in under cover, then, and be ready to go to bed if it rains," suggested the Captain. Consequently a mad scurrying took place and the scouts were cozily housed when the rain came down. The next morning Mrs. Vernon said: "I have been waiting for spare time to give you scouts a few lessons in first aid, but now that we expect new members in the Patrol, it may be just as well to wait for them. Many can learn as easily as a few individuals." "Still, that need not keep us from having a few tests," replied Joan, who looked for some fun in this practice. "True; and if you have a little lesson now, you ought to be able to help the new members when they come in," added Mrs. Vernon. "All right--let's begin," said Julie. "My first question will be: What would you do for first-aid in case of accident?" Julie giggled: "I'd take mighty good care not to have one! I call that genuine first-aid." The others laughed, and Mrs. Vernon said: "You are right of course, Julie, but that is not what I mean. Because there are many people who meet with accidents, who need aid at once. And there are nine-tenths of the people who know nothing about rendering help properly. However, during the last ten years, due a great deal to scout work, I believe, the schools are taking up this work and teaching children just what to do." "We never had it in our school," said Betty. "Maybe the town is too small to pay an instructor, but all city schools teach first-aid, I'm sure," replied the Captain. "Now, girls, let us be serious in this lesson. "Drop your skirts and practice in your bloomers, as you can move about easier that way." The scouts did as they were told, and then Mrs. Vernon said: "We'll try Betty first, as she is the lightest of you girls. "Now let us pretend Betty went in swimming and was taken suddenly with cramps. She sank. One of you saw her disappear and called on the others for help. You ran to the water's edge and saw some one swim to shore with her; no one but you scouts knew how to revive her, so you went right to work to save her life. "Now, Betty, stretch out on the grass just as you would if you had been dragged in from the water in an unconscious state," advised Mrs. Vernon, helping Betty to repose as she should. The three scouts watching, giggled as this sort of work was fun. When Betty was in the right position, Mrs. Vernon called: "Now scouts, loosen her clothing as quick as possible--because every second counts with her life. "If she has on corsets, unhook them immediately that respiration may not be retarded. If she has on a skirt with tight belt, or other close-fitting garments that prevents circulation, undo them at once, or even cut it open if it can be accomplished in no other way. Now she ought to breathe. Tell me, can she draw her breath easily?" "Can she! She's breathing so hard that I'm afraid she'll explode unless she has a chance to laugh!" retorted Julie. The scouts all laughed, but Mrs. Vernon remained serious, as she knew it would never do to give Julie encouragement. "Now then, empty her lungs of water by laying her, breast downwards, and holding her up by the middle. Julie and Joan do that." Betty was very ticklish, and the moment Julie took hold of her sides, she squirmed and giggled. Julie tried to be severe. "Teacher, this drowned scout won't let me get a good grip on her side. I fear she will have to expire unless she rolls over at once." Even Mrs. Vernon had to laugh at Julie, and Betty said: "Well, I'll roll over, if you'll make Julie stop tickling me." Obliging little Betty then rolled over face downwards, but in a second she was up on her feet, squealing and shaking herself. Every one was surprised, and Julie said aggrievedly: "Now what's the matter?" "Oh, I saw a nasty fat spider running in the grass right under my nose! I wish some one else would drown for me, Verny." The girls laughed, and Julie added: "It's bad enough to have you get cramps and drown without inviting us to follow suit!" "Here, Betty, get down in this short grass where there will be no plump little spiders," advised the Captain. Betty complied, and then the two aids again took their places beside her. "Now we will begin again. Take Betty by the middle, girls, and allow her head to hang down for a few moments to take the water out of her lungs." This lesson was done well, then Mrs. Vernon said: "Now turn the patient face downward on her breast and give artificial respiration." "Explain, Verny--that long word is too much for me," said Julie. "You press the lower ribs down and forward towards the head, then release. Repeat this action twelve times to every minute." Now Julie and Joan worked with a will, and Betty found herself revived far enough to object to their energetic treatment. She had had five respirations administered, and her first-aids were giving the sixth, when Betty kicked out with her heels and tripped Joan over upon her face. "My! This dead one came to mighty quick, Verny. We must be powerful good treaters," laughed Julie. "Scouts, I am sure Betty is well along the road to recovery, so we can go on to the next lesson," laughed Mrs. Vernon. "The next thing to do, is to place heated bottles of water at Betty's feet, and rub her arms and legs briskly, but be sure to always rub towards the heart," said the Captain. "Must I have more treatment?" asked Betty, plaintively. "Sure! You're not all alive yet," laughed Ruth. Julie and Joan began rubbing as they had been told, but Betty suddenly sat up and said: "Last night you said I was becoming more self-confident! All right, now I am so confident that you two girls are each going to get a big kick, that you'd better get out of my way--quick!" "Scouts, don't give up," called Mrs. Vernon, laughingly. "Betty is doing fine, so you must not stop such treatment." "Then you come here and take my place," said Joan, who dodged the kick too often for comfort's sake. "But she must be put in a warm bed, and give her hot drinks, you know. With plenty of fresh air, I trust she will be as well as ever," said Mrs. Vernon. But Betty had managed to kick both her nurses and that ended the lesson. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN THE SCOUTS MEET JOHN DUNSTAN The following day while the scouts were washing the dinner dishes, a young man came across the plateau. He was dressed in nice clothes and wore a straw sailor hat. As he neared the camp, he lifted his hat and smiled. "Why--it's the hunter!" cried Julie, dropping the dish-mop and drying her hands on her apron. "So it is--where is Verny!" added Joan. "Didn't you know me, ladies?" asked the visitor. "You looked so different the other day in your hunting clothes," said Julie, smiling graciously. Ruth and Betty had gone to find the Captain, and now they came back with her. "This is John Dunstan, Verny," said Betty, simply. The young man was invited to sit down with them, and being a genuine son of Nature, he felt quite at ease anywhere, so he began to chat with Mrs. Vernon. [Illustration: _He sat down and began to chat with Mrs. Vernon_] "Granny told me about the scouts calling on her," said he, showing how much he appreciated the visit. "Yes, and we are going again, as we enjoyed our first one so much," said the Captain. "She says you had a son in the aviation field 'over there,'" continued John. "Yes, and I do so want to talk with you about that; but first, let me ask you if you knew of those convicts being at large in the woods the last time you were here to help the scouts finish the roof?" "That was why I wanted to see you," said John. "I had reason to _believe_ that two tramps were somewhere about this mountain, and I feared they might start for the village. If they did, they would come across this camp, and I didn't like to think they might annoy the scouts." "You didn't know they were convicts, then?" said Julie. "If I had, do you suppose I would have allowed you girls to win the honor of catching them? I would have taken them myself." "How could you--all alone?" said Joan. "The same way I rounded up five Huns when they shot down my plane on their side of the battle-line. I managed to get them, too, and marched them across No Man's Land at night, and brought them in prisoners to our Captain." "Oh, oh! tell us all about it?" entreated the girls. "Some other time, scouts, but now I want to answer this lady's questions," said John, laughingly. "Only tell us this much--is that what you got the medal for?" begged Julie. "That, and one other trick I turned," said John, without any sign of self-importance. "My boy enlisted before the United States entered the war," began Mrs. Vernon. "Because we had no air service, he entered the Royal Flying Corps in Canada. He was with them until we declared war on Germany, then he wanted to fight under his own Flag. It was in his first battle as an American Flyer that he was shot down." "I was with the Royal Flying Corps, too, at first. But I didn't get your name, Captain, so I really do not know the name of your son," said John. "Oh, don't you know my name--it is Vernon; and my boy's name was Myles Vernon. He was a Lieutenant in the Lafayette Escadrille." "Why--Mrs. Vernon! Myles and I were flying and fighting together when he was shot down! That is the very battle I was just telling of, when I bluffed the Germans into such fear that they gave up and marched across to the American lines as my prisoners." "Oh, oh, really! How happy I am to find some one who saw him at the last. Do tell me all you know, my boy, for we had very little information to console us." John then told how bravely Myles fought and how he had shot down three planes of the enemy before they got him. "I saw his plane burst into flames but he managed to get into his parachute and cut loose. Then as he dropped nearer the earth, a machine gun riddled the parachute and he fell. "I know he met death instantaneously, for I fell very near the same place, and saw his body immediately afterwards. I was handed the personal effects he had with him, and had charge of them while I spoke to the interpreter who took down the name and address. Then I had to give them over to their authorities. "Mrs. Vernon, I saw the Germans place his body on a bier and carry it away to a house removed from the line of battle. And some weeks later, I visited the lovely little farm where he is buried. It is cared for by a mother who lost three sons for France, and now she takes the greatest joy in caring for the flowers she has planted on American Boys' graves. "I can tell you of many valiant battles Myles Vernon fought, before he was killed in that one. I saw several of these fights myself, and my friends told me of others--when they heard Myles was gone." "Oh, I am so happy to hear this. I feel as if you are the direct answer to prayers. Long have I desired to hear about my boy from some one who knew the facts!" cried Mrs. Vernon, with eyes streaming. "But were you not injured when your plane fell that day?" asked Julie, eagerly. "By some strange freak, the wings caught in a giant tree and stuck there. The upper branches were broken and hung down from the impact, but the lower boughs and trunk stood up firmly beneath the terrific jar. I was so shaken up that they thought my neck was broken, and I pretended to be a great deal worse than I was, because I believed I could find a way to escape. "They left me with the doctor and a few nurses, and when it was learned that I was partly recovered I had to help them. It was the freedom accorded any one who assists in looking after the sick prisoners that opened a way for my escape." The scouts were so anxious to hear all about his experiences that he entertained them the greater part of the afternoon. When he finally stood up to go home, he was begged to come again very soon. "I will tell Granny that you expect to come up and call on her again?" said he, shaking hands with Mrs. Vernon. "Yes, but be sure and come down to see us soon, won't you?" said she. John left, and Mrs. Vernon excused herself for a time. She went in the old hut, and Julie leaned over to whisper: "Now she'll go and cry herself to pieces!" "No, Julie, I think she is going to pray out her thanks to God for His mercy in sending her such glorious news of her boy," returned Betty, gently. And Betty was right. For when the Captain returned to the scouts, her face was shining with a radiance that seldom was seen on her face. "Girls, where shall we have the new members build their hut?" asked she, as if nothing had ever caused her to think of aught but the scouts and their work. "Why not move Hepsy's shed along and have them use that site for their house?" suggested Joan. After much planning and arguing, it was decided that the new members could choose their own site and choice of building. "They may prefer to live in a tent--for all we know," said Ruth. The four scouts worked hard all that week to present as fine a camp as could be found to the new members, and when the five girls drove up in the car to taste the joys of a scout camp, they were duly impressed with the order and neatness of everything about the camp. How these nine girls formed a Troop of splendid Girl Scouts, how they won badges for prowess in many tests and trials, and how they were the envy of all the school-girls in Elmertown, is too long a tale to tell here. But this much can be said: The reward for the $1000 was paid over to the scouts, and the Captain placed it in the Bank of Freedom, to the account of "Girls of Dandelion Patrol." That was the beginning of their savings to pay expenses of a Camp in the Adirondacks the following season. And how they finally went to the much-longed-for camp where Mr. Gilroy welcomed them for a whole summer's visit, is told in the second volume of the Girl Scouts Mountain series, called "Dandelion Troop in the Adirondacks." _This Isn't All!_ Would you like to know what became of the good friends you have made in this book? Would you like to read other stories continuing their adventures and experiences, or other books quite as entertaining by the same author? On the _reverse side_ of the wrapper which comes with this book, you will find a wonderful list of stories which you can buy at the same store where you got this book. _Don't throw away the Wrapper_ _Use it as a handy catalog of the books you want some day to have. But in case you do mislay it, write to the Publishers for a complete catalog._ GIRL SCOUTS SERIES By LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY Author of the "Polly Brewster Books" Handsomely Bound. Colored Wrappers. Illustrated Each Volume Complete in Itself. Here is a series that holds the same position for girls that the Tom Slade and Roy Blakeley books hold for boys. They are delightful stories of Girl Scout camp life amid beautiful surroundings and are filled with stirring adventures. GIRL SCOUTS AT DANDELION CAMP This is a story which centers around the making and the enjoying of a mountain camp, spiced with the fun of a lively troop of Girl Scouts. The charm of living in the woods, of learning woodcraft of all sorts, of adventuring into the unknown, combine to make a busy and an exciting summer for the girls. GIRL SCOUTS IN THE ADIRONDACKS New scenery, new problems of camping, association with a neighboring camp of Boy Scouts, and a long canoe trip with them through the Fulton Chain, all in the setting of the marvelous Adirondacks, bring to the girls enlargement of horizon, new development, and new joys. GIRL SCOUTS IN THE ROCKIES On horseback from Denver through Estes Park as far as the Continental Divide, climbing peaks, riding wild trails, canoeing through canyons, shooting rapids, encountering a landslide, a summer blizzard, a sand storm, wild animals, and forest fires, the girls pack the days full with unforgettable experiences. GIRL SCOUTS IN ARIZONA AND NEW MEXICO The Girl Scouts visit the mountains and deserts of Arizona and New Mexico. They travel over the old Santa Fe Trail, cross the Painted Desert, and visit the Grand Canyon. Their exciting adventures form a most interesting story. GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK THE LILIAN GARIS BOOKS Attractively Bound. Illustrated. Individual Colored Wrappers. Every Volume Complete in Itself. Lilian Garis is one of the writers who always wrote. She expressed herself in verse from early school days and it was then predicted that Lilian Mack would one day become a writer. Justifying this sentiment, while still at high school, she took charge of the woman's page for a city paper and her work there attracted such favorable attention that she left school to take entire charge of woman's work for the largest daily in an important Eastern city. Mrs. Garis turned to girls' books directly after her marriage, and of these she has written many. She believes in girls, studies them and depicts them with pen both skilled and sympathetic.   GLORIA: A GIRL AND HER DAD   GLORIA AT BOARDING SCHOOL   JOAN: JUST GIRL   JOAN'S GARDEN OF ADVENTURE   CONNIE LORING'S AMBITION   CONNIE LORING'S DILEMMA GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK AMY BELL MARLOWE'S BOOKS FOR GIRLS Charming, Fresh and Original Stories Illustrated. Wrappers printed in colors with individual design for each story Miss Marlowe's books for girls are somewhat of the type of Miss Alcott and also Mrs. Meade; but all are thoroughly up-to-date and wholly American in scene and action. Good, clean absorbing tales that all girls thoroughly enjoy. THE OLDEST OF FOUR; Or, Natalie's Way Out. A sweet story of the struggles of a live girl to keep a family from want. THE GIRLS AT HILLCREST FARM; Or, The Secret of the Rocks. Relating the trials of two girls who take boarders on an old farm. A LITTLE MISS NOBODY; Or, With the Girls of Pinewood Hall. Tells of a school girl who was literally a nobody until she solved the mystery of her identity. THE GIRL FROM SUNSET RANCH; Or, Alone in a Great City. A ranch girl comes to New York to meet relatives she has never seen. Her adventures make unusually good reading. WYN'S CAMPING DAYS; Or, The Outing of the GO-AHEAD CLUB. A tale of happy days on the water and under canvas, with a touch of mystery and considerable excitement. FRANCES OF THE RANGES; Or, The Old Ranchman's Treasure. A vivid picture of life on the great cattle ranges of the West. THE GIRLS OF RIVERCLIFF SCHOOL; Or, Beth Baldwin's Resolve. This is one of the most entertaining stories centering about a girls' school that has ever been written. WHEN ORIOLE CAME TO HARBOR LIGHT. The story of a young girl, cast up by the sea, and rescued by an old lighthouse keeper. WHEN ORIOLE TRAVELED WESTWARD. Oriole visits the family of a rich ranchman and enjoys herself immensely. GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK THE BLYTHE GIRLS BOOKS By LAURA LEE HOPE Individual Colored Wrappers Text Illustrations by THELMA GOOCH Every Volume Complete in Itself The Blythe girls, three in number, were left alone in New York City. Helen, who went in for art and music, kept the little flat uptown, while Margy just out of a business school, obtained a position as a private secretary and Rose, plain-spoken and business-like, took what she called a "job" in a department store. THE BLYTHE GIRLS: HELEN, MARGY AND ROSE; Or, Facing the Great World. A fascinating tale of real happenings in the great metropolis. THE BLYTHE GIRLS: MARGY'S QUEER INHERITANCE; Or, The Worth of a Name. The girls had a peculiar old aunt and when she died she left an unusual inheritance. This tale continues the struggle of all the girls for existence. THE BLYTHE GIRLS: ROSE'S GREAT PROBLEM; Or, Face to Face With a Crisis. Rose still at work in the big department store, is one day faced with the greatest problem of her life. A tale of mystery as well as exciting girlish happenings. THE BLYTHE GIRLS: HELEN'S STRANGE BOARDER; Or, The Girl From Bronx Park. Helen, out sketching, goes to the assistance of a strange girl, whose real identity is a puzzle to all the Blythe girls. Who the girl really was comes as a tremendous surprise. THE BLYTHE GIRLS: THREE ON A VACATION; Or, The Mystery at Peach Farm. The girls close their flat and go to the country for two weeks--and fall in with all sorts of curious and exciting happenings. How they came to the assistance of Joe Morris, and solved a queer mystery, is well related. GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK THE POLLY BREWSTER SERIES By LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY Durably Bound. Illustrated. Colored Wrappers. Every Volume Complete in Itself. A delightful series for girls in which they will follow Polly and Eleanor through many interesting adventures and enjoyable trips. POLLY OF PEBBLY PIT Tells about a Rocky Mountain ranch girl and her many adventures. POLLY AND ELEANOR Eleanor Maynard visits Polly at the Ranch and they have lively times. POLLY IN NEW YORK Polly and Eleanor visit New York and have a number of very interesting experiences. POLLY AND HER FRIENDS ABROAD The girls go abroad and spend most of their time with other American travelers. POLLY'S BUSINESS VENTURE Polly and Eleanor take up interior decorating. They attend sales of antiques and incidentally fall in love. POLLY'S SOUTHERN CRUISE A hurricane and cloud-burst threatens to swamp the vessel in which Polly and her friends take this trip. POLLY IN SOUTH AMERICA Polly and her friends land at many funny old towns and have several exciting adventures not altogether pleasant. GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK 
38030	----	produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) [Illustration: "LOOK, GIRLS! UP ON THE ROCK! THERE'S PEG!"] The Girl Scouts at Camp Comalong Lilian Garis 1921 CONTENTS: CHAPTER I--THE ACORN CHAPTER II--PETE'S PROLOGUE CHAPTER III--SHIPSHAPING CHAPTER IV--AN ANGEL UNAWARES CHAPTER V--A STOLEN LOOK AROUND CHAPTER VI--OPENING DAY CHAPTER VII--THE LOVING BANDIT CHAPTER VIII--GLOW OF THE CAMPFIRE'S GLEAM CHAPTER IX--A DAY WITH THE BOBBIES CHAPTER X--MEET BUZZ AND FUSS CHAPTER XI--THE FOOD SHOWER CHAPTER XII--A RECORD BREAKER CHAPTER XIII--DANGER SIGNALS CHAPTER XIV--THE ALGONQUIN EPISODE CHAPTER XV--A PADDLE, A SWIM AND A SUN DIAL CHAPTER XVI--A DARING INTRUDER CHAPTER XVII--THE GRANITE STAR CLUE CHAPTER XVIII--A CALL IN THE NIGHT CHAPTER XIX--SHAG: THE ALARM CLOCK CHAPTER XX--THE ROOM OF MYSTERY CHAPTER XXI--A SURPRISE INDEED CHAPTER XXII--PEG OF TAMARACK HILLS CHAPTER I THE ACORN It was Corene's idea. She had just returned from a glorious two weeks spent in a real Girl Scouts' Camp, and the brief time acted like a whiff of something good, and it tasted like more and Corene wanted it. "Two weeks!" she repeated moodily. "What can you expect?" queried Louise. "Everyone must have a turn." "And two weeks make a real vacation for many girls," insisted Cleo. "Two weeks spent right in one spot--in the ocean, for instance, would seem an awful long time to me," said fun-making Grace. "Besides all that, you went away to camp early on account of having finished your school work," Cleo reminded her, "and consequently those very two weeks are so much extra. We haven't gone away at all yet." "I know," agreed the abused one, "and please don't slap me, or do anything like that, girls. I have just been thinking of those wonderful days----" She slid down and thrust her feet out so suddenly and determinedly that she upset a harmless little vase, water, flowers and all, right on the floor of the recreation room. It was one of the many "last days" of school. The group of girls in the Essveay School made the usual vacation plans, remade them and then amiably agreed to those made by home and mother; but all this in no way affected the present outburst of enthusiasm. By rare good fortune many of the girls were privileged to spend their summers along the Jersey coast, or in the mountains between New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania, and the intimacy of their school days was thus uninterrupted. "Then, Corene," returned Cleo, "what do you intend to do about it? You can't hope to go back again to the big camp?" "Oh, no; I suppose not. But everything will seem so tame," lamented the bobbed-haired girl. "Tame!" repeated Louise. "You always have a livelier time out in Llynardo than we do at Sea Crest. At least you don't have to change your costume three or four times a day." "I wouldn't do it," returned Corene. "What's the sense in going away for a good time and spending it amusing other folks?" "How so, amusing other folks?" repeated Julia. "Surely no one dresses to amuse herself," retorted the practical Corene. "I like pretty things, and all that, but I hate summer simping. Buddie calls it 'simping,' although he probably means primping." "When we put on our Scout uniform last year we saved a lot of that," reflected Cleo. "Which was it, Scout uniform or riding-habit, Cleo? It seems to me you spent a lot of time on horseback," Julia reminded her. "And I intend to do the same this year as well," declared Cleo. "That's the reason we are going to the mountains." "Same here," agreed Louise. "We had a good time riding last year, but there were days when the sun was too hot. Now, under the trees in the mountains----" A sudden breeze blew in and sent layers of papers flying about. "There you are!" commented Corene. "There's your mountain breeze, girls. No use bothering going any further." "Oh, h-h--!" sighed a chorus. "If it would only stay," continued Cleo. "What is so hot as a day in June?" she misquoted. "The first hot day in September, after school opens," answered Louise, fanning her flushed cheeks with Julia's latest story. "At any rate, let's go into classroom and try that science puzzle again. I'm not sure whether I made a bug or a bird for the seven-year locust." It was that evening, when these girls as neighbors had gathered on Julia's porch, that the subject of a summer camp was taken up with added interest. "I've been talking to mother about it," said Julia, "and she agrees we could have a much healthier and even happier time if we went to the mountains. We might miss the bathing----" "But we will have the lake--the wonderful, pretty, friendly old Lake Hocomo!" enthused Cleo. "The ocean is lovely, of course, but don't you think it's awfully samey?" "Samey? Oh, you mean similarly," joked Louise. "No, she means monotonously," ventured Grace. "Or synonymously," added Corene. "Say, girls!" asked Cleo, "were we talking about the ocean or false syntax? I've sort of strayed off a little. I think I recall, however, that the lake was said to be lovely, and I'm willing to stick to that. Who votes for the lake?" "I do!" "I do!" "I do!" everyone voted for it, so it was agreed again that all would go to the lake, if their folks went with them, of course. And then Corene returned to her story of the wonders of camp life. "But didn't you have to wash a lot of horrid dishes?" asked Grace. "We washed dishes, certainly," replied the favored one, "but it was fun doing it. We had races at it and prizes, and when one does things that way it's fun, you know." "I'm going to try that with Benny," declared Grace. "Our folks are again maidless, so Benny and I help. I'll race Benny and offer my class pin as prize," she decided. "Your class pin for Benny? Why, Grace! You dishonor the Essveays. Make it a buckle or a barrette. Either would be just as useful to Benny. He's sure to win, we all know that, for boys always win at anything they try out," declared Julia. "Yes, by dumping dishes in, and dumping them out, and putting them over the gas oven to dry," retorted Grace. "That's the way a boy is so sure to win in a dish-washing contest. But never mind that. Tell us, Corey, what do you propose for camp?" "Make one, build one, run one," she proposed simply. "Just like that!" added Cleo, with a chuckle. "Do you mean on paper or in the woods, Corey?" "In the woods, certainly," again came the measured reply, and it didn't measure very much at that. "Oh, be a dear and tell us how," begged Louise, settling herself in the cushions of the porch swing for a real story. "I want to dream about something other than school to-night, and I'd just love it to be camp." "A nice, wild, grizzly bear camp," added Grace. She skidded over to the swing and squirmed in beside Louise. "There are no bears at Lake Hocomo," said Cleo, "that is, there are none there now; although to hear dad talk of his boyhood vacations there, one might think the zoo was originally stocked from that region. At any rate, Corey, splutter along with the plan, but don't make me wash dishes. Leave them to the prize contestants," with a shot of rose-ball at Grace. "Very well," decided Corene, "and this is my idea." They all settled back comfortably now, for Corene did not usually give out her "ideas" until they had been very carefully formulated. She was the acknowledged leader in athletics among her group, she would rather go to the gym than to a party, she took toe dancing long after her friends gave up the "childish art," and she had aspirations towards physical culture as a profession, to be adopted by her after she had acquired a thorough knowledge of everything pertaining to it. That was Corene's way. "We are all to go to Lake Hocomo this year," she began in preliminary argument for the camp idea. "Yes'm," chirped Julia. "And we are going to have our own riding club," suggested Cleo, who would agree to anything that included horseback riding. "All right, Cleo, that can be arranged, of course," said Corene. "But it is not a--what do you call it?" "Fundamental!" offered Louise. "That's it. We will decide first on our fundamentals. The very first is a camp. For that we must organize a patrol consisting of eight girls," said the capable Corene. "We can have those we had last year, and all of them have been attending Scout meetings this winter," put in Julia. "Yes, we won't have any trouble with our eight, but we may have trouble not making it eighteen," said Cleo. "We always have a lot of calls from girls who want to come in, you know." "Yes, but we must be efficient," insisted the logical leader. "We couldn't take in girls and let them call themselves Scouts if they had not gone through all the tests." "Of course not," agreed Louise. She was always apt to agree on limitations. Louise was a bit conservative that way. "But we may find other girls at the lake who are qualified--who are regular Scouts, you know," put in Cleo the democrat. "A patrol should be composed of eight," insisted Corene, "and when a rule of that kind is decided by the organization we may be sure it is the best. So let it be eight." "Remember those famous lines, 'We Are Seven'?" recalled Cleo. "We may transpose them to 'We Are Eight' and I'll get brother Jerry to put a tune to them. Oh, really, girls, I can see the camp all ready. Shall we have to build it, Corey?" "If you don't run over me in the telling I may get something told, bye-and-bye," complained Corene. "We may have to build our camp if we want one far enough away from the cottages, and I don't think any other kind is worth while." "No, of course it isn't," agreed Julia. "We don't want to put up a few curtains in a garage and pay ten dollars to have an artistic sign made for it, then call that combination a camp." This brought out the rollicking spirits for which the little group was justly famous, and the cushion fight that followed was a spasm of pure mirth. Little girls they were, indeed; although each of them had earned a grammar grade certificate that opened to her the doors of "High," yet the spirit of care-free little-girlishness was still happily theirs, and it was a matter of complete congeniality that bound them together, year after year, from Primary to Grammar, and now from Grammar to High. "If we are always going to end up with some silly nonsense," said Julia sagely, although she was personally more responsible for pillow tossing than were the others, "I don't see how we will ever get anything planned." "We don't really have to make plans now," Grace qualified. "All we have to do is just to talk about them." "That's about all we can do," said Corene, "but we have all voted for a camp, haven't we?" A shout of enthusiastic assent followed the question. "Then, just remember you have all promised to do your part toward making and keeping that camp," warned the instigator. "Do we take guns for big woozy wolves?" asked Grace, growling descriptively. "And axes to cut down our timber with?" put in Cleo. "Remember Buddie's sling shot? I'll be sure to take that for hooty owls," added Louise. "Please don't get the idea that we may shoot things, or injure birds, or do any such cruel things," counselled Corene. "Of course I know you wouldn't hurt a spider, Louise," she hurried to explain, "but I am still so filled with real camp rules I sort of blow them off now and again." "We will give you plenty of time and opportunity to apply your rules, Corey," said Julia, "and just think, only three days more!" "Oh, h--h--h!" came the chorus common to every school grade that actually faces the final "three days." But they were too care-free to even anticipate what the camp prospect might hold for them. Not all the adventures of the woods are limited to "woozy bears and hooty owls." Which recalls something of their experiences as told in the other volumes of this series. It was in "The Girl Scout Pioneers, or Winning The First B. C." that this same group of girls went through some interesting Scouting in a Pennsylvania mill town. Two foreign girls, Dagmar and Tessie, "wandered far afield" but were finally brought under the influence of the Scout movement through a most dramatic climax. The second volume, "The Girl Scouts at Bellaire," is the story of the lost orchid. The precious bulb was brought from Central America but lost _en route_, and when Maid Mary, the queer little flower girl, was eventually won over to trust the Scouts, they came upon the priceless orchid as it struggled to grow through the arm of a saw-dust doll. "The Girl Scouts at Sea Crest" has a very queer girl, Kitty Scuttle, for its heroine. This girl lives on a mysterious island upon which no one is allowed to land. But the Girl Scouts find a way, and when they do so they also find out how to rescue Kitty and the millionaire child, Royal. This little Peter Panish boy has been hidden on Looney Island by an unscrupulous nurse. So it happens that the summer opening and for which the girls are planning must indeed be a time replete with adventure, if the reputation of this group of Girl Scouts is to be maintained. CHAPTER II PETE'S PROLOGUE Into Lake Hocomo a setting sun was emptying its paint pots of every color left over from the day's journey around the world, or the world's journey around the sun; spilling out into the safe waters its blazing hues and sending streams of colored fires adrift into the lake's helpless basin, in the final hour's work of a day full of worlds and worlds of heat and color. Along the banks of the lake and from many favorably situated cottages, an admiring audience was wont to view "the wonderful sunset," although the season furnished the same sort of spectacle from March to October, varied only in degrees of beauty and more beauty. The Girl Scouts, they who were already planning a real camp for the summer, were among those seated out on the landing, a pier that extended far enough into the water to give depth for the "steamers" that carried passengers up and down the eight mile stretch of water. These girls looked at the sunset and made remarks somewhat intelligent, but being just normal girls they could hardly have been expected to "take a fit" over it, as some others were accused of doing. "There she goes!" exclaimed Grace, irrelevantly. "Just see how she rides!" The girls turned quickly from their position of facing the lake to that of facing the road that ran parallel, but in spite of their promptness they almost missed seeing a girl dash by on horseback; in fact the blue roan pony she rode looked like some wild black animal of the forest, as it plunged into the grove of thick trees that skirted the lake at this curve; and the rider appeared nothing more than a brown spot on the roan's back as he galloped away. "I wonder who she can be?" queried Cleo. "Jealous?" teased Grace, for Cleo was fond of horses and their sports. "No, indeed," replied the other. "But that girl can ride. I saw her go over the hills this afternoon and her horse stumbled in a hole, but she just hugged him for it. Bare-back, too." "I think we may all be jealous of her," added Louise. "The old boatman, Pete, told me to-day she is regarded as the original Scout around here." "Then she better be jealous of us," commented Corene, "for we are going to be the real Scouts now. What's her name?" "Peg," replied Julia. "I just heard someone say 'there goes Peg.'" "Nice little name," commented Cleo, "but when Margaret comes she may also claim it. I wonder why this Peg wears that outfit? She looks like a cow-boy girl." "I haven't seen her close by; she is always going like the wind when I happen to get a glimpse of her," followed Julia. "But you may be sure she is someone very interesting. Her mere make-up proclaims that." "Proclaims!" taunted Grace. "Has your diploma done that to you, Jule? I would say her make-up gives her away." "Gives what away?" challenged Julia. "The fact that she's queer." "How queer?" "Very queer." Grace was not easily conquered. "Please don't quarrel over her, girls; she may be nothing of the sort," intervened Louise. "Any girl fond of horses is apt to look queer." This brought Cleo to her feet, but Louise was too quick for her, and the playful race ended in the usual slumping down on a stump, with a heartily sighed "Oh, dear!" from the breathless Louise. "There's Pete coming in with the launch now," remarked Julia, pointing to the graceful little bark that brushed so lightly over the waters toward the dock. "Let's ask him about Peg." "And sit in his launch while he waits for passengers," suggested Grace. "Come on, Clee and Weasy!" she called to the racers. "Come over here!" Quickly the little flock gathered and swooped down upon Pete's pretty launch. The boatman was not opposed to entertaining attractive passengers, even if they didn't "go out." They looked nice in the boat and old Pete had an eye for appearances. "Oh, say, Pete," began Grace in her direct way. "Who's that girl they call Peg?" "Peg?" repeated the captain. "You mean the gallopin' girl that scares all the chickens and runs down all the auto-mo-beels?" "Yes, the one that's always on horseback," agreed Grace. "That's Peg--hasn't got no other name as I know of, but they allus calls her 'Peg of Tamarack Hills,' 'count o' the place she lives, over in yon hills." "Is she queer?" put in Julia, making sure of another cushion. (What would summer be without cushions?) "Depends upon what you mean by queer," returned the boatman, and the girls laughed at the trouble that little word seemed prone to make. "She's so fly-away," ventured Louise. "Yes, she's that, all of it," answered Pete. "But she's a right smart girl, I'll tell ye. She does many a good turn for us men who have to stick by our boats. Why, I've known the day last winter----" "Does she stay here all winter?" inquired Cleo. "Sure does, every day o' the year finds Peg over in them hills. An' she rides away to school like a girl in a picture book," described the man. He was obviously a good friend of Peg's. "Who does she live with?" put in Grace. "An aunt; a nice old lady, too. Miss Ramsdell. She takes care of Peg so far as Peg'll let her; but looks like more times than enough, Peg takes care of Aunt Carrie. I was goin' to tell you about last winter," he resumed. "Wait a minute till I pull up that canvas. There, we'll have more light now." He gave a furtive glance about the dock for prospective passengers, and seeing none heading toward his landing he continued: "We was runnin' ice boats last winter, when the boys was cuttin' the ice, and folks came out from the city with an idea we had airoplanes on runners out here. Well, one day came a sudden thaw and the ice melted quick. The cutters was all down there along the canal, and this lake is mighty deep, you know. Well, without warning nor nauthin', not even a crack to give the fellers a signal, the ice split up, and Marx Hoppler went under before he could get away." "Oh, was he drowned?" exclaimed Grace. "He went under so quick--and you can guess what it would be to slide under the ice on this lake. Well, finally," Pete touched the button that lighted his headlight, "we got Marx out, and he just seemed to be froze stiff. It happened Peg was along o' the dock. There was lots of folks gathered 'round in a hurry but no wagons, and would you believe it that little Scout had someone lift Marx on her horse, stiff and dead-like, and she got away down to the doctor's with him before the rest of us realized what she was about!" "Good Scouting!" exclaimed Corene. "You betcha!" agreed Pete; "and the doc said it was just in the nick o' time and saved Marx's life. I tell you, folks around here'll stand by Peg, but of course, strangers is apt to be critical," he finished. "We will have to call on her, we're Scouts too, you know, Pete," said Julia. "Yes, I know. You look real smart in them natty little suits, too. I like the looks of them first rate," admired Pete. "But as for callin' on Peg, it can't be done." "Why?" came a chorus. "She won't have any callers. Her place is barred and locked and pretty near has dynamite planted around it." He chuckled merrily at the idea. "Yes, sir-ree! Peg don't want no one to bother her and she won't allow anyone to do it. Too bad, too, a little girl like her had ought ta have girl friends." "I knew she was queer," insisted Grace. "Well, you might call it that----" Pete stopped to take an order for a ride to the other end of the lake, and the girls hopped out to stay ashore. "There, you see," said Louise, "we can't possibly ask her to join our troop." "Or _get_ her to join it, you mean, Weasy. It seems to me that a girl who can do as big a thing as carry a half frozen man on her horse has a good right to be called the original Scout, and I am going to do all I can to find out more about her," declared Corene. "Look out for the dynamite," cautioned Julia. "That makes it more interesting," commented Cleo. "Louise, let's get horses to-morrow and ride over Tamarack Hills?" "Maybe," replied Louise. "Will you go, Corey?" "Can't possibly," replied Corene, "and I doubt that you two should. I thought we all agreed to get right down to camp work?" "Oh, all right," and Cleo's voice hinted an apology for her proposed breaking away from the camp work. "It will be best to get the camp settled before the other temptations tempt us too strongly. But the water, and the woods and the birds! A ride over the hills with Peg would be my idea of real fun, Corey, but you're boss--patrol leader I mean--and I am always willing to obey!" "Yes--you are!" drawled Grace. "At any rate, I'm crazy about the camp idea, and I am willing to get it going," insisted Cleo. "Very well, let's see you prove it," retorted Corene, "for the things are in the freight station now, and to-morrow we will have to set about getting them delivered." Then the strains of uncertain music that floated down from the Inn announced the call of summer time entertainment at the little hotel. "Come on up and watch them dance, for a while," proposed Grace. And they ran, even up a hill, for running seemed to be as important as breathing itself to those jolly little Scout girls. CHAPTER III SHIPSHAPING Just to show that grown folks, when they are home-grown, appreciate children's aspirations and often delight in promoting them, the equipment for Camp Comalong when it "camalong" was a big surprise indeed. Parents of the little troop, the "Junior Bobolinks" as they decided to call themselves, united in procuring a regulation outfit for the girls; and the site finally chosen was on a hill overlooking the lake, near enough other camps and especially near to one camp in which was "housed" a club of Normal School young women, secretly pledged to "have an eye" on Camp Comalong. The girls could scarcely believe that all the freight consignment piled up on the small floor of that office could really be for them. Corene "fell to" immediately and took charge. She ordered the others about as if she were a qualified directress, indeed, and sent each on a different errand somewhere: to get a couple of express men to cart the stuff to the grounds, to get a carpenter to cut some strong tent pegs, to get the hammers, the saws, the hatchets and so many necessary implements that it seemed the Bobolinks were not going to follow out the primitive living system of their namesakes, the little birds that sing as they fly, and seem to need the songs to propel the wings, as each fluttering movement is accompanied by its fluttering song. But speed was the important issue with the "Bobbies," so whatever they may have overlooked in the way of real Scout endurance and personal labor for the establishment of the camp, they surely made up for with their enthusiasm and direct energy. The ownership of a horse and wagon, or of anything that would run (at times) by motor, was all that a man at the lake needed to qualify him as an "expressman," hence the necessity of looking for more than one of such conveyances to get the equipment out to the woods in time to begin work that day. "If we leave it all to old Sam it will get there by the end of the week," reasoned Corene, "and we must get things moving. Louise, ask the grocer if he will take these boxes for us." "But why not take one of our cars?" suggested Julia. "You may have ours this morning, I'm sure." "No, thank you, Julie. This stuff is rough and scratchy, and there's no use starting out to damage things. But isn't it too wonderful? These are real army tents and there's a----" "Flagpole!" sang out Cleo. "I should think we might have found a dead tree for that purpose." "I believe our family made that contribution," said Grace. "Mother was afraid we would start out wrong and not have the colors right away, so she ordered a flag and pole." "Oh, how lovely!" exclaimed Cleo. "Of course a handsome flag should fly from a proper standard bearer. I never suspected we were going to have such a complete outfit." "The flag is at our cottage," added Grace. "Benny will bring it over as soon as we are ready. It's a perfect beauty--size six by four." "Oh, and we can raise and lower the colors and all that!" enthused Julia. "Now we know how much better fun all this is than just dressing up at some fashionable summer place." "Heaps," agreed Corene. "But I say, girls, we don't really have to stand around here waiting to see all this put on the wagons----" "I would never trust those indifferent men to get it sent out to-day if we didn't just stay here and superintend," declared Cleo. "I have two promises for two men with light trucks. Let's see if either will come." So the real work began. But it was all so novel, and the woods smelled so of the pines and cedars and larches--no wonder that spot had been given the name Tamarack Hills. By night fall the camp site had been cleared; the girls raised a pretty crop of blisters in their frantic efforts to get things cut down. The tent pegs were all driven in, Benny and his Boy Scout friends helped with the driving, but the hoisting of the tent was considered too important a task to be left to "such little girls," so much against the ambition of Corene that piece of work was actually done by a corps of real Scouts--to wit--three very interested fathers, who came to the camp site in the autos that brought them from the early evening train. For the sake of identification we will call these gentlemen after their daughters, so it was Mr. Cleo who ran the ridge pole under the center of the tent, while Messrs. Julia and Louise, at the signal, raised the tent by lifting the poles and carrying them to their places. It took some little time to get the big canvas house properly adjusted, but it was worth all the trouble. "Hurrah!" shouted the Bobbies as their headquarters was finally in evidence. "How can we ever go home and leave it to-night?" bewailed Grace. "Folks at home are worrying lest you have worked too hard to-day," declared the man with the big gray car. "You must come along, kiddies." "But we didn't, daddy, really," protested Corene. "We loafed more than we worked. There was so much to see and so many things to distract us. I'm not one bit tired." "Oh, h-h-h!" groaned Louise, almost falling into Cleo's arms. "She isn't a bit tired! I'm dead!" "But Corey is always in such good form," said Julia. "This is where all her exercising comes in." They were gathering up such tools and accessories as could not be left around on the grounds over night, and incidentally gathering up themselves, when the clap-clap-clippity-clap of horse's hoofs was heard coming over the hills. The road was narrow, merely a way driven into a road by the campers' use, and as the car with the Bobbies' fathers and the newly organized camp troop carefully picked their way out into the broader thoroughfare, Peg, the girl rider, came into sight. "There she is!" Grace gave the usual announcement, and this time the girls had opportunity for a close-up view of the interesting, original Girl Scout of Tamarack Hills. She pulled her horse up to allow the cars to pass, and it seemed to the Scouts that she deliberately tossed her head up in a defiant pose that turned her face away from them. But in spite of this they obtained a good view of the rider. She wore a suit, the origin of which would be at once proclaimed "Western." The divided skirt was of brown leather with that picturesque fringe slashed in, so markedly popular in pictures of Mexican or Southwestern girl riders, her blouse "matched horribly," as Cleo put it, for while it was Indian in design, and also carried the slashed fringe, the material was common khaki, well washed out and deplorably faded. It might have been part of a boy's play suit, for it seemed in no way related either to the girl or to her leather riding skirt. Her hat was broad brimmed and of tan felt--still another shade of the various browns, and again suggesting another inception. It looked a "whole lot like the Boy Scouts' hat," whispered Grace. Surprising to relate, this girl had neither the popularly featured "bronze, red nor sunny hair," and it was dark, black actually; nor did it curl the least bit, for what fell over the ears (it was cropped very short) glistened even in the twilight. All this was observable because in the narrow road the cars were almost stopped, and Peg's horse nosed right up to Cleo, with a very friendly whinnie. "Dads might think we are looking for that sort of thing," whispered the conservative Louise. And if to be camp Scouts should mean "that sort of thing," her caution, just then, seemed warranted. CHAPTER IV AN ANGEL UNAWARES Between settling the camp and agreeing with one another on details, the "Bobbies" were a busy little band for days after the canvas had been stretched and the ropes pegged down. It seemed so simple to wish for a camp and get it, but now that simplicity assumed complex proportions, and while it was all fascinating to the very point of thrills, yet the details were very exacting. The tent was just large enough to take in the eight cots and to shelter such equipment as should be protected from the elements; but it now appeared there was so much to be "sheltered" and so many "luxuries" to be provided for, at the suggestion of the girls who had not learned real Scout camping as Corene had done, that the adjuncts in the way of "lean-tos" and annexes being made or proposed to be made by any or all members of the squad, threatened presently to be bigger and more important than the tent itself. Every girl came daily armed with her Scout books, if for no other purpose than to offset Corene's objections to "cluttering things up." It was first arranged to have a heavy matting put over the sod for flooring, and a rug had been promptly donated, but again the grown-ups had a say, and real flooring was ordered and put on a high foundation, so that there would be less danger of colds from dampness. If Cleo could be kept from stringing up strips of cretonne "to give color" she might have done something useful; while Julia's joy in building the stone oven outside, threatened to keep her busy for the entire vacation. Louise ran to "table fixin's." She was responsible for a rustic "sideboard" made from the empty barrels and discarded freight boards, curtained effectively with the water-proof burlap, and gaily flaunting a real wood fern in a red nail keg right in the center of the top shelf. Standing off and viewing these artistic achievements took a lot of time, and incidentally left a lot of more important work unfinished. "Where are we going to put the food?" demanded dainty Julia. "Not out there for the flies, Weasy!" "No, certainly not," said Louise. "I don't have anything to do with the food. That goes with the kitchen work." "And whose work is that?" Corene laid down her hammer to ask. "Whose?" asked the others. "Everyone's," came back Corene. "We must take turns at that, but we must make arrangements for the 'eats' right away. Who has been down to the spring?" Everyone had. "Could we hang our butter and meat in pails in the water?" asked Corey. She had seen this done in a real Scout camp. "We might, but what about the animals?" inquired Cleo. "Oh, we can get real strong pails and stake them down so that small animals can't touch the food," said the leader. "And have horrid, old scaly snakes sniffing it!" protested Grace. "We wouldn't eat the sniffs," retorted Corene. "At any rate we must have a cool place for food and can't think of ice. I wonder what the Norms do?" "Oh, the Normal camp girls," explained Cleo. "I think they have grub traps set in the spring, but it runs directly past their door." "It's right over by that rock, isn't it?" asked Corene. "Yes, there's a nice little puddley basin in that big stone," replied Julia. "Then it's easy to fix. We can run it right along here," Corene was drawing a very crooked line in the trampled earth, with her homemade broom handle. "How can we bring the spring over here?" scoffed Louise. "It goes straight down the other way." "We'll dig a little ditch, of course," insisted Corene. "Or if we're too busy to do it, and we probably will be for days to come, we'll get the boys to make one for us. The earth isn't rooty here, see, it's nice and soft," she poked up a ditch in illustration. "And it will be splendid to have running water at the door for other purposes." "Corey, you ought to be a plumber!" roared Grace, precipitating one of those unwarranted outbursts of mirth that always ended work for the time being. The girls were just like that, and they couldn't seem to help it. The appearance of a surprised bunny on a stump checked the hilarity, and the inexperienced ones wanted to throw cracker crumbs to the stubby-tailed, long-eared little animal. "And make a house pet of it!" exclaimed Corene. "Can you imagine that bunny stealing your fudge, Louise? He wouldn't know it was stealing if you made him 'to home' like that." "Seems to me," Louise frowned, "knowledge always makes one snippy. I don't mean that you are snippy, Corey dear, but to turn away a nice, little, gray bunny, because we know he will come again if we treat him decently. Doesn't it seem a lot nicer to be sociable and take the consequences?" "It does not!" exclaimed Cleo. "Because animals are made to be subject to man, not to be his equal. Here, Master Sammy Littletail, take yourself off. Shoo!" and Cleo tossed a harmless little pine cone after the scurrying bunny. "Oh, all right. If that's the way you feel about it I suppose we will have to shoo everything. But just the same, I left a nice square hole in the back of my outdoor buffet, for a bird sanctuary!" Louise confessed naively. "Someone's coming!" announced Grace. "Let me straighten my doormat." A young woman in camp uniform--the service suit of skirt and blouse--came up from the roadway. She was smiling broadly and sent that greeting on ahead to the Scouts. "Welcome!" she called out. "We have all been wondering why no Girl Scouts came up to our hills, and now our wonder is answered. Here you are!" "Yes," admitted Corene, trying to straighten out a very badly wrinkled blouse. "We are just a junior troop, we organized ourselves, you know," she finished frankly. "How could you do that?" questioned the young lady, seating herself on the biggest and flattest camp-stump. It was regarded as a regular seat, of course. "Oh, we are all Scouts at home, you know, and we understand all the--qualifications," Corene hesitated at this word, fearful of an accusing glance from someone who might call it a bit big for a junior to use. "But have you no leader? No director nor counsellor?" queried the stranger. "I have just come from a big camp," said the little Corene, a bit uncertainly. A rather critical look was swept over the Bobbie at that statement. "Yet you are too young to be a leader," pressed the tall girl. "I'm fifteen, but we hadn't quite finished all our plans yet," admitted the spokesman. "We have grown up sisters," tossed in Grace. "Do they understand Scouting?" These questions were not asked in any but the most friendly tone. "I am Marge Mackin of Norm Camp, over there, and I have been a Scout leader in the city. I called to say I would be glad to help you in any way----" "Oh, could you come over to our camp?" asked Julia, impulsively. "We have plenty of room." Miss Mackin rippled a girlish laugh. "That's lovely!" she exclaimed. "I'm sure I never thought of thrusting myself on you this way, but if I can really be of service----" "Indeed you can," declared Corene. "We have just gone ahead planning camp and expecting something would turn up to help us out of the director difficulty. Of course, our mothers would have sent an older sister, perhaps changing the force each week, but it is so much better to have a real camp leader. If you can come we have saved a counsellor's cot," she finished. "Have you, really? What wise little girls," Miss Mackin was glancing around with unhidden admiration. "Won't you come in and inspect?" invited Corene. "How splendid!" enthused the caller, passing in under the tent. "And how very practically ship-shape! You do show you are familiar with real camping. And where did you get such splendid equipment?" The camp's history was outlined and its prospects forecast, while Miss Mackin listened approvingly. "And you really want a resident manager?" she asked finally. "We do, indeed," declared the spokesman Corene, who, more than the others, realized the value of the unexpected offer. "Then suppose I accept, conditionally, of course, and we write our application to headquarters? All being Scouts we might better come under direct authority, don't you think so?" "Certainly," chorused the Bobbies. "But we won't have to change our name or anything, will we?" rather anxiously asked Grace. "Oh, no, even if there is another Bobolink troop your affix of 'junior' will, I think, make that all right. Also you may be called the Bobbies, that's a handy little name for an emergency summer troop. I think I'm just as crazy about all this as you are. I dearly love Scout camping, and try to get our young ladies to adhere to it. But you see, they are not little girls, and cannot always see the fun in good team work." Miss Mackin was unmistakably attractive and very girlish herself. She had the smile called "wide," and it lit up her whole face with rare flashes of dormant humor. The girls knew instantly she would be the very leader for them, and they felt like hugging the prospect. "Now, it's all settled!" proclaimed Julia. She had been fighting visions of black nights under that canvas tent with no Yale locks nor other safety contrivances or erstwhile doors, and here was some one actually able and willing to "take charge." "We are doing some research work up here," Miss Mackin explained, "and parts of my days must be given to that. You are so capable I would be in the way, really, if around all the time; but nights----" "Oh, we would need you every night," insisted Corene sincerely. "And in my own tent I am almost crowded out, so the plan seems inspirational," said Miss Mackin. She was surveying Louise's sideboard while Louise tried to get behind Grace. The compliment given, however, did not warrant hiding away from it. "We intend to move in to-morrow afternoon," said Corene, "if we can get everything moved up here by that time. Could you come to-morrow night?" "Easily. The girls will be delighted to have my cot for a visitor. I really don't have a whole cot, but I managed to get room to sleep in it," she smilingly admitted. "Yet, I hope I have not influenced you to take pity on me," she hurried to protest. "You are a real blessing," said Cleo. She was going to say "angel," but a look from Grace forbade that extreme. "We are going exploring this afternoon," announced Julia, as the visitor prepared to leave. "Oh, yes! Don't mind the danger-signs you find stuck around," said Miss Mackin. "We have seen many of them, but not yet scented any real danger. Good-bye for a while!" she finished. "I'll be here in time to take charge of the banner-raising." She hesitated in front of the new flagpole, her eyes alight with admiration for the girls' spirit of loyalty to their Scout principles. Then Miss Mackin hurried off toward Camp Norm. CHAPTER V A STOLEN LOOK AROUND It was dawn on Lake Hocomo, and the sun that disappeared behind the hills last night after spilling his colorful paint-pots into the surprised waters, tried to make amends now by softening the deadened mixture into a haze of amethyst mists. Gray, purple, rosy, and all so velvety, like the essence of color-life itself, the day dawned; welcomed by glad birds from every bush, tree or meadow spot for miles around. Were the Bobbies up now they might have learned something from their namesake. On a soft patch of velvet grass, jeweled with dew-blessed buttercups, and that tiniest of flowers, the pale blue forget-me-not, the bobolinks fluttered, their song as reckless as the riot of early day, as they paddled along on wingtips to the gay rhythm of rippling, reckless aria; for a happy little songster is the bobolink, shooting up and diving down into the wet grasses for his bath of sweetness, then swaying on the slenderest of stems, not unlike the little girl who stands perched on her springboard in the first joys of water-diving. It was because this rollicking bird sings as he flies that the vote of the Scouts resulted in his name being chosen, and on the dawn recorded the brown-gray streaked little songster left his meadow for a glimpse of that new camp in the woods. Soon he must go South for his rice feast, for early in summer the birds of his clan descend upon the rice fields and lo----! The bobolink perched himself on the top of that new flagpole, and perhaps his trilled notes were a co-mingling of praise and good wishes. But the Bobbies were sleeping in their mothers' cottages and dreaming of the first night in camp. Dick Porter, the night-watchman on the grounds around Tamarack Hills, rubbed his eyes and heaved the sigh of another task completed. Then he took a last look at Camp Comalong, for the Scouts had already stored in the tent goods of value, straightened his shoulders to suit the daytime needs, and sauntered off for his breakfast at the Nipanneck. Quickly as he turned away from the camp grounds a girl stole down from the highest hilltop. Peg, the mysterious, without hat and in simple skirt and blouse, frightened away the chipmunks and bunnies as she skipped, light as a fawn, over the path invisible to less familiar eyes, then she too stopped in front of that dignified flagpole. She looked up and down the length of it and brushed her hand quizzically over its smooth surface. "Humph!" she jerked. "Going to have everything first class, I guess." Cautiously she stepped up to the rustic "sideboard." This brought from her lips no caustic comment, but at once claimed her wrapt attention. She touched the burlap curtain and peeked under it. She gingerly fingered the rustic basket that held a bunch of wild flowers and hid the glass jar of water, she smiled real approval at the wood's fern in the rugged nail-keg that offset the center, and a little sigh escaped Peg as she turned to the tent. The new wood floor was fragrant as the pines, and as it was raised to make it safe from dampness the two "carpentered" steps with the doormat at top seemed very inviting indeed. The girl ventured under the canvas and stood as if spellbound. "Scouts!" she was thinking. "And I was the only Scout here till they came with all this." The cots were still covered with burlap, and the little foot rugs were rolled in a bundle with some of Cleo's precious cretonnes. Peg just touched all this with her brown fingers, and in a girl's way smiled at this or frowned at that, as the fancy struck her. A shrill whistle from the first lake steamer startled Peg as if she had been detected in her stolen inspection, and poking her head out of the tent to make sure the coast was clear, she jumped down the two white steps and made for the path, safe and unseen even by the girls from Camp Norm, who were just starting out for their nature hike. Peg quickly lost herself in the elderbrush lane that wound through the woods leading up to her own bungalow. A big shaggy collie ran out to meet her. She patted him fondly and he "wagged her" along to the door, where a woman stood waiting. She was related to the girl, that was obvious, for she had the same high toss to her head, and the same snapping black eyes, also the pure white hair showed the original color must have been black to have changed to white so early. "Peggie, dear, where have you been?" asked the woman. Her voice was low and well-modulated. "Just down to see the new camp," replied the girl. "Had your breakfast?" "No, I waited for you. I do hope, Peggie," there was a note of entreaty in her words, "that you are not doing anything--risky." "Ramrods and toothpicks!" exclaimed the girl. "Anything risky! Why, Carrie, I went down to see the new camp--the Girl Scouts, you know." "Oh yes. Those little girls who wear the uniform?" "Uh--ha: the girls who wear a perpetual smile and several dollars' worth of necktie," replied Peg, a bit sarcastically. "I am sure they look very neat and tidy, and I hope you are going to make friends with them," ventured Aunt Carrie, vindictively. "Now, please don't start pestering me with that sort of thing," protested the girl. "You know I don't want to make friends with any girls." "You are so foolish, dear, and I fear sometimes you are going to extremes with----" "Now, Carrie! Don't be cross, please. Just let me have my way for this one little summer and the time will be up. Then, if you want me to, I'll curl my hair if I have to sleep on the rolling-pin with the ends wound round it." She laughed gaily at this prospect. "Come in to breakfast. Shag has had his and we have such lovely berries. Come along, girlie," directed the aunt, and she wound an arm over the shoulder that pressed up to her affectionately. Shag, the big collie, took up his post at the door. The bungalow was unique in type, if bungalows are ever alike, and the pine trees that sheltered and brushed its roof with a sibilant swish, hummed now a pretty tuneless whisper. The place was hidden against a rocky ledge and not until one stood squarely in front of the unpainted log cabin was the building really visible, in its nest of trees and brush. Some few years before a man with his little daughter and his sister came up to the hills. He stayed at the Tippiturn House while he built this bungalow. Then he took his daughter Peggie and his sister Caroline to the house in the hills, where he lived apart from all the natives and cottagers. This was Horace Ramsdell, Peggie's father, but few people had cause to remember the name, for the owner lived aloof from others and made few friends even in the village. With all this he was a very pleasant man, fond of animals, kind to youngsters and generous in payment for any service. He died suddenly the year before the Scouts found their way into Tamarack Hills, where they crossed the path of Peg, the now fifteen-year-old daughter. She followed her father's footsteps in living alone, and in the matter of shunning companions, but she could not avoid making friends, as Pete the boatman had already assured the Girl Scouts. Her queer ways, defiance of dress codes, and above all her fondness for horseback riding, naturally stirred up criticism, but Peg was as oblivious of this as she was of the taunts so often flung at her by school girls, whose companionship she seemed to ignore. "Fly-away Peg," they called her, and the way she "flew to school" on her blue roan might easily have merited the caption. But to Morton School from Tamarack Hills was a long distance, mostly covered by woodlands, and when others came in autos or by wagon, why shouldn't Peg come on horseback? She should and she did, with a smile for the Fly-away Peg, and some fruit, winter and summer, for the old janitor who took care of her horse during the school session. There was something incongruous in her attitude. She was so lively and rollicking with anyone who would not follow up the familiarity, but just as soon as one would threaten to call at her bungalow, or would ask her to call at theirs, Peg seemed to take fright and would scurry off like some woodland thing jealous of its hiding place. No tradesman ever got past the door of her cabin; not even good old Doctor Rowan was brought inside when once he called to pay a professional visit on Aunt Carrie. On that occasion the lady, being ill, was very comfortably propped in the big steamer-chair on the porch, Peg declaring she felt better out in the air, and that she preferred sleeping out there when the weather was mild enough. So Peg of Tamarack Hills was a queer girl in many ways, and the mystery surrounding her home life always served to excite the curiosity of strangers, but had not, as yet, been explained. Perhaps a half-hour after she entered the bungalow for breakfast she appeared again in the familiar roughrider's outfit, adjusting the leather-fringed skirt over her breeches as she stood in the doorway. "I'll take Shag if that will make you feel any better, Aunt Carrie," said the girl, pulling her hat firmly on the cropped head. "Also, I'll ride slowly enough to talk to him, and I'll surely be back by noon. Now promise you are not going to worry." "I can't promise, my dear; but I'll try not to. You are growing up now, Peggie, and summer folks are so critical, you know." "Toothpicks for summer folks!" retorted the girl scornfully. "We don't owe them anything, Carrie, and if that's all you have got to worry about----" "I wish it were, dear," sighed the woman, but the girl was hurrying to the log-built barn where "Whirlwind," her blue roan, impatiently awaited her coming. Then she was off "like a piece of scenery," as Pete put it. But Peggie Ramsdell had no thought of the picturesque effect she created, nor did she care for less friendly criticism that followed in her dust-blown path. CHAPTER VI OPENING DAY "Everything is ready. Miss Mackin has sent our application to headquarters so that we may go on record, and now all we have to do is----" Louise interrupted Corene. "I've got to move all the dishes for my precious dining-room, and who can spare a car to lug them out?" "We'll pick you up and your tin pans on our way out this afternoon," replied Grace, quite breathless from the excitement. "And I've got to press out my uniform for the celebration." "Come along, I guess we have everything for this trip," said Corene, gathering up a few more "odds and ends." What wouldn't that camp contain? "Come along!" repeated Cleo. "I'm so glad we named it that, for I can just fancy we will make that our slogan. 'Come-a-long,'" she mimicked again, "and don't spill the eats, whatever you do." Out at the fork in the roadway they were met by the rest of the Bobbies, and the camp on this, the opening day, was to receive a full patrol of eight members. Miss Mackin had been made official director, Corene was leader, and the other members were Louise, Grace, Julia, Cleo, Margaret, and Madaline, the last two being visitors, but also regular Scouts in the home troop. Miss Mackin had already taken up her place in the camp and was now fully responsible, according to the best standards of the general organization; but in spite of that she allowed the girls to make the camp as they thought best, realizing that their plans were affording them a splendid chance to express individuality, and it was their proud boast that Camp Comalong was entirely theirs, from flagpole to the spring ditch, and from tent roof to the pine-needle pillows which Julia insisted should be used. And they were really moving in! A little gasp of anticipation sort of choked Cleo as she realized she was going to sleep with that oft-mentioned thin "rag of canvas twixt her and the stars." She wondered what they would do when it rained, and was glad the good, strong board floor was raised high enough to crawl under should a storm get too furious. Benny called this the cyclone-cellar, and it was stored with enough furniture which could not be utilized "just now" to give it a rather cyclonic appearance. The blankets on the eight nicely arranged cots had not been folded just as Corene had directed, so this detail was the first thing attended to now. "You see," she explained, "an awful lot depends upon the beds. They are our chief decoration, you might say," as she proceeded to make each bed very pretty indeed, with a diamond-shaped blanket in gay colors throwing its brilliancy clear up to the brown canvas ceiling. Bits of waste paper seemed to come from nowhere and settle everywhere, and these kept the Scouts busy, for this was to be a model camp and fit for inspection "always." "Now we'll all go home and take a bathtub bath," suggested Miss Mackin, "and be back promptly at two-thirty for the flag-raising." If anyone doubts girls' ability to make life ideal in the open, such a one has surely a limited experience with life's loveliest creatures, for girls are naturally "little animals," and who-ever tried to teach a bunny how to dig its burrow? At two o'clock Benny rounded up the Boy Scouts, and when these came together they formed quite a company, in which were five fifes, three were tin horns, several drums, a few being homemade and of recent production, besides mouth-organs and other varieties of noise-making instruments. Benny himself, being brother to Grace, was chosen color-bearer, and he started his company off for Tamarack Hills with many compliments following in the wake of the trusty, valiant Boy Scouts. Friends and relations of the girls had gathered also, and it was a distinguished line of autos that parked down at the foot of the hill when the girls themselves, hiking now and disdaining car-rides, marched along to take formal possession of Camp Comalong. The inspection came first and everyone took part in it Mothers were enthusiastic and even craved "camps like this" for the whole family. Those fathers who could do so also attended the opening, and manlike talked proudly of their girls being the real thing in the Scout line. The boys "drummed and fifed" madly, and of course drew a crowd. "After this one afternoon," said Corene to Cleo's mother, "we are going to be strictly Girl Scouts, and we will only have visitors on regular days." Miss Mackin was conducting one of the visiting school-teachers all over the grounds, for the fame of this girl-made camp had spread beyond its limits. Then the signal was given, and Grace pulled the rope that raised Old Glory over Tamarack Hills! That moment was reverently solemn. Every Girl and Boy Scout stood at attention, while the other spectators evinced their respect for the country's glorious emblem. Then the salute was given and the strains of "Star-Spangled Banner" stole out, first timidly, then assuringly, over the hills to the soft accompaniment of the lake's gentle swish against the rocky shore. The hours that followed were too well-filled with excitement and interest to bear commonplace reporting, but the capable director, Miss Mackin, or "Mackey," as she had already been affectionately dubbed by the Scouts, managed to get the grounds fairly well cleared of visitors in time for supper preparations to be begun before sunset, and presently the girls found themselves alone with their beloved scheme, "Camping in the Woods." "We will have a cold supper to-night," said Mackey, "and we have two quarts of lovely fresh milk--a donation from the Boy Scouts." "We might have treated them," said Grace. "They did so much for us, and their music was really splendid!" "Indeed it was," agreed the director, "and some afternoon we will give them all a treat. But to-night we have to try things out, so we will keep to schedule. I think everything went beautifully, and I want to congratulate you all. My friends from Camp Norm were very much impressed, and envied me my comfortable quarters," she added considerately. "They don't know the squad," laughed Corene, "and we had on our best behavior to-day. Wait, just wait until things get going." "We'll get the water," volunteered Cleo, taking the nice, shiny new pail from its peg in the tree closet. There was a row of these tree closets, being small wooden boxes nailed low enough to reach easily, and holding all the kitchen pans and pots. No one claimed these, and as Corene announced early in the plans, each should take turns, just like the K. P., or Kitchen Police, in military parlance. Up the hill to the spring now romped Cleo and Grace. It was joyous to begin, really, to start this first meal in camp. Fleet-footed were the happy Scouts on the initial errand, and if Grace stumbled and Cleo tripped it was small wonder, considering their excited state of mind. They were within a few feet, or bushes, of the spring when they saw a figure leaning over it. "Look!" whispered Cleo. "It's Peg!" "Come on and let's speak to her," suggested Grace sociably. "She might not like it," demurred Cleo. "Let's try, anyhow," insisted Grace, quickening her pace. The girl leaning over the spring must have heard the steps, for she jumped up quickly and snatched her hat from the big stone. "Hello!" called out Grace cheerily. "Did you come down to our camp exercises?" The brown felt hat was pulled down very suddenly and firmly on the black hair, and for an instant the face under it flashed defiance. The next, a frank smile brought the answer. "I did not exactly come to them, but I heard from the hill. It seemed--very nice." "Oh, it was. I'm sorry you didn't come," pressed Grace. "Let us introduce ourselves." She waved her pail nervously. "This is Cleo and I'm Grace of the Bobolinks. You may call us the Bobbies if you will." Peg smiled again and scratched her heavy shoes quite like an embarrassed youth might do. She hesitated quite a while before answering: "And I'm Peg--you may, if you will" (she pleasantly imitated the voice Grace had used), "just call me Peg," she finished rather shyly. It was such an agreeable surprise to find her approachable. Immediately both Scouts fell to talking of their camp prospects, and very naturally asked Peg to call. "We know you are the original Scout of these hills," Grace complimented, "and I hope you don't mind our trespassing." "Oh, no," replied Peg, but the voice was a little guarded. "The hills are big enough for us all," she added, "and I don't think you could have found a prettier spot. You can see clear across the lake from your front door," and she smiled at the classification. But she did not reply to the invitation. Both girls noticed the omission. Cleo dipped her pail in the spring pool and brought it out filled. She wanted to rinse the new tin, although Corene had boiled it before bringing it out to camp, but to rinse it would cool it, and now Cleo looked about for a spot to throw the waste water. "Toss it over this way," suggested Peg, who was moving away. "There's a water-cress bed here. Don't forget to try them when you want a salad," and before the Scouts could thank her she was racing over the next hill and waving good-bye. "So we met Peg!" said Cleo, her pail of water spilling over her new sneaks. "And she's a dear," announced Grace emphatically. Then they carried a newly dipped pail of fresh spring water back to camp, for their first supper under the tamarack trees. CHAPTER VII THE LOVING BANDIT When the girls went down to the lake with Mackey that evening, they were, somehow, a source of curiosity to those friends not members of the charmed circle of Scouts. To be away from home, living in a tent out in the woods, while even the Boy Scouts had to go back to their family cottage at night, seemed highly exciting. But the Bobbies were now a unit, and under the capable direction of Miss Mackin they started immediately to do things as they are done by units, and not by individuals. "We will go for a sail this evening," planned the director. "I see you have all passed in the swimming tests and therefore are permitted to go in canoes." "Oh, yes," Corene replied; "swimming is our chiefest joy, and canoeing on this lake, what we have had of it, is simply ideal." "I am sure folks will be curious about us for a while at least," continued Miss Mackin, "so I have asked Camp Norm to let us take the big canoe this evening, the one we teachers practice in, you know." "The big green Pedagogue!" exclaimed Cleo. "Oh, how splendid! I have just longed for a ride in the war canoe," and she hurried to do her part in clearing away the supper things. "Cleo," interfered Corene aside, so that Mackey would not overhear, "you know there is a real Scout way of doing dishes, and----" "All right, Corey; but let's do them any way to-night, so that they get done," replied the little girl in the big gingham apron. "I just want to get down to the lake and out on the water before the sunset fades. Daddy and all the folks will be there----" "Show-off!" taunted Madaline, the baby of the patrol. "Cleo thinks that canoe-riding is next best to horseback riding," and she made a juggler's pass to catch the plate that slipped through her dish-towel. A half-hour later the Bobolink girls were down at the dock, the center of an admiring party which included some Camp Fire Girls, some girls from the Hikers Club, besides the usual scattering of summer girls, all piling on compliments for the day's achievement in the opening of Camp Comalong. Miss Mackin wore her regular uniform, which she had with her, fortunately, and all together the patrol made a very creditable showing, as they took their places in the war canoe. After some instructions from Miss Mackin, who, among other things, insisted upon "good form rather than speed," they pulled out gracefully, the "Down Paddle" start having been executed by the eight doubles as precisely as if done by a simple stroke. And wonder of wonders! There was a moving-picture man on shore, grinding his machine as if each grind depended on speed and not upon form, for only in a sudden burst of strong sunset light did the camera operator hope to get a picture of the Girl Scouts on Lake Hocomo. "In the movies!" breathed Julia, dipping her paddle with such awe as might have been occasioned had some perfume stream sprung up through the many springs beneath the water's surface. It was sweet, indeed, to be pictured thus, and not a Bobbie among them but felt a little tinge of pride when the boys shouted after them: "You'll be in the movies, girls!" "Queer how much more important we are to-day than we were yesterday," remarked Cleo analytically. "Because yesterday we were girls, while to-day we are Scouts," explained Mackey. "That's the value of team play, you know. Now we will paddle in to the Point, and see that we make a perfect landing. That's one thing we have to learn in good canoeing." Dip after dip took them gracefully down the lake to where the Point landing jutted out among all sorts of craft, the motor-boating being easily as common at the lakeside as is the "motor-caring" at any inland parkside. "I hope we don't jam them," whispered Grace to Cleo, who was her canoe partner. "If we have to jam anyone, I hope it's that 'streak'--you know, Grace, that queer bug-boat those girls from the hotel always ride in." "Why?" asked Grace, leaning closer. "Because they're snippy and call us 'candy kids,'" replied Cleo. "It seems to me they look more like candy themselves, with their taffy hair and peppermint-striped bathing-suits." Grace silently agreed, and soon all the paddlers bent their interest and energy on making a perfect landing. At the director's signal they stopped paddling some little distance out, then steered past the flock of motor boats into the side of the dock, where as pretty a landing was made as the big Pedagogue ever had to her credit. Miss Mackin and Corene sprang ashore first, and held the boat while the others quickly and alertly followed. Again they were the center of an admiring throng, and again the Bobbies felt suffused with a pardonable pride. They were really the first group of Girl Scouts to be seen about the lake, and it was not surprising that they should attract some attention. Some provisions for the next day were purchased, as the Point was the center of supplies for the colonists, then, after a half hour spent in recreation about the pier, the party embarked again and paddled back toward the camp landing. The evening "had ripened" as Louise expressed it, and a calm mellowness seemed to settle over everything about the water and its shores. "Let us try a song," suggested Miss Mackin. "Who can lead?" "Weasy!" came the chorus; and presently the newest version of popular songs, adjusted to the Girl Scout needs, with clever words that just fitted the tunes, were "tried" and rather successfully executed. The clear, true voice of Weasy carried along the more uncertain tones of Grace and Cleo, like chips of sound on the crest of a song wave, and once started the "sing" went merrily on until the home dock was finally reached. A sigh of satisfaction ended the chorus. The Pedagogue was docked and stored for the night, although the interested Benny and his clan crawled under the big canoe "just for sport," the Bobbies said good-night and turned back to the hills for their first night under the stars. It was almost dark as they hurried along under the trees, and it was not by accident that each little girl clutched the arm of her companion. They needed the nearness on this first night, at any rate, and Cleo more than once cast a surreptitious glance back over the lake to Chipmunk cottage, where she knew, at that very moment, Daddy was looking campward and thinking of his little girl who had flown from the home nest for the first time. But she trudged along eager for the big experience, even if conscious of its sentimental cost. "One lantern will answer for us, I think," said the director. "Shall we have a campfire and story to-night?" "Oh, yes, surely!" replied Corene, who managed to frame first the same answer the others attempted. The two big logs, between which the fire was to be built, were already in place, and it was now time for Julia to shine in her especial department. She undertook to build the stone oven for the cooking purposes, so she also included the responsibility of making place and arrangements for the campfire. Following the camp manual "no paper nor excelsior nor other artificial means" were to be employed in the fire making, but instead the "punk" wood, gouged from the heart of a dry log, was placed in the "V" of the two big green logs; then the tiny twigs and light material were first piled up so that the "light with one match only" was successfully accomplished, and a merry blaze burst out to greet Julia and cheer her companions, almost before the others realized the fire was really started. Every member of the little patrol stood looking on--spellbound. What is more inspiring than a campfire in the clearance, with the tent "hard by" and the sheltering trees overlooking? "Oh, if only we could get the girl Peg, you know, to come down and join us," sighed Grace. "Let's try," suggested Cleo. "She seemed friendly and it won't do any harm to try. I'll go over the hill with you?" "If Mackey will let us," followed Grace. The other girls were finding seats on the big logs arranged at a safe distance from the fire, and when the director heard the request of Grace and Cleo, she agreed they might go over the hill to the cabin, if they kept to the path in front of the other camps and came directly back. It was not yet dark and the two Bobbies started off on a merry chase, as usual. Near the cabin they met Shag, the big collie, and he made friends promptly, perhaps because they wore the same sort of brownish outfit his own mistress was usually dressed in. "Shall we go right up and knock?" deliberated Cleo. Now that they faced the cabin they faced also its restrictions. "No," reflected Grace. "We had better call." Suiting the words to action she cupped her hands and "Whoo-hooed" once or twice; then waited. No answer. "Call, use her name," suggested Cleo, leaving the duty to Grace. "Peg! Peg-gee!" called Grace. "Hey--oh! Peg!" she trilled in a curly sort of call. Shag seemed restless now and his manner was less confident. He didn't wag so enthusiastically, but instead sniffed with suspicion. Finally the cabin door opened and Peg appeared. She hurried down and met the girls where they waited. "We came to bring you over to our first campfire," Grace almost spluttered. She was excited and in a hurry to return to camp before the night should overtake them. "Oh, I really couldn't go!" protested Peg, but her voice was toned with a hint of regret. "You've just got to," said Cleo. "We are bandits and we're going to kidnap you!" and quite as if the play had not been all planned, each Scout slipped her arm into the arms of Peg and urged her forward. A ripple of girlish laughter answered the challenge, but Shag didn't like it and he growled threateningly. The girls stepped back for a moment, fearing the dog might attempt to interfere, when another figure appeared in the doorway. It was Aunt Carrie, and she very quickly and decidedly ordered Shag to "come here, sir," which he did, by that time realizing his very natural mistake. "Really, girls," said Peg. "I do thank you for being so friendly, but I can't go." "And this our first night on the grounds and you the original Scout!" sulked Cleo. "At any rate it is getting so dark I don't see how we will dare go back alone." "You _are_ a bandit," laughed the stranger, "and I suppose----" "That you must come," Grace finished happily. "Hurry, do please! The fire is going high, just see it! And we may miss the story." "You stay here then," ordered Peg rather shyly, "while I get my cape from Aunt Carrie. Shag will be sure to call for me later." Grace and Cleo danced a few steps while waiting, but in a very few moments Peg was back with her cape over her arm. "I can't tell you how surprised I am," she admitted. "I so very seldom go calling." "But you are a Scout and you wouldn't be unfriendly," almost charged Cleo. "Maybe that's it," returned Peg; and arm in arm the trio stumbled back to the campfire, for it was quite impossible to walk without stumbling when retarded by darkness from taking the jumps and jerks necessary to the ordeal. When they reached Camp Comalong Mackey was just starting her story. CHAPTER VIII GLOW OF THE CAMPFIRE'S GLEAM "And so the mystery of the 'Pocket In Black Rock' was finally cleared up," ended the story teller, as the big smoldering log fell into the blaze and sent up a "fire-works" of spluttering embers. The Bobbies hugged the line of waists that sat squat in front of the campfire. Peg had been accorded a seat of honor directly in front of the biggest blaze, and it was not possible to escape her sighs and gasps of rapt attention, as the thrills of the story were unwound, and she jumped up now and smiled so frankly into the face of the director that no shadow of doubt remained as to this strange girl's sincerity. "I have never had such a lovely time!" she declared with something of the social habit, "and I'm ever--so thankful to you and the girls." The Bobbies were all delighted. Somehow this little woods-girl was so picturesque and fitted in the scene so perfectly now, when the blaze lit up her entire form, as she stood outlined against the night--it was hard to imagine she was in any way queer! But the next moment she had flung her cape over her shoulders, thrust her fingers into her mouth to make shriller the whistle she emitted, and when Shag leaped "into the ring" she said good-night, repeated it to each section of the group, and then was off with her dog, before the others could offer "to go with her over the hill" or even to ask her to come again. Her abrupt departure left a sort of "hole in the group." While she was there the others felt a fascination, that usually accorded to mystery, and perhaps she as much as Miss Mackin's thrilling story had furnished the evening's interest. But during all the time she exchanged no word even of comment, and some of the girls suspected that the "kidnapping" perpetrated by Grace and Cleo had been more real than imagined. "What joy!" enthused Margaret, looking up to see if she could find the stars blinking after having her eyes glare-shot by the fire. "To think we are going to sleep out here in the woods!" "And we must make our inspection now," announced the careful director. "Corene, you are leader; get the lantern, please." Willingly the Scout mentioned sprang to obey, when the "plink-plink-plink" of Ukes, and a soft hum of voices stole down to their grounds. "A serenade!" exclaimed Louise. "Oh, goody! We will have more campfire!" Presently the music filled the clearance, and, as suspected, the serenaders were upon the scene. "The girls from Norm!" cried Julia. "Isn't this just too lovely!" Then sang the singers: "There are girls that make us happy, There are girls who make us sad, There are girls who never can stop gig'ling And they're girls who make you awful mad! But the girls we serenade this evening With this ukeleled sing-a-song, Are the Bobbies with our stolen Mackey, In the lovely new Camp Comalong!' The tune was borrowed from "Smiles" and the words, though a little rough on the edges, fitted in pretty well. And this was the beginning of the campfire concert. Two ukes and two mandolins, besides a real melodious banjo, composed the orchestra, and the Norms sang everything campy and collegiate, until Mackey declared she would simply have to put her Bobbies to bed. Regret as real and keen as that usually expressed in a nursery at the same order, answered the summons, but the director was inexorable, and the Norms finally left in a path of complimentary protestations. The inspection finished (nothing was found out of order on this, the very first night), the little campers presently found themselves in their "bunks." Such tittering, giggling and whispering! Someone's bed "sagged like a hammock" while another someone's "humped like a hill." "I'm going to try to grow tall," whispered Louise to Julia, her nearest neighbor. "Do you suppose the pines and tamaracks can stretch one out?" and she thrust her feet beyond the blanket confines. Julia didn't care if she shrank, and she whispered that secret; and so it went around from cot to cot until Miss Mackin called a final warning. Then things settled down at last, and only the trusty lantern that hung behind a screen in a sheltered spot outside the door, stood sentinel over the sleepers. And they slept. Little gasps and sighs told of girlish dreams, and if Louise kicked her feet down too decidedly perhaps she was trying to grow; also when Julia humped up her knees and spoiled the entire effect of her pretty blanket, perhaps she was trying to shrink. Then the inevitable happened. As it couldn't be avoided it has to be told, in spite of the usual first night scare banality. Cleo had just said something unintelligible and Corene answered with an alto groan, when there was a scream! It came from the end cot where Margaret slept. Every one sat up as if a spring had been touched. "Oh, mercy, look!" yelled a chorus. They looked, and between the curtain blazed two immense eyes! Also there was a snorting sound! "A bear!" cried Madaline. "See how tall he is!" "Yes, look!" exclaimed Cleo, "his head is in--the trees!" Miss Mackin's flashlight had slipped from her hand, and it was while she fumbled in the dark for it that this dialogue was snapped off. "Just wait a minute, and don't get excited," she begged so inadequately that Corene repeated: "Excited!" Her light recovered, she quickly turned the flash on the thing that was somehow fixed in the joining of the rear flaps of the tent. "Oh, h-h-h!" screamed the chorus again. "Nothing--but--a----" Miss Mackin stopped. She was not sure just what it was, for an immense animal head was framed in the curtains it had poked itself between. There was a continued volley of subdued shrieks from everyone until Cleo took aim with her shoe. She proved a first rate shot, for the animal blinked once and promptly withdrew. "A cow! I heard him chew!" declared the little fat Madaline. "But he has no horns," argued Julia, trembling still, and trying to talk with a head covered in the blankets. "It is a cow," declared Miss Mackin. She was on her feet now, and had the tent flaps open. She had taken down the pole light from the front door, and now swung the lantern through the curtains in the rear. "See, there she goes! Poor Bossy just wanted to pay us a call. I didn't know we had any cows around here." "All right there?" called a man's voice, next. "The officer!" declared Cleo not without a little squeak of joy. "That's Dick Porter's voice." "Yes, that's the watchman," agreed Miss Mackin, who had slipped on her heavy robe. "All right, officer!" she called back. "But please drive the cow away." "Certainly," came the reply through the night's silence. "That cow has a habit of walking in her sleep," and he laughed so good-naturedly that the Bobbies took the cue and laughed heartily themselves. The director feared she would not get them quiet again in time to have even a reasonable amount of sleep, for what one didn't think of the other suggested, until night was turned into a medley of utter nonsense, set off by such laughter as can only be enjoyed when she who laughs knows it's against the rules to do so. "Now, girls, no campfire to-morrow night if you do not stop within five minutes," threatened Miss Mackin in desperation. "All right, Mackey dear," replied Cleo. "I'll throw my other shoe at the first one that laughs." Then she yelled again. It was such a sudden outburst no one could question the humor that provoked it. "Oh, Mackey dear," she gulped between her spasms. "Do you think Bossie swallowed my new shoe?" "We'll chip in and buy you a new pair if you only will go to sleep, Bobbie dear," begged the distracted director, and this time her appeal bore results. But over the bend on Tamarack Hill another girl slept fitfully. Peg had broken her resolution to remain alone, and for that one beautiful evening she had been just like the others--a girl among girls! And how overjoyed Aunt Carrie was! To have Peg run off and spend a happy evening with the Girl Scouts. Upon her return to the cabin no little queen could have received more loving attention. "Now at last, Peggie dear, you have found friends," the white-haired woman had declared. But Peg shook her bobbed head and refused to promise that she would keep up the friendship so auspiciously begun. "You know, Carrie dear, I must not bring folks here yet," Peg had protested, "and I shall never accept things nor friendship that I cannot fully return." So now Peg slept, dreaming of that magic campfire: hearing the story again of the pocket in the big black rock: now she felt Grace grasp her hands in delight and ecstasy with a little squeal of joy, and after it all she was alone again, with Shag sleeping at her door, with Aunt Carrie's faithful night lamp making a little shaded starlight beneath the beam ceiling. And she had cried a little and laughed a little, but at last it was all over, and now she would take Whirlwind out over the hills in the early morning and forget, if she could, the Bobbies and their magic campfire. CHAPTER IX A DAY WITH THE BOBBIES A shrill whistle shocked the girls back to consciousness. "What's that?" asked Cleo. "Our 'get-up' call," replied Corene. "Mackey's whistle. At the big camp we always heard the bugles next." Whether woodnymphs were listening in that tent, or whether Corene's remark provoked an uncanny echo, at that very moment a bugle blast sounded somewhere! "Another serenade!" exclaimed Julia, settling into her new comfort, quite as if the bugle-blow were permission to defer rising time. Miss Mackey was already dressed for the ten minute exercise drill. "The girls at Norm have no bugles, so we cannot be indebted to them this time," she said. "Maybe it's friend cow bringing back my shoe," chuckled Cleo. Came the uncertain notes of the bugle again: "We can't get 'em up--up--up!" it stuttered frantically, unable to return to the first notes to repeat the strain. The girls shuffled into slippers and bathrobes, the regular drill costumes, and Grace ventured to poke her head outside the tent. "The boys!" she exclaimed. "There they go scamping off. Just gave us our first call, to tease, of course. Well, I'm glad something got Benny up. I wouldn't wonder if the bugler blew him out first." "They're gone," repeated Miss Mackin good-naturedly, "and I suppose they think it was a great joke. Grace, couldn't we borrow that bugle?" "I'll see; I think Clee could blow it; she does so well with a bicycle pump." Presently the Bobbies were outside; having reverently raised their colors, they raced off to the "drill field," a little place cleared of brush and safe from the eyes even of Benny's bugle squad. There, in bathing suits, they went through the setting up exercises, warranted to do everything in the way of providing health and beauty for Girl Scouts. From that they raced off to the little cove in the lake, took a dip, which they would loved to have prolonged into a swim had Mackey not blown that police whistle; then back to camp, then washed and dressed and jumped out to their benches set around the new boarded table. Washing between the trees, where twin cedars or other saplings were used to hold the basin bench, proved novel to those little girls, used to the white enamelled bathrooms at home; but it was fun, even if Julia did spill "every drop of the pitcher full of fresh water" and have to borrow from Margaret; and although Grace found her soap so slippery, it would roll off into the pine needles and when rescued look like a new sort of fuzzy-wuzzy chestnut. Altogether it was fun and frolic, and "good for what ails you," as Cleo commented, when Madaline took to preaching about the wrongs of civilization. "It's all nonsense and mummy says so, for us to want hot and cold water all the time," she declaimed from her perch on a stump where the towel was clear of the ground. "And this is good for us. Will make----" "Men of us," finished Cleo, who always loved to tease chubby, baby Madaline. Corene had charge of breakfast, Julia was fireman, this picturesque duty appealing to her imaginative nature, and as she poked the embers in the stone furnace (of her own building) and sang, "Boil and bubble, toil and trouble," she must have imagined the witches in Macbeth were stirring things up with their forked wands. "Hungry! I'm starved!" declared Margaret. "Can't seem to remember when I ate last. Please send me down that dish of apples." "Let us adhere to something of our regular table manners, girls," said Miss Mackin from her place at the head of the board. "We don't want the home folk to be blaming us for lost manners, when we go back. I know it does seem like fun to be free from most restrictions, but habits are so easily formed, and we can't blame the home people for wanting us to go back to them better in every way." Miss Mackin never dictated, she just "put things up to the girls" in a very pleasant manner. Corene was serving the cereal while Julia kept things hot over the picturesque stone furnace. "If you have enough cooked now we will all eat together, Corey," said the director. "Just bring your coffee pot over here. I'll pour!" She smiled broadly at that use of the social term. "Let me cook the bacon," begged Cleo. "I've heard daddy talk so often of camp bacon." Her request was granted, and presently the bacon was sizzling from its wire string that ran from one end to the other of the furnace, each end being hooked on the iron poles, little gas pipes set up in the stones, with homemade hooks of tightly wound wire, the entire contrivance representing Julia's idea of a camp "skillet" or "dangling spider." The bacon broiled very quickly, for the embers had reached a point of concentrated heat, and when Cleo forked her bacon off the wire its aroma might easily have attracted envious comments from the girls at Camp Norm. "Did anything ever taste so good?" exclaimed Margaret. "Shall we have baked potatoes for lunch?" asked Madaline, sending her cup down to Louise to have it refilled with milk. "I'm to cook lunch," replied Cleo, "and you may help, Madie. I know you always did love to bake things. Remember the day you burned the big angel cake?" Madie remembered, but claimed a broader knowledge of the culinary art now. The day's programme provided something for every hour, and after breakfast it was to be a swim. The weather was ideal for this, their first experience in the "wide open," so that a swim was eagerly anticipated now. "Fix your bunks; inspection first, you know," ordered the leader. How jolly it was! And how worth while to do things this way, which was the right way for this particular occasion? The beds and their surroundings passed the director's inspection, and then came the swim. "We are all good swimmers," Julia insisted. "I don't really think we need have Mackey with us, if she should want to do something else." "Oh, I go with you," replied Mackey. "The water is a matter of particular responsibility, and being good swimmers would not excuse me in case of accident." "Mother always feels that way and insists on being along with us," added Louise reflectively. The dock was crowded when they reached the "bathing grounds." They might have "gone in" at their own beach in the cove, but the rocks around that corner were jagged, and Mackey decided it would be better to take the dives from the regular springboard off the landing. "I wish we would see Peg," Grace said to Cleo. "I wonder where she goes in?" "Never saw her in a bathing suit," replied Cleo, "but I'm sure she's a regular fish in the water. We'll ask her to come with us next time we see her." "Do you suppose she works at anything?" Grace asked again. "Why! How queer that you should think she works?" charged Cleo. "Well, she does something. She wouldn't ride away so early every morning just for pleasure; and Benny says he has seen her so often." A call to line up for a running dive interrupted the conversation, and presently the Bobbies quite forgot Peg, in their joy of a real swim in Lake Hocomo. "Lots better than the ocean," chugged Louise, just coming in from a long pull. "I never could try this stroke in the big waves," and she dove back again to try the "crawl" in the smooth yet pleasantly warmed waters; for the lake was never very cold at the big open basin that surrounded this point. "And no tide to worry about," added Margaret. However dear was the ocean when at the ocean they tarried, the Scouts had a happy faculty of shifting their affection, and now it was the "wonderful lake!" Miss Mackin was watching the swimmers and she quickly observed those most proficient. "Madaline, don't go outside the float," she cautioned. "That's a pretty good swim for a little girl, I think." The smallest Bobbie turned to obey when those nearest her saw her give a sudden jerk and then she screamed! "Oh, something has got me! Quick!" Miss Mackin only had to put her hand out to reach the frightened child, but Madaline's face showed pain and the director could not at once seem to assist her. "My foot! Something's got my foot!" she cried. "A crab!" exclaimed Grace, swimming quickly to Madaline's aid. "Not in the lake!" protested Cleo. By this time Miss Mackin had succeeded in freeing the very much frightened little Scout, and she was now leading her ashore. Madaline had drawn her foot between two rocks that came together so closely they formed a very formidable trap, and the only way a victim could get out was to back out of the wider end of the opening. There were rocks only on the lake bottom near shore, and most bathers soon became familiar with their location. As if that trifling incident opened the way for further "frowns of Fate" the girls in the water presently had reason to scamper. The criticized blondes, they who ran the "Bug," that deformed motor boat, now deliberately turned the craft into the line of the swimmers. At first it seemed accidental, but when Grace and Julia turned in another direction and the "Bug" cut after them, they realized that the girls in the hideous striped bathing suits were giving them a chase. Miss Mackin saw this from ashore and ran along the dock to the end of the pier. She called from there, and the girls in the queer squat boat seemed to take heed, for presently the boat made a complete circle and shot out again into the open lake. "Come in, girls," called the director. "Time's up!" "Oh, not one more swim?" begged Grace. But Corene said "no," and everyone realized Corene's experience with a director qualified her to dictate, so reluctantly they waded in and were soon back in camp, dressing for dinner. "What do you think of those girls racing after us with their old motor boat?" Louise asked. They were looking rosy and feeling "frisky" after their swim, and the preparations for dinner (they had decided to have the main meal at noon), were aggravating in their appetizing lure. "I think," replied Julia, "we will have to look out for those ladies," she wanted to say something more "descriptive," but let it go at "ladies." "Why look out for them?" pressed Grace. She may have scented danger and "warmed to it," for Grace had the reputation of daring and courage. "Well, they didn't seem to be 'cutting up' exactly, and they did steer their old bug-boat straight after us," reasoned Julia. "Wonder where they stop?" "I saw them on the grounds of the Fayette the other day," said Madaline, "and one was in a hammock, with her feet sticking out and you could see her green silk stockings all the way from the corner." "Must have terrible long----" The dinner gong interrupted Grace's sentence, for Corene was hammering her bread knife on the big tin tray with such startling results, that the very birds took fright and left the grounds before gathering the crumbs that might come to them from the table of the Bobbies. CHAPTER X MEET BUZZ AND FUSS "Company!" called Madaline. "Someone is coming down our path." "But we don't own the woods," replied Grace. "They are surely coming here," insisted Cleo. "And Bobbs! Listen!" exclaimed Louise. "It's the girls who wear long-legged green silk stockings! Just look!" The intruders were almost upon them and the order Louise gave seemed entirely uncalled for. Everyone looked! In fact they stared at the two conspicuous blondes, who were recognized as the drivers of the bug-boat, and who seemed rudeness itself to the Scouts. "Quick! Drop the tent flap, don't let them snoop!" whispered Cleo to Madaline who was nearest the pull rope. Madaline picked herself up from her camp stool and with a great show of indifference sauntered into the tent and dropped the curtain as she went. The other girls exchanged glances of satisfaction. "Good afternoon," chirped one of the callers. "May we come in?" "Certainly," replied Corene. She had risen but did not offer her seat to the strangers. "What a perfectly dear nook!" exclaimed the shorter girl. Her remark almost gave Louise a spasm of some kind, for she choked, and coughed, and finally ran off to get a drink. "And do you stay here all the time?" asked the girl with the long black earrings. "We're camping," replied Corene. At the moment everyone wished Mackey had not gone hunting new wild flowers. "How perfectly lovely!" gasped Number One. This threatened a spasm to Julia, but she kept her eyes on the sweater she started the year before, and thus offset serious consequences. "We are at the Fayette," volunteered Number Two, "and we perfectly hate it." She dropped down on the grass and propped her useless parasol over her head in an obvious pose. The other followed suit. "I wish we might camp for a while, don't you, Buzz?" The name brought Madaline out from the tent with a laugh in her eyes, but she closed the "door" after her, and carefully arranged the curtains. "Buzz!" she whispered to Cleo. "Could you possibly take us in?" asked the other caller. This surprising question almost precipitated something worse than a choking spell all around. After the way those bold girls ran the Scouts out of the lake with their old yellow boat! "We don't take boarders," replied Corene cruelly, grinding out the word "boarders" with vicious satisfaction. "Oh, we know that. But Fuss meant could we come as Girl Scouts?" "Girl Scouts!" repeated Cleo, incredulously. "Why, yes, I think those togs are perfectly stunning and shouldn't mind at all wearing them," condescended Fuss. "Can you get those uniforms around here?" A look akin to disgust crossed the face of Corene. How she longed to "speak the truth for once," but politeness forbade the experiment. "You can't wear the uniform unless you are a Scout, and you can't be a Scout unless you qualify," she snapped. "And what do you do to qualify?" "Fuss and Buzz" had both seated themselves without invitation, and now their line of questions indicated rather a stay. Corene sank back and sighed. She picked up her book and toyed with it significantly. But no one replied. There was danger of a general laugh breaking out if someone didn't say something quickly, so Louise, just coming back from the water pail, offered an excuse. "All right Louie?" asked Grace. She had never called Louise Louie before. "Oh, yes, I just choked," replied Louise, "and went for a drink." "A drink!" repeated the Buzzer. "Oh, could we have a lovely, cool drink? We are so warm from walking." What could the Bobbies do? "Certainly," said Julia. "I'll fetch it." "I'll help you," offered Cleo, glad to escape for a moment. A brand new tin pie pan with two glasses of spring water was fetched. There was no doily, either paper or otherwise, although the usual tray was so covered. The strangers drank heartily, however, and it seemed now they surely must go. But they didn't. "And you couldn't take us for just a teeny-weeny while?" cooed Fuss. "Oh, if you only could, we would be so good! We would do all the work--do you have to do all the work?" came another silly question. "We don't _have_ to but we _choose_ to," snapped Corene again. Her companions seemed to have no pity, for rarely did one of them offer to help her out. Why didn't Mackey come and rescue them? Each was wondering. "Do you know that queer girl on the hilltop?" asked Fussy, unexpectedly. "Who do you mean?" Grace challenged. "'Fly-away Peg,' they call her. She's so queer, and so--so sort of heathenish," said Buzzy. "We are acquainted with Peggie Ramsdell," replied Grace, glad that she remembered the name, "but we don't consider her queer." "You don't, really! Then you don't know her. She is very queer, and if I were you--so young and trusting--I'd keep away from her," offered the second intruder. "Why should we do that?" Corene shot the question defiantly. "Well," a titter, "she won't get you any place, that's all," went on the informer. "No one will take you up if you tag around with her." "We don't want to be taken up," flung back Corene. "And I'm afraid you will have to excuse us. It is almost time for class." "Class! And do you go to school here, too?" No one answered, but all had risen. They would take Corene's cue and go in the tent; if only those rude girls would take themselves off. "Oh, could we have just one peek in your tent? We are dying to!" came the daring question which was put by both, one tagging the end on the other's introduction. This brought out Corene's "fighting fury," as the girls were accustomed to characterize her aggressiveness, and now she faced the strangers squarely. "Aren't you the two young ladies who tried to run us out of the lake this morning?" she demanded. Her face took on a tone of red she tried hard to keep down. "Oh, did you mind?" simpered one. "Why, we were only fooling. You were having such a lovely time we thought it would be fun to--to chase you." "You did it to show off and it wasn't funny a bit," declared Corene, her companions applauding with glances. "We don't feel like being friendly but we have tried to be polite," pursued Corene, "but now I guess we had better----" "Close the interview," mocked Buzz. "Of course we'll go. We never intended to stay. We were only trying to have some fun with you," and her voice fairly hissed her rudeness. "Such babes in the woods! And no mammas! Better call nursie to shoo horrid, big things away. Come along, Toots. They don't want and evidently won't take any advice. But if they tag after Fly-away Peg maybe they'll be sorry they didn't listen." Then they went, their glaring satin skirts--one was gold and the other mahogany--showing through the heavy brush as they wound in and out the path, their twin-made sweaters of bright pink being last to fade from view, over the little rustic bridge that spanned the creek. The Scouts stood, too surprised to give expression to their feelings. "Of all the cheek----" began Grace. "Why didn't you hit them, Corey? I saw you stoop for a stick," said Cleo. "I felt like doing something desperate," replied Corene. "I never in all my life saw such nerve." "Do you think they were really fooling about wanting to come to camp?" queried Julia. "They would be glad enough to come indeed if they saw any chance," declared Margaret, promptly. "Can you imagine Buzz and Fuss in our uniforms?" Grace went into perfect kinks at the idea. "They would love them," drawled Julia, imitating the tone of voice used by the strangers. "And wouldn't they look cute in the kilties?" mocked Madaline. "With the green silk stockings and all!" howled Cleo. Only the approach of Miss Mackin saved the Bobbies from wilder expression of joy--joy that the callers had gone, and joy for the trail of humor they left behind. Her arms filled with iron weed and late daisies, Mackey looked very pretty as she came along through the soft green setting, so different from the last figures that travelled the same path. The girls ran to meet her and eagerly told the exciting story. "You see, I shouldn't leave you very long," commented the director when the account was finished. "You are so attractive, even the frivolous stop to admire. And I have a lovely surprise for you." They took the flowers from her and "sat her down," as if she were not really a girl but a queen among them. "What's the surprise?" cooed Madaline. "The Norms are going to start a class in basketry; who wants to join?" "Oh, baskets, the Indian kind, and the pretty raffia kind, and the----" "Lunch basket kind," Julia interrupted Grace. "We will join you, Mackey, won't we, girls?" Everyone agreed eagerly, and the first session was arranged to be held at Camp Comalong on the following afternoon. "I thought after a few days things might get sort of samey," said Cleo, "but as it looks now I wonder how we are going to get everything in? We must go riding soon, Louise." "We surely must, Clee. Let us keep the next afternoon after to-morrow free for that. I am just longing for a ride through those wonderful, green woods." "Maybe we will meet Buzzie and Fussie, and if we do----" threatened Cleo. "We'll make them run harder than they did us, with their old buggy-boat in the lake," finished Louise, well out of hearing of the director. But a new cause for questions had crossed their wonderful path. Why did those girls speak with such marked disapproval of Peg, the exclusive neighbor? CHAPTER XI THE FOOD SHOWER As someone had said events were crowding at camp, and it now seemed difficult to keep schedule and not break the "rest rule." This last obligated the director to see that the girls rested for a time after the noon-day meal. As the Bobbies were such active little animals, and so eager to crowd each moment with an event--big enough to occupy an hour--Mackey had to be very decided in this order for an hour's rest every afternoon. It was that particular period that the unwelcome callers had so completely dissipated the day before, so to-day Mackey decided to stay at camp and write up her notes, rather than scour woods for new material. Thus she could keep tabs on that relaxation period. "We're so glad to have you, but hope we are not spoiling all your real vacation," said Louise considerately, when the patrol finished dinner, had cleaned up things and were now out under the trees resting. "Honestly, Mackey, tell us! Didn't you plan to come and be our guardian angel, or did you just happen along that day?" The director laughed merrily. It seemed to her girls that she could laugh more heartily than any sort of teacher they had ever come in contact with. Her big brown eyes would roll so comically, and she had a way of tossing her head up in such a frank fit of mirth, that her manner was really an inspiration to those about her. "Don't guardies always come that way?" she replied to Louise's question. "And do you want to 'sack' me for someone else? I'm sure anyone at Camp Norm would be glad to try for the place." Conservative Louise could not stand that, and she almost upset Mackey and her camp stool in objecting. "Did the mothers have anything to do with it?" pressed Grace. "Or headquarters?" went on Julia. "Well," evaded Mackey. "I came, I saw and I conquered. So why worry?" and the Bobbies were obliged to be satisfied with that reply. "Has anyone seen Peg, lately?" was the next question. It came from Cleo. "'Has anybody here seen Kelly,'" chirped Grace, falling into the funny old tune. "'Kelly with the gre--heen necktie!'" she persisted, in spite of a shower of leaves and twigs that struck at her defiant head. "We can't call this rest," remonstrated Mackey. "Julia, I wouldn't pull up those little roots, you will have mud puddles there if it should rain to-night." "Oh, that's so!" exclaimed Julia. "How will we arrange when the rain comes? What about my fire?" "We will have to use up some of the dry boxes," suggested Madaline. "Or get an oil stove," proposed Margaret. "Or we could make a shack--build one over our camp kettle," added Cleo. Mackey waited to try out their resources before interfering. Then she said: "It's lots of fun to build fires in the rain; that is if you don't have to dry out too quickly after a long hike. We can always find dry wood inside of the old logs, and by scooping out some shavings we can easily start some of your nice, little cord pieces, that you have stocked under the tent. No, you can't use artificial wood, boxes nor oil stoves. All that is against the camp system." "Then I think," said Julia, the good housekeeper, "we had better add to our woodpile. We have had such splendid weather, rain must be about due." "We can go out wood hunting when the sun goes down, or cools off, late this afternoon," agreed Mackey. "I think Corene had such a plan already fixed." "Indeed I did," spoke up Corene. "I know what a time we had once at the big camp when the wood pile went low and the storm ran high. Unkink your muscles, girls; there's a heap of chopping ahead." "And do you remember last year at the beach? We were donning our dimities about this time daily," recalled Louise, with a well meaning sigh. "I'm gaining pounds," announced the willowy Julia. "I was weighed this morning." "Have I grown any?" joked Louise, giving one of her inimitable stretches. "You do all seem to be taking to camp life like squirrels to nuts," interrupted the director. "I shall have quite a record to my credit if you keep it up." Time passed so quickly that the call for their class in basketry seemed almost to overlap the rest hour. "To make souvenirs!" This was the attraction that roused the Bobbies even from their own joys in camp routine, for now that they were "away from home," each girl longed to bring back a token to mother, father, sister or brother; and with more than one of them the entire family was promptly put down on the list to receive a handmade souvenir from Camp Comalong. "Undertake simple things so you will be sure to finish them," warned Mackey, for girl-like they planned the most attractive articles held out in the display catalogues. Bags, baskets and little matted trays were finally decided upon, and Miss Freeland, the manual training teacher who stopped at Norm, found an enthusiastic class ready for her dictation. They sat squat on the ground like Indians when the lesson started, but before its finish the squatters had squirmed and crawled from one position to another, fitting each new attempt with a new move, until at the end there seemed to be a heap of girls all piled around the amiable Miss Freeland. "Don't forget we are to receive callers to-day," warned Mackey. "I think the home folks have been very considerate to leave us alone so long." Reluctantly the new task was laid aside, for, as usual, being new, it was also attractive, and at the thought of company everyone stirred around to make things look pretty. Fresh flowers, straightening the burlap curtains on Louise's sideboard, arranging the tent with an eye to absolute order--all this was attended to with skill acquired in the short practice, and Miss Mackin had little to fear from the critical eye of any possible visitor. Honking of auto horns soon warned the Bobbies that their company was coming, and when the honking swelled into a concert, and the concert swelled into a volley, the campers realized they were due to enjoy a surprise. No less than eight cars were finally driven up, and each carried a capacity load of passengers--the whole company representing a surprise party on the Bobolinks. "Surprise! Surprise!" called out the visiting girls, quite like the old time gayety, when country folks came to a party and brought the refreshments with them. So many friends entirely unexpected! It seemed the home folks had sent out the invitations and managed to corral friends for every single Bobbie, not forgetting Mackey, who was so glad to welcome Molly Burbank, a friend of her high school days. And the boxes and the bundles! "A regular picnic!" sang out Louise. "Let's put everything on the big table." "And Helen!" chuckled Cleo. "I am so glad to see you! When did you come back to the lake?" "Isabel, dear, ducky Izzy!" chirped Grace. "We have been talking about you a lot. Can you stay?" Then there was Mary, Carol, Annette, and so many other school and home-town friends that for a little time the mothers seemed neglected, but presently Louise was "hanging on her folks" with such enthusiasm she threatened to do damage to something, while Cleo hugged her mother and her big coz Alem, and Grace almost strangled her mother, so that it all looked like a new version of Mother's Day. The inspection was punctuated with constant exclamations of wonder and applause, and that the Bobbies would find themselves expected to shoulder added responsibilities when they should return home was very evident. "If they can do so well in camp we may hope for great things at home," remarked more than one delighted visitor, but the Scouts shook their heads and refused to promise. Miss Mackin was arranging "the treat." She and her friends had taken over all the tasks so that the younger girls might more fully enjoy the company. The long table, with its dainty paper table cover, was arranged with paper plates (for company only), and the bunches of rarest wild flowers Miss Mackin had gathered the day before gave a real festive look to "the board." "I know I'm going to have my favorite cake," crowed Cleo. "Did you ever see such a perfectly scrumbunctious food shower?" "Never," agreed Grace, "and I do hope there's something to keep in my box, for we can't be sure of our own cooking all the time, you know." "Don't you like it?" defied Corene. She was not willing to have the commissary department thus suspected. "Oh, yes, Corey, and your codfish made with condensed milk is so--new, and sweetish----" Corene threw a paper box cover at the head of her tormentor but Miss Mackin did not see the deprecation. Then the spread was ready, and the company sat down to a camp table laden with home made goodies. "This is one real joy of the small camp," Miss Mackin explained. "In the larger camps they do not generally permit the importing of food; but for Comalong it's a real blessing. You see, we have just been experimenting with our little furnace, and there's the camp kettle," she pointed out the inclined pole with its kettle on end, that hung over one of Julia's furnaces. "And we haven't tried baking cakes since we came," she admitted with an explanatory laugh. "But the pan cakes? Aren't they all right, Mackey?" asked Cleo. She had "tried" pan cakes once or twice. "Yes, indeed, Cleo. You did very well with those," praised the director, "but for real chocolate cake----" "And fudge cake!" exclaimed Louise. "And angel cake!" added Grace. So it went along the table, each Scout acknowledging her particular gift with a special exclamation. There was so much to talk about. And what a buzz and hum of voices surprised the little wood creatures! Not even the pet bunny ventured out from his hollow stump while all that party talked and talked. "If only we could have company?" proposed Julia. "I mean overnight company." "Perhaps we can," whispered Cleo. "Where would they sleep?" Grace queried. "We have hammocks, and maybe we could make room between the cots, by pushing them up together." "Oh, Cleo," Grace broke out. "How could we make room between the cots unless you mean to put someone on the floor?" and she howled at the idea. "Of course, I don't mean that," protested Cleo, between her cake bites. "I mean to tie two cots together and put blankets between the edges, I mean over the edges. There would be room for Helen in that space." "But fancy Izzy sleeping on the rail!" Grace was bound to ridicule the idea. "At any rate I'm going to ask Mackey!" declared Cleo. "Helen would love to stay, and we would love to have her. We could put hammocks up if it didn't rain." At this juncture Grace was asked to refill the water pail, so she and Madaline raced off to the spring. Both cast furtive glances over the hill to Peg's cottage, but not even Shag was in sight to indicate life around the log cabin. "Queer where she keeps herself," remarked Grace, "but I'm going to fetch her some cake, anyhow." "I would too," agreed Madaline. "She doesn't seem like a girl who could bake a good cake." "No," added Grace, "but she surely can ride horseback. I just wonder where she goes every day." "The girls are going riding to-morrow. Perhaps they'll find out." "Maybe. But aren't we having a lovely picnic?" "Wonderful. We'll have enough cake for all week." "I never thought sandwiches could taste so good. I suppose it's because we haven't had any homemade bread since we came." "And Cleo's mother brought jam; Cleo hid it in her box back of the cupboard," said Madaline. "Hurry, they may want the water; at any rate we can treat them to that," declared Grace, and the water bearers made all possible haste over the trail back to camp, spilling just enough of the fresh fluid to tickle the spangle-weed along the way. "They're going to stay! They're going to stay!" Cleo ran to meet Grace with the good news, for lovely as camp had seemed with the patrol as its sole occupants, the prospects of company "to stay," and that the guests should be "Dare-to-do-Izzy" as Isabel was popularly called, and jolly little Helen would could "see a joke half a mile off"; no wonder there was new joy apparent in camp. "Everyone is going," chirped Julia, "and I hope they all saw how much we have improved." "Your pounds, do you mean, Jule? Maybe they couldn't see them. You should have pointed them out," teased Louise. "Now, Weasy, maybe you think they all saw your inches," returned Julia. "There's mother's handkerchief, I know she didn't intend to leave that to me," and she hurried to the big gray car, with the dainty speck of lace and linen. "Give them a cheer," prompted Miss Mackin. "Hurrah for the home folks," led Corene. "Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" boomed the lusty cheer, until the hills echoed and the lake repeated the hail. Then the picnic and shower were over, and the Bobbies were so excited they hardly knew whether to show Izzy the spring or Helen the woodpile. The colors were lowered by Louise and Julia, and then clouds gathering beyond the rim of trees glowered ominously, and that reminded them that they must hurry to gather more wood before the rain would come. CHAPTER XII A RECORD BREAKER "More showers than those of cakes and cookies," said Miss Mackin from the depths of her pine needle pillow. "Just hear that!" Thunder rolled and the rain was finding its way through the trees. "Whew!" Louise almost whistled. "Just hear the wild roar!" Like a concrete body the "roar" rolled down the mountain, and with a terrific rip and tear it hit the tent. "Oh, mercy!" cried Cleo. "Hold on to your bunks!" cautioned Grace. This they actually did, for the wind had struck with such cyclonic force it seemed the canvas would be torn from its moorings. "We have good shelter here," Miss Mackin assured the anxious ones. "There is no need for alarm." If they agreed with her no one said so, for the tent flapped and flapped and tried its best to follow the dare of that wind, until it seemed surely something must give way. The night light had been brought inside, as Mackey secretly expected a big storm, and now just the faintest glimmer shown from its peg where it hung by the front door. To accommodate the company, three cots had been run together and the beds arranged crosswise, blankets and cushions covered the rims, so that it was considered possible, if not probable, that four girls could thus sleep on the three beds. Over in a corner Helen and Madaline shared quarters with Margaret, so that any sort of sleep for that night was rather uncertain even before the storm broke loose, and tried to break everything else loose with it. Another blast and again Isabel called: "Hold fast!" Then there was a slam of something! "What was that?" asked Miss Mackin quickly. Heads were under blankets now and gave no answer. "Did anyone fall out of bed?" she asked, a trifle anxiously. "We're all right," came a muffled reply from the "buckboard" party on the crosswise bed. There was another queer slamming sound! This brought the director to her feet, and having already pulled on her slippers she quickly proceeded to take inventory and count heads. With the lantern in hand she made sure each bed was where it might be expected to be, although she did have to pull down blankets to inspect, but when she got over in the corner to Helen's quarters---- "Where's Madaline?" she asked. Helen ventured to poke her head from its hiding place and then felt around beside her. "She isn't--here!" came the surprising reply. "Where is she? Could she have fallen out?" Miss Mackin gathered the blanket ends to look carefully under the cots, but no Madaline was discovered. "Oh!" shrieked a chorus, as a terrific gust of wind somehow succeeded in blowing out their only light! Such confusion as followed! The girls screamed and howled. Corene begged them to keep quiet, and after a moment or two that seemed like an hour, the wind was again roaring in solo, while the girls at last listened to the entreaties of their director. "Please be quiet," she begged. "I turned the lantern suddenly and with the wind it blew out. There, it is lighted again," and the welcome glow returned. "But where is Madaline?" Another and more careful survey of the entire tent was made, and could the girls have seen Miss Mackin's face now, they might have guessed how intense was her alarm, for really, the little fat Madaline was nowhere to be found! Realizing this everyone jumped up and quickly slipped into emergency covering. "Could she have blown out the door?" asked Cleo. Miss Mackin had herself wondered at that far-fetched contingency, and she attempted to thrust the lantern between the curtains, but a sheet of rain drove her back into the tent. "Where can the child be?" she murmured. "She simply must have blown away!" wailed Corene. "Girls, come along! We must get her. She might blow into the lake!" Storm and danger were forgotten now, for anxiety was too real to admit of anything merely probable. Without being directed to do so each little Scout was getting into some clothing, with the khaki storm coats on top and the chin strapped hats crushed firmly on the tousled heads. "Look under every bed again," ordered Miss Mackin. It seemed impossible the child could actually have left the tent. "Not here!" came the melancholy report, as bed clothing and pillows were tossed aside. There was a moment of such suspense as might have frozen that storm and thus subdued its fury. "We will have to go out and look for her," said Miss Mackin. "Button your coats tight and don't leave each other. Each two take a lantern" (these had been quickly lighted and taken from their emergency line), "we must surely find her very near. She can't really have blown away." They were down the steps, breathing hard and--yes--praying! Darling little chubby Madaline! What could have happened to her? The last girl had scarcely stepped down from the uncertain shelter of the tent when there was a call from within. "Girls! Girls! Looking for me?" It was Madaline's voice and she was in that tent! "Where have--you been?" "Oh, Madie, we were almost dead!" "Madaline, Madaline! We thought you were gone!" The chorus was hysterical. "Child!" gasped Miss Mackin. "Where were you?" She held her by both shoulders as if fearful she would disappear again. "Under the tent," replied Madaline, still gasping for breath. "The little trap door was open, you know, and I got so scared of that awful storm I just dropped down. I never thought you would miss me." "And didn't you hear us?" demanded the excited Grace. "Couldn't hear anything but the storm. Wasn't it dreadful?" "Not half as bad as you hiding away like that," Isabel was almost crying. "Why ever did you do it?" "Why----" "Never mind, children," soothed the director. "She didn't think we would miss her and I suppose she was terrified, but it isn't wise to drop out of sight, especially at night. Get out of your clothes now. The storm is almost over, and to-morrow you will all have something interesting to write in your journals." "I heard something slam," Corene recalled. "That was the door. It hit me on the head," said the innocent Madaline. "Was it your head that made the bang?" Even in the present excitement Grace could not resist the joke. But the girls were not sleepy. They declared they didn't care if they never slept again so long as Madaline was all right, and when they finally did turn into bunks they placed the adventuress safely and snugly in the buckboard, between the two largest girls, Corene and Isabel. "You won't drop down any more cracks this time," declared Corene. "Wasn't it awful woozy down there?" asked Julia. "Not a bit. Just nice and tight and you couldn't even hear the rain," said Madaline. "I hope you didn't upset my woodpile," called out Julia. "And I had a pretty fern growing in a tomato can. I'll bet you smashed it," charged Louise. "Children, dear, try to quiet down," entreated the director. She could not be severe, for indeed she had been a very badly frightened young woman in the hour just passing. "Tell us a story?" begged Julia. "Yes, do, and then maybe we'll doze off," bribed Margaret. "Very well, if you promise to keep quiet and try to get to sleep, I will," agreed Miss Mackin. Of course they promised, and she began; but hardly had she warmed up to her subject when a loud calling, shouting and yelling sounded through the slash of the retreating storm. "What--now!" "Mackey! Mackey!" came the call. "The girls from Norm!" exclaimed someone. "Yes, surely that's they. What can have happened?" gasped Miss Mackin. By now the voices were near the tent and it was evident the cries were not fraught with terror, instead there was laughter, shouts and gales of it defying the winds and rain. "Let us in! Let us in!" cried the victims, and quickly as the tent flap was loosed in came such a looking flock! "Our tent blew away!" gasped Bubbles, she who so often indulged in that popular song. "Blew away!" "Yes, from over our very heads!" The five young women--they were actually five of them--dripped water and laughter in equal proportions, for the rain they brought in with them was now running in healthy little puddles all over the nice, new floor. There wasn't much room to stir around without getting the beds wet, but as soon as the Norms could control their unseeming joy, Miss Mackin tried to find a few spots. This was done by pushing the beds into still more compact quarters, until Corene suggested they stand them on end and sleep standing up. "Do you mean to tell us your tent is gone?" demanded Miss Mackey, when her third shower--the drenched Norms--squatted down to "rip off some water-soaked garments." "We do. Exactly that. It blew away and we didn't even have time to blow a kiss to it," declared Bubbles. "Where are the others?" "At the bungalow. They ventured in, we hope they'll get out all right, but we wouldn't try it. Imagine that prim old couple having such a delightful surprise." "I'm so tired I can sleep beautifully on the floor," declared another of the storm victims. "And please don't let us demoralize your squad, Mackey. They'll be all cross babies in the morning." Their own scare was then recounted and the surprise party made doubly welcome, when everyone insisted they could "get to sleep now," that there was so much "lovely company around." Blankets were easily spared from the cots as the night had not cooled off too suddenly, and the Norms, being all around sportswomen, didn't find the pine boards and good blankets such a poor sort of bunk after all, so sleep was wooed and won finally. They must have realized the morning would bring to them some strenuous duties, for what about reclaiming Camp Norm? CHAPTER XIII DANGER SIGNALS Daylight showed what havoc the storm had wrought. The lake front was strewn with craft washed in by the swelled waters; there were sailboats bottom side up, canvas carried from one end of the lake to the other, rowboats torn from their docks where strong ropes over stronger posts were thought to hold them securely; in fact the storm had been a record-breaker and the new record was one of considerable devastation. Crowds of curious gathered early, and in general terms business was suspended in favor of sight-seeing. But it was among the campers that the greatest damage had been done, and Camp Norm was not alone in blowing away in the tempest. Those who sought shelter in Camp Comalong were up and out early, and the Bobbies were not long in following. "Poor old Norm," sighed Bubbles. "We will now be sure to fall to sub-norm, for never again can we claim to be normal." A camp untented after a downpour of rain is about as forlorn a sight as can be imagined, and it was such a spectacle as this that confronted the Norms on the bleakish early morning. Wet! Wetter! Wettest! The trees still rained; the grass emitted a hissing moisture, the air was as wet as if the rain had anchored in it, and never was there a more unhappy looking crowd than the unroofed campers of Lake Hocomo. "Weren't we lucky?" said Julia. "Just see how everyone has had something damaged and we never lost a thing but a couple of tree boxes." "And the curtains off the sideboard," added Grace. "But they were going anyhow, I caught my heel in one yesterday." Everyone helped everyone get things back where they belonged, and by noon the Norm girls had succeeded in reclaiming the truant canvas and stretching it again over their summer belongings. Many things were irreparably damaged, for even good, strong boxes could not stand the elements when they "elemented" at last night's pace. But the excitement added zest to their spirit, and hither and thither went the Bobbies like a little band of rescuers, carrying and toting for the victims quite like the workers in more seriously stricken zones. A holiday was declared in the afternoon, however, and it was then that Cleo, Louise and Julia went for their long, looked forward to ride. Being assured they had permission from home (it was talked of on the visit with mothers the day before), also assured that a woman instructor would ride with the girls, they left camp directly after dinner, hurried to the home cottages to don their riding togs, and when the sky was bluest, the trees greenest, and everything nicely dried up, the three Scouts, with Mrs. Broadbent the instructor, cantered off through the curling roads of Hocomo. Getting acquainted with their horses took some little time, but they were gentle animals and seemed to enjoy either trotting or cantering as their little riders willed. Out on the turnpike road there were so many motors that Mrs. Broadbent suggested they go cross field and come out along the old mining regions. "Is that where the powder mills are?" asked Cleo. "Yes, there are some big powder works in this district," replied the horsewoman. "We had many soldier boys out here doing guard duty a few years ago." The girls remembered the remark about dynamite signs, more than one person having warned them that the signs might be found but were really harmless, and when their horses smelled the fresh clover on the slope between two hills, Mrs. Broadbent suggested the riders dismount and rest awhile, allowing the horses to "nose around" and enjoy themselves for a half hour. "'Pep' expects a treat when he gets up here," she said, "and Baldy likes this tall grass, he doesn't have to stoop so low to get it." The riders assented gladly. It was delightful to "browse" in such a spot, for the hill afforded a rare view of the lake and surrounding bungalows and tent district. Freely the three Scouts roamed about, searching for odd flowers and pretty stones, although just how the stones were going to be carried without spoiling riding-habit pockets, was not quite clear. The horsewoman stretched herself in the grass and called orders to the horses, should they wander too far from safety. Hunting about, Louise found a pretty little mountain bell in between rocks, where it must have expected security, while Cleo and Julia were soon applying their newest botanical knowledge on the Jack-in-pulpit and companion wild orchids. Glittering bits of stone, the sparkling mica-schist, that looks like pebbly crystals spread on too thick, afforded another line of investigation, and following such a trail into a little ravine, Julia discovered the dynamite sign. At first she was inclined to heed its warning literally, and with a little squeal she dropped one of her prettiest stones and scraped her riding boot in hurrying away; but Cleo was more daring. "Just one of those make-believe signs," she suggested. "Perhaps the boys gathered them from around the old powder works and set them up to scare people away." "Maybe the boys have a hidden cave somewhere and the signs are to keep folks away," Louise amplified the idea so barely outlined by Cleo. "But we had better not follow the trail," demurred Julia. "The rocks are awfully rough anyhow, and we will skin our boots to pieces if we try to climb higher." All three stood looking at the sign but no one ventured to touch the tin square, which stood on its iron peg firmly planted in the ground and mutely gave forth its "Danger" warning. Cleo bent over to look all around the little signal. "There doesn't seem to be a pipe, or a wire, or anything near it," she reported. "I can't see how there can be any danger without something dangerous." "Don't you dare touch it," warned Julia. "It is certainly planted there for some purpose." "Boys, I'm just sure," insisted Louise. "I've often read of their caves in the mountains and how they store things away in them. Boys' books are packed full of that sort of thing." "But real robbers have mountain caves also." Julia was determined to make a good story out of the plot. "How would you like to run into a genuine bandit, with a black handkerchief over his face and two hideous pistols in his hand?" "One in each hand, Jule," corrected Cleo. "That's the regular way," and she stalked forward in the "regulation way," with two pretty innocent Jack-in-pulpits doing service in lieu of the dangerous bandit weapons. "Come along, desperadoes, there's our horses calling us," Julia proposed. "I'd just like to kick over that sign," Cleo whispered to Louise. "Let's get that long stick over there and turn it over," suggested Louise. "Suppose we blow up the hills," laughed Cleo. But Louise had already obtained the stick, and although Julia was headed for the waiting horses her two companions were still fascinated by that danger signal. "Look out!" warned Louise, going a little closer. "Let me do it, Weasy, if there's a blow I can run faster than you." Both giggled and chuckled, becoming more reckless as they joked. Finally both held the stick and attempted to poke. Only girls of their charmed age can do a thing like that in the way they did it, for had the innocent tin sign been a perfectly obvious bomb, the Bobbies could not possibly have made greater show and fuss over their attempt to displace it. "Care--ful!" whispered Cleo, but one thrust of the white birch pole and the sign was uprooted! As it fell from its peg the girls squealed and jumped, but there it lay, like a sign "keep off the grass" or "please wipe your feet," and nothing happened. "I knew it!" snapped Cleo. "Of course," insisted Louise. "Just boys' pranks." "But there could be danger further on," argued Cleo, loathe to give up a perfectly good sensation without even a shiver. "Yes, there's Julia calling; come along," finished Louise. Racing back they stumbled over another danger sign. It was almost hidden in some underbrush, and without stick or precaution Cleo gaily kicked it over, emitting a triumphant "whoo--pee" as she did so. "Guess they grow up here," she told her companion. "Quite a crop of them." "They would be splendid to stick up around the camp 'eats box,'" suggested Louise. "I wish I had brought one along." "Grand idea, and we could put one up in front of our new supply of cake," Cleo added. "I need something like that to protect mine, for the prize chocolate layer is going down very rapidly." There was no time to tell Julia of their adventure. The horses were reclaimed from their pasture, and presently all were mounted again and going on a gentle little trot down the rather steep incline. Where two paths forked and the road was barely wide enough even to be called single, they drew rein to wait for some other riders whose horses could be heard but not seen through the trees. Presently a familiar pony pranced around the curve and on it--sat Peg. "Oh, there's Peg!" exclaimed all three Scouts. "Hello, Peg!" they called cheerily. They were, indeed, delighted to meet her on the road. "Hel--lo!" she answered. There was no joy in her voice, however, although she pulled the blue roan up short--she glanced backward, then the girls saw she was looking for another rider. Mrs. Broadbent realized the time allowed the Scouts with their horses was almost up, so she urged her little company to hurry along. Rather slowly they obeyed, and the second rider was beside Peg now and it proved to be her aunt, Miss Ramsdell. "Aunt Carrie on horseback!" said one girl to another. They were naturally surprised to see the rather elderly and white haired woman mounted. But she sat well, and looked well, although her habit was of the full divided skirt pattern, and she sat sidewise as women did twenty years ago. "Have a nice ride?" Peg called after them when there could be no possibility of more intimate conversation. "Lovely!" called back the Scouts. "Why don't you come around?" shouted Cleo. "Busy!" floated back the answer. "She looks it," Louise remarked, when again they rode slowly, trying to prolong the minutes. "Doesn't she? I wonder what keeps her so busy?" This was Julia's query. "Well, we can't spy, that's a sure thing," reasoned Cleo, "but I wouldn't mind knowing what brings her out riding all the time." "Perhaps she teaches riding over at some of the millionaire places," surmised Julia, always prone to be on the safe side. "Too young," returned Cleo. "Fancy Weasy teaching someone how to mount!" "As if I couldn't!" "Certainly you could, Weasy, but would you? That's the question. Peg would be about as patient as a chipmunk at giving instructions. And she seems too practical to go riding so often just for a good time," reasoned Cleo. Campers and "bungalowers" still moving and removing to overcome the difficulties thrust upon them by the night's storm were now tramping along the country road, lugging, it seemed, everything from bedding to ballast, and among the fugitives the riders met a number with whom they were acquainted. Hailing to these and offering words of sympathy precluded further private conversation, so Peg and her riding proclivities were forgotten for the time. "I'll take you to your cottages," offered Mrs. Broadbent. "These horses will trail along obediently when I lead with Baldy." This offer was eagerly accepted, for the plan would eliminate a walk from the riding school, and when all had patted their horses and promised another ride very soon, the afternoon's particular delight remained only in its joyous memories. "I would rather ride than do any other single thing," declared Cleo, watching her pretty horse canter off riderless. "I love it too," agreed Louise. "But do you know we have to get back to camp? And I have a suitcase to carry. There's the car! Goody! We'll all have a ride back." "Rides and more rides," mused Julia. "I'll be ready in a jiff." In Cozy Colony all three girls claimed their home ties, and the cottages were grouped in one prettily wooded territory, where trees were only sacrificed to make room for a cottage or garage, and where the rustic beauty of the lake resort was otherwise carefully preserved. In the "jiff" specified by Julia the girls again appeared, their linen riding habits exchanged for fresh Scout uniforms, and while Louise lugged a suitcase Julia carried a laundry bag, and Cleo was armed with a rather miscellaneous collection of appurtenances. Five minutes later they were in camp gushing over the wonderful ride. "And I took a cake over to Peg," Grace was forced to interrupt to make known. Then it was that Peg again became the pivot of their interest and speculation. CHAPTER XIV THE ALGONQUIN EPISODE "We were so surprised to see her aunt along with her," Julia was recounting. "They seem awfully chummy, don't they?" "Yes, it is plain to see they are not--just ordinary folks," added Cleo. "But even at that I don't see why she should be so standoffish." "I hope she likes my cake. I left it under a turned upside box, put a couple of big stones on it and told Shag not to let anyone touch it," Grace explained. "Suppose she wouldn't care to accept a cake? She said something that night around the campfire, about not accepting things she couldn't return." This was Cleo's contribution. "If she doesn't like my cake she can easily return that," Grace was very emphatic now, "and then perhaps we will desist. No use trying to make friends with folks who insist on snubbing us." "But she hasn't snubbed us yet," Louise reminded the first speaker. "Oh, no, I know that. I was only saying if she _didn't_ take the cake." "No danger of anyone giving up that lovely mound of sweetness. I wish you saved that, Grace, and gave away the marshmallow; I just love tutti-frutti," declared Cleo. "Didn't you think Peg acted rather queer when she met us?" inquired Louise presently. "She was surprised, that's all. We were surprised ourselves to meet her," explained Julia. "And perhaps too, she fancied we were fixed up and she looked sort of mussy. No one wants to feel that way, you know." "That may have been it," Cleo accepted, but her voice lacked assurance. "And say, Julie, we didn't tell you we tore down the dynamite sign." "Not really!" "Pos--i--tively!" "And you didn't find the danger?" "Only in the black letters on a piece of red tin. But those signs don't grow there, although at first we had our suspicions," Cleo stated facetiously. "And we also suspect caves and bandits," Louise knew exactly the effect this would have on Grace, the adventuress. "Caves! Bandits! Bears and Deadeyed Dicks!" came the prompt string of exclamations from Grace. "Oh, let's go out there to-morrow and explore!" "We knew it; but it is interesting, Grace, and we'll plan our hike for Big Nose Rock if Mackey will agree," Cleo proposed. "Now we must help Madaline and Margaret gather their souvenirs. It's too bad they have to go, but we knew when they came it would only be a few days' visit." "Good thing we can keep Isabel and Helen. It's such fun to have company," Louise insisted. "It was real fun last night," Grace reminded her companions. "I thought we really would have to prop our beds on end and sleep standing up. Wasn't it too funny!" "Not for the poor Norms, although they wouldn't admit it. Bubbles and Struggles had more kinds of fun than I have ever seen even new school teachers fall into," said Cleo. "Such names! Bubbles and Struggles!" repeated Julia. "About like Fuss and Buzz," recalled Grace. "By the way, I wonder what has 'happed' to those heavenly twins?" "Wouldn't wonder but they are calling on other campers," suggested Louise. "They seem so apt to call." This provoked the inevitable mimicry, and if Fuss and Buzz hadn't inflamed red hot ears at that moment, the old saying must indeed have lost its potency. The visitors who were leaving, jolly Madaline and capable Margaret, were being helped pack their bags by Corene, who in spite of offers from the other Bobbies still held to the responsibilities of leadership. It may have been that Corene was anxious to qualify, or it may have been that she really enjoyed the satisfaction she experienced, at any rate it was easy to guess she would be sure to receive "awards" when the camp season would be over, for Corene was almost daily adding to her efficiency laurels. "If only we could have Elizabeth up here for a week, wouldn't she show us a thing or two about housekeeping?" Julia remarked, when in spite of protestations the cupboard was being "finished" by Julia although Corene had "commenced" it. "I can imagine Elizabeth's joy at baking cake in your stove oven, Julia," returned Corene. "She could bake good cake in a camp kettle, I do believe. You know, Corey, Lizbeth is a wizard on bakes." "Yes, she's headed straight for Pratt's and the youngest of our entire class," reflected Corene, flicking a bit of paper napkin from the clock shelf. "I do wonder what makes some girls have such a lot of brains?" "And some girls have a lot of hair, too," reasoned Julia. "I guess it's just natural." "There comes the steamer Madaline's sisters are coming on!" exclaimed Corene, as a tooting and blowing announced the arrival of the "Black Hawk." The captain signalled either for folks to land or for folks to embark, and as the "Hawk" flag now flew from the dock near Camp Comalong he would know passengers there awaited his arrival. Dropping their work Julia and Corene hurried to join those already waiting to see the visitors off, for the coming and going, the landing and embarking, was ever a source of excitement at the lake. Not that company could be definitely expected always, but just as a letter carrier _may_ have good news, so anyone of those many steamers coming up from the depot eight miles away _might_ have company for any of the many campers. Madaline and Margaret were steamed away, amid a wild flutter of waving and good-byes, and back to camp again the Bobbies hurried to prepare for the evening meal. "We are going to have all the Norms down," announced Miss Mackey, who had been up in the devastated region all the afternoon. "They simply couldn't get things dried out, and I insisted they eat with us to-night." "Goody!" chirped Grace. "I think company is the best fun of all. Especially Bubbles and Giggles." "Giggles?" queried the director. "Oh, I mean Struggles. She seems to be always struggling to keep from giggling, so I got her name mixed," admitted Grace. "Perhaps we should ask them to stay to-night," ventured Corene. "Where would we put them?" demanded Louise, impulsively. "All bunk on the floor. It's nice and clean. Lots better than we get on a hike when we sleep like ground hogs in holes," said Corene. "We could house them and I proposed it," said Miss Mackey, "but they wouldn't hear of it and they are going to sleep in the hotel to-night. They want you all to come over and spend the evening there." "Joy!" shouted Isabel. "I just want to see what they do at a mountain hotel in the evenings." "Same as they do at the seashore, Izzy, and you know that isn't particularly exciting," Cleo reminded her visitor. "It was last year when the baby choked on the button. Don't you remember?" This recalled an incident told of in the "Girl Scouts at Sea Crest," and its mention was enough to send the girls off into their easily acquired kinks. But even fun has its limitations, and the time was racing toward supper with the Norms, and then to the evening to be spent at Hocomo's biggest hotel, the Algonquin. "Glad I fetched a clean white frock this very day," remarked Louise, and her companions seemed none the less glad that they too had "fatigue uniforms," a simple white dress used by these Scouts on just such occasions as that they were now dressing for. The storm had driven more than one camp to seek refuge in the hotel that evening, and arriving there the Bobbies were overjoyed to meet a number of their acquaintances from among the summer colonists. Dancing was of the desultory order, but what was lacking in vigor was made up in continuity, for it seemed there was never rest, stop, nor intermission to the programme. It was just one long, languid, continuous dance. Around the edge of the "ball room" the Bobbies danced and capered, not venturing out to take the place possibly claimed by the grown-ups. The so-called ball room was merely the largest room the hotel boasted of, and evidently its festive claims were based upon the faded crepe paper that still clung reluctantly to chandeliers and other conveniently set out points. But the music was "pretty fair," as more than one guest agreed, and it was pleasant to be indoors on this cool summer's evening. Just after Miss Mackin sent around the whisper that there remained only "a few minutes more," the Bobolinks were attracted by a rather familiar drawl stealing in from a window opened on the porch. "Sounds like----" "It is," interrupted Cleo. "Here they come!" "Our dear friends, Buzz and Fuss," finished Julia. "And please observe!" This was whispered and actually reached only those ears very close to her, but it seemed as if some magic announcement had been made, for the entrance of those two young women immediately brought a charge of eyes focussed directly at them. "It may be a masquerade," hinted Louise in an undertone. "Perhaps we have only seen the first act." Their costumes might indeed have answered for a mask, they were so ridiculously extreme. The most brilliant striped satins that suggested clown effects, flowing sashes of colors by no means contrasting, then the hair dressing: such ear puffs, terracing up to a tower on top, "like the jumps to the Essveay fire-escape," whispered Cleo. Really it was no wonder Buzz and Fuss were late if they had to build that effect all at one sitting. The young men with them matched up fairly well, considering the handicap young men must dress under; but their flannels and their patent leather shoes, topped off with purple socks and vivid neckties, did all that reasonably could be done to liven up the male attire. Not a detail was lost on a Bobbie. They sat there fascinated, saving up their laughs for the wild time they would have going back to camp. The dancers drifted around and the conspicuous ones came close to the row of Girl Scouts. As they did so the blondest blonde caught sight of Grace and recognized her. "Oh, the babes!" she cooed, loud enough to be overheard. "The Bobbie babes from the woodsy camp." This was too much for the Scouts, and only a sudden jumping up to the answer of the beckoning gesture from Miss Mackin, who was waiting for the home hike, saved an actual upheaval. As it was, Grace gagged and squawked audibly, Cleo hummed a foolish tune as she always did to invoke sorrow, Louise danced a few steps automatically, and by that time the buzzers had buzzed along. But not finally. At the door the Bobbies stood for a few minutes throwing on scarfs and capes, and while they did so along came the unpleasant ones again. Miss Mackin's attention had been drawn to them by Corene, and she stepped out and stood squarely in front of her little charges like a shield. But that attitude had no deterring effect on the intruders. "How's every little thing over in Camp Comalong?" asked one in a voice that attracted unpleasant attention. No one answered; Miss Mackin shifted her shoulders and sort of urged the girls outside. The Norms were just beyond the door, waiting on the porch. A taunting, high pitched, audacious laugh followed. "Take the babies home and put them to bed," mocked one of the pair. "Too late for little Bobbokins to be out." "Of all the rude creatures!" gasped Miss Mackin. "One would think we were acquainted with them." "They think we are," retorted Corene, quite as indignant as the director. "But I guess everyone else knows them, so perhaps their remarks will not seem--so strange to others." "They ought not to be allowed to insult guests that way," stormed Louise. Even her "canned laugh" was lost track of now. "Did you see those two freaks?" asked Bubbles Norm when the party united on the porch. "And did you hear them?" added Miss Mackin. "They are the two blandest creatures," went on Bubbles. "But I believe their daddy is supposed to be some pumpkins, a magnate of some kind or other." "Pity he doesn't put his daughters in the trust, then," retorted Cleo. "They need something; maybe it's that." CHAPTER XV A PADDLE, A SWIM AND A SUN DIAL Getting the mail for Camp Comalong was one of the duties that brought joy to the Scouts, for each morning, tent obligations attended to and before the hike, swim or other scheduled activity was entered upon, a group of the girls either rowed in Mud Lark, the boat loaned them by an admiring neighbor, or they paddled off in their bright red canoe, the Flash, down the lake to the Post Office Bend, there to receive their allotment from Uncle Sam's mailing service. Usually those girls whose duty it was to raise and lower the colors--when the beautiful flag contributed by Grace's family would be raised to breeze at morning and lowered into loving hands at sundown--this squad also took care of the mail, on their flag week. So it happened that to-day Julia and Grace were due to paddle down stream for the mail. "I think," began Julia in her meditative way, for Julia was something of a literary aspirant, "that we have very vigorous weather in a place like this. When it storms it storms furiously, and when it's lovely it's just perfect, as it is to-day." "Uh--huh!" assented Grace, waving frantically at a canoe across the lake in which she recognized a brace of sweaters--one orange, the other jade--worn respectively by Camille and Cynthia, without a doubt. "Grace, I don't believe you notice the weather very closely," came back Julia, disappointed that her discourse should fall upon deaf ears. "'Deed I does, honey. I noticed it plenty the other night, and am not keen on another spell like that. But when we have really good weather I don't believe in tempting it or spoiling it with flattery. You can't tell about such things, Julie dear." The blonde girl laughed merrily. Who could resist Grace and her unanswerable arguments? There was a satisfying amount of mail to take back to camp, and among the letters was one addressed to Grace and postmarked "Town." "A new friend," remarked Julia, handing this over to Grace, "or perhaps an invitation to a picnic." "No; it's from Peg," returned her companion, already scanning the paper in her hand. Her brows were drawn into a serious line and her full red lips puckered as she scrutinized the page. "Anything wrong?" Julia asked. "Not wrong, but--here read it----" Grace handed over the letter, and her companion read the lines. "Well, that's all right," said Julia, glancing up. They were seated in the canoe and delaying to read their personal mail. "If she doesn't want any companions I don't see why we should force ourselves upon her." "But don't you see, Jule, she says she does appreciate our friendship, but that just now she is not free to follow her own pleasure? Can't you easily see that the girl is worried about something and afraid to even have friends?" "Yet, Gracie, why should we intrude?" "Because if ever a girl needed friends she does, and I need not remind you of our Scout pledge," replied Grace. "I don't usually look for trouble, Bobbs, but I think I see it in that page, and I would like to help Peg to some little bit of summer happiness. You know how much attention we give to making city children happy at Christmas; and here is a girl all alone in a mountain cabin, with no playmates except Shag and her pony Whirlwind, and she says plainly how much she enjoyed our campfire on that one, stingy little night. Now Julie, I couldn't let her slip out of our entire summer with one campfire and a chocolate cake." This was so entirely "Gracious" that Julia laughed outright. "All right, Buddie; just tell me what to do and I'll help you any way I can. I believe you are right, of course. Anyone can see that Peg is tugging away with some sort of claim holding her down. Do you think there can be anyone ill, or perhaps sick mentally and hidden in her cabin?" "Oh, no, I never thought of that. You mean an insane person?" "They might not be really insane, but you know when a person's mind becomes unbalanced their folks always hate to have them sent away from home," explained Julia. "I don't believe that's it. But there is some sort of mystery there. The thing that I resent most is the mean remarks those snippy girls make about her. I just can't stand it, to hear two such silly things as those Buzzys, say such slurring things about a girl who never seems to trouble anyone, or in any way invite criticism." "Yes, it is cowardly. But what can you expect of that type? Didn't they try hard enough to get us into a dispute the other night?" "Yes, and I think Mackey was very calm not to say something back to them." "That would really have attracted attention. She was wise to ignore them," declared Julia. "Well, let's bring the girls their mail and don't worry about Peg. I can't imagine there is anything seriously wrong, and, perhaps, if we just agree with her suggestion something will happen to explain it all." "Perhaps," said Grace doubtfully. She dipped her paddle and they started back, but her usually radiant face wore a look of perplexity. The lake was alive with craft now, many bathers taking to their boats before "going in," as the swim was popularly termed. Canoes, rowboats, launches and every sort of water vehicle was in evidence, ingenuity outdoing itself in the samples of boyish workmanship displayed. There was the "Captain Kidd," a big, flat-bottomed rowboat with sails striped in black and red. This was the property of Benny and his friends, and perhaps attracted as much and more favorable attention than the glistening mahogany "Amerik" that cost its owner a fabulous sum, and was known as a masterpiece in its line. "There really is a lot more to see on a lake than on the ocean," remarked Julia, in spite of the inattention of Grace. "I like it so much better up here than down at the shore." "I do, too," agreed Grace, giving a mighty tug to pull the "Flash" up on shore. "But there's one thing we miss--we can't come in on a surfboard here. I just love that sport." "But we couldn't canoe on the ocean, either," Julia qualified. "Oh, yes, we could. I did--once in a while, and it was simply wonderful. Here are the girls! They couldn't wait for their mail." In bathing suits, ready and waiting for Miss Mackin, the Bobbies were now at the swimming pier. "Mail?" they cried out. "Bushels," called back Grace. "But we ought not to open it here," said Julia, hiding Corene's pet letter behind her. "You know the hotels positively refuse to allow anyone to take mail until it is sorted in the office." "Bunk," declared Isabel, more forcibly than elegantly. "Guve me that mailsky!" "Here it is," agreed Grace, "and please wait for us. You got ahead of us in your suits but we will make up for it in the swims. Come along, Julia. Let's try out some of that perfect day stuff you have been preaching about." And it proved all that had been forecast for it. So ideal were conditions that Miss Mackin agreed to having her girls try out some of the tests for Water Sport Day, an event planned to take place later in the season, and looked forward to with keenest anticipation. The Norms were with the Bobbies, and together they practiced, and invented stroke variations, eager to show skill in the water sports and to win awards for that line of efficiency. Isabel proved to be the best long distance "floater" and her weight, which was something more than that of her companions, was credited with the advantage. Grace was more daring than any of the others, and kept the Norms and Miss Mackin busy shouting warnings to her. Louise had a very reliable, even, clean-cut stroke, and could cover a distance and come out "without a puff," as Cleo described her serenity, while Cleo could dash, and sprint, and "get there" on "shorts" perhaps a little more surely than the others could. So it seemed each might find her particular character in the water comedy, and the morning was not half long enough to put the popular drill through all the paces invented. Julia and Louise were on shore resting a few moments when the latter caught sight of something particularly striking in the way of a figure, posed on the springboard. "Look!" she motioned Julia. "It's the Buzzers." "Sure enough. Wherever do they get their outfits? Imagine, crocodile green?" "Are they green? Isn't it frogs?" laughed Louise. "At any rate that bathing suit is green enough to include all samples." The figure thus criticised sprang off the board now, and was lost in the lake for a few moments. Then it reappeared on the surface and made for shore. "There's the sister," said Grace, who had joined the spectators. "How do you like that geranium? The green would go beautifully with it under glass." "Not jealous, are we?" questioned Cleo, glancing at the simple jersey suits worn by her companions. "No, indeed," replied Julia. "I should hate to try to swim under those colors. But who is that they are talking to? Looks like Peg!" "It is. I thought first it was a boy, she has no cap on and her hair is so slick. I wonder if they really know her?" queried Grace. "They don't have to know anyone; we ought to understand that. Now, we must pass them on the way up the rock. There's Mackey whistling. Let's go." "It will look as if we walked by them purposely," Louise hesitated. "Oh, no it won't. We have to take that path, besides, why shouldn't we speak to Peg?" asked Cleo. She did not know Grace had received the letter with its plea for discontinuing the friendly relationship. "All right, come along. We may as well have it over with. They are sure to say something sarcastic," Julia raced on ahead, so whatever might be said would not be aimed directly at her. But for once the inquisitive two did not heed passersby. Neither did Peg appear to see the Scouts, for she and the two flashily dressed ones were talking in such an excited manner, their remarks, in part at least, could be easily overheard. "Now, remember, we have warned you," said one, her voice sharp and imperative. "I have no reason to fear anything of the kind," Peg retorted. She stood close to the little path leading from the lake to the woodland road, and along this the bathers had to pass to reach the camp grounds. Her suit was dark blue jersey, she wore no socks but looked only a little girl, or even a boy, with her closely cut, straight hair and no bathing cap. As they passed along each Scout was conscious there was a certain strength and individuality so simply outlined in the appearance of the oblivious bather. "We promised daddy we would speak to you," said the other girl, she in the geranium outfit, "otherwise we wouldn't do so. I can tell you we are not anxious to be seen----" These snatches had been heard piecemeal, as the Scouts came and went past the spot where the conversation was being held, but when it was all put together a short time later the total seemed to imply that these girls were somehow threatening Peg. "Another reason why I am determined to stand by her," insisted Grace. She had passed the letter around for inspection and all agreed Peg was trying to hide some real trouble, or perhaps some "living sorrow," as Corene expressed the possibility. "But I wouldn't send her any more cake, if I were you, Grace," advised Corene. "One doesn't like to have things forced upon them." "I don't intend to; in fact there isn't any more nor likely to be, unless we get another food shower. I took a spoon for the crumbs from my box at noon," Grace loved cake, even the crumby kind. "Why didn't you try a straw?" teased Louise. "Or if you had asked me I would have given you a real cookie! I have three left." "Do you know, Bobbies," asked Isabel suddenly, "we are supposed to make a sun dial to-day? And the stake is all ready. See it waiting over there?" "We do, we do, and I have first shot!" Grace sprang up to outline the circle in which the shaft was to be erected as a sun dial. "It must be exactly there," directed Cleo. Grace had it exactly somewhere else. "We have to try it and the sun is just right now for a life-sized shadow," insisted Grace. "Here, help me dig the hole, someone. I want to catch the two o'clock sun." Miss Mackin, who had been in the tent, came out to oversee this experiment. Willing hands soon had the shaft erected; then the pegs which were all ready laid out to be driven in at the end of the shadow for every hour, as that hour came around, were arranged in a relative position. "Do we have to stay up all night to finish it?" asked Helen, innocently. This brought forth a wild shout. "The moon doesn't overlap the sun, Nellie dear," answered Cleo. "We will probably leave off picket duty when the sun gets behind that hill." Peg number two was driven in at exactly two o'clock, and the shadow was so clearly outlined everyone thought this an ideal method of keeping time; but later the shadows were shifty, and only an amount of patience and much running back and forth put the three most important hours of the afternoon in the dial. "I am going to start again early in the morning," declared Grace. "I saw a sun dial in a Chicago park, it was made of those queer tiny cabbage flowers, the kind they say keeps the house from getting on fire, and I remember how effective it was." "Did they use them to keep the park from getting on fire?" taunted Cleo. But Grace was making sure that nothing unforeseen would happen to the pegs left over from the hours already "pegged in." "Won't have to wind it----" she told the others. "But I should hate to have to catch the Black Hawk boat by its silent system," confessed Julia. CHAPTER XVI A DARING INTRUDER Summer was at its height now, and so popular had the camp idea become that friend after friend just called, or paid visits to the Bobolinks, who in turn were as generous with entertaining as their limited quarters permitted. Almost every pleasant evening was spent around the campfire, this entertainment never seeming to lose its fascination. Often the resources of Miss Mackin and her friends from Camp Sub Norm, the new camp erected after the storm's devastation, were put to the test for a new story; but the fire kindled enthusiasm, and the glow inspired fancy, so that rarely was an evening closed, and seldom did the embers fall upon an empty hour, or a tale lacking thrill. The sun dial was now "working," although the sun could not be depended upon always, but it looked picturesque, and if nothing else it served to keep up the girls' sense of observation until not a few even claimed to be able to foretell showers by it, although there was no barometric attachment to the simple, primitive device. Hikes were becoming more popular as the season advanced, and it was on a glorious August day, when the sky was dyed a deep blue and the sun was registering every hour accurately on the garden clock, that Miss Mackin proposed a long hike with the noon meal in the woods. "Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and hike, hike, hike," sang the girls as they prepared their lunches. But the trouble seemed to be not everyone of them had a "Kit bag" nor even a pretty good imitation of one. But Corene came to the rescue with good stout wrapping paper, which she had providentially tucked away in a dry box. "I'll glue you up some war-time bags," she offered, "if you make the sandwiches. I know exactly how to cut the bags, and they'll dry in the sun as quickly as you have the grub ready." So while the others prepared "eats," Corene and Cleo "did the bags," neat little kits they turned out, too, with a good, stout handle of strong twine that might easily be slipped on to a strap and carried knapsack fashion. "The real joy of it is," whispered Louise, "we are going over the hills where the danger signs grow. Perhaps we'll find the cave, or be held up by bandits, or something thrilling like that." "Lovely!" exclaimed Julia. "But do let us keep close enough together to go in pairs, at any rate. I should hate to have to do both the cooking and serving for bandits. It's quite bad enough here with the serving taken off my hands." "All right, Jule. Depend upon it, we'll stick around you," declared Grace. "We don't want to lose our own fireman right in the height of the season." Miss Mackin was smiling good naturedly. Her hike preparations were complete and she sat out in the fresh, early morning, watching her young charges flutter around like little brown beetles, always in one another's way, yet never seeming to interfere, as they made their sandwiches, divided the hard tack, squeezed out lemons and bottled the juice; for the hike was to be a real picnic with all the trimmings. "I do hope, girls," said the director, as they were finally ready to start, "that you are not going gunning for some big, exciting adventure. You see, I know a little about your exploits of previous summers" (she winked knowingly and they wondered how she knew), "and I have such a lovely, lady-like report to turn in," again that explanatory chuckle, "that it would be really cruel to spoil it now." "Don't you like adventures?" asked Helen, innocently. "Love them. But there are so many brands on the market, and we don't, any of us, care for the cheap, trashy kind." The Scouts all agreed on this, and when Camp Comalong was securely "put away for the day" they started off with a song that included a little good-bye to the flag that was to act sentinel during their absence. "Do you think, by any chance, we might get Peg to come along?" Grace asked Cleo. "We pass by her cottage, we can give a whoo-hoo. It won't do any harm to ask her." "We can say we need a guide. I've heard folks say she has guided parties through the mountains. That's one reason they call her 'Peg of Tamarack Hills,' I believe," said Grace. They were nearing the turn that wound past the log cabin. "Are those tamarack trees, Mackey?" Louise asked. She was pointing to the giant green "Christmas trees" that stood in a group near a little settling of water, scarcely large enough to be called a pond but something more sizable than a basin pool. "Yes, that's the tamarack," said the director. "See how it runs to a perfect pyramid, and not like the other greens of that character, this one does lose its green in winter." "Sort of molts, I guess," said Cleo, "for those branches are covered with green pin feathers." They stopped for a few minutes to study this tree of the larch family. It would add to their nature knowledge and give at least one item of value to their picnic hike. "Isn't it very straight and tall?" observed Isabel. This feature was so obvious the others had not mentioned it. "Yes, that's why they make the telephone poles of it, although, I believe, it is not so durable as the tall cedars," explained Miss Mackin. "The little tuffs are just like rosettes," commented Julia. She was trying to reach the lowest branch with a long stick. "Like pom-poms, I think," added Grace, who was barely looking at the big trees but kept searching past them, to the low log cabin that seemed now like a bird house under the trees, and against the big hills. Miss Mackin described to the girls the blossom of these trees, told them of the "rosey plummets that shade from pink to purple," and soon exhausted her personal knowledge to supply their interest; then they journeyed forth again on the next "leg of their hike." Grace and Cleo tarried behind the others. They were still on the lookout for Peg. Giving the familiar woods call they waited a few minutes but received no answer. "There's Shag," said Cleo, "and he's running around as if someone were talking to him. See, there's a light dress moving behind the honeysuckle arbor." "It can't be Peg. I've never seen her wear a white skirt," replied Grace. They could easily see the movement of white between the green vined lattice. "And it can't be Aunt Carrie--she wouldn't wear white either." "Just let's go up the walk and see," suggested Cleo daringly. "Someone might be prowling around." It was only a few steps out of their way, and wild flowers always offered an excuse for leaving the path, so Grace and Cleo had no reason to hesitate. Shag raced out to meet them as they entered the grounds, but the figure in white darted farther into the heavy shrubbery. "That you, Peg?" called Cleo. No answer. "Come on," whispered Grace, "let's go in farther." With Shag close to their heels they followed the wild-grown path, and presently came up to the end of it. "Buzz!" whispered Cleo; for the white skirted one was now forced out of the shrubbery and stood facing the girls who had followed her up. "Oh, we thought you were--that is we were looking for Peg Ramsdell," stammered Cleo. "She's not home," snapped the intruder. "I'm Leonore Fairbanks. I don't think you happen to know my name," said the one who had formerly played only silly parts, "and I came here on business." She made this very emphatic. "The dog is so vicious he won't let me go near the door or I might get what I want even though Peg is away." How evident was her change of manner! Why? "Shag is trained to take care of the cottage, I believe," ventured Cleo, noticing how faithfully the big collie performed his duty, for while Leonore Fairbanks kept down on the path he was friendly enough, but each time she attempted to put her foot on a step of the porch he growled threateningly. "We must hurry after our friends," Grace said awkwardly. "We are going on an all-day hike." "Over to Big Nose?" asked Leonore. "That way," replied Cleo. "Then you may meet Peg." The girl's face swiftly changed as evidently her mind was working as swiftly. "Say," she spoke suddenly, "be good sports and don't mention that you've seen me here, will you?" "Why?" demanded both girls in unison. "Because you know she's such a crazy kid and does such foolish things really. You can believe me it will be all the better for her if she doesn't go flying off the reel, as she would if she knew I came up here. I came on business for dad, and you know I hate to ask a favor, but it would be best if you didn't mention this. If you are a friend of Peg's I think you might do that much for her." "We are as friendly as she will let us be," said Cleo frankly. "But we can't really promise anything. We must run. The girls will think we are lost," and giving faithful Shag a parting pat they ran off to overtake the hiking party. "Isn't that queer?" exclaimed Grace. She had snatched up a bunch of wild flowers for her delay alibi. "Very suspicious, I should say," returned Cleo. "And of course, if we meet Peg we are bound to tell her." "I think we should," agreed Grace. "There must be some reason for that girl's change of manner, and I'm sure it can't be anything that would benefit Peg." "No, and her name is Leonore Fairbanks," said Cleo. "Rather pretty. There, the girls are waiting for us." No explanation for the delay seemed necessary and the interrupted hike was presently doing double time over the fragrant by-paths. Of course the tardy ones would tell the story quickly as an opportunity came up. The top of the hill was reached at last, and from that point the view of the lake and its surroundings lay like a panorama spread out on a silky canvas. It was well worth hiking for, and the Bobbies were breathless in admiration. They scampered from one rock to another, each claiming a superior view until this feature took on the proportions of a new outdoor game. To the right was a dense evergreen forest; small tiered mountains to the left. They stood in a rocky gorge between this and Big Nose Rock. Presently the whinnying of a horse startled the little sightseers. Then Julia called out from her perch on a big flat stone: "Look, girls! Up on the rock! There's Peg! What can she be doing away up there?" All eyes turned to the highest point, and there, like some wild thing of the mountains, stood Peg. She was hatless, and in the usual brown riding outfit. As if the call had reached her, although distance made this impossible, she turned suddenly, threw her head up in a listening attitude, then with a quick move that had in it the impatience of a disappointment, she vanished in the rocks. "What ever can she be doing away up there?" repeated Isabel. "Exploring, perhaps," guessed Julia, "but she has to leave her horse so far away. See, there he is." "And look," again indicated Louise, "there is her aunt over under that tree, reading. She hasn't seen us yet." "Perhaps we can get them to join our picnic," exclaimed Grace. She was unusually anxious to speak with Peg. CHAPTER XVII THE GRANITE STAR CLUE Sightseeing was forgotten now and general interest centered on Peg and her Aunt Carrie. This lady, as usual, was delighted to meet the Scouts, and talked freely to Miss Mackin of her hope that Peggie should "mingle more" with the campers. Peg, herself, had come down from the rock and out of the ravine, disheveled, untidy and plainly tired. "You simply must join our picnic," gushed Louise. "It seems like the best of luck that we should have come up here." Peg smiled and frowned alternately. She noticed her aunt was already under the influence of a sandwich. It was a good fat one, with green lettuce fringe and it came from Cleo's kit. "I'll be back in a moment. I must attend to Whirlwind," said Peg. The girls saw now she had pockets in that big leather apron, and they bulged out--perhaps with some mountain souvenirs. Grace attempted to follow Peg, going toward the horse under a big tamarack tree, but the girl was evidently unconscious of this attention, and as she hurried off, Grace, after a few steps of uncertainty, turned back and flopped down on the edge of the circle of picnic makers. There was something very charming about Aunt Carrie. Even handling the food betrayed her culture, and her solicitation about another's comfort, all pointed to a knowledge of the little things acquired in good breeding. And she was well cared for in spite of the mountain life; her skin though dark was velvety, her hair like white floss, and only when she removed her gloves for handling the food did her little friends have an opportunity of noticing, besides the care her hands received, that she wore a great opal ring, carved with the beetle, perhaps. Peg was coming back, and her pockets had been emptied, for the heavy skirt now slinked around her slender form. She held her boyish hat by its chin strap and smiled happily as she fell in with the group. Yes, her eyes were of the same deep, dark cast, and her skin had that same olive tint, even her gestures showed what a real relation this girl was to the woman in the old-fashioned riding habit. "You ride a lot, don't you?" said Cleo, carelessly. "Yes, it's the one thing to do out here," replied Peg. She was trying something from a number of tempting food samples offered her. "And you enjoy riding, Miss Ramsdell?" said Miss Mackin to the aunt. "I feel more at home on a horse than I do on my feet," replied the woman. "But you see, I have always been used to horses." "And not to feet----" flashed Peg. "Now, my dear, don't tease an old lady. I have hard work enough to keep up with you on foot or in the saddle," replied Aunt Carrie. Both Cleo and Grace were thinking of the girl Leonore Fairbanks, and both were anxious to mention to Peg her presence at the log cabin. It came about precipitately, however. Louise was pouring the lemonade and had just served Aunt Carrie. The cup for Peg was filled and being extended when Grace said: "We saw company at your house as we came along, Peg." "Company?" She accepted Louise's cup. "Yes. One of the girls from the hotel. She said she was Leonore Fairbanks." "Leonore Fairbanks? Where was she?" Peg's voice was a signal of alarm. "Oh, Shag was on guard," put in Cleo. "She was around by the side porch, but no danger of anyone making herself too much at home with Shag doing picket duty." Miss Ramsdell lay down her piece of cake. Peg did likewise with her lemonade. Each had exchanged code glances. "I'll run home and see if--if everything is all right," said the girl, anxiously. "Auntie, you can follow or stay, I'll be all right. Sorry to leave the picnic," she apologized. And the remarks that followed her did not all reach her ears, for as quickly as even she, the lightfoot, could do it, she was on Whirlwind and galloping away down the hills, leaving after her the chagrined Bobbies. "Why did you tell her?" whispered Helen to Grace. "Because she should know," replied the latter, emphatically. Miss Ramsdell was also leaving. "Peggie is so temperamental," she apologized. "But the Fairbanks family are not to be trusted--we have had our own troubles with those girls and their unscrupulous father." "But we are so sorry you couldn't have stayed a little longer," said Miss Mackin. "I was just hoping our girls were finally going to get acquainted. You see we have so short a time here now, and your place has been an attraction from the first," she smiled condescendingly at the glowering Scouts. "Please do not think us rude," begged Miss Ramsdell. "We are not free to act as we would always choose. Sometimes I doubt the wisdom of my niece's determination; but she is determined to the point of desperation, and she keeps offsetting my arguments with the hope of an early victory." (This was ambiguous but sounded effective.) "I must go right along after her," continued the little lady. "If that Leonore should become too aggressive I wouldn't wonder if Peg would just use some muscle on her," and she nodded her head insistently. "We hate to have you go," murmured Cleo. She was going over to the shady spot where the black mare waited its rider. Miss Ramsdell drew on her gloves while the Scout led her horse up to a stone convenient for mounting. "We are so grateful and have enjoyed our little picnic so much," said the woman. "Good-bye, everyone, and perhaps before camp breaks we may be able to offer our own humble hospitality." With a slight effort she was in the saddle. Yes, it was perfectly evident that Miss Ramsdell was very much at home on her horse. "A one reel act," remarked Louise. "I shouldn't care to keep moving at the pace the Ramsdells run." "They surely fear trouble," said Julia. "What can they be so secretive about?" "Whatever it is I wouldn't like to be playing Leonore's part when Peg meets her," remarked Grace. "As her aunt said, she would likely use muscle on the intruder," and Grace demonstrated to the loss of a perfectly good half cup of lemonade that had been, until that moment, in the hand of Julia. "And was Shag really keeping guard?" questioned Helen, keen on the scent of trouble for someone else. "He was doing picket duty," replied Cleo. "It was too funny to see him snoop after Leonore's heels. And she was almost sweet to us. I fancy she thought we might take her part with Shag." "Girls, when you have finished your chow we will take up the trail again," suggested Miss Mackin. "There are some ores and metallic veins in rocks about here, I believe, and we may make some interesting discoveries." "Look out for the dynamite sign," warned Corene. "I wonder who ever planted those signs about?" "Where are they?" asked Miss Mackin. "Over by the Big Nose Rock," replied Louise. "We saw them the other day when we were riding." "And we thought the boys might have a bandits' cove under the hills," added Cleo. "Let's go over that way and explore." Eagerly this suggestion was followed--so eagerly Corene and Miss Mackin had difficulty in obliging the girls to get rid of every trace of the picnic, thus conforming to a Scout regulation. But when the paper bags had all been burned up in a carefully arranged little fire, after which every ember and spark were extinguished, then they took up the trail for Big Nose Rock. They had some difficulty in cutting through from one hill to the next, as very heavy underbrush, especially the iron fibered mountain laurel, hid the rocks and betrayed the hikers' footing; but after a number of minor mishaps all disposed of by the process of exclamation, the Bobbies finally emerged in the little patch of soft green at the foot of the big gray rock. "I found the first one!" called out Helen. "Here's a dynamite sign!" "Don't touch it!" cautioned Miss Mackin. "There is a powder mill not far from here and there may be magazines about." "Magazines!" questioned Corene. They were all inspecting the danger sign half hidden in the grass. "Yes. You know they sometimes bury explosives under the ground. Then they build a little mound above it and call it a magazine." "No mounds around here," declared Julia, glancing critically over the flat surface between the hill and the springs. "But here's something," observed Cleo, who had wandered off a short distance. "Looks like pieces of gray stone." She stooped to pick up a sample and then hesitated. "See how they grow," she remarked, "in a sort of star." Her companions gathered around to observe the curious formation, and Miss Mackin came closer. "Those have been arranged that way," she said. "See, someone has placed the little flat stones in the shape of a star. The boys really must have been up here," she concluded. The girls dropped on their knees and peered closely. Brushing back the grass it was now quite evident that star had been carefully formed, but it was hidden in a little pocket of deep grass, between two slopes that curved up to the rocky hills. "And see how deep the pieces are buried," commented Corene. She was prying up a sample with a small sharp stick. "Some sort of clue, surely," insisted Grace. "What kind of stone is it?" "I wouldn't disturb it," suggested Miss Mackin. "Suppose we just mark the spot so we can find it again, if we want to?" "Yes, let's put one of the dynamite signs here," exclaimed Helen. "I wouldn't," interposed clever Cleo. "Perhaps the dynamite people don't know anything about the star clue. We might lead them to it." "But it's only a stone star," insisted Helen. "And it didn't grow there," argued Cleo. "Look!" exclaimed Corene, who was critically examining the tiny strip of stone she had pried loose. "There are some figures or something marked on this." Everyone now crowded around her to see the characters. "That is not Indian," declared Miss Mackin. "It looks as if it were burned in with acid." She was scrutinizing the little flat mosaic-like block. Yes, there seemed to be a mark there, but it might easily have been on the stone before the star idea originated. "I'm going to keep this piece, at any rate," declared Corene. "Maybe it's a real carved beetle, like the Egyptian Scarabus," she ventured. "Hardly," replied the director. "Yet it is interesting and yours, Corey, as you dug it up." "Then I'm going to have one also," cried Cleo, already on her knees before the broken star. "Count the pieces," suggested Louise, "and perhaps we can all have a piece." "Very well," agreed Miss Mackin, "but mark the spot well. It may have some significance." The girls were eagerly digging up the little granite pieces. As they turned each over they found it marked with characters similar to that found by Corene. "I know! I know!" exclaimed Julia. "I've read about this sort of marking. See, the straight lines. That's the rune." "Rune!" repeated Grace. "Yes, don't you know we read of it in our ancient history? A rune is a sort of alphabet of sixteen characters and all are formed in straight lines." "I remember," spoke up Cleo. "The letters look exactly like our signal code, for wig-wagging. Don't you know there were pictures of funny clothes-pins and jumping-jacks?" Not all were exactly clear in their memory of the runes, but each intended to look it up, and Miss Mackin was delighted that her girls had stumbled upon so interesting a discovery. Carefully collecting all the pieces the Bobbies next proceeded to mark the spot secretly, and it was this seemingly trifling detail that eventually led to the finding of the granite star clue. CHAPTER XVIII A CALL IN THE NIGHT Footsore and weary, but satisfied and happy, they finished the day of the carnival hike. "Let's all help with supper," suggested Louise, who was off duty on the K. P. (Kitchen Police) for that day. "Then we can all go down to the dock and see the excursion boat go out." "We are not hungry, a bit," replied Cleo, "but I suppose we must try to eat. Come on, girls, all join in this chorus. It will be lovely on the lake this wonderful evening." And so it proved to be. Never had the waters of Hocomo taken on a more gorgeous costume. Velvets, satins and silks, in every rainbow hue, were flung in reckless splendor of draperies over the great, soft surface of the water, by a sunset as prodigious as it was profligate. Among the parties leaving, one little tribe of excursionists stayed until the very last steamer insisted, with its thrill whistle, that they either come aboard or stay behind indefinitely. "If only we could stay," murmured one pale-faced girl. She was standing near the Bobbies, who were watching the city children embark. "Do you like it up here?" questioned Louise. She felt guilt in the banal query. "Oh, it's like--Paradise," said the wistful one. "But we'll be glad enough if the firemen in the city turn the hose in the gutter to-morrow to make a lake for us." Louise sighed. So many children like this one must stay in the city, she knew. Others equally sad and fully as wistful were reluctantly measuring each step of the little dock and gang-plank. How they hated to go back! "Oh, girls!" whispered Cleo. "Why don't we try to do something for a little band of that sort?" "What?" asked Grace. "We could lend them our camp," went on Cleo bravely. "We all have cottages here." "So we could, and there are two weeks yet before the general schools open," sang back Grace. "I would just love to let the most needy of a group like that have two weeks at Comalong." "So should I," declared Louise. "Let's try to do it." "There's the caretaker; get a name and address from her," suggested Julia hurriedly. "Better have Mackey do it," said Corene, who promptly sidled up to the director with the proposition. "I don't know," demurred Miss Mackin in answer, "but it won't do any harm to have a name and address." So she in turn stepped up to the director of the excursion party. The children, she learned, were from a tenement district, and were not technically sick, but oh, how pitifully near it! As each little victim passed along, the Bobbies' determination grew. They would be happy to surrender their beloved camp for such a human cause as this. One short hour later, around a friendly little campfire, the plans were made. Everything in the camp and the camp included would be turned over to the city troop (they should all be enrolled as Scouts before taking possession), and for the two weeks before school opened these slum children would come back to Paradise. "You must realize," explained Miss Mackin, "this will mean at least the complete sacrifice of your bedding. You may take these blankets, and we will ask headquarters to send us bed covering, but the cots----" "We will donate them to a mercy camp for next year," spoke up Julia. "I am sure the home folks will all be perfectly satisfied." "And it won't hurt our lovely flag," reasoned Louise. "Of course we will turn everything except our personal belongings over to the organization, at any rate." "Did you expect to make Comalong a regular summer Scout camp?" asked Miss Mackin. "Surely," replied Corene. "We were just experimenting at first, but now we know it will be a real practical camp for any amount of summers." "In that case," proposed Miss Mackin, "we will notify headquarters and have inventory taken at once. Are you perfectly sure you want to give up before the end of the month?" "Positive," insisted Louise. "I couldn't enjoy this a week longer and remember that little wistful, woeful-faced girl, who said she hoped the firemen would be allowed to make a gutter-lake in the city for them to-morrow." "Indeed, we couldn't," chimed in Corene. "And besides, just think what it will mean to give a real fresh air camp donation?" "Yes, nothing could be better," assented the director happily. "And as you all can go to your home cottages it doesn't seem quite so gigantic a sacrifice." "But camp is ideal," murmured Julia, putting one more small log on the dying embers; just enough to keep mosquitoes away. "Perfect," joined in Cleo, her voice dropping or dripping with regret. "That's the very reason we want to do this--to put a seal of a perfect summer on it all," declared Corene, who perhaps more than the others felt a really deep responsibility for that camp; from its very inception at the Essveay School, to its fullest day, that just closed on the carnival hike. So it was all agreed and settled. Camp Comalong was to be turned over to the city children and their Social Service caretakers, by the end of the week. Somehow it was a little saddening, however, and it was very evident that the Bobbies did not feel like singing the usual woodland Good Night, as they prepared for their sleep in the big canvas cradle under the stars. "Dreaming!" minds dimly awoke with that vague idea. "No, someone is calling," spoke Isabel, as if anyone had spoken before. They listened. Came a cautious call: "Girls! Bobbie! Grace!" "It's Peg," exclaimed a chorus, and with that realization each felt just a little bit guilty that the new ideas of the evening before had so obliterated the troubles of Peg from their Scout consideration. Bare feet instantly pattered on the bare boards. The night light was reached and turned up and the tent flap "unlocked." And there was Peg with her Aunt Carrie! "Oh, do come in," begged Miss Mackin, anxiously. "What has happened?" "Nothing," replied Peg a trifle cynically, "but we were afraid something might happen to these," she indicated a box she carried and also an armful of what seemed to be rolled cardboard. Quickly the girls made the night visitors welcome, and with skill acquired from a similar previous experience, they were now preparing to "double bunk." Miss Ramsdell (Aunt Carrie) sighed deeply and sank down with very evident relief. "I insisted that Peggie come down to you," she explained. "Ever since we got back from the hills yesterday afternoon, mysterious men have been prowling about our cottages," she explained. "Perhaps just to frighten us," added Peg. "At the same time these papers are so precious I was very glad to bring them down, if we don't upset you too much?" "We are simply delighted to have you come," said Corene, sincerely. "And we never could have induced you to if something like this had not happened." "But I wanted to come more than you can ever know," said the girl with the wonderful black eyes and the glossy crow-black hair. "You see, I was guarding daddy's treasures. When he went there was no one left but me, and I was to finish his life's work. I have been trying to do it." Her voice tapered to a whisper, and no one attempted to intrude upon it. Finally Aunt Carrie, from her grateful quarters, spoke: "Tell them, dear, about the patent," she said. "Let us make you comfortable first," suggested Cleo, considerately. "Here, Peg, this is where we keep our treasures. Do you want to put yours in here?" She opened a very small door in a packing case that was hidden beneath extra blankets and some clothing. "That's a splendid hiding place," replied Peg. "One would think it nothing more than a case of supplies. Yes, if I may, I'll put my things in there." First she lifted in the box, that plainly was heavy; then she placed upon it the roll of stiff paper. "Oh," she sighed wearily. "I believe if it had not been for Shag I should have lost these long ago." "I thought to-night, however," added Aunt Carrie, "that faithful Shag was in danger of being shot. That is one reason why I urged Peggie to come down." "Yes, I felt that way too," said the girl. "I heard a sniper's shot long after anyone would have been out hunting." "Where is Shag?" asked Julia. "Just outside our door here," replied Peg. "He won't leave until we do." "We are glad to have him also," said Miss Mackin. "We have not felt the need of a watchman with Officer Porter around, but to-night----" "We could not have ventured over the hill except for the officer's escort," said Aunt Carrie. "It was when we heard his whistle we decided to make a dash." "Yes, we have been having quite a night of it," put in Peg with a girlish laugh. "You should have seen us, like a couple of movie ladies, armed to the teeth and posted behind our strongest door! If we had not been in such serious danger I should have thought it a wonderful joke," and she laughed lightly at the memory. "Armed to the teeth!" repeated Grace hopefully. "Yes, indeedy; I had the best and biggest revolver, and auntie held to a shotgun, and when we made sure we were really in danger of being bombed or burglared or something, we just loaded up and stood guard until we heard the officer's whistle. It seemed ages," she finished seriously. "And haven't you even been to bed?" asked Julia, anxiously. "Oh, no, indeed. You see, that Leonore began this attack yesterday, after you saw her prowling around," explained Peg. "Her dad claims a right--a business right to what my dad discovered. That's why we have had to act so mysterious and live behind bolted doors," she added. "One glimpse of dad's drawings would spoil everything for us," she finished. "That's why!" exclaimed Grace; for in the simple statement had been disclosed the mystery of the hermit life of Peg and her Aunt Carrie. "Yes, my dear brother, Peggie's father, was confident the machine he invented would bring us great wealth, and besides this he had many land claims about here that he felt would bring valuable ores." "And _that's_ why you went to the hills so often," burst out Louise. "We wondered and wondered." "Yes, that's why," agreed Peg. "You don't think your robbers would follow you down here?" asked Isabel, not fearfully but rather confidently. "No, we have covered our tracks," said Peg. "They might see Shag----" "Bring him in," begged Cleo, who loved Shag or any other "nice dog" right next to her companions. "There isn't really any danger of them following us," said Peg. "Besides, we will have a couple of extra watchmen in the woods between now and morning. But I know Shag will just love to come in." So it happened the Bobbies had a company of three to billet--when finally Miss Mackin succeeded in inducing everyone "to quiet down and wait until morning" for the telling of the real story of Peg's fight to establish the rights her father had left her to struggle with. CHAPTER XIX SHAG: THE ALARM CLOCK Daylight was just peeking through the little crack in the tent flap when Grace screamed: "Oh, my! For goodness' sake!" she yelled. "Someone, somebody, something, Shag wants to kiss my toesies!" The self starters sat up and looked around--the other groaned. Yes, there was Shag trying to make friends with anything that moved, and Grace must have unconsciously moved that foot. "What do you want, Shag?" she asked. The big, bushy tail whisked things around rather perilously in the narrow quarters. "Shag is an early riser," said Peg, trying to untangle herself from the things that held her on the rim of a cot. "He wants to run off and see what's going on outdoors." She patted her dog affectionately, then allowed him to run out, off over the hills to his own quarters. But the spell was broken. They were awake, those insatiable girls, and ready even now to talk to their visitor. Grace "whispered," but the sibilant swish of sounds seemed more resonant than an outspoken address might have. "Don't wake Aunt Carrie," she warned, although _she_ was the alarm clock going off at that very moment. "Don't wake Mackey," giggled Louise, after Mackey had thrown a leaky pine needle pillow at her head. "And just look at Izzy," begged Cleo. "She's soundproof--like our music room at school." "Go on, Peg. Tell us about it," implored Julia. "I dreamed of you and your shotgun all night." "I didn't have a shotgun, that was Auntie," replied Peg. "Mine was a real up-to-date revolver." "Oh, do tell us!" begged Helen, sitting up and shaking her spaniel-like mop of hair. It was bobbed, and curly, and altogether very pretty. "Did you shoot through the door, or was it through the window?" mumbled Cleo, determined to have some shooting in the landscape. Peg laughed merrily. Then she stretched without warning Corene, and the effect was accidental. When both girls got up from the floor, one from either side of the extension bed, and when it was finally conceded that everyone was awake and therefore the water-fall whispering was no longer necessary, "conversation was resumed," according to Grace. "And we never could have induced you to come, Peg, if something didn't happen. Yet, from the first we all planned 'to get you,'" she finished, a tragic note taking care of that final ominous phrase. "I wanted to come more than you could possibly have wanted me to do so," said Peg, a trifle seriously. "But you have no idea what a complicated thing it is for a girl to try to do anything really worth while." "Oh, yes--we--have!" drawled Julia. "You should see me try to make a fire to cook breakfast on damp mornings." "Not that kind of thing, Julia," warned Grace, fearful that Peg would be diverted from her story. "And did men really try to break in your cottage?" asked Helen, sensation seething. "It's rather a long story," admitted Peg. "Go on and tell," begged Louise. "I don't think there is anything so comfy and cozy as story telling in bed," and she gave the blankets a premonitory swish that sent a pair of sneaks flying at her neighbor's head. "Of course, we don't want to intrude--that is, we don't want to appear curious about your private business," apologized Cleo, with a painful attempt at politeness. "I am just too glad to tell someone," replied Peg. "If you could ever know what it has been to be misjudged by everybody: to have people taunting you and to hear all sorts of foolish things said about you----" "But people up here admire you--very much," insisted Grace. "Old Pete, the boatman, told us how you rescued the man from the ice last winter." "Oh, that," replied Peg. "He wasn't really unconscious, and I had help to get him on Whirlwind. But you know how fine men are. They are generous and good-natured. Not like----" "Say it, Peg! Not like girls! That is what you are thinking and I just agree with you," spoke up Julia. "We saw how contemptible those flashy girls were from the very beginning." "Because they are the daughters of this man who has been claiming father's rights," replied Peg. Miss Mackin and Aunt Carrie were now talking in an undertone over in their end of the tent, so that the girls were quite free to carry on this disjointed conversation. "And what happened yesterday after you left the hike picnic?" asked Cleo. "When I got back to the cottage there was Leonore Fairbanks trying to make friends with Shag. If she could have gotten in the cottage, you see, she hoped to find the drawing and plans for the invention," explained Peg. "Then parts of the machine also are hidden in our house, and if she could have obtained any single part of that machine the men might have been able to guess at its principle." "Oh, that was why you kept folks away from your house, was it?" asked Grace. "Yes. Daddy charged me to protect all that work of his until I could turn it over to his brother, my Uncle Edward. He has been abroad and I expect to hear any day that his steamer is in New York. What a relief that will be," she sighed. "What steamer is he on?" inquired Julia. "The Tourlander. He was in Egypt when daddy died and could not come until he finished his business there." "The Tourlander is the very steamer my Aunt Marie is on," said Julia, "and it was sighted yesterday. Daddy had a message; mother told me about it when we went for the mail." "Sighted! Oh, Aunt Carrie, did you hear? The Tourlander is coming in! It has been sighted!" Peg exclaimed gleefully. "Really, my dear!" and that message had an electrical effect on Miss Ramsdell. "If Uncle Edward is coming in we must be stirring. How strange it all seems? That I should sleep in a tent again! I have always loved camping, and since Peggie's mother died we spent quite a lot of time traveling about. You see," she explained to everyone, "my brother was a geologist, and at one time was employed by the government to sample ores. That was how he came to be interested in these hills. He insisted there were valuable zinc veins up here. Come, Peggie dear, I feel so anxious now. Won't it be splendid if your Uncle Edward comes just now when things seem to be so critical?" "We need him, Auntie mine," replied the girl, who was partially succeeding in freeing herself from the girls who vainly tried to hold her for a fuller story. "I'll tell it all to you, every single bit," she promised. "But we really must hurry back to the log cabin. Suppose we have been bombarded during the night? Then, what would we do for a house and home?" "Oh, we haven't told you we are going to give up camp," exclaimed Grace. "We really haven't had a chance to tell you anything, Peg." "Not when you insisted that I do all the talking," replied the other. "But why are you going to desert camp?" "In the interest of humanity," said Julia, solemnly. "We are going to give it to some children who need it more than we do." "Am I included?" asked Peg. She was almost dressed, and some of the girls were hurrying to be ready before she left for the hills. "You simply can't go without breakfast," insisted Miss Mackin. "We will have coffee ready in less than no time----" "But here is Shag, back," interrupted Peg. "What is it, boy? What's going on up there?" He wagged his tail and "smiled" and flipped his ears. The big collie tried to lead his young mistress to the outdoors, at least he moved that way himself and gave Peg a most appealing look from his big, soft, brown eyes. "We're coming," Peg answered him. "Girls, it is perfectly delightful for us to be at camp and I have been envying you this joy all summer, but if you will excuse us, we are so anxious to get back to our abandoned home----" "Are you going to leave your valuables in our safe?" asked Louise. "I would like to--if it wouldn't worry you too much----" "Not the least bit. In fact if you leave them we will feel sure of another call, and that's a big consideration," declared Corene. Peg laughed lightly. It was full bright daylight now, and the odor of dewy softness, the breath of things green, permeated camp and grounds surrounding. "Don't you want to be introduced to our bucket-brigade washroom?" asked Louise. "Come along; the line forms on this side," and she dragged Peg out under the runt oak, where a guest basin, turned upside down, made a safe pedestal for a twittering robin. He hopped off politely as the girls tip-toed up. "That's our Bobbie Robin," said Louise. "We have him almost trained to eat from a little table Julia erected for him. We place his breakfast there, and what bird wouldn't eat a fresh cereal even from a tiny table?" "Here comes our officer!" exclaimed Peg, as a cracking of leaves gave warning of approaching footsteps. "Good morning!" called out the man in blue. "All safe and sound down here?" "Perfectly," replied Peg. "Anything new on the hill?" "Not just this morning, but we had some trouble last night," said the officer. "You were right about the prowlers. We found a couple of railroaders hiding behind your barn." "Are the horses safe?" This query showed Peg's new alarm. "We made sure of that. I put Tim Morgan right in the cosy little room there, and Tim was grateful for the bunk. Also, no one could come near those horses with him on the scene." "I must hurry back," said Peg to Louise. Others of the girls were now moving about. "No need for worry," assured the officer. "These railroad men are the sort that walk the tracks, you know. They must have been hired to look over your place, but they're busy looking out of a very small window about now," and he waved his stick in the direction of Longleigh, where the little country lock-up was situated. Aunt Carrie was now out of the tent and ready to go back to the log cabin. She exchanged questions with the night watchman, and presently she was saying her thanks and her good-byes, also promising to return for a real camp meal just as soon as she and Peg could safely leave the cabin. "If my uncle comes I shall be as free as your Bobbie Robin," said Peg. "I intend to turn everything over to him; and what a joy that will be!" "Then you could come down here and help us wind up camp?" asked Cleo eagerly. "I suppose I could if----" "You must, my dear," insisted Miss Ramsdell. "You really must take a holiday." "But I am somewhat disappointed," said Peg, she was looking over the mist-veiled hills. "I hoped to have been able to follow out dear dad's advice----" She stopped suddenly, then shook herself free from the detaining arms, and promised again to come back to campfire that very night. "And tell us all about your blockade?" said Helen. "You mean stockade, Nellie," said Cleo. "But it is all the same in the glow of the campfire where all good stories get their magic touch." "Good-bye!" "Good-bye!" And then the guests from the hilltop left. For a few minutes the Bobbies stood, a little disappointed, but still expectant. "I should be afraid to go back to that place," remarked Isabel. "The officer is going to unlock and search first," said Cleo. "I wouldn't mind going along to see the fun." "Just imagine those two people standing ready with guns!" exclaimed Julia. "I wouldn't care to trust myself with a tempting little gun," confessed Louise. "I have always thought what a temptation it must be to pull a trigger." "Like our Fourth of July pistols; so have I," admitted Isabel. "Girls, do you realize it is almost time for colors?" asked Miss Mackin. "Suppose we sing a cheery 'Good Morning' to get our brains cleared up from all the excitement?" Then the birds in tree and bush flew off, jealous of their woodland rights, for the Bobbies really could sing, at least sweetly. The colors were flying and a scent of coffee floated generously about, when two men on horseback came galloping along and drew rein at the foot of Comalong hill. "Hey, there, sissy!" called one, rudely. "Do you know where Peg is? The girl from the log cabin?" "Don't answer," warned Miss Mackin quickly. "If they want information, that is not the way to seek it," and she turned the girls back to the breakfast table where the "K. P.'s" were already busy serving. The next moment the riders galloped off, and the Scouts suspected correctly that one of the men was Francis Fairbanks. CHAPTER XX THE ROOM OF MYSTERY How things had changed! The new day stood out independent of its past and future. Peg had actually spent the night in the Bobbies' camp, and her treasure was now hidden in their packing-case safe. Also, dear Camp Comalong was fading away, or was it looming up large as a proposed Samaritan camp? Breakfast was not finished when Benny came pumping along on his wheel. "Folks got word about your aunt, Julia," he began after a very informal greeting, "and I came over to tell you your mother wants you to come home sure, day after to-morrow." "I'm going to, Ben," replied Julia. "My Aunt Marie is bringing me something from Paris. I'll be on hand to welcome her, never fear," said the blonde girl archly. "We are going to give up camp, Ben," announced his own sister, Grace. "Won't you have a bun, or something else to eat?" she invited the boy, who stood with hands in pockets, plainly admiring the camp life freedom before him. "Going to give up?" he almost shouted. "Then can we fellows have it?" "Oh, Ben, perhaps you boys could have it after the next two weeks, but for that time we are going to sacrifice it for some very needy city children, who only get a breath of real air when they come up on an excursion," explained Grace. "Oh, a fresh air camp!" Benny's voice fell in disappointment. "Not just that kind," continued the sister, "but we saw some poor, little pale faces the other day, and we just couldn't stand their longing for a few days in the real country. So we are all going back to our cottages, and going to give up the Comalong for two weeks before school opens." "Then where would we fellows come in? Two weeks before school----" "Our schools don't open till later," explained Louise, "and you know, Benny, September is the most beautiful month to camp," she placated. "Every month is good enough," insisted the boy, "but of course, if you've promised." He was evidently not fired with the same sort of philanthropy that inspired the girls. "Come on, Benny, try our camp-made Johnny-cake," urged Louise. "Just think, we bake that right on top of that stone oven." "I don't want to think of it," growled the real boy. "I know what we Boy Scouts could do with this outfit." "Poor Ben," and Grace threw an arm around the brown-haired little fellow. "Never mind. I'm coming home and I'll make you as much fudge as every boy in your crowd will want to eat--at one sitting," she qualified. He was finally induced to sample the Johnny-cake, but when he left there was a defiance in his manner, akin to recklessness. "I don't care, anyhow," he prevaricated. "We're going to camp up on the hills next week," he flung back, jerking his wheel up in the air to start, as if it had been a pony with its bit too tight. "A busy day approach--eth," warned Corene. "We must have our trial swim this morning, you know." "Yes, and we have to go for the mail. It's my turn and yours, Weasy," said Cleo. "And I've got to go around to all the cottages and give warning we are going to break camp, I suppose," said Julia. "I know the mothers will be glad to get the news, although they may not admit it." "And I'm going to take a run up to Peg's and see if she is all right," declared Corene. "Maybe now that she won't go over the hills looking for that lost claim, she may take time to have a civilized swim with us." "She may; but then again she may not," interposed Cleo. "Don't you remember she said there was something she was disappointed about not being finished?" "Yes; we couldn't get all the story, there were so many interruptions," said Corene. "But wasn't she a wonderful girl to work so hard to follow out her father's ambitions?" "Yes, like a big, strong boy, she has been going up those hills daily. She didn't say just what she was looking for, did she?" asked Julia. "Zinc mine, wasn't it?" suggested Louise. "Something about ores," added Julia. "You know her Aunt Carrie said Mr. Ramsdell used to be a government geologist." "Yes," agreed Louise, vaguely. Geology meant stones, they all knew, and as for the ores--well, it didn't seem to be gold and to the indifferent ones no other metal seemed to suggest sensational developments just then. An hour later they were in the lake, trying out their contest stunts. Corene did not succeed in inducing Peg to accompany them, as the excitement around the log cabin was still in evidence. Even the officer sort of "hung 'round," to "keep an eye on things," and when Corene made her flying trip up there she found Peg so busy that good sense forbade the Scout delaying her. The swim over, next came the delivery of all those homemade messages. Hither and thither scouted the Scouts, until lunch time was pointed out by the faithful little sun dial, and that was not a point to be overlooked. Only two days remained now until the week would be closed. Then would come the excitement of breaking camp. Miss Mackin had already notified headquarters of the Bobolinks' determination, and to-day a visitor was expected to take inventory. It was all delightfully thrilling. In spite of the natural regret that accompanied this sacrifice, there was also that joy of satisfaction that always comes with the doing of a real heroic act. Every girl-Bobbie of them felt it her own personal privilege to invite those city youngsters out to Lake Hocomo, and likewise each felt the elation of "doing a big thing." "I wonder when Peg will come back for her valuables?" mused Grace. They were "slicking" up the grounds for the day's inspection--someone always came by and looked in on pleasant mornings. As if the expressed thought had ticked off a message, scarcely had Grace uttered it than Peg and Shag came racing over the hills. "Here she comes!" sang out the impetuous Helen. "Oh, say, girls!" Peg called on ahead of herself. "Don't you want to come up and see my cabin?" "Do we?" The enthusiasm of Cleo's tone was pure compliment. "Just wait until we get these papers in the incinerator," panted Julia. "We will all be off duty then and glad to go up to your cabin." Everyone felt that way, which was evinced by the unusual haste made in the slicking-up process. Peg looked like a different girl! She had discarded the mountaineer's costume and wore a simple white dress. The effect was startling. All that severity of outline had vanished. Even the slick black hair seemed to turn up just a little--perhaps with the heat or was it from excitement? The girls were surprised but hid the fact completely. With a word to Miss Mackin--who like the others was hurrying, although her task was to finish a very pretty basket for her mother--they all raced off with Peg and Shag. The big dog was frantic with delight. It was very evident he had taken a real liking to the little Scouts. "You will have to overlook some things," warned Peg, as they neared the bungalow, "for although auntie is a crackerjack housekeeper she has me to battle against." Awe, the concomitant of enthusiasm, possessed the girls as they stood on the threshold of that mystery house. As Peg ushered them in, however, each expressed surprise. "What a duck of a room!" cried Grace. "Isn't it?" agreed Corene. They were surveying a very quaintly arranged room, indeed. The low beamed ceilings were of natural rough cedar, the field-stone fireplace stood out like a primitive shrine, and on the floors were the most wonderful Indian rugs. "We brought those rugs from the West," Peg explained, noting the girls' admiration. "But I want to show you--my studio." She unlocked a door and ushered the visitors into a very long darkened room. When all were within, she swung the door back, shot a bolt and switched on lights. "Oh, a shop!" exclaimed Isabel. "That's just what it is," answered Peg. "This was dad's shop and I have been tinkering here since he left it to me. I miss him dreadfully, for dad and I were great pals," she said bravely. "And this is the machinery you have been guarding?" said Louise, just daring to put one finger on a long piece of steel that did not go off following the contact. "Yes," said Peg. "You see, even now I would not leave that door unlocked, and we have never kept a servant since dad started this invention. It is a machine for drilling rock; it will pick up certain kinds of minerals and is most valuable because it can be worked without steam power. Dad had not quite finished it, but he was positive of its value, and a single look at the simple mechanism, he warned me, would easily betray its principle to any skilled mechanic. That is why the windows are boarded. See," she went to a window and raised a shade, "I can get light from those slanted boards," she explained, "but no one could possibly see into this room. We have a tank that makes our own gas. Daddy was very ingenious," she finished, coming back to the machine from which she had taken a heavy blanket covering. The Scouts looked about, bewildered. What could a girl do, really, with iron and steel, and leather belts! "And how did your father get these parts made?" asked Julia. She knew something of machinery, as her own father was a manufacturer. "Dad made the patterns, in wood, you know, then he had them cast in the city. He assembled the parts himself, of course. I have never allowed an eye to rest on this," she declared, "for to me it is all something sacred. When Uncle Edward comes he will only have to finish the negotiations with the patent office and ship them this model. It is not so big--that is one of its great attractions." She seemed to fondle the queer-looking machine, which was, as she said, not very large; it could all be put in a crate the size of a packing case. "And men came last night to break in just to see this?" It was incredible, Louise thought. "Yes, but there is more than the machine you see," said Peg. "There are the drawings, and samples of ore and--other things. I have those in your safe you know," finished Peg. "It is dear of you to trust us with all this----" began Julia. "I wanted to do it, you have been so splendid to me," declared the black-haired girl. "And I must have seemed so--bitter!" "No, just mysterious, and that made you fascinating," declared Grace, giving Peg a counterfeit hug. "But how did you do any of this sort of work?" pressed Corene, still looking at the formidable machine. "I have a hand drill, and every single day I spend some time just as dad did, collecting specimens. You see, I am looking for zinc." "What does it look like?" asked Cleo. "It is a little, bluish white vein. I have pieces in my box. I'll show them to you perhaps this evening," offered Peg. "And two men called up to the tent just after you left this morning," remarked Cleo. "They yelled 'sissy' and we didn't answer them." "Were they riding?" asked Peg. "Yes. Two big capitalistic looking gents," said Corene. She was still fascinated with the ore drill, for Corene had a manual training turn of mind. "Mr. Fairbanks and his New York partner," explained Peg. "They came up here with all sorts of threats, if I didn't let them see dad's papers. But when I told them the Tourlander was coming in port--as you told me, you know--they didn't seem quite so--fierce. Big men like Fairbanks are always cowards," declared Peg, with a pardonable sneer. "Did they see your guns?" joked Louise, looking about for a possible glimpse of the weapons. "Didn't get a chance. I just met them outside the hedge, and they didn't even leave their horses." A long low bench stood under the window with the inverted blind. One by one the girls slid into place on it, like a band of little kindergartners. "I have always longed to see a real factory," ventured Cleo. "I should love to hear your buzz, Peg." The "manager" stepped over to a small machine and pressed her foot upon it. The buzz promptly responded. "Oh, let me try it! What will it do?" exclaimed Corene from the admiring group now surrounding the buzzer. "It will grind anything. See, it is run by a motor," explained Peg. "Wonder would it cut Corene's hair, nice and even," teased Cleo. "I've heard that very self same tune in barber shops." "But where do you get your electricity from?" pressed Julia, the intelligent. "There are a few poles in the hills and dad had one tapped for his own use," replied Peg. "You know the big hotel is wired." "If we had known it we might have had a pole tapped for Comalong use," put in Grace, facetiously. "I've had an awful time doing my hair at the beach-tree dressing table. Just think what a spot-light would have done for us." Corene was grinding the point of her belt buckle on the revolving emery wheel; Cleo was examining some outlines and drawings tacked to a drawing board, while the attention of Louise was riveted upon a line of tools set in graduated order upon a convenient shelf, as neatly placed as the kitchen knives, spoons and ladles in her mother's orderly pantry at home. "Peg," said Corene, trying the buckle's point in her blouse, "couldn't we open a little factory here and sharpen knives and forks for the campers? We might fix umbrellas too. I've seen the grind men do it at this sort of buzzer." Peg laughed happily at the girl's humor. "You don't know how good it seems to hear real, human words in this room again," she said after an emphatic pause. "Auntie has been so afraid of everything that I suppose I've inhaled the air of fear, unconsciously." "I think Corey's idea perfectly spiffing," added Cleo. She was looking for something to sharpen on the wheel. "You mean spoofing, Clee," insisted Grace. "If you will read trash why don't you do it with a pad and pencil?" "But all joking aside, girls, can't you imagine what all this really means? I think Peg is the bravest girl we have ever met," Corene declared heartily. "Oh, much," added Grace, with a side step not indicated in the factory recreational programme. "Can't we do something to testify to our esteem? You know, the little 'token of' business." "Kindly keep your skirts away from my wheel," ordered Corene, still grinding, "or you may get a most unexpected 'token of' around the ankles." "Your dad was a wonderful draftsman, Peg," commented Cleo, with her newly trained eye tracing the intricacies of the drawing board. "I never could learn to follow such fine lines and measurements." "They wouldn't look well on your nut-bowl or your candle-sticks, Clee," remarked Louise. "Better stick to the school designs; they're simpler." "This is all very lovely, and more absorbing than the mechanical display at the State fair," put in Julia, "but you know, girls, Peg hasn't really hired us yet." A tap at the door interrupted. "Peg," called Miss Ramsdell. "Here's a message." Quickly opening the door, the girl accepted from the aunt the yellow paper, but there was no need to read its simple statement, for the joyous face of Aunt Carrie gave out the good tidings. Still Peg read aloud: "Arrive to-morrow (Saturday), will go at once to you at Lake Hocomo. "Edward Ramsdell." "Joy! Joy!" Peg cried. "Really coming, oh, girls! Now I can have some fun helping you break camp! Isn't it splendid!" "That's a promise, remember, positively," insisted Julia, as they prepared to leave. "Bring Miss Ramsdell and Shag. Remember, we expect you pos--i--tive--ly." Then the door was locked from the outside, on the precious invention of Peg's departed father. CHAPTER XXI A SURPRISE INDEED The girls were deliciously excited. Uncovering the mystery of Peg's cabin lent no end of possibilities, not the least of which was the hope of having this girl of the hills unite with their own activities at last. "Will somebody kindly drape that sun dial and hold back on time a little?" asked Corene. "However are we going to cram things into a few meager hours this fateful day?" "When things crowd to the point of congestion," declared Julia, "they simply have to be omitted. I move to omit everything omittable." "And I tally the motion," chirped Grace. "It saves time to tally instead of adding to." "If you will all kindly line up for chow," suggested Louise. "I don't see any nor scent any, but some should be about. There goes the twelve o'clock boat." "Comes, you mean," corrected Isabel. "It's steaming into our dock." "Company, and on moving day!" exclaimed Julia, dancing around in shameless joy. "There comes the old Hawk soaring in, sure enough." A couple of toots and a few squawks from the smoke-stack of the Hawk (or thereabouts) and the steamer glided in majestically, unmindful of the coming bump. "Kids, Kidlets, and Kiddies!" exclaimed Cleo, as through the trees the dock could be seen fairly crawling with youngsters. Miss Mackin had joined the ranks of the spectators. "Looks like our fresh air camp," she gasped. "Allow me to do the honors," orated Isabel. "That motley throng reminds me of my last birthday party. They're all broke out in bundles." "Wait; they may not be coming here," interrupted Julia. "Why couldn't some other camp have company?" "Because it's our last day of surprises," Cleo said, springing to a tree stump for a better view of the dock. "That contingent is headed this way. Let's prepare." But surprise akin to astonishment was the only preparation noticeable. New gasps and exclamations were plentifully in evidence, and the omissions mentioned as within the rules of too full a day were now very definitely settled upon, for even the noon-day meal was falling in arrears. "Yep, here they come!" announced Julia solemnly. "And the leader! Can it be a delegation from some orphanage?" asked Helen. "It can and perhaps is," remarked Cleo. "They all carry the same shaped bundles. They're evidently not homemade." There could be no mistake now; the parade was marching up Comalong path. Miss Mackin patted her hair and the others made motions at their ear puffs. "If we only had some grub," whispered Julia. "There's the cakes of wheat if they haven't grown mossy," replied Cleo. "We'll get Corey to toast them." "Mossy!" repeated Isabel. "That box has whiskers. I looked at it this morning." "Are we right?" came a voice from the advance guard of the procession. "Is this Camp Comalong?" "Yes," replied Miss Mackin with a tempered smile. "Oh, I'm so glad. The boatman was not sure. And the children hoped this was the place; the trees looked so beautifully green." The speaker was leader of the influx; a prim, middle-aged woman whose sincerity of soul shown through two sparkling brown eyes. It was very obvious this leader loved her task. An awkward pause followed her remarks. Even Miss Mackin seemed at a loss for a suitable reply. "You got our message, didn't you?" asked the brown-eyed woman, suddenly. Her charges were breaking ranks at all points. "Why, no," stammered Mackey. "Was there a message?" "Oh, you didn't really! Then you were not expecting us?" Her voice wailed disappointment. All those eager little children and not expected! "Messages are uncertain in the camps," spoke Mackey promptly, getting herself in hand, as it were, and sensing catastrophe unless prompt measures intervened. "But you are welcomed, I'm sure. These are the members of Camp Comalong, the Bobolinks," with a wave toward her amazed constituents. "We will do all we can to show you around." Grace choked on a giggle. Show them around when they were probably famished for food! "I am so sorry," murmured the little woman. "You see we heard you were giving up camp and going to turn it over to the needy children. We had planned an excursion, and the beaches are so rough and crowded, we just ventured to take a trip up here. The sail was delightful and--of course we have brought our lunches." The sigh of relief that travelled the rounds of the Bobbies amounted to a secret moan of joy. They had brought their lunches! Instantly the girls fell to welcoming the excursionists, but the children so quickly melted into the scenery that only by the promptest of efforts were the Bobbies able to reclaim the merest fringe of the disorganized parade. How those children ran and stumbled and fell over friendly bushes! How they called and shouted! Could there really be hidden in the camp grounds all the treasures now being simultaneously announced? "Look-it! I've got a black-berry!" "I've got a chestnut!" (It was a last year's acorn.) "I--found--a--mush--a--room!" This last cry reached the ears of Corene, who quickly set after the mushroom hunters. There should be no sudden deaths from toad-stool poisoning at Camp Comalong. Cleo and Grace had captured a girl with her chubby little brother. On account of the brother and his chubbiness they were more easily overtaken than the others. Louise and Isabel were trying to keep a party of four from wading in the spring, while Julia was panic-stricken at the food famine outlook. Miss Mackin talked to the strange leader, who proved to be Miss Rachel Brooks, of the Beacon Mission Settlement. "I shouldn't have come upon you this way for the world," Miss Brooks insisted. "But I have been promising my children a picnic all summer, and they have to work so hard--those little girls. Vacation usually means harder work for such as they, for when school is dismissed the home work begins," she declared, with a show of indignation. "That's quite true," agreed Miss Mackin, "and I often think it is a pity that our child-labor laws do not include a continuous home survey. But again: what about the tired mothers these little daughters help?" "True, true; just a circle of trouble for them, no matter how we try to help. So when I heard that a troop of Girl Scouts were going to give up their camp for city children----" "How did you hear it?" "At a conference of case workers the other day. You know we meet twice weekly to discuss our problems, and to try to keep our families out of court. I managed to get clothes from the Emergency Committee, so that quite a few children who were promised this trip could come along. But they must eat their lunches now. They are surely famished," declared Miss Brooks. "Will it be all right for me to take them over to that little knoll, and let them open their boxes?" "We will be glad to fix our camp table for them," offered Miss Mackin with qualms of conscience, for were not the Bobbies also starving by now? "I wouldn't hear of taking your table; thank you just the same," replied the stranger. "Besides, you know how they feel about eating in the grass, like gypsies. They have been planning that particular joy for a long time. Sadie!" she called. "Stella! Margie!" She clapped her hands, we might say skillfully, for every clap echoed itself with a resonance peculiar to actual skilled practice. The girls called rounded up promptly. What a flock there was of them, and how they grazed like strange cattle in new found, verdant pastures! And it was remarkable how these youngsters clung to their lunch boxes, and gathered flowers or treasures at the same time. "You see," Miss Brooks went on, "we have a cooking class. It's a very small and humble attempt, but the children love it and we made most of our supplies for to-day's party. At the suggestion of these older girls, I think Stella really proposed it, we made an extra supply and brought a box to--the Girl Scouts, if they will accept it." Cleo and Grace were near enough to hear the offer, and that they concealed their joy was due as much to good luck as to good manners, for how dreadfully hungry they really were? What a big day this was growing to be! "Lovely," said Miss Mackin archly. "Are you sure you can spare all this?" The girls were offering box after box, and, like flies attracted to the sweeter things, the Bobbies were hemming in. "Yes'm," said black-eyed Stella slyly. "And Zenta Nogrow has a big box of nut cookies." "Nut cookies!" repeated Corene, unable to comprehend the sudden blessing. "How could you go to all that trouble?" "'Tweren't any trouble. A lady from up town brought the nuts. Edna, where is Zenta?" "I'll get her," offered Edna, a blonde with skin like a flower in spite of unfavorable environment. Miss Brooks was clapping her hands again, and the visitors were following "the big girls" over to the little knoll under the pine trees. Julia and Isabel were making the Scouts' table ready, while Louise and Corene went to introduce the spring, and to offer a good supply of extra drinking cups. Miss Mackin was urging Miss Brooks to take her lunch at the table under the trees. "You won't think me ungrateful," replied the visitor, "but you see, the children like to have me with them. They will fairly swamp me with questions about the woodland beauties. I would love to have you join us, however," she invited Miss Mackin. "Then _we_ would be without a leader," put in Cleo, swinging a free arm around Miss Mackin. "Exactly, I understand. How good it is to be beloved," said the serious little woman with the brown eyes, that sparkled latent possibilities. Healthy hunger was driving all the human animals to food now, and the "drive" included the Bobbies, as well as the children from the Beacon Settlement. Quickly boxes and little bundles were untied and unwrapped, and even at a distance the excursionists could be seen literally devouring the "basket lunch," only there were really no baskets. True, a little Italian girl carried her food in a handmade straw bag that might be called a basket, while a Russian displayed a quaint braided affair from the Homelands; but boxes and bags, American in make, were mostly in evidence. At the Scout table the overdue meal was being greatly relished. "How long are they going to stay?" ventured Grace. The question shot repeaters from all eyes around the festive board, for while the picnic interruption was all right as far as it went, it would never do to have those babes interfere with the evening's programme. That was to feature Peg's story in every last absorbing detail, and they were all eager to hear it. "Yes," repeated Cleo, looking straight at Miss Mackin. "How long are they going to stay?" "I don't know," replied Mackey, evasively. "Didn't they say, the leader I mean?" pressed Louise, losing a choice bit of cookie in her anxiety. "No, not a mention of it." "You don't suppose they expect to camp here to-night!" Corene almost gasped. "You see, it is known our camp is to be given over, and these clever little people have taken first chance. We have got to be good to them," insisted Miss Mackin slyly. Everyone stopped eating and sat up aggressively. "But our camp wouldn't hold a picnic, at any rate," spoke Grace pertly. "Oh, these children would be happy under the trees all day and satisfied to crawl under cover out of storms," Miss Mackin's eyes were dancing now and Cleo caught "their step." "You're a fraud, Mackey Mackin!" she declared, tossing a bit of cracker at the leader. "You are just trying to scare us out of our big night. Why, only the most urgent business has kept Peg away from us all this time, and as for us--we are compelled to wait," this last in tragic tones. "Just look over at those youngsters rolling down hill," interrupted Mackey. "If you'll excuse me, girls, I'll go over and be polite." "Take care you don't get caught in the avalanche. Just look at the tidal wave!" said Julia. "Rather keep your eyes on this table," ordered Corene. "Don't one of you dare bolt for the hill; not even if a couple of kiddies get caught in the thickets. I know you girls. Here Clee, carry these things to the kitchen. At least we must leave camp in good order." "And the time draweth near," moaned Louise. "We know now what things will look like when we are gon-n-n-ne!" "We will be gone for a long, long time!" intoned Julia, and the war time refrain was promptly executed--all of that! "Here they come! Mercy on us!" exclaimed Grace. "The children are descending from the hillsides!" She grabbed up the food fragments from the table and hurried to hide them in their tin boxes. "We must tell them how we enjoyed their cakes," said Corene. "They are after a report, I'm sure." "We can't tell them!" gasped Cleo, "for their settlement-made cookies simply saved our lives." She moaned and groaned at the thought of the perilous escape. "They were good!" declared Louise, raising her voice as the strangers came shyly along the little summer-worn path. "Come and give them a wade," proposed Julia. "Wade!" almost shrieked Grace. "They would strike right out for the West shore. As you value their precious lives don't mention it again, Jule." And she didn't. But there were other joys, many of them for the little party of settlement children. They explored the woods, wondered at the big lake (Miss Brooks would not allow one to enter a boat), then there was a final treat of a good time on the merry-go-round at the Point, and finally the Hawk tooted its whistle for them to go back to the railroad station. It was not easy to gather them together for the embarkation, but Miss Brooks was so grateful and happy; every Bobolink felt it her special duty to help the children get aboard the old-fashioned steamer. And it must be admitted there was a secret motive in the alacrity so evident, for the unexpected picnic had somewhat spoiled the afternoon's plans for the Girl Scouts. "Let's go around by the big log cabin and tell Peg all about it," suggested Isabel. "Then we won't have to spoil our plans for to-night with the picnic interruption." "That's a good idea!" chortled Grace. "Come right along and talk it out, every word of it. We did enjoy the youngsters, but oh, boy! for that final big story!" CHAPTER XXII PEG OF TAMARACK HILLS The evening was cool and daylight lingered. True to her promise, Peg with Aunt Carrie came again to visit Camp Comalong. "I have the fire all ready to start," announced Julia, "but it is too early yet. Girls, do you realize I have been official fireman all summer?" "But you wouldn't allow us to interfere, wanted to be fireman, engineer and all that," said Cleo. "Yes, you claimed we would waste matches," chimed in Corene. "Do you notice we are all in uniform to-night?" said Louise. "Peg, yours is almost like ours." "Yes, I have worn a Scout uniform, since--Girls," she said suddenly. "I never told you, but I am a Scout myself!" "You are?" in chorus. "Yes. I joined in Pittsburg. But when I found myself sort of buried in this mineral work it would be useless for me to talk or even think of Scouting. That was why I didn't mention it." "And I wanted the child, so much, to go in for all your lovely times," murmured Miss Ramsdell. "But there was no use. She would stick to her work." "And just think, after all, I never found the clue I searched for!" Peg's face now looked more boyish than ever, for it took on that seriously determined look usually foreign to the feminine. "What was it?" asked Louise. "Wait, I'll get my box and show you," offered Peg; and Cleo went to the "safe" with her to get out the square japanned box. They returned to the council almost immediately. Then Peg took from the box a number of stones. "See," she said to her audience, "you asked me what zinc looked like. Here are some pieces." The Scouts examined the specimens and passed them from one to another. "And are they found around here?" asked Miss Mackin. "Yes; dad found some and I found others. That is what I have been searching for with my little hand-drill. Don't you remember you saw me on the big rock the day of your picnic?" asked Peg. "Yes, we thought you were digging gold," joked Corene. "But I suppose zinc is quite as valuable." "Indeed, it is, if we could only find the lost vein," went on Peg. "The men you have seen prowling around here are hired by Mr. Fairbanks. But if they had discovered the ore on daddy's claim I should have fought them for it," declared the plucky girl, emphatically. She was taking out from the box stone after stone. "See this," she said, holding up a flat, gray piece. "This is the clue. See those marks?" Instantly the same thought flashed through the minds of the Scouts. The Star Clue! "We found pieces like that!" gasped Cleo. "You--found them!" "Yes, up by the big rock!" Every word spoken now seemed electrically charged. It was Grace who said this. "Wait! Wait!" begged Corene. "I'll get ours," and she dashed into the tent to drag from the "safe" the Scout's own treasures. Then she laid the granite pieces on Peg's lap. "Oh!" almost screamed the girl. "Do you know what this means! Auntie, they have found the lost star!" Everyone was talking now, and no one seemed to say anything intelligible; exclamations and sudden bursts of half formed sentences fairly puncturing the calm evening atmosphere. Peg was almost overcome, but being a real girl she was not given to such heroics. "It all formed the cutest little star," exclaimed Julia, finally. "We marked the spot so we can't possibly lose it. We will take you right to it to-morrow morning," she offered sincerely. "I don't know how I shall wait, but I'll have to, of course," said Peg. "You see, daddy put that star there the very day he was taken ill, and no matter how he tried to direct me I never could locate it." "But your dear father could hardly tell you anything, darling," said Miss Ramsdell. "He was not with us long after that." "However did you come to discover it?" asked Peg, who was piecing together the magic stones that formed the star. "We were following the danger--dynamite signs," said Cleo. "Have you seen them?" "Oh, yes, indeed," replied the visitor. "They were put there by the Fairbanks men to frighten me off. At first I did steer clear of them, but after kicking a few over and then watching the men plant them, I saw they were perfectly harmless," declared Peg. "We did that too, kicked them over, I mean," said Julia. "And did they do that just to frighten you?" "That and much more. But was there a sign near the star?" "No; quite some distance from it," replied Corene, "and it was just buried in a little soft pocket." "That's just what dad said!" exclaimed Peg. "Don't you know, auntie? He kept saying 'by Big Nose in a little green pocket.'" "Yes? Strange that we should happen to use the same expression," put in Julia. "And what does it all mean?" pressed the fascinated Isabel. "It means that below that mark there is a vein of zinc. It runs from the rock, and dad was ready to bore for it just there," declared Peg. The sunset was pouring out its glory and the streams of color cut through the trees to beautify the little council group of Girl Scouts. Aunt Carrie told them of the perseverance of her niece, who had devoted all her girlish energy to fulfilling her father's cherished plans. "You see, we came up here to follow out my brother's ideas," said the little lady. Julia was now slipping away to light her campfire. "We have traveled a great deal, and followed many trails, but this one discovered in Tamarack Hills offered the biggest prize." "And just when everything was brightest, daddy had to go," put in Peg. "I am sure no one could blame me for seeming queer when I was duty bound to take up his unfinished work." "Only the thoughtless could ever have questioned your purpose," said Miss Mackin. "You see how eager our girls were to get acquainted with you." "Yes--_your_ girls," emphasized Peg. "Those other two fright-freaks were simply jealous," declared Grace warmly. "They must have been furious that a girl like you could get the best of their big upholstered father." Everyone laughed at this description. Mr. Fairbanks really was sort of tufted and overstuffed. "But I simply cannot believe you have found that vein mark that I have searched months for," repeated Peg. "I don't see how I shall ever wait to go up there. And to think Uncle Edward will be here to-morrow." "And that you will both stay with us again to-night!" broke in Julia. "You really couldn't separate those stone pieces, you know," said Cleo. "You will need all those queer markings to follow out your clue with." "Yes, I could show those selfsame marks on a drawing that stone was marked from. The lines are eaten in with acid," explained the visitor seriously. "We thought they were made by acid; that is, Mackey did; don't you remember, girls?" asked Louise. The campfire blazed merrily now and the insistence that Peg and her aunt remain overnight finally was agreed to. "Put the treasures away," suggested Cleo, "and let us sing 'Scouts Every One.' We are going to have such a glorious evening!" "And yet," said Miss Ramsdell, "my niece tells me you are giving up camp?" "Yes, we felt it was so much needed by some city children," replied Corene, "and we really have had a lovely summer. You see, we all have cottages up here, and can stay till the last boat makes the last trip of the season." "Oh, no, we can't," corrected Isabel. "We all have to be back September fifteenth in dear old Essveay, you know." "Right, Izzy," said Corene. "I was just trying to fool myself. Here's Clee, all ready for her song. Get your uke, Louise." Stars flickered and breezes hummed in with the girls' song; for what in life is half so sweet as the joy of a peaceful campfire? And the very next day the star pieces were traced in their mysterious markings, the maps and outlines were matched up and the great zinc vein was finally uncovered by trustworthy hands. All they hoped for was finally fully realized, and Peg's labors were not in vain. Leave our little friends here, content and happy until we meet them again in the next volume of this series, to be called "The Girl Scouts at Rocky Ledge." THE END THE GIRL SCOUT SERIES By LILIAN GARIS Cloth. 12mo. Frontispiece. THE GIRL SCOUT PIONEERS, Or, Winning the First B. C. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT BELLAIRE, Or, Maid Mary's Awakening THE GIRL SCOUTS AT SEA CREST, Or, The Wig Wag Rescue THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP COMALONG, Or, Peg of Tamarack Hills Other volumes in preparation. CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, NEW YORK THE GIRL SCOUT SERIES By LILIAN GARIS 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors Price per volume, 80 cents, postpaid The highest ideals of girlhood as advocated by the foremost organizations of America form the background for these stories and while unobtrusive there is a message in every volume. THE GIRL SCOUT PIONEERS or Winning the First B. C. A story of the True Tred Troop in a Pennsylvania town where they find unlimited opportunity for good scouting. Two runaway girls, who want to see the city, are reclaimed through troop influence. The story is correct in scout detail, and also furnishes an absorbing narrative. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT BELLAIRE or Maid Mary's Awakening The story of a timid little maid who is afraid to take part in other girls' activities, while working nobly alone for high ideals. How she was discovered by the Bellaire Troop and came into her own as "Maid Mary" makes a fascinating story. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT SEA CREST or The Wig Wag Rescue Luna Land, a little island by the sea, is wrapt in a mysterious seclusion, and Kitty Scuttle, a grotesque figure, succeeds in keeping all others at bay until the Girl Scouts come. This volume furnishes a worth while story. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP COMALONG or Peg of Tamarack Hills A story of the great outdoors in which the girls of Bobolink Troop spend their summer on the shores of Lake Hocomo. Their discovery of Peg, the mysterious rider of the blue roan "Whirlwind," and the clearing up of her remarkable adventures afford a wholesome and vigorous plot. Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York THE BETTY GORDON SERIES By ALICE B. EMERSON Author of the Famous "Ruth Fielding" Series 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors Price per volume, 80 cents, postpaid A new series of stories by Alice B. Emerson which are bound to make this writer more popular than ever with her host of girl readers. Everyone will want to know Betty Gordon and all will love her. BETTY GORDON AT BRAMBLE FARM or The Mystery of a Nobody At the age of twelve Betty is left an orphan in the care of her bachelor uncle, who sends her to live on a farm. Betty finds life at Bramble Farm exceedingly hard. BETTY GORDON IN WASHINGTON or Strange Adventures in a Great City In this volume Betty goes to the national capitol to find her uncle. She falls in with a number of strangers and has several unusual adventures. BETTY GORDON IN THE LAND OF OIL or The Farm That Was Worth a Fortune From Washington the scene is shifted to the great oil fields of our country. A splendid picture of the oil field operations of to-day. BETTY GORDON AT BOARDING SCHOOL or The Treasure of Indian Chasm An up-to-date tale of school life. Betty made many friends but a jealous girl tried to harm her. Seeking the treasure of Indian Chasm makes an exceedingly interesting incident. Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York About this book: Original publication data: Publisher: Cupples & Leon Company, New York Copyright: 1921, by Cupples & Leon Company 
38152	----	produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) [Illustration: "So you want me to come to your show, do you?" said Mr. Harriman.] _Girl Scouts Series, Volume 2_ THE GIRL SCOUTS RALLY or ROSANNA WINS BY Katherine Keene Galt THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY CHICAGO--AKRON, OHIO--NEW YORK MADE IN U. S. A. Copyright, 1921, by THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY THE GIRL SCOUTS SERIES 1 THE GIRL SCOUTS AT HOME 2 THE GIRL SCOUTS RALLY 3 THE GIRL SCOUT'S TRIUMPH THE GIRL SCOUTS RALLY CHAPTER I Three little girls sat in a row on the top step of a beautiful home in Louisville. At the right was a dark-haired, fairylike child on whose docked hair a velvet berét, or French officer's cap, sat jauntily. Her dark eyes were round and thoughtful as she gazed into space. There was a little wrinkle between her curved black brows. Beside her, busily knitting on a long red scarf, sat a sparkling little girl whose hazel eyes danced under a fringe of blond curls. Her dainty motions and her pretty way of tossing back her beautiful hair caused people to stop and look at her as they passed, but Elise was all unconscious of their admiration. Indeed, she was almost too shy, and few knew how full of fun and laughter she could be. The third girl wore a businesslike beaver hat over her blond docked hair, and her great eyes, blue and steady, were levelled across Elise, who knitted on in silence, to the dark girl in the velvet cap. Helen Culver spoke at last. "Well, Rosanna, what are you thinking? Have you any plan at all?" The dark child spoke. "No, Helen, I can't think of a thing. It makes me _so_ provoked!" "Tell me, will you not?" asked Elise in her pretty broken English. She was trying so hard to speak like Rosanna and Helen that she could scarcely be prevailed upon to say anything in French. Many months had passed since Elise, in the care of the kind ladies of the American Red Cross, had come over from France to her adopted guardian, young Mr. Horton. She had grown to be quite American during that time, and was very proud of her attainments. The dark and dreadful past was indeed far behind, and while she sometimes wept for her dear grandmother, who had died in Mr. Horton's tender arms in the old château at home, she loved her foster mother, Mrs. Hargrave, with all her heart. And with Elise laughing and dancing through it, the great old Hargrave house was changed indeed. While Elise was crossing the ocean, Mrs. Hargrave had fitted up three rooms for her. There was a sitting-room, that was like the sunny outdoors, with its dainty flowered chintzes, its ivory wicker furniture, its plants and canaries singing in wicker cages. Then there was a bedroom that simply put you to sleep just to look at it: all blue and silver, like a summer evening. Nothing sang here, but there was a big music box, old as Mrs. Hargrave herself, that tinkled Elise to sleep if she so wished. And the bathroom was papered so that you didn't look at uninteresting tiles set like blocks when you splashed around in the tub. No; there seemed to be miles and miles of sunny sea-beach with little shells lying on the wet sand and sea gulls swinging overhead. Mrs. Hargrave was so delighted with all this when it was finished that it made her discontented with her own sitting-room with its dim old hangings and walnut furniture. "No wonder I was beginning to grow old," she said to her life-long friend, Mrs. Horton. "No wonder at all! All this dismal old stuff is going up in the attic. I shall bring down my great great-grandmother's mahogany and have all my wicker furniture cushioned with parrots and roses." "It sounds dreadful," said Mrs. Horton. "It won't be," retorted her friend. "It will be perfectly lovely. Did you know that I can play the piano? I can, and well. I had forgotten it. I am going to have birds too--not canaries, but four cunning little green love-birds. They are going to have all that bay window for themselves. And I shall have a quarter grand piano put right there." "I do think you are foolish," said Mrs. Horton, who was a cautious person. "What if this child turns out to be a failure? All you have is my son's word for it, and what does a boy twenty-four years old know about little girls? You ought to wait and see what sort of a child she is." "I have faith, my dear," said her friend. "I have been so lonely for so many long years that I feel sure that at last the good Lord is going to send me a real little daughter." "Cross-eyed perhaps and with a frightful disposition," said Mrs. Horton. "All children look like angels to Robert." Mrs. Hargrave was plucky. "Very well, then; I can afford to have her eyes straightened, and I will see what I can do about the temper." "I won't tease you any more," said Mrs. Horton. "Robert says the child is charming and good as gold. I know you will be happy with her, and if you find that she is too much of a care for you, you can simply throw her right back on Robert's hands. I don't like to have him feel that he has no responsibility in the matter." Elise proved to be all that Mrs. Hargrave had dreamed, and more. She sang like a bird and Mrs. Hargrave found her old skill returning as she played accompaniments or taught Elise to play on the pretty piano. And the little girl, who was perfectly happy, repaid her over and over in love and a thousand sweet and pretty attentions. Dear Mrs. Hargrave, who had been so lonely that she had not cared particularly whether she lived or died, found herself wishing for many years of life. The three little girls, Elise, Rosanna, of whom you have perhaps read, and her friend Helen Culver were great friends. They went to school and studied and played together, and Rosanna and Helen were both Girl Scouts. Elise was to join too, as soon as she could qualify. At present, as Uncle Robert said slangily, she was "stuck on pie." She could not make a crust that could be cut or even _sawed_ apart although she tried to do so with all the earnestness in the world. Perhaps you girls who are reading this remember Rosanna. If so, you will be glad to know that she grew well and strong again after her accident and continued to be a very happy little girl who was devoted to her grandmother, who in turn was devoted to Rosanna. The beautiful hair that Rosanna had cut off was allowed to stay docked, and that was a great relief to Rosanna, who was always worried by the weight of the long curls that hung over her shoulders like a dark glistening cape. It seemed _such_ fun to be able to shake her head like a pony and send the short, thick mane flying now that it was cut off. There were three people in Rosanna's home: her stately grandmother Mrs. Horton, Uncle Robert, of whom you have heard, and Rosanna herself. Rosanna had had a maid, of whom she was very fond, but Minnie was at home preparing to marry the young man to whom she had been engaged all through the war. He was at home again, and together they were fitting out a cunning little bungalow in the Highlands. As soon as everything was arranged quite to their satisfaction, they were going to be married, and Minnie vowed that she could never get married unless she could have a real wedding with bridesmaids and all, and she had a scheme! By the way she rolled her eyes and her young man chuckled, it seemed as though it must be a very wonderful scheme indeed, but although all three girls hung around her neck and teased, not another word would she say. Minnie had two little sisters who were about the ages of Rosanna and Elise and Helen, but they did not know what the scheme was either. It was _very_ trying. Helen Culver no longer lived over Mrs. Horton's garage and her father no longer drove the Horton cars, but her home was very near in a dear little apartment as sweet and clean and dainty as it could be. Mr. Culver and Uncle Robert were often together and did a good deal of figuring and drawing but other than guessing that it was something to do with Uncle Robert's business, the children did not trouble their heads. Helen was ahead of Rosanna in school. She had had a better chance to start with, as Rosanna had only had private teachers and so had had no reason to strive to forge ahead. There had been no one to get ahead _of_! Now, however, she was studying to such good purpose that she hoped soon to overtake Helen. But it was a hard task, because Helen was a very bright little girl who could and would and _did_ put her best effort in everything she did. These, then, were the three little girls who sat on Rosanna's doorstep and smelled the burning leaves and enjoyed the beautiful fall day. "Rosanna is so good at making plans," said Helen, smiling over at her friend. "What shall your good plan be for?" asked Elise. "Don't you remember, Elise, our telling you about the picnic we had once, and the children who took supper with us?" "Oh, _oui_--yess, yess!" said Elise, correcting herself hastily. "And we told you how we took them home and saw poor Gwenny, their sister, who is so lame that she cannot walk at all, and is so good and patient about it? We mean to take you over to see her, now that you can speak English so nicely. She wants to see you so much." "I would be charm to go," declared Elise, nodding her curly head. "Well," continued Rosanna, "Gwenny's mother says that Gwenny could be cured, but that it would cost more than she could ever pay, and it is nothing that she could get done at the free dispensaries. Those are places where very, very poor people can go and get good doctors and nurses and advice without paying anything at all, but Gwenny could not go there. "She would have to go to a big hospital in Cincinnati and stay for a long while. I thought about asking my grandmother if she would like to send Gwenny there, but just as I was going to speak of it last night, she commenced to talk to Uncle Robert about money, and I heard her tell him that she was never so hard up in her life, and what with the Liberty Loan drives taking all her surplus out of the banks, and the high rate of taxes, she didn't know what she was going to do. So I couldn't say a thing." "The same with ma maman," said Elise. "She calls those same taxes robbers. So you make the plan?" "That's just it: I _don't_," said Rosanna ruefully. "I wish I could think up some way to earn money, a lot of it ourselves." "Let's do it!" said Helen in her brisk, decided way. "But _how_?" questioned Rosanna. "It will take such a lot of money, Helen. Hundreds and hundreds of dollars, maybe _thousands_." "I should think the thing to do would be to ask a doctor exactly how much it would cost, first of all," said the practical Helen. "Another thing," said Rosanna, "Gwenny's family is very proud. They don't like to feel that people are taking care of them. The Associated Charities gave Gwenny a chair once, so she could wheel herself around, but it made them feel badly, although Gwenny's mother said she knew that it was the right thing to accept it." "She will feel that it is the thing to do if we can pay to have Gwenny cured too," said Helen. "You know how sensible she is, Rosanna. She must realize that everybody knows that she does all she can in this world for her family. I heard mother say she never saw any woman work so hard to keep a home for her children. "Mother says she never rests. And she is not trained, you know, to do special work like typewriting, or anything that is well paid, so she has to be a practical nurse and things like that." "Aren't all nurses practical?" asked Rosanna, a frown of perplexity on her brow. "Trained nurses are not," replied Helen. "Trained nurses get thirty and forty dollars a week and a practical nurse gets seven or eight, and works harder. But you see she never had a chance to get trained. It takes a long time, like going to school and graduating, only you go to the hospital instead." "I know," said Rosanna. "There were what they called undergraduate nurses at the Norton Infirmary and they wore a different uniform. But they were all pretty, and so good to me." "Well, you can't do much on what Gwenny's mother makes," said Helen. Elise sighed. "It is so sad," she declared. "Do the robber Taxes attack her also?" "No; she has nothing to attack," laughed Helen. "Is Mees Gwenny a Girl Scout?" asked Elise. "No, but her sister Mary is. She went in about the time Rosanna joined, but she does not belong to our group. They live in another part of the city." "Will my allowance help?" asked Elise. "I will give it so gladly. Ma maman is so good, so generous! I never can spend the half. I save it to help a little French child, but surely if Mees Gwenny is your dear friend and she suffers----" "She suffers all right," declared Helen. "Oh, Rosanna, we have _got_ to think up some way to help her! I am going to ask mother." "Helen, do you remember what our Captain said at the very last meeting? No, you were not there; I remember now. She said that we must learn to act for ourselves and not forever be asking help from our families. She said that we should always consult them before we made any important move, but she wanted us to learn to use our own brains. Now it does look to me as though this was a time to use all the brains we have. Think how wonderful it would be if we could only do this ourselves!" "What do you mean by _we_? Just us three, or the Girl Scouts in our group?" asked Helen. "I don't know," said Rosanna dismally. "I really haven't the first idea! Let's all think." CHAPTER II Three in a row, they sat and thought while the leaf piles smouldered and the afternoon went by. Plan after plan was offered and discussed and cast aside. At last Elise glanced at her little silver wrist watch, and wound up her scarf. "Time for maman to come home," she said. "She likes it when I meet her at the door with my love, and myself likes it too." "Of course you do, you dear!" said Helen. "Good-bye! We will keep on thinking and perhaps tomorrow we will be able to get hold of some plan that will be worth acting on. I must go too, Rosanna." "I will walk around the block with you," said Rosanna, rising and calling a gay good-bye after Elise. She went with Helen almost to the door of her apartment and then returned very slowly. How she did long to help Gwenny! There must be some way. Poor patient, uncomplaining Gwenny! Rosanna could not think of her at all without an ache in her heart. She was so thin and her young face had so many, _many_ lines of pain. She was so thoughtful at dinner time that her Uncle Robert teased her about it. He wanted to know if she had robbed a bank or had decided to run off and get married and so many silly things that his mother told him to leave Rosanna alone. Rosanna smiled and simply went on thinking. After dinner she slipped away and went up to her own sitting-room. Then Uncle Robert commenced to worry in earnest. He had his hat in his hand ready to go over and see Mr. Culver, but he put it down again and went up to Rosanna's room, three steps at a time. Rosanna called "Come," in answer to his knock in quite her usual tone of voice, and Uncle Robert heaved a sigh of relief. He stuck his head in the door, and said in a meek tone: "I thought I would come up to call on you, Princess. Mother is expecting a bridge party, and it is no place for me." "That is what I thought," said Rosanna. "Besides I wanted to think." "Well, I am known as a hard thinker myself," said Uncle Robert. "If you will invite the part of me that is out here in the hall to follow my head, I will be glad to help you if I can." "I don't see why I shouldn't tell you about things anyway," mused Rosanna. "You are not a parent, are you?" "No, ma'am, I am _not_," said Uncle Robert. "Nary a parent! Why?" He came in without a further invitation and sat down in Rosanna's biggest chair. At that it squeaked in an alarming manner, and Uncle Robert made remarks about furniture that wouldn't hold up a growing boy like himself. When he appeared to be all settled and comfortable, and Rosanna had shoved an ash tray over in a manner that Uncle Robert said made him feel like an old married man, he said, "Now fire ahead!" and Rosanna did. She told him all about Gwenny and her family--her mother and Mary and selfish Tommy, and good little Myron, and Luella and the heavy baby, and the story was so well told that Uncle Robert had hard work holding himself down. He felt as though the check book in his pocket was all full of prickers which were sticking into him, and in another pocket a bank book with a big, big deposit, put in it that very day, kept shouting, "Take care of Gwenny yourself!" so loudly that he was sure Rosanna must hear. But Uncle Robert knew that that was not the thing for him to do. He could not take all the beauty and generosity out of their effort when their dear little hearts were so eagerly trying to find a way to help. He hushed the bank book up as best he could and said to Rosanna, "I don't worry a minute about this thing, Rosanna. I know perfectly well that you will think up some wonderful plan that will bring you wads of money, and as long as I am _not_ a parent, I don't see why I can't be your councillor. There might be things that I could attend to. I could take the tickets at the door or something like that." "Tickets!" said Rosanna, quite horrified. "Why, Uncle Bob, we can't give a _show_!" "I don't see why not, if you know what you want to show," answered Uncle Robert. "You see benefit performances given all the time for singers and pianists and actors who want to retire with a good income. Some of them have one every year, but you couldn't do that for Gwenny. However I'll stand by whenever you want me, you may feel sure of that, and if I can advance anything in the way of a little money--" he tapped the bank book, which jumped with joy. "Oh, thank you!" said Rosanna. "We will be sure to tell you as soon as we can hit on a plan, and we will have you to go to for advice, and that will be such a help!" After Uncle Bob had taken himself off, Rosanna went slowly to bed. She thought while she was undressing and after she had put out the light and was waiting for her grandmother to come in and kiss her good-night. And the last thing before she dropped off to sleep her mind was whirling with all sorts of wild ideas, but not one seemed to be just what was wanted. One thing seemed to grow clearer and bigger and stronger, and that was the feeling that Gwenny must be helped. The first thing that she and Helen asked each other the next day when they met on the way to school was like a chorus. They both said, "Did you think of anything?" and neither one had. Sad to relate, neither Rosanna nor Helen made brilliant recitations that day, and coming home from school Helen said gravely, "What marks did you get today, Rosanna?" "Seventy," answered Rosanna with a flush. "I got seventy-two, and it was a review. Oh dear, this won't do at all! I was thinking about Gwenny, and trying to work up a plan so hard that I just couldn't study. Either we have positively got to think up something right away, or else we will have to make up our minds that we must do our thinking on Saturdays only. Can't you think of a single thing?" "I seem to have glimmers of an idea," said Rosanna, "but not very bright ones." "All I can think of is to get all the girls in our group to make fancy things and have a fair." "That is not bad," said Rosanna, "but would we make enough to count for much? Even if all the girls in our group should go to work and work every single night after school we would not be able to make enough fancy articles to make a whole sale." "I suppose not," sighed Helen. "This is Thursday. If we can't think of something between now and Saturday afternoon, let's tell the girls about it at the meeting and see what they suggest, and ask if they would like to help Gwenny. But oh, I wish we could be the ones to think up something! You see Gwenny sort of belongs to us, and I feel as though we ought to do the most of the work." That night at dinner there was a guest at Rosanna's house, young Doctor MacLaren, who had been in service with Uncle Robert. Rosanna quite lost her heart to him, he was so quiet and so gentle and smiled so sweetly at her grandmother. She sat still as a mouse all through the meal, listening and thinking. After dinner when they had all wandered into the lovely old library that smelled of books, she sat on the arm of her Uncle Robert's chair, and while her grandmother was showing some pictures to the doctor, she whispered to her uncle, "Don't you suppose the doctor could tell us how much it would cost to cure Gwenny?" "You tickle my ear!" he said, and bit Rosanna's. "Behave!" said Rosanna sternly. "Don't you suppose he could?" "I am sure he could, sweetness, but I sort o' think he would have to see Gwenny first. Shall we ask him about it?" "Oh, please let's!" begged Rosanna. "Th' deed is did!" said Uncle Robert, and as soon as he could break into the conversation, he said: "Rick, Rosanna and I want to consult you." Rosanna squeezed his hand for that; it was so much nicer than to put it all off on her. Doctor MacLaren laughed his nice, friendly laugh. "Well, if you are both in some scheme, I should say it was time for honest fellows like me to be careful. Let's hear what it is." "You tell, Rosanna," said Uncle Robert. "I can't talk and smoke all at the same time." So Rosanna, very brave because of Uncle Robert's strong arm around her, commenced at the beginning and told all about Gwenny and her family, and her bravery in bearing the burden of her lameness and ill health. And she went on to tell him about the Girl Scouts and all the good they do, and that she was sure that they would help, but they (she and Helen) hated to put it before the meeting unless they had some idea of the amount of money it would be necessary for them to earn. And another thing; what if they should start to get the money, and couldn't? What a _dreadful_ disappointment it would be for Gwenny and indeed all the family down to Baby Christopher! The two young men heard her out. Then Uncle Robert said: "I don't know the exact reason, but it seems that you cannot work with these Girl Scouts if you are a parent. Are you a parent, Rick?" "Please don't tease, Uncle Bobby," said Rosanna pleadingly. "It is only that we Scout girls are supposed to try to do things ourselves without expecting all sorts of help from our mothers and fathers--and grandmothers and uncles," she added rather pitifully. Robert patted her hand. Rosanna was an orphan. "I see now how it is," he said. "Tell us, Rick, what you think about this." "I think that Saturday morning, when there is no school, Rosanna might take me to call on Miss Gwenny and we will see about what the trouble is. And I think as she does, that it would be very wise to say nothing at all about this plan until we know something about the case. It would be cruel to get the child's hopes up for nothing. If there is anything that I dare do, I will promise you now that I will gladly do it, but I cannot tell until I see her." "Thank you ever and ever so much!" said Rosanna. "We won't tell anyone a thing about it!" "Can you drive over to Gwenny's tomorrow and tell her mother that a doctor friend of mine is coming to see her?" asked Uncle Robert. "Indeed I can if grandmother is willing!" said Rosanna. "Oh, I _do_ feel as though we will think up some way of earning the money!" Rosanna was so happy that she overslept next morning and was nearly late getting to school, so she did not see Helen until they were dismissed. They walked slowly home and sat down on their favorite place on the top step. They had been sitting quietly, watching a group of children playing in the leaves, when Rosanna jumped to her feet and commenced to dance up and down. "Oh, Helen, Helen," she cried. "I believe I have it! I believe I have it! Oh, I am _so_ excited!" "Well, do tell me!" exclaimed Helen. "That is just what I am going to do," said Rosanna, still dancing. "Let's go around in the garden and sit in the rose arbor where no one will disturb us." "That is the thing to do," agreed Helen, and together they went skipping through the iron gateway that led into the lovely old garden. Once upon a time that gate had been kept locked and little Rosanna had been almost a prisoner among the flowers and trees that made the garden so lovely. But now the gate swung on well-oiled hinges and all the little Girl Scouts were welcome to come and play with Rosanna in her playhouse or ride her fat little pony around the gravelled paths. The children banged the gate shut behind them and went to the most sheltered spot in the garden, the rose arbor, where they were hidden from view. They threw their school books on the rustic table and settled themselves in two big chairs. "Now _do go on_," said Helen with a little thrill in her voice. "Oh, I _do_ feel that you have thought up something splendid!" CHAPTER III "I have been thinking and thinking," said Rosanna, "and not an idea have I had until just now. Here is what I just thought up. "You know Uncle Bob was telling me about benefit performances that actors and musicians have. I think they get them up themselves mostly, when they want some money, but I was talking to Minnie about it yesterday when she came in for a minute and she says in her church they have benefits all the time. People sing and play and recite poetry, and it is lovely. And I thought up something better still. "What if you and I, Helen, could make up a sort of play all about the Girl Scouts and give it?" "Write it out of our heads?" said Helen, quite aghast. "Yes," said Rosanna. "It is easy. Before grandmother used to let me have little girls to play with, I used to make up plays, oh lots of times!" "With conversations?" pressed Helen. "Yes, made up of conversations and coming on the stage and going off again, and people dying, and everything." "Dear me!" said Helen with the air of one who never suspected such a thing of a friend. "_Dear me!_" she said again. "I am sure I could _never_ do it. You will have to do it yourself. What is it going to be about?" "Why, I have to have time to think," said Rosanna. "You have to think a long time when you are going to be an author. It is very difficult." "You don't suppose you are all out of practice, do you?" asked Helen anxiously. "Why, Rosanna, that would be too perfectly splendid! A real play! Where could we give it? We couldn't rent a real theatre." "Oh, my, no!" said Rosanna, beginning to be rather frightened at the picture Helen was conjuring up. "We won't have that sort of a play. We will have a little one that we can give in grandmother's parlor, or over at Mrs. Hargrave's." "I wouldn't," said Helen stoutly. "I just know you can write a beautiful play, Rosanna, and I think we ought to give it in some big place where a lot of people can come, and we will have tickets, and chairs all in rows and a curtain and everything." "Oh, I don't believe I could write a good enough play for all that," cried Rosanna. "Well, just do the best you can and I know it will be perfectly lovely." "I tell you what," said Rosanna, beginning to be sorry that she had spoken. "Please don't tell Elise or anyone about it until I see what I can write, and then after you and I have read it, if it is good enough, we will show it to Uncle Robert and see what he says." "It _will_ be good enough," said Helen positively. "Just think of the piece of poetry you wrote to read at the Girl Scout meeting. It was so lovely that I 'most cried. All that part about the new moon, and how you felt when you died. It sounded so true, and yet I don't see how you know how you are going to feel when you die. I can't feel it at all. I suppose that is because you are a poet. Mother says it is a great and beautiful thing to be a poet, but that you must look out for your digestion." "My digestion is all right so far," said Rosanna. "I am glad to know that, though, because if your mother says so, it must be so." "Of course!" said Helen proudly. "When will you begin your play, Rosanna?" "Right away after dinner," said Rosanna. "That is, if Uncle Robert goes out. If he stays at home I will have to play cribbage with him. If I go off to my own room, he comes right up. He says he is afraid that I will get to nursing a secret sorrow." "What is a secret sorrow?" asked Helen. "I don't know exactly," said Rosanna. "Uncle Robert looked sort of funny when I asked him, and perhaps he made it up because he just said, 'Why--er, why--er, a secret sorrow is--don't you know what it is, Rosanna?'" "Sometimes I wonder if your Uncle Robert really means all he says," said Helen suspiciously. "I wonder too," agreed Rosanna, nodding, "but he is a perfect dear, anyway, even if he is old. He is twenty-four, and grandmother is always saying that Robert is old enough to know better." "I know he will be all sorts of help about our play, anyway," said Helen. "I know he will too," said Rosanna. "We will show him the play the minute I finish it." Rosanna went right to work on her play whenever she had any time to spare. When Saturday morning came she went with Doctor MacLaren to see Gwenny, and after she had introduced him to Gwenny's mother she went and sat in the automobile with Mary and Luella and Myron and Baby Christopher to talk to. But she scarcely knew what she was saying because she was so busy wondering what the doctor would do to poor Gwenny, whose back nearly killed her if anyone so much as touched it. The doctor stayed a long, long time, and when he came out he stood and talked and talked with Gwenny's mother. He smiled his kind, grave smile at her very often, but when he turned away and came down the little walk Rosanna fancied that he looked graver than usual. "Is she _very_ bad?" Rosanna asked when the machine was started. "Pretty bad, Rosanna dear," said the doctor. "She will need a very serious operation that cannot be done here. She will have to go to a hospital in Cincinnati where there is a wonderful surgeon, Doctor Branshaw, who specializes in troubles of the spine. He will help her if anyone can. She is in a poor condition anyway, and we will have to look after her pretty sharply to get her in as good a shape physically as we can. If she goes, I will take her myself, and will have her given the best care she can have. What a dear, patient, sweet little girl she is." "Yes, she is!" agreed Rosanna absently. "Well, if she is as sick as you think, I don't see but what we will just _have_ to earn the money some way or other!" Rosanna was very silent all the way home, and that afternoon she retired to the rose arbor and worked as hard as ever she could on the play. It was really taking shape. Rosanna would not show the paper to Helen or to Elise, who had been told the great secret. She wanted to finish it and surprise them. By four o'clock she was so tired that she could write no longer. She put her tablet away and started to the telephone to call Helen. As she went down the hall the door bell rang. She could see a familiar figure dancing up and down outside the glass door. It was Elise, apparently in a great state of excitement. Rosanna ran and opened the door. Elise danced in. She caught Rosanna around the waist and whirled her round and round. "Behold I have arrive, I have arrive!" she sang. "Of course you have arrived!" said Rosanna. "What makes you feel like this about it?" "Behold!" said Elise again with a sweeping gesture toward the front door. Mrs. Hargrave's house-boy, grinning from ear to ear, was coming slowly up the steps bearing a large covered tray. Elise took it from him with the greatest care and set it carefully on a table. "Approach!" she commanded, and Rosanna, really curious, drew near the mysterious article. Slowly Elise drew off the cover. Under it in all the glory of a golden brown crust, little crinkles all about the edge, sat a pie looking not only good enough to eat, but almost _too_ good. "Peench off a tiny, tiny bit of ze frill," said Elise, pointing to the scallopy edge. "A very tiny peench, and you will see how good. Now I can be the Girl Scout because all the other things I can so well do." Rosanna took a careful pinch and found the crust light and very flaky and dry. "Perfectly delicious, Elise!" she pronounced it. "Did you do it all yourself?" "Of a certainty!" said Elise proudly. "I would not do the which otherwise than as it is so required by the Girl Scouts. And now I am most proud. If you will so kindly take me when you go to the meeting this afternoon, I will offer this to the most adorable little Captain as one more reason the why I should be allowed to join." "Of course I will take you," said Rosanna. "I was just going to telephone for Helen. If she is ready we will start at once." "I will go for my hat," said Elise. Then anxiously, "Will the beautiful pie rest here in safety?" "Yes, indeed; it will be perfectly safe," laughed Rosanna. Elise was the happiest little girl in all the room at the meeting. Everyone fell in love with her at once, her manners were so gentle and pretty and she was so full of life. Her curls danced and her eyes, and her red lips smiled, and it seemed as though her feet wanted to dance instead of going in a humdrum walk. The Scout Captain and the committee on pie decided that Elise had made the most delicious of its kind. At the close of the business part of the meeting, the Captain asked as usual if anyone had any news of interest to offer or any requests or questions to ask. It was all Rosanna could do to keep from telling them all about Gwenny and asking for advice and help, but she decided to keep it all to herself until she had finished the play. Then if it turned out to be any good (and it would be easy to tell that by showing it to Uncle Bob) she would take it to the Captain, and if she approved, Rosanna would bring the whole thing up before the next meeting. On the way home, Helen said to Rosanna, "How are you getting on with your play, Rosanna? Did you work on it this afternoon as you expected to?" "Yes, I did, and it seems to be coming along beautifully," said Rosanna. "I wanted to ask you about it. Don't you think it would be nice to put in a couple of songs about the Girl Scouts, and perhaps a dance?" "Simply splendid!" said Helen. "Oh, Rosanna, _do_ hurry! I can scarcely wait for you to finish it. Girl Scout songs and a Girl Scout dance! Do you know the Webster twins can dance beautifully? Their mother used to be a dancer on the stage before she married their father, and she has taught them the prettiest dances. They do them together. They are awfully poor, and I don't know if they could afford to get pretty dancing dresses to wear, but I should think we could manage somehow." "Oh, we will," said Rosanna. "I _do_ wish we could have our families help us!" "Think how surprised they will be if we do this all by ourselves except what Uncle Bob does, and our Scout Captain." "I don't see that Uncle Bob can do very much," rejoined Rosanna. "But he is real interested and wants to help." "We ought to let him do whatever he can," said Helen. "Father often tells mother that he hopes she notices how much she depends on his superior intellect, but she just laughs and says 'Nonsense! Helen, don't listen to that man at all!' But we must depend on our own superior intellects now." "It won't take me long to finish the play," said Rosanna. "It is only going to be a one-act play, and if it isn't long enough to make a whole entertainment, we will have to have some recitations and songs before and after it." "I do think you might let me see what you have written," coaxed Helen. "I would rather not," pleaded Rosanna. "Somehow I feel as though I couldn't finish it if I should show it to anyone before it is done. I will show it to you the very first one, Helen. Here is one thing you can hear." She took a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket, and while Helen walked very close beside her commenced: "This is a song sung by two sisters named Elsie and Allis. And you will see what it is all about." "Is there a tune for it too?" said Helen in great wonder. "No, I can't make up music," said Rosanna regretfully, "and, anyhow, I think it would come easier to use a tune everybody knows. This goes to the tune of _Reuben, Reuben, I've been Thinking_. You know that?" "Of course," said Helen. "Now let's hear the poetry." Rosanna had written: "Two girls come on the stage, one from the right and one from the left. One is dressed in beautiful clothes, and the other very neat and clean, but in awfully poor things. She has on a thin shawl. She is Elsie. The rich child is Allis. Allis sees Elsie, and sings: SONG Air, _Reuben, Reuben, I've Been Thinking_. _Allis._ Elsie, Elsie, I've been thinking What a pleasure it would be, If we had some friends or sisters Just to play with you and me. All our time we spend in study There is no place nice to go. After school an hour of practice Oh, I get to hate it so! _Chorus_ Just an hour or two of practice, One and two and three and four; Add, subtract, or find the tangent; Everything is just a bore! _Elsie._ Then, dear Allis, when we finish, We can go and take a walk; That, unless the day is rainy, Then we just sit down and talk. And there's not a thing to talk of, Not a scheme or plan to make, Not a deed of gentle loving, Nothing done for Someone's sake. _Chorus_ Not a thing for us to aim for-- Not a height for us to climb! Just the stupid task of living; Just the bore of passing time! _Enter Girl Scout with many Merit Badges on her sleeve._ _Girl Scout._ Did I hear you wish for friendships? Mates to join in work and play? Someone true and good and loving You would chum with every day? See this uniform? It tells you You can wear it; be a Scout! See the sleeve with all the "Merits"? You could win without a doubt. _Chorus_ _All--_ Oh, what fun we'll have together! Oh, what work and jolly play! Walks and talks and happy study With the Girl Scouts every day. CHAPTER IV When Rosanna finished, Helen gave a sigh of delight. "Rosanna," she said, "it is perfectly beautiful; perfectly _beautiful_! Shall you have the Webster girls sing that?" "I had not thought of them," confessed Rosanna. "I thought it would be nice for Elise and you, Helen. You both sing so sweetly and you can both dance too." "I shall be frightened to death," said Helen, trying to imagine herself on a real little stage; at least on a make-believe stage with a curtain stretched across Mrs. Horton's or Mrs. Hargrave's parlor. But frightened or not, she was more than pleased that Rosanna had thought of her, and she had no intention of giving up the part. She and Elise commenced to practice on the song, and between them made up the prettiest little dance. Mrs. Culver and Mrs. Hargrave were delighted to play their accompaniments and suggest steps. Of course they had to be told something of what was going on, but they were very nice and asked no questions. A week later Rosanna's little play was finished and ready to show Uncle Robert. Rosanna was as nervous as a real playwright when he has to read his lines to a scowly, faultfinding manager. She invited Helen over to spend the night with her so she could attend the meeting. Her grandmother was out to a dinner-bridge party, so Rosanna and Helen and Uncle Robert went up to Rosanna's sitting-room and prepared to read her play. And if the truth must be told, Uncle Robert prepared to be a little bored. But as Rosanna read on and on in her pleasant voice, stopping once in awhile to explain things, Uncle Robert's expression changed from a look of patient listening to one of amusement and then to admiration. By the time Rosanna had finished he was sitting leaning forward in his chair and listening with all his might. He clapped his hands. "Well done, Rosanna!" he said heartily. "I am certainly proud of you! Why, if you can do things of this sort at your age, Rosanna, we will have to give you a little help and instruction once in awhile. Well, well, that _is_ a play as _is_ a play! Don't you think so, Helen?" "It's just too beautiful!" said Helen with a sigh of rapture. "Just too beautiful! Which is my part, Rosanna?" "I thought you could be the little girl who discovers the lost paper so the other little Girl Scout's brother will not have to go to prison. That is, if you like that part." "It is the nicest part of all," sighed Helen. "What part are you going to take?" "I didn't think I would take any," said Rosanna. "Oh, you must be in it!" cried Helen. "No, Rosanna is right," declared Uncle Robert. "It is her play, you see, and she will have to be sitting out front at all the rehearsals to see that it is being done as she wants it." "That is what I thought," said Rosanna. "But you are going to help with everything, are you not, Uncle Robert?" "Surest thing in the world!" declared Uncle Robert heartily. "But as long as this is all about the Girl Scouts, won't you have to show it to your Girl Scout Captain, or leader, before you go on with it?" "Of course," said Rosanna. "Who is she?" asked Uncle Robert carelessly. "Why, you saw her, Uncle Robert," replied Rosanna. "Have you forgotten the dear sweet little lady who called when I was sick when we were looking for someone very fierce and large?" "Sure enough!" said Uncle Robert after some thought. If Rosanna had noticed she would have seen a very queer look in his eyes. He had liked the looks of that young lady himself. "Well, what are you going to do about it?" "I suppose I will have to go around to her house, and tell her all about it and read it to her." "Is it written so I can read it?" said Uncle Robert, glancing over the pages. "Very neat indeed. Now I will do something for you, if you want me to save you the bother. Just to be obliging, I will take your play and will go around and tell Miss Hooker that I am Rosanna's uncle, and read it to her myself." "Why, you know her name!" said Rosanna. "Um--yes," said Uncle Robert. "I must have heard it somewhere. For goodness' sake, Rosanna, this place is like an oven!" "You _are_ red," admitted Rosanna. "Well, I wish you would do that, please, because it makes me feel so queer to read it myself. It won't take you long so we will wait up for you to tell us what she thinks." "I wouldn't wait up," advised Uncle Robert, getting up. "If she likes me, it may take some time." "Likes _you_?" said Rosanna. "I mean likes the way I read it, and likes the play, and likes the idea, and likes everything about it," said Uncle Robert. He said good-bye and hurried off, bearing the precious paper. The girls sat and planned for awhile, when the doorbell rang. Rosanna could hear the distant tinkle, and saying "Perhaps he is back," ran into the hall to look over the banisters. She returned with a surprised look on her face. "What do you suppose?" she demanded of Helen who sat drawing a plan of a stage. "It is Uncle Robert, and Miss Hooker is with him. Oh, dear me, I feel so fussed!" "Come down!" called Uncle Robert, dashing in the door. "I have a surprise for you both." "No, you haven't! I looked over the banisters," said Rosanna, as the three went down the broad stairs. Miss Hooker thought the play was so good and she was so proud to think that one of her girls had written it that she was anxious to talk it over at once, and had asked Uncle Robert to bring her right around to see Rosanna and Helen. They all drew up around the big library table, and Uncle Robert sat next Miss Hooker where he could make suggestions. And Miss Hooker and the girls made a list of characters, and fitted them to different girls in their group. Finally Miss Hooker said there were several places that needed a little changing and would Rosanna trust her to do it with Mr. Horton's help? At this Uncle Robert looked most beseechingly at Rosanna, who, of course, said yes. "Where will we give it?" asked Helen. "As long as it is a benefit we want a place large enough for lots of people to come. All our families will want to come, and all the Girl Scouts' families, and perhaps some other people besides." "We will give it here, won't we, Uncle Robert? Grandmother will let us, I'm sure. In the big drawing-room, you know." "Not big enough," declared Uncle Robert, while both girls exclaimed. "Now this is the part I can help about and I have just had a great idea. You all know that big barn of Mrs. Hargrave's? We boys used to play there on rainy days when we were little. The whole top floor is one immense room. We can give our entertainment there. Mrs. Hargrave will give the barn, I know. And for my contribution or part of it, I will see that you have a stage and a curtain and all that." "How dear of you, Mr. Horton!" said Miss Hooker. "Oh, Uncle Robert, a curtain that goes up and down?" "Of course," said Uncle Robert, "and footlights and everything." "O-o-o-o-h!" sighed both girls, and Miss Hooker looked at Uncle Robert and smiled and he seemed real pleased. "I think I must go if you will be kind enough to take me home," said Miss Hooker. "Rosanna, you must tell the Girl Scouts about Gwenny at the next meeting, and read your play. Then we will get right to work, for the sooner this is staged, the better. We don't want to interfere with the Christmas work." After Mr. Horton had taken the tiny little lady home, the girls raced upstairs and went to bed, but it was a long, long time before they could get to sleep. They finally went off, however, and did not hear Uncle Robert when he came home whistling gaily. They dreamed, however, both of them, of acting before vast audiences that applauded all their speeches. And at last Rosanna woke up with a start to find that Helen was clapping her hands furiously and stamping her feet against the footboard. After Rosanna succeeded in awakening her, they had a good laugh before they went to sleep again. At breakfast Uncle Robert was full of plans for the Benefit. "Miss Hooker and I went all over your play last night, Rosanna," he said, "and smoothed out the rough places. You know every manuscript has to be corrected. It is on the table in my room. You had better read it over after school, and if it suits your highness I will have it typewritten for you, and you can go ahead. I am going to see about the barn now, on my way down town, and if Mrs. Hargrave is willing--and I am sure she will be--I will get a carpenter to measure for the staging. I suppose," he added, "I ought to ask Miss Hooker to look at the place and get some suggestions from her?" "Oh, I wouldn't bother to wait for her," said Rosanna, who was wild to see the stage built. "She won't care what you do. If you like, I will tell her how busy you are and that you won't bother to come around to her house any more because you can attend to things just as well yourself." Uncle Robert looked hard at Rosanna. It was a queer look; sort of the look you would expect from a cannibal uncle who has a little niece that he wants to eat. Rosanna, catching the look, was surprised and quite disturbed. But when Uncle Robert spoke, he merely said, "Thank you, Rosanna; but you see I _do_ need Miss Hooker's advice very much indeed. The fact is I will never be able to put this thing through as well as I want to put it through unless I can consult with her every day or so. In fact, if I cannot consult as often as I need to, I will certainly have to give it up. And that would be awful, wouldn't it?" "Of course it would, Uncle Robert," answered Rosanna. "I just hated to have you bothered." "I will stagger along under the burden," said Uncle Robert, trying to look like a martyr. "The thing for you to do is to forget how hard I am working and how much help I have to have doing this, and get your girls to studying on their parts." "Miss Hooker says I am to read it at the Scout meeting next week and then we will give out the parts and let them be learning them." "All right, sweetness; get after them," said Uncle Robert, kissing Rosanna, and Helen, too, "for luck" he said, and going off whistling. "I think the play is making Uncle Robert very happy," said Rosanna as the front door slammed and she heard a merry whistle outside. "He is a changed person these last few days." "That is what often happens," said Helen. "Probably he did not have anything to occupy his mind after business hours, so he was unhappy. Mother says it is a serious condition to allow oneself to be in. Now that he has our play to think about, he feels altogether different. I do myself. Do you know it is time to start for school? Let's be off so we won't have to hurry, and we will have time to stop for Elise." Elise was ready and the three girls sauntered down the street together. As they passed a great imposing stone house, Elise said, "It is a château--what you call castle, isn't it?" "Yes," said Rosanna, "and a cross old ogre lives in it. He and his sister live there all alone, with lots of maids and men to serve them, and he is so growly-wowly that Minnie says even the grocer boys are afraid of him. That is his car in front of the door. Did you ever see anything so large?" "Or so lovely?" added Elise. "If he was not so ze what you just call growlee-wowlee, he might carry us to school; not?" "There he comes," said Rosanna. "Does he look as though he would carry any little girls _any_where unless he carried them off to eat?" The great carved door opened and an old gentleman came down the steps. He walked with a cane and to the children he seemed very old indeed with his snow white hair and fierce moustaches. He scowled as he came and stopped to switch with his cane at a vine that had straggled up the step. He noticed the three girls approaching, and scowled at them so fiercely that they involuntarily stopped to let him pass. But he was in no hurry to do so. When he had looked them over sufficiently, he looked past them and snorted loudly at something he saw up the street, but when the girls looked around to see what was the matter, there was only a little baby girl playing with a little woolly dog; so they all looked back again at the old gentleman. He seemed to fascinate them. Three pair of round eyes fixed on him caught the old gentleman's attention. "Well, well, well!" he said testily. "What do you see? Come, come, speak out!" Elise drew back but the other two stood their ground, and Rosanna, who had seen him all her life and was at least accustomed to him, said gently: "We see _you_, sir." "Ha hum!" sputtered the old gentleman, drawing his fierce white eyebrows together. "What about me, young woman, what about me to stare at?" Rosanna was distressed. There seemed nothing to do but tell him the truth and that was almost too awful. She smoothed it down as well as she could. "If you will excuse me for saying so, you looked a little cross," she said, "and--and something must be making you very unhappy." "It is," said the ogre. "It makes me unhappy to see what a silly no-account world this is; full of small children, and woolly dogs, and things. Kittens! Babies! Chickens! Bah! All making noises! All getting up at daybreak to play and meow and crow. Bah! Of course I am unhappy!" He crossed the walk, waved the footman back with his cane, stepped painfully into the car, and with his own hand slammed the door shut. But his anger blinded him. He did not take his hand away soon enough, and the heavy door caught it. With a cry of pain, he dropped back on the cushions. The middle finger was crushed and bleeding profusely. "Heaven protect us!" cried Elise. The old gentleman was almost fainting. Rosanna did not hesitate. The Girl Scouts had to understand First Aid. She ran up to the car and entered it, tearing up her handkerchief as she did so. Helen, close behind her, was doing the same thing with hers. CHAPTER V Gently but firmly taking the bleeding finger in her little hand, Rosanna bound it up in the strips of linen, folding them back and forth in quite a professional manner. Helen helped her to tie the bandages. Not until they had finished did they take time to glance up at the old gentleman. He was deathly white and leaned heavily against the cushions. "Now, sir," said Rosanna, "if you will have your man drive you to a doctor, he will treat it with an antiseptic and it will soon be all right." The old gentleman commenced to brace up as he saw that the bleeding at least was checked. The girls got out of the car, and the old gentleman with a muttered, "Thank you, thank you," gave an order and the chauffeur drove rapidly away. "He said _thank you_ once for each of us anyway," said Helen. Elise shuddered. "Your dress!" she said, pointing to Rosanna. Sure enough, Rosanna was spattered with blood. "Oh, dear, I will have to be late," she said. "Just look at me! I will have to go back and put on a clean dress." She turned reluctantly and ran back home, while the others went on to school and the automobile carried the old gentleman rapidly to the office of his doctor. While the physician was attending to the hand, the old gentleman, whose name was Harriman, sat and sputtered: "First time I ever saw any children with a grain of common sense!" he declared. "Little girl acted in a fairly intelligent manner. Suppose it wouldn't happen again. Children never know anything, especially girls. Bah!" "Oh, yes, they do, Mr. Harriman," said Doctor Greene soothingly. "Oh, yes, they do! Now I have two little girls of my own, and I can tell you--" "Don't!" said Mr. Harriman. "I make it a point never to listen to fond parents. I am sure the two girls who fixed me up were unusual--very unusual." "Yes, they were," said the doctor. "You will have an easier time with this hand of yours, thanks to their skill." "Queer!" said Mr. Harriman. "Seemed to know just what to do." "Must have been Girl Scouts," said the doctor musingly. "Girl Scouts? What foolishness is that?" said Mr. Harriman. The doctor smiled. He thought of his own two daughters. "Ask them about it," he said, rising, and would say no more. Mr. Harriman limped out. "What are Girl Scouts?" Mr. Harriman asked his chauffeur as they drove to his office. "I dunno, sah," said the colored man, starting. He always jumped when Mr. Harriman spoke. Everyone wanted to. "Idiot!" said Mr. Harriman. "Yes, sah," said the chauffeur cheerfully. There seemed nothing else to say. Mr. Harriman's hand healed very quickly for so old a man, and the doctor stubbornly gave all the credit to Rosanna's first-aid treatment. Mr. Harriman could say "Stuff and nonsense!" as many times as he liked, but it made no difference to the doctor, who smiled and refused to discuss the matter. Mr. Harriman commenced to have a troublesome conscience. He felt as though he should call and thank the little girl who had befriended him to such good purpose, especially as he had known Rosanna's grandmother all her life, but he could not bring himself to do it and contented himself with sending two immense wax dolls and a huge box of candy to Rosanna's house addressed to "The two girls who recently bound up my hand." Rosanna and Helen were quite embarrassed, but Mrs. Horton, who was immensely amused, told them that all that was necessary was a note of thanks, which they wrote and sent off in a great hurry. They didn't want to keep Mr. Harriman waiting. No one did. But he couldn't find out anything about the Girl Scouts because the only persons he asked were the very persons who would never know anything much about anything that had to do with girls or good times or youth or happiness. He asked his old friends at the club, when he felt like talking at all, and so the time went on. In the meantime, at a Scout meeting Rosanna found herself telling the girls all about Gwenny and the play and the plans for sending the poor little cripple to Cincinnati for the operation which might make her well. It was only _might_. Doctor MacLaren and the other doctors whom he had taken to see Gwenny would only say that it could be _tried_. And the great surgeon, Dr. Branshaw, had written Dr. MacLaren that as soon as the child was in a fit condition she could be brought to him and he would do what he could. He said nothing about the cost, Rosanna noticed, when she read his letter, so she could not tell the girls what the operation would cost. They were all as interested as they could be and promised to work as hard as they could selling tickets, and the ones who were chosen to take parts in the play were very happy about it. As a matter of fact, all of them were to come on the stage, for those who had no speaking parts came on and marched and so had a share in the glory. And the way they learned their parts! They almost mastered them over night. Rehearsals went on, and the day was set for the entertainment. There was a great deal of hammering up in Mrs. Hargrave's barn. Mrs. Hargrave and Miss Hooker and Uncle Robert spent a good deal of time up there, but they would not let anyone else in. Even Elise was barred out, and although she wrung her little hands and talked a funny mixture of French and English in her pretty coaxing way, not one of the three would relent and let her peek in. "Wait until it comes time for the dress rehearsals," was all they would say. A week before the play, a big box came for Uncle Robert. He opened it in Rosanna's room. It was full of tickets nicely printed on yellow pasteboard. Rosanna read them with rapture: the name of the play, _her_ play, and at the top in large print, BENEFIT PERFORMANCE "You have not said anything about what the performance is to be a benefit _for_." said Rosanna. "That's all right," said her uncle. "And you have forgotten to say the price of the tickets," wailed Helen, who was again spending the night. "Well," said Mr. Horton, "when I went to order those tickets for you, I had an idea. And it was this. I thought as long as this was a benefit performance, why not let it benefit everybody present?" "How can it do that?" asked Rosanna. "In this way," said Uncle Robert. "There will be all sorts of people there, because some of the Girl Scouts, Miss Hooker says, are very poor indeed, and some of them belong to families who have plenty of money. So Miss Hooker suggested a very good scheme. Tell the girls when they sell tickets to say that as it is a benefit and so forth and so forth, that the tickets are simply to let the people into the hall. As they go out they are to pay whatever they think it is worth, from five cents up." "Perfectly splendid!" said Helen, catching the idea at once. "I don't know," answered Rosanna. "They will have seen the performance and suppose everybody will feel as though it is worth only a nickel?" "Oh, they won't feel like that at all, Rosanna," said Helen. "I think every single person will think it is worth a quarter. Think if they would all pay twenty-five cents!" "I know several who expect to pay a dollar," said Uncle Robert. "If they only will," cried Rosanna, almost sobbing, "Gwenny can go to Cincinnati this very winter! I think it is a good idea, Uncle Robert. After all, it is a good thing that you did consult with Miss Hooker, even if it _has_ taken a lot of your time. I think you have been so kind." "Oh, I haven't minded," said Uncle Robert in a generous way. "Why, you must have minded," went on Rosanna. "I have kept track all I could, because I was so much obliged to you, and you have been over there at Miss Hooker's house consulting--well, you had to go over five nights last week, and Miss Hooker is always saying, 'I had a telephone today from your uncle.' You must be tired to death. I nearly told Miss Hooker so, but I thought it might sound rude." "You are right about that, Rosanna; it would have been very rude indeed, excessively rude I may say," said Mr. Horton with some haste. "I can scarcely think of anything worse for you to say. My sainted Maria!" "I didn't say it," Rosanna assured him, "and the thing is so nearly over now, only a week more, that it really doesn't matter." "Not a particle!" said Mr. Horton. "But I wish you would promise me that you won't say anything of the sort. Not that it matters, but I seem to feel nervous." "Of course I will promise," agreed Rosanna. "I love Miss Hooker but of course I love you more, and I just do hate to have you bothered." "It is mighty nice of you, sweetness, but you must not worry about me at all. Now to change the conversation, as the man said when he had nearly been hanged by mistake, you give these tickets out to your Girl Scouts and tell them to offer them to the people who would be most likely to give more than a nickel. It ought to be easy. They are to say that the benefit will cost them five cents or up as they leave the hall. With your permission, I will make a few remarks and tell them about Gwenny. But we will not mention her by name, because if there should be a newspaper reporter lurking around he would put it in the papers and that would be very embarrassing." After Uncle Robert had gone out the girls made the tickets up in little bundles, one for each girl in the group. Their own they spread out on the table, planning how they would dispose of them. "Whom shall you sell to first?" asked Helen. "Mr. Harriman," said Rosanna quietly. Helen dropped her tickets. "Dear _me_, Rosanna!" she cried. "I would be too afraid to offer him a ticket." "_I_ am not," said Rosanna. "I would do more than that for Gwenny, and I am not afraid of him at all. Not even if he roars. And he has lots and lots of money. I shouldn't wonder at all that he will be one of the dollar ones if he comes. And he has _got_ to come if I go after him." "Dear _me_!" said Helen again, quite awed. "You are brave. Shall I come with you?" "If you like," replied Rosanna. "We will go right after school tomorrow." The interview with Mr. Harriman took place as planned the first thing after school. School let out at two o'clock, and it was half-past when the girls mounted the steps of the grim old fortress in which Mr. Harriman lived. Now it happened that half past two was a very dark hour for Mr. Harriman because at about that time he was always in the clutch of a bad attack of indigestion brought on daily because he would _not_ mind his doctor and omit pickles and sweets from his bill of fare. At this time he read the morning paper and reviled the world at large. His sister always left him with the excuse that she wanted to lie down, and he was alone with his abused stomach and his pepsin tablets and his thoughts. The two girls entered the room and waited for him to speak. Mr. Harriman looked up from his reading with a dark scowl. Most of the newspaper was on the floor where he had thrown it to stamp on. He always felt better when he stamped on the editorials that displeased him most. It seemed to soothe his feelings. He managed to grunt, "'Dafternoon! 'Dafternoon!" when he saw the two girls advance across his library, and then he waited, looking over the tops of a very grubby pair of glasses for them to state their errands. It was Rosanna who spoke first, although generally Helen was the spokesman. But Helen was frankly afraid of the grouchy old gentleman, while Rosanna was too anxious to help Gwenny to be afraid of anyone. So she said, "Please excuse us, Mr. Harriman, if we have interrupted your reading." "Well, you have!" said Mr. Harriman gruffly. "Whadder you want? Sell me chances on a doll's carriage or sofy pillow? Who's getting up your fair? Meth'dist, 'Piscopal? Here's a dime." He held out the money, which Rosanna took gently and laid on the table beside him. "Thank you," she said. "We don't want any money today. We have come to tell you about an entertainment we are going to give. First if you don't mind I think I will just shine up your glasses. You can't see to think through them the way they are," and as Helen looked on, expecting to see Rosanna snapped in two any second, she held out her hand for the glasses, shaking out a clean pocket handkerchief as she did so. No one was more surprised than Mr. Harriman himself when he took off the smeary spectacles and handed them to Rosanna, who silently polished them and handed them back. They _were_ better; Mr. Harriman acknowledged it with a grunt. "Girls are real handy," said Rosanna with her sweet smile. "Grrrrrr!" from Mr. Harriman. "Whadded you want to tell me?" but his voice certainly seemed a shade less gruff. Rosanna, speaking distinctly and as carefully as though she was explaining to a small child, told the old man about Gwenny and the benefit and after that, as he sat perfectly still looking at her through unnaturally shiny glasses, she went on to tell him about the Girl Scouts. You couldn't tell whether he cared a snap about it, but at all events he listened, and Helen and Rosanna both thought it was a good sign. They did not dare to glance at each other, but Rosanna went on talking until she felt that she had told him all that he would want to know if he had been a regular sort of a human being instead of a grouchy, cross old man who seemed to delight in scaring everyone away from him. "That's all," said Rosanna finally, smiling up into the scowling old face. There was a long silence, "Grrrrrr!" said Mr. Harriman again. "So you want me to come to your show, do you? Haven't been to a show for forty years! No good! Silly!" "Ours isn't," declared Helen, suddenly finding her voice. "Our entertainment is perfectly splendid!" "Perfectly splendid!" mimicked Mr. Harriman. "Sounds just like a woman! All alike, regardless of age. Grrrrrr!" "You will come, won't you?" asked Rosanna. "Please do! You see it is only a nickel if you do not think it is worth more." "A great many persons are going to pay a quarter," hinted Helen. "All right, all right!" said Mr. Harriman. "You are less objectionable than most children. I will come if I can remember it." "Suppose I come after you?" suggested Rosanna, remembering what she had said to Helen about getting Mr. Harriman if she had to come after him. "All right, all right! Let it go at that! I know your sex! You will forget all about your agreement by the time you reach the next corner. If you come after me, I will go to your show. In the Hargrave barn, eh? Anything to sit on, or shall I bring a chair?" "No, sir; Uncle Robert has fixed seats and everything. And I will come for you quite early because I have to be there doing my part." "That's nuff!" grunted Mr. Harriman, nodding curtly. "'Dafternoon!" He resumed his paper, and as he caught the opening sentences of the article before him, there came a sound like the grating of teeth and the noise of a large boiler that is about to explode. The girls said, "Good afternoon!" in two small voices and went out as quickly as they could. Helen breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the outer air. "Rosanna, you are certainly a very brave girl," she said. "I am glad to get out alive. Every minute I expected to hear him say, 'Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the breath of an English-mun!'" Rosanna laughed. "He is pretty awful," she granted. "But I mean to make him come. I think it will do him good to see that play, and I shall certainly go after him. If he thinks I am going to forget about him, he is greatly mistaken." "Let's try to get rid of all our tickets this afternoon. You know we are to meet Uncle Robert at the barn at five o'clock to see the theatre he has fixed up. Oh, Helen, I am _so_ excited!" For a couple of hours the girls repeated the story of Gwenny and the benefit until they could say it by heart. The tickets went so fast that they were sorry that they did not have twice as many. At a quarter of five they hurried back to Mrs. Hargrave's, where Elise was waiting for them and Uncle Robert soon joined them. There was a short wait then, because he refused to unlock the door before Miss Hooker arrived although the girls begged and begged, assuring him that she wouldn't mind. Finally they heard the tap, tap, tap of her tiny shoes on the old brick walk, and round the corner she came, looking more dimply and dainty and altogether beautiful than ever. Uncle Robert looked as though he could eat her, but somehow it was not the sort of look he had given Rosanna that other time. Not at all! Rosanna noticed it. CHAPTER VI The stairs were broad and easy, and the girls ran up after Uncle Robert who proceeded to fit a large key in the lock of the big door at the head of the stairs. It was a very fine stable, built many, many years ago, and finished outside and inside with great care. The walls were all sealed or finished with narrow strips of varnished wood. As the door swung open, the three girls stood dumb with amazement. Then "Oh, _darling_ Uncle Robert!" cried Rosanna, and threw herself into his arms. Uncle Robert looked over her head at Miss Hooker and smiled. "Glad if you like it, kiddie," he said. "It is my contribution to little Gwenny. And Doctor Rick told me to tell you that he would send some music for his share." "Oh, Helen, Helen, isn't that _splendid_?" cried Rosanna. "Now we won't have to have a Victrola! It will be like a real theatre." "Just exactly," said Helen absently. She could not give very much thought to the orchestra when the little theatre claimed her attention. There was a real stage, and before it a long green tin that the girls knew concealed the footlights. A splendid curtain hung before them, painted in a splashy way with a landscape. To the girls it seemed a rare work of art. Well, the sign painter who had done it was rather proud of himself, so it _must_ have been all right. They walked down the aisle between rows of nice new benches, made with comfortable backs. Mr. Horton left them and went around back of the stage. Immediately there was a sound of ropes squeaking, and the curtain rose as majestically as though it was the curtain of a real theatre. And there was the stage! The same accommodating sign painter had painted a back drop and "flies" as they are called. It was a woodland scene. Trees were the thing that accommodating sign painter could do best, and he had made lots of them, as green as green! He had also painted two canvas covered boxes so that you could scarcely tell them from real rocks. "Isn't that pretty nifty looking scenery?" asked Uncle Robert proudly. "It only goes to show that there is a lot of kindness floating around loose in this work-a-day old world. The man who painted all this knew Gwenny's mother when she was a girl, and when I asked for his bill he said he had done it all Sundays and nights and it was his contribution. He wouldn't take a cent. Doing it nights is why some of the trees look sort of bluish but I don't think it hurts, do you?" "What a nice, _nice_ man!" exclaimed Miss Hooker. "I should say it _doesn't_ hurt! To think of his working nights after painting all day long. I should admire those trees if they were a bright _purple_!" "Of course you would," said Uncle Robert softly. "You are like that." Rosanna was hurt. "Why, Uncle Robert! She doesn't mean that she would just as _soon_ like a purple tree as a green one. She means how nice it was of the man." "Thank you, Rosanna; it is all perfectly clear to me now," smiled Uncle Robert. "Perfectly clear." He looked again at Miss Hooker and she smothered a little smile behind her little handkerchief. They hated to go out of the theatre and see Uncle Robert lock the door. Then they separated. Elise danced off to the house. Miss Hooker and Helen went down the street together, and Uncle Robert and Rosanna cut across the garden. Rosanna's heart was full. She wanted _everybody_ to be happy. "Uncle Robert," she said, "sometimes I wish that you were going to get married after awhile. If you were only going to marry Miss Hooker or some young lady just like her, so little and sweet!" "Well, it is worth considering," said Uncle Robert. "I wonder now, just for the sake of argument, that is, if I _should_ do it to accommodate you, I wonder if Miss Hooker _would_ marry me." "Oh, no," said Rosanna. "She wouldn't _think_ of it." "Ugh!" said Uncle Robert. It sounded as though someone had knocked all the air out of him. "No," continued Rosanna. "We were talking about Minnie getting married one day, and I said it was the only wedding I was ever apt to have anything to do with because I had heard you say many times that you were not a marrying man." "What did she say?" asked Uncle Robert in a sort of strangled voice which Rosanna, skipping along at his side, failed to notice. "Oh, she said, 'How interesting!' and I said, 'Isn't it? Because he is nicer than anyone I know, but he says that girls never cut any figure in his young life except to play with.'" "What did she say then?" demanded Mr. Horton. "Nothing at all," answered Rosanna, "but she is sensible too, because the next time I was there, she asked more about Minnie, and then she said she had decided never to marry. She said she liked to be polite to men and help them pass the time, and to assist them in worthy works, but further than that she despised the whole lot of them, especially blonds." Rosanna looked up to see what color hair Uncle Robert had, and noticed a very queer look on his face. "You look so queer, Uncle Robert," she said tenderly. "Don't you feel well?" "No, I don't," said Uncle Robert. "I think if you will excuse me I will take a walk." "How _do_ you feel?" persisted Rosanna. "I feel--I feel _queer_," said Uncle Robert. "I feel sort of as though I had been gassed." He turned abruptly and went down the walk, leaving Rosanna staring after him. At dinner, however, Uncle Robert declared that he was all right, so Rosanna stopped worrying. Everything went rushing along. And everything went beautifully, thanks to the energy everybody put into their work. A couple of days before the day of the entertainment Uncle Robert appeared with a copy of the programs that he had had printed. All the Girl Scouts, when Rosanna brought it to the rehearsal, read it until the paper was quite worn out. At the bottom of the page, after the program part, was printed plainly, _Given by the Girl Scouts of Group II_. Whoever saw the program at all could not fail to see that they were all in it, one as much as another. At last the great day came! It was Saturday, of course. No other day would be possible for busy school girls. Directly after supper, the Scouts commenced to file into the theatre by ones and twos and threes. They gathered in the dressing-rooms back of the stage, where they sat or stood in solemn groups. Helen and Elise had arrived, and as Rosanna started across the garden she happened to think of Mr. Harriman. She could not suppress a groan of dismay as she remembered her promise to go after him. There was no time to get Helen or Elise to go. She looked wildly up and down for some other Girl Scout, but there was not one in sight. If she did not go, Mr. Harriman would indeed think that all women were alike. So she flitted down the street looking like a good fairy in her shimmering blue dress, with the tiny wreath of forget-me-nots banding her dark hair. She had not taken time to put on her blue evening coat, with its broad bands of white fox fur, but held it round her shoulders with both hands as she ran. Mr. Harriman was at home, the footman said, but he was engaged; had company for dinner, and they had not quite finished. Would she wait? Rosanna said she was sorry but she would have to go right in and speak to Mr. Harriman. So she passed the pompous servant and at the dining-room door a still more pompous butler, and stepped into the presence of Mr. Harriman and his guests. Miss Harriman, a thin, scared little old lady, sat at the head of the table. Opposite her, busy with a large dish of plum pudding, sat Mr. Harriman. His two guests sat on either side of him. They were old too, so three white-haired old gentlemen turned and looked at Rosanna as she entered and dropped a curtsey. "'Devening! There you are again! Grrrrrr! Didn't forget, did you? Bah! Want I should go to show?" said Mr. Harriman, partly to Rosanna and partly to the others. "Yes, sir; this is the night," said Rosanna. "What's this?" asked one of the gentlemen, who looked as though he could not have said _grrrrrr_ or _bah_ to save his life. "That's a Girl Scout," said Mr. Harriman. "Told you at the club that I would find out about 'em. Here's a live one. Caught her myself." He acted quite pleased. "Shall I wait and walk over with you, Mr. Harriman," asked Rosanna, "or will you come as soon as you can? You see I must be over there very early." "I will come m'self," said Mr. Harriman. "Want piece puddin'? No? S'good! I will come later. Won't break my word. Didn't break yours. Bring these fellows along if they have any money." "How much will we need?" said the third old gentleman, laughing. "Anything from a nickel up," replied Rosanna. "Cost you a quarter," said Mr. Harriman. "Cosgrove, here, will have to pay thirty-five cents. Based on income tax!" Rosanna, watching him, thought she saw a real twinkle in Mr. Harriman's eye. She warned them to be on time and promised to save three seats for them in the front row. Then she went skipping happily off. Three instead of one to come to the play, two quarters, and thirty-five cents made eighty-five cents right there! It was enough to make _anyone_ skip. When she reached the barn people were filing up the broad stairs, and the room was already half full. Uncle Robert stood near the door nodding and smiling and telling the Girl Scout ushers where to seat one and another. Rosanna hurriedly wrote "Taken" on the backs of three tickets, and laid them on three spaces on the bench nearest the stage. As people kept coming, she commenced to wonder if there would be seats enough. She whispered her fear to Uncle Robert. "That's all right," he said. "I have one of the box stalls downstairs full of camp chairs, and the sign painter is here to help me bring them up if they are needed." "You think of everything," said Rosanna fondly, then set herself to watch the door for Mr. Harriman. It was not long before she heard the clump, clump, clump of his cane and the heavy footsteps of his two friends. She escorted them proudly to their seats, and left them nodding appreciatively at the bright curtain and all the fittings of the little theatre. Then she hurried around back of the stage. "They came, eighty-five cents' worth!" she whispered to Helen. "What do you mean?" "Mr. Harriman is here and two of his friends," said Rosanna. "And Mr. Harriman and one friend will give twenty-five cents, and the other will give thirty-five." "Good!" said Helen. "How do I look? Is the place filling up? Have you seen the music Doctor Rick sent? Five pieces! They have just come. They are down in the feed room getting their instruments out. Oh, I am _so_ excited! And it is all to make Gwenny well." "I am going out now," said Rosanna. "I wish you could all sit out in front. It does not seem fair for me to do so." "It _is_ fair," Helen assured her. "Didn't you write the whole play? Of course you must see that it is played right." When Rosanna appeared she glanced at Mr. Harriman and was surprised to have him beckon her to him. "Sit here," he said, making a small but sufficient space between himself and one of his friends--the thirty-five cent one, Rosanna noticed. She sat down, and as she did so the music started off with a flourish. How splendidly it sounded! It quite drowned the sound of people entering. Uncle Robert, and the sign painter, and a couple of brothers belonging to one of the girls were busy bringing camp chairs and placing them in the wide aisle and along the sides. Two bright red spots burned on Rosanna's cheeks. She looked at her wrist watch. In five minutes it would begin. And it did. A row of Girl Scouts in crisp, natty looking uniforms, marching according to size, so that the large girls were in the center of the stage, came out before the curtain and sang one of their best Girl Scout songs. Their voices were so sweet and they sang so well that they had to return and give an encore. Mr. Harriman pounded with his cane. Then the Webster girls, dressed as fairies, came out and danced what the program called the Moonbeam Dance, and behold, Uncle Robert had fixed a spot light so they looked pink and white and purple and blue by turns and it was like a real theatre. There was so much applause after this that Rosanna could not help wondering if it was a good strong barn! Then there was a short pause while the orchestra played. As it ended, Uncle Robert appeared before the curtain. He looked so beautiful to Rosanna in his evening dress with his merry eyes and pleasant smile, that her eyes filled with tears of pride. And he made a beautiful simple little speech. He told the audience a great deal about the Girl Scouts and all the good the organization was doing for the girls and others as well, and then he told of the little lame girl, suffering so hopelessly and so patiently, and how these Girl Scouts had determined to help her. He told them there was no price set on the tickets, because some might feel like giving ten cents or even a quarter or so but that no one was _asked_ to leave more than a nickel. And then he called their attention to the beautiful curtain and told them that that and the scenery was the gift of a friend who was a sign painter, who had done it Sundays and nights after work as his contribution to the benefit, and everybody clapped furiously, and Mr. Harriman and the thirty-five cent gentleman commenced to nudge each other behind Rosanna. _She_ was sitting on the very front edge of the bench. Then Uncle Robert said: "After another short selection by the orchestra there will be a play written by one of the Girl Scouts. We hope that you will enjoy it." He bowed, and stepped behind the curtain, while everybody clapped and Mr. Harriman thumped with his cane. As the orchestra struck up, the thirty-five cent gentleman leaned over to Mr. Harriman and said, "What are you going to do about it, Dick?" "Do 'swell's you do," said Mr. Harriman. "Just as much?" questioned the thirty-five cent gentleman. "Yes," said Mr. Harriman, snorting. "And fifty over!" "I will break even with you both," said the third gentleman, leaning across. Mr. Cosgrove took out a check book and a fountain pen and commenced to write. Mr. Harriman leaned behind Rosanna and watched. "Poh! Hum! Grrrrrr! Piker!" he said, and Mr. Cosgrove, laughing, tore up his check and wrote another which he handed to Mr. Harriman. Rosanna did not think it would be polite to look, but wondered what in the world they were doing when they should have been listening to the music. "S'all right," said Mr. Harriman. "Girl's pretty lame, isn't she, Rosanna?" "Gwenny can't walk at all," replied Rosanna, "and even at night her back hurts so she can't sleep." "Poor little broken pot," said the third gentleman softly. "A pity that the hand of the Potter slipped." "Save your poetry, Bristol!" grunted Mr. Harriman. "This talks better." He struck the check book with his pen, and Mr. Bristol, borrowing a page, wrote busily as the curtain rose. Rosanna, hoping they would forget business for a while, bent her eyes on the stage. CHAPTER VII As the play progressed Rosanna commenced to doubt her own senses. It did not seem possible that she could have written anything so good and so interesting. When the act ended, there was a louder burst of applause than at any other time, and to Rosanna's horror some one in the back of the room commenced to cry, "Author, author!" Rosanna did not realize at first that they meant her and was looking around the room with a great deal of interest when she felt both Mr. Harriman and Mr. Cosgrove pushing her to her feet. She stood up because they shoved her up, and she did not know what to do next. Then the most amazing thing of all happened. Mr. Harriman rose to his feet and taking Rosanna firmly by the arm as though she might dash off any instant, he started toward the three little steps at one side of the stage. Up these steps he sternly piloted Rosanna, while everyone in the room clapped and clapped again. All of Louisville knew Mr. Harriman, and when everybody saw that _he_ was escorting the little girl who had written the play, they sat quite still to see what would happen next. When they reached the stage and stood facing the audience, someone called, "Speech, speech!" but that was 'way, 'way beyond Rosanna, who was perfectly overcome anyway. She looked pleadingly at Mr. Harriman, who knew what she meant, and took pity on her. "Hum, grrrrrr," he commenced. "Ladies and gentlemen, this little lady, who is the author and producer of the play you have just seen, asks me to speak for her. She thanks you for your appreciation, and for the help you are giving to herself and these other generous Girl Scouts in their efforts to assist a girl less fortunate than themselves. You have heard about the little cripple who is to be benefited by the work of these girls, and I think we, the audience fortunate enough to be present at this memorable occasion, will esteem it a pleasure to do what we can toward making it possible for this little sufferer to obtain a possible cure through a very serious and expensive operation. We thank you. Grrrrrr!" He _glared_ at Mr. Cosgrove and Mr. Bristol, and bowed. Rosanna dipped a hasty curtsey, and they went off the stage again as everybody clapped and the music struck up the jolliest piece they knew. The entertainment was over! Back with Mr. Cosgrove and Mr. Bristol, each old gentleman shook hands with Rosanna and started for the door, where Uncle Robert, intent on the most important part of all, sat at the table on which was a shoe box with a slot cut in the cover. He was smiling and beaming and saying, "Thank you!" over and over as people congratulated him on Rosanna's play. Miss Hooker stood beside him looking so sweet and true and pretty that when Mr. Harriman came up and looked at her, and started to say "Grrrrrr," it actually sounded like a purr! He hastily shoved something white through the slot, and Mr. Cosgrove and Mr. Bristol followed him, looking very guilty. Then Mr. Harriman turned back. "Absolutely confidential, Horton! No newspapers!" he said. "Absolutely, sir, and thank you," said Uncle Robert, bowing to the three. He commenced to suspect something! Miss Hooker stooped to whisper something to Robert. As soon as the last person had left the hall, he obeyed the whisper, and taking the precious box, which was sealed with red sealing wax where the cover went on, he went behind the scenes. All the girls were there, as well as the sign painter and the two brothers. These three looked immensely relieved when a fourth member of their sex appeared. Mrs. Hargrave was there too, and she was inviting everyone to walk over to her house and have something to eat. She said she believed it was customary after the first presentation of a play. When some of the girls said they would have to go home with their folks on account of getting home with escort, Mrs. Hargrave at once added that she had arranged with Mrs. Horton to send the girls home in their automobiles. So very soon they were all in Mrs. Hargrave's immense dining-room, sitting in chairs ranged round the room and being served chicken bouillon and sandwiches, and fruit salad, and olives, and cocoa, and ice-cream with whipped cream on top. All they could eat of each thing too! "I can't wait to see the inside of that box," said Mrs. Hargrave after all the Girl Scouts and the sign painter and the two brothers had said good night and thank you, and had gone. "What if these children of ours _do_ have to sleep half the day tomorrow? Telephone your mother, Miss Hooker, that you are here with me, and that you will be home presently, and we will go into the library and watch Robert count the money. And whatever is lacking, when it comes to settling for that operation, Mrs. Horton and I intend to make up." Robert Horton laughed. "I have an idea that you are on the safe side of the bargain, dear lady," he said. "I think this box will surprise us." "How much do you suppose is in it?" asked Miss Hooker as she started for the telephone. "A hundred dollars?" "Five hundred at the least," answered Uncle Robert. Everybody started to hurry for the library at that as though the money in the box would have to be counted as rapidly as possible for fear it might fly away. Uncle Robert happened to sit beside Miss Hooker again, but Rosanna sat on the other side. He cut the sealing wax and opened the box. There was all sorts of silver money there _except nickels_! There was not one nickel. Dimes, quarters, fifty-cent pieces, and silver dollars, but not a nickel. Uncle Robert placed the coins in neat piles, then he commenced to stack the paper money. After he had done this, he sorted out five checks, which he laid by themselves quite respectfully, face down. Then he drew out a pencil and paper and commenced to count. No one spoke. At the last, still keeping the faces of the five checks out of sight, he added them in, covered the paper with his hand, and looked up. He seemed dazed. "How much do you think?" he demanded. "Don't make us guess, Robert," said his mother. "Two thousand, two hundred and thirty-four dollars and twenty-five cents," he said slowly. "Impossible!" exclaimed Mrs. Hargrave sharply. Miss Hooker gave a gasp. The girls, perfectly round-eyed, sat silent. "There it is!" said Mr. Horton. "Mr. Bristol and Mr. Cosgrove each gave a check for five hundred dollars, and Mr. Harriman wrote his for five hundred and fifty." Mrs. Horton sniffed. "Dick Harriman never gave twenty-five dollars to anything like this in his life," she said. "Well, here is his check," declared her son. "So _that_ is where the fifty came in," said Rosanna, finding her voice. She repeated the conversation she had heard. Everybody laughed. "Poor Dick!" said Mrs. Hargrave. "He doesn't feel well, and his bark is so bad that I doubt if anyone ever before stopped to see what his bite was like until Rosanna tried. I reckon he is happier tonight than he has been for a long while. He would think it was a great joke, too, to cajole Henry Bristol and Clinton Cosgrove into giving that money. Well, they can afford it many times over, so it will do them all good." "Too bad Rick MacLaren isn't here," said Uncle Robert. "He has a sick patient on hand, and couldn't come. I will tell him the first thing in the morning." "And these girls _must_ go to bed," said Mrs. Horton. "Are you going to stay with Rosanna, Helen?" "I think I will just have to go home and tell mother and father about it if there is any way for me to get there," replied Helen. "If Miss Hooker feels like the extra walk, we will take you on our way to her house," said Uncle Robert eagerly. "I would love it," said Miss Hooker obligingly. Rosanna marvelled. Miss Hooker lived blocks away from Helen, in the opposite direction, but as the older people said nothing, Rosanna kept silence. At all events the benefit was over, and her Uncle Robert would no longer feel obliged to spend all his time with a mere girl, because no matter how lovely, Rosanna knew that he didn't care for girls. A number of girls ranging in age from twelve to sixteen were busy repeating in a number of homes that night just how they had felt at different times during the evening, and explaining to less fortunate brothers and sisters how good everything had tasted afterwards. And Sunday morning, a great many mothers had a difficult time getting their Girl Scout daughters awake. Rosanna had a long talk with Uncle Bob. She wanted to know what was going to be done about the money. "I have been thinking about that," said Uncle Robert. "I will put it in the bank the first thing tomorrow morning. I shall put it in the office bank for safe keeping until then." "Do you suppose it will take all of it for Gwenny's operation?" asked Rosanna. "No, I do not," Robert replied, "but of course Doctor Branshaw is a very high priced specialist, and he sets his own fees." "If he knew that Gwenny was a poor little girl and that the Girl Scouts were taking care of her, I wonder if it would make any difference?" Uncle Robert shook his head. "I don't believe I would ask a favor of anyone, now that you have earned such a lot of money. Just go ahead and pay her way like good sports. At that, with the hospital charges and nurses paid, I think you may have a little left over. If we have, we will have to find the best way to spend it for Gwenny. I want to consult with Miss Hooker about it later if she is not too tired." "Consult again! Oh, _poor_ Uncle Robert!" said Rosanna compassionately. "I thought that was all over with." "It is not as painful as you seem to think," said Uncle Robert dryly. "At all events, my health is not breaking under the strain. I never knew you to fuss so, Rosanna. Just what have you up your sleeve anyhow? Don't you like your Captain after all?" "Oh, I perfectly _love_ her," cried Rosanna warmly. "You don't know how sweet she is, Uncle Robert! And she is such a good Captain. Every girl in the patrol loves her and will do anything in the world for her." Seeing that Uncle Robert appeared to be listening, Rosanna went on warming to her subject. "At the Rally, I heard one of the ladies say that our Captain was considered the best one in all the city. And she looks so young; just like one of the girls when she gets into her Scout uniform. When we are on hikes, she runs around and plays with us and joins all our games. Oh, yes, Uncle Robert, I do love her dearly!" "I don't know but what I do myself," admitted Uncle Robert unexpectedly. "Why, Uncle _Robert_!" said Rosanna in a shocked tone. "What a thing for you to say!" Uncle Robert wondered if he had made a mistake. It was not the sort of a remark he would want repeated. So he made another mistake. "Wasn't it? A joke, Rosanna; just a merry jest. Thought you would laugh over it. Ha ha! Ha ha!" "Ha ha!" repeated Rosanna to be agreeable. Sometimes Uncle Robert was rather disappointing. "But she is lovely anyway, and has loads and loads of friends, and, Uncle Robert, I think she has a sweetheart because boxes and boxes of flowers come to her, and she just keeps a little one to wear, and sends all the rest to the hospital. And lovely books come by mail and the fattest letters! One had poetry in it, too. I could tell by the shape of the writing down the page." "Don't snoop, Rosanna," said Uncle Robert sharply. "I didn't, Uncle Robert," said Rosanna in a hurt tone. "She was sitting close to me on the sofa, and I couldn't help seeing. She liked it too, because she smiled so sweetly and showed all her dimples, even the one that almost _never_ comes out." "What a little ray of sunshine you are, Rosanna!" said her uncle strangely. "Thank you; a Girl Scout _ought_ to be," replied Rosanna. "Well, you are, all right, sweetness," said Uncle Robert. He sighed deeply almost as though the ray of sunshine had not come his way at all. He kissed Rosanna and then sat her down rather hard in a deep chair. "I don't know when I have felt so cheered up. And now, if you would like to call the garage and order the little car for me, I will go around to see Doctor MacLaren and tell him the good news of our fortune. And on second thoughts, I don't believe I will have to consult with Miss Hooker at all. I think perhaps you are right. I have bothered her enough." "She has been _very_ polite and kind about it all, hasn't she?" asked Rosanna. "Most polite and kind," Mr. Horton agreed. "But we don't want to wear her kindness out, do we, Rosanna? I will go see Rick, and in a day or two my part of this affair will be finished. And I won't have to bother anybody. I am thinking of a little trip out West, Rosanna. I wish you could go with me." "I wish I could!" said Rosanna, "but grandmother wouldn't want me to leave school, and besides I couldn't leave the Scouts just now. Where do you think of going, Uncle Robert?" "Nowhere in particular, unless--" he thought a moment. "It might be fun to look up some place where they had never heard of the Girl Scouts." "Perfectly splendid!" said Rosanna. "_That_ would be doing a good deed. You could tell the people about us, and start a patrol. I must tell Miss Hooker about this; she will think it is so nice of you. She appreciates kind acts, even if she doesn't like men." "It is not worth mentioning, Rosanna," answered Uncle Robert. "Besides, I didn't have just that in mind. However, I hear the car and will leave you before--before I do anything I regret." He went off, and Rosanna watched him through the window as he started his car. He was real jerky with it, and it sputtered and missed, and went off with a leap. "He is all tired out," thought Rosanna. CHAPTER VIII Time passed, a great many things happening. Gwenny, accompanied by her mother (there being plenty of money for everything), was taken away to the place of her great trial. When the question arose as to what should be done with Mary and Tommy and Myron and Luella and Baby Christopher, Rosanna thought of Minnie, always so good and kind. She went to see her, and the result was that Minnie volunteered to stay at Gwenny's and run the little house and take care of the children as long as Mrs. Harter was needed in Cincinnati. Both Doctor MacLaren and Mr. Horton went with Mrs. Harter and Gwenny, and made the journey as comfortable as they possibly could. The great Doctor Branshaw, after seeing his patient, said that she must have at least a week of rest under his own eye before he would be willing to try the operation. So Gwenny was settled in a sunny room at the hospital where she at once became the pet of the ward and Doctor MacLaren and Mr. Horton came home. Late in the afternoon, the very next Sunday, Mr. Horton came into the house looking the picture of gloom. He scarcely spoke to his mother and Rosanna but rushed up to his room and immediately there was a sound of things being dragged around, and many footsteps. And the door opened and shut a great many times. Mrs. Horton wondered what that boy was up to now and went on reading. But Rosanna listened with a black suspicion growing in her mind. And, sure enough, Mr. Horton came down presently to announce that he was going away for a few weeks. He was getting stale, he said, and needed a little change. When he saw Rosanna's round eyes fixed on him, he looked away but repeated that he felt stale. "It is that War," said his mother, as though the war should be severely reprimanded. "Before you went into that war, you were always contented. Now nothing contents you for long." "Perhaps you are right," admitted Robert absently. "At all events I can be spared from the office just now better than at any other time, and I am going to go away." And go he did an hour later. Mrs. Hargrave and Elise came in presently to take Sunday night luncheon. "Where is Robert?" asked Mrs. Hargrave, seeing that no place was set for him. "Gone off for a vacation," said his mother. "Dear me, isn't he well?" asked Mrs. Hargrave. "Perfectly, but he just took one of his notions and went." "Anything--er--happened, do you suppose?" questioned Mrs. Hargrave. "Anything--er, _you_ know. Misunderstanding?" "Possibly," answered Mrs. Horton. "That is what I suspect. But I don't _know_ anything." "Oh dear, oh dear!" cried Mrs. Hargrave, folding her fine old hands together. "It is too bad! Can't something be done? Why, Robert is the finest boy in this world! He is just what I dream my son would have been if I had had one. Do you suppose one could say anything to the other person?" "No, indeed," said Mrs. Horton. "I don't _know_, you see. I only suspect." So Uncle Robert went away, and Gwenny was off at the hospital, and Rosanna and Helen spent all their time drilling Elise in the requirements of the Tenderfoot examination. Elise was quick to learn, but she found more difficulty in learning this because her knowledge of English was of course limited. The girls were anxious to make a brilliant showing with their recruit. Over and over they drilled her in the Tenderfoot examination, at the last requiring her to write the answers to the examination paper which read as follows: TENDERFOOT EXAMINATION, WRITTEN. 1 a Give the Scout promise. b What does the Scout motto mean? 2 Give the Scout laws in order. 3 a What is the purpose of the Scout movement? b What does a Scout's honor mean? c Give the meaning of one law. d How and when should the Scout salute be given? e Explain the Scout badge. 4 a Who made the American flag? b Why was a flag needed? c In what city was it made? What year? d Name the committee appointed to design it. 5 a Quote General Washington's words about the flag. b When was the flag officially adopted? c Describe the first official flag of the stars and stripes. 6 a What do the stars represent? The stripes? b For what do the colors, red, white and blue stand? c How many stars has the flag now? What day is Flag day? d When is a new star added and why? 7 Give fully the respect due the flag. 8 a What should Scouts do when the National Anthem is played? b What should Civilians do at Retreat? Scouts? 9 a What is the United States Government? b Who is at its head? c Name the Commissioners of the District of Columbia. 10 a Write America. b Write The Star Spangled Banner (omitting 3rd stanza). Then followed the demonstration of knots and knot tying. Over and over they drilled her, and Elise was an apt pupil. Her delicate little fingers seemed to know of themselves what to do. "I am glad she is to _write_ that examination," sighed Helen the day before Elise was to go to Captain Hooker and take her examination formally. She was to be examined on Friday afternoon, and at the meeting Saturday night she was to become a Tenderfoot Scout member of their patrol. "What difference does it make whether she writes the exam, or recites her answers?" returned Rosanna. "She speaks brokenly, of course, but that does not matter." "All it matters is that no one could hear her speak of General Washington the way she does in her funny broken English, without wanting to scream. It is so funny." Funny or not, Elise went through her examination most successfully and Saturday night accompanied Helen and Rosanna to the meeting at Miss Hooker's house. Their little Captain had fitted up a room specially for her girls, where they could keep their various documents and where the seats, the neat desk for the secretary, and the standard for the big silk flag did not need to be disturbed in the intervals between meetings. Elise was thrilled beyond words. As they entered the room she saw that the two girls saluted their little Captain. Not knowing if she was expected to salute before becoming a Scout, Elise dropped a shy curtsey and followed Rosanna to a seat where they awaited the full number of Scouts and the shrill whistle from the Lieutenant which brought the meeting to order. "The first whistle means _Attention_," whispered Helen. Once again it sounded. "That is for Assembly," whispered Rosanna on the other side, as all the girls rose. Leaving Elise in her seat, the Scouts formed in double ranks at a distance of forty inches between ranks and an interval of sixty inches between patrols. The eight girls who formed a patrol took their places in groups as signified by the crosses. Patrol Patrol Patrol XXXX XXXX XXXX XXXX XXXX XXXX Captain X X Lieutenant Elise found out afterward that number one in the front rank of each patrol is the Patrol leader, and number four the Corporal. At the command "Company, attention!" from the little Captain, now standing so straight and so stern that Elise scarcely recognized her, the Company as a whole stiffened to attention. The Lieutenant, a tall, pretty girl of nineteen, then commanded, "Corporals from Patrols!" and the three Corporals stepped forward two paces, made two right turns, and stood facing the center of the patrol. The Corporals then snapped out together, "Attention! Right Dress!" after which they faced left, took two paces, made right turn, right face, and looked critically down the line to see that it was perfectly straight. After two short left steps to straighten the rear line, they faced right, took four paces forward, and with two right turns got back in position facing patrol and called the command "Front! Count off!" The Corporals then one after the other called the roll of her Patrol, and finishing that, turned and reported to the Lieutenant that the Patrol was formed, after which they returned to their places in the ranks, and the Lieutenant, saluting the Captain, reported, "Captain, the Company is formed." Inspection then followed. Each girl, saluting, stepped forward and her hair, teeth, hands, nails, shoes and general appearance was scrutinized. Elise watched all this with great interest, interest which deepened as the Captain commanded "Color guard, march!" and three girls stepped from the ranks and stood side by side for a moment, then at a word of command marched to the flag. There they saluted and marched back; when the Captain and the Lieutenant faced about, and the Captain in her silvery voice said: "The Flag of your Country; pledge allegiance!" With one voice the girls united in the beautiful pledge to the flag, "I pledge allegiance to the flag, and to the republic for which it stands; one nation indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." Elise looked at the silken folds of the glorious red, white and blue with tears in her eyes. How glad she was to make that pledge! Had not that flag, the flag that was now her own, floated over the shell-racked fields of France? Oh, she _loved_ it! The color guard returned, and the fresh young voices rose in the first verse of America. "Scouts, your promise!" said the Captain. "To do my duty to God and to my country. To help other people at all times. To obey the laws of the Scouts." the voices rang out. "The laws!" said the Captain. Again the chorus of girls repeated: A Girl Scout's honor is to be trusted. A Girl Scout is loyal. A Girl Scout's duty is to be useful, and help others. A Girl Scout is a friend to all, and a sister to every other Girl Scout. A Girl Scout is courteous. A Girl Scout keeps herself pure. A Girl Scout is a friend to animals. A Girl Scout obeys orders. A Girl Scout is cheerful. A Girl Scout is thrifty. "Dismissed!" said the little Captain and, breaking ranks, the girls went to their seats where they sat talking in low tones until the sharp sound of the Lieutenant's whistle called them to attention again. "Now I do come," said Elise to herself, and her heart commenced to hammer in quite an alarming fashion. But it was not quite time for her to rise. Looking at Rosanna, she saw her give a slight shake of the head, and Elise leaned back in her seat while all the business of the meeting was settled and plans made for some aid for a poor family living near. One thing Elise noticed particularly. The girls present were widely different in looks, and Elise with her delicate perceptions saw plainly that they belonged in widely differing classes, so called. A few of the girls, Rosanna among them, had the carefully cared for and delicately nurtured look of the very rich. More were like Helen, clean, carefully groomed and almost precise in her dress and accessories. Others were very evidently poor, with rough little hands that already told the story of hard work and few toilet creams. But whoever they were, they saw no difference in each other. They were Girl Scouts in the fullest and best sense of the word: sisters pledged to each other, and living up to that pledge in all earnestness and honor. Elise, waiting for her summons to go forward, and understanding nothing of the business that was going on, threw her thoughts backward. She saw herself the idolized child of the gay, rich young couple in the great château, where long painted lines of powdered and frilled and armor-clad ancestors looked down at her from the long galleries, and where dozens of willing servants danced to do her bidding. Then the picture changed, and with the roll of drums and the thunder of cannon she saw the hated foe march across her land, destroying as they came. Father, mother, grandmother, home, riches; all went down as under a devouring tide. Then the promises of her Monsieur Bob, and after long, long weary days spent with the ladies of the Red Cross came the journey into the Unknown, that trip across an ocean that was to forever separate her from a past that was too terrible for a little girl to have known. To have found refuge in Mrs. Hargrave's tender arms, to have won such love and such friends--to be able to be a Girl Scout-- Elise turned her eyes, brimming with sudden tears, to the flag. "Never, _never_ will I zem disappoint!" she whispered tenderly, using as best she could the unfamiliar words of her adopted tongue. CHAPTER IX At last Elise saw the Captain glance in her direction as the whistle blew once more for attention and the Captain commanded, "Fall in!" A look of serious interest appeared on the faces of the girls as they formed in a horseshoe, the Captain and the Lieutenant standing in the gap and the American flag spread out before them. Elise, with Helen beside her, walked to a place just inside the circle and stood facing the Captain. In the Lieutenant's hands were the staff and hat, the shoulder knot, badge and neckerchief of the Tenderfoot Elise. She could not refrain from a glance at them. How she had longed to wear all those things; the insignia of everything she had learned to admire and look up to in the girls of America! "Salute!" said the Captain. All saluted Elise, who stood waiting for some order, she did not know what. "Forward!" said the Captain to Helen, and the two girls stepped to the center. Regarding Elise with a long, careful glance, and speaking carefully, so the little French girl should miss nothing of the full meaning of her words, the Captain asked: "Do you know what your _honor_ means?" "Yess," said Elise, finding her voice after what seemed to her an endless time. "Yess, it does mean that always I shall be trusted to be faithful and true and honorable." "Can I trust you," asked the Captain, "on your honor, to be loyal to God and your country, to help other people at all times, and to obey the Scout Law?" Elise, coached by Helen and Rosanna, made the half salute in unison with the whole company, as she answered, "I do promise on my honor to be loyal to God and my country, to help other people at all times and to obey the Scout Law." "I trust you on your honor to keep this promise," answered the Captain. The circle of girls listened with respectful and solemn interest. Well they realized that the vow being given was not an empty or idle one. They knew that it entailed hard work, self-denial, and many hardships. Yet they gloried in it, and silently renewed their own vows as they heard the Tenderfoot make her promises. "Invest!" came the Captain's next order. Stepping forward, the Lieutenant gave Elise her staff, and put the hat, handkerchief and knot on her, and smiled as Elise said, "I thank you!" in her pretty way. Then, at a whispered word, she marched up the line to the Captain who pinned on her trefoil badge and explained that it was an emblem of her Scout "life." If for any misbehavior, the trefoil or "life" must be taken away from her, she would become a dead Scout for the time the Captain ordered and for that time in disgrace. The new Scout was then initiated into all the secret passwords, a proceeding which filled Elise with despair; she felt that she would never be able to remember the queer words and phrases. Then with the ceremony of marching back to their proper patrols the ceremony was over, and in a moment the formal meeting was dismissed. The girls crowded around, all anxious to meet the new Tenderfoot and welcome her. They talked to her so hard that Elise felt her head whirl. She was glad to hear the voice of the little Captain suggesting a song. She handed a leaflet to Elise, but the girls knew the songs, and gathering in a circle they wanted to know which one to sing. "Sing _The Long, Long Line_," suggested the Captain, and the girls sang: THE LONG, LONG LINE (Tune: The Long, Long Trail) Recruiting song. Do you feel a little lonely? Are your friends too few? Would you like to join some jolly girls In the things you think and do? Don't you know your Country's waiting? Have you heard her call? See, the Scouts are crowding, crowding in, Where there's room for one and all! Chorus There's a long, long line a-growing, From north to south, east to west, There's a place awaiting in it, too, that you'll fill best. We are sure you'd like to join us If you knew what we can do And we'd like, O how we'd like to make a good Girl Scout of you. It certainly sounded sweet as the fresh young voices blended, and Elise thrilled as she listened. She was having such a good time! All the girls seemed so friendly and so sweet, with the exception of one girl who hung back and on whose face there rested the shadow of discontent and dissatisfaction. Elise found herself wondering about her; she seemed so out of place in that happy, merry throng. But none of the other girls appeared to notice that one of their number sat apart and occupied herself rather ostentatiously over a book. They were all so busy making the evening pass pleasantly for the charming new Tenderfoot who responded so prettily to their advances that no one spoke or looked at the silent Scout, but presently Elise noticed that the little Captain sat down beside her and compelled her attention. Even then the girl looked as though she preferred to be let alone. For a long while, the girls sat and told Elise about their work and play and the camping in summer and the delightful hikes all the year. Finally it came time to go home and some one called for another song. "Which shall it be, Elise?" asked Helen. "You choose one of the songs." "I see one follows the air of the _Old Colored Joe_," said Elise. "I do know that loving song. Please to sing that; and if I may, I will try to sing it also." "Of course we will sing that, you dear," laughed the tall young Lieutenant, and together they sang: WE'RE COMING (Tune: Old Black Joe) Camping Song. I Come where the lake lies gleaming in the sun; Come where the days are filled with work and fun. Come where the moon hangs out her evening lamp; The Scouts are trooping, trooping, trooping back to camp. Chorus We're coming! We're coming! To the lakes, the hills, the sea! Old Mother Nature calls her children--you and me. II Come where we learn the wisdom of the wood; Come where we prove that simple things are good, Come where we pledge allegiance to our land; America, you've called your daughters--here we stand. Chorus We're coming! We're coming! 'Til we spread from sea to sea, Our country needs us--wants us--calls us--you and me! "That is so _most_ lovely," said Elise as the song was finished, never for a moment realizing that her own pure and bell-like voice had added richness and beauty to the song. The other girls looked at each other and smiled. Here was indeed a find. Never had there come a Scout to the council with such a wonderful voice. They felt that the pretty young Tenderfoot was a great acquisition to their number. So they all crowded around and said good night,--all but the silent Scout who had not joined in the jollity. Elise and Rosanna and Helen filled the two automobiles that were waiting for them with the girls. Never, never had those big cars been so crowded. Certainly they had never held happier passengers. But there was no noise or boisterousness, no singing or whistling. The girls chatted in tones that were agreeably low and as each one reached her destination, she thanked Rosanna or Elise. When the last passenger in the Hargrave car had been set down, Elise leaned back in a corner and thought deeply. She was happy beyond words. To do good to someone every day; that was part of her pledge. Such an easy part! But it was hard _not_ to be good when everyone was so good to her. Then suddenly she thought of the sulky face of the girl at the meeting. All the time she was telling Mrs. Hargrave about the installation and the songs, and trying them over for her, she saw the dark, discontented face before her. She could not feel perfectly happy because somehow the face seemed to send her a message. "Help me; help me!" Elise heard in her soul. But what could she, a stranger, a girl who could scarcely speak the new language, what _could_ she do for that girl? And besides, why did she _need_ help? Elise, whose bright eyes saw everything, had noted the beautiful silk stockings, the texture of the black hair ribbon, and at the last, the expensive fur that edged her coat. Also a car had come for her, in which she went off alone. It was not poverty, at all events, decided Elise. She could walk; she was not lame like the poor little blond in the corner. As Elise thought it over, she puzzled more and more. She decided to ask Rosanna or Helen next day; then a better decision came to her. She would find out for herself. No one should tell her. Then if she made any mistake, why, the mistake would be hers. But the next day but one the plot thickened. She went over with Rosanna to see Miss Hooker about some Scout work, and as they stood on the steps waiting for the door to open, it did open with a jerk, and the girl Elise had been worrying about dashed down the steps and into her limousine. Her face was disfigured with tears. "Dear me!" said Rosanna. "What do you suppose has happened to Lucy Breen? She has been crying." "Assuredly. The _petite pauvre_ one!" answered Elise sadly. Rosanna with her usual directness asked Miss Hooker the moment they entered what was the matter with Lucy. Miss Hooker hesitated. "You really ought not ask a question like that, Rosanna," she said finally, "but perhaps I ought to tell you. You will all have to know." "Please _don't_ tell me, Miss Hooker," Rosanna begged with a deep flush. "I thought perhaps someone had died or something like that." "No, but for a week Lucy must be a dead Scout herself." "How _awful_!" cried both girls, and then were silent. "I prefer not to tell you why just now, but of course this will not make you shun her. You must show all the kindness and consideration that you can for her, and be with her all you can." More than that Miss Hooker did not seem to want to say, and the girls, saddened and quiet, finished their errand and left. A day or two later, going with Mrs. Hargrave to the Red Cross rooms down town, Elise thought she saw Lucy Breen shrink out of sight behind some portières at the back of the store that the Red Cross used as a sales room. Elise acted on a generous impulse. She went back through the store looking at one thing and another until she in turn came to the portières. Behind them was a space used for a sort of store-room for articles brought into the shop, and as Elise looked curiously through the curtains as though wondering what lay beyond, she saw Lucy standing in a corner, crowded against the wall. Elise nodded gaily. "Are you what they call making the sort of things in here, Lucy?" she cried. "Is it not fun to see what the good kind people give away?" She stepped into the store-room as she spoke, smiling and nodding. "Yes, it is droll, some of the things," she chattered on, as though Lucy was doing her share in the conversation. Finally, however, like a little clock, Elise ran down. She could not think of a single thing to say further, and she trailed off, looking shyly into Lucy's dark face. Lucy was smiling a set and bitter smile. "Don't you think you had better get out of this and leave me?" she asked. "Perhaps you don't know that I have lost my badge. I shall be a dead Scout for a week, and I don't care in the least whether I ever wear it again or not." Elise came close and laid a hand on Lucy's shoulder, but the girl shook it off. "_Don't!_" she said pettishly. "I knew that you had resigned your badge for the so small time of a week," said Elise gently, "but one week soon passes." "Do you know _why_ I lost it?" asked Lucy harshly. "No," said Elise, "and I do not so much care. That is for you to know, and our dear Captain. I am just so so sorry that you are unhappy. But you will be happy again. Always unhappiness goes away. We do not forget, but it ceases to wound. And if the fault makes you so unhappy, why, certainly you will never, never so do again; will you, dear Lucy?" To her surprise and dismay, Lucy turned and, hiding her face in her arms, leaned against the cracked old wall and sobbed. "Oh, I _am_ unhappy!" she cried. "I am unhappy, and I don't know what to do! Sometimes I think I will run away!" "Oh, don't do that; don't do that!" cried Elise. "Think of your dear mama and your father. Oh, you could never have a fault that would make you need to do anything that would make them so unhappy!" Lucy laughed her bitter little laugh. "I think I will tell you what has happened," she said, "and then you can see just how I feel." "Can you not tell to someone more wise than I?" asked Elise, her dismay growing. "I will be so glad to listen, but for advice, I am so ignorant, so what you call it? I speak your English so poorly, that maybe I say to you the wrong thing." "You needn't say anything," said Lucy. "You were so good to come and speak to me, and I want to talk to someone. I had advice from Miss Hooker but I shall not take it." "Was it not good advice?" asked Elise, who thought every word that Miss Hooker uttered was a pearl of wisdom. "I suppose so," said Lucy with a sneer, "but she does not understand. Oh, Elise, I shall _die_, I am so unhappy." "No," said Elise softly, "you will not die so. If it could be, I would be dead long since but I am not, and I am happy--so very, very happy just as my most dear ones who are dead would wish me to be. So it will be with you." "I want to talk to you," said Lucy. "Let us sit here then," said Elise, "where no one comes. There is a what you call 'meeting' which my maman is here to attend. It goes on in the upstairs, and she told me it would meet for an hour or two. Tell me all your woe." She pulled Lucy down on a pile of velvet curtains and patting her hot little hand, said softly, "I wait." CHAPTER X "When I was only two years old, my real mamma died," Lucy commenced, "and papa's sister, who was a great deal older than papa, came to take care of us. I had a brother five years older than I. Aunt Mabel was so kind to us, and let us do just as we pleased about everything. I don't see why things could not have gone on like that always, because as soon as I grew up I intended to take charge of the house and run it for papa. I am thirteen now so it wouldn't have been long before I could have done it. But when I was ten years old, my brother died, and after that, papa stayed away from the house all he could, although Auntie Mabel was always talking to him about his duty to me. "Well, one day, when I was eleven years old, papa came home, and the very minute I saw his face I knew something had happened. "'Goodness, papa,' I said, 'you look as though you had had good news!' 'I have, my dear,' he said, and then somehow as I looked at him I had such a funny feeling. All at once I didn't want to _know_ what made him look so glad. So I just sat there and said nothing. "'Don't you want to know what it is?' he said, and I said, 'I don't know whether I do or not.' "Papa came over and put his head down on my shoulder the way he used to when he called me his little comforter, and said, 'Oh, yes, Lucy, you want to know! Please say you want to know what your daddy has to tell you.' "So I said, 'All right,' and Elise, he was going to get married! Oh, I just hated it! He told me lots about the lady. She was from Boston, and that was why I had never seen her, and had never heard about it. She had never been in Louisville. He said she was beautiful, and she did look nice in the picture he had in his pocket case, and he said she was just as lovely as she could be. I just sat there and let him talk, and finally he said, 'Well, chicken, what do you think about it?' I don't know what made me say what I did. Somehow it popped out before I thought. I said, 'Are you sure she isn't marrying you for your money?' "And papa sort of stiffened up and looked hard at me, and finally he said in a queer voice, 'Good Lord, how old are you?' I said, 'I am eleven,' and he said, 'Well, you sound like Mrs. Worldly Wiseman, aged fifty. I suppose you will feel better if I say that the lady has more money than I have, and that I will be lucky if people do not claim that _I_ have been the fortune hunter.' "'Well, what _is_ she going to marry you for?' I asked. 'She says she loves me,' papa said. I said, 'We don't want her here! We are getting along all right.' Oh, I didn't mean to be so ugly, but somehow I _hated_ to have papa marry anyone, and I didn't know this lady. So papa went off awfully cross at me and the next person was Auntie Mabel. Papa had told me first; he thought he ought to, and then he went up and told Aunt Mabel. She came down pretty soon. I was right there in the big chair, trying to imagine what it would be like to have a stranger in the house. "Auntie said, 'Well, Lucy, what do you think of the news?' I said, 'It is nothing to us; we can keep in our rooms most of the time.' "'I can't,' said Aunt Mabel, 'because I shall leave when she comes. Not that I have the slightest objection, but all the same off I go. I knew it would happen sooner or later, but Henry waited so long that I hoped he was going to let well enough alone. But men are all alike!' And she _did_ go, Elise, the very day before papa brought the lady home. And I _couldn't_ go because there was no place for me to go and Auntie wouldn't take me with her because she said it would make papa angry. So I had to stay whether I wanted to or not. It was perfectly awful!" "Poor, poor Lucee!" murmured Elise, patting the hand she held. "I was expecting to see a lady 'most as old as Auntie, and papa came up the steps with somebody _young_. Why, she was _awfully_ young, and had as much powder on her nose as anybody. I was looking through the curtains, and when I saw them coming, I ran upstairs and hid. Papa hunted and called, but I wouldn't answer, and I heard him getting angry, and then she said, 'Don't mind, Henry; it is the most natural thing in the world. Let me find her, I know just where to look,' and papa said in the silliest way, 'Go ahead, darling, the house is yours, and the child too if you will have such a bad one.' "Well, Elise, she came up those stairs and straight to the table I was under, as though someone had told her! The cover went down to the floor, and she lifted it up, and said 'Coop!' but I came out crosser than ever, and we had a horrid time. "So that is the way it went. Worse and worse all the time. Papa was not cross with me because she wouldn't let him be, and I felt pretty mean to think a stranger had to tell my own father how to treat me. At first she tried to act so sweet to me, and used to want to play with me. I told her I thought it was silly, but she said she had lots of brothers and sisters, and they always romped around together and had a fine time, and she said if I would only be friends we could have such larks. I told her I hoped I was polite and all she said was to wonder where I got my disposition. "At first they used to make me stay down with them at night after dinner, but by and by I was allowed to go upstairs. I said I wanted to study. I always kept a study book open on the table, and would go to reading it as soon as they came up. Papa used to come in once in awhile, and she was always asking me if she could help me with my lessons. She said she used to help her brothers. "After a year, one of the brothers came to visit. He was a real nice boy, and I would have liked him only he was so silly about her; used to want to be with her all the time, and put his arm around her and all that! We had a real good time though, and I thought that I had been real nice to her before him until the day he went home. I was in the library, and he came in. I was just going to ask him to put his autograph in my album when he said: 'Gee, you are a disagreeable little mutt! My sister would half kill me for saying it, but honest, I don't see how she stands you!' "Of course I just walked out of the room. I knew then that she had been telling things about me. And I knew that must be the reason why papa was so different to me." "But _was_ he?" asked Elise wonderingly. "Yes, he was, and Miss Hooker says it is all my fault. I had been coldly polite to her for a good while before that. I read about a girl who was abused by a stepmother and the girl was too noble to abuse her in return. She was just 'coldly polite,' the book said, and so was I. But after that horrid boy went home I let myself be as mean as I could." Elise nodded. "I saw it in your face," she said. "And the more I thought of it, the more I was able to _act_ ugly. It is so funny, Elise, the way she makes everybody like her. Papa just gets worse all the time, and the servants _adore_ her, and she is so popular with all the people who come to the house. She makes them all like her--all but me." "We will talk about that later," said Elise. Lucy sighed. "Well, things have been getting worse and worse, but I think we have both tried to keep it from papa. We hate each other, but we don't want him to know how bad things are in the house. Papa is not happy, though. Oh, he has talked and talked to me and threatened to send me to school, and I always tell him I wish he would. But the other day the worst happened. Papa had gone to the office, and I was reading in the library, and she was walking around and around, fussing and singing under her breath and sort of acting happy. It made me so mad. Presently she saw me looking at her, and she said, 'Don't you wonder why I am singing?' and I said, 'No, I had not noticed.' She went right on: 'I have had some good news, wonderful news, and I wonder if you would like to hear it, Lucy?' "I said, 'I am not at all interested,' and went right on looking at my book. She came over and leaned down on the table close to my face, and stared and stared at me. She said, 'Look at me, you bad, difficult, cruel child, look at me and tell me why you are bound to hate me so!' I never saw anyone look so angry. Then her face changed and got pleasant again, and she said, 'What have I _done_? Your own mother, if she can see this house and its unhappy inmates, knows that I have tried to make friends with you.' "I remembered how furious the girl in the book was when her stepmother spoke of her mother, and I raised my hand and slapped her." "Oh, oh, oh!" cried Elise, covering her eyes. "The poor, poor lady!" Lucy went doggedly on. "Of course I had no business to do that. She went to her room, and stayed there all day, and when papa came home he went right up. I was on my way to my room, and I heard him say, 'I don't believe it is a headache at all. I think Lucy must have been annoying you,' and she said, 'No,' and papa said, 'I shall send that child away to school.' And she said, 'No, give us one more chance. I am going to see Miss Hooker, her Scout Captain, and see if her influence is strong enough to make Lucy see things in the right way.' As soon as I heard that I made up my mind to see the Captain first, so I went over and that was the day I saw you on the steps. We had had a long, long talk and she said I was all wrong and took away my trefoil. So here I am a dead Scout, and I am so unhappy that I don't know what to do and I am going to run away. I want you to have my pony. I am going to send it over to your house tomorrow." "No, no, no!" cried Elise. "Everything is wrong; so wrong! Oh, let me think! That poor, poor lady! I am so, so sorry for her." "Sorry for _her_!" cried Lucy. "There is no need to be sorry for _her_! I am the one to be sorry for. _She_ has everything." "Why has she?" asked Elise. "She has nothing that you have not. She has your most dear papa; so have you. You both have a most lovely home, everything beautiful, friends, comfort. You are safe in a great land, where no enemy may come and keel all you love. You have both the same things. You share them." She sat thinking. "Yes, she is the one to be sorry for, because she is so disappoint. When she go to marry your _père_, she have something promised that she never gets and so she is full of mournsomeness." "She has everything papa can get for her," said Lucy bitterly. "I wish you could see the pearls he gave her the other day." "Pearls!" said Elise scornfully. "What are pearls? He promised her something only _you_ could give her, and now she has it not, and she is sad, and you are sad; everybody sad. What do you call her?" "I don't call her anything," said Lucy stubbornly. "I wait until she looks at me and then I say what I want to say." "Foolish, foolish one," said Elise, "That is what no one likes. Besides, it is what you call rude not to speak the name. Most rude!" She saw a frown deepen on Lucy's brow and gently pressed her hand. "You wanted to tell me, did you not?" she said softly. "Now I want to tell you what I have not so many times told because I cannot speak of it unless my heart feels like it does bleed. I have had _such_ sorrows, and have seen such dreadfulness; I have been so cold, and hongry, and frightened. I have lived in the wet underground for so long time that all this makes a differentness in me from you. Something in me feels most old and weary. I keep it shut up because my darling Maman Hargrave wants me a happy child, and I want it for myself, but I do feel the oldness when I see others unhappy when they could so easily be full of joy. No, let me talk!" she added, as Lucy tried to speak. "I must say this, I feel it on me, to save that poor lady her happiness. I shall be sorry for you some other day, but now I am most sad for her. When she marry your papa, she think all the time that she is going to have a most sweet daughter because that is how your dear papa would tell her of you, and then what happens? You know. "Oh, Lucee, dear, _dear_ Lucee, there is one thing you must give to her, right now today quick." "What is that?" said Lucy, startled by Elise's vehemence. "_LOVE!_" cried Elise, her sweet voice thrilling. "Love! So easy, so sweet! Please, my Lucee, do not turn away. I know I am right on account of the oldness in my heart. That tells me. Think how most glad your own mother is to have the pretty one taking such good care of your papa and of you. Does she select your clothes?" "Yes," said Lucy. "They are always the prettiest," said Elise. "No other girl is so chic--what you call stunning. And so modest, so quiet. And you yourself say everyone but you loves her. You too must love her, and the best of all. You _must_! You are a Scout, and so you do always the right thing. Where is she now?" "Home, I suppose. I came down to bring some of my last winter's dresses. Oh, Elise, even if I could, it is too late. I _can't_ go back to the beginning again and start over." "Of course not," said Elise wisely. "It is a most bad waste of time when we try going back to beginnings. It is better to start right from here. _Anywhere_ is the best place to start. When you go home you start then! You start here by making some new sweet thoughts in your heart. Dear Lucee, please try! Please, for the sake of your Elise who also has to try to be always happy and not remember those blackness behind her. Won't you, please? I know I am right. Will you try to give her love?" Lucy, the tears pouring down her cheeks, leaned her head against the shoulder near her. "I don't see how I _can_," she said huskily. "But I will try. I am so sick of everything the way it is." "Of course you are!" said Elise. "One is always seek of wrong. It makes a blackness over everything." "What will I do? How will I begin?" "I cannot tell you," said Elise. "You will know what to do. Something will tell you. Something always tells. I think it is _le bon Dieu_. Just trust and you will know what to do and to say. Come, let us go. I hear the meeting talking itself down the stairs. Is your car waiting?" "Yes," said Lucy dully as she allowed Elise to lead her through the store. "Oh, Elise, I _don't_ love her, and I don't know what to do!" "It is because of the hatefulness you put in your heart long ago that you do not love her," said the wise, sad little girl who had suffered beyond her years. She stood at the door of the limousine and smiled at the little girl who sank back so wearily. "Don't forget it is _now_ we make those beginnings. And you owe her what your dear papa promised her, your love." She stepped back with a wave of her hand as the machine started away. Lucy's heart throbbed violently as she approached her home. Her one hope was that Mrs. Breen was out, so the moment might be delayed. But as she passed the door of the library she saw Mrs. Breen lying in a low lounging chair. How pale she looked! Lucy was quite startled to see the look of suffering and weakness on the beautiful young face. She had been too blind to notice what had been worrying her father of late. Was it _her_ fault? Had _her_ actions brought her self-made enemy so low? Lucy was shocked. She went up and put away her wraps. Still she did not know what to do or what to say. Twice she passed the library door. No thought came to her. She went in, not speaking, and selected a book at random from the nearest shelf. Mrs. Breen did not speak but her great blue eyes seemed to follow Lucy appealingly. Then Lucy found her courage. What she said was rough and crude but it came from the heart--an honest statement and appeal for tolerance and understanding. She came, clutching her book, and stood facing Mrs. Breen. Her voice sounded so husky and shaken that she did not know it for hers. "Mamma," she said, stumbling over the unfamiliar word. "Mamma, you know I do not like you, but I am going to try to love you!" And then, clasping her book with both hands, she fled. CHAPTER XI Years had passed before Mrs. Breen and Lucy ever found the courage to speak of that day when Lucy had hurried from the room, leaving Mrs. Breen too surprised to follow her, or even speak. She sat thinking, so glad and so happy and so proud of the courage shown by Lucy. She heard the front door close softly and was not surprised, a little later, to have one of the maids come and tell her that Miss Lucy had telephoned that she was at Mrs. Hargrave's, and would stay for supper with Elise. Mrs. Breen sat thinking for an hour, then the right thought came to her. She hastened to the telephone and had a long talk with her husband, and after a good deal of argument, she went to her room, packed a small trunk, ordered the car, had a talk with the housekeeper, and went out. She drove to her husband's office, and he ushered her into his private room. "Now what is all this?" he demanded. "I told you over the telephone what happened in the library," Mrs. Breen said. "My dear, I am _so_ happy and so proud of Lucy! But there will be the most distressing awkwardness for a little, unless something out of the ordinary happens to help her out. Now I have never been away without you since we were married. So I have decided to give the child a chance to regain her poise and strengthen her new resolutions. Something has changed her, and I am contented to accept it without question until the time comes when she will tell me of her own accord. I will go home for a week, and you must spend all the time you can with Lucy. And when you feel like it, speak well of me." "That will be a hard job," said her husband, smiling. "I suppose so," said Mrs. Breen. "Another thing, to keep her interest in me, if you should decide to repaper my room and want to _surprise_ me, I would be perfectly satisfied with Lucy's taste." So when Lucy came in that night, dreading the next step toward the right, she found only her father reading under the library light. "Hello, Donna Lucia," he said, looking up. "Did you know that we are orphans?" "No," said Lucy. "What has happened?" "Mamma decided very suddenly that she had to go home to Boston to attend to some matters, and she did not have time to telephone you or call around at Mrs. Hargrave's. But she managed to stop in at the office, and she has left me in your charge." Lucy heaved a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, she would have a little time to herself anyway. A couple of days later Mr. Breen approached the subject of the new wall-paper. He merely _approached_ it, because at the first mention Lucy fairly flung herself on it and appropriated it. The very thing, she decided. She thought that room was about as shabby as it could be. Could she select the paper? Of course she could! She knew exactly what mamma would like. At her use of the word mamma, Mr. Breen's heart leaped. He had been a patient, but very unhappy man, and the thought that his little household might become united was the greatest happiness he could imagine. So he grumbled out that he was glad of that, because he never could tell the _least_ thing about the silly strips of paper they showed in the stores, and Lucy could go ahead and get whatever she wanted. But the following morning, when a van backed up to the door and a couple of men commenced to take away all the prettiest wicker furniture in the house he demanded some explanation. "Why, they have to be painted for mamma's new room," said the practical Miss Breen. "You said I could go ahead, and I have gone!" "All our furniture has gone too, I should say," said Mr. Breen. "Just the best of the wicker," answered Lucy. "I thought and thought all last night, and I have decided just what would be the _loveliest_ thing in the world for her, with her violet blue eyes and golden hair. So when you were shaving I telephoned for the men to come and take the chairs and tables and that chaise-longue and they are all going to be painted. "And today you had better write her that you think it would be a good thing, as long as she is there, to stay another week. Don't let her suspect, but _don't_ let her come home." "Very well," said Mr. Breen with a twinkle in his eye, but outwardly very meek. "Just as you say. Send the bills to me." "Oh, I was going to," said Lucy with the happiest laugh he had heard from her for months. Mr. Breen did not come home for luncheon, and every day Lucy managed to have Elise or Rosanna or Helen take that meal with her. Lucy worked like mad and nearly wore the workmen out, she hurried them so. Mrs. Breen decided to make a longer stay, but even then there was but little time, because Lucy had decided that all the woodwork must be re-enameled. When that was done and the paper on, she cast aside the old rug with scorn, and took the three girls downtown to buy others. As the days went on, Lucy found that her point of view was wholly changed. She was so intent on the beautiful surprise she was planning that it seemed to sweep her mind clean of all the dark and unworthy feelings that had filled it. She even wrote to Mrs. Breen at a suggestion from Elise, a pleasant friendly letter, ending, "With love, Lucy." And to her surprise Mrs. Breen answered the letter at once, with a long one all about her visit, and enclosing funny little cartoons of each one of the family, including the boy who had spoken his mind to Lucy. Strange to say, Lucy was able to acknowledge the truth of the young man's remark. "Some day," said Lucy to herself, "if this turns out all right, I will tell him that he was _perfectly right_." Lucy was coming to think, with a sense of deep chagrin, that she herself had been the one in the wrong. And being an honest girl and wanting very humbly and deeply to live up to the pledge of the Girl Scouts, she was growing most anxious to make good her faults. So she drove the painters and paperhangers and upholsterers almost wild, and had the happiness of seeing the beautiful room all settled and in order two days before Mrs. Breen was expected. It had a hard time staying settled however, because Lucy spent all her time after school trying things in new places to see if they looked any better. Her father vowed that he would go up and nail the things down, but he was just as proud and pleased as Lucy. With all the planning and plotting, and various jaunts to the shops together, and to some movies and once to the theatre, Lucy and her father had entered a new epoch in their lives. They too seemed to have forgotten the past. As Elise said, they found that they could make a beginning anywhere. And once begun, they found that it was like a door that had opened into a beautiful place full of happiness and sunshine--a door that closed softly behind them and shut out all the despair and gloom on the other side. When the day came for Mrs. Breen's return, Mr. Breen insisted on Lucy coming to meet her, and Lucy, in whom some of the old dread seemed struggling to awake, went silently. But when she was suddenly caught in a warm embrace, before even her father was greeted, and when a sweet voice said, "Oh, what a _long_ two weeks it has been, Lucy! _Do_ say you have missed me!" Lucy felt that all was indeed well with her world. Mrs. Breen had brought another brother with her: a shy, awkward boy, evidently frightened to death of Lucy, a fact which of course set her completely at her ease. They drove home, and Lucy and her father dogged Mrs. Breen's footsteps up the stairs when she said she would go and take off her things. Not for worlds would they have missed seeing her first look at the newly decorated room. And it was worth all the trouble to witness her delight and appreciation. So Happiness and Love and Understanding came into the Breen home. Lucy wore her trefoil with a new gratitude and a new understanding. Elise felt a happiness that she had thought she could never feel, for she had helped a sister Scout through a dark and dreadful place in her life. Mrs. Breen was so happy that she sang and sang all the day long, and when one day a baby boy set up a lusty roar in the beautiful room that Lucy had made, it was Lucy who named him, and Lucy who assumed such airs of superiority in speaking of "my baby brother" that the girls grew to avoid the subject of children in general as it was sure to bring from Lucy some anecdote to prove the vast superiority and beauty of the Breen baby. Rosanna was happy too. Uncle Robert had been away longer than Rosanna liked. She was surprised to find how much she missed Uncle Robert. And much as she loved him, and wanted him to be happy, she decided that it was really a good thing that he did _not_ care for girls. The various uncles who did like girls she noticed had a way of marrying one of them and leaving home for good. That was a poor plan, thought Rosanna, as she felt the silence in the big old house. No number of girls could make the whistly noises Uncle Robert could when he ran upstairs three steps at a time or dashed down again. No one but Uncle Robert could tootle so entrancingly on the flute, or pick out such funny records for the Victrola. No one in the world would think to bring one a box of candy and leave it hidden in his hat, or just outside the door for one to find after dinner. No other Uncle would remember a little girl's birthday once a month with a new dollar bill. Rosanna, driven by a real loneliness to confide in someone, spent much time with Miss Hooker and while Rosanna honestly thought she was attending strictly to Scout business, the conversation was sure to slip around to Uncle Robert. Miss Hooker never appeared to join Rosanna in her talk, but it was surprising what a good listener she proved to be. The only time she said anything was when Rosanna would enlarge on the way Uncle Robert felt about girls. Then Miss Hooker would always assert that she thought he was perfectly right, because she herself thought very little of men. Silly creatures she said they were, at which loyal Rosanna would always declare, "But Uncle Robert isn't." Miss Hooker would answer, "_Possibly_ not," in a manner that insinuated that perhaps he wasn't, and perhaps he _was_, but Rosanna let it go. However, Rosanna was happy because Uncle Robert had written her that he was coming home in a day or two, and that she might get ready to look in the left hand pocket of his overcoat, and whatever was there she could have. When she told Miss Hooker she was grieved to hear her say that she was not sure that she would be around to see the surprise, because she was planning to go away herself, and wasn't it too bad? "I should say it was!" said Rosanna. "Why, then you won't see Uncle Robert either!" "No," said Miss Hooker, "but it really doesn't make any difference. I don't suppose I am any more anxious to see him than he is to see me." When Uncle Robert appeared and came up the front steps three at a time as usual, Rosanna was at the door to meet him. She jumped into his arms and hugged him until he begged for mercy. As she let him go, she happened to think of the left hand pocket, and had to think which was the left. While she was deciding, she heard a funny noise, and there in the pocket was a fuzzy head. The most adorable little head! It was a tiny baby collie, looking like a small bear. Rosanna had him out in a second, and Uncle Robert left her with her new pet while he went to speak to his mother. That night he came up to show Rosanna how to put her puppy to bed for the night, and when the little fellow at last snuggled down in his basket, and went to sleep, Uncle Robert settled down in his favorite chair and lighted a cigarette and wanted to hear all the news. "What shall I start with?" asked Rosanna, listening to the soft breathing of the little collie. "Oh, it doesn't matter," said Uncle Robert. "Begin with Miss--er Gwenny." "Why, you needn't call her _Miss_," said Rosanna. "You never used to! I thought first you were going to say begin with Miss Hooker." "Ridiculous!" laughed Uncle Robert, cocking his eye up at the ceiling. "Begin with Gwenny, of course." "Well," said Rosanna, "we have only had two letters from her mother. One was soon after you went away, and said that Gwenny was very comfortable indeed, and had a fine room, and was making a great many friends. The doctor couldn't tell when he would operate, because he would have to take Gwenny any time she happened to be at her best. That was about all of that letter. The next one was just the other day. And Uncle Robert, they have operated! They telegraphed for Doctor Rick, and he is there now. But Mrs. Harter wrote that the operation was over and Doctor Branshaw thinks it will be perfectly successful." "Well, that is perfectly splendid!" said Uncle Robert. "Did she tell you how Gwenny stood it?" "Yes. She said for a couple of hours they were afraid her heart was going to stop, but that Doctor Branshaw stood right over her, and had everything ready to start it again if they could. He stayed with her all night. You ought to hear the way Mrs. Harter talks about him. She thinks he is a saint, as well as the greatest doctor in the whole world." "He assays pretty well toward solid gold," said Uncle Robert. "Mrs. Harter says they don't know when they will be able to get home, but already Gwenny sleeps better and is beginning to want to eat. She never did, you know." "That is certainly fine news," said Uncle Robert. "Anything else happened while I was away?" "You know that Lucy Breen?" asked Rosanna. Uncle Robert shook his head. "She has turned out to be a real nice girl, and Helen and Elise and I go over there a lot. And her mother (it's really her stepmother, only Lucy is mad if you call her that) is perfectly lovely. If you could only marry _her_, Uncle Robert!" "Thank you, Rosanna, but Mr. Breen looks husky and he might object." "Oh, that was a joke," said Rosanna. "Like the time you said you pretty near loved Miss Hooker. I wish you could have heard her laugh when I told her that." "Oh, you told her, did you?" said Uncle Robert. "It was so funny I had to." "What did she say?" asked Uncle Robert, sitting up suddenly. "She said she thought you were the most amusing person she had ever met and that no one could possibly take you seriously. I agreed with her." "I'll bet you did!" said Uncle Robert. "She has gone away," said Rosanna as an afterthought. "She went today. I told her I was sorry she wouldn't be able to see what you brought me, and wouldn't see you either, but she said it didn't make any difference as she wasn't any more anxious to see you than she supposed you were to see her." Uncle Robert laughed a short, queer laugh. "Well, Rosanna, just you watch what happens now! I will just pay her up for that." "What do you care?" asked Rosanna. "I don't see what difference it makes. She likes you all right; she thinks you are so funny." "I will show her how funny I can be," said Uncle Robert. "Where has she gone?" "To Atlantic City," said Rosanna. "I may see her there," said Uncle Robert. "The doctor says the sea air would be great for me." "What ails you?" said Rosanna anxiously. "You look perfectly well." "A little trouble with my heart," said Uncle Robert soberly. "It acts like the very deuce, Rosanna. Part of the time it feels sort of--sort of, well, sort of _empty_, and then it has spells when I get to thinking hard and beats as fast as it can. It is awful, Rosanna." "I should say it was!" said Rosanna, "Oh, Uncle Robert, _do_ try to get it well! If anything should happen to you, I would think it was that benefit. You had to work so hard." "I think myself that had something to do with it," said Robert, "but of course I only did my duty, and I don't blame a soul." CHAPTER XII There was a long silence during which Rosanna studied her uncle closely. She even forgot the puppy. What if anything should happen to Uncle Robert? As she looked at him it flashed over her that she cared for him with all her heart. She would not know what to do without him. She felt very sad, and when Uncle Robert looked up and surprised the worried expression on her face he laughed, and said: "Cheer up, sweetness! I am all right, and I want you to promise me that you won't tell mother what I have just told you. I don't want to worry her." "I promise, Uncle Robert; and I always keep my promises," said Rosanna. "That is a good thing," said Uncle Robert. "I wish I had known that before. I would have had you make me some." But he wouldn't explain that remark, and soon went out, not seeming to care for the rest of the news which, being all about the Scouts, Rosanna had left until the last as the most important. The Girl Scouts were very busy now getting ready for Christmas. There was a cast-iron rule in that particular troop that all Christmas presents should be finished and wrapped up three weeks before Christmas. So with all their own work well out of the way, they were busy as bees making tarleton stockings and collecting toys and dolls for the particular orphanage they had assumed the care of. Louisville is full of orphanages, and every year the girls were in the habit of choosing one of them for their attention. They dressed a tree, and secured presents for each of the children. These presents were often dolls and toys that had been cast aside by more fortunate children, but the girls took them and mended and painted and dressed them until you would have been surprised at the result. At least they never offered anything that looked shabby. The stockings were filled with popcorn and candy, and a big golden orange gladdened each little heart. Rosanna worked harder than anyone. School went right on as it always does whether or not Girl Scouts are busy at other things, and every spare moment was spent with the dear little puppy that her uncle had brought her. Mr. Horton still complained to Rosanna about his heart, but was unable to go east as he had planned. He often asked Rosanna if Miss Hooker had returned, although Rosanna had told him a good many times that she did not expect to come back before spring. But news came from Gwenny. She was so much better that she could come back. As Miss Hooker was away, and Uncle Robert always seemed to have time to do things, the Girl Scouts made him a committee to go and pay the doctor and the hospital bills, and see that Gwenny and her mother reached home safely. Uncle Robert dashed off to Cincinnati that very night. The next day he returned without Gwenny, and with a queer look on his face asked Rosanna to ask their Lieutenant, who was in charge of the troop, to call a meeting that very afternoon or evening. Rosanna called Miss Jamieson up, and between them they were able to get word to all the girls. Rosanna was as excited as any of them, because Uncle Robert would not tell her what the matter was. When the girls all gathered in Rosanna's sitting-room, he came in, looking very mysterious and important. "I have news for you girls--quite remarkable news, I think. To begin, I went down to Cincinnati and found Gwenny so improved that I actually did not know her. Of course she is still in a wheel chair, and will have to stay there most of the time for the next year but every day she goes through certain exercises, and soon will begin to take a few steps. Doctor Branshaw assured me that she will some day be as well as any of you. They have taught Mrs. Harter just how to rub her, and help her with her exercises. "After I had seen Gwenny I went down and paid the hospital bill. It came to a little over two hundred dollars. I have the items in my pocket. Then I went to Doctor Branshaw's office, and asked him for his bill. He said, 'Sit down. I want to have a talk with you.' Well, girls, he wanted to know all about you, and the work you are doing, and how many there are of you in the troop that is taking care of Gwenny. I told him about the benefit, and he said he had heard about that from Gwenny, and her mother as well. "I didn't want to bore him, so after we had talked you pretty well out, and over, I asked him again for his bill, and he said, 'Horton, there is no bill.' I said, 'Well, sir, whenever you will have it made out, I will give a check for it. The money the girls made is banked in my name for the sake of convenience.' "'How much is there?' asked the doctor. I thought he didn't want to charge over the amount we have so I told him. He fiddled with a pencil for awhile, then he said: "'Horton, I make the rich pay, and pay well, but I do not intend to ask those girls of yours a cent for this operation.'" A great "O-o-o-o-h!" went up from the girls. Uncle Robert went on. "Then the doctor said, before I could thank him, 'I wonder if the girls would mind if I make a suggestion,' and I assured him that you would like it very much. "'Well then,' said the doctor, 'here it is. Gwenny will require a great deal of care for many months to come, rubbing and so forth. Why don't those good girls take the money and buy a little house somewhere on the edge of the city, or on a quiet street, where the Harters could live and where Mrs. Harter would not have to work so hard to earn the rent? From what she says, the boys earn nearly enough to feed the family. What do you think of that?' "I told him that I thought it was a splendid idea, and would see what could be done about it. Then he made the finest suggestion of all. He said that another week in the hospital would be of great benefit to Gwenny, and why didn't I come home and see you and if you all approve, we can buy a small house and settle it and Gwenny can be moved right there." A shriek of delight went up, and everyone commenced to talk at once. "Order, order!" cried Mr. Horton. He could scarcely make himself heard. At last after much talking, it was settled that Mr. Horton should look at a number of houses, and when he had seen them he was to select the three that seemed most promising and take all the girls to see them. But he stipulated that a couple of older ladies should look them over with him, and Mrs. Breen and Mrs. Hargrave were chosen by unanimous vote. "Now, girls, how are you going to thank the Doctor?" he asked. No one knew and finally Rosanna suggested that it would be well to think it over. So they all trooped home, Uncle Robert promising to make a report at the end of three days. It was a long three days, but it passed finally, and Uncle Robert appeared with an account of three little bungalows that seemed all that he had hoped for, and more. One of them he thought was the one for them to take, as it was right on a good part of Preston Street where the children could easily get to school. It was brand new, and had never been occupied. Indeed it was not finished but would be within two or three days. After the girls had seen the three houses, Mr. Horton said he would tell them which one Mrs. Hargrave and Mrs. Breen liked the best. Of course all the girls piled into the automobiles of the girls who had them, and made the rounds, and equally of course they all decided on the Preston Street house which was the very one that Mrs. Hargrave and Mrs. Breen had liked. It was all done except the plumbing in the kitchen, so Mr. Horton went right over to see Minnie who was still keeping house for the Harter children. Minnie heard all about the new plan, and Mr. Horton asked: "Now, Minnie, do you feel like moving these people all over there, before Mrs. Harter and Gwenny come home, or is it too much to ask you?" "Just you fetch me a moving van the day you want we should move," said Minnie, "and I will do the rest." She cast an eye around the dilapidated, shabby room. "My, my! What a piece of good luck for the _deservingest_ woman! I tell you, Mr. Robert, the time I've been here has been a lesson to me. The way she has scrimped, and saved, and patched, and turned, and mended, and went without! My young man and me on his wages ought to put away fifty dollars every month of our lives. And so I told him we was going to do. Of course I will move 'em! And Mr. Robert, if it was so I could go around and see the house, perhaps I could tell better how to pack." "That's right, Minnie. Suppose we go over now," said Mr. Horton. Minnie was overjoyed when she saw the little house, and at once picked out a room for Gwenny. The other children could double up, but Gwenny should have a room to herself. Minnie seemed thoughtful all the way home, and finally said, "Mr. Horton, up in your garret, there is a pile of window curtains that don't fit anywhere, and they will never be used. I have handled 'em a million times while I worked for your mother. And there's a square table with a marble top that your mother can't abide the sight of, and a couple of brass beds put up there when they went out of date. If your mother would spare any of those things I could fix that house so tasty." "I don't suppose she wants any of them," said Robert heartily. "I will speak to her about them when I go home, and after supper Rosanna and I will take a joy ride over here and tell you what her answer is." The answer was that Mrs. Horton was only too glad to get rid of the things Minnie had mentioned, and suggested that before settling the house Minnie might go through the attic and see if there was anything else that she thought would be of service. Mrs. Horton, knowing that Minnie would know better than she could, just what the Harters would appreciate, refrained from making any suggestions; and Minnie found many treasures in the attic. There were portières, and a soft low couch, the very thing for Gwenny to rest on in the pleasant sitting-room, and the beds, and a table and two bureaus. And she found two carpet rugs. She set Mary and Myron to work with a pot of cream colored paint, and in two days the shabby old dining-room table and shabbier chairs were all wearing bright new coats. As soon as ever she could, she called on Mr. Robert for the moving van, and moved everything over to the new house. Settling was a joy, there were so many to help. All the Girl Scouts wanted to do something, and between them they outfitted Gwenny's dresser (a walnut one that was put through the paint test and came out pretty as could be). The two carpet rugs were laid down in the living-room and the dining-room, and looked scarcely worn at all after Minnie had finished scrubbing, and Tommy and Myron had whipped them. The dining-room rug was dark blue, and how that table and those chairs did show up on it. The springs were broken down in the couch Minnie had picked out, but she turned it over and her young man nailed a new piece of webbing underneath, and in five minutes it was as good as new. Rosanna helped her as much as she could. When they were busy putting up the curtains Minnie said, "Rosanna dear, I think your Uncle Robert looks thin." "I think he does too," said Rosanna, but remembering her promise would say no more. "In love," said Minnie, wisely nodding her head. "Of course _not_," said Rosanna. "He doesn't like girls." "No, he doesn't. Oh no!" said Minnie. "Of course he is in love! Do you mean to tell me, Rosanna, that you don't know that he is in love with little Miss Hooker? Don't tell me that!" "I _do_ tell you," said Rosanna. "He doesn't even like her, sweet as she is." "My good land, hear the child!" said Minnie, sitting down on the top step of the ladder, and letting the stiffly starched curtain trail to the floor. "Do you remember the day she came to see you when you were sick after your accident, and your grandmother had said you could be a Girl Scout? Do you remember that your Uncle Robert was there when she came in? Well, believe me, Rosanna, your Uncle Robert fell in love with her that very day and hour and minute, and that's the truth." "I wish it was," sighed Rosanna. "I _do_ wish it was, but he truly does not like her. I don't know why." "Well, that beats me!" said Minnie, picking up the slack of the curtain again, and sadly hanging it. "I certainly am disappointed, for she is the _sweetest_ little bit I ever hope to see, and it would be a mercy to see that good, kind, nice actin' young man get the likes of her rather than some high nosed madam, who would look down on all his humble friends (as friends we _are_, Rosanna, as you may well believe)." Rosanna did not answer. She was too low in her mind. She knew that Uncle Robert did not care for anyone, but what if someone _should_ grab him anyhow? Rosanna felt that life was full of perils. Two days later the little house was in perfect order, and Uncle Robert went again to Cincinnati after Gwenny. It was decided that no one should meet them on account of tiring Gwenny after her journey, so Uncle Robert carried Gwenny to the automobile and took her home to the little new house, her mother looking back with her sweet, anxious smile from the front seat of the automobile. When they reached the Preston Street house, and Mary and Myron and boisterous Tommy and little Luella all filed out quite quiet, but brimming with happiness, Mrs. Harter could only stare. "This is Gwenny's house, Mrs. Harter, deeded to her. Come in!" said Mr. Horton, as Minnie rushed out and led the dazed woman into all the glories of the new home. Mr. Horton carried Gwenny straight to her own room, and laid her down on the sparkling, gleaming brass bed, where he left her listening to Mary's rapid explanations. When he went downstairs he found Mrs. Harter in the kitchen, crying silently. "Now, now, Mrs. Harter, you must not do that!" he said. "Brace up like a good woman! Gwenny will need a lot of care for a few days, and you will need all your strength." "Oh, but I am so thankful that my heart feels as though it would break!" said Mrs. Harter. Mr. Horton laughed. "It won't break," he said. "Minnie, shall I take you home?" "Thank you, sir, but my Tom is coming over a little later. I have supper all fixed, so we will have a small feast to celebrate, after Gwenny is attended to and safe in bed, so I will get home nicely, thank you." "Good night then," said Mr. Horton. "Don't let those Girl Scouts run over you, Mrs. Harter." He raised his hat and ran down the steps whistling. "There goes one good man," said Minnie solemnly. "Come, dear, and take off your hat in your own house, and see the ducky closet under the stairs to keep it in." And so it was that Gwenny came home. Mr. Horton sped to his own home as fast as he dared drive the car, the chauffeur sitting silently beside him. Robert was too happy to let anyone else handle the wheel. Once more he dashed up the steps three at a time, whistling. Rosanna was at the door. "Be careful of your heart, Uncle Robert," she whispered, looking around to see that her grandmother was not within hearing. "Were they pleased?" "_Were_ they?" said Uncle Robert. "I should say they _were_! Everybody perfectly happy! Gwenny staring around her pretty room, and Mrs. Harter crying in the sink. Yes, everybody is happy. Teedle-ee, teedle-oo!" warbled Uncle Robert. "How good and kind you are, dear Uncle Robert!" said Rosanna tenderly. "Yes, _ain't I_?" said Uncle Robert, deliberately ungrammatical. "Oh, yes, I _be_!" he went on chanting, as he sat down and fished out a cigarette. Then changing to a sober tone, "Rosanna, whom do you think I found in Cincinnati? Up there at that Hospital as large as life?" "I don't know," said Rosanna. "Well, if you will believe me, there was that bad little bit of a Miss Hooker, who had come back from Atlantic City to see that Gwenny was all right. She helped me bring them home. And Rosanna, perhaps I didn't _get even_ with her, for what she said about my being funny! You know I told you I would. I did! It was hard, hard work but I done it, I done it! Tra-la-de-lu-de-lu-de-i-i-i-i-i!" yodeled Uncle Robert, whisking the ash off his cigarette. "What did you do to her?" asked Rosanna in a small, fearful voice. Uncle Robert looked very sternly at Rosanna. "What did I do?" he asked. "What did I _do_? Well, I made her promise to marry me; _that's_ what I did! Pretty smart uncle, hey, Rosanna?" CHAPTER XIII Rosanna sank feebly down on the hall bench, and to her own surprise and Uncle Robert's dismay burst into tears. "Well, who next?" said Uncle Robert. "Mrs. Harter crying in the sink, and you weeping all over our nice hall. Oh dear, what a wet, wet world!" "Oh, don't mind me," said Rosanna, choking back her sobs. "I am perfectly happy, only everything turns out so differently from everything else!" "I suppose you are right," granted Uncle Robert. "You must be if you know what you mean." "I am not sure _what_ I mean," said Rosanna, "but I am so glad, glad, _glad_ that you are going to marry that dear darling Miss Hooker instead of that high nosed madam!" "What are you talking about?" demanded Robert. "High nosed? Who is she?" "I think it is someone Minnie made up," said Rosanna. "She said what a shame if she married you." "Well, she didn't and won't," declared Uncle Robert with conviction. "And as far as _nose_ goes, my girl has only enough nose so that one knows it _is_ a nose. Get that, Rosanna?" Rosanna giggled. "Have you told grandmother?" she asked. Uncle Robert looked suddenly sobered. "No, I didn't, and I should have done so first and I meant to, and it is all your fault, Rosanna." "How so?" asked Rosanna in surprise. "Well, if it hadn't been for you I would never have been traipsing over the country on errands for the Girl Scouts and you wouldn't have been waiting for me in the hall, and I wouldn't have been so fussed at seeing you that I would forget to tell my mamma first. And she won't like it unless she gets told right quick," added Uncle Robert, getting up. Rosanna wiped her eyes, whereupon Uncle Robert sang: "There, little girlie, don't you cry, We'll have a wedding by and by," and ran up the stairs, three at a time, whistling as he went in search of his mother. Uncle Robert was not one to take chances. After seeing his mother, who was truly pleased and had the good sense to show it, he started to Mrs. Hargrave's, and after a short visit left that dear old lady busy at the telephone. The result was a wonderful announcement luncheon a week later, given by Mrs. Hargrave, at which the little Captain looked dimplier and sweeter than ever. After the luncheon she went over to Rosanna's house, where she found all her Girl Scouts ready to congratulate her. "You won't give us up, will you?" they all asked anxiously, and she assured them that she would not. Seeing that they were really anxious, she made them all sit down close around her, and one by one they sang the Scout songs. They were happier after that, and only Rosanna was just a little lonely when she thought of the days when Uncle Robert was away, and reflected that all the days would be like that by-and-by. Just her grandmother and herself in the great stately old house, not occupying half of the rooms, and making so little noise that it made her lonely just to think of it. However, she put it out of her mind as bravely as she could. Miss Hooker stayed to dinner, and Mrs. Horton was so charming that Rosanna could not help thinking what a very lovely young lady she must have been. After dinner, Mrs. Horton calmly carried her little guest away to her own sitting-room for what she called a consultation, and Rosanna and Uncle Robert who had nothing whatever to consult about now, sat and read. Upstairs, Mrs. Horton sat down opposite her son's sweetheart, and said smilingly: "I want to say something to you that Robert does not dream I am going to say, and if you do not approve, I want you to be frank enough and brave enough to tell me. Will you?" "Yes, indeed I will," Miss Hooker promised. "I am an old woman, my dear, and silent. Sometimes I fear I am not very agreeable. It is a hard and unchildlike life that our little Rosanna leads here with me. I want you to ask yourself if for her sake you could bring yourself to live here for a few years. I know how dear a new little house is to a bride's heart, and I tremble to ask you such a favor. But Rosanna has a lonely life at best, and with you here this house could be made gay indeed. "I would never ask it for myself, but I do for Rosanna. I would gladly do anything I could for her, but I cannot fill the house with the sort of joy and gayety that she should have. She loves you deeply, and her Uncle Robert is her ideal. "Wait a moment, dear," she added as she saw her guest was about to speak. "I want to tell you what we could do. There are nine large rooms on this floor. You could select what you want for a suite, and you and Robert could decorate and furnish and arrange them to suit yourselves. I would be so glad to do this just as you wish, and then of course, my dear, the house is all yours besides. Could you consider it?" "I don't have to consider it," said the little Captain. "I have already thought about it, and was worried about Rosanna, but I knew that she could not come to us and leave you all alone here. I am sure Bob will be glad to arrange it as you suggest, for he is very devoted to his mother and to Rosanna as well." Mrs. Horton gave a sigh of relief. "I can't thank you enough, my dearest girl," she said. "No one wants to make your life as happy as I do, and if there is anything I can ever do for you, you have only to tell me. Now we must have everything new in the rooms you want, so we will go down and tell Robert and Rosanna. How glad that child will be!" Rosanna was tired and very nervous, and when Mrs. Horton and Miss Hooker came down with their great plan, Rosanna once more, to her own horror, commenced to cry. "Well, for goodness' sake," her uncle cried, "I never _did_ see anything like this! What ails the child? This certainly settles me! I shall never, never plan to get married again. Rosanna is turning into a regular _founting_; yes, ma'am, a regular _founting_!" "Oh, I am so sorry--no, I mean I am so _glad_," said Rosanna. "You mean you are all tired out, and ought to go to bed," said her grandmother. "And if I am to come here to live," said Robert's sweetheart, dimpling, "I may as well see how I shall like putting a girl in her little bed." Rosanna, nearly as tall as the little lady, laughed through her tears. She went over and kissed her uncle good-night. "I am sorry I was so silly," she whispered. "I was _so_ lonely when I thought you were going away that somehow when I found you were not, why, I just couldn't help myself." "I know how you felt. It is all right, sweetness," Uncle Robert whispered back. Rosanna's clasp tightened round his neck. "Uncle Robert, shall I--do you suppose--will I be your sweetness just the same even after you are married?" Uncle Robert kissed her hard. "Before and after, and forever and ever more!" he said. "Just as soon as I get to be a sober married man, I shall be your uncle and your daddy too, and you are going to be the happiest little girl in the world." "Oh, Uncle Robert!" was all Rosanna could say, but her look thanked him and tears were very near his own eyes as he watched the little orphaned girl skipping off with her arm around the shoulders of his future wife. But they were tears of happiness. "Don't you love this room, Captain?" asked Rosanna, as she switched on the soft flood of light. "Indeed I do!" said Miss Hooker. "I expect to spend a great deal of my time here. Between us, Rosanna, we ought to be able to plan the most wonderful things for our Scout troop. And next summer Bob says he will find a place for us to camp, and fit us out with tents and all that, so we will not have to go to a boarding-house or hotel, but stay right in the open. Won't that be splendid?" "Think of it!" said Rosanna. "Won't the girls be wild when they hear about it? Oh, dear, I wish I was eighteen so I could be a lieutenant!" "I don't wish you were eighteen," said Miss Hooker. "I like you just as you are." "Oh, Miss Hooker, you are _so_ sweet!" said Rosanna. Miss Hooker dimpled. "One thing we had better settle right now," she said. "What are you going to call me?" Rosanna looked blank. "I hadn't thought about that at all. Of course I can't go on calling you Miss Hooker, and then Mrs. Horton. And you are too little and too young to be anybody's aunt." Miss Hooker watched her with a smile. "What are you going to do about it then? I want you to call me just what you like. You are to choose." "Then I will tell you what," said Rosanna brightly. "I was reading the sweetest little story the other day about a Spanish family, and they called each other _Cita_. It means _dear_." "_Cita_," repeated Miss Hooker. "Why, I think that is just as sweet as it can be, and I should love to have you call me that." "Then that is what you are, little Cita," said Rosanna with a kiss. And to her devoted household, Cita she remains to this very day. Cita and Uncle Robert did not seem able to agree on a date for their wedding. Cita declared that it would take at least six or eight months to get what she mysteriously called her "things" together. Uncle Robert declared with equal fervor that she had everything she needed, and that they were not going to go off and live on a desert isle where there were no shops. Finally Uncle Robert had an inspiration. "I tell you what let's do," he said after a long argument. "Let's leave this to an outsider: someone with no special interest in the affair. And as a business man, I will name the agent." "Very well," said Cita. "See that you play fair." "I name and nominate Miss Rosanna Horton, and as her aids and assistants I name and nominate Miss Helen Culver and Miss Elise Hargrave." "That is not playing fair at all!" cried Cita. "You know perfectly well that they want us to be married soon." Robert shook his head. "Not at all! Our marriage is detrimental to those persons named, insomuch as I shall take you off on a wedding trip, and by so doing shall interfere with the routine of work in your Scout troop. That is a good committee, and I shall trust them. I shall now call them in." The three girls were working in the Scout room on the tarleton stockings, filling and tying them. Robert stepped to the door and summoned them. Putting the question before them in the most serious manner, he told them that they were to decide. "I should think I ought to decide my _own_ wedding day!" cried Cita. "You don't seem able to do it," said Robert. "You have been trying to decide for the last ten days. You see it is a business proposition with me. Perhaps if these good, kind young ladies succeed in fixing a wedding day, say before Christmas, I won't have to buy you any Christmas present." "I don't _want_ to be married before Christmas," wailed Cita, looking appealingly at the girls. Rosanna nodded her head understandingly, and the three girls left the room. "When will we set it?" asked Helen. "Do they really mean that we are to do so?" "Tell him we have decided on the fifteenth of February," said Rosanna. "That is the date she has fixed, but he is such a tease that she has been teasing him in return. That will give her all the time she needs, and she won't be all tired out. Everyone loves her, and wants to do things for her and, besides, it is going to take weeks to get those rooms fixed. I never saw grandmother so fussy over anything before. She is going clear to New York and is going to take Cita to select hangings, and she has an artist friend selecting pictures; that is, a list for Cita to look over. Grandmother wants every last thing to be Cita's own selection. And, girls, it is going to be _too_ lovely. What do you think? You know those ceilings are about twenty feet high, and grandmother has had them all lowered with plaster board and beams, so it looks so much cozier. Grandmother is really splendid. I never loved her so much." "Are you almost ready to report?" demanded Uncle Robert at the door. "All ready!" said Helen as the committee went skipping in. "Well, let's hear the verdict," said Uncle Robert. "If this committee is as sensible as it looks, I expect to hear them say that the date is set for next week Tuesday." "The fifteenth of February," said Rosanna firmly. A look of relief spread over Cita's face. "Wha-a-a-t?" said Uncle Robert. "Impossible! Why, _I_ named this committee and by all the rules of politics you should have brought in the report I want." "But it wouldn't have been fair," said Rosanna. "What has that to do with politics?" groaned Uncle Robert. "All right! I have been done up; sold out, and by my own constituents. The fifteenth of February it is. But don't you dare to make it a day later, young ladies!" He rose. "Where are you going?" asked Rosanna. "Where?" said Uncle Robert, with a twinkle in his eye. "_You_ ask me where? Well, I am going to drag myself downtown to get that Christmas present." "And now," said Cita after he had gone, "now don't let's think of weddings or anything else but our Scout work. Things have been dragging lately, and I think it is my fault. If we do not do better and snappier work right away, I will know it is my fault, and I shall give the troop over to someone else. Engaged girls have no business trying to run a troop." "Don't say that, Cita," said Rosanna. "We have all been working so hard for Christmas that I think we have no energy left." "Possibly," said Cita, "but we must put things pretty well in order at the next meeting, and before then I want all these Christmas things marked and in their proper baskets. That meeting, the last before the holidays, will be an important one." "Then let us go to work merrilee," said Elise, picking up a stocking, and letting a gumdrop slide down into the toe. CHAPTER XIV After the usual formalities of a meeting, Captain Hooker desired the girls' full attention. She held a formidable sheaf of notes in her hand, and it looked to the Scouts as though there was going to be a good deal of work parcelled out to them. "In the first place," said their Captain, "I have asked the approval of the National Headquarters, and you are at liberty to send a Thanks badge to Doctor Branshaw. Now you have not yet sent him any formal thanks for what he did for Gwenny and I wonder if any of you have an idea of some attractive way of expressing your gratitude." "I thought of something, Captain," said Lucy Breen, "but perhaps it wouldn't do." "Let us hear it," said the Captain. "How would it be to write him, each of us, a short letter of thanks, just a few words, and at the top of each letter paste a snapshot of the girl who has written it? Then bind them all in a sort of cover or folder with our motto and a print of our flower on the outside." "I think that is simply a splendid idea," cried the Captain. "Don't you think so, girls?" Of course everyone did, and it was settled that Rosanna should go and buy the paper for the letters so they should all be alike. As for the cover, Miss Hooker, who was an artist of more than ordinary talent and skill, offered to illuminate the cover with the cornflower as the motif; and she decided to illuminate it on parchment, with the deep blue of the flowers and dull gold lettering. The girls who had no snapshot of themselves promised to have one taken at once. Before they finished, the "Thanks Book" as they called it, promised to become a beautiful and very attractive affair. Miss Hooker warned them all to write natural and simple letters. "How many of you have been over to see Gwenny in her new home?" asked the Captain. "After the holidays, I think it would be a very kind thing for you to each give up an afternoon once in so often (you can decide how often you can spare the time), and go spend the afternoon with Gwenny. Her mother feels that she should do a little work now and that faithful little Mary is taking care of a couple of children over here on Third Street every afternoon, to earn her share of the household expenses. So Gwenny is left very much alone." "My mother has been in the Norton Infirmary for a month," said one of the girls, "and she said the nurse told her that it would mean a great deal to some of these patients if we girls would only come in once in awhile, and talk to some of the patients who get so lonely. Mother said there was a boy there with a broken hip, and he was always going to be lame, and he grieved so about it all the time that it kept him from getting well. And there was another patient, a girl about my age, with something wrong with her back. She is in a plaster cast, and her only relative is a father who travels, and he is in California." "Now there is an idea for you all," said Miss Hooker. "I want to talk all these things over today, because if I am away at any time I want to feel that I know just about what you are doing. I should think that it would do a lot of good to visit those poor young people. There is just one thing to remember if you want to be popular with the nurses and helpful to the patients: always stay just a little _shorter_ time than you are expected to. Then the nurses feel that you are wise enough to be trusted without tiring the patients, and the patients are left with the desire to see you soon again." "That is just what my mother said," said the girl who had spoken. "She says so many people come who just stay and stay and if the nurse does not get around in time to send them home, why, they have the patient in a fever." "Perfectly true," said Miss Hooker. "Make your visits short--and often. Next," said the Captain, "I want to tell you that Lucy Breen has passed the examinations successfully in two subjects. She is now entitled to wear the Merit badge for Horsemanship and Clerk." All the girls clapped. "_Bon bon_, dear Lucee!" whispered Elise. Lucy smiled back at the dear girl who had befriended her at a moment when she needed a friend so badly. "I want to ask how many of you girls are taking regular exercises every morning?" asked Captain Hooker. "It does not seem as though you had as good color as you should have. I want my girls to be the finest looking troop at the great meeting in the spring. It is to be in Washington; did I tell you? And I want every one of you to go. Now, there is an incentive to work. The rally is in June just after school is over, and I want you to earn the money for your railroad tickets. Of course we will all get special rates, and it will not cost us anything after we arrive there, as we will be the guests of the Washington Scouts, or some of the women's organizations. But you should all of you be able to earn ten dollars before that time. It will take that much, but no more. If any of you girls belong to families who could send you, you are at liberty to help some other girl who is less fortunate, but you must each one of you earn the sum I have mentioned." "What if we earn more?" asked Lucy Breen. "I am sure you will be glad to have a little spending money when you get to Washington," said Miss Hooker. "Some of us will earn more and some less," said Helen. "After we earn the ten dollars, why couldn't we put everything else we earn in your hands, and then it could be evenly divided at the end, and we would each have the same amount to spend, and when we come home we can each tell what we spent it for." "Splendid!" exclaimed Miss Hooker. "What do you girls think of that? I think it would be quite a test of your ability to get a good deal of pleasure or profit out of a stated amount." Again everybody clapped, and with a little more discussion the subject was left settled. One of the Webster girls raised a hand. "What would you suggest that we could do to earn money?" she said. "All we can do is dance, and mamma won't let us dance in public until we are grown up. We don't know how to do anything else." "Marian, I get awfully cross with you sometimes," laughed Miss Hooker. "What are those two merit badges on your sleeve?" "Oh, _those_!" said Marian in a helpless voice. "The gridiron for Cooking and the palm leaf for Invalid Cooking. But I can't go out and cook." "What can you make best?" asked Miss Hooker. Another girl spoke up. "She makes the loveliest jellies you ever tasted and they always stand right up, never slump over at all." "And you, Evelyn Webster, what is that on your sleeve?" "The palette," said Evelyn. "There you are!" said Miss Hooker. "What is the good of earning these badges if you are never going to make use of the things they stand for?" She picked up the Girl Scouts Hand Book that was lying on her lap, and turning over the pages said, "Listen to this: "Employment. "'Stick to it,' the thrush sings. One of the worst weaknesses of many people is that they do not have the perseverance to stick to what they have to do. They are always wanting to change. Whatever you do, take up with all your might and stick to it. Besides the professions of nursing, teaching, stenography and typewriting and clerking, there are many less crowded employments, such as hairdressing, making flowers, coloring photographs, and assisting dentists, and gardening. There are many occupations for women, but before any new employment can be taken up, one must begin while young to make plans and begin collecting information. 'Luck is like a street car, the only way to get it, is to look out for every chance and seize it--run at it, and jump on; don't sit down and wait for it to pass. Opportunity is a street car which has few stopping places.' "Now there you are, Marian and Evelyn, with your jelly and your beautiful lettering. Make some of that jelly, and put it in the prettiest glasses you can find, and tie the tops on with a little ribbon from the five-and-ten-cent store, and illuminate some sample cards for window displays, and take them down to the Women's Exchange. You, Evelyn, take your cards to the manager of one of the big stores, and ask him if he could use such work. He will probably want a thousand of them. I am glad this came up. If you are all as helpless as Evelyn and Marian when it comes to using your knowledge, why, there is really not much use in earning merit badges. "I think we will talk this over for ten minutes informally, and then we will call the roll, and see what each one thinks she can do." The Captain turned to the Lieutenant and commenced to talk to her in a low tone, and for ten minutes the room buzzed. Then at the sharp command of the Lieutenant's whistle silence fell, and the roll was called, and each girl's chosen task was jotted down beside her name. The outlook was rather black for some of the girls who had chosen to try for merits in unusual rather than in available subjects. For instance, one girl wore badges for proficiency in Swimming, Signaling, Pioneer, Pathfinder, and Marksmanship. None of these seemed to offer an opening for moneymaking, especially during the winter months. But she was plucky, and merely said that she would find a way to earn the money. And she did it by going to the Y. W. C. A. and assisting the swimming mistress for a couple of hours every afternoon. So well did she do that when the money was turned in, she had twenty-five dollars to put in the general fund for spending money. Another girl had a merit badge for Aviation, but she went to work in her workshop and built box kites that no boy could resist, and sold them by the dozen. As Miss Hooker told them, the trick was to make use of what they had learned. Of course a good deal of this worked itself out later, but when they had finished their discussion, and Miss Hooker had urged them to get to work as soon as they possibly could, she changed the subject by saying, with just a little hesitation: "I wonder how many of you know that I am to be married?" Every hand rose and a voice said, "But we don't know when." "That is what I want to talk to you about," smiled Miss Hooker. "We are going to be married on the fifteenth of February, and I shall not have bridesmaids and all that girls usually have; I want my own Scout girls as attendants--all of you. Will you all come?" There was a series of exclamations of "Oh, Miss Hooker!" and "Indeed we will!" "Thank you!" said Miss Hooker, quite as though she was asking a favor instead of conferring one. "Then I will depend on all of you, and a little later I will tell you the plan I have for the wedding. Of course you are to arrange to attend the reception afterwards, and we will have automobiles to take you all home." "Oh, thank you, thank you!" chorused the girls. Miss Hooker found that after her invitation it was impossible to interest the girls in anything in the nature of routine work, so she soon dismissed the meeting, and the girls as usual piling into the automobiles belonging to Rosanna and Elise and Lucy and one or two others, were driven home in a great state of excitement. A Girl Scout wedding! That was what it amounted to. Miss Hooker,--their dear Captain, thought so much of them that she had chosen them to attend her rather than her own friends. It was thrilling in the extreme. It struck about twenty of them about the same time later, that there had been nothing said about clothes. This was an awful thought. Rosanna seemed likely to know more than any of the others, on account of the distinction of having Miss Hooker marry her uncle, so the twenty anxious maidens rushed to as many telephones and gave central a very bad time for about an hour, saying "Line's busy," while Rosanna talked to each one as she secured a clear line, and assured her that she knew nothing at all about it. CHAPTER XV The fifteenth of February sparkled all day long. Not half of the Scouts were able to sleep, and they saw the round bright sun bounce out of the east and start blazing up in a cloudless sky. All day it was the same. Not a cloud in the sky, not a shadow on the earth. Automobile horns seemed to take on a joyous toot. The heavy "ding, dong, ding, dong," of the locomotive bell as it crossed Third Street lost its mournful tone and sounded sweetly solemn like a wedding bell. All day relays of restless Scouts belonging to Captain Hooker's troop drifted in at the open door of the beautiful old cathedral and watched the silent workmen setting the palms and flowers under the direction of a bevy of young ladies who were Miss Hooker's schoolmates and life-long friends. They had claimed the right to decorate the church since they were not included in the wedding other than as spectators. On twenty-four beds twenty-four Girl Scout uniforms in a terrifying condition of starch and cleanliness lay stiffly out, with hats and staffs beside them. And at about three in the afternoon twenty-four Girl Scouts lay down on other beds, so they would be "fresh" for the wedding. All the shades were pulled down, but not one of the twenty-four managed to get to sleep. It was awful! Actually painful! Each one lay wondering what the others were doing, and what Miss Hooker was doing. Wondered what she would wear, wondered if she was frightened. The two Websters had refused to rest in separate rooms, so they talked in a cautious undertone, while their mother in the next room pressed imaginary creases out of their tunics. The whole troop had beautiful new hair ribbons from Miss Hooker and from Mr. Horton a beautiful gold bangle bracelet. A messenger boy had delivered them all around just at noon, and while they rested twenty-four left arms were held up to catch the light on the gleaming band. The idea of anyone sleeping! At six o'clock sharp the Lieutenant, Miss Jamieson, hurried up the steps of the Hargrave house where the girls were to meet, and ten minutes later three patrols marched nervously along and turned in. Then for endless ages, too nervous to talk, they sat waiting for the automobiles that were to carry them to the old cathedral. They were torn with fears. What if Mr. Horton and his best man, Doctor MacLaren, had forgotten to order the cars at all? What if they should be late, and the wedding go on without them? The voice of Mrs. Hargrave's house boy announcing "De cahs is heah, ma'am," sounded like music. The cathedral, down in the oldest part of the city, seemed a million miles away, and the cars crawled. Not a traffic policeman but stopped them as they approached--but at last they arrived and entered the church. How beautiful it was, softly yet brilliantly lighted through its high arches. White satin with heavy gold embroideries draping altar and desk, tall candles burning at either side of the Cross. And somewhere softly, thrillingly out of space, spoke the most entrancing music. People went down the aisles in gaily clad groups, the delicate perfumes of the flowers worn by beautiful women wafting to the girls as they passed. Mrs. Breen's two brothers and the brothers of the two Girl Scouts who had helped at the benefit were all acting as ushers and they were certainly busy. Standing just inside the door, the girls were aware of a little stir, and a group entered, walking more slowly and carefully than the others. Even the girls were surprised as they stared. For first of all came Gwenny, Gwenny leaning heavily on the arm of the kindly sign painter, but Gwenny was _walking_! Behind, looking very shiny and quite agonized, followed Mary and Tommy and little Myron firmly clutching the still littler Luella, who looked on the verge of tears. After them, to close all avenue of escape, walked Mrs. Harter, and Minnie and Tom. Very slowly, in Gwenny's halting footsteps, they went down the aisle--down and down until they came to the satin ribbon that fenced off a portion of the seats for Miss Hooker's most particular friends. And even then they did not stop, for Doctor MacLaren, who was with them, led them to the fourth seat from the front. It had evidently been saved for them, for in the corner next the aisle was a big pillow for Gwenny's back. Cita's girl friends kept drifting in, lovely, colorful creatures in dancing frocks, and the girls reflected with joy that they too were asked to the reception afterwards. Then came the group of the bride's relatives, and close behind, Mrs. Horton, walking with her hand on the arm of the older Breen boy, and looking like a queen in her pale gray satin robe, brocaded with silver. And then the Lieutenant, who had been standing outside all this time, returned, looking quite pale, and gave an order in a tone so low that half of the girls did not hear at all, but they were so keyed up that they knew just what to do and formed a double line facing the chancel. The music burst suddenly, joyously into the Wedding March, and the girls started slowly down the broad aisle, keeping step to the music. So smoothly and so quickly had it been done that they had not had a glimpse of the bride, who was following them on her father's arm, with Rosanna all in white before her as maid of honor. Down the aisle, straight and trim, marched the Guard of Honor. When the first two girls reached the foot of the chancel steps, they stopped and turned to face each other, taking two steps backward. As the line all formed, the staffs were raised until the tips met, and under this arch, all misty tulle and gleaming satin, her cheeks faintly flushed, her lips softly smiling, passed their little Captain. Mr. Robert who had been waiting just beyond came forward and took her hand, and the Dean stepped down to meet them, while the Bishop waited before the altar. The music muted. And in the place of the march came faint sighs of melody. Then in a pause of the ceremony, from somewhere silvery chimes rang out. The little bride stood motionless, her tulle train seeming to melt into the whiteness of the marble on which she stood. And then, almost at once it seemed, it was all over. The little Captain had made her new vows, the ring was on her hand, the blessing on her bowed head. Quite solemnly Mr. Robert kissed her, then the organ broke out with a burst that filled the great church, and fairly beat down the rising throngs, as the married couple, passing under the crossed staves, passed down the aisle and out into their new life. The Guard of Honor, in their automobiles once more and whirling after the bridal car to the reception, found their tongues and all talked at once. No one listened; no one cared. They went through a canopied, carpeted tunnel across the sidewalk to the house, and there were firmly handled by a bevy of colored maids who took their staffs and hats and sent them forth with nothing to do with their hands. But Mr. Robert shook all the hands they had, and the little Captain kissed them each and every one. And then she asked them to form just back of her until she had greeted all the guests. This took a long time, but was such fun, because they saw everyone and all the dresses, and everything. But finally the line thinned out, the congratulations were over, and the little Captain, taking her filmy train over her arm, drifted out among the guests and the girls broke up into groups. A little later Rosanna came hurrying around to tell the girls to come to the library. They found the Captain and her husband there, talking to a chubby, smiling, altogether kindly and delightful little gentleman, who stared beamingly at them through immense horn-rimmed spectacles. "I want to present you to Doctor Branshaw, girls," said Mrs. Horton. "He came all the way from Cincinnati to attend our wedding and to meet you." The girls stepped up one by one to be presented to the great man. "I didn't see any other way of meeting you all," he said. "My time is always so broken, and they keep me so busy down there that I actually didn't have time to write and tell you how greatly I appreciated that book you sent me. I think it was quite the nicest thing in the world. I shall always keep it." "It was poor thanks for what you did for Gwenny," said Miss Jamieson, finding that someone had to answer. "I was glad to do it," said the Doctor, "after you had led the way. It is an honor to work with the Girl Scouts. When you are twice as old, yes, three times as old as you are now, you will realize what a wonderful work you are doing in the world. I come across evidences of it every day. This Gwenny, for instance. Did you see the way she went down that long aisle tonight? Why, that girl is going to be well, perfectly well! Think of the years of pain and misery you have saved her, the agonizing nights and the untimely death. Whose plan was it, anyway?" "Rosanna Horton's," said half a dozen voices. Rosanna flushed. "No, don't say that!" she objected. "It is just as the doctor says. If I thought of it it was because I am a Scout. Call it the Girl Scouts' Plan." "Yours or theirs, Miss Rosanna; it was a divine thought and should make you all happy. You have given the three greatest boons to a fellow creature: life, health, and happiness, and all because your splendid order teaches you to watch for just such opportunities. Now I will give you an opportunity to do a good deed tonight," and he laughed the jolliest laugh. "There are a couple of very wise gentlemen here tonight, who would like to talk to me, and they would want to talk about operations and anesthetics and all those things that I left locked up in my office at home. But I can't tell them that, so I wish you could just look after me for the next hour, and sort of beau me around, you know, and if you see any bald heads or spectacles bearing down on us, just close in and protect me." "Oh, we will!" chorused the girls, greatly pleased. So the great Dr. Branshaw, quite the greatest and most eminent man present, passed happily from room to room surrounded and tagged by a chatting, smiling throng of uniformed girls. When a cheering looking line of waiters appeared with plates and napkins, the great man and his little court settled in a cozy nook and proceeded to fly in the face of all the best health experts. And to see the Doctor shamelessly send for more bouillon, and consume sandwiches, and sliced turkey, and candied sweet potato and salad, and oh, dear, all _sorts_ of things, was enough to make any Scout hungry, and they just feasted and feasted. Although the doctor refused to talk to the wise men, he did talk to the girls, getting on the subject dearest to him, as all professional men will, and telling them many an amusing story and pathetic incident. Finally he rose. "I must go, girls," he said. "I said good-bye to Mrs. Horton when I came in, so I could just slip out a little side door there is here." He shook hands all around and patted each straight shoulder. "Don't forget me," he said, "and remember if there is anything I can do to help, we are all working together. See this?" He smiled and pulled aside his coat. There on his waistcoat was the Thanks Badge they had sent him. "I always wear it," he said, and with a merry good-bye hurried through the little door, and was gone. Rosanna went to the hall and looked out. "Hurry, hurry!" she called. "Here she comes! We nearly missed her!" The bride, in her travelling dress, was coming down the stairs. She paused on the landing and looked down at the sea of smiling faces below. Then suddenly she tossed her bouquet out. A dozen hands reached for it, and the girl who caught it danced up and down. Everyone laughed. "What did she do that for?" asked one of the Websters. "The one who catches the bride's bouquet," said Miss Jamieson, "will be the next one married." "Quick!" cried Elise. "Let us all form the guard-line for her. Never mind those staves!" Slipping through the throng and out the door, the girls formed a double line to the automobile waiting at the curb. A great white bow was tied on the back, and Rosanna quickly took it off and hid it. "Cita wouldn't like that," she explained. Then she stood with her hand on the door. The house door opened and in a blaze of light, confetti and rice showering about her, rose leaves floating above her, the little bride and her tall young husband ran down the steps and through the double line of Scouts, who closed solidly before the door of the limousine as she entered it. The other guests were shut out. For that moment she was again their little Captain and belonged to them alone. Forming in a solid group, they suddenly shouted the Girl Scout yell, threw her a shower of kisses, and crying good-bye over and over, watched her little hand wave a farewell as the car sprang forward. * * * * * Helen and Elise were Rosanna's guests for the night. A couch had been prepared so the three girls could sleep in the same room. They rolled themselves up in bathrobes, and sat on the edge of the couch just as they had sat on the top step so many months ago, only this time Elise did not knit. She too sat with her chin in her hands, staring out of the window. Rosanna had snapped off the light. A million stars in a deep frosty sky looked down on them. The night sparkled. It was very, very late, but Mrs. Horton with surpassing wisdom had not asked them to go right to bed. She too was awake, dreaming long dreams. Presently Elise spoke. "So much of happiness makes me sad," she said. "Well, it is all over," sighed Rosanna. "Not at all!" cried Elise. "What could be over? Not Meeses Horton, who is just beginning. Not us, who have so many, many works to do. Not Gwenny who steps into a new life. Just see all those stars. They shine and sparkle always, no matter what goes on down here." "You sound like a little sermon, Elise dear," said Helen, smiling. "I don't know just yet what it is you call sermon, but I hope it is nice," replied Elise. "Yours is, anyway," said Rosanna, kissing the fair face beside her. "All I meant was that this is over, the wedding and all that. Oh, of course I didn't mean that _everything_ was over. It is just as though a beautiful day had ended, as it has," Rosanna continued. "Others will come, many, many other busy, beautiful days, and on my honor, I will try to do my duty to God and my country, to help other people at all times and to obey the Scout laws," said Rosanna softly, lifting her eyes to the eternal stars. THE END 
28855	----	[Illustration: THE CAPTAIN STOOPED AND LIFTED HER IN HIS ARMS. "The Girl Scouts at Sea Crest." Page 161] THE GIRL SCOUTS AT SEA CREST OR _The Wig Wag Rescue_ By LILIAN GARIS Author of "The Girl Scout Pioneers," "The Girl Scouts at Bellaire," etc. _ILLUSTRATED_ NEW YORK CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY THE GIRL SCOUT SERIES By LILIAN GARIS Cloth. 12mo. Frontispiece. THE GIRL SCOUT PIONEERS, Or, Winning the First B. C. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT BELLAIRE Or, Maid Mary's Awakening THE GIRL SCOUTS AT SEA CREST Or, The Wig Wag Rescue * * * * * _Other volumes in preparation_ CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, NEW YORK COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY THE GIRL SCOUTS AT SEA CREST Printed in U. S. A. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. SAME OLD OCEAN 1 II. THE BOTTLED WARNING 11 III. A COUPLE OF FREAKS 19 IV. MARGARET-BY-THE-DAY 25 V. CAPTAIN DAVE 32 VI. CRABS AND DISASTER 42 VII. A DIFFICULT SITUATION 51 VIII. AT WEASEL POINT 58 IX. THE FIRE AT THE PIER 67 X. PLANNING FOR ACTION 75 XI. AT THE COLONNADE 83 XII. ON THE SANDS 91 XIII. A BLANKET OF FOG 102 XIV. ABOARD THE BLOWELL 113 XV. STRANDED 123 XVI. THE BAREFOOT GIRLS 132 XVII. A RELIC FROM THE ALAMEDA 144 XVIII. THE WIG WAG RESCUE 155 XIX. THE GLORIOUS AFTERMATH 165 XX. A REVELATION 176 XXI. ON LUNA LAND 187 XXII. A COMEDY OF THE ROCKS 196 XXIII. SCOUTS EVERY ONE 204 THE GIRL SCOUTS AT SEA CREST CHAPTER I SAME OLD OCEAN THREE girls stood on the beach watching the waves--the tireless, endless, continuous toss, break, splash; toss, break, splash! Always the same climbing combers smoothly traveling in from eternity, mounting their hills to the playful height of liquid summits, then rolling down in an ocean of foam, to splash on the beach into the most alluring of earth's play toys--the breakers. "And we thought the baby mountain at Bellaire beautiful--why this ocean is--well, it is simply bigger and grander than anything I have ever dreamed of," declared Grace. "No wonder the girls out in Chicago long to spend a summer at the sea shore." "I couldn't even find a word to describe it," admitted Cleo. "Doesn't it look like eternity all spilled out?" "And the roll is like the origin of noise," suggested Grace. "Now, Weasie, what do you see that looks like--like the original public service telephone company, or the first gas and electric plant? Don't you think those glints of color and sparks of foam may be our first sulphur springs?" "I never could claim a poetic imagination," admitted Louise, known to her chums as Weasie, "but I might see a family resemblance there to--well--to a first-class Turkish bath. There! How the mighty hath fallen! From the origin of noise and eternity spilled out, down to a mundane yet highly desirable Turkish bath! And girls, mine is the only practical description, for a bath it is to be, ours for all summer! Can you imagine it?" "And smell the salt?" prompted Cleo. "Since you insist on being practical, no use talking about the aroma of the gods, or the incense of the mermaids. Weasie, I see you are going to keep us down to earth; and I guess you are right. Essays are better in school than done orally on a beautiful beach. But really isn't it overwhelming?" "I'll admit that much," replied Weasie. "But you see, I have had a glimpse of the beach before. I vacationed here for one week. Then I have been to Atlantic City in winter. That's simply wonderful. But you little Westerners, all the way from Pennsylvania," and she laughed at the idea, "you, of course, have only seen good old Lake Erie. Yes, girls, this is the ocean. Meet Madame Atlantic," with a sweeping gesture toward the ocean. "But look out! That's how Madame Atlantic meets us! Just look at my pumps!" A vengeful wave had crept in and deliberately splashed the three pairs of new summer pumps, before the girls realized they were being surrounded. "Well, of all things!" exclaimed Grace. "How did that wave get in without us seeing it? And we standing right there watching it! My shoes are simply done for," and she looked about for a place to sit down and dump out some of the damage. "That's the way with waves," explained Louise, who now stood sponsor for the ocean and its habits. "You never can tell just what a wave will do." "I see," said Cleo, trying to plough through the heavy sand without burying the soaking wet slippers. "I suppose we may call this our initiation. Changing time at Pittsburg is nothing to changing pumps at Sea Crest. Let's to it." "And salt water is ruinous to leather. I know that much," declared Grace. "Weasie, you should have told us to leave our shoes on land and come into the sands barefoot. I suppose that's why all the picture dancers are barefoot on the sands; it's so hard on slippers. There's a barrel. Let's anchor that and divest ourselves. Did you ever see dry land so far away? This sand is as bad as water to plough through." "Knocks the poetry out of it, doesn't it?" teased Louise. "But don't let's mind. What are mere pumps to all this?" They reached the barrel which had been washed up on the beach and was quite securely embedded in the sand. On this the three chums took refuge from the ocean water and sea of sand, while they attempted to wring out their soaking socks and hang them on some brush to dry. "This is such a lovely big barrel," commented Cleo. "Let's sit here, and while our wash dries we can tell marine stories. Grace, you had better put your pumps up farther. That island may be washed away with the next wave." "I guess I will," agreed Grace. "It seems to me this old ocean knows we are greenies the way it tantalizes us. Now there!" and she placed the two black slippers much farther up from the line marked by the incoming tide. "I hope the next set of waves will be polite enough to keep their distance. Come on to the barrel and let's hear about Madaline. Why couldn't she come down?" They adjusted themselves again on the great cask, and Cleo proceeded to narrate the details of her recent letter from their chum, Madaline. "Her folks are going to travel this summer so we can't have our little roly-poly Madaline with us," she explained. "Of course, we shall miss her, but we are going to have Mary. Her rich relations are coming down to the Colonade." "To that immense gold-and-white hotel over there!" exclaimed Grace. "Then we shall have wonderful times visiting her. And we can see all the dances and masquerades--I suppose they have a very gay season at a hotel like that." "I saw a circular announcing the opening on the fifteenth," said Louise. "Perhaps Mary will be down then and we may be invited." "I smell fire," interrupted Cleo, "and there isn't a streak of smoke in sight. Wonder where it can be?" "I am sure that _is_ fire somewhere," declared Grace. "Where _can_ it be!" and she too sniffed the odor of smoke. "Oh my!" exclaimed Louise, jumping up and dragging her chums with her. "We are on fire! See, it is in the barrel!" "And my skirt is burned!" declared Grace. "Just see!" exhibiting a singed hole in her blue serge skirt. "However did a fire start in there?" questioned Cleo. "Let's see." But there was no need of investigation, for scarcely had they jumped from their places when a sheet of flame shot out from the open end of the otherwise innocent looking cask. "Land sakes!" declared Louise. "We were lucky not to be blown up. How did that start with no one in sight to start it?" "Maybe we touched off a fuse," suggested Cleo jokingly. "No, I'll tell you," offered Grace. "When we sat on the barrel we shut out the wind from the side, all but enough to create a draft; and the paper must have been smoldering. Now, just look at our perfectly good seat turned into a beach fire! We had better rescue our socks. Maybe those sticks will explode under them, next thing we know." "Oh, just look here!" called Cleo. "See what I just kicked up! It's a bottle and has a note in it! Maybe it's a warning from the firebug," she finished, dragging from the sand a bottle and proceeding to pull out the paper which had been carefully wound with a cord, the end of which was brought out at the cork. Cleo promptly let the cork pop, yanked the string, and so dislodged the note. "I knew it," she exclaimed, "a message from the pirates. Listen to this!" Grace and Louise hopped back to hear the contents of the rolled slip of paper. "Short enough," commented Cleo. "It simply says, 'Beware of the fire-bug' and it's signed 'The Weasle'. Well, I never! Beware of the fire-bug," she repeated, "and not a human in sight that fire-bug fires. And signing himself the Weasle! Must be pretty snappy. Well, I say girls, as early as we thought we were getting down, before all the other schools were dismissed, the little old fire-bug got here first. What do you make of it?" "Maybe some one comes in by boat from some island, and leaves the fires to start up with a clock signal, like they do it in the movies," suggested Grace. Louise and Cleo laughed the idea to scorn. "Can you imagine an island in the ocean?" asked Louise. "And just look at the writing of this note! It is a perfectly modern school hand. Some small boy I suppose, who has been reading too much Captain Kidd. At any rate let us be glad we didn't burn up more skirts, although it is too bad to spoil that splendid new serge, Grace," she finished, commiserating with the girl who was just then judging the size of the hole burnt in her skirt by trying to view the sun through it. "Oh, perhaps I can fix it," speculated Grace. "It's a very nice round hole, and I may cover it with a patch pocket, though it would be rather low down to trust my wealth to it. However, it is all right. And the fire will finish drying our socks and pumps. And also, we have something to remember in our first beach fire. I have often read of them. They usually toast potatoes and things in the fires, don't they?" "Marshmallows," corrected Louise, quite well informed on beach lore. "We'll have a marshmallow roast when enough of the girls come down. But it is nice to get here first and find everything out. When the other schools close next week I suppose we won't be able to find one another, with the crowds that will flock to this beach. And just now we have it all to ourselves," she finished, looking up and down the vast expanse of territory known as the ocean front, and therefore quite as extensive as the stretch of the ocean itself. "All the same," insisted Grace, smoothing again the rolled slip of paper which Cleo had handed over. "I believe this is written by someone----" "We all do," interrupted Cleo with a smile. "I mean some one who is a firebug!" "Oh, come now," teased Louise. "I don't believe you are as sensational as that, Grace. Firebugs don't grow in the ocean, like crabs. Just see that funny crab trying to get in your slipper. You don't suppose he can write notes, and start fires, do you?" "And here's another sort of monster," called Cleo, who was poking in the sand near the edge. "I believe this fellow could do most anything if he had the tools. Just look! Isn't he horrid looking?" "Ugh!" exclaimed Grace, "I'm glad I never eat fish!" "That's a skate," explained Louise. "No one eats that sort of fish. Isn't he ugly?" and a determined thrust with her beach stick (a piece of bamboo salvaged from the drift wood), sent the dead monster out into the deep. "If I had a pencil, I would put an answer to that letter in the bottle," proposed Cleo. "We might get a lot of fun out of it." "And we might also get a visit from friend fire-bug," cautioned Grace. "And I don't know whether our cottage is insured or not. But I do know it has lovely furniture and mother says it's a perfect joy to come into a house, all spick and span without having to do the spicking. No, Cleo, please don't invite the Weasle to call." "I have a tiny dance card pencil," offered Louise. "Let's write a note just for fun. Of course, no one will ever find it." Cleo ran up the sand to the board walk where bits of paper could be seen flying in the early summer breeze. She returned, presently, with a piece suitable for their pirate message. "Let's write a scary answer," she proposed. "Here, I'll say 'Wild Weasle, take heed! We have seen your sign and will return for vengeance!' Signed 'The Pirates!' There!" she concluded. "If any fire-bug finds that maybe he will take heed. Where's the bottle?" Louise produced the erstwhile soda water container, and into this the girls' letter was poked, with the poke-string left out at the cork, as per sample. "We're beginning early," said Cleo. "Louise, I'm glad you know the beach. You may save us from disaster, although we have had so many experiences first out at Flosston, then last summer at Bellaire. I suppose, like trouble, adventure is bound to come to those who seek it. Now, we are all ready. Have the right shoes on the right feet, have buried our Pirate Threat, and so let's go back home. I'm just crazy to show you the love of a cottage we have." "I thought ours was the very prettiest," said Grace, "but we shall inspect yours first, Cleo. Then look at mine, and if Louise-----" "Certainly, I want you to come over and see my sleeping porch. I hardly believe there is one prettier here. Come along." "We should have called out the department," said Cleo. "Just fancy them extinguishing that hole in your skirt, Grace!" And the romp from the beach echoed with their merry laughter for all could vision Grace under the fire hose! "This way to the Log Cabin!" announced Cleo leading her friends from the boardwalk along the Avenue to her quaint summer home. "Now, for our first inspection!" CHAPTER II THE BOTTLED WARNING "OH, how curious!" This from Grace. "Like a mountain house at the seashore. All field stones and rustic trimmings," commented Louise. "We think it simply great," declared Cleo. "Come along till I show you the big attic. It was built for a studio, and looks right over the ocean. I never dreamed seashore landlords could offer for rent such a wonder house as this." "Folks tire of things so easily, and continually long for change, I suppose," said Louise. "But you were lucky to get this, Cleo. I fancy one of the many artists coming here would love to have found it first." "Can you imagine an entire house trimmed with rough cedar? And just see the length of these cedar beams! Fully forty feet; they go straight from one end of the house to the other," declared Cleo, proudly pointing out the novelties of the Log Cabin. "And just see here!" exclaimed Grace. "A real dogwood tree trimmed with the most perfect paper flowers. Isn't that simply lovely!" This last found attraction was a novelty indeed, for it was nothing less than a fine sized dogwood tree standing against a latticed cedar screen; and this tree of natural wood was decorated with perfectly made paper flowers--quite as if the original blooms had developed into the "everlasting" variety. A wonderful fireplace of field stones opened in the living room, and sent its tower clear to the studio on the third floor; while every board and stick in the cottage was either of rough natural cedar, or the same wood chastened to bring out the marvellous tones of color that can only be described as cedar. It was, in truth, a remarkable summer home; and while we leave the girls here to explore its glories, we may take a moment to recall the other two volumes of this series: "The Girl Scout Pioneers; or Winning the First B. C." and the second "The Girl Scouts at Bellaire; or Maid Mary's Awakening." In the first we were treated to an intimate view of girl scouting as it is worked out in the groups known as patrols and troops. The True Tred Troop of Flosston, a Pennsylvania mill town, was composed of a lively little company indeed, and these American girls were given an opportunity of working and lending influence to a group of mill girls, whose quaint characteristics and innate resourcefulness make an attractive background for our story picture. How the runaway girls were reclaimed, how a little woodland fairy, Jacqueline, worked out a scout fantasy, and how a very modest deed won the first Bronze Cross, makes the first volume of this series a book calculated to inspire as well as to fascinate the reader. The second volume: "The Girl Scouts at Bellaire," narrates the remarkable experience of our True Treds in a mountain town in New Jersey, where, while spending a vacation, they discover Maid Mary, the orphan of the orchids, a child of strange fancies and queer tropical influences, who has been made a victim of the orchid seekers to the extent of being kept from her relations until the rare bulb is found by the Girl Scouts. The glory of the orchids, with their delightful colors and their rarest of perfumes, permeates the story, while the vague, subtle influence of queer foreigners lends sufficient clouds to bring out the real beauties of the tale. The Girl Scout Series is intended to furnish the best sort of good reading in an attractive style, suited at once to the needs of the girl's mind, and her natural enjoyment of the story, while it will stand the most critical censorship of parents and caretakers of the plastic minds of young girls. And now our girls are ransacking the Log Cabin from roof to landing, (there is no cellar to the beach cottage) and on this the first day of their vacation at Sea Crest, hours are all too short in which to cram the joys of exploration. "I have never seen a place like this," declared Grace, when all three scouts came to a halt finally on the low couch under the indoor dogwood tree. "We can have lovely parties here, can't we, Cleo?" "Surely," agreed the hostess. "But girls, what shall we do about scouting this summer?" she asked, diverting suddenly to a more serious question. "You see, there is no troop here, and it is such an opportunity for good scouting, with all the wilds of the ocean and cliffs, as a background. I feel perhaps, we should organize. Suppose we organize a summer troop of just our own girls? Margaret and Julia will be here this week, and you know many more from school will be down later." "Oh let's call ourselves the Sea Gulls. Then we would have an excuse for taking rides in that airplane that goes up from the park," suggested the ever venturesome Grace. "I'd like it," agreed Louise. "Then, too, we could wear our uniforms a lot, and I am sure I shall have to wear something to help out on cutting down laundry until real hot weather. Do you know, girls, there is no such thing as obtaining help? And our Susie insisted on getting married, so would not come down with us." "And mother wouldn't even try to get a perfectly strange maid," said Cleo. "I don't mind helping out by wearing a uniform on cool days, but I don't believe I should enjoy doing a lot of housework. I would rather go scouting for maids," she insisted. "We might even do that," replied Grace, "but now let's hie to the next cottage. I think mine is next." It was so early in the season that not many of the summer places were open, but in almost every cottage workers were busy, opening the boarded windows, (all windows on the ocean side have to be boarded up to withstand the winter storms) fixing up the grounds, opening garages, and generally preparing for the summer influx. "Here we are!" announced Grace, leading her companions up through the well groomed lawn, then under the rose arch over which the word "Rosabell" was wrought in rustic characters, with the rose vines threading in and out, and punctuating each letter with sprays of buds almost ready to bloom. "Oh, isn't that pretty!" enthused Cleo. "I believe the light dainty cottage is really prettier than our gloomy old log cabin." "And such porch furniture!" enthused Louise. "You can have a lovely scout meeting out here Grace. Let's hurry and organize so we can have a meeting," suggested Louise in sincere compliment to "Rosabell." Within the cottage the rooms were all done in a chintz and hung in wonderful gauzy draperies, almost unknown to city houses, but quite indispensable to the summer resort. "And wait until you see my room," Grace told her friends. "I am sure you will like it." "Oh, a marine room," exclaimed Cleo, as they entered a corner all decorated with sea trophies, including star fish, the sword of a sword fish, tortoise shells, even fishing rods and queer tackle hung on the background of seine or fish net, that almost covered one side of the marine green walls. "I chose this room although Benny wanted it," said Grace, "but I had first choice, so he got an extra play room over the garage, where boys' noise would not sound quite so telephonic," she ventured. "I wondered why people left this sort of thing up in a summer cottage, where usually, they say, things must be so sanitary and practical, but it seems the boy who owned them was a Jackie, and his mother wouldn't have the room disturbed." "Sakes-a-live!" exclaimed Louise. "He may come in the window some night while taking a stroll in his seaplane, Grace. Better keep a screen in this lovely long window," she admonished. "Oh, I shall, although I just love Jackies and intend to make a lot of friends down at the life saving station. That is where we ought to be able to apply some choice scouting," said Grace, rearranging a row of green bound books, that, like everything else in the room, harmonized in the marine effect. "Don't go turning crabbed, or getting fishy, or even mermaiding in this room, Grace," teased Cleo. "It is so effective I should rather fear the effect taking root. Just look at this real little alligator and he is actually strong enough to sit on! Did you ever see anything so cunning?" The real little alligator or crocodile was actually standing on his short hind legs, and in his front (shall we say paws?) he was holding a flat piece of wood that served for the seat of the queer stool. It was all very novel, and everyone decided "Rosabell" was one of the prettiest cottages in Sea Crest. "And having decided to organize the Sea Gulls," Louise remarked, "I think this would be a particularly appropriate place to hold our initiations." "But I thought Cleo had formed a pirate's league?" teased Grace. "Suppose our Captain Kidd fire-bug discovers who set off the beach barrel fuse, and comes around for vengeance some night? Whoo-pee!" and Grace demonstrated the revenge with an indescribable arm swing not listed in her Swedish movements. "I do think that is sort of queer," commented Cleo, "how that fire started, and the way it burned. Did any one smell oil? All big incendiary fires are oil soaked always, you know." "It might have been oil or it might have been fish bones, but I did not notice any pungent odor," declared Louise. "And now for _my_ cottage. I am afraid there are no thrills left, so don't be too much disappointed." "I am sure we will have enough thrills to applaud you, Weasie dear," said Grace. "It is so nice to have you with us this year. Of course we are going to miss our baby Madaline, and it is a shame we cannot all come to such a lovely summer place, but having you along does compensate. And we are always hoping Madie will come later on. When will Julia and Margaret arrive?" "Early next week," Louise replied, "and Julia has the loveliest new car." "So have we, and so have you, and so has Cleo," replied Grace, rather discounting the glory of the first mentioned. "They may not all be quite as high-class as Julia's, but I am sure they are each perfectly first rate. Here is ours coming in just now. Let's hop in, and Lenore will run us over to your place, Weasie." CHAPTER III A COUPLE OF FREAKS LEONORE, an older sister of the vivacious Grace, very willingly picked up the trio, and presently they were contrasting the ocean air as breathed at a speed rate along the ocean front, to the same air as gathered "by hand" from a stationary position. "It's like drinking air," commented Cleo. "This is surely liquid air if there is any such commodity." "I want to stop at Borden's for a paper," said their driver, Leonore. "Grace, will you kindly hop out and get it?" The opportunity of inspecting the big pavilion which was just opened that day for the season, was eagerly grasped by all three girls, who promptly decided there were many and various things they all needed; all of which might be bought at Borden's, so they hopped out with conspicuous alacrity. "Isn't this splendid!" enthused Grace, almost dancing across the well polished floor. "We will be sure to want a lot of ice cream this summer." Over in a corner a queer looking girl was counting and recounting a lot of small change. First she would finger it from one hand to the other, almost counting aloud; then she would drop each coin on the table and its ring counted aloud for her. This attracted the attention of the Girl Scouts, who without speaking of it, were all watching the process with interest. "Wealth," whispered Louise, "and newly acquired, I guess." "Going to treat the world," said Cleo under her breath. "Too bad they are all out of balloons." The girl had finally decided to spend one pile of the coins she had heaped before her, and the other she brushed into a little muslin bag, tied it with a black string and then stuck it carefully into the neck of her blouse. As if conscious she was being watched she shuffled awkwardly, then made her way to the end of the counter, where the one-time penny candies were sold. "There!" exclaimed Cleo, when the girl was well out of hearing. "She is surely a queer character and worth watching. How do you suppose she ever came by that famous collection of modern coins." "Why, she earned them, I should say," guessed Louise. "That's the sort of girl always available for a mind-the-baby job." As the girl waited to make her purchase she kept turning, very boldly, to stare at the scouts, who were vainly trying to hide their interest in the queer character. Evidently _she_ had no misgivings concerning her interest in them. First she would shrug her shoulders, then tilt up her broken straw hat, kick the heel of one "sneak" against the other, until finally the clerk spoke sharply to bring her attention to the point of buying candy. It took her some time longer to make her selection and again in counting out her money she made quite an unnecessary display. A spill of the coins brought an ill-concealed titter from Cleo and Grace, and this the girl so sharply resented that Louise edged her chums to the other side of the room for safety. "Fierce!" commented Grace. "Think she bites?" "Might," replied Cleo under her breath. Louise was ordering stamps, and her friends pretended to examine the alluring display of new post-cards. "Oh, my!" whispered Grace. "What is this we have come upon? Please look over in that far corner!" They followed the direction indicated and saw there a very tall, awkward boy, pouring over a badly worn book, and making notes on a slip of yellow paper. He wore glasses, and possessed that queerly undefinable personality, usually ascribed to the gawky boy, or he who is different from others. "Look!" begged Louise grasping the arms of Grace and Cleo. "He has the same kind of paper we found in the bottle!" "Our fire-bug!" breathed Cleo, edging away in mock alarm. "Behold his avenger!" and she held aloft a pretty yellow lolly-pop lately chosen from the candy case. The boy never noticed those about him, but literally poured over his book and dug notes out with a stubby pencil. Meanwhile the girl with the bag of coins had procured her confections, and was now counting her change. As she passed the girls she looked boldly at them and actually stuck out her tongue! Grace roared laughing. The outburst caused the boy in the corner to drop his pencil and stare. Then Cleo laughed; Louise joined her, and all three bolted for the door. "Oh, I thought I'd choke," gurgled Cleo. "Did you ever see such circus folks?" "But the boy with the yellow paper may be writing us another letter," hazarded Grace. "We should have gone up boldly and confronted him." "I was more interested in slip-shod Letty," said Louise. "She looked real daggers, and what about her threat? She almost shook her fist at us." "Oh, she'll be sure to love us, that's certain," commented Cleo, "but I don't see why we should let her act so bold. We ran as if we were afraid of her." "We were afraid of ourselves--thought we were going to get into a fit of laughing," admitted Grace. "Come on," urged Louise. "Leonore will be out of patience." "I thought you were going to buy the store out," said the waiting girl, impatiently pressing the self starter button and the car rumbled off. "No danger," replied Grace. "But we saw the funniest folks," and she proceeded to tell of their near-encounter with the girl they named Letty, and then mentioned the glimpse they had of the queer, studious boy. "A couple of freaks," said Leonore, as the car picked up speed. "There are plenty of them around here, and you little girl scouts better watch out. Some one may find you off your guard," she finished good-naturedly. When the girls settled down they exchanged opinions on the morning's experience. No little country coin collector could open fire on them that way, without paying some penalty. Not if they knew it. "And think of her sticking her tongue out," exclaimed Grace. "Of all the rude tricks!" "I do believe she would have punched me if she had dared," remarked Cleo. "Well, she had better wait--just wait," said Louise with a threat in her voice. "We are sure to meet Letty again and then--just wait!" "And the boy with the yellow paper," Cleo reminded her chums. "What about him?" "There's plenty of yellow paper," replied Grace, "but of course he might be our fire-bug. He looked sort of unconscious." "Didn't notice you looking at him, that _was_ queer," teased Louise. "Oh, I think I saw your gray eyes rolling over in his corner," fired back Grace. "Not even the entire volley brought him to his senses," put in Cleo, "for I must admit _I_ was looking over his way myself." "Well, here we are. Thanks 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 doing deadly damage to the white muslin. "I know that the table linen should be absolutely separate," declared Julia authoritatively, beginning on the small collection of table stuff. "Please Grace, fetch me the basket." "I need the basket for my collection," objected Grace. "Mine is much the most. I have the underlies," she catalogued, holding up a dainty hand-made camisole that was surely never intended to enter an amateur washing contest. "Lovely," exclaimed Louise, dropping a pair of silk hose into the neat little pile of table linen. "There," cried Margaret. "We surely didn't undertake this as an inspection. Let's get right at the wash, Cleo, please put some water in the machine." "However do you do that?" asked Grace in genuine awe, for plainly the washing machine was not connected with any water faucet. "Why, I have to put that hose on that tub over there and fill it that way," proudly explained the wash-day hostess. "I should think, Margaret, if you are going to be boss you would understand something of the system," she joked. "Oh, I just love to be Margaret-by-the-day," answered the self-appointed supervisor, "but even she, you remember, did not know all about electric washing machines. Now let's see how the hose works." But no need to see, they could _feel_, for the hose had slipped from its niche in the washing machine, and seemed to be pouring out volumes of water on everybody. "Turn it off," shouted Louise, already pretty wet and surely getting wetter. To save more direct contact Cleo had pointed the nozzle at the roof, and now a light shower was descending on the erstwhile washerwomen, and their pretty little piles of selected apparel. Presently the faucet was reached and the hose properly directed into the cylinder, and while the water flowed in, Margaret put down the first batch, which was quite properly composed of the table linen. "Now the washing powder," called Cleo. "Here it is all nicely stocked and ready. I think it should be very lightly sprinkled on." "Oh no, never!" protested Louise. "That would simply eat holes in everything. You have to dilute it. I heard our maid say so." "All right, I just as soon," agreed Cleo, giggling helplessly. "But go ahead and dilute. I'm having trouble enough here." "Say," inquired Julia innocently. "I thought these electric washing machines did all the washing. Why don't they do it then?" and this afforded a new cause for laughter that simply demoralized the entire squad. Finally Grace had diluted the washing powder and was pouring it over the linen, regardless of their lovely colored borders, that should never have known anything stronger than the purest soap. Then the cylinder cover was clapped on and fastened (Cleo understood the importance of this), and while all the girls stood at a safe distance she threw in the switch, and touched the button. Thereat the Girl Scouts' washing went on as merrily as a merry-go-round at a picnic. "We can go out and play croquet while it washes," announced Cleo grandly. "That's the beauty of these washers." They agreed that was real beauty, and off they romped to the brand new croquet set, to try their skill at pegging balls under wire wickets. "I think I'll go in and make the starch," Margaret proposed, as she missed a wire. "Those clothes will be done presently, and we mustn't wait too long between the acts. You know how tiresome that always is." "Well, if you insist," replied Cleo. "You will find the starch where I got the powder. Just help yourself," and off went the practical Margaret, quite determined to earn her title of "boss." But there were no directions on the starch box. That was queer thought the little scout, every box should carry its own directions. But of course, it must be very simple to make starch. One pours water on it surely, she did that. Then one cooks it--Margaret proceeded to do that, and before she could reach a spoon to stir the mass, the lovely white starch had congealed into a big bubbly pan cake, that wouldn't stir, wouldn't turn and wouldn't--do anything, but burn--and my, how it did burn! "Looks like a real pudding," she told herself in desperation, trying frantically to move the mass from the bottom of the white enameled pan. The odor of the burning starch brought her companions in on a run. "What's the matter? Don't burn down the house," implored Grace. "My, that's worse than the fish cake Cleo burned in the mud hole in the woods. You don't make starch solid, Margy, you have to make it runny, all gooy like, don't you know?" "Of course, I know," retorted Margaret, "but I didn't do this, it did itself. I had it all nice and gooy for about half a second, then it cemented into adamant. There! I hate starch!" she admitted, ending up in a gale of laughter that advertised defeat. "Oh, run out and stop that motor Louise," called Cleo. "It has been running half an hour." As the starch making process was being operated in the kitchen, and the machine was out in the laundry, Louise left the former conference to attend to the latter requirement. "Oh my!" shouted Louise, "Come here, it's shooting sparks all over!" And just as she said, the motor was emitting a series of flashes that flew around with absolute disregard of aim or purpose. It took sometime for Cleo to get up courage enough to touch the black button, and when finally the machine stopped the little group looked about at the ruin of their hopes. Then they laughed, and laughed, and roared and laughed, until Julia ran over to her cottage, fairly kidnapped her own faithful maid, who, to save further disaster, came to the log cabin and reluctantly finished the unfortunate wash. As the girls hung the pretty white garments on the line, they each decided to make a note of the fact that handkerchiefs and napkins are never starched, and that starch must first be thoroughly dissolved in cold water before boiling water is added. Also, that it is very important to have a spoon in one's hand and begin stirring as the pouring is begun. But Margaret-by-the-day proved an interesting game, if it did slip a cog or two in its development. CHAPTER V CAPTAIN DAVE "I WOULD never have believed that real scouts could have failed so miserably in a mere washing," complained Grace; "in fact, I am almost wondering if we should not go into ashes and broadcloth, and ask to be trained laundresses. It seems to me rather humiliating." "Ashes and broadcloth," repeated Cleo thoughtfully. "Oh, you mean sackcloth and ashes. That's in a different department--Con Grazia, also a different priced goods. But I don't believe we need worry about the laundry work. Mother thought we were perfectly heroic to undertake the task, and she was pleased to death to see the lines of sparkling linens waving welcome to her as she hailed in from the train. Also, she admitted the same starch mistake we made, that of stiffening handkerchiefs when she first tried out the process. So perhaps that's a regular human weakness and not peculiar to raw scouts, rookies, I suppose I should say." "I am so glad your mother approved, Cleo. I feel better now. I must confess I was rather crestfallen after all our noble, heroic, spectacular stunts. But sufficient unto the day is the trouble thereof, as some one has remarked. Now Cleo, I want to tell you something," and she settled down deeper in the porch cushions at "Rosabell." Also she kicked off a new pair of pumps to remove pedal distractions. "You know Cleo, I have heard that a lot of small fires do start up mysteriously around here. And no one has been able to run down the fire bug. I heard some men down at the Post Office talking about a run the fire department had last night. Away out some place just for a chicken coop. They seemed peeved, as Louise would say. Now I feel we have a clue in that bottle note, but after all our other experiences perhaps it would be better for just you and me to go at the mystery first. More hands always seem to me like more mixups." "Really, Grazia, you alarm me with your wisdom," replied Cleo, affixing a very foolish giggle to the alarm signal. "I just wonder what will happen if you go getting so mighty wise all of a sudden. But I do think you are right just the same. Many hands mean mighty mixups. That's alliteration. You see I'm sticking to lit." "I wish you would stick to common sense, Cleo. I am not wishing any hard work on the scouts for this glorious summer, but I feel, I instinctively feel, as Julia says, there is something queer to curiosity in the fire-bug business. Also, I have found my old Jack Tar friend, that I promised myself when we came down. And he is captain of the Life Saving Station just as I planned. Only--well--it really isn't essential, but his whiskers are not quite as long as I planned them to be. But Cleo, I want you to meet old Neptune. His name is Dave Dunham, and he seems to love me already. Come on down and have a talk with him. He has a place like a scene in an old fashioned drama." "I'd love to go, Grace, and I am just keen on an ocean breeze this A. M. So gather up your pumps, also your feet, and let us away," decided Cleo. The weather was still cool, and true to their promise the girls were wearing their scout uniform, all khaki, with the thin blouse, so that running along to the life saving station they seemed quite a part of the picture. The real marine sky--that green blue with white clouds as soft as the very foam they roll over, gave the day a finish fit for the true artist's eye, but Cleo and Grace did not stop to admire the tints and tones, whether marine or general seascape. "How cozy," whispered Cleo as they stepped into the front room of the station, which was fitted up with such comforts as might be essential to the life of the Coast Guard. The big round pot stove was obviously the most conspicuous thing in the room, and beside it such furniture as the long table with its faded red cover, the big wooden chairs, with bindings of wires and telegraph glasses for castors (rheumatic cures, we recall), all these articles fell into the shadows of that big round stove, with its new coat of shiny black iron paint. "Captain Dave!" called Grace, after looking about for the host. "Are you in?" "Sure thing, I'm in, right here, comin'," returned a voice which preceded the figure of Captain Dave. "Good morning, Captain," Grace greeted him. "This is my chum, Cleo Harris, you remember I spoke of her. We are all Girl Scouts, you know," as he eyed the uniform and both girls raised their hand in salute. "Maybe you can give us something to do with all of your life lines, and buoys and such things. We don't know much about life saving on the deep, although we have tried it on dry land," said Grace. "Welcome," said the old sailor simply. "We don't have hard work this time of the year, but we need the rest after winter. This was a heavy one. More storms than in thirty years," he declared, pulling out two of the heavy wooden chairs, running his hand over them to make sure they were free from dust, then indicating the girls should make themselves comfortable, while he proceeded to occupy a still larger chair that commanded a view of the sea from the broad window. "Captain, what do you think of all those small fires we hear folks talking about?" asked Grace in her direct way. "Do you suppose some mischievous boys are starting them?" The captain turned his head to the direction in which he was emitting his clouds of smoke, paused for a minute, then shook his head. "I dunno," he replied. "I know most of the youngsters around here, and I've never known them to do a thing like that. There was seven good hens burned in that little fire last night, and old Dick Malloney has to depend on selling eggs to get his coffee. It's a shame!" and he allowed his heavy chair to spring forward with a pronounced thud. "We have only been down a week," remarked Cleo, "but I have noticed smoke almost every morning out in those woods over the river. I suppose some one lives that way, do they?" "You mean on the island," he explained. "That's Weasle Point, sticks out into the bay and just west is the island; not more than a clump of trees on a few rocks, but big enough to stand the wear, so it is called Luna Land, but children make it Looney Land," he explained. "A couple of huts in there, but no place for you girls to go visitin'," he finished, as if divining the plan already shaping itself in the minds of Grace and Cleo--a trip to Looney Land. "Why Looney Land?" asked Cleo. "Queer folks out there?" "Dunno as any folks is out there, but places get named somehow, just like they get trees, no plantin' just come that way. Looney Land doesn't mean anything that I know of except the moon seems to set over there. But one thing I do know," and he made this very plain, "it's a good place for girls to keep away from." Grace and Cleo exchanged glances. It occurred to each that the forbidden land was very apt to become attractive, but neither said so, nor asked how Looney Land was to be reached. "You have awful storms in winter, don't you?" asked Cleo, fingering an oil skin coat, and noticing the big shiny hat that hung with it on a wooden peg. "And I suppose you have wrecks occasionally." "Yes, more than we enjoy," replied Captain Dave. "Had a bad one two years ago. See that little pole stickin' up out there beyond the pier? That's all that's left of the Alameda, and a fine vessel she was, too." "Lives lost?" asked Grace mechanically. "Oh, yes indeed, yes indeed," replied the captain. "Some folks around here yet that was thrown ashore from that wreck. I mind one light haired woman, and a youngster--little girl. We took them in here from the line, you know how we swing the rings out on the line, and draw the poor things in? Well this woman was so frozen we could hardly get the child from her arms. She died next day, just as we got her to the hospital." "What was her name--the girl's name, I mean?" asked Grace, interested now that "life" had been discovered in the specter of the wreck. "Oh, some simple name--don't know as I recall it rightly. They usually tag on another. We have quite a few folks pass in and out of this station in thirty years--I've been here more than that, and I don't keep no record of my visitors. They are mostly glad to come and glad to go," and the captain lighted a fresh pipe, by way of turning over a new leaf in his story. "I suppose there were the usual papers for the little girl from the wreck," prompted Cleo. "They always turn out to be somebody of account, lost at sea and found years later on land. You know how stories have a way of shaping themselves, Captain," she apologized, "and I am sort of interested in stories." "You'll find plenty around here, without concocting them," the seaman promised. "Not a broken oar in that loft but is a record of some boy's courage, and not a boat do we break up for firewood but with it goes many a story of heroism that never was printed," he added eloquently. "And you think we ought to keep away from Looney Land?" Cleo forced herself to ask, being a trifle reticent about recalling the question Captain Dave had so decisively spoken upon. "Oh, I don't know as there's any great harm in the little splash of an island," he replied. "But when young 'uns keep saying 'look out' and 'don't go near,' I allus' believe they know what they're talking about. I hain't never hearn any grown up say rightly the place is pested, in any way, but the young 'uns just naturally shuns it, and kids often make a mighty good barometer--can tell when a gale is brewin'." At this the captain showed signs of having some work to do, so the girls arose and thanked him for his hospitality. They had enjoyed the visit, and on leaving, captain Dave promised to let them see a life drill some afternoon. "Isn't that queer about Looney Island?" asked Grace, directly they reached the board walk. "Luna Land is a pretty enough name, especially as Captain Dave says the moon sets over there, but 'Looney Land' is different," she declared. "We will surely have to explore those parts, Cleo, even if we do have to take a life saver's kit along with us." "And did you notice Weasle Point? Of course our fire-bug must belong somewhere out in that sand-bar, and just as much of course, we will have to find out all about the queer diggin's. Better not tell Julie, she is so nervous, and I'm sure Margaret would want to fetch along our only two town police officers, she is so practical. There they are--the girls, I mean. See them just turning around 'B' street? Coo-ee--Whoo-ee!" called Cleo, her hand cupped to her lips to send out the yodle. Cutting across the little stretch of green that bound Glimmer Lake, Margaret and Julia were soon on the board walk. "Oh listen!" shouted Julia. "Listen!" she repeated in that useless way girls have of holding off news. "We are listening, of course," replied Grace, "but get your breath or you'll choke. What's the excitement!" "That funny girl with the tongue," Margaret managed to say, before Julia could get her breath. "She's the queerest thing. She followed us all the way from the village. We turned corners, and so did she; we hurried, and she hurried, and when we stopped, she stopped. Isn't that too impudent for words? I think we ought to report her," declared the indignant Margaret. "Report her for doing the things we do?" laughed Cleo. "Why, Margaret, who would think you were a first class scout? I'm surprised," and the girl's voice mimicked the severe tones of a prim elder. "Just the same," Julia insisted, "I can't see why she should be allowed to plague us and molest us in the streets." Julia was not quite sure "molest" was the word, but it had an important sound and all the girls seemed impressed by it. "Aren't we special officers?" protested Grace. "Why shouldn't we do our own--our own policing? Let's form ourselves into a squad, and track down the culprit," and she rolled her tongue, as well as her eyes. "Let us sit down and talk it over," suggested practical Margaret. "I'm ready to drop from all the paces we made samples of to suit our trailer." "Where did she go?" asked Cleo. "Ducked into a little shanty with a laundry sign on the fence," replied Julia, "and we were so glad to be rid of her we just raced all the way down B street." "And look!" said Margaret. "There's our other hero. The boy with the books. See, he is making for a quiet bench, and look! That's yellow paper sticking out of his pocket. Let's watch him! Maybe he will get our bottle letter." But the studious boy with the books and papers made straight for the bench, and finding a seat proceeded to read. He didn't even notice the girls when they brushed past him. CHAPTER VI CRABS AND DISASTER "ARE you perfectly sure it is safe?" asked Cleo. "Seeing the bottom here doesn't mean we can see it all the way across." "Why, you could walk across the river, really," replied Louise. "Even at high tide it's not more than a big pond." "Oh, do come on," begged Grace. "Think of catching crabs." "But who knows how to row?" demanded the cautious Cleo. "I do!" called Margaret. "I always rowed out in the pond at Flosston." "And so do I," insisted Julia. "We go to Lake George sometimes, and I have tried rowing in the smaller streams there." "And I have always known how to row," replied Louise emphatically. "That being the case I suppose I must make the crabbing party unanimous," capitulated Cleo, "although I should not enjoy a spill out here so near the inlet." "We will go up stream, the other way," conceded Louise, delighted at the prospect of their crabbing party. "Come on, here is where we hire our boat, and get our crabbing outfit." Down to the landing that jutted out into the shallow Round River, the girls hurried to procure their fishing outfit. "A flat bottomed boat," urged Cleo. "All right," agreed Louise. "But any big boat will do. There are four of us. One basket and four poles," she ordered from the prim little gray haired woman who kept the stand at the landing. "And bait," went on Louise, while the other girls marveled at her marine intelligence. "Oh, what smelly stuff?" sniffed Grace, taking the basket and holding it out at arm's length. "That's the bait," explained Louise. "I'm never going to eat fish as long as I live," resolved Cleo. "Each time I meet it it smells worse." "The same fish naturally would," joked Louise. "But this is only bait Cleo--bait, don't you know what that means?" she teased, swinging the obnoxious basket up to a line with Cleo's face, where avoiding the odor would be impossible. A boy was unfastening their boat, and he placed the oars in the locks just as the girls reached the water's edge. "Don't tip," cautioned Julia. "We could at least get wet, even in this shallow water." Grace and Margaret took the oars, and soon the crabbing party was gliding out among the few vacationists who were taking advantage of the pleasant afternoon on the water. "Oh, look!" exclaimed Cleo. "There are the crabs! Where's our bait and things?" "We have to load up first," explained Louise, assuming the role of fisherman. "Get your lines out, look out! Don't tangle them." "But how do we hook them?" asked Julia, who was gingerly affixing an unfortunate little "shiner" on her line, to serve as bait for the foolish, greedy crab. "We don't hook them, we catch them in the nets," further explained Louise. "I came out with daddy last week." "Oh, no wonder you are so wise," said Cleo, struggling with her line. "I simply couldn't imagine what degree of scouting you learned to fish in; because I didn't." "We recall what a lovely time you had in Allbright woods," Grace reminded Cleo. "But then it was at cooking fish you especially qualified," she added referring to an incident related in "The Girl Scout Pioneers." "Oh, yes. My explosive mud ball!" assented Cleo. "But this is different. Ugh! I shall never, never brag of clean hands again after this. There, my fish is tied on the sinker; now what do I do, Weasie?" "Don't rock the boat, that is always first and last orders," replied her chum, "and next, just throw your line out in any direction you choose." "Oh, I see. You just guess where the crabs are," replied Cleo, quite interested, as her bait was leaving port, so to speak. "There! That's the best part of the fun--taking aim," and she gracefully tossed her flying line out into the water. The other girls had likewise "cast," and now all were patiently waiting for a bite. "Now, when you feel a pull," advised Louise, "just bring it up and slip your net in quietly, and scoop up Mr. Crab. There! I've got one! Now watch!" Just as she had ordered the others to do, Louise now scooped up her net, and in came a good sized blue crab. "Oh, look out," cried Grace. "Crabs bite fearfully. Louise, you are not going to turn that thing loose in this little boat?" she wailed. "Don't worry Grace; he goes right in his little basket. There!" and with a skillful motion Louise did turn the squirming shell fish into the basket. "He's crawling out!" shrieked Julia. "Oh, we should have a cover for the basket." "No," Margaret said, shaking the basket and thus settling the nervous crab. "He can't get out. He is just exercising. My, how clawy he is! How many like that would it take to make a meal?" "Quite a few I should think," replied Cleo. "For I know we don't eat the shell. But this is fun. Let me have another try. My turn to land one now," and again she cast out and patiently waited a bite. The next shout of victory, however, came from Julia's end of the boat, and she presently landed a very large crab, so large and lively in fact, that all four girls helped to get him in the basket. "Now, they'll fight," murmured Margaret. "See the way they claw each other." "Come on girls," called Louise. "We'll never fill our baskets if we hold an autopsy over every catch. Here! I've got another," and into the basket went another unfortunate. "It's just like a game, and I think the chance of grabbing one is as good fun as grabbing at Cross Tag," Cleo remarked. "Oh, there's one, Grace; look at your line dragging!" And so it went on until the crabs were piling up in the basket and threatening to get out, in spite of the sea weed that was heaped on much thicker than necessary, according to the opinion of Louise. So intent were the girls on their crabbing game they had not noticed the other craft drifting about them. Suddenly Grace pulled so hard at Cleo's sleeve she almost lost a catch in the attempt. "Look!" begged Grace. "Over in that boat! Wise Willie, the boy with the book." They all paused to observe the graceful green bark, in which was seated the boy with the book, as Grace described him. And as usual the book was very much in evidence. In fact, his oars lay in their locks, and he was drifting aimlessly as if the river were his, instead of the earth, according to Monte Cristo. "Let's give him a scare and see if he is alive," suggested Cleo. "Suppose we row up to him and ask him if he knows where the Weasle lives," proposed Grace. "Oh, please don't," implored Julia, who showed signs of nervousness. "Why should we disturb him--he's only reading?" "Oh, you like Wise Willie," teased Margaret. "Here's a flower from my belt, toss it to him, Julia." But in spite of their joking the boy in the boat, all unconscious of the attention he was the center of, merely drifted on, until first one oar, then the other slipped out of the boat, and floated down the river. "I believe he _is_ unconscious," Grace continued to joke. "Now, of course, we have to rescue his oars." "Why?" asked Julia innocently. "Or tow him in, if you would rather, Jule," suggested Louise. "Don't you realize we are bound by traffic laws to assist a stranded boatman?" "But he isn't stranded, and he doesn't need help," replied Julia with a show of something like temper. "Why should we speak to a strange boy?" she demanded. "And why shouldn't we?" fired back Cleo. "If he isn't stranded it is because he hasn't struck the strand yet; just watch him." They dropped their nets and watched the boy, who, bent over his book, drifted along without the least sign of regard for his situation. Meanwhile the oars had drifted farther and farther away. A passing motor boat swelled the tide to a current and this washed them almost out of sight of the watchers. "Being a boy we hesitate to hail him," said Louise. "Now, if that were a girl----" "Oh, if it were," interrupted Julia, with a meaning tone. "All the same the poor boy may be late for dinner," said Grace foolishly. "Let's hail him!" and she cupped her hands to her lips. "Please don't," begged Julia. This objection brought forth a perfect volley of cynicism. Finally, Cleo took up one oar, and Margaret the other, and they proceeded in the direction of the floating propellers. As they passed the boy's boat, the girls spoke loudly of "some one losing his oars," but even this did not arouse him. "Maybe we'll have to row him home," said Grace. "He doesn't look as if he cared much whether he ever gets back to land or not." It took but a few moments to get his oars, and again the girls turned up stream. "Who is going to give them to him," asked Louise, with a foolish giggle. "We are noble scouts--we are!" mocked Cleo. "Mine be the task! A-hem!" and here a fit of laughter spoiled the proposed effect. "Here are your oars!" called Grace, before the others could realize what she was about. But no boy answered. "Say!" yelled Margaret, taking courage from Grace. "Say, boy! Here are your oars!" Still no answer. Louise took an oar and gave the drifting boat a vigorous shove. At this the boy did look up, and for a moment he seemed to comprehend; then he jumped up so suddenly he toppled over into the water between the two boats! "Oh, mercy!" cried the girls, in one voice. "The river is deep enough here!" exclaimed Louise. "Give him an oar to climb on." A sudden scream from the boy in the water brought the melancholy news that he could not swim! His boat drifted off as quickly as it was freed from his weight, and the girls were not quite near enough to reach him. "Hurry, hurry!" begged Louise, who was now rowing. "He may sink, then what would he do?" But the boy was splashing around making a brave attempt to keep up, and really doing so by the flat handed action with which he patted the water. All embarrassment was now forgotten, as the scouts pulled up carefully to where the boy was just bobbing up and down, each movement adding to his peril. "Climb in!" commanded Louise as they reached him. But he could scarcely put his hand to the oar, and the girls noticed his face was blue white. "Oh, dear me!" cried Julia, "he is fainting or something," and nervous though she was, it was she who managed to get the first grip on the weakened boy. It was no easy matter to get him into the boat; he was struggling and gasping for breath, and could make very little effort to help himself. Finally, when all four girls had succeeded in keeping the boat balanced and dragging him into it, he gave one painful gasp, closed his eyes, and sank into unconsciousness. CHAPTER VII A DIFFICULT SITUATION "WHERE shall we take him?" asked Grace in dismay. "To the landing," replied Cleo, who still rowed with Margaret, while Julia clung to the stern of the boat in horror. The boy looked so lifeless! Could he be dead? As he lay there his delicate features seemed more than death-like; they seemed dead! "Oh, mercy, do hurry!" pleaded Grace. "Let me help you pull," she asked, getting hold of Margaret's oar. The small boat was now over crowded, and it was with difficulty the girls managed to give the boy sufficient room. "Can't we call any one?" suggested Julia. "Not any one in sight now," replied Louise. "We spent more time than we imagined. See, it is sun down." "But what made him go like that?" Margaret whispered. "He had only been in the water a few minutes." "Maybe the fright," said Cleo, noticing how high the lad's forehead was, and with what evident care he had been dressed. His glasses were still on, and the sunset made ghostly shadows on his face. "I'm so glad he didn't topple over when I touched his boat," said Louise. "I should have thought it all my fault, if he had." "Nonsense," replied Grace. "He was bound to fall overboard. He did not seem to know he was on the water. But isn't it too bad there is no one around to call? Every one is gone now." They rowed as vigorously as their young arms could serve the strokes, and it took but a few moments to get out in a straight line for the pier. As the girls came within hailing distance of the dock the captain there, seeing something was wrong, hurried to the steps to meet them. "What's this? What happened?" he asked. "He fell overboard. Oh, please hurry to revive him," pleaded Julia. "He looks so death-like." Leaning over the boat the man picked the frail boy up in his arms and carried him up the pier as quickly as it was possible to do so. "He moved. Look!" called Julia. "See, he is moving! Oh, I am so glad he is not dead." "He could hardly have died," replied Louise, thus reassuring her nervous companions. "Still, I am glad to see he does move. Do you think we should follow them up there?" "Oh, see the crowd gathering," exclaimed Margaret. "We can't do anything to help. Let's row out and bring in his boat. We would attract a lot of foolish attention up there." This was considered the best plan, and without being noticed the girls pulled out again, and only watched the excitement from the distance. Presently they heard an automobile start off from the pier and at this the crowd was seen to disperse. "I guess they are taking him home in a car," said Cleo. "Dear me, do you suppose it was our fault that he fell overboard?" "Why, no indeed," protested Margaret. "But we saved him. He might easily have been lost if we hadn't. Somehow he seemed half asleep. He might have really been sleeping. Boys often do that while out rowing." They managed to catch the drifting boat, and Grace got in this to row. As she did so she could not help observing a number of folded slips of yellow paper that lay tossed aside, in the bottom of the boat. But Grace had no thought of scrutinizing them. Somehow such an act would seem like spying. Briskly both boats were now rowed back to the landing. No one was near, and when the scouts turned in their oars and paid for their boat, only a boy was at the stand. "Was he hurt?" asked Cleo eagerly. "Oh no, just scared. He's all right," replied the boy handing out some change. "Who is he?" asked Grace frankly. "Oh, a chap that lives at the Point--don't know his name. He's awful quiet and queer--just reads his eyes out--no wonder he wears goggles," finished the clerk, turning to pop a soda for a waiting customer. The girls breathed easier. Somehow they were each conscious of a dread, and the boy's report had dispelled it as if by magic. "Oh, say!" he called after them as they were moving away. "Are you the girls who rescued him? Well, he especially warned me to get your names?" This was in question. "But we shouldn't like to have him bother thanking us," returned Cleo, as spokesman. "We only did a scout duty." "Oh yes, that's so. You're scouts. Aren't you? I'm a scout too, but we haven't any girls' troop around here. Wish you would start one." "We may," assented Margaret. "But did you talk to the boy after he revived? Was he perfectly all right?" she questioned pointedly. "Guess so, but he's a queer chap. Can't tell whether he's all right or all wrong, he's such a stick. Excuse me, here's where I sell a real order," and he hurried over to an old lady who was vainly trying to shut an obstinate parasol. Again the girls turned away, and the clerk had not fulfilled his promise to get their names; neither had they obtained the name of the stricken boy. "But I feel a lot better," admitted Cleo. "Somehow, it isn't nice to see a boy as still as he was." "I should say not," added Grace. "And I couldn't help thinking of Benny. I've never seen him still in his life, but I don't ever want to see him as quiet as that. And say, girls--" and she drew as many of them to her as her arms would reach, "the bottom of that boat was full of _yellow_ paper rolls!" "He couldn't be the fire-bug!" protested Louise. "I don't believe he could either," went on Grace, now really serious. "But I thought I ought to mention about the papers." "And the boat man's boy said he lived over on the island," mused Cleo. "I'm glad we got out of leaving our names. He might come around to thank us--and he might carry--a torch!" This sally revived the girls' spirits to the extent of producing the first laugh they had enjoyed since the accident; and to demonstrate the possible torch bearing, Cleo paraded on ahead with a long stick up-raised, while Grace and Louise followed with the crabs squirming in their basket. "Now, we shall divide the spoils," said Margaret, when the town was reached, and the group should separate for their respective cottages. "How many are there?" queried Cleo. "Any one may have my share," offered Julia. "I don't ever want to see a crab again as long as I live," and her face fell to positive freezing point. "Now, Julie dear, don't take on so," teased Grace. "No telling what our Wise Willie may turn out to be, and just think--you held his foot when we dragged him in." "Grace, just you stop, I am nervous," pleaded Julia, "and I didn't hold his foot, it was his hand." If Julia was really nervous, the laugh and merry-making that followed her naïve remark must certainly have dispelled the quakes, for presently she was shaking with laughter rather than with nerves. "But the crabs!" insisted Grace. "Let's draw for them," and she dragged the girls over to a little terrace where they unceremoniously squatted down. "Here are nice long and short straws," offered Louise, breaking off some tall grass ends. "Julia, you can say which wins, long or short?" "Please don't ask me to decide anything about those crabs," protested Julia. "And if you don't mind I'll just run along. Mother expects folks to dinner. I had a lovely time--" she stopped to allow the girls' laugh time to penetrate. Force of habit in "having a good time" seemed too absurd now, when all were just recovering from the accident shock. "Oh, we know what you mean, Julia," teased Grace. "You had a lovely time holding Willie's foot--hand I mean, I forgot it was his hand." But Julia was off, down the avenue, her light hair floating like a cloud about her shoulder, and her slim figure--the girls called it svelt--still proclaiming her the little girl, in spite of her grown up manners. Every one liked Julia; she was pensive and temperamental, but distinctively individual withal. "No use my winning those crabs," said Margaret, "we haven't any one to shell them, or cook them, or do anything with them." "You can put them in a tub of water and let them grow up," suggested Cleo, drawing a long straw, when a short one would decide the crabs. "There, Louise, you have them. Take them! I hope they make you a lovely salad, and that they don't make you sick." CHAPTER VIII AT WEASLE POINT "ISN'T it queer how no one seems to know any one else?" remarked Grace, with more words than meaning. "You mean every one seems a stranger to every one else," added Cleo, affecting the same ambiguity. "Yes; to put it collectively, the whole town is being populated by rank 'furriners,'" said Louise, "but I can explain the analogy. You see, when summer comes the natives pack up and leave their homes to rent them profitably. That means only the post-master, and store keepers stay put." "I have asked more questions and got fewer answers since I came to Sea Crest than I would have believed possible to ask and not receive," declared Cleo. "But what is your special trouble, Grace?" "I asked a couple of girls who our queer Letty was and they didn't know. Now, they were barefoot and peddling clams, the kind they dig up in the sand, and does it seem possible they would not know that girl?" "They may come in from another town," suggested Louise. "It is quite possible they wouldn't know a thing but clams. I have found that out. But let's hurry off. I've got the lunch, and we are not to go farther than the Point. I have learned that girls go out there with perfect safety, and there's a nice little ice cream place tended by a perfectly prim, gray-haired lady, who keeps an eye all over the Point. It must be a very small point, or the woman must have a long distance eye," finished Louise. "We are going in the launch, of course," asked and answered Cleo. "I had to assure mother that the man who runs it has a brand new license, and I almost promised to bring back the number. Mother is so afraid of all sorts of motors." Ready for the excursion to Weasle Point, Grace, Cleo, and Louise, garbed in their practical scout uniforms and armed with fishing rods and a lunch box, started off in time to take the River Queen on its first trip of the afternoon. A few other passengers embarked with the girls; a mother with a small son and daughter, two business men, and the boy with supplies for the island fruit stand. This number seemed to satisfy the captain who, after counting heads, started off. Across the river, then into the bay that widened as it neared the ocean, the River Queen glided gracefully over to the little strip of land jutting out, with its clump of deep green pines, and the ever present picnic sign. "Isn't this lovely?" exclaimed Louise. "I am so sorry Julia had to go to the city." "And that Mary is not down yet," added Cleo, "but we can come again. It's a perfectly lovely sail." Landing at the improvised dock the girls quickly found the most secluded corner of the little grove, and although they had lunched at home, the sail was a potent appetizer, and the proposed spread was eagerly arranged. It was very quiet on the strip of sand selected by the little party. Like a narrow ribbon the Point lay on the waters, and the deeper woodlands were evidently unpopular and little traversed, for not even a path greeted the scouts in their rambles. "I wonder why the place is called Weasle Point?" questioned Cleo. "Are we supposed to hunt weasels out here?" "I don't even know what the beast looks like," replied Grace. "Are they bearish or wolfish?" "Neither, they are little snappy things that eat birds," said Louise. "I've heard daddy tell of them--he's quite a hunter, you know. But I don't fancy we will be attacked." They had disposed of their lunch, and were exploring. All sorts of odd growing things were discovered, from the almost invisible wintergreen, that hugs the earth as if fearful of standing alone, to the wide spreading sweet fern, that lords it over every other green thing under the trees. More than once shouts of "Snake!" were sent up, and each time this proved to be a false alarm, or the snake must have made good its escape, for no horrible crawling reptile came to view, in spite of the most desperate thrashing of bushes, and beating of brush, following each alarm. "Oh, see here!" called Louise, who had wandered some distance from her companions. "Here is the dearest little dove, eating our lunch crumbs. He carried them out here to safety." Quietly the girls stole up to a pretty soft spot in the thicket, and there found a little pigeon enjoying the last crumbs of Cleo's cake. Although the approach meant some more crackling of leaves and sticks, the bird seemed not the least disturbed, in fact, as the scouts looked down he looked up with a perky twist of his graceful throat. "Must be tame," suggested Louise. "I hope those children down by the water don't come romping up to scare him off." Cautiously Grace approached in that steady, definite manner that always seems to mean still motion. The bird hardly fluttered, but when the girl threw out a few more crumbs he proudly hopped toward her. "He has something tied to his leg," said Grace, keeping her voice down to almost a murmur. "I believe he is a carrier pigeon." "Surely," agreed Louise, for the tiny speck on the bird's leg was plainly an aluminum strip such as marks the carrier bird. The same thought flashed through the mind of each--who would be sending private messages through that grove! "I suppose we wouldn't dare look at the note," said Grace. "They are always in a piece of gelatine under the wing." "My, no," replied Cleo, "that would be equivalent to robbing the mails." "But this mail seems to want robbing," said Louise quietly, "just see how he waits? Maybe this is his station." So intent were they on watching the dove they did not hear an approaching step. It came so stealthfully, creeping along the soft marshy ground, scarcely a sound broke the woodland stillness; only the voices of children down at the landing, giving evidence of other life than that of the Girl Scouts on the island. "Oh see!" said Grace. "This leg is hurt. Perhaps that is why he doesn't fly off," and noticing for the first time that the bird hopped on one slender leg, Grace stepped up nearer to examine the injury. As she did a voice sounded just back of the group, and a very sharp voice it was. "Hey there! You leave that bird alone!" came the shrill order. Turning, they confronted the girl they had privately named Letty. "Oh, is he your bird?" asked Louise confidently. "He seems to be injured, and we thought we might help fix the injury." "Oh, yes, you did," sneered the girl. "A whole lot you thought that. Guess you had an eye on Lovey's mail bag. Here Lovey!" she sort of cooed to the bird. The change in her voice was remarkable. It softened to a caress as she stooped to pick up the little carrier pigeon. First she looked at the leg, which, it appeared, had been hurt, but was mending. Assuring herself this was all right the child perched the bird on her shoulder and stood there a picture for the eye of an artist. Standing at a little distance the girls regarded her cautiously. There she stood in her bare feet, with a tattered dress, her hair cropped out as if cut with a single snip of a powerful scissors, and that pretty bird perched contentedly on her shoulder! After satisfying her inclination for this unconscious pose, she cuddled the bird in the crook of her arm, and again confronted the girls. "You don't ever want to interfere with anything around here," she warned, assuming again the high pitched voice. "And if you don't run away you might miss your boat." "Oh, we wouldn't mind," Grace had courage to say. "We are not afraid of the woods, and it's early yet. There seem to be other people here who have to get back to Sea Crest." "Snoopin' eh?" sneered the girl again. "Well, you want to watch out. You're the smarties that tried to drown Bentley, ain't you?" "Who said we ever tried to drown any one?" demanded Cleo, stepping up to the girl, whose bare feet looked almost black, and whose short hair stood around her face with the wildest effect--almost Fiji, the girls thought. "Well, I ain't saying Bentley did," she answered, "but some one did, and you better be gettin'." "Seems to me you are not very polite," said Louise. "Here we offer to help you fix up your bird, and you try to chase us," she declared. "Well, we are in no hurry, and don't you go saying anything about us drowning folks, do you hear?" and Louise surprised herself with her courage. "We saved a boy from drowning the other day, and were glad to do it, but we had nothing to do with the accident, and it won't be well for any one to spread malicious reports about us either!" Had the other scouts dared they would have applauded, but the occasion demanded different tactics. "Oh, ain't you smart! I suppose you're scouts too, in them rigs. Maybe you'll go tattlin' on me and try to have me 'pinched.' Well, there ain't nobody 'round here dasts to touch me, so you needn't bother." "We had no idea of tattling on you, but it seems you have taken a lot of trouble to bother us, since we came," retorted Cleo. "And you was down on the beach when the barrel went off and burned some of the guards things, wasn't you?" she went on, ignoring the charge Cleo had made. "You know they're after the firebug, an' you better watch out!" This seemed too much. The girls fairly fumed with indignation. "Yes, we were down there, and nearly got burned with the way that barrel went up," fired back Grace as quickly as she could get her breath, "but we don't know anything about the firebug _yet_. But we are going to. Do you know who the Weasle is?" she asked indignantly. "The Weasle!" and the girl burst into a choppy laugh. "Me, know who the Weasle is?" she repeated again. "That's a good 'un. Why don't you ask Bentley?" and before they realized her intention she stooped for the empty lunch box, and with her free hand threw it full force at Louise's head. Dodging it Louise was ready to start after the creature, but before she could do so they saw her reach the water's edge, jump into a skiff and row swiftly away. "Talk about cyclones," began Cleo, when she had recovered from her surprise. "Whatever do you call that human tornado?" "We don't call her," replied Grace. "I just think we ought to make a complaint about her. Think of her saying we tried to drown a boy!" "I'll tell you," said Louise soberly. "She isn't right in her mind." "But right enough to make a lot of trouble for folks," retorted Cleo. "There she goes now for Looney Point. Maybe that's what Captain Dave warned us to keep clear of." "Let's get down among the other people," suggested Grace. "It's a little too lonely up here." "And I guess we had better take the next boat back," added Louise. "Something might just happen that we would be left." When they reached the dock the launch was about ready to start, and piling in they soon found themselves again facing Sea Crest Pier. So the afternoon had been one of surprise and disappointment. CHAPTER IX THE FIRE AT THE PIER "WE must have a regular scout meeting," announced Cleo. "We may get into trouble if we are not careful. Grace, have you rounded up all the True Treds?" "I have," replied Grace, raising her finger in salute to the emergency captain. "They'll all be here at Rosabell, by eleven. And having Mary and Helen will give us a small troop." "That's splendid. Mary and Helen are Tenderfoots, of course, but they know the duties. I can scarcely believe that girl would actually say the things we heard her say, and then to throw that box at Louise!" "Just the same as pulling faces at us the first day we met her," said Grace. "I don't feel we ought to take her seriously. But you know there was another fire out Koto way last night, and it spoiled some lovely trees. Father says every one is so indignant about it, but never a person is found around to give a clue to the culprit." "And she insinuated that we made the beach fire," said Cleo indignantly. "Oh, that's pure nonsense, of course. But did you see how she acted when we asked her about the Weasle?" "Yes, she knows about that note, I'm sure," said Cleo. "But then she thinks she knows a lot of things. She certainly lives over on the Island, and so she couldn't very well start fires at night?" "But she rows like an Indian. Here come the girls. Now we will have a chance to talk it all over." The arrival of Helen, Mary, Louise, and Julia completed the group, and presently a summer session of the True Treds was under way. To the newcomers at Sea Crest the whole situation was explained, and nothing short of consternation followed its recital. "Do you mean to say no one knows this girl?" asked Helen. "No one we can find," replied Louise. "You see the whole town moves away when the summer folks come, all but the cleaners and the store keepers; and we didn't like to ask any of them." "I'm sure Captain Dave must know this girl," declared Grace. "I'm going down to the station this very afternoon and have a talk with him." "Saw him go out to Brightwater in a motor boat this morning," Louise said. "Well, we simply have got to keep up our troop tactics until we run this down," declared Cleo. "Think of her saying we tried to drown the boy!" "And she called him Bentley. That's rather a pretty name. He surely doesn't belong to her class," said Grace. "But he too is odd, we must admit," resumed Louise, "and he had the very same kind of paper we found in the bottle." "And his boat was covered with it," added Grace. "But you really don't think he could be malicious enough to start fires?" asked Julia. "I don't know," replied Grace. "They always say book-worms are queer, and surely he is a book-worm, if there ever was one." "I propose taking a trip to that Looney Island," said Louise directly. "I'd love to," followed Cleo; "but what about Captain Dave's warning?" "What did he say?" inquired Mary. "Why, he told us this Luna Island or Looney Land as the children call it, was a very good place to keep away from." "Did he say why?" asked Helen. "No; just hinted that children always feared to go over there, and he considers children the natural judges of danger. We know better. Here we are mere kiddies, and we are not a bit afraid," and she laughed at the idea. "In fact, we are just dying to go. How do you get there?" This from Margaret. "Take the launch to the point, then hire a boat and row over to the island. We saw 'the girl' do it. It's only a short distance." "Sounds alluring," said Mary, who was now a splendidly healthy little girl, quite unlike the timid creature discovered by the girls in our second volume, "The Girl Scouts at Bellaire." "You are almost chubby, Mary," remarked Grace. "I suppose you had a wonderful winter in the South with your folks." "Oh yes, wonderful," replied Mary. "But I would rather have been to school in New York with you girls. Perhaps next fall I can enter with you." "So it is all decided," prompted Helen. "We are to go to your Looney Land and capture the lunes. I wonder if we had not better bring a few brothers along?" "As scouts we scorn a body guard!" replied Louise, "although it might be well to leave a lookout over at the point." "When do we set out?" asked Julia, now as keen as her companions on the perilous expedition. "That must depend on the weather," said Cleo. "We can't brave the waters with overhung skies. If I'm not mistaken I hear thunder this minute." "Bring your wheels in," cautioned Grace. "Benny will put them in the garage. There! That surely sounded near by." In the cyclonic way storms have of gathering near the ocean, clouds tumbled over clouds, piling mountains high, then dipping down in veritable spouts ready to empty their weight of water on the shrinking earth. The weather had been just warm enough to precipitate this sort of shower, and before the first drops fell people scurried for shelter, deserting piers, and board walk, as if swept away by the reckless west wind. The Girl Scouts stayed on the porch until the lightning frightened them inside Rosabell cottage, then from the windows watched the vagaries of the summer storm. A sudden blinding flash of lightning and its immediate clap of thunder drove the girls from the window. "Oh!" shouted more than one. "Wasn't that awful!" "Listen!" as a gong sounded. "The fire bell!" cried Grace. "Get your coats; see the crowd over there! Let's run." Without a thought of the down-pouring rain, the Girl Scouts, garbed in such protective garments as they could snatch from the clothes-tree in the hall of Rosabell, raced over to cover the short distance to the pavilion, where the crowd was seen to gather from all directions. "What was struck?" Cleo asked a boy, who was trying to outdistance the bright red fire engine. "The pier, I guess," he replied, dashing on merrily at the prospect of some real excitement. A light film of smoke could now be seen steaming up through the rain at the end of the pier. But it was not likely a fire could make much headway in that downpour. The girls watched the rather primitive fire apparatus, with keen interest. Crowds of boys, numbers of men, and a scattering of girls and children, made the scene quite a lively one, to say nothing of the shouting of the volunteer firemen--the only grade that is allowed to shout at a fire. A line of hose was soon dragged out to the end of the pier, and almost before the happy urchins realized it the fire was out, back taps sounded from the tower in the village, and the fun was over. After the crowd had dispersed and the shower was entirely over, the girls walked down the pier to inspect the damage. On one of the benches near the end, an old man sat huddled alone, his fishing rod was at his feet, and his basket was beside him on the bench. As they approached he stood up, then sank down again unable to keep to his feet. "He must have been out here when the lightning struck," said Louise. "The poor old man!" They came up to him and he smiled feebly. "That was a big shower," said Helen by way of introduction. "Mighty heavy, mighty heavy," he answered, his words short and his voice very low. "Were you out here then?" asked Grace, beginning to realize that the old man must have been stunned. "Yes, and--it near--finished me," he replied, again trying to stand but ending by sinking back on the bench, heavier than before. "Oh, you poor old man!" said Julia. "We must help you home. Where do you live?" "Couldn't help me home," he replied with a sigh. "I have a long walk along the sand, and then the boat. Don't see how I'm going to make it though. That flash just did me up," and he stooped to gather his fishing things that had evidently been scattered when the hose was run down the pier. "Where do you live?" again asked Louise. "No matter how far away it is we can help you. We can take you in a car." "No cars go out that way," said the fisherman, mistaking Louise's meaning. "Oh, we mean in an automobile," she corrected. "Let us see if you can't lean on some of us while the others go for a car. We will be glad to help you," she insisted, feeling the Girl Scout pledge surge over her. It was quickly decided Grace should run for her sister Leonore, to get their car out, as Rosabell was the nearest cottage, and while she hurried off with Helen, Cleo and Louise assisted the old man to his feet. Meanwhile Mary and Julia gathered up his fishing outfit. He was old and feeble at best, but now, after his fright and shock from the lightning, he seemed leaden, as he leaned on Cleo from one side, with Louise at the other. Up the pier they led him, and at every step he either sighed because he had lost his power or blessed "the little girls who gave him a hand." It seemed to the scouts rather odd that no one had discovered his plight until they had found him, but after all, it was not hard to understand how an old fisherman could be overlooked in the excitement. Leonore had driven up with the car, and before the stragglers around the pier could question them, the girls had their charge in the comfortable seat, where he lay back in very apparent relief. "Which way?" inquired the young girl driving. "To the river dock," called Grace; and all crowded in the roomy car, they started off with their strange passenger. CHAPTER X PLANNING FOR ACTION "NOW, don't trouble another bit," protested the old man when Leonore pulled into the little boat landing. "I'll take the next boat across, and be all right, thank you for helping me. You're a fine set of girls." From the time they had left Borden's pier the girls had been tactfully trying to find out where he lived, and why they couldn't drive him directly to his place. But to all their inquiries he answered evasively, and was most positive in declaring they could not fetch him home. "But you are scarcely able to walk," protested Helen. "Why won't you let us drive around there with you? You know this car can easily cover that distance in a few minutes." "I'm sorry to seem ungrateful," he replied, and the girls noticed his voice was almost sobbing. "But I can't let you do it." "And you live on that Luna Island?" queried Grace gently. "I do, worse luck," he answered. "But we must take things as they come. There's Jenning's boat. He'll bring me across." They reluctantly assisted the aged passenger to alight and watched him climb into the rain-soaked launch. He stumbled and almost fell into the seat under the dripping canopy. Captain Jennings propped the leather cushions under his sagging arms, and as the girls turned away from the landing they heard the motor of the River Queen chug out. "No wonder they call that place over there Looney Land," remarked Julia. "It seems to me we are all meeting more of its loons every day." "We have come across quite a few," admitted Cleo. "But this old man was nice; I liked him." "Why didn't you ask him for a pass to the island then?" remarked Louise. "That still seems to be forbidden territory." "Yes, something like 'No Man's Land'. But did any one ever hear of 'No Scout's Land?' That's the beauty of belonging to a privileged organization." "Queer thing how every one warns us to keep away from there," said Julia. "Every one but Bentley. Wonder what he would say if we asked him for a pass!" "That's a brilliant idea, Julie," declared Margaret. "The very thing to do is to ask Ben." "I knew that boy's name ought to be something with Ben in it," remarked Grace. "I seemed to outline it in his face when he reminded me of my own wild, but adorable little brother Ben. Of course, we never see our own boys down here except at meals, or we might get them to help us." "We don't even get ours at meals," said Helen. "Mother says we might better all be in a hotel or boarding house, for all the home life we get out of our cottage." "Let's stop at our place and finish up our scout meeting," suggested Cleo. "The storm sort of broke up our session." So Leonore accommodatingly let them down in front of the Log Cabin, and on the spacious rustic porch there the interrupted meeting was again convened. "Grace, if you are going to act as secretary, I think you should keep records. When our summer is over we shall enjoy looking back at them." "All right," agreed Grace, preparing pencil and pad for notes. "We must remember," cautioned Margaret, "that we are pledged to protect ourselves as well as others. Now, how do we know it is safe to go to that island? Suppose there is some disease there?" "We must find out more definitely about that, of course," spoke up Mary, who was now a professed Tenderfoot. "It would be rash to run into some dreadful sickness." "Also, we must question our motives and make sure we are not doing this out of rank curiosity," declared Louise sagely. "That would be silly, even if pardonable, and I don't think we could make a very creditable report to headquarters on such a pretense." "Oh, that is clear enough," insisted Cleo. "It is just this way. We were confronted by this fire-bug thing, directly we struck the place, and its evidence has been piling up ever since. Every few nights a fire breaks out--and no one is able to discover the culprit." "And that note we found was a challenge. It was written for who ever might pick it up, and we happened to be the 'whoevers'" said Louise. "So it plainly seems like our duty to run down the Weasle." "But just why would you think the writer was on the island?" asked Helen, who, having come down late was not entirely familiar with all the details of the situation. "We haven't any positive reason for that supposition," admitted Margaret; "but things point that way, and we must run down that clue first. Besides, it is very strange how every one warns us to keep away from Luna Land. It makes it fascinating, to say the least." "Almost a good reason for going," remarked Mary. "And now girls, will you come over to the hotel this evening, if you are free from other engagements? We are going to have a children's entertainment in the ball room, and I would love to have every one come." "But our dresses?" asked Grace. "What should we wear?" "It's a novelty thing, and you can wear whatever you please," answered Mary. "How about all going as a troop? We would advertise the scouts, and it's lovely and cool now after that shower." "Oh, that would be splendid!" enthused Mary. "Since all the war work has moved off the earth nothing seems to have really taken the uniform's place. And as you say, it will be wonderfully cool to-night." "And another positive advantage to uniform is that one can't out-do the other in togs. I love that," declared Helen, "although we all have pretty party dresses." So the True Treds scattered, keen with the anticipation of novelty night at the Colonade. It is safe to guess that in the short time intervening there was much activity in each scout's home, in the matter of pressing uniforms, for even "going as a troop" would mean public inspection. Yet this amount of work was comparatively small compared with what might have been their task had dancing dresses been demanded. Into the gold and white ball-room of the Colonade the True Treds were ushered with quite an imposing ceremony a few hours later; and if Grace and Cleo wanted to giggle, the pomposity of the uniformed functionaries forbade any such frivolity. Mary was there to welcome them, and with her was her fashionable aunt, Miss Constance Hastings, who was also distantly related to Cleo, through the marriage of Cleo's aunt to Mary's father's brother--remote but definite, just the same. A perceptible stir was occasioned by the entrance of the girls; and since they were really quite a small troop, they walked in in pairs. Grace and Cleo led, then came Margaret and Louise, Julia and Helen, besides Isabel Gantor and Elizabeth Bissell, two True Treds who had come down that very afternoon, and altogether they made a fine showing for the scouts. After the first flush of excitement the usual exchange of compliments occupied the girls. Cleo had grown so much taller, every one thought so, and her gray eyes and fair hair were really "a lot prettier." Grace had better be careful or she would get stout, why not roll on the beach every day? Elizabeth suggested this, while the tables were then turned on Elizabeth herself, who was declared to be far from thin. "I am not getting fat," declared the jolly little Elizabeth. "I'm simply warped from being out in the rain. You should see my farm." Then Helen was warned that such beautiful coloring as glowed in her cheeks, and such shadows as lurked under her dark eyes would some day put her in the class of distinguished foreigners, but when she protested that Irish are not so considered, and that those characteristics were hers because of that sort of connection, the girls passed her by as "satisfactory." The opening strains of the orchestra prohibited further exchange of compliments or criticism, and the scouts paired off for a lively trot. All the dance seemed suited to their uniforms, in fact, most steps were then executed with some precision, rather military in effect. All about them buzzed the fairy-like children in such gorgeous styles, as seem specially concocted for big summer hotels; and resting between dances our girls had plenty of opportunity to observe the variety of plumage under which the little summer birds flew. It was during intermission that the master of ceremonies approached Isabel; she happened to be the tallest of the scouts, and he asked her if they would favor the company with some troop manoeuvers, but on consulting the other girls they declined to do so. "You see," Mary explained, as she was best acquainted with the hotel staff, "we could not do anything in public as a troop without permission. And while this is almost a private gathering, we feel it best to adhere to the rules." "Still it was flattering to be asked," commented Cleo. "Let's go out on the porch," suggested Mary. "We will have a beautiful view of the ocean to-night." But it so happened that something else than the scenic effect entertained them, on the spacious side porch of the Colonade that evening. CHAPTER XI AT THE COLONADE THEY felt quite like grown-ups out there in the moonlight, on the carpeted piazzas, with the music from the ballroom wafting out through the many open windows. Here and there in sheltered nooks, knots of young folks buzzed their confidences, while the scouts chose two long, low divans, directly off the exchange, where they might at once enjoy the music of the waves and the rhythm of the orchestra. It all seemed too pleasant to mar with ordinary conversation, so holding hands as girls will, the companions sank down to enjoy the wonderful summer night. They were not more than settled when two young men sauntered out of the smoking room and took the seat just back of their divan. The girls nudged each other, and squeezed hands, but did not emit the usual warning cough. "Well, I am glad to hear from Dick," spoke one of the men; "I tell you, he did great work in our little old war." "You-bet-y'u," replied the second voice, slurring his words together as young men do, and giving them that jolly twang peculiar to the college boy. "Yes, sir, Dick Gordon is some boy, and I'll be mighty glad to see him." Grace almost pinched Cleo's arm to the yelling point. "That's my Jackie--the one who owns my marine room," she said in a low voice. "Keep your window locked," cautioned Cleo. "And he's still on the blue?" went on the masculine voice. "Still is--you-bet-cha," replied his companion. "Regular Willie off the yacht, only he's bound to be Richard on the yacht. Seems some millionaire family he knew--there may be a girl in it--prevailed on him to take a yacht out this summer, so he's sailing her--the yacht I mean; I'm only guessing at the girl." Isabel coughed audibly. It was just like her to do so and she either had to cough or laugh, and she hastily decided on expressing herself in the least conspicuous outburst. For a few minutes the young men ceased speaking, and in the interval the girls undertook to carry on something like a conversation; at least they were endeavoring to make their presence known to the other occupants of that corner of the porch. Thus establishing a general hum of voices, remarks from the young men only floated in as the girls might pause, or giggle, or hesitate about staying longer from the dance floor. "So old Dick will be back before summer sundown?" they heard. "Sure thing, you bet'cha," replied the second voice, "and we'll all be here to give the cheers." "But the Gordon place is rented. Wonder what Dick will do without all his junk?" "That's so. Well, we can bring him here. All the gang will be back by that time." "Heard when and where he comes in?" "Depends upon the yachters, of course. But Dick said something about a lady's good health or bad health, I forgot which." A bevy of young ladies now discovered the youths who had been thus enjoying a smoke and talk, and the boys were promptly carried off to the ball room, where the strains of an alluring waltz were floating. "Now Gracie, see what's going to happen?" exclaimed Louise, as soon as talking thus was safe. "Your adorable Dick of the marine room is coming back on a yacht, and he's going to miss his junk." "And maybe he'll give us a sail on the millionaire's yacht!" suggested Grace. "See that it includes every True Tred. There, I believe the grown-ups are breaking in on our evening," complained Mary. "Let's make a march out of that waltz." "Don't you have wonderful times here, Mary?" asked Grace, entering the brilliant room again. "Yes, but I can't say that I like it better than a simple home life," replied Mary. "We travel so much, and it's hotel all the time----" "But you are going to spend next week with me," interrupted Cleo. "I hardly realize it yet that you are my really truly coz," and she gave the girl's long, brown braids a familiar twerk. "Whatever did you do with old Reda?" asked Grace, referring to the picturesque nurse who played so important a part in our second volume, "The Girl Scouts of Bellaire." "Daddy made her comfortable for life," replied Mary. "He considered she had done everything that she know how to do for me, and mother's folks decided she would be happier among her own people. But Aunt Constance asked me to bring you up to her sitting room to-night, and as soon as you have had enough of this, suppose we go up?" It was well the sitting room was spacious, for the scouts numbered quite a company. However the wealthy Miss Hastings greeted them warmly, and seemed greatly interested in their organization. "I can never forget how you discovered our little Mary for us," she said, placing her hand lovingly on Mary's shoulder, "and if ever I can do anything to help you, please let me know. It is splendid to have girls united under such principles. Mary has charmed me with her interpretations of your little manual." They thanked Miss Hastings for her interest, and smiled over the compliments. The girls were quite bewildered with the luxurious surroundings. Everything seemed so velvety, and so much cushioned, and all this was enhanced by the soft glitter of the shaded lights, and the rose-tinted glow of the color scheme. Here, at least, scout uniform seemed out of place. Miss Hastings was what we might discreetly call a mellow blonde, not implying or imputing anything artificial to her blondness. She had the very softest blue eyes, and wore the daintiest orchid tint gown; but in spite of her apparent luxury, she instantly inspired the girls with a feeling of ease and confidence. Mary fluttered about, displaying such trophies of her southern tour as might safely be carried to her hotel abode; and when the sight-seeing was done, Cleo exacted a promise from Miss Hastings, that Mary might spend a complete week with her. This was the signal for a perfect flood of similar invitations, and when the girls left the suite, their evening dance cards were well marked with dates to visit and dates to entertain Mary Dunbar, Cleo's popular cousin. "What worries me is that Dick boy coming over in the yacht," remarked Isabel jokingly. "Seems to me Grace is in for a wonderful time." "But he may be on shore leave," added Julia, "then he wouldn't be any more attractive than our 'you-bet-chu' chap," she said, indicating the young man who inserted that boyish expression so often in his conversation. The children were leaving the ballroom when the scouts took their final drink of pink lemonade, as Grace insisted on calling the fruit punch, and as they came out to the porch for their "good-nights," mothers and nurses were gathering the fluttering little ones to their arms. They were about to leave when a shrill voice from the hall startled every one, "Oh, come quick, a doctor! My baby is choking!" A mother uttered the cry. In an instant every one was in confusion looking for a doctor, but it so happened in all that big hotel at the moment no physician could be found. "What shall I do!" wailed the mother, now wringing her hands and begging for help. "I don't know how--to save--my darling!" Quick as a flash Julia broke away through the crowd and, followed by Louise and Helen, she made her way to the room of the distracted parent and the suffering child. On the bed lay the little child, gasping, choking, his face almost purple. No one had attempted to do anything but look on in horror, as people usually do under such exciting conditions. Julia, however, summoned all her courage and her scout training, and grabbing the little one before she had a chance to suffer from hesitation, she held his little heels high as she could stretch them, and shook him vigorously, while the distracted mother looked on in consternation. When the Girl Scout's strength failed, and she allowed the child to sink down on the bed again, the safety pin, he had almost swallowed, lay beside him on the coverlet. It was all over in so few minutes that Louise and Helen merely looked on to encourage Julia. "Oh, my darling, my darling!" wailed the excited mother. "Are you alive? Does he breathe?" "He will be all right directly," said Helen, surprising herself with her own calmness. "Just give him plenty of air." By now those who had assembled in idle curiosity had dispersed, leaving room for the other scouts to come within sight of the open door. Quickly as the chubby youngster recovered his breath he made a grab at the neck tie that floated from Julia's blouse. Then he wanted to play with the buttons on her skirt, and he evinced such other evidence of good fellowship that every one stood by in silent admiration. The mother, however, had recovered her composure sufficiently to thank Julia; and this she did most profusely. "What would I have done?" she asked. "I simply went to pieces, in a perfect panic, when I saw that boy choke. Oh, here is Neal," turning to greet a young man who just entered the room. "Neal, do come and meet these wonderful little girls. They saved the baby brother. In another moment, I am sure, he would have strangled." And before them stood one of the young men who had entertained them unawares on the West porch, an hour earlier. He added his thanks to those of his mother, while the baby brother kicked delightedly on the badly tossed bed. "And you knew more about it than mother," he remarked, a note of incredulity in his voice. "But I see you are scouts. They teach you emergency stunts in your organization, I suppose." "Yes," replied Julia covered with confusion and anxious to escape; and escape she did directly the good-looking Neal stepped aside, and bowed the girls graciously into the corridor. "I almost choked myself," admitted Louise. "I will do so yet," declared Helen. CHAPTER XII ON THE SANDS "AS a quiet evening it was a cyclone," said Julia to her congratulating companions. "I really was not sure whether I should shake both the heels at once, or in rapid succession, but when I saw that safety pin--oh, girls!" and she pretended to slink down into the supporting arms offered her. "Whether premeditated or a mere accident you did nobly," declared Margaret, "and I shouldn't wonder if handsome young Neal wouldn't want to join our troop. Isn't he stunning looking?" "But he is the friend of marine Richard--he who is coming in on the millionaire's yacht," put in Grace. "Therefore Julia, you and I shall divide the honors. Joking aside girls, what is our program for the morrow?" "Bathing, of course--high tide at ten-thirty," announced Julia. "After that we will pay a call at Captain Dave's Life Saving Station," said Cleo. "In fact we can run over there from the beach. We have simply got to find out all he knows about Luna Island." They were on their way home from the Colonade, and as it was still early, the streets were populated with summer visitors just leaving the pavilions, the boardwalks, picture theaters, or hotels. Each scout leaving the group left one less to the usual "last tag" game, which again became of interest to the young girls, not yet too dignified to enjoy such pleasure romps. Next morning at the beach a number of new arrivals were added to the list of their companions, as each day now brought its own quota of visitors to the popular summer resort, and it was surely "the more the merrier." "Good swimming in the cove," announced Cleo, "at least we call it the cove, but it's really a little lake, made smooth by the banked up sand bar. Come on everybody, up to Third Avenue." Surf boards added to the sport, and while every morning was a holiday at the beach, to-day seemed something of legal type; such a wonderfully merry time the colonists were enjoying. All the scouts were swimmers; Grace as usual was daring to the point of risk, Cleo quickly followed every prank she initiated, and the others found plenty of fun either attempting to follow, or originating their own brand of frolic. What is more alluring than the ocean on the right sort of summer day? Beyond the bar steamers could just be seen emitting their long, smoky ribbons over the water, that from the distance seemed so close to the sky as to be merely a first floor with that blue mottled ceiling. A few daring swimmers would work their way out in canoes, taking the rollers at constant risk of submersion, then come sailing in like a shot, never making a break in the dash until past the bathers, and out on the very beach each little bark would triumphantly land. This was great sport, but few girls were brave enough to indulge in it. The life savers, two stalwart youths, so bronzed as to glisten in the sun like copper models--sat on the high bench under the big beach sunshade. They could see above the heads of the crowds, far out past the danger line, and theirs was the responsibility of keeping track of every foolish boy, or more foolish girl, who ventured beyond the ropes. At last the scouts did get together, and made a run through the wet sand, along the edge toward the fishing pier, and from there it was only a matter of crossing the street to reach the life saving station. In a trot, popular as exercise after bathing, all four girls, Louise, Grace, Cleo and Julia started off. The far end of the bathing beach was now deserted, the hour approaching lunch or dinner always exacting the dressing process, hotel guests especially, being obliged to report in the dining-room on time. "Wait a minute, wait a minute," begged Cleo. "I thought I saw a piece of pink coral." "Pink coral doesn't grow around here," protested Grace. "You likely saw a blushing fish bone. Don't bother with it. You know how we made out with the pink crabs." "Yes," put in Julia. "Let's change our color scheme. Here's a lovely amethyst shell." The trot was started up again, heads erect, shoulders back, and elbows in--regular marathon for the beach on this perfect summer's day. "Look here!" called Cleo. "Here's another message about--fire-bugs. See it spells: 'L-O-O-K O-U-T'" she figured it out in the sand. "There, would you ever think one would be so daring?" They all paused to read the letters so crudely forked in the wet sand. "Yes," insisted Julia. "There's 'bug.' Guess they didn't dare write the word 'fire'." A lone figure on a lone bench up near the boardwalk attracted their attention at the same moment. "If there isn't our boy!" exclaimed Louise. "Now, doesn't that almost prove him guilty?" "No, it doesn't," objected his champion, Grace. "He's too far away--besides----" "Any one could make letters in the sand," put in Julia. "Think of the hundreds of children who played here all morning. Come on," and she started the race again. But they had scarcely gone a hundred yards when she stopped very suddenly. "Oh, mercy!" she screamed. "I stepped on----" "You bet you did! You stepped on me!" The answer came from a grotesque figure that had just pulled itself out of the sand, and it was none other than the girl, still known only as "Letty." "I didn't mean to," apologized Julia, for, as a matter of fact, she had come full weight on the sand hill under which was buried the girl. "Well, you didn't break any bones," said the girl, with less antagonism than she had formerly displayed. "But I thought the sky fell--guess I was dreaming." She dragged herself up and shook the sand from her unkempt skirt, although the action seemed unnecessary, then grinned at the girls in the most comic way. This was a signal for Grace to howl, and howl she did, to be followed by the others, every one seeming glad that Letty had not "thrown her head at them," as was her usual attitude in meeting the scouts. "And you go swimmin' in there?" she asked, pointing a mocking finger at the ocean. "Surely, don't you?" asked Louise. "Me? Well, I guess not. No more ocean for Kitty," and she turned her back to the waves, meanwhile pulling a long, wry face. "Are you Kitty?" asked Cleo. "Yep, that's me. They call me Kitty Scuttle, but Scuttle ain't my name. Boys give me that 'cause I shoo them off the island." Here was an opening. Louise seized it. "Sit down and tell us about it, Kitty," she said. "You know we really had no idea of bothering your dove the other day. Did his leg fix up all right?" "Guess so, but he ain't my bird," and she did actually flop down in the sand, much to their surprise. "Why don't you like the ocean?" asked Grace. "The ocean is a coward. It fights women and babies," she said, a queer mocking irony marking her words. "Yes," agreed Louise, to placate her, "the ocean is treacherous." "An' cruel," she sort of hissed. "I came from that ocean on a rope once, and I'll never go back on it while I'm alive." "Oh, you were shipwrecked," ventured Cleo, her mind running to the story of the little girl on the frozen mother's breast, told them by Captain Dave. "Yes, Mom never spoke to me again, and I hate that ocean ever since." The girls exchanged glances. Surely she must be the one spoken of by Captain Dave. "But you like still-water?" suggested Grace, in order to relieve the tension. "Love the little Round River, Glimmer Lake, and even the bay," replied Kitty, "but not that monster." It seemed to the scouts she used a queer mixture of phrases. Cleo thought she might be addicted to reading sensational books. "Do you go to school?" queried Julia. "Sure, every one has to go to school, and I don't stay on the island in winter." This last was said in a tone implying every one ought to know that. "You come over here in winter?" It was Louise who dared press that question. They all felt Kitty was due to take another tantrum any minute. She had been almost dangerously good, so far. "Yep," the finality of this spoke for itself. "We're just going over to the life saving station to see Captain Dave," said Cleo. "Glad we didn't hurt you as we ran." "Couldn't," said Kitty. "I don't hurt. Nothin' touches me. And say, I wasn't mad when I pegged the box at you the other day. I was just funnin'." "You didn't hurt me either," returned Louise, quite as good-naturedly. "A little pasteboard box couldn't hurt a scout." "Do you belong to the government?" asked Kitty suddenly. "We're not enlisted, if that's what you mean," answered Cleo, "but we learn to give service if it is needed." "I'd like a suit like yours. Must be fine for fogs. Sometimes I can't get into my rags they're so soggy over there in the woods." Every one silently agreed such clothes as she possessed would surely become "soggy" under the trees. "But only a scout can wear the uniform," said Grace, being careful to use a very kindly tone. "What do you have to do?" inquired Kitty, evincing interest. "When we meet you again we'll tell you about it," replied Louise. "But, say Kitty, we want to take a trip over to the island some day. Shall we see you over there?" "To the island!" she shouted, and all her gentleness was gone instantly. "Don't you dare; the dogs would eat you up!" "Oh, no, we don't mind dogs," Cleo hurried to say. "Besides, you must know them and you could keep them in check." "Oh, no, I couldn't," she was plainly excited now. "Don't you dare come over to Looney Land. The reason I liked you was on account of you fetching Uncle Pete up from the pier. He told me, and I was--thankful." She hung her head and her cropped hair stood out like a brush around her face. Kitty was a pathetic sight, even when excited. "Was he your uncle? Is he all right?" asked Louise. "Nope. He isn't all right. Can't hardly stir ever since. He said he would have died if you girls hadn't helped him, and I want to thank you for that. I'd just die without Uncle Pete." "Well, good-by," said Julia, as they started off this time positively. "Tell Uncle Pete we will come over to see him soon." At this the child ran over to Louise and literally grabbed her, seizing her two hands, and holding them as tightly as her own could grasp them. "Oh, please, please don't come!" she begged, and her eyes had the look of a frightened animal. "You don't know what it would mean to me. And I ask you not to. Won't you promise?" The girls looked at the changed creature in undisguised astonishment. "We don't want to bring trouble on you, Kitty, if that is what you mean," said Julia. "But we have promised ourselves a trip to that queer island. Of course, if it would hurt you for us to go----" "Oh, it would, that's it. It would hurt me more than you could guess. So tell me you won't come over!" "All right, we'll see," said Cleo, and they hurried off to the bathing house to dress, as the time for visiting Captain Dave had been consumed in talking to Kitty. "Well, what do you think of that?" almost gasped Cleo when they joined the other girls who had been impatiently waiting for the report from the life saving station. "Whatever is wrong about Luna Land?" added Louise. "Now see where we are at." "Can't we go?" pouted Grace. "I don't see why not," put in Julia. "Surely, we couldn't make any trouble, just by going over there. I think that girl is--woozy." "Well, I think she's pretty sharp," said Cleo, "and until we can find out from some one what is wrong over there, I'll vote to defer the trip. Suppose we really should bring trouble on that poor cropped head!" "That's so," agreed Grace, though it was plain the change in plans brought disappointment to the entire group. "Let's hurry. We must have talked half an hour. And I promised not to be one minute late for lunch." "We have such a time with meals--never can get folks together," said Cleo, hastily jumping in to her blouse and skirt. "All the same," insisted Margaret, "we must go to the life saving station right after lunch." "And how about our tennis game? We promised Mary, you know, to go over for a couple of sets this afternoon." "We never seem to get to tennis," deplored Louise. "But let's all meet at Borden's at two o'clock, and then we can decide what to do." "There's Leonore looking for me," called out Grace. "And there's Jerry looking for me," added Cleo. "Come on girls, pile in, plenty of room," called Gerald; and those who did not run to his car flocked to the one driven by Leonore, so that the belated scouts made good time, then at least, in getting to their respective cottages. CHAPTER XIII A BLANKET OF FOG THE genuine good times of summer, such as seem to sprout up daily and scatter enough seeds to insure an equal good time on the morrow, had given the scouts such a round of gayety, that a full week dashed by before they could again settle down to work on the mystery of Luna Land. Girls coming down to the beach from the city, others leaving for the mountains, a round of cottage entertaining, besides events at the casino, swimming contests, hotel entertainments--all these and many other features, served to keep the girls delightfully busy at the gay little summer resort, Sea Crest. But in spite of such attraction a rainy spell will set in, and set in it did, good and plenty, along about the middle of July. Then it was that the resources of cottage and hotel were taxed to keep the visitors contented. Mary, at the Colonade, had been a veritable benefactress, for there something was always going on; but Miss Constance Hastings found she could not stand the damp chill of continued rain and heavy fog, so quite unexpectedly she "pulled up stakes," and as Mary would not think of letting her go on to Tuxedo alone, there was suddenly one True Tred less at Sea Crest. "What would we do without the life saving station and Captain Dave?" Grace asked, trudging along through the dense fog, toward those quarters. "Come along Weasie, I wouldn't wonder but Helen and Julia will come in from the other way. Do you suppose the sun will ever shine again?" "Bound to," replied Louise, "but this awful fog!" "My conscience is mildewed and my temper is blue molded," declared Grace. "Just look at what used to be the ocean." "Come on over to the pier," suggested Louise. "I love to watch the breakers tear up against the piles." The boardwalk was all but deserted, not more than the heroic health seekers who walk in all kinds of weather, having courage enough to promenade. Under the shelter of the pavilion the girls stopped to see if any one they knew might be about, when a figure under an umbrella, far over in a corner protected from the blanket of fog, caught their attention. "The boy!" said Grace. "Let's go over and speak to him." "He might get stage fright and again jump overboard," laughingly returned Louise. "Any port in a storm," quoted Grace. "If I don't talk to some one I'll just have to ring myself up on the telephone. I'm dark blue." "Nice compliment to your chum," remarked Louise, smiling good-naturedly. "You know I didn't mean it that way, Weasie. But honestly, why is everything so horrid?" "Guess because we are used to so much excitement we don't know how to slow down. At least that's what mother is always preaching." "See, he looks! He sees!" gasped Grace, her voice not so blue or drab in tone as might have been expected. The boy had lowered his umbrella, and touched his cap to the girls. He even smiled. "Is it possible? At last!" Grace continued to elocute. "Now just watch me bring him to my feet." She seized the arm of Louise and led her to the corner where the boy, as ever, was trying to devour his book. At their approach he quickly closed the covers, jammed papers in his pockets, and then waited to speak to the girls who had dragged him out of Round River a month before. "Hello," he greeted them, and both were glad he was boyish enough to be frank, and not stiff. "Wonderful day," Grace chirped in with banality. "If you don't care what you say," he replied brightly. "But we do, so we'll tell the truth. It's an awful day," declared Louise. "Don't try to sit here," the boy said. He had risen, of course. "The benches are wet enough to float me as the river did. Come over to the other end. The wind doesn't drive the fog in there." Louise and Grace followed him, glad of the prospect of a little chat to break the storm's monotony. "I've been wanting to thank you," began the boy. "My name is Bentley Arnold." "And this Louise Hart and I am Grace Philow," cut in Grace politely. The boy did not bow or scrape foolishly, but accepted the introduction as any boy should. In the West corner of the pavilion they found seats, and quickly exhausting the weather topic, drifted to more interesting subjects. "Did I hear that you live on the island?" asked Grace directly. "Not exactly," replied Bentley, "but I am staying there just at present." Not another word! That lead was lost! "You are awfully fond of reading, aren't you?" Louise asked next. "Oh, yes, very. Aren't you?" And the book question was thus threatened to go the way of Grace's query. "Yes, indeed," Louise hurried. "What sort of books do you like best?" "Boys' books, and I suppose you like girls' books best," he replied. Grace and Louise exchanged glances. Each was, no doubt, thinking they might next ask what shade of paper he liked to write on best. The reply would likely be quite as non-committal. "How can we get over to the island?" Grace dared then. "We are just dying to explore that little Luna Land. It seems so romantic." "I wouldn't advise you to visit there just now," he replied. "Nothing to see but woods, and rocks." "Yet every one who goes over there seems so--so selfish about the woods and rocks, they keep telling us to stay away." Louise said this pleasantly enough, but she did _say_ it, nevertheless. "Oh, it isn't that," he replied, his tone completely wiping out the possibility of any one being selfish about the island. "What is it then?" asked Grace bravely. "Well," he faltered, "you see some of the people over there just think they own the place, and they're queer about strangers." "Does Kitty feel that way?" pressed Louise. "Kitty?" he repeated. "Do you know her?" "Yes, a little. But she never would tell us a thing about Luna Land, except to keep away from it." Grace contributed this effort. "She's queer but not really dishonest," he said valiantly. "I'm getting to understand her better." "So are we," and Louise could not suppress a real laugh at the memory of Kitty's various stages of friendship, or at least of her acquaintance. Louise tried another tack. "Do you get books from the library?" "Oh, no, I don't have time for library books," replied Bentley. "Wish I had." "I suppose you know a lot of boys here--are you a scout? We are Girl Scouts you know," volunteered Grace. "No, to all three questions," he answered. But as usual he did not amplify his brief statement. "There are Julia and Helen," announced Louise gayly. But the advance of the two other girls seemed a signal for Bentley to leave, and this he did, sliding into the ice-cream parlor before Julia and Helen reached their chums. "Oh, you missed it," called Louise. "We have met him," followed Grace. "Did he invite you over?" asked Julia. "Can he really talk?" inquired Helen. "Just the same he is a nice boy," Grace declared. "We always knew that," Julia told her. "But, no joking, what did he say?" Helen asked seriously. "Let me see! What did he say?" Grace was now asking Louise. "Oh, don't tease. You know what we want to know," pleaded Julia. "We don't know what _you_ want to know, neither do we know what _we_ want to know, for we couldn't find out," replied Louise promptly. "Do you mean to say he didn't tell you a thing?" and Helen showed disappointment. "We wouldn't go so far as that, but he did not tell us anything interesting, if that is what you mean," said Grace. "But do come and sit down, we don't dare follow him inside the store." "He's gone. I saw him steering his umbrella due north a moment ago," said Louise. "But, girls, really he is the nicest chap." Then followed a complete review, almost word for word of the conversation held with Bentley Arnold. Yet even this brought the quartette no evident satisfaction. "If this fog lets up I'm going over there, if I have to pay twenty-five dollars for a sail in the South Park Air Ship. I know it came down with a bad bump the other day, but I'd risk it for a sail to Luna Land," declared Grace. "Let's go over to Captain Dave's now," said Helen. "He is the most entertaining gentleman I know for this sort of weather." "We found Bentley all right," qualified Louise. "And think of the name: Bentley Arnold!" "Did he say anything about his income tax?" asked Helen, but for an answer the jaunt up the fog-laden boardwalk was undertaken, and only those who have ever indulged in real mid-summer fogs, could really appreciate description, and such do not need it--they know! Captain Dave was glad to see the girls. He lighted the big oil lamp and even offered to burn papers in the stove to "kill the chill," but the girls insisted they would be perfectly comfortable without the heat. "And Captain Dave, do you know about Kitty?" Grace plunged quickly as politeness would permit. "Know Kitty? Well, I should, seein' as how I unclasped her from her dead mother's arms," replied the seaman, almost reverently. "Then, Captain," this very gently from Louise, "why don't you do something for the child? She runs wild as an Indian." "Do something for her," and he dumped out a pipe full of good tobacco. "Why, what could I do?" "Does any one take care of her? Has she any friends?" inquired Helen kindly. "Too many. That's just the trouble," and he filled his pipe with new tobacco. "You know that nobody's business is everybody's business, and that's what's the matter with poor little Kitty." The girls did not quite understand the description, but the captain seemed troubled, so they hesitated about pressing more pointed questions. "She is not half as wild as she seems," said Julia after a time. "We had quite a jolly little chat with her one day." "You did now? That's fine!" he answered heartily. "I wish you could see her once in a while. She needs the right sort of friends. What's a girl to do when every other girl in the village shuns her?" "We would all be very glad to talk to her and make real friends with her," insisted Helen. "I'm sure you would, for you're girls brought up to be kind and friendly," said Captain Dave. "I've heard how you befriended old Peter." "Oh, that wasn't anything," Julia interrupted. "We only took him in from the storm." "Queer thing none of our firemen happened to see him! And old Pete out there fishin'! Why, he was so stunned, Kitty told me next day he couldn't move," said Captain Dave. "We thought we would have lots wilder experiences down here than just driving nice old men home, Captain," complained Grace. "Aren't you ever going to let us try your breeches buoy?" "Try it? What would you do with a breeches buoy?" he asked. "Have a lovely ride in it, wouldn't we?" said Grace. "I hope not," replied the captain seriously. "That's not a thing to play with." "And Kitty is the little girl you told us about? She whom you took from the wreck of the Alameda?" asked Louise. "Yes, she is Kitty Schulkill, but they've nicknamed her Kitty Scuttle, 'count of the way she scuttles about so. But I thought when she was taken over to the Point she might quiet down some, but Kitty is Kitty just the same," he concluded rather gloomily. "Has she any relatives?" inquired Julia. "Claims to be, one woman there, a high falootin dame, claims to be her guardeen," he said, using the quaint old way of pronouncing the last word. "But I'm not sure. Don't know as I just like her any too--well." And again the pipe suffered from suppressed emotion. They were making some progress--all the girls felt keenly interested, and even a little bit excited. "Does this woman live with her at the Point?" ventured Grace. "Oh, to be sure--she runs the Point, from all I hear," he replied. "But as I told you first thing, that Point is al'lus a pesky place and a good place to veer from." Confronted again with this thread-bare opposition to a visit at the Point, the girls looked discouraged. "But you would like us to be friendly with Kitty. How can we become acquainted with her if we are not to--go--to her home?" Grace blurted out finally. The Captain shook his head. "I'll tell you," he began. "This fancy dressed woman, from what I hear from Kitty, is a queer case, and for a short time it seems best to humor her. Let her try it, I says when Kitty told me--but I wouldn't say positive I like the scheme." "Is that why you don't want us to go over to the island?" asked Louise. Her voice was gentle and she looked at the old sea captain with an apology in her eyes. "Now, see here, little girls," he answered; "you have almost thrown old Dave off his course. I don't know enough about the Point to speak of it. I'm tied here, like the 'Boy on the Burnin' Deck,' and when I do leave quarters it is al'lus on government business. So don't take too seriously what I say, except this--keep off Luna Land, and don't pester little Kitty." And with that admonition they felt obliged to feign content. CHAPTER XIV ABOARD THE BLOWELL "NOW we know what the fog was for," exclaimed Cleo. "To show us how a good clear day can look, that's why a fog is a fog," she stated emphatically. The day was perfect, and perhaps more conspicuously so by contrast with the long spell of damp just lifted. Activities that had been suppressed were now springing into life, like emotional mushrooms, and the True Treds were markedly busy, trying to fit all the good times into an over-crowded program. Cleo and Grace were making a week's schedule. This had been altered so often, Grace proposed following Margaret's plan of "fun-by-the-day." "No matter how carefully we arrange it," she protested to Cleo on the porch of the Log Cabin, "some of the girls insist on crowding in other things. Now, to-day we were to go canoeing, and here comes Julia, telephoning to every one of us to go sailing in a sail boat." "I think that's lovely of Julia," said Cleo, "because Grazia dear, we can go canoeing any day, but only sailing when some one asks us. Who did?" "Julia's cousins from Breakentake sailed down the bay early this morning--it must have been a very early start. They are going to stay over, and Julia says if the wind is right, we may all go out for the afternoon. Of course, it's a lovely prospect, but what's the use of making plans? Why not just grab them?" Grace had ridden over on her bicycle, and the exercise furnished her a wonderful beautifier--had she real need of the process. Eyes shining, cheeks glowing, with almost dewy softness of color, even Cleo, ordinarily indifferent to temperamental changes, commented on her chum's appearance. "I do believe, Grace," she remarked, "the dampness is good for the complexion. You're as downy as a peach." "Dampness is a beautifier. Leonore says so. That's what makes Newport so popular. Ever see the hydrangeas grow there? But Cleo dear, you haven't been forgotten in the fog. You are rather peachy yourself." "Nay, nay, false friend. Tempt me not--I shall not desert the ranks for movies," and Cleo struck one of her popular attitudes. "But about the sailing ship-ahoy! I'm ready. What time do we embark?" "Julia will call us all up after lunch when she gets a line on the wind. I believe it has to be in 'on high' to get us up the bay. All right," and Grace mounted her wheel. "We will all be ready, and hereafter little Captain, count me out on the program cards. They do better when left to the inspirational, as our own Captain Clark would say." To be able to learn, to be elastic to the point of flexibility, is surely the secret of all progress, and these girls of True Tred had little need of such a lesson. The Blowell stood straining at its cable at Round River dock when the scouts, numbering a troop, scampered aboard. Julia's cousins, Mae and Eugenia Westbrook, prided themselves on their nautical skill, and nothing could possibly be more promising for a day's sport than a sail on the Blowell. "Scouts! Scouts! Rah, rah, rah!" "True-Treds! True-Treds--Sis-boom ma!" They shouted the call till every last one had climbed into the "pit" of the graceful sailing vessel, and like a sturdy strong crew they appeared; the scouts in their reliable khaki, and the captain and mate in their shining white duck, with the regulation yachting cap, jauntily but securely set on their capable heads. From the tips of the mast "Old Glory" floated to the stiff breeze, the ceremony of raising the colors having been complied with according to Girl Scout formality. Cleo, as acting captain, pulled the slender rope, while the girls stood at attention and in salute. "You may float the boat flag now," said Captain Mae. "Be sure you adjust it right side up." Grace leaned over the stern to affix the little marine emblem in its place, and soon the sail swung out on its halyard, and when the mate, Eugenia, cut loose from shore, the Blowell lost no time in demonstrating the power of its name. "Oh, how delightful," gasped Margaret. "And we thought canoeing was fun." "It's just glorious," exhaled Julia. "Now, aren't you glad I changed our plans?" "Tickled to pieces," declared Cleo. "I think this is the only worthwhile sort of airship because it combines the beauty of air and water." They were seated in the trunk cabin watching with deep interest Captain Mae as she set the sail, letting it out gradually as it took the wind, but being careful not to throw too much canvass in the face of the stiff breeze that seemed to sweep from the deep azure sky, as if glad of its own release after the long spell of hateful weather. Mae was at the tiller guiding the steering gear to fix the vessel in its course, on the smooth, blue waters. For some time the handling of the craft occupied the visitors' entire attention, but presently they undertook to move around. "This is where the Blowell beats your Indian Queen canoe, Louise," said Cleo. "You can move here without upsetting." "But we _could_ really upset in this boat," Louise reminded them. "Although, I am not fearing any such catastrophe." "Isn't it invigorating," Margaret added to the continuous praise song. "I like the life of this motion, yet it hasn't the least spilly effect." Thus they enthused until shore points of interest broke in on the marine eulogy. "Just see us leave Weasle Point behind," remarked Cleo, with a rather prolonged look at the green speck as it drifted away. "Wonder if Kitty is over there?" said Grace. "And Bentley," added Julia, not to deprive her chums of their usual joke that she never forgot Bentley. "And my Uncle Pete," insisted Grace. "Do you know, girls, Captain Dave says he was seriously stunned by that storm?" "Poor old man! And to think we can't even bring him a thermos of chicken broth," deplored Louise. The sail boat was gliding over the water, proudly as the clouds themselves drifted overhead. The Westbrook girls were allowing their visitors full scope of the graceful craft, but objected definitely to Grace taking a ride in the little dory that raced behind. Grace thought such a feat would be a genuine lark, but Captain Mae reminded her that the Sandy Hook Bay was not the placid little Glimmer Lake she had been accustomed to sporting upon. Down in the cabin a real tea was served at four o'clock, and if automobiling is conducive to real appetites, sailing leads to the port of hunger-pangs; and as an alleviative Orange Pekoe, cheese, cookies, lettuce sandwiches, with peanut butter and other conserves, can be heartily recommended, according to the Log of the Blowell, as inscribed that day by the True Treds. "All hands on the deck," ordered Cleo, in mock severity, when cracker tins and tea cups were being worked to the point of refined cruelty. "Aye, aye, sir," replied Grace, being first to reach deck. "Shall we sing 'Starboard watch ahoy!' or 'Little Jack'?" Margaret asked. "No, let's sing 'Sailing!'" suggested Julia. "Who knows any of the words?" inquired Louise. "The title sounds appropriate, but it would take more words to fill out a tune!" "Starboard watch ahoy! Starboard watch ahoy! And who can feel-e-e-eel, while on the blue the vessel ke-e-ell." This was Cleo's contribution done in all sharps, and as Louise warned them, the title wouldn't do for a girl-sized song. "No, that's too old," objected Helen. "It's out of print. Try 'Sailing.'" "Sailing, sailing over the stormy sea," "The second line is just the same and ought to end in B" "Full many a stormy wind shall blow o-o-oh when" "Jack comes home--again!" Thus ended Helen, and as a song "Sailing" was considered a first-rate joke. "Now," said Margaret, in a plain everyday speaking voice, "I'm not going to spoil my 'Little Jack,' with any such parody as that. I'm going to recite him." "Hear! Hear!" ordered Captain Mae. "I'm not sure I can recall all of it, but it's a pretty story--so--" "Yes, Margy, a story is better than a song, tell it," begged Louise, settling down deeper in the leather cushions. "But I may have to hum it, to get in rhyme," soliloquized the narrator. "Yes, that's better still," cut in Cleo. "Give us the hum." "Do be quiet, girls, or we will get neither song nor hum nor story," said Helen. "Go ahead, Margaret. Tell it your own way, as they say in court trials." Again Margaret was directed to take up her Little Jack. "It begins by calling the mates to come around-around-around----" "The hearth," suggested Julia. "Hearth on the sea!" cried Margaret in scorn. "I'll fine the next girl who interrupts," announced Captain Mae. "Go on, Maggie." "I'll skip the introduction, I have to," Margaret admitted, struggling with a laugh, "but I know these lines: "It was on the Spanish Main---- "And in a night of rain--then I have to skip again, but you will understand the story," braved Margaret. "The sailors saw something, I just have to insert that clause," she contributed, "then it goes: * * * * * "So far from any coast, we thought it was a ghost, And lowers a boat to see what it might be, Where on its mother's breast a little one did rest, The mother dead--the babe alive and well!" * * * * * "Oh, just like Kitty's story," interrupted Cleo in spite of orders. "Certainly, that's the reason I'm suffering so to tell it," admitted Margaret. "Does the song say what they did with the little one?" asked Julia, always intensely sympathetic. "Yes, listen," again ordered Margaret. "The story tells: "Now we're a rough old set, some are fathers, don't forget," "But--but I can't think of that line, I should have told you 'Our skipper seized the boy, and kisses him with joy----'" This was almost the end for Margaret, if not the end of the song, for they all seized the girl and smothered her with kisses. "But it was a lovely story, Margy, if bald in spots," commented Cleo. "What's the chorus?" Again Margaret started, this time in tune: * * * * * "Singing eylie--heevie ho! Eylie heevie ho! Send the wheel around say we! While gayly blows the breeze, That takes us o'er the seas! Singing eylie, heevie, eylie heevie ho!" * * * * * "Hurrah! Hurray! Hurroo!" called Louise. "That's all right for a sea story, Margaret, and we'll have to make a line of it in our Log. But poor little Kitty didn't fare so well. See it was a boy, 'they kissed him with joy,'" she explained. "Being a girl poor Kitty was just dumped." "Oh, yes, one more line," persisted Margaret: "Then we names him Little Jack, and kissing he don't lack!" Needless to say what happened to Margaret at that! Then, to give the Westbrook girls the full benefit of their information, the story of Kitty was told in detail, and even these young ladies confessed to a keen interest in the mystery of Luna Land. "We must make a landing, and spend an hour in the woods before returning," suggested Eugenia as they skirted the shore. "There's a beautiful rocky point, Mae. We can easily sail in the cove, and let the girls scamper around there." And this was the plan immediately decided upon. CHAPTER XV STRANDED TIME flew as the girls scampered over rocks, slid down sandy slopes, and otherwise "explored" the picturesque retreat. No accident marred the afternoon, beyond the unexpected slide of Cleo, who, venturing too near the edge, came down to the water's brink by way of a sliding, sandy trail. Everybody had been in wading, choosing a shallow pool that trickled in from the bay and hid behind a wall of sand, now plainly marked, as the tide was receding. "Come, girls, we must be moving," warned Mae, "a sail boat depends on wind and tide for safe navigation." Reluctantly they left the sand, for this strip of rocky woods was attractive to the point of positive fascination. With a friendly breeze they were soon under full sail again, and the voyage home promised too prompt an ending to their day's sport. They would have prolonged it. "Couldn't we sail in and out that group of islands?" asked Grace, reluctant to reach port too early. "We might," agreed Mae, "if we were sure to be safe from sand bars." "Water's splendidly deep," her sister at the tiller assured her. "We may as well let the girls see all the sights." Accordingly, the Blowell was directed toward the islands, that seemed like mere splashes of green, spilled on the blue water. In and out they went in apparent safety, every one enjoying the close land sailing, and the glimpses of varied woodlands these little islands exhibited. "Tide's going out fast," called Mae, as the sail swung north. Eugenia did not reply. She thought she felt something scrape. A grinding sound assured her, she _had_ heard scraping--and she knew the feel of sand. They stopped like a canoe running out of the waves! "Sand bar!" shouted Mae, but none of the girls knew just what that meant. Opening the sail, clear of every reef, Mae tried to get off the bar, and Eugenia urged the tiller to try one spot, then another; but the Blowell stood still, and defied the breeze or water to move her. "Can't we go?" asked Cleo, just beginning to realize their predicament. "Not unless we are lifted," replied Mae gloomily. "Do you mean to tell us we are stuck?" asked Louise. "That's the simplest way of putting it," replied Eugenia. "Then," said Grace, still imbued with the spirit of fun. "Where do we go from here?" "That's a delicate question," replied Helen, for both Mae and Eugenia were too busy to pay heed to nonsense. For some time they tried all tactics known to navigators caught in a similar predicament, then finally settled down to make the best of a bad bargain. "Why can't we go in to shore on the little boat?" asked Grace, still anxious to try the dory. "What good would that do us?" asked Mae. "Some one may be camped there," Grace added further. "Even so, a camper couldn't move the Blowell more than we can," said Eugenia. "Our only hope is a tow," reflected Mae, "and I don't see a launch, and no launch could ever see us in this pocket." "I'm so sorry I suggested the islands," said Grace contritely. "Of course, I'm a very green sailor." "Not your fault in the least," Eugenia assured. "We should have known better." "And when may the tide come in?" asked Julia innocently. "Some time A. M.," said Mae, hiding her concern with a brave show of indifference. "Do you mean to say we must stay out here all night?" gasped Helen. "I hate to say it, but it may be true," said Mae slowly. "Still, a launch may loom up. Any provisions left?" At this the remains of their lunch were dragged out from the cabin, and as they viewed the most glorious sunset they had ever witnessed, they munched crumbs, and tried to keep up their spirits, which were plainly going down with the ball of red gold. It was a gloomy prospect. No way of sending a message home, no one to give them a tow, and as Cleo put it just "nobody nor nawthin'." It was fast coming nightfall! Brave as they were the scouts worried more about the home folks than they did at their own predicament. "If I could only let mama know!" sighed Julia with a melancholy look at the only things moving, and they were merely sunset clouds. "Never give up," counselled Mae. "We are in no danger, at least that is something." "What's that song about the 'dove on the mast'?" asked Cleo moodily. "Something about he did mourn, and mourn and mourn." "Don't you dare perpetrate that," said Mae. "You are thinking of the famous old sob song, 'Oh, Fair Dove, oh, Fond Dove'. But please forget it. It does not fit in the picture." "Just the same," insisted Grace, "I think we ought to go in to that island. See how dark it is getting, and there might be some help there." With an amount of coaxing Grace and Cleo, with Eugenia and Helen, were finally allowed to row into shore, and as the water was perceptibly shallow, it was decided by Mae, as captain, that the little trip could be made in perfect safety. "I must stay with the Blowell," she said, "as I might feel an under current strong enough to move us. Don't delay too long." They were glad to leave the sail boat, if only temporarily. It had become monotonous, if not actually gloomy to sit there, longing to move. A short pull brought the dory on to land, and briskly the girls sprang ashore. Along the edge just a stretch of sand, untraveled, greeted them. "No footprints here," Grace remarked. "But it's nice and smooth; a lovely little island." "Yes, if we were merely looking for nature's beauties," replied Eugenia. "But just now we would rather run across a stuttering telephone." "There is a wireless station somewhere around here," said Cleo. "I remember reading about it being outside of Sandy Hook." "Do you suppose we are outside of anything?" asked Helen. "I feel we are tied with a drawstring in nature's hip pocket." "Here's a footprint," called Cleo. "Just look; here's a sign!" All ran toward her and found tacked on a tree a crudely marked cardboard. On this they managed to decipher the words, "Peter Pan" and "Take me to Mama." "Perhaps some picnic children left that here," decided Eugenia. "No other sign of mortal habitation about." "Yes, here is a child's shovel and pail, and a lot of child's play tools," said Helen. "Relics of the same outing party," commented Louise. "Just see if you can't dig up something more humanly tangible, Helen." Dusk made the woods almost dark, and lest they should stray too far inland Mae was to give signals on her police whistle. Three short and two long would mean "hurry back." Occasionally they stopped to listen for the call. "Some child has been digging here very recently," insisted Cleo. "This sand and clay are damp yet." "The picnic might have been to-day," Louise replied. "You're not very encouraging Weasie. Just see how deep this hole is, and how it is being dug--like--a tunnel." Every one followed Cleo's plea for an investigation, and at each turn they seemed to come upon more toys and tools, such as little boys play with. "And here's another sign," called Helen. "On yellow paper, too." This brought the scouts to close attention. The sign was evidently an attempt at a message, and carried the same words "Peter Pan" and "Bring me to Mamma," but with it was a pathetically written word "Please," through the letters of which were crudely drawn, by surely a childish hand, the quaintest little flowers. "Just see!" said Cleo. "No child on a picnic would take time to draw flowers in a sign." She turned over the card and found on the reverse side the words that might mean "I--dig--out----" Eugenia who was familiar with kindergarten work, readily recognized this as an attempt made by some child who had been taught to make floral words to indicate loving messages. She was turning the paper over carefully when the signal for "Hurry Back" was sounded shrilly on the police whistle. "Hurry, hurry, hurry!" called Eugenia, and scampering through the woods, they jumped into their little boat and started off, Cleo still carrying the two Peter Pan messages. Reaching the clearance they could see a launch pulled up beside the Blowell. "Oh, joy!" fairly screamed Helen. "A launch!" It did not take long to row back to the sand bar, where Mae had already been towed off, out into the welcome deep water. "Oh, how splendid! Just in time!" they shouted, and Eugenia had difficulty in requiring that they sit still and not spill overboard. Reaching the sailboat, never was found a happier face than Mae's. "Oh, girls, I told you not to give up," she greeted them. "Just see our rescuer, Mr. Neal Nelson from the Colonade." "Oh, my little choker's brother!" exclaimed Julia, too delighted to think of the usual formalities. "And as I live, if it isn't--Bobby's life saver!" declared the young man. "Well, turn about is surely fair play, and I'm glad I got my innings in." "However did you find us?" asked Julia when they were making sure the Blowell could "sail under her own steam" as Neal put it. "I didn't--I just happened by. Out trying my new motor boat----" "She's a beauty," commented Mae, feeling foolish as she uttered the words, for any old tug boat would have been a beauty under the circumstances. How differently everything looked now! It was almost worth while being in peril to experience the joy of rescue. "How did you like it over there?" called Neal, who was now keeping close enough alongside the Blowell to permit of conversation. "Nice little island," answered Cleo. "I guess picnickers like it there." "I fancy not," replied the young man. "Folks are not invited over there, I understand." "Why?" questioned Eugenia, who was interested in the kindergarten effort discovered on the island. "Nobody knows and nobody cares," he replied, using the words of the latest popular song. "We're going back there some day," declared Grace. "Found signs and things never left there by the Indians." "Indians live there yet, I should think," replied Neal, turning on some more gas to keep up with the pace the Blowell was making. "What's the name of that island, do you know?" called Grace. "Surely," he replied, with a laugh in his boyish voice. "That's the famous Luna Land!" CHAPTER XVI THE BAREFOOT GIRLS "LOOK! Look!" shrieked Grace. "That's Luna Land!" "Oh, isn't that too stupid!" added Cleo, almost in dismay. "To think we were wandering around there and didn't know it." "But how were we fooled?" asked Julia, also showing signs of keen disappointment. "Don't you see we went in on the other side," explained Helen. "That's the pocket and just as I thought we were in the old hip pocket. Isn't that too mean!" Eugenia and Mae were now made aware of the girls' eager expectations for a trip to that island, and when every one had finally been convinced that the trip had really been made without the least suspicion of its consummation, there seemed nothing to do but demand a good laugh from the odd occurrence. All stood up to watch the very last speck of green, as Luna Land disappeared, and only the added interest and anxiety, consequent upon their delay, and the need to hasten back to the waiting home folks, tended to break the spell. "To have actually been on that island!" repeated Grace, trying to realize it. "And to have gathered signs there," put in Cleo. "Glad I took them along, although I did so unconsciously." "We must have a troop meeting to-morrow," said Margaret. "This alters everything." "I think it simply turns on the gasoline," remarked Grace. "Now, we know something about Looney Land." Neal was leading in his new launch, and the Blowell followed as proudly as if nothing had occurred to spoil her trip. It was almost dark, but not quite, as the long summer evening stayed and over-stayed, to the benefit of the belated sailors. "There's Leonore and Ben," sang out Grace, as they caught sight of the blue car waiting at the landing. "Also Gerald and--yes, it's Isabel," called Helen, for from her family car a girl in Isabel's green sweater was waving merrily to the incoming craft. Explanations with details of delays on a sailboat seemed entirely superfluous, and with creditable good sense the stranded party was welcomed home, without the worry of sighs or sobs. "But why did you go to the city to-day of all days?" Cleo demanded of Isabel. "We have had the event of the season, and you should have been among those present." "The dentist," explained Isabel, making room for her chums in the car. "Nothing on earth but a tyrannical dentist could drag me away from Sea Crest in mid season." "Well, I thought it must have been something urgent," Cleo conceded. "But, Izzy love! We have been to Luna Land!" "You didn't tell us!" charged Elizabeth. She had been to the city with Isabel. "We didn't know," returned Cleo. "It was an accident--a miraculous accident." Followed such snatchy bits of explanation as might be given on the short ride home. Isabel and Elizabeth seemed quite as much absorbed in the fact that their friend Neal had a new motor boat as did they in the revelation concerning Luna Land. The evening attraction of moonlight bathing served to divert, temporarily, the girls' keen interest in holding a True Tred meeting immediately. Every one wanted to go straight back to the island--no dogs had devoured them, no lunatics were discovered up trees, no ghosts had been noticed ambling about the grove, and why had they even hesitated to explore there? Each demanded an answer from each, but none replied. Moonlight, like all the other released atmospheric beauties, came "double barreled," and crowds flocked to the beach for the novelty of evening bathing. "And of course, we're too young," grumbled Isabel. "I just wonder if the water is the same day as night. Come on, let's wade." This was the signal for wading preparations. In a sheltered corner under the board walk, the girls divested themselves of their shoes and stockings, scampered back to the edge and encountered knee deep waves or wavelets. "Wading is really decorous in the dark," boomed Elizabeth. "It's lots more fun than even bathing in daylight." "But not as good as swimming," replied Louise, who had just allowed her pretty pink scarf-sash to come in contact with the ruinous salt water. At the sound of the nine-thirty gong--it was the village fire alarm that always sounded the hour--the scouts as well as the other merrymakers hurried to dress. True, they had but to don stockings and pumps, but the beach crowds scattered so quickly, it was necessary to hurry, or run the risk of being alone with the crabs. "Where did you put the things?" Cleo called to Grace. "I don't see them here." "Left them exactly against the third post from the steps, coming toward the shoe black stand," Grace indicated. "That would be all right on an income tax blank," sang out Cleo, after a fruitless search, "but it does not betray the boots. They're not here." "Oh lands, hurry!" begged Elizabeth. "We shall be all alone with Davy Jones or Mr. McGinty or whoever it is who janities the ocean by night. Let's all look." No need for this proposal for all were looking; they needed pumps and stockings, but none could be found. "Are you sure you left them here?" asked Louise again. "Positive," replied Grace. "And I saw them when I went for my bag," said Elizabeth. "I remember now, I left the pocket flash light burning--forgot to turn it off." "You left a light in the sand by our things!" exclaimed Cleo. "Brilliant Betty! Well, why wouldn't the small boys walk off with them, either for fun or profit." "I see nothing to do but play hop scotch home," said Helen dolefully. "And they were my best patent leathers." "My silk stockings broke the family bank," chimed in Louise. "Mother had just declared they would be the very last pair." "Let's go to the pier and beg matches," suggested Isabel. "I don't fancy skipping all the way to Third Avenue 'as is,' whatever way that may be, but I believe it applies to any sort of goods not up to the best mark, and with bare feet I don't feel quite par excellence." "Still you do the Greek dances beautifully," consoled Louise. "Let us take this philosophically. We have lost our booties and we must go home. Now let's----" and she raced off with all the barefoot scouts after her. Not that they minded that in the least, but the loss of silk stockings and pumps was not a good joke, even to the jolly True Treds. Danger of broken glass and alighting on sharp pebbles varied the hopping, skipping and jumping, until the last scout dusted her toes and tried to explain the bare-foot stunt to surprised relatives. Early next morning, that portion of the beach where the clothing had been lost was visited, first by one, and then another, until without arranging to do so, the whole party had again assembled. "What shall we do about it?" asked Grace. "No use allowing any one to get away with five pairs of pumps and stockings." "Besides a flash light and my bag," inserted Elizabeth. "I guess we will have to put a sign on the post office," suggested Cleo. This was met with a howl of ridicule. "Can you imagine everybody devouring a neat little sign that stated five pairs of stockings----?" Grace asked. "Oh, don't," begged Helen. "Let's do without them and wear sneaks. If we all set in to wearing them folks will think they are the very latest thing in footgear," she said pompously. "Look what I dug up," Cleo exclaimed, displaying a rather disfigured pair of tennis shoes. "Jerry decorated them last summer, when he was trying out some new water colors. See that emblem there?" pointing to something like a wish-bone design. "Well, that's his frat emblem," she told her companions. "Then it's decided we let the shoes go, and all our poor luck with them," said Isabel. "But I do feel rather mournful about my pretty buckles." "Let's hie to the bungalow, and talk over our delayed plans to further invade Luna Land," called out Louise, poised on a treacherous sand heap. "I'm just dying for another try at that mystery." In the conclave it was decided to ask Neal for a ride in his lovely new motor boat. "That will be the safest way to go," said Louise, "as it would afford the quickest chance of getting away." "Nothing to be afraid of," Cleo said disdainfully. "How do we know?" argued Isabel. "Just because no bears jumped out at us is not proof there were none up the trees." "Bears don't climb the trees," retorted Elizabeth. "Well, _we_ might have to and it's just the same," insisted Isabel. "Do you know," said Cleo. "I wouldn't be surprised if some little child over there is playing Peter Pan!" "That's nothing. Every child plays Peter Pan," cut in Margaret. "Didn't you tell us Mary Dunbar went up a tree at Bellaire?" "Yes, but I mean a child who is living out the character, if that explains it more clearly," said Cleo. "Nothing startling about that either," commented Helen, who admitted she was fairly "sizzling" for a mystery. "Maybe Bentley wrote those signs," said Julia. "Bentley!" exclaimed Grace. "That big boy wrote 'Take me to mama'! Julia, Julia, Julia! Are you as far gone as that?" "He could write them for fun, couldn't he?" fired back the much tantalized girl. "Well, he could, of course, but how would he get the fun out of doing a thing like that? No, we have to look either for a freak or a poor neglected child. Now, True Treds, take your choice!" advised Louise. "I choose the freak," decided Cleo. "Freaks are funny." "And I take the chee-i-ld!" trilled Grace, "children need to be cared for, and True Treds should help." "Whatever will Captain Dave think when he hears we have been on the forbidden ground?" asked Louise. "I care more for his opinion than for anything else." "Guess we all do," said Margaret seriously. "We wouldn't like him to think we actually defied him." "But wasn't it the most delicious joke," Grace reminded them. "When I didn't die a sudden death as Neal called out 'Why, that's Luna Land!' I will tell you girls, I am doomed to a ripe old age." "Suppose we go right down now, and tell Captain Dave all about it?" proposed Louise. "I shall feel better when the dark secret is off my conscience." "A wise plan," declared Margaret, "but I don't like these slippers for a walk at this hour, too near bathing time. Anybody going in to-day?" "Surely, but there's plenty of time yet," argued Grace. "All in favor of a trip to Captain Dave's--run." Along the grassy edge of Glimmer Lake it was only a short run to the life saving station and, just as they hoped, the genial captain sat outside, in his big, strong chair, smoking the faithful pipe. "You can never guess where we have been, Captain?" Cleo began quickly, as the girls were able to flock about. "Oh, yes I can," he replied to their surprise. "You been over to the island." They were astonished. Who had told him in so short a time? "How did you know?" asked Grace. "Little bird," mumbled the captain. He did seem a trifle serious for him. "Not the carrier pigeon?" asked Louise. "And you don't mind, do you Captain Dave?" "We had no idea of going," Helen hurried to say, before the seaman could answer. "So you got stranded?" he asked, as usual bringing his helpless pipe into play. Then followed an account of the accident that ended in the precipitous visit to Luna Land. "But who told you about it, Captain?" asked Grace once more. "Kitty," he replied simply. "Kitty saw us!" Margaret gasped. The surprise intended for Captain Dave had been diverted, it appeared. "Yes, Kitty was there; but she saw what happened, as she explained it to me, and she knew you wouldn't stay long," explained the old sailor. "But why didn't she speak to us?" pouted Cleo. "Guess she thought it was safer to let you get off quietly as you got on," replied the Captain, and his deep set eyes wandered out over that familiar sea, although his audience wondered what ever he could see there to hold his attention after so many years of watching. "I think she might have trusted us," said Helen, showing something like resentment. "It likely was not that," the captain assured the girls. "She'd trust you, I'm sure, but she might not trust others," he finished mysteriously. They seemed further than ever now from their purpose. The captain was rather reticent, though usually so genial, in fact, for the first time the scouts felt as if their visit might not be entirely welcome. Could he be displeased with them? The language of their glances asked that question plainly. "But we did have the awfulest time," Louise broke the awkward silence. "Captain, it's lovely to sail, and our Blowell was like a sea queen, until we struck that sand bar, then she stuck like--like the Brooklyn Bridge, not a thing could move her. We did break a couple of oars trying to pry ourselves loose, but a sand bar is a mighty power when you hit it wrong side up," finished Louise, proud of her attempt to interest the rather silent captain. "Anything wrong, Captain?" Grace asked, with her usual directness. "You look worried." "Maybe I am a bit," he admitted. "But nothing very serious," and he made his pipe serve to emphasize the fact. "Could we help you?" inquired Helen simply. The old sea man smiled and reached over to pat her shoulders. She was sitting on the steps, and he sat just above in the hickory arm chair. "I've been tryin' to figure out who might help me," he replied finally, "and I've about concluded you little girls would be as safe as anybody. And queer thing, too--" he went on. "You're the first--who ever offered to help old Dave, though many a one _he_ has pulled out of that briny." The girls moved closer to the hickory chair. Not one felt she could break that spell by speaking. "But it will be quite a story," continued the captain, "and it is nigh on to eight bells now. Suppose you come around here this afternoon after your swim--no, best after dinner," he corrected himself. "The men have to eat on the stroke of twelve, then we have drill, and some government messages to explain--make it two-thirty," he said finally, "and we'll see what we can do." CHAPTER XVII A RELIC FROM THE ALAMEDA EAGER for the captain's story every scout was on hand promptly at two-thirty. The captain dusted off the wooden settee, and pulled out all his chairs, for the True Treds were meeting as if in council. "It's about Kitty," he began. "Of course, you have guessed that. But what set me on this course was the way you have made friends with that heedless one. Seems to me you would stick by her in a pinch." "We surely would, Captain," spoke up Grace, and her voice had in it the ring of the familiar "Aye, aye, sir." "Well, you see," went on the captain, "she's so queer, no one makes friends with her. But from the furst I was a'watchin' you 'uns, as they say at Old Point, and I was curious to see if she was going to scare you off, as she had done to all the others." "I guess she tried," Louise could not refrain from interrupting, for the memory of Kitty's throw of the paste board box was still vivid. "Yes, she tried, and she has told me how she plagued you, but accordin' to Kitty you wouldn't quit." "Not exactly quitters," ventured Cleo. From his smile of approval it was plain the captain agreed with every interruption, and they seemed to whet his interest in the story he had undertaken to tell. He continued: "Just noticin' and watchin' I says to myself, there is the very thing Kitty has always needed; girls, real live, jolly girls; and she ain't never had none." He expressed himself more pathetically when he fell into the vernacular. "No sir, she ain't never had none," he repeated. "Then along you come, just for the summer, and she tried every blusterin' trick she could make use of to scare you off, to sort of bamboozle you, but you stick, and so, she's sort of givin' in. Especially since you befriended old Pete. That won her sure." "She told us that she appreciated that," said Cleo. "But it was only fun to drive him to the landing. Of course, he wouldn't hear of us driving around to the Point, from where he could more easily have gone across to the island." "Now then, thinking all those things over, and puttin' two and two together, as you might say, I've sort of concluded to ask you to do something more. And I almost feel I know your answer," pursued the well-trained narrator. "You surely must know it, Captain," Cleo assured him. "I am acting captain of this troop--the True Tred. I am really only troop leader for the summer, but the girls call me captain, and I can speak for every one here, I know, when I say, we will do our utmost to help you, or to fulfill any trust you may offer." At this the True Treds arose, and quite seriously gave their salute. So impressed was old Captain Dave, that he also tilted himself out of his tip chair, and likewise saluted. No one smiled--they were now engaged in serious work as True Treds. "That's fine," he said heartily. "I tell you my boys can't beat that at drillin'. I just wish I could get a girl's team working some day," he complimented. "Wouldn't wonder if you could do as well as some boys. "But back to Kitty," and his pipe was thoroughly emptied on the little tin plate at his elbow. "You see, the night her poor little mother was swung in from the Alameda with that youngster in her arms, we were too busy to do much but try to keep the freezin' folks alive. She had talked some to the little girl, and she had asked me to look out for the luggage. "Well, when Mrs. Schulkill dies on the way to the hospital, and her name appears in the list of those lost, along comes Kitty's relatives, the folks they were comin' to live with. I turned over the luggage and all that sort of stuff we could get off the Alameda before she foundered, but I just made up my mind I'd keep an eye on Kitty. Also, I'd hold on to her papers a bit, 'til these folks really proved they were good friends to the orphan." He shook his head in decision at the memory. "I've done that," he declared, "and I have the papers. Now, they worry me some. How do I know what'll happen to me? I'm gettin' old, and the seas are pretty rough at times." He paused, and the girls noticed how gray his face looked, and how haggard and heavily lined. "This packet of papers was in a tin box," he then explained. "Kitty's mother was comin' home from Holland, and being a widow, she kept all her little belongings with her. I have them in the same little box, and as I have glanced over them I just feel they'll be mighty interestin' when the girl gets sense enough to understand them. "Now, I've thought of turnin' them over to a lawyer here, but what would that mean? A fee; of course, I have no fee, neither has Kitty. Then, if I trust some one around here, they'll likely go pokin' into them, curious like; and I don't want to do a thing like that to the mother who left her little girl in my arms." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. The papers were plainly a considerable responsibility to carry. He looked out over the sea again, and shook his head thoughtfully. "Are they letters or documents?" asked Cleo. "Little of both," replied the captain. "And this is my plan. You girls must know some organization that would just take this little responsibility off Dave's shoulders." "Certainly," spoke up Louise. "The Girl Scouts have a very trustworthy headquarters, and if this particular piece of work was not ours we could very readily place it where it belongs." "Exactly, just exactly. That's what I've been a-thinkin'," said the Captain. "There are Children's Aids, Travellers' Aids and all sorts of legal aids for just such purposes," said Margaret, "and if we bring anything confidential to the secretary at our headquarters, you may rest assured it will be placed where it belongs." "Now, isn't that fine!" exclaimed the old sailor. "But you are not goin' up to the city soon, I take it, and I've just got a notion I'd like them papers put in safer quarters. No tellin' when I may be transferred, and then I wouldn't have time to think of the little tin box. Could one of you take it now, and put it in your family safe?" he asked. The girls looked at one another speculatively. No one was personally anxious to assume such a responsibility. "Louise, your daddy is a lawyer. He would know all about a thing like that. You take it?" urged Margaret. After some discussion Louise finally agreed to accept the charge and old Dave shuffled over to his cupboard, procured a rusty tin box, and placed it in the scout's hand. "There," he said with a sigh of relief. "I'm glad to get rid of that. It was like the little bundle of letters tied with blue ribbon, that we read about in love stories--not much to the world, but a lot to the right girl," he orated. Louise looked at the box almost reverently. Just as Dave had said "not much to the world but a lot to the right girl," she thought. "All right, Captain," she said bravely. "I am sure, simple as this is it does mean something, and as you say, Kitty is not yet wise enough to appreciate her mother's letters. So I accept the charge, and you may call upon me to report at any time you choose." "Now, if I'm sent over to the Hook, I won't have to move quite so much," said Dave with something like a chuckle, for the box was a very small article to worry about in event of an ordinary moving. "Also," he continued, "I'll feel Kitty is in good hands with this sort of--well, sort of claim on your friendship," he stammered. "You see, how wise I am, to link you together this way?" It had been rather a serious half hour, and the True Treds were not prone to stay concentrated for any prolonged length of time. As it was, Isabel had been counting the blocks in the faded red table cover, and Helen was drawing pictures with a burnt match on the back of a marine magazine. "Now, I've got some good news, after all the old mildewed stuff," said Captain Dave. "You have been wanting to see our men at drill. What would you say to coming down some morning soon--and--and----Wonder would I be spilling the beans if I told you a secret?" he broke off. "Trust us to pick them up carefully if you do, Captain," volunteered Cleo. "Well, here's the news," and he sank lower in his chair, dropped his head deeper on his shoulders, and seemed to assume the most secretive and confidential air. "Listen," he commanded. "The Boy Scouts are to have a wig wag trial. They may have been a little mite jealous of your reputation, or something like that, anyhow, they've fixed it up to do a grand stand stunt, and they've enlisted the Beach Patrol----" "But we have been begging for that all summer," interrupted Grace immediately on the offensive. "I recall that, and it's why I am spilling the beans. Why can't you all join in?" "With the Boy Scouts?" It was Louise who spoke. "Certainly," Margaret hurried to say. "Why not? They will enter us if we send an application. Oh, goody-good! Louise run right home with the tin box, lock it in the safe and come have a troop meeting," sang out Margaret. "Don't have to say where you heard the news, do you?" asked the captain with a chuckle. "Certainly not," declared Cleo. "Besides, we know exactly where we can verify it. Come on, girls. Let's interview the clerk at the landing soda fountain. You remember he told us he was a scout." They all remembered, and ran thither forewith, as Grace would say. "To think of the boys planning to outdo us in glory," Cleo reflected. "Well, we had better be busy, True Treds, and get ready to prove our mettle." It was exciting even to anticipate, and that the Boy Scouts were going to considerable trouble in their preparations now dawned forcibly upon the girls. "That's what all the wig wag practising has been for," Margaret declared. "I have seen the boys on the beach every morning so early. I'm sure they know the code backwards and forwards." "Exactly," agreed Louise. "How many brought manuals?" "I did," replied Julia, but it was a solo. "Then, we will all have to look over your shoulder, Julia dear," said Cleo. "It would be dreadful if we missed a letter." "How are we going to get in the contest though? That's what worries me," declared Helen. "First, find out all about it," advised Cleo practically. "Then, follow the advice of our friend what's-his-name at the landing. Louise, be careful of Kitty's papers," she ordered. "Isn't it lovely to have won the confidence of Captain Dave?" "Lovelier still to live up to it," replied Louise, in her best oratorical tone, "I would have preferred some one else to take the tin box, but since I have it, I suppose I'll have to sit up nights watching it," she deplored. "Lucky it's only letters, and not deeds to some monarchy," put in Helen. "But count on all of us, Weasie dear, to stand by you in case of any safe-blowing at midnight." "I'm so excited about the contest, I can almost forget Kitty and Luna Land," gurgled Margaret. They were running along the lakeside, up to the river landing, with the hope of gaining the boy's confidence over nut sundaes. "He's there! That's lucky!" Helen said, sighting in the open pavilion, the desired Boy Scout, just in the act of sizzling a soda. "And he has on a clean apron, a good sign," said Margaret under her breath. Tables nearest the water and farthest from land (thus most secluded) were chosen, and favorite frappes were smilingly ordered. "Listen to catch his name," whispered Cleo, but a call for "Tommie" voided the suggestion. Tommie fetched their sundaes in that miraculous way waiters have of carrying cup and saucers heaped up, just as jugglers catch them. "Been practicin'?" inquired Grace glibly. "What for?" asked Tommie, whisking his towel over the table. "Why, for the contest," answered Grace, as if the whole world should know that. "Oh, yes a little," admitted Tommie, gliding off to a new customer. "Didn't notice that he waved any program," said Louise. "Don't give up," Margaret encouraged. "I could manage another sundae." "So could I if I had the price," said Helen dryly. Cleo tapped on the table and Tommie sauntered back. "Say Tommie, you know we are strangers here," she began adroitly, "and don't know a single Girl Scout in town, and we are supposed to keep up our activities. How do we get in the contest?" "Who told you about it?" he asked, his face betraying the fatal boyish weakness of succumbing to girls' flattering attention. "Why, folks are talking about it, of course," went on Cleo sweetly. "It promises to be a big event." "Bet your life," and the secret spring had been tapped. "That will be some event. We wanted to flash a surprise, but you being Girl Scouts, I think you ought to be in it." "Of course, we should," came a chorus. "Tell you what I'll do. I'll propose it at to-night's meeting. I saw you girls save the Bentley chap, and I know you're game," he said stoutly, "so I don't see why not." "Good for you, Tommie!" Helen wanted to cheer. "And when they put you up for office, just let the True Treds know." "That's right, Tommie," Cleo assured the blushing boy. "We'll see you through." And why shouldn't they? As Tommie said: "I don't see why not." CHAPTER XVIII THE WIG WAG RESCUE "THEY'LL be sure to enjoy the shouting," Julia remarked, "but aside from that, I don't see what interest spectators can possibly work up in a wig wag contest." "We almost agree with you, Julie," said Grace, "but don't you know everything, including bad weather, is interesting at the beach?" "All right, scouty, I'm glad of it, for I think it is going to be simply great. And wasn't it splendid to get the sanction of headquarters?" "Trust Cleo to take care of the official end," replied Grace. "Don't forget to-day is the day, and the pier is the place." Signs of activity about the life saving station always gathered a crowd, and to-day the appearance of the men in uniform, pulling out the life lines, hoisting the buoys and running the life boat down to the water, drew more than the usual number of spectators. It was Scout Day and everybody seemed to know it. The boys having agreed to accept the challenge of the girls, in true scout chivalry, now offered the girls every possible courtesy, even to choice of place at which to stand for the wig wag try out. It was arranged that Captain Dave's men were to row outside the fish nets, and wait there for their code to be waved to them for a "wreck off the hook." The exactness and quickness with which the message was waved was to be judged by a committee of citizens with the mayor as the honorary leader. It had all been carefully planned as a summer attraction, and the scouts were to share in honors for their respective troops. The blare of the firemen's band, affording more blare than music, proclaimed the time had come for a start, and the crack of Mayor Jones' revolver gave the signal for a race through the sand to gain places. Cleo, Grace, Margaret and Louise won the post for True Treds, they having outdistanced the boys who were led by Tommie Johnson, and who was said to stumble purposely so that the girls might reach the pier first. However that might be, the True Treds liked Tommie, and he seemed to like them "pretty well," as Grace expressed it. No chance for holding conversation as a contest preliminary, for the four scouts were scattered at regular distances over the five hundred foot pier, while the boys on the sand, were dotted at similar distances, each armed with the red and white signal flag. An exhibition of signalling was first presented, and this evoked generous applause from the crowds that jammed the board walk. Naturally the girls from their platform on the pier, "looked the prettiest," but the way they flashed their code did not admit of any self consciousness on the score of looks. In a brief interval Grace waved to Louise a message in the True Tred secret code, and this was taken up by Cleo and Margaret who relayed it to Helen and Julia in their positions on the beach. "Grace says 'nervous,'" whispered Helen, "and she is never nervous. I wonder what she means?" "Just joking, I guess. No, see they are sending 'a,' that's error, of course," replied Julia, holding her own flag up in the interrogatory slant. But the signal for the second event precluded any possibility of following out the private messages and presently all were again wrapped in attention at the silent waving contest--that language of distance, copied from the trees, and fashioned from the winds. "Look! Look!" gasped Julia. "Louise is waving danger! What can be the matter." Frantically the little scout on the extreme end of the pier was spelling "danger," then shooting her flag out to demand "attention." "Oh, it's some one on the water," whispered Helen, fearful of causing a panic in that crowd. "And she is signalling the life boat," gasped Julia. "But how far is it away?" Suddenly Louise was seen to throw her flag high in the air, and dive from the pier! Shouts, screams, and yells rent the air! "The boat, the guard, the life line!" the air itself seemed to form the words, but only that speck at the end of the pier could be seen now, bobbing up and down, then--yes--it was a little boat, a canoe! That was what the scout had dived for! If ever they had occasion to summon and use courage, the scouts, both boys and girls, had need of it now. Along the boardwalk the excitement was so intense as to cause danger of children being trampled on, and in this emergency those Girl Scouts not on the pier helped the Boy Scouts in efforts to prevent disaster. But it was that tiny spot on the water that held the crowd with a bated breath. "She must drown! Oh, that lovely girl!" they were gasping. "Louise won't drown," said Julia, her face white as the muslin in her flag. "No, Weasie _can_ swim," Helen assured her, holding her arm very tight, and begging comfort in the embrace. "And we can't even get near her," moaned Julia, who just then had rescued a very little tot from a plunge down the high steps into the street. "The line, the boat, they have her!" came another shout, and Julia wanted to sink on her knees. "Oh, is the boat there? Can you see, Helen?" she begged. "Yes, yes, it's the life boat, they have come! Didn't it seem an eternity?" Instantly the accident occurred police officers had roped off the end of the pier to prevent any one rushing in, and now there stood at the steps the formidable ambulance. "Oh, they must not take her to a hospital," wailed Helen. "Let us get to her, Julia. She will surely be all right in a little while." "They are bringing them in a life boat," a gentlemen with marine glasses said. He had seen their distress and recognized their uniform. "Oh, thank you, but how can we get to them?" begged Julia. "If only we could move through this awful crowd." "I have a police whistle," he said. "I'll just blow it, and when the officer answers I'll explain. Remain quietly where you are." The magic whistle shrilled its signal, and the crowd fell back, while the motorcycle officer answered. The gentleman quickly explained the situation, and the two girls climbed to the rear seat of the motor, where they clung, as the officer piloted them through the autos and street crowds up to the pier. "They're in! They're in!" the people were now shouting. But Julia and Helen were almost afraid to look. Leaving his motorcycle at the boardwalk, the officer led the girls down on the sands where the life boat had just made shore. "Who--is--it, with her?" breathed Julia, for they could now see that Louise sat up in the boat and had some one in her arms. "It's Kitty!" shouted Helen. "She jumped to save Kitty. Oh, Louise, you darling! You brave little True Tred!" she cried. "Let me get to her." In another moment Julia and Helen were with Cleo and Margaret, who had easily climbed down the pier, and were there when the boat came in. Scarcely speaking, the little group waited for a space to reach the life boat. Louise, dripping, and sobbing just a little, sat in the skiff--with the seemingly lifeless form of Kitty in her arms. Quickly as landing was made one of the life savers picked up the unconscious girl, and rushed off with her, while another attempted to lift Louise. "Oh, I'm all right," she protested. "I don't need any help at all." But Captain Dave was there and he took no such chance. "Here, my girl," he commanded in a voice of the seas. "Lean on me and come up to the station. Come along," this to the other scouts, "and you young ones keep back there," to the boys. Louise took a few steps, then faltered. As if expecting this the captain stooped and lifted her in his arms, and it was a sight to remember, to see that old sailor, trudge along through the sands with the little girl scout almost on his broad shoulders. And the remainder of the True Tred Troop were pressing along at his heels. "Keep back there, keep away," warned the kind officer to the surging crowd, for the unspoken admiration for the Girl Scouts was now mounting high. Tommie Johnson was so proud of "his friends" that something like mutiny seemed imminent in the boys' ranks. "I told you, I told you!" he kept repeating, quite as if he had foretold the entire occurrence, when he only really referred to the courage of the Girl Scouts. Up in the life saving station guards vied with one another in making hot tea, and giving such administrations as might benefit Louise, while she waited a few moments before being permitted to get in any one of the many cars, offered to take her home. "But I am really only wet now," she insisted finally, "and I want to get out of this heavy uniform." Realizing her mother might have heard any of the possible wild rumors, Captain Dave helped her into Cleo's car and very proud indeed, was the old sailor, of the wig wag rescue. "No surprise to me," he told his men. "Those girls have the grit many a boy might well boast of, and when I saw her drop from that pier I did not have to hold my breath. I knew she'd make it." "But how did she see that speck of a canoe creep around the pier?" asked Jim Barstow, the oldest member of the crew next to Captain Dave. "Maybe she felt it," said the captain. "'Taint likely much would happen to Kitty without that little girl feeling it." But his men knew nothing of the trust he was recalling, that might have formed the link of confidence between the scouts and Kitty Scuttle. Elizabeth, wise little friend, had rushed from the pavilion to the home of Louise, to make sure no report of drowning should reach the ears of the anxious mother. "It was the most glorious sight," Elizabeth was just insisting when Gerald drew up with the blue car, and Louise jumped out into her mother's arms. "Up to the hospital, Jerry," ordered Cleo. "We must see how Kitty is." Julia and Helen went with Cleo, and it was their uniform, as usual, that served as a pass, admitting them to the hospital. Kitty had been revived, and was now becoming obstreperous, she insisted on going home, and was loudly declaring her Uncle Pete would die of fright, when he missed her and the canoe. At the entrance of Cleo and Julia (Helen did not come in) Kitty all but bounced out of the little white bed, and then, when she could get her thin arms around Cleo's neck--then the tears fell. "That will be good for her," said the nurse very quietly to Julia. "She has been so wrought up, the outburst will relieve the strain." But how Kitty could cry! And how she did yell! Cleo patted her shoulders and soothed her with every sort of affectionate protestation, but all the girl seemed to want to do was cry, and cry she did for so long a time, the scouts felt more helpless with her than they had in the real critical stage of the emergency. "You be good, Kitty," said Cleo finally. "And I'll go right up to the landing and shout for Uncle Pete. Then, when he comes over, I'll tell him all about it--that is how you are perfectly all right," she corrected herself. "If you are very quiet, and good, maybe the nurse will let me in again to tell you what he says." "And do you think I'm going to stay in this horspittal all night?" protested Kitty. "Don't I know what they did to my mother." This started another outburst, and seeing the hysterical child was not apt to soon be quieted, the nurse insisted on her swallowing a dose of bromide, and at that juncture the girls quietly stole from the bedside. Gerald "dropped" Julia at her cottage, then Cleo and Helen were driven to the landing. No need to shout over to the island, for Uncle Pete stood there, on the narrow dock, watching the road with anxious eyes. It was hard to assure him of Kitty's safety, and only his personal knowledge of the power of the scouts, gleaned from his own experience when they had rescued him some weeks before, did finally allay his fears. "We'll fetch her back, first thing in the morning," they promised, and then they watched the old man pull his oars with a weary stroke, toward the lonely little island, called Luna Land. CHAPTER XIX THE GLORIOUS AFTERMATH THE wig wag contest had furnished enough excitement at Sea Crest to constitute a nine day's wonder. Nothing short of an uncanny power seemed attributed to the Girl Scout, who would risk her own life in a dive from that pier, when she saw a canoe upset beneath. The whole occurrence had been so spectacular that the publicity it provoked was widespread--every one was talking of the wig wag rescue. "But, Weasie dear," cooed Grace, "what did it feel like to jump? Just tell us that and then we'll let you off." Louise smiled wanly. Was it possible that any other question could be invented? "It didn't exactly feel," she replied to Grace, "but I knew I had to do it. I had been watching the little speck of a boat as it took the rollers from the side, and I knew the next would toss it over. Then I saw Kitty--and I didn't think of the distance after that." "You looked about as big as a fish hawk diving for his dinner," remarked Cleo, "and you nipped Kitty just as neatly as a hawk pecks his fish." "I felt just like that--it is birdlike to dive from such a distance," Louise said, "and cutting through the air, free of everything--is--is wonderful." "Even with the ocean as a backstop?" asked Helen shivering. "Nice and soft," Louise said reflectively. "But however did you hold on to Kitty, and cling to the canoe?" persisted Grace, in spite of the promise to cease questioning. "I don't know. It was black for awhile, and I just struggled to keep up, and to keep Kitty up. She was too scared to help herself, and she had swallowed a lot of water. I guess I managed to cling to the canoe--Girls, you don't know what you can do until you have to," she finished. It was still early, but the visit to Kitty at the hospital had to be made early, according to promise. Louise and Margaret were to go, and the other scouts, especially Julia and Grace, were going in the car as far as the village, to be picked up there by the girl's car on the way back. They found the patient dressed, and being forcibly detained, as the nurse put it. In fact, Kitty had been dressed since day break, and nothing short of force did detain her. "Good thing you come now," she greeted Margaret. "Oh, there's my life-saver. Hello, McGinty, how's the water to-day? I don't want to test it though," she shook her cropped head, and the girls noticed how much better that hair looked since its salt water shampoo. "Don't hurry so, Kitty. You have plenty of time. Uncle Pete said he would be over at the landing at ten o'clock, and it's only nine now." Louise told her. "No matter what time," she retorted, "it's next year to me. This place is haunted sure. I was fishin' with ghosts all night." "That was your bromide," Margaret assured her. "You were so excited and hysterical you simply had to be quieted down. Do you feel all right?" "Don't know as I feel at all," Kitty answered, jerking herself up to make sure she had not grown fins. "I never want to read that Jonah story again. But I knew it! I knew it!" and she chewed her lips in repressed bitterness. "Knew what?" Louise asked. "That the old monster ocean would try to swallow me," she replied. "Didn't I tell you I would never go on that water after what it done to me? But I did want to see that wig waggin' and I went out because--" She stopped, and the sharp little black eyes were glistening. "I know, Kitty. You wanted to see us beat the boys, didn't you?" asked Louise. "Well, we did it, and maybe if you hadn't--got spilled, I couldn't have won on the signalling. You see, the life boat was out there watching, and they caught my message, and just shot in--lucky for you and me." "If I knowed Captain Dave's men were out there, I wouldn't have been so scared to death," Kitty said. "But anyhow, I'm goin' home," and she made for the door. "Good-by, nurse, you've been real good to me. I like your cookin' first rate, and I'll fetch you the first mess of clams I dig," she offered. The nurse was amused and interested. Kitty had given her a new line on patients. From the time her wet clothes had been taken from her, Kitty had threatened to go out on the fire escape in the hospital robe, if they were not returned very early in the morning, and nurse knew very well, she intended to carry out the threat. There was no bag or luggage to leave with Kitty, neither did she dally in her exit. Rather, she was in the car and waiting, before Margaret and Louise could possibly get down the stairs and reach the sidewalk. "I love automobiles," said Kitty, as they climbed in, and Leonore touched the starter. "Wish you would take a longer ride," Margaret remarked. "It would do you good." "Can't, wish I could," the girl replied a bit wistfully. "Don't know what's happened since I've been away. Hope Bentley was there." Margaret then noticed an anxiety that seemed to make a woman out of the winsome child. "You're not worrying about Uncle Pete?" asked Louise. "The girl said he was all right last evening." "Oh no, it isn't Uncle Pete I'm worrying about," replied Kitty. But she did not attempt to explain further, and the girls noticed the omission. Turning carefully into the little sand road that led to the landing, Leonore slowed down. A boy just stepped from the pavilion. "Oh, there's Bentley!" shouted Kitty. "Hello, Ben!" she called waving frantically. No wonder she was so delighted, thought her companions. It was almost like coming back from the grave. "Hello, Kitty," replied Bentley quickly as he could make out the figure in the back seat of the car. His face showed his pleasure. For Kitty to have been snatched from the waves, and then spend the night in the hospital, was really an occurrence. "Wait a minute, wait a minute," she rattled on. The "waits" were addressed one to Bentley and the other to Leonore. "I'm going over with Ben. Got your boat?" "Yes, come on," called the boy, plainly glad to be of service to the heroine. "Uncle Pete is at the bend. I'll row you down to him." "Hello, Bentley," Louise called out. "Haven't we had a great time?" "I should say you had," he answered, cap in hand. "You're the life saver, aren't you?" "She's _it_," sang out Margaret gleefully. "Oh, say, girls" (now Bentley's bashfulness was threatening him), "did any of you lose a bag?" For a moment neither Margaret nor Louise remembered Elizabeth's lost bag with the shoes and stockings on the beach. Then it flashed on Margaret-- "Oh, yes with some other things," she stammered. "You know, Louise, Elizabeth left her bag with the things on the beach, moonlight bathing night--" "Yes, that's so," said Louise. "Why, Bentley? Did you find a bag?" "No, but I saw one in a shop, and I thought it might belong to some one of you girls. What sort did you lose?" Neither girl knew much about the lost bag, but Louise thought it might be a blue crochet. "Yes, that's it," said Bentley. "It has a tassel on it and it's blue. I'll get it for you next time I go over to Jake's," he offered. "Is it at Jake's?" exclaimed Kitty. "That's where I saw the dandy pumps with buckles on, and the swellest silk stockings. Louise, I'll get the bag for you, because I'm going over to Jake's to buy some of those things!" "Oh," exclaimed Louise, in a gale of laughter. "Those are our pumps and stockings. They were taken off from the beach." "You don't say?" and Kitty's tone allayed any possible suspicion. "That's just like Jake. Buys everything the boys offer, and no questions asked, just like they say in the papers. I tell you, I'll come around when I can," this rather dubiously, "and I'll get you girls, and we'll go and raid Jake. It'll do him good." When she raced off with Bentley and Leonore turned toward the village the scouts were still shaking with laughter. "We are to raid Jake's. Remember that," said Margaret. "But we will surely have to make a contribution to Kitty," said Louise. "She has had her eye on your buckles, Maggie." "Why didn't you see the patient all the way home?" asked Leonore, when they stopped for the other girls at the Post Office. "Oh, why didn't we?" reiterated Louise. "Leonore, she lives on forbidden ground. We have had a glimpse of it and hope for more, but we have to bide-a-wee, don't we, Margaret? Get me a quart of those peaches," she called out to Cleo, who seemed spellbound before a fruit stand. "And I want new apples," ordered Margaret. "Don't take any old cold storage stuff. I want new ones, if they do pizen me," she declared. "How folks stare," whispered Louise. "I'll have to leave off this handy little uniform for a while." "Not at all," protested Margaret. "We want folks to know who we are. I feel like giving the cheer this very minute." But the return of the marketers forestalled any such danger. Apples and peaches, and even a big melon, were piled in the car by the boy from the Italian fruit stand, and then Cleo insisted on every one having a soda before going back to Ocean Avenue. The drug store, where the best soda was served, filled many other civic needs than those of supplying sundaes and prescriptions. It also served as a town information bureau, and just now, while the girls were waiting for their order, a very pompous woman in the spickest, spannest white duck outfit, was asking questions from the prescription clerk. The girls heard him mention "the Point" and at this they stopped talking to "listen in." "But I must get my messages as quickly as they are received," said the white duck woman. "It is of the utmost importance." "Wireless messages have to be relayed," explained the man, "and besides that, we can't always get a boat over to the place." His voice was vindictive. "All right, but please be more careful," said the woman. "It is not a matter of money, you know." "We only have one kind of charge," fired back the clerk rather angrily. "Our boys are paid for their time, and that's all we ask." He turned away to answer the telephone, and the haughty creature left the drug store. As she did she made no excuse for an impertinent survey of the girls, sipping their sodas. "Know us the next time," said Cleo. "Surely will," added Louise. "And getting wireless messages for Luna Land! Now I'm all excited," and Margaret tried to make use of two drug store fans, one in each hand. "It is flabbergasting," gulped Louise, finishing her soda. "That white duck reminds me of something." "Of Kitty's nurse," Margaret exclaimed. "I think though, the wireless one has a crackle the hospital brand lacks. Kitty's nurse was quite noiseless." "That one wasn't, though," declared Julia. "She had enough starch in that outfit to defy even the Sea Crest dampness. Perhaps that was the real idea. Come on, scouts. Do you recall Neal is to take us out in his new launch?" "And did you hear he is going to call it the Treddie, after us?" added Grace. "Yes, wanted to make it True Tred, but we told him that was copyrighted," explained Julia. "Shall we dare ask for a trip to the Point?" inquired Helen. "That was the plan you know; first trip in the new launch." "We'll see. But come on, do. Leonore, you are a dear, to take us all about, and listen to our prattle," Cleo told the capable driver who had long since finished her soda, and was waiting patiently for the younger girls. "I like it," she replied with evident sincerity. "You shall have a box of sunburn cream for that," sang out Louise. "What is your brand? Or would you rather have a talcum?" Selecting from the bewildering display at the counter of summer toilet articles consumed still more time, until finally, realization that it was really lunch time, the fire bell announcing it, brought them all up sharply. "Wish we had our slippers and pumps back," said Grace. "These emergency sneaks certainly look the part. When did Kitty say we were to raid Jake's?" "No definite time was set, as they say about delayed scout meetings," replied Margaret, "but I could use my pretty buckled pumps this very afternoon." "Wait a minute," Helen called to a news boy. "We want a paper!" They always seemed to want something when in town. "Look! Look!" exclaimed Margaret, securing the sheet while some one else paid the boy. "We are all over the front page. Louise Hart, we will have to appoint a body guard for you, or the people will kidnap you. Just read this!" "Oh, just listen," insisted Cleo. "It says the Sea Crest Life Savers are going to ask the naval authorities to acknowledge the brave act----" But Louise had fallen back in a mock faint--The glory of the aftermath was getting a bit too thick for comfort. CHAPTER XX A REVELATION "ANYWHERE you like, and the bottom, not the sky, is the limit." It was Neal, replying to the girls' request for a trip to the Point in the Treddie. The party included Grace, Louise, Julia, Helen, Cleo, Isabel, Elizabeth and Corinne, the last named having run up from the Windward, to spend a few days with her school companions at Sea Crest. "A regular excursion," said Elizabeth. "We should have brought eats." "We may find them," suggested Neal, turning over his engine, whereat the Treddie chugged off. "This may look like an excursion, girls," said Cleo, "but it feels like an expedition. I'm quivering with excitement." "And I'm all goose flesh with apprehension," followed Louise. "How do we know what we are going to run into on Looney Land?" "We don't. There would be no fun in it if we did," Grace told her. "I've come armed. If bears or lions howl at me they'll get ammonia from my tree," she rhymed, exhibiting Benny's water pistol. "Spoof," Corinne exclaimed; "I thought we had wild terrors up at Windward, but we haven't come across bears nor injuns. Wish I had brought my illegal sling shot that I only use in self defense." "Treddie can tread," remarked Isabel. "Who was it walked on the water?" "Ancient or modern?" flipped Louise. "I'm busy thinking of walking on air just now." "Which way do you want to go first?" asked Neal, turning a little from his steering wheel. "To the Point," called Cleo. "Thought we were sure, positive, no mistake, going to Looney Land this time," grumbled Julia. "So we are but we will stop off at the Point, and feel the lay of the land first. We may get a line on the wild animals, you know." "I like motor boating even better than sail boating, and I thought the Blowell was perfect." This was Cleo's comment on the Treddie's trip, as the launch skimmed over the river and bay, rejoicing in every wave presented to her bow. "We won't get stuck on a sand bar, at any rate," reflected Louise. "This boat has power enough to push itself off." "But we could get engine troubles," Neal warned. "Although I don't anticipate any such disaster. Which one of you girls lives in the Gordon house?" he asked presently. "I do," said Grace. "Don't tell me they are coming back for anything?" "No, not just that," replied Neal; "but Dick Gordon is my chum. He has been out with a yachting party all summer, the Altons of New York, you know, and I had a line from his last port. He will be back in about a week. I'm awfully anxious to see him. We have great times always, but he got in service, through the Canadian lines, and I got--left, so I haven't seen Dick since." "They took very young boys in the Canadian service just before the armistice I know," said Cleo, "for my seventeen-year-old brother ran over there, and got the 'wings' the day before Peace Day." "Yes, that is how Dick made it," explained Neal. "But now he's getting back, a little late but mighty welcome." "I suppose he will want a look at his old room," said Grace. "It is just as he left it, I believe." "Yes, Dick has a hobby for sea stuff, and his marine room was his pride. But he won't bother you folks any; he isn't that sort," said Neal. "Now Grazie," teased Elizabeth, "look out for your window." "Rather I'll leave a love note on the sill, like the lady-faire of old," retorted Grace. "At any rate he is apt to call on me." "Here we are at the Point," called out Julia. "Don't fall overboard in landing." "If you want to go in at the island, after you have looked around here, there is a perfect stone arch at the other end. I'll take you over that way, if you like. It's one of the prettiest spots around here," suggested Neal. "Oh, yes, that will be splendid," Louise answered. "We have seen the island from two sides, and that must be at the extreme other end." There was no visible apprehension expressed in the way the girls landed at the point, and if they experienced such emotion, it was thoroughly disguised, for as a troop they simply besieged the strip of land, with one grand, vigorous yell. No Tenderfoots seemed included, but rather seasoned woodsmen; eager to climb, to beat down trails, "to confront the enemy" with open or closed fists--such daring indeed was manifested in their act of possession. "I'm so glad we came in at this end," said Cleo. "With all that shouting the little woman at the ice cream stand might take fright and go. Then what would we do for eats?" "Oh, there comes the carrier pigeon!" explained Grace. "Come on to the birches. See, he is going to land in there, same as he did before." "Yes, that's Lovey," declared Cleo. "I'm so glad all the girls will have a chance to see him. Hurry, and don't make too much noise." The graceful little gray dove was floating through the air, without a flutter of wing--just sailing on the breeze. Following Cleo's lead the girls made their way through the thicket, and presently were in the low, soft, velvety patch, the sort of maiden-hair grass that grows under the trees. "Here we are," almost whispered Isabel, for the bird was about settled on a tuft of meadow grass. "Oh, here's Kitty!" exclaimed Grace. "Kitty girl, what are you hiding from?" And there, crouched at the foot of a tree was Kitty. She looked like nothing so much as a toad-stool, a bit of human fungus growth, at the foot of that gentle birch tree. Her knees drawn up, and bare feet hiding in her bedraggled gingham skirt, Kitty was truly a sorry looking figure. "What is it?" asked Isabel. The girls had grouped themselves around in semi-circle, and even Lovey, the waiting messenger, was for the moment forgotten. Kitty raised her head and confessed to a pair of very red eyes. Her lips were trembling and the little cords of her face twitching. "I heard a racket, and thought she had sent them after me," stammered Kitty. "But it was only you," and just the glint of a smile played through her grief. "Who was coming after you? Whom did you fear, Kitty? Tell us!" asked Louise, slipping down on the green, beside the crouching figure. "Aunt Hannah. She came back from New York, and we didn't expect her. Somehow she found out about--about the accident, and she was furious." "Your Aunt Hannah?" pressed Grace. The girls sensed tragedy now. "Says she is, but she ain't, I'm going to ask Captain Dave for my papers and prove it." Kitty was recovering her courage, perhaps at the thought of battle. Louise longed to throw her arms about the child and tell her that her precious papers were that very moment in the Hart family safe, but she knew the time had not come for the revelation. "And she said she'd send them after me," moaned Kitty. "So I'm goin' to run away." "Send whom after you?" followed Corinne. "The reform school people, and I would be put behind bars for life." The sharp dark eyes gleamed until it seemed sparks would fly, but they were glints of pure terror, the girl was panic-stricken. "Just don't you worry, Kitty. We'll stand by you, and you shall never be put in such a place," Julia assured her. "Have you forgotten Captain Dave?" "No, but she is so much smarter than any one else. And I can't get off this Point without she sees me, and then she might send the police after me." That the fearful threat had been held over poor Kitty's head was now easily guessed--perhaps this was why she had been so secretive about Luna Land? "I'll run down to the dock and tell Neal to sail around the bay for a half hour," suggested Cleo. "Then, we can sit right down and talk things over with Kitty." "And here is Lovey with a letter from Bentley," said Kitty, now turning to the pigeon that had been hopping about, and picking at invisible bugs. "Whatever would I have done without Bentley. Come, Lovey!" Tame as a kitten the pigeon strutted up to Kitty's hand. She fondled it, gave it some crumbs from her pocket, then, from under the gray and white wing took the tiny quill that held the message. Cleo had returned, and the girls looked on in wonder, while Kitty unrolled the little slip, and deciphered the message. "Yes, she's over there yet, Bentley says. And Royal is crying for me." At this she threw up the tousled head and glared defiance. "I'm going right back," she cried. "She shan't scare me off now. That's just what she wants to do. She wants to steal Royal away, but she shan't, she shan't!" and only a hold on Kitty's arm, made as the girls realized she was running off, held her for another moment. "Who is Royal?" demanded Cleo. "Tell us! We must know." "I can't tell you. I'm pledged not to, and don't you think I have to keep a pledge? Do I?" This last was almost an appeal. "If it is a good pledge," answered Louise quickly. "I don't know whether it is good or bad," said Kitty freeing herself, "but I know I must get to Royal." "Can't we go with you?" asked Grace. "We are not afraid of any old Aunt Hannahs." "Oh, no, no, please, not yet. That would be so much worse. I have to be so tricky to save Royal, and if she suspected me I would lose everything. Not that I care for her old hundred dollars now. I wouldn't even take it," she declared. The girls were puzzled. Royal, it appeared, must be some child that Kitty was protecting, and this woman was holding a threatening club over Kitty's head. "Are you positive we can't come right over there and fight things out for you, Kitty?" asked Grace with a brave voice. "We have been waiting around here all summer for that sort of thing." "No, no," wailed the child, now running toward the little skiff which lay under the willow at the water's edge. "I'll call you if I get in trouble. See that high rock over on the far side of the island? Well, you can see that all the way from Sea Crest, and if you see a lantern hanging in that tree to-night, come. If it's day-time I'll put a white flag up, and the wind will wave it, but I don't believe she'll make trouble just now. All I was afraid of was being put away, and now I see why she said that. She just wanted me to run away. But I shan't. I'll stay, and I'll take care of little Royal." She was gone. Her oars lapped the waves and sent back their brave message as she turned into the cove that faced Luna Land. "Well, of all things!" exclaimed Cleo. "I expected you to say something a little more original," remarked Grace. "But I don't quite blame you. It is bewildering." "And Royal!" repeated Helen. "Royal made our signs and played with the little tools!" "And signed his name Peter Pan," recalled Louise. "Why should Kitty be watching a child with such a swell name?" queried Julia. "Why all the other things?" replied Elizabeth. "There's Neal's toot. We must go," announced Isabel. "I wish we could circle around the island," suggested Cleo. "No harm in that, surely. Every one goes as they please on the bay." "Grand idea!" exclaimed Helen. "Maybe we could see into the island from the boat. Come on. Hope Neal has some more time to spare." The owner of the Treddie was glad to circle the little isle, and when all had jumped in the launch, the trip home began with that preliminary dash. "I'll slow down so you can get a good look," Neal told them, and he understood enough about the interest in Luna Land to do his part. All eyes were strained toward the shore. "There's the pretty, rocky ledge Neal told us about," remarked Isabel. "Just see! It's like a movie rock. What a pretty arch it forms." But even the natural beauty of the rocky alcove did not furnish the point of interest they searched for. "Would you imagine that place hid human life?" said Cleo, a little disappointed. "Not even a tree branch moves." "Dense foliage," added Grace. "It would be pretty hard to see anything through those trees." The launch was covering the last strip of water that lapped the island. Every one seemed tense with an anxious sort of interest. Suddenly Helen jumped up. "Look," she called. "Over by the arch!" "The white duck lady!" cried Cleo. "See, she is looking at us through glasses." "Sit down Helen," ordered Grace. "Don't pretend we are interested, or she will know this launch." They were not far from the shore, and it was easy to discern the figure on the rock, who evidently used the glasses to make sure of the faces in the launch. "Maybe she's looking for her wireless," said Isabel. "Well, I am doubly sorry for Kitty if that's Aunt Hannah," declared Julia, and then the Treddie left Luna Land behind. CHAPTER XXI ON LUNA LAND GRACE tapped at the side window of the Log Cabin; she had climbed over the little stile-steps that mounted the fence between Rosabell and Cleo's cottage, and now she waited at the window for a sign of life within, for it was early, and summer folks could sleep late. Her round dimpled face was pressed to the pane with a rather serious look, and anyone might know to see her, that Grace was troubled. Cleo answered the call, throwing open the latticed window, and almost kissing Grace in the act. "Come in, Grazia. Why so early? Looking for the story book worm?" Cleo greeted. "I'm glad you are not out--on the lake I mean," answered Grace. "I'll come around to the side porch, Cleo, I must talk with you." On the big swing made of interlaced white birchwood, the two chums perched, and Grace promptly undertook to unburden her mind. "Cleo dear," she said, "I am so worried about Kitty. How do we know but that woman may have locked her up, or something?" "Strange, Grazia, I have been thinking just that myself. But how are we to find out without jeopardizing Kitty's interests? She begged us not to go over there." "I know, Cleo, but I have a plan. You and I can go to the Point. We will ask Tommie Johnston to row us over. He would not be busy so early, and a row boat doesn't make any noise. Then, we can go over to the island, and just feel our way around." "Splendid," agreed Cleo. "I'll be ready in a jiffy. Are you ready?" "Just have to tell Benny I'm going up the river," replied Grace. "We can easily be back in an hour." Tommie Johnston could go, and was glad to give the girls a sail in his freshly-painted boat, but he wagged his head seriously when Cleo said she had a message for Kitty, and was going to take it straight over to the island. "Miss Morehouse is over there," he said in warning, "I saw her sailin' around in her hospital clothes yesterday." "We don't mind. Is she Aunt Hannah?" Cleo asked. "Yes, that's the dame. Miss Hannah Morehouse, boss of Looney Land," replied Tommie, "and you've got a lot of nerve to trespass on her territory. She's mighty strict." "We are going to try it," insisted Grace, whereat Tommie pulled harder than ever on his oars. They stopped at the Point but everything was quiet there, if the wildest chirping of birds, and fluttering of all feathered creatures be overlooked. Before the human world moves birds seem happiest, and surely wildest, so that on the dewy summer morning, Grace and Cleo stepped onto the Point and into a perfect medley of bird language. "No one around here," commented Cleo. "Don't let us waste time." They hurried back to Tommie's boat, just in time to see a launch cut by. In it was the white duck woman, Miss Hannah Morehouse. "There she goes," said Tommie, with abroad and noisy grin. "You're in luck." "And we are glad of it," admitted Cleo, popping into the boat. "Which side shall we land at?" asked the boat man, as they brushed the sandy shore. "We don't know," answered Cleo. "Which way do you think is best? We would like to get on a quiet end, not near the cottages, if there are any?" said Grace. "Don't know much about it," said Tommie. "But I guess the far end is best--over by the Cave of the Winds," he finished, pointing his boat toward the rocky arch on the far side of the little island. The two scouts stepped cautiously ashore. That end of the island was banked with huge rocks that shot up almost straight, forming a natural fort, with the rugged, artistic arch at its base. Under the arch Grace and Cleo felt their way, and their attention was almost immediately arrested by a series of the pasteboard cards, signed "Peter Pan." "Little Royal's work," said Grace quietly. "Wonder if we shall see him?" Up from the rocks a sparkling little stream played. Its origin was a spring under a hill, and as it trickled along, in the tender growth of green, the girls felt instinctively the beauty of the little spot so hidden and isolated from the inhabitants of Sea Crest. "Lovely!" breathed Cleo. "Little Royal could hardly be lonely here." "Oh, yes, he could," contradicted Grace. "A child wants more than scenery to play with." They had gone but a short distance in the woods when something was heard threshing through the bushes. "It's he," said Cleo, and she secretly hoped no armed caretaker might appear with the child. A sudden swish, then from under a tangled elderberry bush there emerged a darling little boy. At the sight of the intruders he stood stock still in evident amazement. "Oh, I knew you would come!" he exclaimed, clapping his little hands in glee. "I knew my letters would reach you! What are your names, fairies? Please tell me, and are we going right now to Mama?" "How do you do, little boy," said Cleo. "Are you Royal?" "Yes, I'm Royal, and I know who you are. I've been expecting you a very long time." He came forward a little hesitatingly. Grace could not resist rushing up to him and throwing her arms about the pretty child. "Oh, you perfectly darling little boy," she exclaimed. "We know who you are, for Kitty has told us," and she hugged him quite indecorously for a fairy. He was so pretty. His light hair cropped at his ears did not succeed in preventing curls to tangle and his blue eyes were roguish as even a baby boy's should be. With these unerring features his color reflected the outdoor treatment, and his little form evinced unmistakably that quality for which we have no better term than "good breeding." Cleo stooped to pay her homage, and when Grace released Royal she caught him up. "Why do you want to go to mama?" she asked. "Where is mama?" "Oh, far away, and she cannot get back till the Royal comes in. Her boat is Royal too," he said proudly. "And who takes care of you?" pressed Grace, keeping in mind the prospect of almost any interruptions spoiling this valued confidence. "Kitty-dear does. There is Hannah, of course, but I don't like her, and I do like Kitty-dear," he said, with a brave echo in his childish voice. "And where do you live? Where is your house?" Cleo was peering through the trees, but could see no sign of anything like a dwelling. "Oh, I haven't any house; I must live outdoors. Dr. Grant ordered it, and I must roll in the mud. But I get tired rolling, and there isn't any real mud here, except what Kitty-dear fetches in the boat. Then we make mud pies, and that's fun. But you are going to take me for a boat ride now, aren't you? I have wanted one for such a long time." His voice was wistful, and his blue eyes were fastened on the boat, that through the trees could be seen, rocking on the water's edge, where Tommie waited. "Where is Kitty?" asked Cleo without answering the appeal for a long delayed boat ride. "She's busy with Uncle Pete," replied Royal. "Hannah wants lots of things done when she comes, but sometimes she gives Kitty-dear money, then we have cookies, but we never dare tell Hannah, 'cause I'm not allowed cookies," he said with a cute twist of his yellow head. "But you are the fairies who took my letters, aren't you? I knew when they were gone from their letter boxes on the birch trees, that I would surely get an answer! And see, I was right!" "I think I hear Kitty coming," said Grace. "Yes, here she is." "Well, I never," called Kitty gleefully. "Look who blew in!" "Hello, Kitty," called back Cleo, delighted to notice the high spirits Kitty flaunted. "We just did blow in from the bay to make a very early call. Hope we haven't interrupted any gardening?" This applied to Kitty's outfit, for she wore blue overalls, and a boy's cap, that looked better on her cropped head than could any other sort of hat, and her bare feet completed a really charming rustic picture. "Gardening, you said it!" exclaimed Kitty in pardonable slang. "That's what I have to do when 'her nibs' is in town. But thank goodness she's out for the day, and may have to run up to the city" (this in a mocking tone). "I hope she does, and I hope she gets tripped up in the run so she can't get back for a while. What do you think of my little Royal? I call him little Boy Blue, and he calls me Bo Peep, don't we have good times, Roy?" In answer the small boy rubbed his head against Kitty's overalls, like a fond little kitten. "We felt we must see you, Kitty," said Cleo seriously, "and we'll have to talk fast, as we left home so early and have to get back. Tommie is in the boat, and he too, must get back to the landing. Kitty, are you all right? and is everything all right?" "Pretty much," said Kitty with a little wink in Royal's direction. "I'm glad you came and would--you--like to see our lodgings?" "I'm afraid we can't wait this time," said Grace thinking it would be like Brother Benny to raise a still alarm that Grace had gone to that Looney Land. "But we can come back again soon." "You are going to take me with you," gleefully announced the boy making a start toward the rocky arch. "Oh, Roy dear, you wouldn't leave Kitty," protested the little caretaker. "You know we are both going together--" "But these are my fairies," and tears welled into the saucer blue eyes. "I can't--can't let them go away!" Two monster tears rolled right into the quivering lips. Cleo and Grace felt very helpless in this sort of predicament. It was one thing to dive off piers, and fish boys or girls out of the depths, but how to bank a flood of baby tears? Kitty knew. She took Royal in her arms and attempted to hoist him up a tree. "Peter Pan," she said severely. "See that cloud floating by! That's our airship, and very, very soon I promise we shall go to mother's land--in our ship of love. You see, these are the messenger fairies (she did not know what truth she spoke,) and they will soon return," she finished grandly. Grace and Cleo felt impelled to be fairies, and each raised fluttering arms, saved from comic effect by the love they betrayed in their smiling assent. "Yes, we surely will come back very soon," declared Grace. "And Little Peter Pan, you may watch us from your tree. We have a power boat--and a row boat--you can tell us by a signal. When we come we will wave a blue flag--a light blue one, like a piece of the sky," finished Grace. "All right," said the child, a little dolefully. "But I sat in the tree so often in my nighty, and Kitty-dear built steps so I could go up and down--" He paused, and bravely brushed away another big tear, with a motion that indicated dislike for feeble symbols. "Well hurry," said Cleo, seizing the chance of escape. "Good-bye little Royal-Boy-Blue-Peter Pan," she said merrily. "And good-bye, Kitty. Send a letter by Lovey dove, or by Bentley, and we will answer promptly." Kitty understood, and as they turned for a last look before stepping into Tommie's boat, they saw her holding Royal, as high on her shoulder as she could prop him; and he was wildly waving Kitty's blue cap. CHAPTER XXII A COMEDY OF THE ROCKS "OH, I am so excited, Cleo. Everything is happening at once. The girls have been down to Captain Dave's and he was delighted with his pipe and things, and Neal seized the loving cup. Says it belongs to his club, the one Dick Gordon was in. And--" she paused for breath, Cleo jumped in the opening. "Grazia, dear, don't choke. I am all of a flutter myself. Louise has had her father look over Kitty's papers, and it is almost too commonplace to tell, but it is just perfectly lovely, all the same. The name 'Schulkill' is on the deed to the property over at Luna Land, and the name Morehouse, that's the Aunt Hannah and Uncle Pete name, is only told of in Kitty's mother's letters. It will be very easy to establish Kitty's claim, Mr. Hart thinks, and Louise is so full of the news she wants to fly back to the island to tell Kitty without waiting for the message." "I don't blame her. We hoped there would be one important paper in that packet, there always is, else why all the tin box care? But isn't it strange a man like benevolent old Captain Dave never suspected such a thing? Men just seem to think women carry tin boxes out of shipwrecks to take care of hair pins, and little things like that." "I told the girls to wear their uniforms and Neal promised to take us all over this afternoon," Cleo continued. "Oh, Grace, I never quite expected so much excitement, but I must admit I love it," said the courageous scout. How the True Treds congregated, ready for the sail over the bay in the valiant Treddie need not be told, for the very next noticeable thing was they were all together, and ready for a start, piling into the launch, like an encore to their previous excursion. Everybody chatted, and chinned, and giggled, and asked questions; and the sky blue flag Grace carried folded in her blouse caused no end of comment. "Louise has had a double share of glory," said Helen, adding more to the share in her own tone of admiration. "She made a rescue, and found Kitty's deed to Luna Land." "But the curtain is not rung down yet," Cleo reminded her. "No telling what may happen this very afternoon." The boat clipped the waves so merrily the Point loomed in view almost before the girls realized they had entered the cove. "There's Bentley!" called Grace. "See, he is just standing on the dock, and he has a suitcase. Turn in there a minute, Neal, please. We would speak to him." Quickly as he spied the Treddie, Bentley waved his cap in signal for them to come in. "There," added Cleo; "he has a message, I think. See, he has a paper in his hand." "Don't get out," the boy called. "I'll throw it in," and wrapping a piece of paper weighted with a pebble, around the smaller slip, he easily tossed the message into Julia's lap. "It's addressed to the scouts," said Louise. "You read it, Cleo." The engine had not been turned off, so that it readily picked up speed again, as the girls waved gayly to Bentley. Cleo smoothed out the little note anxiously, and every one saw it was written on the old-time yellow paper. Cleo read aloud: "Bentley is going home and I won't stay here any longer. Watch for my wig-wag signal from the stone arch, and come to rescue me and Royal. Must watch for chance. About three, maybe." It was signed "Kitty." "Another wig-wag rescue," repeated Helen, fluttering with excitement. "Won't it be splendid to take them both away?" "But what shall we do with them?" asked Isabel. "I know one doesn't dare take even a lost child indoors without danger of arrest." "Then we'll keep them on the porch," replied Cleo crisply. "And we can notify Captain Dave or even our police officer. Then there will be no possibility of complications," said Louise. Another swing around the tail of the point, and Luna Land lay before them. All eyes were strained toward the rocky summit over the arch. "I see her!" shouted Julia. "Remember _I_ saw her first," and she stood to wave her camp hat in one hand and a handkerchief in the other. "Yes," added Grace, throwing the blue cheesecloth to the breeze, "there they are!" Kitty was waving her white flag against the green foliage background. "Oh, Neal go in quickly. Some one may catch them before we can reach them." Not another word was spoken until the launch scraped the rocks. "Stay where you are!" called Kitty. "We have to jump." "Why? They may be hurt," protested Elizabeth. But her companions had realized the situation. Kitty wanted to reach the launch from the secluded corner of the rock, and would not risk embarking from the natural landing, with its view all open. "Can we take the canvas?" Isabel asked Neal. A nod of his head gave permission, and before he seemed to know just what they were going to do, four of the girls had leapt to land. Cleo and Helen then tossed the bundled piece of awning over the side of the Treddie, and safely ashore, then climbed out themselves, and, like the firemen under burning buildings, stood the True Treds, with that big piece of canvas stretched under the leafy peak of the rocky archway. "Ready!" called out Kitty. A firmer grasp was made at every holding point, and then--a gentle thud. Little Royal bounced like a circus baby in the life net. Quickly two girls lifted him out and turned down to the launch, while the others held the net for Kitty, who came in with a jump that brought the rescuers to their knees, stifling a gale of laughter. "All right--no bones broken," gasped Kitty. "Hurry, they may be after us!" Quickly they all scrambled in the launch, while little Royal was in Neal's arms. "I knew it, I knew it," he kept repeating. "And this is just like daddy's little boat--" "Girls!" exclaimed Kitty, "I found your slippers and stockings and the bag among Aunt Hannah's things. They're in my bag." "Where is she?" Cleo asked, too impatient to wait for a more opportune moment. "She came back ready to take Roy away," Kitty said defiantly. "But I wouldn't trust her. I found a lot of papers and wireless messages, and I wouldn't let her sneak off with Royal. I just made up my mind she couldn't scare me any more, and I'd go to Uncle Dave's, and tell him all about it." "You are right," declared Louise. "I don't know very much about it, but it can do no harm for this little darling to leave that island. He was a regular prisoner there." "You said it!" replied Kitty. "And having the poor angel roll in the mud to get strong! Then sleeping in a hut to be outdoors, when I know positive, his folks paid her thousands of dollars to keep their child in a delightful high-class retreat--where everything was perfect, but very costly." "Oh, was that it?" asked Grace, looking at little Royal, as he helped steer the boat. "Yes, and more," insisted Kitty, her cheeks flaming with excitement. "She promised me a hundred dollars if I would keep every one off the island and look out for Roy. I thought it was a lot, but what about her thousands? Then, when I got in the accident the other day, and she was afraid folks might come here to see if I had pneumonia, she changed her mind, and refused to give me any money. Now she is back, and I know Royal's folks will soon be in New York and I just wouldn't trust her with him any more. That's why I had to ask you to rescue us. And you did!" In spite of her excitement she could laugh, and the humor presently became an acute infection for every one was shouting at the comedy of the rocks. And Kitty looked so funny. She was dressed up, had shoes and stockings on, and a "warmed over" hat, with pathetically drooping roses around it; and then the bag, with the long, lost slippers! "Come to my house first," insisted Grace. "I'm nearest." "I am to meet my friend this afternoon," said Neal, who was so busy with the boy and his engine he had never even heard the child's name mentioned. "He got in this morning after a stormy trip," went on the young man, "but his yacht, the Royal, made it all right, and Dick promised to be down late this afternoon." "The Royal!" gasped Kitty, Grace and Louise. "That's my yacht," sang out the boy gleefully. "Daddy and Mother and Ricky are coming home on the Royal!" "Oh joy!" shouted Louise, while Kitty gasped. "Do you mean to say the young man who runs the yacht is coming to see you?" She had seized Neal's shoulders as if to confront him with some horrible crime. "Careful," he said with a laugh. "You'll steer us against the dock. Yes, Richard Gordon who runs the Alton's yacht, Royal, is my friend," he answered, beginning to sense the true meaning of the affair. Five minutes later it was a queer little procession that wended the short way from the landing to Rosabell cottage. "I would like you to have seen the old dump," said Kitty, referring to Luna Land, "but I'll never go back there while Hannah is around. It's only a couple of shacks. Nothing to see but Bentley's camp. You see," in answer to the unspoken inquiry, "Bentley is an awful smart boy, who had to be taken out of school. He has a nice, good-natured big brother, Roger, who came down here, rented land from Uncle Pete, and pitched a couple of tents on Luna Land. They were on the other side of the island, but Ben had the carrier pigeons and we made up all kinds of outdoor games and he let me use all the yellow paper I wanted. He's gone back home, all well and ready for High School." This last sentence seemed to evoke a sigh from Kitty. "That was why he had his book always with him," said Cleo, and they turned the corner to Rosabell. CHAPTER XXIII SCOUTS EVERY ONE "WE have company," said Grace, noticing rather resentfully, that a strange figure occupied a corner of her porch. "And it's a man!" They were almost up to the steps. Evidently Mrs. Philow was very much interested with her guest, for she could be seen gesticulating earnestly. The girls quickened their steps and as they approached the figure turned, caught sight of the party of scouts, and stood with his cap in hand. "It's Ricky!" cried Royal, breaking away from Kitty's hold and running to the young man, who now stared in undisguised amazement. "Royal!" he called in answer. "As I live, our own little Royal!" "Well," gasped Neal, attempting to get his greeting in. "Isn't this rather a surprise?" "I should say so," answered his friend. "However did our bonny boy turn up here? I have burned out my wireless trying to get a word about him. Mrs. Alton is almost ill again worrying. Where have you been?" He was looking over the child with a familiar and critical eye. "I've been in the woods with Kitty, rolling in the mud and sleeping in a tree hammock," announced the boy proudly. "And, please, Ricky, I'm going to take Kitty home with me. She hasn't any nice girl's things in the woods." Mrs. Philow and Leonore were standing waiting for an opportunity to extend hospitality. "This young man just came to take a peek at his old room, Grace," the mother explained. "You see, he is the Mr. Gordon we have been hearing about, and now to think everybody knows everybody--" Leonore was blushing prettily. Neal had stepped aside to speak with her. No doubt, he was praising the running of his launch, and inviting her to try it. Kitty edged up to Royal and pinched his fat little leg. "You're not going to give me up, are you?" she said timidly. "Nopy-nope!" answered Royal. "You must come too. Ricky, where is mother? Take me to her." "I am going to do just that," replied the good-looking sailor. "Oh, no, please don't," begged Kitty. "I couldn't let Roy go out of my sight--I wouldn't," she protested. "But you may all come along. How would that be?" replied Richard Gordon. "My launch is lying at the pier, and the Royal is at anchor just over there." "And is our big yacht out there?" asked the little boy. "Surest thing," answered the yachtsman. "But how do I know--know you are not a kidnapper?" Kitty stammered suddenly. Every one laughed, but Kitty's distress was genuine. "He is not a kidnapper, Kitty. He is my Ricky," said Royal. "Please hurry and take me to mother." The girls were too surprised at the whole proceedings to venture any suggestion, but upon being pressed by Neal and Dick, it was arranged that all hands should take a flying trip out to the launch, and see Royal presented to his mother. Kitty objected--said she was afraid of the ocean, and made other excuses, but when she finally realized that the little boy would be taken off without her if she did not go, she at last consented. "Another excursion," called out Cleo. "Come on girls, the more the merrier," and chaperoned by Leonore, the party undertook that delightful sight--seeing a millionaire's yacht. A more dramatic picture than Kitty on that wonderful yacht can scarcely be imagined. It was awe-inspiring to every one, but to this quaint, picturesque little figure, it was nothing short of marvellous. Once Royal saw the slender, dainty little woman, he called "Muzzer" there was no longer any doubt as to the genuineness of the claim, in Kitty's mind. "Yep," she said. "That's the lady he talked about, that's his mother." "And to think I would have sailed away again without my baby, but for you," said Mrs. Alton to Kitty. "How can I ever thank you?" "I loved him, and we had good times," explained the girl, "but I would never have been brave enough to get away from Aunt Hannah but for these scouts. I'm going to be a Girl Scout as soon as I get in a higher grade," she said emphatically. It was quite a task to decide what to do with Kitty. They finally arranged that the two young men, Neal and Dick, would run around to the island, and brave the fury of Miss Hannah Morehouse, in a manner calculated to quiet any possible objections on her part. In fact Royal's father sent a very strong message, charging her with misusing the funds given in her charge, to be expended for his little son. "The whole proceeding is an outrage," declared the millionaire. "When the doctor ordered a sea voyage for my wife, and said it would be injurious to the child, this woman made plans to take the boy, live in the open, and roll in the mud and so forth." "She did that all right," broke in Kitty. "It seemed feasible," he continued, "and while she said it would be costly--that did not matter," turning to the group. "Why, I feel only the brave fight of this child has saved him for us. And I am not sure what course I shall pursue in dealing with Hannah Morehouse." "Only Daddy!" begged the golden-haired boy, who clung to his mother, "please don't let her come around here. She's too mean to Kitty and me, and we don't ever want to see her again, do we Kitty-dear?" "All ashore, who are going ashore!" called out Neal, and at that the happy party climbed back into the Runner, the auxiliary launch of the yacht, Royal, and in a few minutes were again at Sea Crest. "And you can come back with me, Kitty," begged Julia. "I have a big house and you can have a room to yourself until you are ready to go to school as Mrs. Alton wishes to arrange." "And Kitty," said Louise, when the bewildered child was quiet enough to listen, "you need not worry about the hundred dollars Miss Hannah refuses to pay you for you own a lot of property on Luna Land." "Aunt Hannah's property!" she gasped. "I knew it. I'll run her off the place, but I'll build a nice little house for good old Uncle Pete." "Here's your bag," said Grace; "don't lose it." "Oh, wait, girls, sit down until I give you your stockings and things." They dropped down on the terrace, and she dragged the things from her bag. She drew a purse from the very bottom of the satchel, and looked around before she opened it. "Now wait," she said again, biting her thin lips. Then she pulled out a piece of yellow paper from a rusty leather purse. "Our fire-bug threat," exclaimed Louise. "How did you get that?" "I wanted to tell you long ago, I was the Weasle, but it wasn't all my fault. Aunt Hannah said if I acted queer folks would shun me, and then I didn't have to worry so about hiding Royal. "When I got started at it, it seemed like fun. I had no girl friends, and I liked to scare the others, so I used to fix fires on the beach, and let them get fanned into flames by the wind. But I never set fire to chicken coops, and those other places. I guess robbers did that. Then, as soon as you girls came around, and acted so brave about it, I saw it was more fun to have friends than to scare them off," she finished with an expression of genuine contrition. "Well, it's all right now, Kitty, and you have been very brave to watch so faithfully over Royal. That was good scouting," said Isabel. "But think of Louise saving my life from the pier?" she exclaimed. "And what a fine moving picture we all made holding that life net for you this afternoon," Cleo reminded her, laughingly. "I can't quite believe it about the papers," Kitty reflected aloud. "The tin box is in my daddy's safe, but the deeds to Luna Land are being searched by lawyers," explained Louise. "Suppose we stop at Captain Dave's and tell him all the news first," suggested Margaret. "All agreed!" called Helen and it was almost sun down before the group in front of the station, with Kitty Schulkill as a centerpiece, disturbed the picture. It was the end of a day, the end of a vacation, and is the end of our story, until we meet the happy little group in our next volume, to be called "THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP COMALONG." THE END. THE GIRL SCOUT SERIES By LILIAN GARIS _12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors_ _=Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid=_ [Illustration] _The highest ideals of girlhood as advocated by the foremost organizations of America form the background for these stories and while unobtrusive there is a message in every volume._ =1. THE GIRL SCOUT PIONEERS= _or Winning the First B. C._ A story of the True Tred Troop in a Pennsylvania town. Two runaway girls, who want to see the city, are reclaimed through troop influence. The story is correct in scout detail. =2. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT BELLAIRE= _or Maid Mary's Awakening_ The story of a timid little maid who is afraid to take part in other girls' activities, while working nobly alone for high ideals. How she was discovered by the Bellaire Troop and came into her own as "Maid Mary" makes a fascinating story. =3. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT SEA CREST= _or The Wig Wag Rescue_ Luna Land, a little island by the sea, is wrapt in a mysterious seclusion, and Kitty Scuttle, a grotesque figure, succeeds in keeping all others at bay until the Girl Scouts come. =4. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP COMALONG= _or Peg of Tamarack Hills_ The girls of Bobolink Troop spend their summer on the shores of Lake Hocomo. Their discovery of Peg, the mysterious rider, and the clearing up of her remarkable adventures afford a vigorous plot. =5. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT ROCKY LEDGE= _or Nora's Real Vacation_ Nora Blair is the pampered daughter of a frivolous mother. Her dislike for the rugged life of Girl Scouts is eventually changed to appreciation, when the rescue of little Lucia, a woodland waif, becomes a problem for the girls to solve. _Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue_ * * * * * =CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York= Everybody Should Read NOBODY'S GIRL By HECTOR MALOT NOBODY'S GIRL, published in France under the title "En Famille," follows "Nobody's Boy" as a companion juvenile story, and takes place with it as one of the supreme juvenile stories of the world. Like "Nobody's Boy" it was also crowned by the Academy, and that literary judgment has also been verified by the test of time. Noble-minded little Perrine, left destitute and alone in the slums of Paris, must find her rich grandfather, several days' journey away, or no one knows what might happen to her. Even when she finds him, in the midst of his great factories, he may hate her because he had driven her father away from home and disinherited him. How she had the courage to go on and on until she reached Maraucourt, and obtained work in her grandfather's factory, and at last found a way into his heart, is through every step a story of the most absorbing interest to all lovers of childhood. She triumphs over all discomforts, perils and schemers with a firm faith in right things, and the perseverance of one unable to do wrong things. This disposition at last enables her to work great benefits for the people and ensures her the happiness of life lived at its best. This is one of the greatest of inspirational stories. Loyal ideals, with their inspiring sentiments, are preserved through the most discouraging conditions. The building up of a little girl's life is made a fine example for every child. _12 mo. Illustrated. Beautiful cloth binding, stamped in gold with cover inlay and jacket in colors_ _=Price per volume, $1.50 net=_ * * * * * =CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York= * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Varied hyphenation was retained, for example, bare-foot and barefoot and ball room and ball-room. Page 52, "posible" changed to "possible" (possible to do so) Page 83, "diectly" changed to "directly" (directly off the) Page 112, "Captian" changed to "Captain" (The Captain shook) Page 115, "realiable" changed to "reliable" (their reliable khaki) Page 149, "you're" changed to "your" (Louise, your daddy) Page 159, "towl" changed to "towel" (towel over the) Page 177, "terrrors" changed to "terrors" (had wild terrors) Page 188, "Luney" changed to "Looney" (boss of Looney) Page 190, "It's" changed to "Its" (Its origin was a) Page 192, "Hanorah" changed to "Hannah" (There is Hannah) Page 197, "Teddie" changed to "Treddie" (the valiant Treddie) 
5263	----	The Girl Scout Pioneers or Winning the First B. C. By Lillian C. Garis Author of "The Girl Scouts at Bellair," "The Girl Scouts at Sea Crest," etc. Illustrated CONTENTS CHAPTER I. GIRLS AND GIRLS II. WOODLAND THRILLS III. A NOBLE DEED UNDONE IV. PATHS DIVIDING V. A FRIENDLY ENEMY VI. A NOVEL JAIL VII. TENDERFOOT ADVENTURES VIII. CLUE TO THE MISSING IX. TRIBUTE OF ROSES X. TELLING SECRETS XI. THE TANGLED WEB XII. TESSIE XIII. BROKEN FAITH XIV. WOODLAND MAGIC XV. VENTURE TROOP XVI. MORE MYSTERIES XVII. JACQUELINE XVIII. DAISIES AND DANGERS XIX. THE FLYING SQUADRON XX. CLEO'S EXPERIMENT XXI. FORGING AHEAD XXII. THE WHIRLING MAY-POLE XXIII. RAINBOW'S END CHAPTER I GIRLS AND GIRLS It was much like a scene in a movie play. The shabby dark room lighted by a single oil lamp if any light could make its way through the badly smoked glass that served as a chimney, the broken chair, and the table piled high with what appeared to be rags, but which might have been intended for wearing apparel, the torn window curtain hanging so disconsolately from the broken cord it had one time proudly swung from, and the indescribable bed! Like some sentinel watching the calamitous surroundings, a girl stood in the midst of this squalor, her bright golden hair and her pretty fair face, with its azure blue eyes, marking a pathetic contrast to all the sordid, dark detail of the ill-kept room. She took from the side pocket of her plaid skirt a bit of crumpled paper, and placing it directly under the lamp, followed its written lines. Having finished the reading, she carefully folded the worn slip again, and returned it to her pocket. Then she threw back her pretty head, and any frequenter of the screen world would have known instantly that the girl had decided--and further, that her decision required courage, and perhaps defiance. With determination marking every move, she crossed to the tumbled bed, and stooping, dragged from beneath it a bag, the sort called "telescope," and used rarely now, even by the traveling salesman, who at one time found the sliding trunk so useful. It would "telescope," and being thus adjustable, lent its proportions to any sized burden imposed upon it. Into this the girl tossed a few articles selected from the rummage on the table, a pair of shoes gathered from more debris in a corner, and on top a sweater and skirt, taken from a peg on the door. All together this composed rather a pretentious assortment for the telescope. But the girl did not jam down the cover in that "movie" way common to runaways, rather she paused, glanced furtively about the gloomy place, and finally taking a candle from a very high shelf, lighted the taper, evidently for some delicate task in the way of gathering up her very personal belongings. In a remote corner of the room an upturned orange box served as sort of stand. The front was covered and festooned with a curtain, dexterously made of a bright skirt, hung over the sides, and draped from a knot at the top. The knot was drawn from the waist band of the skirt, and tied with the original string into a grotesque rosette. All over the box top were such articles as a girl might deem necessary in making a civilized toilette, except at the knot--where the table cover irradiated its fullness into really graceful folds, falling over the orange box-here, on account of the knob, no article was placed, and the rosette stood defiant over the whole surrounding. The girl placed the candle on a spot made clear for that small round, tin stand, and then glancing anxiously at the door, stole over to make sure that the bolt was shot, hurried back and proceeded to untie the knot of string responsible for the drapery over the orange box. By the glare of the candle's flame her fingers could be seen stained with oil, and grim, as they expertly worked at the tied-up skirt, and finally succeeded in pulling apart the ragged folds. Quickly she slipped one small hand beneath the calico, and, obtaining her quest, drew back to examine it. One, two, three green bills. Her savings and her fortune. Lights and shadows crossing the youthful face betrayed the hopes, and fears mingling with, such emotions as the girl lived through in this crowded hour, but no sooner had she slipped the small roll of bills into the flaring neck of her thin blouse, than a shaking at the door caused her to kick the telescope bag under the bed, hastily readjust the cover of the orange box, blow out the capering candle flame, and then open the door. A woman young in face but old in posture scuffled in. She wore a shawl on her head, although the season was warm April, and the plentiful quantities of material swathed in her attire proclaimed her foreign. "Oh, Dagmar. I am tired," she sighed. "I thought you would come down to fix supper for papa. You do not change your skirt? No?" "I was going to, so I locked the door," replied the girl Dagmar. "But I, too, was tired." "Yes, it is so. Well, the mill is not so bad. It has a new window near my bench, and I breathe better. But, daughter, we must go down. Keep the door locked as you dress. Those new peoples may not tell which is the right room." With a glance at the fair daughter, so unlike herself in coloring, the working mother dragged herself out again, and soon could be heard cliptrapping down the dark stairs that led to the kitchens on the first floor of the mill workers, community lodgings. Dagmar breathed deeply and clasped her hands tightly as her mother's tired foottread fell to an echo. Love filled the blue eyes and an affectionate smile wreathed the red lips. "Poor mother!" she sighed aloud. "I hate to--" Then again came that look of determination, and when Dagmar slipped down the stairs she carried the telescope and her crochetted hand bag. Her velvet tarn sat jauntily on those wonderful yellow curls, and her modern cape flew gracefully out, just showing the least fold of her best chiffon blouse. Dagmar wore strickly American clothes, selected in rather good taste, and they attracted much attention in the streets of Flosston. Once clear of the long brown building, through which spots of light now struck the night, out of those desperate rows and rows of machine-made windows, Dagmar made her way straight to the corner, then turned straight again to another long narrow street, her very steps corresponding to that painful directness of line and plan, common to towns made by mill-owners for their employees. Even the stars, now pricking their way through the blue, seemed to throw down straight lines of light on Flosston; nothing varied the mechanical exactness, and monotonous squares and angles of streets, buildings, and high board fences. One more sharp turn brought the girl within sight of a square, squatty railroad station, and as she sped toward it she caught sight of the figure of another girl, outlined in the shadows. This figure was taller and larger in form than herself, and as Dagmar whistled softly, the girl ahead stopped. "Oh, you got my note," said the other. "I am so glad. I was afraid you would not come." "I'm here," replied Dagmar, "bag and baggage, mostly bag," kicking the accommodating and inoffensive telescope. "I hate to carry this thing." "Oh, that's all right," replied the taller girl, who, under a street lamp, showed a face older than Dagmar's and perhaps a little hard and rough. Just that bold defiant look, so often affected by girls accustomed to fighting their way through the everyday hardships of walled-in surroundings. "Tessie, I am afraid," confessed the younger girl. "I almost cried when Mama asked me to fix supper." "Oh, baby! You are too pretty, that's all's the matter with you. But just wait. Hush! There's that crowd of nifty-nice, preachy, snippy scout girls. Duck, or they'll be on our trail," and she dragged her companion around the corner of the high fence, where, in the shadow of its bill-posted height they crouched, until the laughing, happy girls of True Tred Troop, just out from their early evening meeting at Sunset Hall, over the post-office, had passed down into Elm Street. "I think they saw us," whispered Dagmar, "I heard one girl say some one was hiding by the signboard." "We should worry," flippantly replied Tessie. "I guess they are too busy thinking about their old wigwagging to notice mill girls." "Oh, you're mean, Tessie. I think they are real nice. They always say hello to me." "That's because you are pretty," snubbed the older girl, with something like common spite in her voice. "Here they come back! Guess they lost something." "We'd better be moving the other way, then. Pshaw! We will sure be late if they keep up their trailing around. Come along. Just be so busy talking to me they won't get a chance to give you their lovely hello. It would be all up with us if they spied us." With a persuasion not entirely welcome to Dagmar, Tessie again dragged her along, this time turning away from the dim lights that showed through the window of Flosston station. Presently the group of scout girls could be heard exchanging opinions on the possibility of finding something lost. One thought it might have dropped in the deep gutter, another declared she would have heard it fall if it hit the many stones along the sidewalk, and still another expressed the view that it would be impossible to find it until daylight, no matter where it had fallen. "But I just got it, and wanted to wear it so much," wailed the girl most concerned. "I think it is too mean--" "Now, we will be sure to find it in daylight," assured the tall girl, evidently the captain. "I will be around here before even the mill hands pass. Don't worry, Margaret. If we don't find it, I shall send to headquarters for another." "But I shall never love it as I did that one," and tears were in the voice. "Besides, think of all the lovely time we had at the presentation!" "Now come," softly ordered the tall girl. "No use prowling around here, we can't see anything with matches. I promise you, Margaret, you shall have another badge in time for the rally if we do not find this," and reluctantly the party of searchers turned again in the direction of the village. Watching their opportunity, the two mill girls came out from the shadows of the high fence they had been trusting to shield them from the view of the scouts. With quickened step they now turned again towards the station. "Dear me!" exclaimed Tessie. "Haven't we had awful luck for a start? Hope it won't follow us along." "Well, the more we delay the more I want to go back home," Dagmar replied rather timidly. "Tessie, I am afraid I will not be able to look at things your way. I seem to have different ideas." "Now, Daggie. Don't go getting scary. I don't care whether you think my way or not. I won't fight about it. Let's hurry," and with renewed protestations of real companionship, the older girl grasped the arm of the younger, as if fearful of losing her hold on the other's confidence. "Oh, please don't call me Daggie," objected Dagmar, freeing herself from the rather too securely pressed arm grasp. "You know how I hate that. Always makes me feel like a daggar. Call me Marrie. That's American, and I am an American, you know." "All right, little Liberty. I'll call you Georgianna Washington if you say so, Marrie. That's like putting on airs for Marie. But just as you say," evidently willing to make any concession to have the younger girl accept her own terms. "Wait! My foot struck something," exclaimed Dagmar, just reaching the spot where burnt matches left the trail of the girl scout searchers. "There, I found the badge." "Oh, let's look! Is it gold?" They stopped under the street lamp to examine the trinket. "No, it isn't gold, I think, but isn't it pretty?" "Kinda," urging Dagmar along. "Say, kid, what is this anyway? A stopover we've Struck? Are we going tonight or some other night?" "I'll have to give this badge back." "Why will you? Didn't you find it? Isn't it yours?" "Of course not. It belongs to the girl who lost it." "Oh, I see. That's why I should call you Georgianna Washington," with a note of scorn in her voice. "Well, if you want to go back, and get some one to go out ringing the town bell with you, you may find the nice little girl scout who lost her baby badge. As for me--I'm going." Sheer contempt now sounded unmistakably in the voice of the girl called Tessie. She shook herself free from Dagmar, and darted ahead with determination long delayed, and consequently more forceful. For a moment the young girl hesitated. She sort of fondled the little scout badge in her hands, and might have been heard to sigh, if a girl of her severely disciplined temperament ever indulged in anything so weakly human as a sigh. But as the fleeing girl more surely made her tracks to the station, thus leaving the other alone in the night, Dagmar, too, quickened her steps. "Tessie," she called finally. "Tessie, wait. I can't go back now." That was all Tessie wanted. She waited, and when again they took up tangled threads of their adventure it was scarcely possible either would allow any further interruptions to delay them. And Dagmar clutched in her tightly clasped hand the lost scout badge. CHAPTER II WOODLAND THRILLS It was Margaret Slowden who lost the Badge of Merit. The pretty gilt wreath, with its clover leaf center on a dainty white ribbon hanger, had been presented to Margaret on such an auspicious occasion, that the emblem meant much more to the girl scout than its official value of rank indicated. The True Tred Troop of Flosston had been organized one month when Margaret won the medal. Shortly after the holidays, an event of unusual importance occurred in the mill town, when its small company of service boys returned from "Over There." They were royally welcomed by the entire town folks, together with the many officials of the silk industries, from whose ranks the boys had marched away. With the lads returned was Margaret's brother Tom. He was handsome and a Marine, and well might Mrs. Slowden and Margaret take pride in the honor their soldier brought them. On the night of the Great Welcome Home, the scout girls, then newly organized, assisted with ushering and attending to the platform needs of the speakers and honored heroes, each of the latter receiving a special small, gold military cross, the gift of the silk mill magnates. This insignia was presented by the most famous authorities of army and navy available, and Tom Slowden was given the special honor of a real military presentation of the D. S. C., he being the only member of Flosston recruits to receive such a notable tribute. As might have been expected this gave real distinction to the Welcome Home, and Margaret was suffused with pardonable pride. But when she took her place in the check room, to attend to the coats and other belongings of the distinguished visitors--she was forgotten by her troop, and she remained there all during Tom's presentation. She never heard a word of major's wonderful speech, when the people fairly roared for Tom's glory. There she was, downstairs in the dark, lonely cloak room. "Oh, my dear!" deplored Captain Clark. "I never meant that you should stay down here at this time." "But it was my task," returned the melancholy Margaret. "I would not have had you miss your brother's presentation for the world! Such a thing can never come again. Why did you not call some of the girls to relieve you?" "If Tom did anything like that he could never have received the D. S. C., and I am a Scout and pledged to honor commands," returned Margaret nobly. For that sacrifice she received from the same platform, one week later, her own badge of merit, and the occasion was a real rally, with officials from headquarters, and all the neighboring troops participating. Was it strange then that Margaret should lament her loss? No other badge could actually take the place of that one, and while Captain Clark would immediately advise headquarters of the loss, and order a new one, the brave little scout girl would still feel she had lost that one vested with the special presentation honors. On the morning following the loss, the girls of True Tred were seen out on the road so early, the station master, old Pete, hurried to his window, and got ready for business, surmising an excursion or at least a local convention imminent. But no such occurrence was probable, it was only the troop out looking for the badge, and inevitably they did not find it. Signs made by Captain Clark were posted in the station, the post-office, and at prominent corners, but Margaret was disconsolate. She had called her badge the "D. S. C." because of its connection with Tom's insignia, and though the big brother had promised the scout sister all sorts of valuable substitutes, offering her the little hand carved box he had brought for "another girl," and which Margaret had openly coveted, even this did not seem adequate compensation. All day at school the girls of True Tred planned and contrived little favors for their unhappy sister, and it was noticeable those of the classes who usually scoffed at the scouts and their activities, could not well conceal their admiration for the spirit of kindliness displayed. The True Treds had members in the seventh and eighth grammar grades, and the girls' ages ranged from thirteen to fifteen years. Margaret Slowden was fifteen, Cleo Harris fourteen and Grace Philow and Madaline Mower were thirteen. This group was most active in the scout girls' movement, and although the organization was only three months old in Flosston, few there were in the town who had not seen and admired the smart little troopers, in their neat uniforms, always ready to assist in the home or in public at any task consigned to them. It was to be expected they would meet opposition in the way of criticism from such girls as are always indifferent to team play, and the best interests of the largest numbers, but the scouts knew how much they enjoyed their troop, and realized how beneficial was the attractive training they were receiving from its rules and regulations. Grace and Madaline were still in the tenderfoot class, and wore the little brooch at the neck of their blouses. Margaret and Cleo were already in the first class, and permitted to wear the left sleeve badge, while others showed their rank in the Tenderfoot, the first and third class, three patrols of eight members each making up Flosston troop. The real work of the scouts is so interesting in character that the writer has no idea of detracting from it, by relating the detail, feeling the charm and significance is best expressed in a real story of the live girls as they live their characteristic scout life. Nevertheless, it may not be amiss to call attention here to the value of such training given almost in play, and without question in such attractive forms as to make character building through its influence an ideal pastime, a valuable investment, and a complete program, for growing girls, who may emerge from the "bundle of habits" as strong members of society, progressive business women, or nicely trained little helpers for the home, or for the more sheltering conditions in whatever path of life they may be selected to tread. That schools or even homes cannot compete with such training is evident, when one considers that a girl is creative, and should have ample chance to develop her character without force or rigid self defacing, instead of self creating rules; also it must be apparent that guidance is only successful when imposed gently, and with that subtle persuasion, ever aiming to show the result of correct training, and thus affording the principles of freedom for selection, with a knowledge of what that selection will result in. What sensible girl will deliberately choose to go her own careless way, when she realizes that nothing satisfactory can be expected from such a choice, and that the very freedom coveted makes her a slave to the most cruel limits of prospects or attainments? But we will not sermonize; even at this distance we may hold out the strong arm of influence, assuring our readers that the highest aims of writers and publishers are for the advancement of the younger girls, whose minds, for the moment, are entrusted to our keeping. Coming back to our group of Girl Scouts, now holding conclave in the school yard of Flosston grammar grades, we find Grace and Madeline forming themselves into a committee of two, with the avowed intention of getting lip a hiking party for their own special benefit. These younger girls must soon undergo the test necessary for their qualification as second class scouts, and a hike on this lovely spring afternoon would aid them greatly in acquiring the outdoor knowledge necessary. Margaret was rather inclined to dissent when the jaunt was proposed, she did not feel quite as hiky as usual, and she promptly remembered she had promised her mother some assistance in the little kitchen garden both were developing. "Oh, come on," pleaded Grace. "If you say you want to go, I am sure Captain Clark will agree. I know where we can get the loveliest watercress." This lure won Margaret, who had now fully recovered her scout cheer, and was trying bravely to forget the loss of her cherished badge". "Mother loves watercress," she conceded, "and I would go, if we are sure to be back by five. I have to go call for the mail before dark." "Oh, goody-good!" sang out Grace. "Now I can surely get my nature work all nicely covered. I'll tell Madaline. She is over there coaxing Cleo," and with a risky flourish of her red tie, a hop, skip and a jump, the Tenderfoot pranced across the big green schoolyard, in a fashion that belied her limitations on the tenderfoot basis. "Yes, I'll go," Cleo was agreeing, "but I am afraid we can't get Captain Clark. I know she is going out to Kingsley to form a troop. Maybe we can get Lieutenant Lindsley. She is free from Normal at four. They have a lecture after two-thirty almost every day." "Oh, Lieutenant Lindsley would be lots of fun. She knows everything in hill and dale, and is not afraid of snakes or cows. But do you think we should notify the other girls? It is rather hard to get in touch with them in time," Grace ranted on. By this time Margaret and Madaline had joined the group, and now all the scouts in seventh and eighth grammar grades were discussing plans for the precipitous hike. There were Mable Blake, also a tenderfoot, Adaline Allen and Mildred Clark, second grades, and the McKay twins, first class scouts. All of these willingly agreed to make the foot trip out to the Falls. The afternoon school session received scant attention from the prospective hikers, the Tenderfoots especially being absorbed in the prospects of a spring afternoon in the woods. So interested were Grace and Madaline they exchanged preparatory notes in the five minute rest period, although that time was set aside for real relaxation, and no one was supposed to use eyes or fingers during the short rest. When school was finally dismissed the girls arranged to pass the homes of most of the group, as many of them lived on the same Oakley Avenue, and thus notify parents of their scout plans for the hike, and when Lieutenant Lindsley was eventually picked up from the practicing department of the Normal School, the ranks were filled, and the hike moved off towards the River Road. It was a glorious afternoon, in late April. The peach blossoms were just breaking into pink puff balls, and the pear trees were burdened with a crop of spring "snow," fragrant in their whitest of dainty blossoms. But the still life beauties were not more attractive than the joyous, happy, romping girls, who capered along from the more noisy town streets, into the highways and byways of the long green stretch of country leading to the river brink, and to the woods on its border. "I'm going to do something really great," declared Grace. "I don't care just what it is, but I want to have a real record, when I am called up to take my degree test. I am not afraid of anything in daylight, so beware! I may do something very desperate and rash this afternoon." "Spare us," pleaded Madaline. "I have seen some of our courage worked out in the woods before. Remember the time you nearly set fire to the river? Well, don't, please, go try anything like that today." "No, it must be something for which I should receive a badge of courage, if I were in the first class. I want to blush with fitting modesty when Captain Clark invests me with the next degree, and I shall only blush when reminded of my noble deed this afternoon." "Since you are not particular about what deed shall be the noble one, won't you just give me a hand, and help me save this heel of mine from a blistering shoe? The shoe was all right in school, but just now it has picked up a snag, somehow, and between the shoe and the snag, my life is not worth living." "Poor Madie," soothed her chum. "Let us sit right down here and diagnose the case. I'm first rate at diagnosing anything but why my bureau can't stay fixed. It has chronic upsettedness, and all my operations are of no avail. There go the girls down into the hazel nut gully. Let's sit on this lovely mossy couch, and look after the heel. Doesn't moss grow beautifully smooth under the cedars? I wonder how it ever gets so velvety?" At the twined and natural woven seat, wrought from the uncovered roots of a great hemlock, the girls caressed and patted the velvet moss that formed a veritable carpet--no--it was softer than carpet, a silken velvet throw, over a natural cedar divan. Even the suffering heel was forgotten, in the joy of nature study, in green, with the darker green canopy of cedars, and the music of a running river at the foot of the sloping hill. Here the scent of watercress vied with the hemlock and cedar, for its place as nature's perfume, and only such mingling of wild ferns, trailing arbutus, budding bush, and leafing vine, could produce the aroma of incense that just then permeated the woody glen. "Don't let the girls get too far away from us," cautioned Madeline. "I wouldn't like to get really lost, even for the joke of having you find me, Gracie." "But you would do a little thing like that to help me out on my personal bravery stunt?" teased her companion. "I wonder why only the first class girls are permitted to do all those wonderful things and get all the really high honors?" "Because they have gone through all the necessary trials and examinations," replied Madaline sagely. "You and I can get credit for our deeds, but we must show our full records to get the highest B. C. That's fair. You can't make a major out of a private. He has got to go up by degrees." "Well, maybe it is fair, but I just love the glory of presentations. I am so sorry for Margaret. I would have dug up the town today to find that Merit Badge she lost last night." "I like the way she braved it out, though," added Madaline. "She felt badly enough, and it did mean so much to her," finished the sympathetic scout. "Oh, yes, I suppose so," rather reluctantly agreed the ambitious Grace. "But I shouldn't relish the feeling that some grimy mill girl was wearing the badge in a smoky factory." "Oh, Grace, shame! That's not scouty. You must not speak so of the mill girls. We hope to take some of them in our troop before long. We would have no right to public support if we did not do something definite for others, and the mill girls have so few chances. So don't, Gracie dear, ever speak like that again." "I won't if you say so, also if it isn't scouty. I am out to win the goal, and I don't mind what I may have to do to get my scout good conduct ball into the official basket. Now, how's the heel? Did the little pad of soft leaves help to keep the pressure off?" "Yes, that was a fine idea, and I shall see to it that some day, when original work is called for, you get credit for the nature-aid heel pad. Rather a clumsy title, but when we explain how easy it is to get soft leaves to make pads for suffering feet, I am sure it will be welcome news to many an ambitious hiker." "Oh, Madie dear," suddenly exclaimed Grace. "Where are the girls gone? They are not in the hazel nut clump, and I can't hear a sound!" "Oh, my! Suppose they have gone looking for us the other way?" Both girls in alarm, now scurried through the woods, calling and giving the "Coo-ee" call, but not a sound answered them. Birds were flitting about from limb to branch, and the strange stillness of the woods frightened the little Tenderfoots. "You go along the bank, and I'll scour the elderberry patch. This wood is so dense in spots, and so clear under the hemlocks, it is easy to lose and hard to find anyone in it," declared Grace. "I'm glad I brought my big rope. I intended to tie every knot in the course, and cut them all out to fetch back finished, and I haven't even unwound the rope." "If there is anything easier than getting lost in the woods it must be getting caught at whispering in the eighth grade," grumbled Madaline. "I wish my old heel had behaved itself." "And all the plans for my brave stunt gone to naught," put in the now breathless Grace. "I would never have made up the hike if I had not determined to get a glory mark out of it. Now see where we are! Miles from home, and darkness coming on at each end. Where could those girls have gone to?" "Sure as shooting they have gone on searching for us. There's the reservoir road, going in the opposite direction, and also Chestnut Hill. To go either of those roads meant getting entirely away from the foolish little scouts who stopped to chatter and chin. Just shows what we can do when we don't know we shouldn't." For some moments they brushed their way through the thicket, beating down briars with their stout sticks, then coming to a broad clearance they found themselves in a great grove of pines, clean as a floor, except for the layer of savory pine needles, and almost dark as night from the density of the pine canopies. "My, how lovely!" exclaimed Grace. "Yes, if we could only enjoy it," demurred Madaline. "Grace! What's that? Over under that thick tree!" "A man! Let's run!" "And there is a big bag beside him," whispered Grace. "See the things sticking out of it!" "No, I don't want to see anything. Run, I tell you!" "Wait! Maybe I could make this my bravery act. Suppose I tie him with my strong rope?" "Grace Philow! Are you crazy?" and the more frightened girl attempted to drag the other away. "Please--don't speak loud. If he wakes I shall die." "No, don't you dare! Just keep still. I am going to see if I can tie up one town tramp. There are plenty loose, and this is my golden opportunity!" CHAPTER III A NOBLE DEED UNDONE "Now Grace! If you attempt to go near that dreadful man I shall scream and wake him up," threatened Madaline, in real alarm. "No, you won't either. You would be afraid to. Hush, keep still. I want to see if I can lasso his old bag. Wouldn't it be fine if I could rescue Mrs. Johnston's washing? You know it was stolen off her line two nights ago." With this the daring girl stole up more closely to the sleeping figure. The quiet lull of the flowing river, as it fell over a little cascade, was acting as a potential lullaby to the wayfarer at the foot of the tree. His figure was grotesque, but at the distance the girls were viewing him from it was not possible to discern more than a figure--it might be that of almost any sort of a man, for all they could tell. Grace untied her nice clean coil of rope, while Madaline besought her in every kind of cabalistic sign she could summon to her aid, to desist in her reckless intention of tieing the man to the tree. But the temptation was evidently too much for the frolicsome Grace, for as Madaline cast a wild eye over her shoulder in her flight from the spot, she could just see Grace, tip-toeing up to that figure. A few seconds later came a stifled cry! "Wait, oh, Madie, wait!" called Grace, and, stopping in the briar path, Madaline glimpsed the imperturbable Grace, making her way through the thicket and dragging something heavy behind her! "Mercy me!"' exclaimed Madaline. "What can she be tugging along!" "Wait, help me!" now called Grace in a bolder voice. "No, I will not! Grace Philow, are you crazy?" gasped Madaline. "Crazy, not at all," sang out Grace in a laughing voice. "I've got it!" "Got what?" Madaline cried anxiously. "Mrs. Johnston's wash!" "Oh, Grace, you will get us both arrested." "For recovering stolen property! You have a fine sense of scout laws," Grace retorted. "If you don't help me get out of the briars I shall report you to the captain--if we ever find her," and another laugh grated on the frightened ears of Madaline. "I can't help you, Grace," Madaline replied in a more conciliatory tone. "The briars are so thick here, they almost tore off my shoe--it is not laced tight, you know." "Well, they are tearing up Mrs. Johnston's wash," admitted Grace, still tagging at the trailing bag, that could not be seen in the thicket and brambles she dragged it over. "Oh, Grace! There he comes!" screamed Madaline, as a moving figure could be outlined in the shadows of the low brush, and tall swamp berry trees, that just towered high enough to hide the form that bent and broke the impeding young birches. It was the swish and motion of the brush that indicated his advance and location. "Mercy!" yelled Grace, alarmed now in spite of her boasted courage. "Let's run. But I won't drop this wash. I don't care if he follows me into the post-office for it," and at that, she gave the rope one more terrific jerk, the force of which brought the trailing obstacle out into the path where it had a clear track to follow the girl, who held madly to the other end of the rope. No words were wasted as the girls scampered and scurried through that wood. Grace held firmly to the rope, and could feel that it still dragged her quarry, while Madaline never turned her head to see whether or not the pursuing man was at their heels. That they had not been struck down was enough, to be thankful for, thought Madaline. And in all of this, no trace of the other members of the hiking party was discovered. More than once the girls heard something they decided ought to be their "Coo-ee" call, but each time it turned out to be nothing more friendly than the astonished birds, either laughing at the scouts, or rooting for their successful escape from the pursuer. Beaching the big rock that covered the path, and always had to be climbed over "by hand," the girls scrambled up, then down, and when Grace gave a necessarily vigorous tug at her rope it sprang up to her face in a real caress! In fact it actually coiled around her like a friendly thing. Mrs. Johnston's wash was gone! "Oh, he grabbed it!" wailed Grace. "He got hold of my rope when we had to stop to make the rock and now--he has got it again!" "Don't you dare stop one minute!" panted Madaline. "You have almost murdered us as it is," she proclaimed in her excitement, which always banished her ordinarily sparse supply of reasonable language. "Nice way you help a sister," mocked Grace. "I thought you were going to help me win honors," and she gathered up her delinquent rope with a much disturbed expression on her pretty face. "I think I have helped you save your life, if you only knew it," Madaline managed to articulate. "The idea--" "All the same I did tie him up," admitted Grace, bolder now that she could see the end of the woods. "I don't see how he got loose. I used the running bow-line, and a couple of clove hitches. Our old knots came in useful, but they didn't hold evidently. Hark! Wasn't that a whistle! Sounded like Margaret's trill." "Yes, and it's away over on the Avenue. Whatever will Captain Clark say?" "Now, Madie, you just promise you will say nothing about my man and Mrs. Johnston's wash. I tried to do something noble and it didn't pan out, so if you are a good little pal, and a first rate sport, you will keep mam as a clam, won't you, please, Madie?" "Well, since it did not end in a tragedy I suppose I may keep quiet without breaking honor, but you know, Gracie, I am six months older than you, and I would be held accountable at a trial." "Don't you fret," and Grace was now shaking her curly head and throwing her blazing cheeks up to the clearance light, with, renewed defiance. "I certainly had a lovely time while it lasted." "There are the girls!" exclaimed Madaline joyously. "It would have been dreadful if they were obliged to go all the way into Flosston without us. They would have come back with the mill bell man looking for us." "Whoo-hoo!! Coo-ee, Coo-ee!!" trilled Grace, and back came the welcome answer. "Coo-ee! Coo-ee! Whoo-hoo!" Realizing the lost was found, Lieutenant Lindsley stood on top of the little hill, just over the turn of the macadam road, that outlined Oakley Avenue, the one street of distinction that ran through the country and gave tone to little Flosston on its way. She was an attractive figure standing there in her plain serge suit, and soft tam-o'-shanter on her finely poised head, and even at a distance one would be correct in describing Romaine Lindsley as an attractive, fine-looking young girl. Around her were the other members of the hiking party, all of whom had come to an abrupt halt, at the call of Grace and Madaline from the woodlands. "Don't run to meet them," cautioned the lieutenant, "that might mean another mixup," and she gave a double quick trill to notify the delinquents they were expected to report promptly. "After all there appears to be no harm done, other than the loss of an afternoon's sport." "But I did not get my watercress," wailed Winnie, the blonde of the McKay twins. "And I lost a perfectly good side comb mother just received from Philadelphia," complained Cleo. "I wanted this kind and could not get them around here. Now one is lost and the other useless." "But we must not complain, Cleo," admonished the lieutenant pleasantly. "It isn't good scouting, you know." By this time the runaways, or lost sheep, had caught up with the awaiting contingent. That they would be deluged with questions, and all but stampeded for answers, was to be expected. "It was an accident," Grace managed to inject finally. "Madie's foot went blistered--and I hunted around for some--some medicated leaves," this was said in an apologetic tone, "and when the heel was all fixed we were thoroughly lost." Madaline sighed and smiled alternately, and agreed without venturing to say so. "Well, we are glad you met with no mishap," declared the lieutenant, to whom girls lost in the woods was not a new adventure. "We were going back for you just now. The trouble was we took the left road to look for you, when, of course, you were hugging due right. Didn't you see our trail?" "Yes, after we struck it," responded spokes-man Grace. "We were so deep in the cedar grove we had no chance to strike trails. Oh, girls, you should see the wonderful picnic grounds we discovered!" she enthused, with the very evident intention of getting Madaline's mind off the man and the bag of wash. "It is a perfect little park, all carpeted with pine needles, and canopied with the loveliest trees--" "All right, Grace," cut in the lieutenant. "But come along. We must be making tracks. No time just now for a panoramic view. We will certainly have to take this hike all over again to compensate the girls for their disappointment. However, no doubt we have learned something." "You bet," Grace whispered to Madaline, as she fell into step for the homeward march. "I learned that the bow-line will slip." "Hush," begged Madaline. "I am not sure yet but that--you know--may be after us." "Wish it--you know, was," defied the other. "What ever were you two up to?" asked Margaret, falling back to take step with the refugees. "I am sure you were never fixing a single foot all that time." "We each had feet, you know," Grace quickly made answer. "And really there are the most interesting things in that wood. I am going back first chance--" "You do!" threatened Madaline, with a glance Grace rightfully interpreted. "I will never, as long as I live, go into the Cedar grove again. It's too scary for words." "I loved it," drawled Grace. "I am going again. See if I don't. Want to come, Maggie?" "Maybe, but just now I want an alibi for mother's promised watercress. Grace, you are a great scout! You lure us all out here, with the most tempting offer of prize watercress, and here we go home with a bunch of last year's cattails. What shall we say to all our loved mothers, who allowed us to cut house work for this wonderful afternoon?" asked Margaret. "Say that I, Grace Gollivar Philow, will go back first chance I get, and fetch watercress for the whole community. Only next time I go, I am going to fetch a gun--" Margaret laughed, but Madaline shivered. Scout girls were supposed to know how to use a gun, but fortunately Grace was still in the Tenderfoot class. Perhaps before she could possibly get permission to try gunning, she would have outgrown her tendency to capture tramps with ostensibly stolen washes. Madaline sincerely hoped so. When almost in town Grace gained an opportunity to whisper to Madaline: "Now remember, Madie. Never a word. I am not sure my man got away, you know. He may be tied up there yet. And also, I may get someone to go with me and reclaim Mrs. Johnston's wash. I know about where it broke loose." CHAPTER IV PATHS DIVIDING But the happenings in the woods were quickly forgotten, at least so far as the scout girls were concerned, by the unexpected development in the case of the two girls, Dagmar and Tessie, who had stolen out of Flosston. In that section of the town where the girls lived, the Americanized foreigners had little in common with such families as those of the girls of True Tred Troop. In fact, few happenings in the mill community ever reached the ears of the so-called "swells," that inappropriate term being applied to those whose fathers held some executive position in the great silk industries of Flosston. Thus it was easy to understand why the scouts had heard nothing next day of the mysterious disappearance of Dagmar and Tessie. A contrary situation existed in Millville, however. Here the families of both girls were causing a search to be made in that peculiar fashion of confusion and excitement, usually ending in making the condition more complicated, and giving rise to absolutely no clues worthy of attention. Mrs. Brodix, Dagmar's mother, good, kind mother that she was, spent her time wringing her hands and rolling her big black eyes, otherwise in extolling the hitherto undiscovered virtues of the lost daughter. In her distress she forsook the English tongue, and lapsed into a conglomeration of Polish and Yiddish made intelligible only through the plentiful interpretation of dramatic gesticulation. "Oh, my beautiful Dagmar!" she wailed. "It is that vile street runner Theresa, who has carried her away!" was the burden of her lamentations. "The smartest girl in all Millville was my Tessie," insisted Mrs. Wartliz. "It was that baby-faced kitten, Dagmar Brodix, who coaxed her off. She would earn as much money as me" (good enough English for Mrs. Wartliz), "and she had money in the bank, too." It was probably this last fact that really led the girls to seek what they considered was a broader field for their talent. If Tessie's money in the bank had been a joint account with her mother's name, she would not have been able to draw out the funds for her escapade, but what did Mrs. Wartliz know about such supervision for a daughter, who was absorbing America at one end--the attractions--and ignoring America at the other--honorable conduct? What actually happened was this. When Dagmar ran after Tessie, who was threatening to leave her to her own resources, that dark night when both had planned to shake the dust of Millville from their well worn shoes, the older girl finally agreed to take Dagmar along if "she would quit her babying, and act decent." "Now the train is gone," scolded Tessie, "and we have to take that horrid old jitney out to the junction. Like as not we will meet some one who will squeal on us." "Tessie," pleaded Dagmar, afraid to speak, and fearful of the consequences if she did not make her appeal. "Why can't we go to Franklin? There is a fine mill there and it is nearer home--" "Say kid" exclaimed the rougher girl, "if you want to go home you have a swell chance right now, but if you want to come with me quit simping and come," and she picked up her own bag in bad temper, gave her brilliant scarf a twist and started off for the jitney, leaving Dagmar to take the unattractive choice she had just mentioned. Dagmar was too frightened to notice the grimy mill hands who were crowded into the old bus, making their way to another settlement in search of an evening's recreation, but Tessie slunk deep down in her corner, burying her face in her scarf and hiding her eyes with her tam. She knew better than to run the risk of having her cross father discover her in flight. After she had succeeded in getting away Lonzo Wartliz would not spend time to go after her, but while she was "on the wing," so to speak, he would have no trouble in bringing her back. A day's time from the mill would be too costly a sacrifice to make, while a police call to "fetch back my girl" would cost him nothing. Also there was the thought that Tessie might fix it at home by sending a letter filled with glowing promises of good money--but she would require at least one day to mail her promise to Flosston. So Dagmar sat with a melancholy expression on her face while Tessie hid her silent chuckles in her wearing apparel. "Here we are," whispered the latter, as the jitney jolted to a standstill. "Don't forget your Saratoga." Dagmar dragged the hated "telescope" after her, as she dropped down from the rickety high steps of the old motor wagon. It was very dark now, and she was more frightened than she had any idea of betraying to her companion. "Come on, kid," called the other. "We have got to hunt up something. We may not get out of this great white way to-night." "Oh, Tessie! How could we stay in a place like this?" "Just like the other folks. Do you think they are goin' to spread out a wedding canopy for you? Oh, be a sport, Daggie. Tomorrow is yet to come." The training this young girl had received in the local movies was now developing in a rather dangerous way. She was breathing heavily in her new found adventure, she was out alone, or as good as alone, in a strange place on a dark night, and perhaps she would be kidnapped? In spite of the danger Tessie fairly thrilled with the possibility, and it was with a very pronounced degree of scorn that she regarded her weaker companion. Not that the "movies" were exerting any better influence on Dagmar. In fact it had been their uncertain propaganda that first created in her breast the feeling of unrest, that first told her Millville was mean, shabby, and an unfit place for an ambitious girl to try to exist in. Her very love for her mother and father, to say nothing of her affection for the other members of her family, seemed a spur to her ambition "to get away and be somebody." But the getting away was by no means the pleasant dream she had pictured it. Here they were, two young, inexperienced girls in a strange town, without the slightest knowledge of how they might find a safe place in which to stay for a single night, and even they, with their minds open for adventure, realized how promptly trouble comes to those who openly seek it. "Let's go down this street and see what it runs into," suggested Tessie. "Hope it doesn't flop off into a ditch." "I think we ought to ask someone," put in Dagmar. "Ask them what?" rudely demanded Tessie. "Where we can go for the night? Are you sure we can't get a train? We could sleep in the cars." "Oh, say, you want a Pullman, you do, the kind we see go by the factory with the coons all dolled up in dish towels," she sneered, now seemingly set upon making things as unpleasant as possible for poor, little, frightened Dagmar. But the latter was not altogether a coward, and the blustering tone of Tessie was not too deep to penetrate. Dagmar pulled herself together and dropped the "telescope." "You may do as you please, Miss Wartliz," she exclaimed. "But I am not going to tramp these streets all night. I don't want to end up in a nice little rat-ridden police cell. We don't have rats over our way." "And I suppose we do. Well, Miss Smarty, what do you propose to do? Maybe you wouldn't mind letting your friend in on the game!" "You know, Tessie, I don't mind slang, and I am not a goody-good, but I am nervous, and I think we would get along better if we both dropped that street stuff. It gets on my nerves." "Oh, my sakes alive! Gettin' nerves!" and she dropped her voice into the deepest tones of contempt. "I might-a known it. You would be apt to have them with that face. Well, kid, what do you want to do? I don't see no hospital for nerves out this way." "Tessie! See that man!" "Sure I do. He's a cop, too. Stop your whimpering and trot along. We're goin' to grandma's," and Tessie grabbed the arm of the trembling Dagmar as she started off with a determined step, indicating a particular objective being sought for. But the officer of the law could distinguish runaway girls without a full confession from their painted lips. And he promptly started after them. "He's followin' us," whispered Dagmar. "As if I thought he was playin' hop-scotch," scoffed the tantalizing one. "Keep movin', we will give his legs a treat, even if he intends to beat us out." And they did walk very briskly indeed--all the more reason why the officer should follow them! "Makes me think of tryin' to get away from a strange dog," Tessie had the temerity to interject. "The faster we ran the surer he is to keep snappin'." "He is sure to catch us," Dagmar said. "Why don't you stop and ask him where we can go?" "You poor simp. Want him to tell you?" and she almost laughed outright. "Wait--a minute--wait--a minute!" came the summons. "What's your big hurry?" They both stopped. Each knew enough for that. The man of the law, shaking that treacherous stick on its red cord, was now beside them. He pushed his cap back to make sure nothing interfered with his gaze. This he fixed scrutinizingly on the two girls. Dagmar flinched, but Tessie smiled in a foolish attempt to gain his good will. "Where are you two trottin' off to all alone?" he asked finally. "We're goin' to grandma's," said Tessie, so ridiculously that she almost burst out laughing. She had no idea the answer would sound so silly. "Oh! you be," he returned, his voice thick with irony. "Is the old lady expectin' you?" "Well, we didn't say we would be there tonight," Tessie had the audacity to reply. "No, I thought not," and he twirled that formidable stick almost into Dagmar's scared face. "Well, shall we send her word?" "Oh, we can find our way," put in Tessie again, attempting to start off. "Maybe so. But here in Franklin we have a curfew law, and we don't allow little girls out alone so late." "No?" sneered Tessie. "Lovely town. We expect to take the rest cure here." "Now, my young lady," in severe tones, "I'll show you where we give that self same cure. Come--along--with--me!" Quick as a wink Tessie grabbed her bag, and started to run. The officer was so surprised he required a moment to realize she was running away. When he did he sounded his whistle. And there stood Dagmar, alone, and as the "movies" say, "Forsaken!" "Oh, Tessie," she called weakly. "Come back. You have my pocketbook!" But the fleeing girl did not stop to listen to Dagmar's cry or to the shrill whistle the officer again sent out into the night. She was making tracks so successfully, the minion of the law knew very well his whistle would never summon help--the only other officer in town being "out of town" to his personal knowledge. So Tessie went, and with her Dagmar's pocketbook and the Girl Scout Badge! CHAPTER V A FRIENDLY ENEMY "Now, don't you worry, little girl. You are not like that one running away. I can see that by your manner," said the officer kindly, as Dagmar pressed her handkerchief to her wet eyes. "I don't have to take you to the calaboose, unless I set fit, and I don't." He touched her arm kindly. Jim Cosgrove hated to see anyone cry, and his kind heart never seemed to interfere with the fulfillment of his duty. When he was kind he had reason to be, and never yet had the higher officials questioned his wisdom. "Oh, thank you," said Dagmar, when she could find the words. "We haven't done anything wrong." "Well, it isn't exactly right for young girls to run away from home, and I don't have to wait for all the particulars to decide that is what you are both aiming to do. However, let us go along. My wife doesn't mind takin' a girl in now and then, to save her name from the records." Dagmar breathed easier. She might even find a place to sleep! Why hadn't Tessie waited? In spite of the rather unpleasant situation, there was comfort in the thought she would not have to go to some dreadful hotel, or boarding house, and perhaps undergo all the hardships dealt out to runaways in the "pictures." So Dagmar walked along with the officer, unmindful of the sharp looks of the few passersby who happened to be out in that section of the rather quiet town. "Of course you will go straight back home in the morning?" asked and answered the officer. "Oh, I did so want to try something else," almost pleaded the girl. "You see, mister, it is awful in the mill end of Flosston." "Not very good, I'll admit," replied he, "but it will be my duty to send you back." They walked along in silence after that brief conversation. Dagmar was thinking how difficult it would be to go back home on the morrow, and in the company of an officer! As if the man divined her thoughts, he said presently: "We will see how we make out when we get to my house. My old woman is as good a help to me as the other man on the post, and better. She helps me a lot with the girls, and I often say she should have had a uniform. Maybe we can fix it so she will take you back home." "Oh, that would be better," replied Dagmar. "I would hate to go with a man." "Course you would and I don't blame you. But I must hurry and put you up with Mary. If I don't find your pal I will have to give the word to the next town. Can't have a girl like that running around loose all night." "I wish she had stayed. Tessie is--not really wild, but she has so much freedom at home. All her folks seem to care for about her is her money." "Lots of folks are foolish as that, then they have to spend a good lot to make up for getting a little. And the funny part of it is, the girls, who seem so wise, are the easiest fooled. Now, she acted like a real grown-up, but I'll bet my badge she would go along with the first person who offered her a hot pancake for breakfast. They have so much nerve it dries up all their common sense." "I do wish she had not run away. She is always making fun of me and calling me a baby. But I think, as you say, mister, it is better not to have too much nerve." "You're right, girl. But here we are. Don't you be the least bit afraid of my wife. She is big and blustery, but has a heart of gold." The rugged outside of this man evidently hid a heart of his own not far from pure gold, and Dagmar could not help thinking he was the nicest policeman she had ever heard of, and that she had encountered him seemed nothing short of wonderfully good luck. Turning in at the gate, which even in the night could be seen to form a little arch in vines and bushes, Officer Cosgrove tapped lightly on the door, which was opened before the echo of his last tap had died away. "Here we are, Mary," he announced to the woman standing in the portal. "I just brought you a little girl--who--is lost. Take care of her while I go after the--other. She didn't take so kindly to Jim as this one did," and with a friendly little push, he ushered Dagmar into the narrow hall, and turned out into the roadway, from whence his light footfall could immediately be heard hurrying over the cinder-covered path. "Come in, girl," ordered Mrs. Cosgrove. "What happened to you?" Dagmar was bewildered. What had happened to her? What should she answer! "I am--away--from home," she managed to reply. "The officer said I could go back tomorrow." The inadequacy of her reply sounded foolish even to Dagmar, but she was constrained to feel her way. She could never blurt out the fact that she had actually run away from home! "Oh, I see," said Mrs. Cosgrove with a tone of uncertainty. "Run away, eh?" "Yes'm," said Dagmar defencelessly. "Too bad. Didn't your folks treat you right?" "Oh, yes," hurried Dagmar to correct any such impression as that question conveyed. "But I wanted to help them--all, and I thought I--could!" Tears were running over now, and Dagmar's courage was at lowest ebb. The motherly woman took the ever-present "telescope," and setting it down in a corner of the pleasant room, directed Dagmar to a chair near the little stove, in which a small light glowed, quite suitably opposed to the chill of early spring. "Just sit down and I'll get you a bite. Of course you are hungry." "Not very," gulped the girl, who had not tasted food since she snapped the cover on her lunch box that eventful noon day, when the girl, having agreed with Tessie to leave Milltown, had eaten the dark bread and bologna, for what she supposed would be the last time. So Dagmar was hungry, although her emotion for the time was choking her, and hiding the pangs of actual hunger. "All the same tea tastes good when we use up nerves," insisted the woman, leaving the room, and presently clicking dishes and utensils in the kitchen. Left alone for a moment Dagmar recovered her composure and glanced about the room. It seemed almost fragrant in its clean freshness. She had never occupied such a room, with that peculiar, bracing atmosphere. The small mantel with its prim vases looked a veritable home shrine, and the center table with the sprigs of budding lilacs, seemed to the forlorn girl something to reverence. The rag rugs under her feet were so spotless, the curtains so white--it suddenly occurred to the girl these things could not exist in the smoke and grim of a mill town. It was the mill--always the mill found to blame for her misery. "Come on, girl--what is your name?" came a voice from the kitchen. Dagmar responded and took her place at the table with its white oilcloth cover, and a snowy napkin neatly smoothed under the one plate set for her. "Molly has gone to Flosston to a Girl Scout meeting," announced Mrs. Cosgrove, helping Dagmar to a dish of home-made pork and beans. "She loves the Scout affairs, and wouldn't miss a rally, even if she has to come home a little late. Martin, that's my boy, will meet her at the jitney." "Gone to Flosston?" repeated Dagmar. "That's where I came from--that is the corner we call Milltown, it is out where the factories are." "Oh, I know the town well. Not too nice in spots. But start right in. Drink your tea and eat up your bread and jelly. I'll finish what I was at, and be back by the time you have cleaned your plate." Dagmar realized this action was taken out of sheer delicacy. And she was very thankful to be left alone with her food. After all it was not so bad to be arrested, if all jail sentences were served in such nice clean kitchens, thought the girl. But the reflection of a girl scout meeting at Flosston, and the stinging memory of the honor badge, picked up that night and carried off by the reckless Tessie, would torture her in spite of the more important issues in the girl's experience. Where would Tessie go? Where would she stay and what would become of her? No doubt, as the officer had remarked, such a girl would easily become the prey of the unscrupulous, and at this thought Dagmar shuddered. What dreadful things always happen to runaway girls in the movies? Again the standard asserted its power. Next moment the opening door announced Mrs. Cosgrove was back, and Dagmar had "cleaned her plate." "There now, you will feel better," and the woman quickly gathered up the tea dishes. "Come in the other room, and tell me your story before Jim comes back; sometimes a woman can help a girl more than a man can, and, as Jim says, I am sort of a wedge between the law and the victim," and she laughed lightly at the idea of interfering with her husband's business. Dagmar told her story. She did not spare herself or attempt to cover her mistakes. She had left home because she was tired of Milltown and because she thought she would be better able to help her folks by getting out of the factory. Yes, she had listened to Tessie, and Tessie was different. Her mother allowed her out late nights, and had no objections to her going to dances in the factory hall, without brother or father. When Dagmar went her brother Frank always accompanied her. "Well, that's encouraging," spoke Mrs. Cosgrove when Dagmar paused. "When folks have that much sense you can always talk to them. Now, when Molly comes we will talk it over with her. I wouldn't mind leaving off my work to-morrow, although I did plan to clean the cellar, and I could go out and see your mother--that is, if Molly thought there would be a chance for work for you here, and perhaps we could fix it so you could stay for a while anyway. I don't believe it would do you good to go right back in that crowd again. What you need is new chums." "Oh, I couldn't give you all that trouble," objected Dagmar. "I am willing to go right back in the morning." "It's right you should say so," continued the wise woman, "but you see, my girl, when you go back, you get right in the same rut again, and all those mill girls would just make life miserable for you. I am not encouraging you to stay away from home, but as Molly says, she is a leader in the scout girls you know--she always says when a thing goes wrong in one place it is best to try it in another. That is if the thing must be done, and, of course, you must work. However, wait until Molly comes in. She has learned so much since she has tried to teach others that I do believe she knows more than I do." "You say she is a scout lieutenant?" "Yes, they only take girls eighteen or over for that office and my Molly was eighteen two days before she was elected," and at the thought Mrs. Cosgrove indulged in a satisfactory chuckle. It was all very bewildering to Dagmar, but just how it happened that she did not return to Flosston immediately was due to a very interesting plan made by Molly and co-operated in by her official father, and finally worked out by the near-official mother. CHAPTER VI A NOVEL JAIL Thus it was that the girl scouts of Flosston and Lieutenant Molly Cosgrove of Franklin stumbled over the same case of a sister in need. Returning from the big rally at the County Headquarters on that eventful evening, Molly Cosgrove found more than her usual hot cup of tea awaiting her. There was the strange young girl with the wonderful blue eyes, around which a telltale pink rim outlined the long silky lashes. Molly thought she had never seen a prettier girl, while in turn Dagmar decided Molly Cosgrove was the very biggest, dearest, noblest girl she had ever seen. Formalities over, talk of the rally quickly put the stranger at ease. "We had a wonderful rally," Molly enthused, "and at a business meeting held before the open session, it was decided to start obtaining recruits from the mills." "Oh, that will be splendid!" exclaimed Dagmar, who now felt quite at home with the Cosgroves. "We have always wanted to know about those girl scouts." "Well, you will soon have an opportunity," continued the girl, whose cheeks still glowed with rally excitement, "and I am a member of the committee appointed to visit the mills." "That is just the thing," declared Mrs. Cosgrove, "for your boss always lets you follow the Troop orders, and by going into Flosston you may fix it for this scared little girl to stay here for a while." "There, Mother, I always said you should be on the pay-roll. Isn't she the loveliest cop?" Molly asked Dagmar. "No wonder the Town Council thanked Mrs. Jim Cosgrove for her work among the women and girls! Why, Mom, you are a born welfare worker, and could easily have my position in the Mill. You see, I am what they call a welfare worker," again Molly addressed Dagmar directly. "Oh, yes, I know. We have one in the Fluffdown Mill. Her name is Miss Mathews but she hardly ever comes in our room," offered Dagmar. "Well, now Molly," said Mrs. Cosgrove very decidedly, "I just mentioned we might see that the girl got work in new surroundings, with you and me to keep an eye on her, so she could cut away from that crowd. What I have been able to find out is not much to its credit and there's reasons (with a look that pointed at Dagmar's beauty) why a girl like this should not run wild. It seems to me," smoothing out her big apron, by way of punctuation, "that it has all happened for the best. We can fix it so Pop won't make it an arrest after all, then you can get leave to go to Flosston first thing in the morning, can't you?" "Oh, yes, the welfare work of all the big mills is co-related," replied the daughter, while the mother put her feet on the little velvet hassock, and seemed glad of the chance to draw her breath after the long speech. Dagmar was sitting in one of the narrow arm chairs of the old-fashioned parlor suite. Her long, rather shapely hands traced the lines and cross-bars in her plaid skirt, and the sudden shifting of her gaze, from one speaker to the other, betrayed the nervousness she was laboring under. "All right then, that's one more thing settled. And do you think the girl--say, girl, I don't like that name you have, what else can we call you?" she broke off suddenly with this question to Dagmar. "My name is Dagmar Bosika, and I like Bosika best," replied the little stranger. "All right, that's number three settled. You will be Bose. I can say that, but I never could think of the other queer foreign name." "And we will have to change your last name, too, I guess," put in Molly, "as some one from Flosston might recognize it. We can just leave off the first syllable and have it Rose Dix or Dixon. I think Dixon would sound best." "We are settling quite a few points," laughed Mrs. Cosgrove, "if some one doesn't upset them. I have no fears from Pop--" "Oh, Pop is putty in our hands," went on the resourceful Molly, "no danger from his end. But how about your folks, Rose?" Dagmar smiled before she replied. The new name struck on her ear a little oddly, but it pleased her, she had never liked Dagmar, and utterly despised the mill girls' nickname "Daggie." "Mother and father have always said they would let me do what I thought would be best for me," she said at length. "I never did anything they told me I should not, and we often talked of my getting in a store or something like that. Mother works in the mill in another room, and she was always worried about me being away from her." "A store would be no good for you," objected Mrs. Cosgrove, again including the girl's beauty in her scrutiny. "You would be best off within the reach of a welfare worker like Molly. But look at the time! Martin will be in from the club, and even Dad will be comin' around for his midnight coffee, before we call this meetin' to a halt. I say, Molly, we are runnin' an opposition scout meetin' it seems to me," and she got up with that finality, which plainly puts the period to all conversation. A few moments later Rose had washed face and hands, brushed her hair, as Molly kindly hinted she should, and taking her shabby, washed, but unironed, night dress from the famous "telescope," she said her prayers and was ready for bed. How comfortable the room seemed! How strange she should be in it? And where was the unfortunate, headstrong Tessie? A prayer for the safety of the wandering one sprung from the heart of this other girl, now away from home the very first night in her young life. That her mother would believe her at a girl's home, according to the little note left stuck in her looking glass, Rose was quite certain, so there was no need to worry concerning distress from the home circle, at least not yet, and tomorrow morning young Miss Cosgrove would go to the mill and very quietly arrange everything with her mother. "The girl scouts are better than the police," she decided, not quite understanding how both could work so intimately, along different lines, yet each reaching the same result to assist wayward girls. This was, surely, a queer sort of arrest, a lovely kind of cell, and a most friendly pair of jailers, the little runaway had fallen among, and that she dreamed wonderful dreams, glowing with roses and fragrant with perfume, was not to be wondered at, for Mrs. Cosgrove's linen was sweet enough to induce even more delicious fancies. But what of poor, lost, erring, headstrong Tessie Warlitz? Rose imagined her in all sorts of wild predicaments, but with that kindness so marked in girls who have themselves suffered cruel misunderstandings, Rose determined not to betray her chum, but rather to do her utmost to find her, and win her back to good standing among girls--somehow. Thus really began in so subtle a manner her own interest in the principles of the Girl Scouts. "To help an erring sister" is a fundamental of the cause, but Rose little knew what that silent consecration would cost her. When all was quiet, late that night, young Martin Cosgrove sauntered along home and giving the familiar "three dots and a dash" whistle notified his mother of his approach. The light in the sitting-room window had in its turn told Martin his mother awaited him. "S-s-sh!" whispered the mother, opening the door very softly. "Don't make any noise." "What's up or who's sick?" asked the good-looking young man, pinching his mother's plump arm. "There's a little girl asleep in the spare room. Don't wake her," cautioned the mother, who, to prevent even a hat falling, had secured Martin's things and was putting them on the rack. "Friend of Molly's? Some new girl scout?" he asked, when they reached the seclusion of the kitchen. "Well, no, not just that, but a poor child Dad found lost," she compromised. "Lost, eh! And Chief of Police Mrs. Cosgrove rescued the lost chee-il-dd--as usual! Mom, you're a great cop, and I hear Molly is following in your fair footsteps!" "Stop your nonsense, Marty, and be off to bed. It's awful late! There's your fresh shirt for the morning. Take it along with you." "Thanks, Mom, and you have the Chink beat in his line, too," giving the freshly ironed cambric shirt an approving pat. "Tell Molly to go easy out at Flosston. Those True Tred Girl Scouts are a pretty lively little bunch from what I hear." "What do you mean?" asked the mother. "What did you hear about Flosston?" "Oh, just heard the boys talking. Nothing very much, but some girls ran away, not scouts, mill girls, mill detectives on their trail, and the Girl Scouts went on a hike and lassoed some poor guy by mistake. Oh, you know a lot of stuff like that, everybody hears and no one knows the real sense of. Only I thought Molly, just taking up with the Flosston work, ought to keep both eyes open, and wear good sensible shoes. Night, Mom!" and he kissed her very fondly. Mrs. Cosgrove indulged in two special brands of real pride--her boy and her girl! CHAPTER VII TENDERFOOT ADVENTURES The ends of this story are winding out like the strings of a Maypole, and just like those pretty dancing streamers, do the story lines all swing from the pole of the Girl Scout activities. The Flosston rally was held for the purpose of planning a broader program, and as told by Lieutenant Cosgrove, the arrangements there were made to afford the mill girls a chance to enjoy the meetings, and to participate generally in the regular membership. These plans had already thrown their influence over an entire chain of the big factories of Eastern Pennsylvania. Most of the plants employed one or two women welfare workers in their ranks, following the campaign waged by progressive women in the interests of better conditions among women wage-earners. This qualification pertained to girls as well as adults. So it was that young Molly Cosgrove, an assistant welfare worker, would be allowed to go from one mill to another in carrying out the new movement of Girl Scouts for mill workers between the ages of sixteen and twenty-two years. No girl under sixteen was supposed to be at work in mills, and if any such was found she must have been listed at the required minimum, sixteen. The sensational news of two girls having run away from the Fluffdown mills was now quickly making its way through Flosston and near-by communities. The Wartliz family had done its part in spreading the scandal, while the Brodix people said little, wagged their heads and grieved sincerely, for their Dagmar was a cherished daughter, and her loss had sadly strained the humble home circle. The fact that Miss Cosgrove had arrived at Fluffdown and talked with Mrs. Brodix was known only to those workers directly at that particular bench, and they quickly surmised the welfare worker was making inquiries about Dagmar. Instead, she had brought to the alarmed mother the news of her daughter's safety and secretly a plan had been made, whereby this little black-eyed woman would soon come out to Franklin on an evening, to see Dagmar, now known as Rose, and so make sure that the kind offices of the new found friends would be thoroughly understood, and likewise agreed to by Mrs. Brodix. Not even the talkative Kate Jordan, who worked next to Mrs. Brodix and kept her eyes and ears attentive during Molly Cosgrove's visit to the afflicted mill hand, guessed any of this, while the escape of Tessie Wartliz, from the very grasp of Officer Cosgrove, remained a secret with those who directly encountered the business end of that experience. Meanwhile the girls of True Tred were radiant with the prospect of their work--that of assisting the mill girls and actually taking part in real Americanization. To the younger girls, especially Cleo, Grace and Madaline, the plan opened a field of exciting adventure, for they had never been allowed to visit the mills, and were not encouraged to make acquaintance among the workers. "Now," said Cleo, when the three Tenderfoots got together after school was dismissed, "we will have as much real fun with live girls as we have ever seen played out in the pictures. Some mill girls do the queerest things, talk so funny, you can scarcely understand them, and they act--well, just like a play. Florence Hayden says so, she helped with their Christmas Sunday School entertainment last year." "Oh, well," demurred Madaline more kindly, "they never went to our schools. Some of them went to the Town Hall night school, but they only met their friends there and never got a chance to learn our ways." "You're a real good little home missionary, Madie," commented Grace, "and I'll vote for you when the mill committees are made up, only," and she puckered her pretty mouth into a rosette intended to express deep scorn, "of course we're too young, and we are only in the Tenderfoot Class." "I suppose Margaret will be picked," said Cleo, "she is fifteen and first class and has had a merit badge." "But she lost it," Grace reminded the trio. "And is going to get another from headquarters, Captain Clark said so." "Well, she deserves it, I'm sure," protested Cleo. "Oh, of course she does, but I would, too, if my plan worked out the other day," went on Grace. "What plan?" demanded Cleo, while Madaline pulled a long, serious face. "Oh, I wanted to do something noble and I tried to, but it did not just work out," faltered Grace, "but--I--am going--to try it again!" and her eyes blazed defiance at Madaline. "You just do, Grace Philow, and I'll--" "Who cares!" interrupted the unconquerable Grace, while Cleo looked a whole volume of inquiries. The McKay twins were romping over from a near-by playhouse, a little tepee made of cast off "shutters" the janitor had put outside after wrenching them from hinges, and the girls had promptly availed themselves of the material for a most attractive playhouse. "Hello! hello!" called both. "Who wants a ride home? Mother is sending the big car." "Oh, we all do, of course," spoke Cleo, the first to mingle words with her delight. "Who wouldn't love a ride in that big, spiffy limousine!" "Well, thank you just the same, but I don't, just today," Grace surprised them with answering. "I have an appointment with Brother Benny." "Oh!" said Winnie McKay significantly. "I see!" drawled her sister Norma. "Suit yourself," deprecated Cleo. "If you can't, you can't," philosophized Madaline. "That's exactly it," amplified Grace. "I can't, so I can't. Thank you, Winnie and Norma, for the lovely invitation, and please let me put it down to my credit account? I would like a refund," and she laughed her irresistible explosive outburst, in which the whole party joined, whether willingly or from acute inflection. A few moments later the party, all but Grace, climbed into the lovely, softly lined car, and when Winnie told the chauffeur to drive to the post-office first, Cleo was delighted to find she had a postal card to drop in the box. That would give every one around the Green a chance to see the style of the McKay twins and their school chums. And while the big car rolled smoothly over Oakley Avenue, Grace and Bennie were hurrying about--over a woodland road too rough and too narrow for other traffic than just nimble, willing feet. "You're crazy!" declared Benny, halting at the prospect of the long winding path Grace led him to, and insisted was the "right way." "That's what the girls say," answered the sister, "but really, Benny, I am not at all. Just as sane as--Libby Lintot, and you know every one says she is as crazy as a loon. But all the same if we follow this path we will come to my tree, and maybe we will find a lovely dead tramp all buried in the spring pine needles, tied up by Grace Philow Tenderfoot!" "Grace Philow lunatic!" answered the brother. "Nice thing to make a fellow miss a whole afternoon on marbles, just to hunt a tied-up tramp!" "Would you rather hunt tigers'?" asked Grace, running along like a wild squirrel, jumping over rocks and springing across the perpetual little streams and brooklets. "Sure I would, wouldn't you? What's an old tramp?" sneered Bennie. "Wait till you see him," promised Grace, "he's lovely. That is I think he is. I didn't exactly see his face, I was so busy tieing him up," explained the sister. Benny, two years younger than Grace, went forth on the man hunt, armed with his pop gun and water pistol. It was actually two days after the eventful experience of Grace and Madaline in River Bend Wood, when the latter had made such a desperate attempt to rescue the alleged "Mrs. Johnston's wash," but though many hours had passed, Grace was still haunted with the awful possibilities of her beloved tramp dying there, all tied up with clove hitches and running bowlines, while the birds scattered spring blossoms over his handsome face. True, she had hoped today, on this second expedition, to recover the lost wash, but to get to that big tree, and relieve the gnawing anxiety, was her first determination; dead or alive she must have a look at the tramp! Nothing could be worse than this awful uncertainty! "That's the grove over there! See the big straight tree! That's my tree!" she exclaimed, dragging along the erstwhile brave Benny, who just now showed an inclination to come to a full stop. "Come on, Benny, hold on to me. I'll peek first, from the other big tree back of the ivy stump. Then we can see without being seen." Like a pair of chipmunks they hopped from tree to tree, being careful to keep well in the shadow of one before risking a new position behind another. "Just like shadow tag," Benny made chance to whisper. "Gee, Sis, this is some little scouting." "Better than your Boy Scouts' games, isn't it, Benny?" Grace apologized, for indeed it was no easy matter to inveigle the big boy into a little girl's sport. Benny felt much bigger, and decidedly more mature than Grace--that is, he felt that way. "Oh, Ben, see!" exclaimed the sister. "There's something flying-over--maybe over a grave!" "Swell chance he had to--make--his own grave!" in contemptuous tones from Benny. "Well--it is a red flag, flying over something!" Grace whispered emphatically. Benny sprang out from his tree and with one hand on the automatic-loaded water pistol, and the other on the lead-loaded pop gun, he confronted the hypothetical grave! "Come on out, Sis," he invited the frightened Grace. "It isn't no grave. It's just a red handkerchief on a stick." Glancing furtively in the direction of the road, which ran parallel with the river path, and near enough to it to carry a voice from the woods to the road should emergency demand outcry, Grace stepped very gingerly out from her hiding into the open space in front of the famous "inhabited" tree. Yes, there was the red flag! "Wasn't that a signal for war? The flag was a red handkerchief, and it swayed from a stick cut from a variegated birch. "Oh!" sighed Grace, relief and excitement finding an outlet in that short syllable. "Look at the signal!" called Benny, now going straight up boldly to the flag of fury. "See, it's a wig-wag, pointing to that big rock. Let's look!" and he followed the pointing stick which, tied to the top of the improvised flagpole plainly meant--due west--to any one who understood the scout wig-wag code. "Here!" shouted Benny, now casting caution to the light winds of murmuring pines. "Here's more trail. See? It's our secret code of turned over sliver leaves, and it leads to--let's see." Benny was visibly excited and Grace was almost pulling him down from the rock in her eagerness to follow the signs. He turned over a rock which showed loose soil, and dried leaves clinging to its jagged sides. "Here it is, Grace! Sure enough! Here is a letter from your dead tramp. Maybe he died right after he wrote it," and even the small boy found humor in the queer uncanny situation. "Take it out by the roadway," suggested Grace, to whom the woods were now a little treacherous. She glared at as many trees as two brown eyes could embrace. "We can read it out under the big maple. Come on, Benny," she begged, dragging him forth again away from all the woodland mysteries. CHAPTER VIII CLUE TO THE MISSING So many and such exciting sequels are divulged through helpless little letters! How innocently the page of paper carries the silent words, yet how powerful is the influence to cheer or sadden! Grace had read her mystic letter, but beyond confiding in Benny, whose word of honor in secrecy she had exacted, not one single syllable of that note was to be divulged to any one. She had hopes that something really wonderful would develop from her remarkable experience, and while she would have liked to tell Madaline and Cleo, she feared antagonistic opinions, and, as it was entirely her own personal secret, and not a matter of girl scout business, or even chums' interest, it seemed decidedly better to keep her own precious counsel. "I'll tell them all when it happens!" she assured herself, by no means being certain just what she hoped "would happen." So the mystic letter was tucked away in the tiny, pink silk vanity bag, which Cleo had given Grace the Christmas before, and in the days following only her starry eyes threatened to betray the interesting fact, that the little Tenderfoot harbored a dark, delicious secret. Meanwhile Rose had taken her place in the Franklin mill and was being cared for by the benevolent Mrs. Cosgrove as a member of her family. "It was really providential," Molly told her mother one day at lunch, after having seen for the second time the parents of Dagmar Brodix, "for the family had to leave Pennsylvania, and it would have been very hard for them to take Rose along. It seems Mr. Brodix would not join the union, and both he and his wife had to be discharged to appease the labor men. Rose, too, would have been ordered out, as the whole family come under the ban imposed on the father." "Poor folks!" deplored Mrs. Cosgrove. "Those unions won't let anybody think for themselves! Where are they going?" "Away down east to a big silk mill," replied the daughter. "Mr. Brodix knew the superintendent in his own country, and got in the shop without a union card. But it is much better for Rose to stay with us until they get settled at least." "I took such a fancy to that child the moment I set eyes on her!" Mrs. Cosgrove explained to Molly. "You always do, Mumsey!" laughed the daughter, "but I entirely agree with you this time. Where is Rose now?" "Just gone to the post-office. She came in at twelve and finished her dinner in time for a bit of fresh air before going back. How is she getting on in her work?" "First rate, the forelady reports. Rose is naturally quiet, and as you predict, Mother, it is very important for her to be among new companions. A girl's pretty face is not always a help to her best interests." "Exactly, Molly. Everybody seems to pick on a pretty girl, while they leave the homely ones to tend their own business. But your dad is much worried about that other damsel who got away. There is no trace of her at all." "Yes, she made a clear escape. I heard one of the mill detectives making some inquiries. He did not have to question Rose. I gave him our end of it. I am afraid that other girl has gotten herself into more trouble. The detective did not say so outright, but I judged so from his line of questions." "Your father said as much, but like the detective, our own 'cop' isn't giving us all the information he holds. I'm glad the mill officials see the value of the girl scout movement. It's the only fair way to reach the girls without forcing them. Let them take a hand in their own interest--I always say." "The mill men see the wisdom of that. I would not have been engaged as a welfare worker if I had not been a scout lieutenant. Well, I must run along. We have a meeting in Flosston tonight, and I am going to take Rose with me." "I would. The girls of the troop have never met her to know her, and, at any rate, their training will check any possible criticism. Good-bye, girl. Better take your umbrella. We will have rain before sunset," and with this word mother and daughter separated for their respective afternoon tasks. Meanwhile Rose had called at the post-office. Her anxiety concerning the wayward Tessie constituted the one flaw in her otherwise happy new days. That she could not at once be with her parents was clear and reasonable to the girl, reared in hardship, and accustomed to many personal sacrifices, but that an incriminating letter would surely one day come from Tessie kept her nervously anxious. Rose had contrived to visit the post-office daily, hoping when the dreaded, yet longed-for, letter would come, she might receive it personally and thus avert possible complications with the Cosgrove family, who had official reasons for wishing to locate the runaway girl. With that keenness peculiar to foreigners when a matter vitally concerns them, the Brodix people had readily adopted the more useful name Dixon for their daughter, and today, when Rose inquired for mail, a much-soiled letter addressed to "Rose Dixon, care of Mrs. James Cosgrove," was handed out. Not risking the publicity of opening the envelope until she was well out of sight of observers, Rose hurried along, and turned an unnecessary corner to seclude herself in a particularly quiet street, there to open and read the letter. Somehow she felt it would contain news of Tessie, and her premonition was correct. "From mother!" she breathed affectionately, as the much handled little sheet of note paper, with its queer foreign script, lay in her hand. Then she noticed an inclosure. Yes! There was the note from Tessie! So anxious was Rose to know where Tessie was, she glimpsed through the little note without actually reading one word of it. She was just looking for a clue as to the girl's whereabouts, but to her disappointment none was given! Not one word showed the capital letter at its face, that would have marked the name of any place! Tessie wrote English well enough to make herself understood, and the brief note was almost explosive in its choice of strong phrases. The "quarter whistle" blew, announcing to Rose the fact that fifteen minutes of the precious noon hour still remained, and as ten would be ample time for her to reach the mill, in the five extra minutes she might read her letters. Stopping at a little stone wall, which surrounded one of the oldest houses in Franklin, Rose read first the note from Tessie. As she expected, the "news" was more a compilation of strong slang than an attempt to impart any real information, and although but a short time removed from the acute influence of "chewing-gum English," Rose had already developed a dislike for the more vulgar of such forms of utterance. She read: "Hello, kid! Where are you? Did you break loose from Grandpa? I had some beatin' to do, but I done it and made a get-a-way good 'nough for the movies. Don't ask me where I'm at, for it's a secret. But, say, Kid. Oh, you scout badge! It's a miracle worker--and better than real coin. I wouldn't give it up for a Liberty Bond. So long! can't tell you just now what my private post-office box is but will later. My folks are cross-eyed looking for me, but all they ever wanted was my pay-envelope, so I should worry about them. Give my love to yourself and if you're not out of jail yet for the love of molasses, don't be a simp! Get busy!" It was signed "T. W." And that was all; so like Tessie. Rose sighed audibly, then read her mother's letter and while this was really interesting to the daughter it now seemed tame in comparison, and it really was the letter from Tessie that gave her blue eyes the preoccupied look all that afternoon. So the lost and found scout badge was serving the runaway girl as a passport. Perhaps she was using it for unworthy purposes, and it was unlawful to wear a scout badge without authority. The offence was punishable by law. Rose thoroughly understood all this, but how could she reach Tessie to warn her! Even a dismissed scout must return her badge and buttons to the organization, and there was Tessie Wartliz forging her way on the strength of that special merit badge! Such thoughts as these riveted the attention of Rose, when Molly Cosgrove, passing through the room, whispered she could go with the lieutenant to the Flosston meeting that night. "All right. Thank you!" replied Rose to the invitation, but, somehow, she dreaded its acceptance. CHAPTER IX A TRIBUTE OF ROSES The little meeting room over the post-office in Flosston had served as headquarters for True Tred Troop--and tonight Margaret Slowden was to receive her new badge, to take the place of that much-prized little gilt wreath with its clover leaf center, her merit badge lost some weeks before. "Hurry along!" called Grace, who was impatiently waiting for Cleo and Madaline, both of whom seemed to enjoy lagging while Grace wanted to be early rather than late. "Don't you know we have to take our tests and Captain Clark ordered us to be at headquarters at seven-fifteen sharp?" "All right," responded Cleo, "but here come Mable Blake and Mildred Clark. We can all be together if you just wait half a second for us, Grace." "I don't mind seconds, but I hate hours!" retorted Grace. "I don't want to be a moment late and give anyone a chance to think up hard questions for my tests." "Oh, you needn't worry," Cleo assured her. "I know you can beat us all at knots." That brought back to Grace her attempt to make a "clove-hitch" and a "running bowline carry out her noble deed" and she flashed a significant look at Madaline, who shared a part of her secret. "Oh, yes, I know the knots," she replied. "But you just ought to see me try to light my fire in the open, with two matches! More like two boxes I guess." "And my simple dish," contributed Mildred Clark, who now, with her companions, had joined the group, and all were merrily making their way to the meeting room. "I thought I would select the very simplest of the simple, and I took pork and beans." "You did!" exclaimed a chorus. "Yes, and it is a real wonder I am here. I thought I never would get out of that old hot kitchen. Martha told me I should have taken Irish stew but--" "But you preferred the Boston Bake," interrupted Mable Blake. "Of course Mildred wouldn't have anything to do with the Irish!" teased Madaline, who was well known to have "leanings" in that direction. "Indeed, I will never scorn the Celts again!" sighed Mildred, "for I had to brown the pork and it burned. I had to soak the beans all night and they swelled up so I had to scoop them up on a dust pan next morning. I didn't use those, of course," as the girls' looks protested, "I had enough on the floor to plant a garden and I really did plant them. Then, the big pan full I baked, and it took all day. Did you ever know plain pork and beans constituted an exact science in the preparation for the table? Why didn't I try milk toast, and get finished in time for your ball game, girls? Don't you think I am a real hero of the simple dish-pork and beans?" "We surely do, Millie, and I hope you get a perfect mark for all that work," spoke up Grace. "My real trouble came in making a bed. That sounds so easy, but our beds have lace covers, and no sooner would I get one end straight, than the other would be all draped up in little cascades. Don't you all just hate to make beds?" "Oh, no, I love to do it," declared Mabel. "But just let me show you my flag. Doesn't it look like a crazy quilt design?" and from her scout manual she unfolded a page of paper, with the required American flag drawn and colored in crayons, and not really a poor illustration of her beloved Old Glory. "Well, you have all had your troubles, but I think mine was by far the most complicated and exasperating," Cleo declared, coherent conversation being made quite possible by the double file in which the girls grouped themselves, as they walked along. "You should just see me take my measurements. Of course I forgot to follow instructions and 'see card at headquarters,' as the little blue book directs." "My sakes!" exclaimed Grace. "Do we have to have our measurements tonight?" "We must answer all test questions and that is one of them," replied Cleo. "But when I got my height by using a pencil over my head on a door-post, of course we all do that, I had a set of cords all knotted up at points to show waist, chest, arm, etc., and our pet kitten, Cadusolus, made a tackle for the whole bunch, and before I could recover them she had taken her own measures on my marked strings. I won't be sure of them now, for I had to finish them in a big hurry after that." "I know the Mariner's Compass by heart," called in Mabel Blake from the rear line. "Brother Jack tested me, and he said I could sail an ocean liner with my knowledge," she insisted proudly. "We have our tests first, don't we?" asked Grace. "Yes, of course, that all happens outside in the private troop room, but I'll bet the other girls listen at the keyhole!" put in Mildred. "And last time a lot of boys on the back fence could see in the window," Madaline reminded the anxious aspirants. "Oh, there go all the other girls, let's hurry," urged Cleo, and when the candidates mounted the stairs over the post-office, they were but a small part of the noisy crowd that pounded its way on the narrow and rather uncertain steps. All of the officers assisted in the examinations so that not more than a half hour was consumed in that detail, and when the girls filed into the drill room, their smiling faces announced the good news that all had passed. Quickly at the given signal all the troops "fell in" and the regulation "horse shoe" was formed with Captain Clark and Lieutenant Lindsley in the gap, when the salute was given and the other formalities complied with and each candidate was conducted to the captain. After answering the captain's questions and saluting, each candidate received her staff, neckerchief and knot from the patrol leader, while the badge was pinned on the blouse of the solemn-faced girls by the captain herself. All of this was conducted with a striking degree of seriousness, and as the exercises made Tenderfoots out of the newest candidates, our own little friends looked on, with united dignity, while they awaited their turn to receive degrees of the second and first class. The tests for Tenderfoot were but simple, and consisted mainly of knots made and the knowledge of scout laws, with a few civic questions, so that the beginners shared no part of the anxiety experienced by Cleo, Grace and Madaline, and those of their higher grades. The distinction of advancement is the privilege of wearing the badge on the left sleeve, second class below the elbow and first class above on the same arm, so that ceremonial occupied but a brief space of time. No conversation was permitted during the Investure, but the presence of Rose, who sat in a corner looking on with wondering eyes, had not been unobserved by the scouts. That she had come from Franklin with Lieutenant Cosgrove was sufficient credential for the privilege of being present during the ceremonial, but it was Grace who talked with her eyes to Cleo, directing her interpretative glances from the pretty little stranger, to the now duly installed second-class scout, her message being, "See that pretty strange girl over there?" and Cleo replying in turn with her glance, "Yes, isn't she pretty? Who is she?" With all her light-heartedness, which was sometimes termed "light-headedness," Grace was fast developing a new sense, somewhat related to our old friend Common Sense. Ever since she tried her girl scout knot in the woods, and had eventually received a real letter from the actual victim, she had been planning to "confess" to the other girls, and seek their advice. First, she made up her mind to tell Madaline, as that friend already knew a part of the secret, but the fact that Cleo was credited with better judgment swayed her toward that counsel. Then came such a succession of busy days, busy afternoons and busy evenings, Grace could find no available time for the portentous, confidential conventions of chums. So no one but Benny had, as yet, heard anything of the mysterious letter found in the holly rock in River Bend Woods. But this evening during all the scout ceremony Grace and her conscience were having a silent battle on the score of the prolonged secrecy. Grace wished to wait a little while longer but her conscience fought for immediate confession. Only the importance of Captain Clark's speech seemed sufficiently strong to drag her attention from this mental conflict. "In striving for honors," the captain was now stating, "Girl Scouts must be careful to use prudence and wisdom. It will not do to rush into personal danger to do something that may seem to be brave and noble, when a less hazardous means of accomplishing the same end may be found, if intelligently sought for." Grace sank back in her seat. The captain's eyes seemed to be directed straight at her! Could anyone have told Captain Clark? "All our special honor and merit badges are tokens of noble deeds, done for humanity according to the principles laid down by our rules, and explained in our manual, but none of these should be interpreted as involving unnecessary risk to us, or the use of our guns, our ropes, our staffs in any violence which might be avoided!" "Ropes!" repeated Grace under her breath. "We should not--use--our ropes--" "Grace!" whispered Madaline. "See that big bunch of roses over there!" "Yes!" nodded Grace. "They are for Margaret Slowden when she gets her new merit badge, and nobody knows who sent them!" "Uh-hum-m!" breathed Grace in assent. When Captain Clark finished her practical talk, the ceremony of bestowing the substitute badge on Margaret was the nest feature of the evening's exercises. "You all recall our lovely ceremony on the evening of Margaret's original presentation of her merit badge," the captain said, "but this time we have merely to call attention to that great occasion and our minds are filled with its pleasant memories. The noble deed done to acquire this badge was one of unusual heroism and peculiar wisdom," she went on, "for Margaret stayed at her post in a dreary, lonely room, guarding her hats and cloaks with the same spirit of attention to duty which at that same hour was bringing her distinguished brother his consecrated D.S.C. We will now pin upon Margaret's breast--a badge to take the place of that one, lost some time ago, and we all hope she will be doubly rewarded by the second badge of merit!" There was a stir in the audience and Margaret was conducted to the platform by her patrol leader. Captain Clark then pinned on her coat the new badge, with the words of commendation, and this concluded, an usher advanced with the bouquet. The captain glanced at the card before indicating that the testimonial be presented. It was inscribed merely--"A Friend." Everyone was puzzled. It was very unusual to give hot-house flowers in May. Then a side door was heard to creak on its hinges and the pretty stranger, Rose Dixon, was just seen passing out. "I wonder why she left?" Madaline asked Grace. "Oh, I don't know, but I would like to leave myself," unexpectedly retorted Grace. "Sick?" persisted Madaline. "No--just tired," and no one knew better than Grace what a conscience prodder such a meeting as this proved to be--that is "no one" except, perhaps, Rose Dixon. CHAPTER X TELLING SECRETS Determined to wait no longer than the very next afternoon, Grace asked both Cleo and Madaline over to her front porch directly after school, assuring their acceptance to her invitation by the lure of "a big secret to tell them." Needless to say, they came, and there, in the shadow of the yellow and white honeysuckle blossoms, with busy bees buzzing in and out of the honey-filled cups, Grace disclosed the story of her second trip to River Bend Woods. The girls were fascinated. To think the tied-up man had written a letter! "Yes, but," argued Grace. "I am a little timid ever since. See, he says he hopes he can lasso me some day with my own rope! Just suppose he does!" "Oh, I am sure he was just joking there," wise little Cleo ventured. "He just said that to tease you, for teasing him." "Maybe," replied Grace rather tonelessly. "Let me see it again," begged Madaline, reaching for the well-fingered little sheet of paper. "But he says," she read, "he liked your courage, and he hated to spoil all your nice scout knots. That must mean he is a good friend." "Oh, it might just mean the opposite," gloomed Grace, who had read the letter so many times every syllable weighed a clause to her. "He may have meant that merely in sarcasm." "Who ever do you suppose he was?" asked Madaline foolishly. "Is, you mean," corrected Grace. "He didn't die, so he still is." "Of course, that's what I mean. Only he isn't there now, so he was, I think," insisted Madaline, without taking any offence at the crispness of Grace's manner. "Whether he is or whether he was, we might get along better if we tried to guess who he could possibly be," Cleo assisted. "Have you the least idea?" "Not the slightest. You see, that sheet of paper came out of a notebook, and anyone could own a notebook or even find one," Grace speculated. "Let me read the whole letter through?" asked Cleo. "We can't make sense out of single sentences." Grace handed over the much-criticized little missive. She read aloud: "LITTLE SCOUT BANDIT: "I hate to spoil all your pretty knots, but I can't stay tied up any longer. I am taking the rope along, and some day I hope to lasso you in return. You gave me a merry chase after my bag--quite a little runner you are. When I chance this way again I will look for an answer in our hollow rock. Good luck, Scout Bandit-- "THE VICTIM." "There!" exclaimed Madaline, "only an educated man could write that!" "But many wicked men are wonderfully educated!" Grace insisted on worrying. "He seems jolly," mused Cleo. "All tramps joke," said Grace. "Well, if you want a tramp, have one," laughed Cleo. "We won't mind, Gracie." "I'm not Gracie, and I hate tramps. I tried to be nice to one when I was a little girl. Mother was giving him pie and coffee, and I said it was hard for men to be tramps. He turned right around and hissed: 'You're too gabby!' That's the way tramps appreciate kindness." "And you called him a tramp to his face!" exclaimed Madaline. "Oh, girls, leave the old tramp alone and let's get to the new wild-westerner," begged Cleo. "I'll tell you what we'll do. Let's write an answer to his letter, and explain we only wanted to do something brave for our Scout honors, but we understand better now, and Grace, do you want to say you're sorry you tied him up?" "No, indeed I do not!" snapped Grace. "Why should I, when I was trying to get Mrs. Johnston's wash!" "Oh, Cleo doesn't know about that," Madaline reminded Grace. "We forgot that. You see, Cleo," she continued, "the man had a bag of clothes beside him, and Grace got a hook made of a good strong stick. She tied this to her rope (she had a lot of ropes with her to practice her knots, you know), but when she saw the bag, and thought she saw things like Mrs. Johnston's wash, why, of course, she just tried to get it." "And I did, too," insisted Grace, "I dragged it all the way to the big rock. Then we heard some one coming, but I held fast, I never lost it until the bag got stuck behind the rock. I wanted so much to get poor Mrs. Johnston's wash," she lamented. "Well, shall we write the letter?" Cleo followed up. "I have to say I am afraid to go in the woods now," admitted Grace. "Suppose he should capture us all!" "We could make some excuse to bring a lot of girls along," Madeline suggested. "He couldn't capture a whole troop." "Wouldn't it be better to get some big strong boy to fetch the letter out there for us?" proposed the practical Cleo. "Whom could we trust?" Grace asked. "I wouldn't depend on brothers. They are too tricky. But how about Hal Crane? He is always interested in our troop doings, and besides he's a good scout himself. I think I would ask him," Cleo determined. "All right," agreed Grace, "and Cleo dear," with her arms around the girl at the end of the bench, "won't you be a darling and write the letter?" "And get lassoed?" laughed her chum. "Well, I don't mind. I think he must be a very nice man, and maybe I shall adopt him for my hero." "You may. I would be very glad to get rid of him," Grace confessed. "I was so worried all this time, and I couldn't get a chance to tell you a word about it." "And I can imagine every rope you saw you just imagined was coming your way," teased Cleo. "Just about. But say, girls, another thing. Did you see that pretty girl who came in last night with the lieutenant from Franklin?" "Oh, yes, the pretty blonde with the blue crocheted tam, I saw her. I guess everyone did," Madaline replied. "Well, she was so pretty I couldn't help watching her, and I am sure she acted awfully nervous when the flowers were sent up to Margaret." "She went out directly the ushers took up the bouquet," Madaline added. "And never came back for the ice cream," went on Grace. "Well, what I wanted to say is, I have seen that pretty girl before and I sort of think she was the one who used to be with the dark-eyed girl they say ran away." "Why, she came with Lieutenant Cosgrove, and surely wouldn't be a companion to a runaway mill girl!" protested Madaline. "You forget, newly second class, that we are taking in the mill girls in our troop, and are all pledged to do our best to help them," Grace declared. "I know more than one very nice girl in Fluffdown. Daddy is one of the superintendents there." "Yes, of course," Cleo acquiesced. "And my daddy is in charge of the main office." "I am sure we should be interested in that line, and our scouting is so practical. I understand Lieutenant Lindsley is going to call a special meeting of True Tred to make definite plans. Some of our girls need education in social latitude, quite as much as do the mill girls, she told us last night, and, judging from the way Hattie Thompson laughed when a mill girl slipped in the mud the other day, I think some of the girls need a special course in common politeness," said Madaline. "There come Ben's boys," Grace announced. "Let's go out on the lawn and have a game of 'Heel and Toe.'" "I can't, Grace. I have some shopping to do for mamma, and we have been talking nearly an hour," Cleo declared, glancing at her wrist watch. "You stay, Madaline. Don't go because I have to." "I really must go," Madaline also insisted. "But be sure, Grace, that Cleo understands all about the letter," she added. "I will write it and call a meeting of this committee to consider it," proposed Cleo. "Isn't it lovely and exciting?" "You may think so, but I am glad I no longer have to lug that secret around all alone," said Grace, as the girls were preparing to leave. "Almost as heavy as Mrs. Johnston's wash," teased Madaline. "Well, good-bye, Grace. We will do all we can to find--you know." Benny was almost close enough to hear the parting words, but in his boyish head, chuck full of sports and frolics, he had little room for girls' secrets, and even the knowledge thrust upon him by Grace in her trip to the woods had long ago gone the way of his lost game of "Bear in the Pit." Boys have a wonderful way of forgetting failures, and it is that trait which later entitles them to the claims of being good sports, using the title "sport" in its best and most vigorous application. "Well, that's over, thank goodness!" breathed Grace, referring to her "confession," as she smilingly turned to her piano practice, a duty indifferently done since her encounter with the writer of the mysterious letter. CHAPTER XI THE TANGLED WEB While the Girl Scouts of Flosston were arranging to extend their troop activities so that they would include the girls from Fluffdown mills, who wished to join, two other girls were becoming more and more involved in an influence, seemingly subtle, but surely sufficiently powerful to "win out" eventually. Tessie Wartliz was enmeshed in that oftquoted "tangled web," coincident with the first attempt at deception. "Oh, what a tangled web we weave When first we practice to deceive!" Reading those lines mean very little to the girl who has never been so unfortunate as to know their fullest meaning, but Tessie knew not the lines, it was their threat she felt, their dark story she was living through. Rose returned from the rally of the True Tred Troop with deeper blue in her eyes and brighter pink in her cheeks. It had been so wonderful! To see all those girls promising to do so much, not only for one another, but for all girls, then the inspiring ceremony, the lovely exercises, the music! It did not seem possible that all this came to the good fortune of some girls in that mill town, while others struggled to gain advantage over their companions, as they worked in gloomy surroundings, prone to some sort of rebellion. And to think Rose had been asked to help carry this new story to her former companions, and to those with whom she was now associated! Sitting for a few precious moments in her little room at Mrs. Cosgrove's, although her light had been extinguished, and it was too late to enjoy the tempting reverie, Rose, even in the dark, could feel the comfort and sense the luxury of that simple, well-ordered home. How strange that she should have been picked up from the peril of waywardness, and become so safely sheltered by these benevolent strangers! Was it because Molly Cosgrove, too, taught and practiced the girl scout principles, and because Mrs. Cosgrove was a pioneer from whom such principles emanate? Gradually Rose sensed the difference in American and foreign ideals, and now it was as if the curtain had lifted, and her own mind was cleared of the confusing doubts and suspicions she had heretofore struggled with. The soft, sweet air of young summer wafted from the flowery vines, caressed her pretty face as she stared out of the low window into the velvet night, and she was glad, so glad she had sent those roses! "If only I could have returned that badge!" she pondered; "why did Tessie run off with it!" The dark thought immediately cast a shadow over her happiness just at that moment, a vagrant cloud in a sky almost untarnished, deliberately sailed into the moon, and blackened the window through which Rose gazed. "I guess that means bed!" she decided and promptly slipped between the grateful covers. But not to sleep. The thoughts of Tessie and her insinuating letters were too persistent to be immediately banished. Try as she might, Rose could find no key to the problem of how to reach the girl and reclaim the innocent badge, now serving as a baneful influence in the uncertain career of Tessie Wartliz. "If only I could talk with her just a few minutes," Rose kept repeating, and that wish became the source of a plan, from which sprung a new resolve. She must see Tessie! Fixed in her brain, that resolve actually took root, and even in sleep it seemed to grow, to get stronger with the hours, and to mature with courage silently imparted through tired nature's sweet restorer. Balmy sleep! Troubled dreams discovered the runaway girl in strange surroundings, now working in a dark gloomy mill, and flashing her black eyes like lighted coals at every word of correction offered by her superiors, again Tessie seemed to be enjoying the soft luxury of some favored home, a wild flower in a garden of hot-house blooms. But it was all a dream, and Rose knew nothing of Tessie's adventure, beyond the suspicions conveyed in the two sketchy letters sent since the escapade. A few days later the Leader, an evening paper, contained a story startling to the girls of Flosston, and positively shocking to Rose Dixon. This told of a young girl claiming to be a girl scout, running off with a lot of ticket money, the funds she had obtained by pretending to assist an entertainment being conducted for the benefit of the Violet Circle of Shut-ins. That a girl scout should rob cripples! And that a clue should lead back to Flosston, inferring the culprit might belong in that town! Instantly Rose knew the mystery meant Tessie, and that the purloined badge had served as her scout credential! Panic seized her! She had seen the paper on her way home from work, and at table, when Molly Cosgrove discussed the item, Rose felt her own guilt must be obvious to those around her. Yet no one knew Tessie had taken the badge. No one knew Rose had found the pretty emblem! "How could a girl scout act so dishonorably?" Molly questioned indignantly. "And she actually got away with the money," Mrs. Cosgrove repeated. "Some young bold girls can cover their tracks better than hardened men." Rose felt her cheeks pale. She had never known the antics of nervous chill, but just now a series of "goose-flesh-flashes" chased all over her. "You must be very tired, Rose," remarked Molly keenly. "Better go to bed early and omit the meeting. Mrs. Brennen, the welfare leader at Conit, is coming over, but you can hear her another time. You had nervous work on those scarfs to-day. I heard the girls say that floss stuck like chiffon." "It was sticky," Rose was glad to comment, "and I guess I won't go over to the school house if you don't mind. Perhaps I will just take a walk in the air and later write a few letters." "The fresh air is what you want," Mrs. Cosgrove unconsciously assisted in the plans seething through the troubled brain of Rose. "I've noticed you are a bit pale lately. But we can't expect to make a robust Rose out of you all at once. You feel all right, don't you?" "Oh, yes, thank you. I have a little headache, the reds and pinks glare so, I guess they hurt the eyes a little," Rose qualified. "They do indeed," agreed Mrs. Cosgrove. "Have you heard from your folks?" "Yes, I had a letter to-day," answered Rose truthfully. "They are getting along splendidly, and father says he thinks he will soon have a good place for me." "That's fine. We are glad to have you with us, Rose, but with your own folks will be better, when things get all nicely fixed up." "Yes," put in Molly. "When you go off to take your own place now, Rose, you will understand American ways much better than you did when you came. And wherever you go, I am going to send word ahead to the Girl Scouts so that you may join at once and keep up your training. Our own troop is going to organize to-morrow night. We are going to call ourselves the Venture Troop, as we will be the first troop yet formed in a manufacturing plant." "Then the Franklin's will be organized before the True Treds take in the mill girls of Flosston?" queried Rose. "They also meet this week to initiate a group of a dozen girls from Fluffdown. These are to be scattered in two troops and they will try the plan of putting the strangers in with the girls who have had scout experience. You see, we have no troop at all in Franklin, and I am ambitious to have the first formed of our own girls exclusively. They are very enthusiastic." "I will be sorry if I have to go away," Rose murmured, and her eyes darkened into violet tones with deeper emotion. "And I can't tell you how I shall miss you if you do have to go," spoke Molly. "But you are not gone yet. At least you will be made a troop leader before you go from Franklin. Then, in your new surroundings you will be able to assist others to do what you have seen done here." "I never knew how much girls could help girls until I saw the scouts at that meeting the other night," said Rose, a note of sadness in her subdued voice. "If only I had such a chance before--before--" "No regrets. Remember all our trials bring compensations. For instance, if you had not made the mistake of leaving home that night, you would never, perhaps, have met the Cosgroves," and she smiled happily in an attempt to cheer the drooping spirits of the girl sitting opposite, who had not touched her cake or even sipped her tea. "Yet I did not do it. My mistake was not the--the real clue," Rose managed to say, her hold on useful English betraying its uncertain foundation. "It was your mother's good nature, not my mistake," she clarified. "I'll accept the honors. Drink your tea and take your cake. It is not much of a compliment to turn aside from the cake I gave up the home lecture this afternoon to bake for you two. Marty is gone out of town on business, and won't be back for three days, and our big officer wants pie, and scorns cake. So you see it is the plain duty of you two to eat this," and Mrs. Cosgrove helped herself to a real sample of the iced pyramid. "I cannot help thinking of that girl who ran off with the crippled children's money," Molly reverted to the earlier conversation. "I don't believe she was a girl scout at all," she declared emphatically. "But the paper said she was," Rose spoke, fearing her voice would shake her into a full confession of her own conspiracy to shield Tessie. "Oh, no, it did not state she was a scout," Molly corrected, "the paragraph read she claimed to be. There is a great difference." "Well, it is very queer our own good officer," meaning Jim Cosgrove, "never found trace of that girl. She must have covered her tracks in some unusual way," declared Mrs. Cosgrove, "for Jim is not one to be easily fooled. So Rose, if you are not going out I am sure you will be glad to help with the tea things. Molly, I pressed your waist when I had the irons for Marty's neckties, so I treated you as well." "Momsey, you are perfect in your plans. Never use an iron for one without applying it to the other. And I will be joyous in my fresh blouse. Rose, please put a tag on my piece of cake, I'll enjoy that end when I come in. I have only a little time to get ready now, as I must make out a programme for our preliminary drill. I'll tell you all about it, Rose. Take a walk when you finish helping mother. You don't get any too much air, you know," and Molly hummed her newest waltz song as she capered around in preparation for the evening's activities. Molly was always jolly, if not singing she would be "chirping" as her brother Martin termed the queer sort of lispy whistle she indulged in, and even while dressing, it was a practice of hers to vary the operations with home-made jazz. During all this Rose was making up her mind to go straight out in the big world and find Tessie Wartliz. She did not know just how she would set about it, but her mind was made up on the one important point, namely, that the finding must be undertaken and at once. Rose could no longer stand the misery of secrecy concerning the lost scout pin. Every headline in a paper glared out at her as if threatening to expose her guilty knowledge. Every letter she received through the busy little post-office sent a frightened chill over her delicate form, and now she felt certain her benefactors, the Cosgrove family, must know she had heard from the runaway girl, and they were too generous to ask a single question concerning the matter. They trusted her, and she must deceive them! "I will have to say that mother has sent for me," she decided after a bitter hour alone in her room, "and when I find Tessie----" She paused. She was baffled! What would she do if she did find Tessie? CHAPTER XII TESSIE Again our scene shifts, and, as in the screen play, that retrospective distant picture brings one back to an earlier vision, so from the distance we now see the runaway, Tessie. Step by step, along the dark, uncertain road of offences which in themselves were trivial, but which brought such dire results upon the erring girl as to make her all but an outcast, Tessie, after the first foolish blunder, found herself confronted with a seeming necessity for keeping up the false role she had almost unwittingly assumed. The girl was not wicked. Her untrained and unrestrained tongue was her worst enemy, and it very often belied her honest, generous heart. In inducing Dagmar to leave home she actually believed she was assisting a friend--her intention was to better that friend's circumstances, but the methods! How could she know that right could not result from deliberate wrong! That doctrine had never been made a part of such education as she had the opportunity of acquiring. True, the girl learned right from wrong, also her religion was very clear on the point, but she could not then believe it was wrong to fly from the horrors of mill drudgery, made unbearable by the more intimate environment of a miserable home. So Tessie Wartliz was suffering from an inherited disease commonly called "Greed." Her parents were greedy for money, and she was greedy for good times. She wanted much of anything she enjoyed, and had little care how that abnormal amount was obtained. The fatal night she and Dagmar (now our own Rose Dixon) landed so suddenly in Franklin, where the jitney dropped them almost into the arms of Officer Cosgrove, Tessie, as we will remember, escaped, and carried with her the pocketbook she had been carrying for her companion, and in that little soiled purse was the much-prized, lost and found, scout badge of merit. Tessie at first thought little or nothing of the trinket. As she had scoffed at its purpose, when Rose respected it, so she brushed it aside as of no importance when she emptied the pitiful pittance of her forsaken companion into her own pocketbook, when forced to use the funds or beg from strangers. On the step of the last jitney that rumbled through Franklin making no stops, and being entirely unoccupied by passengers, Tessie managed to hide as the car slowed up at a turn, and later she crawled inside, when the sleepy driver, his day and night work finished, allowed the motor to "take its head" as we might say to a horse-drawn vehicle. Her heart almost ceased beating when the officer who commanded the line between the two villages, stopped Frank and demanded to know if he carried any passengers. "Three empty dinner pails that came out full of supper," the driver called back, and Tessie actually under the seat, felt free to breathe again and keep watch for some turn where a kindly house light might gleam out to save her from a dreaded night, under a tree or behind some rugged, wild world shelter. Just as Frank, the driver, slowed down, preparatory to turning for the big shed, under which the modern carry-all would be laid up until daylight next morning, Tessie decided she would ask this rustic to assist her. Believing that most men, especially those not too old, were apt to be kind-hearted or maybe "softhearted," she climbed from her hiding place, and timidly tapped Frank on his astonished shoulder. "Gosh!" he exclaimed, "where'd you come from?" "I lost my way!" she answered not altogether untruthfully. "Can you help me? Where do you live?" "Say," Frank challenged, "you look pretty near big enough to talk to traffic cops. How'd you get in this boat, anyhow?" His voice was not friendly. That anyone should have climbed into the "Ark" without signalling him was evidently opposed to his sense of humor. Tessie did not reply as glibly as she had intended to. Instead she threw herself on his mercy, as actors might say in melodrama. "Honest I did get lost. I'm on my way to the Woolston mills, and I missed so many trains, and caught so many jitneys I lost count. Then, when I saw you come along I was so glad I almost--well, I just flopped. I was dog-tired. First I hailed you, but you were dozing I guess, then I was scared to death you would jolt by and leave me, so I had to climb on." "Oh," replied Frank, not altogether convinced, but evidently on the way to conviction. "I did fall off a little, I'm out since four A.M. Now, young lady, what's your idea of fixin' for the night? My old lady, meaning a first-rate little mother, is awful strict about girls ridin' in this bus not accompanied by their parents, and I don't see my way clear to tote you home at this unearthly hour. I see by--the make-up" (with an inclusive glance over the now thoroughly frightened Tessie) "that you are a mill girl, and I know they are takin' on new hands at Woolston's, so that sounds natural, but findin' you like this in the Ark--even mother might think that a little bit stretched." "Well, tell me the name of some one out this way, and I can say I'm goin' there, and you can fix it by objectin' to takin' me. Say, you didn't know when I got on how far I wanted to go." "Some cute little fixer, you are," Frank admitted, and this was the story Tessie clung to when Frank Apgar brought the girl into his mother's house a few minutes later. Thus began her adventure weeks ago. Each day and every night adding new and more serious complications to the seemingly innocent quest for a broader life than could be lived in the mill end of Flosston, Tessie was compelled to add falsehood to fabrication, to bear out her original story, and save herself from being "picked up" and forcibly returned to her parents. She knew the Franklin officer would trace her easily if she went by frequented ways, so instead of looking for work in a mill she sought and obtained employment in a family of rather influential suburbanites. The scarcity of domestic help assisted her in this enterprise, and being really skilled in handling machinery and materials, it was not difficult for her to follow orders, and assist a cook who was overjoyed to have help of any sort in the big country residence. But the little human butterfly had tried her wings, and she very quickly found life at Appleton too tame for her liking. Directly upon receiving pay for her first two weeks of service, Tessie (her assumed name meant nothing to her or to us) said good-bye to Rebecca the cook, and taking no chances with members of the family who were "interested in her," she left Appleton and journeyed forth again. She had now acquired a new accomplishment. She could serve as waitress or second girl, and this advantage almost assured her of success in any sort of well-built community. But it would be tame, slow, as Tessie figured it out, and only a big city could possibly satisfy her ambition "to be somebody." Then came the temptation which resulted so disastrously. Out in Elmhurst, her next stop, a troop of girl scouts was drilling when she stepped off the train. New clothes and a better appearance, the result of that first pay at housework, had converted the mill girl into quite an attractive young lady, and as she waited at the pretty little square, watching the girl scouts drill, something like envy possessed her. Why did they always seem so settled, so prosperous and satisfied! What was there in a mere society that could do all that for any girl? This question she asked almost audibly, for her lips moved and her face betrayed a puzzled and aggressive look of defiance. It was always that way with Tessie. She fought first and investigated later. This unfortunate characteristic was responsible for much of her perversity. She set herself against conditions instead of trying to overcome them. Never had her unhappy self felt more aggressive than now, as she watched those girl scouts drill, every peal of laughter they sent over the velvet green seemed to hiss at her, and every graceful valiant maneuver of wig-wagging or physical drill added deeper envy to her smoldering jealousy. "That's the kind of thing Dagmar likes," she told herself. "Pity some movie man couldn't get that picture. It would go fine at a Sunday School mixup." This last was another thrust at organized authority, but the thought of Dagmar recalled the scout badge. "Humph!" she scoffed. "Guess I could fool them if I wanted to. I'll bet none of them has this grand marshall headlight!" Her hand was on the little bag wherein lay that badge. Its pin was entangled in threads of torn handkerchiefs, and its pretty clover leaf was enameled with caked face powder and candy dust. For a few moments she considered slipping her hand in the bag and quickly pinning the badge on her pretty rose-colored sweater. Then she could walk over to the drilling troop, and introduce herself as a visiting scout, sure to be made welcome in Elmhurst. "But they might catch me on their sign language," she decided. "Guess I better wait until I get on to some of their deaf and dumb stuff." So for the moment she was saved, but the temptation was too alluring to be easily vanquished. It was certain to return, and that in an hour when seeming necessity offered a more urgent excuse for its fulfillment. The scout badge in hands unconsecrated was like a holy thing surrounded by evil--it would maintain its own pure character unsullied, but evil mocked it--and the good, like a frightened little fairy, hid itself deep in girl-scout idealism, waiting for rescue. Tessie was restive and unhappy. She had failed to gain by all her risks and daring adventure. Not only had she lost her place, but she had likewise lost her companions, and while unwilling to admit it the girl felt keenly the separation from Dagmar. "All the same," she declared, taking a last look at the girls in their brown uniforms on the green square, "I'll be one of them some day. They don't have to be too particular about girls they are supposed to help. I'll give them a good chance to help little old Tessie," and with that prophetic statement, more important to her than the unhappy girl had any way of guessing, Tessie tried for one more "place" to earn a little more money, that she might eventually make her way toward a big city. CHAPTER XIII BROKEN FAITH Following the directions given in her little printed slip cut from the "Help Wanted" column in the Leader, Tessie had no trouble in finding the place offered in such glowing terms. Every sort of inducement was held out in the printed lines, for obtaining help was a problem affording the most original methods of advertising, and each month wages seemed to climb another round in the ladder of higher salaries. The term "wages" went by the boards when the fifty-dollar-a-month notch was knocked in prosperity's payroll. The position, it was not the old time "situation," demanded little of the applicant in the way of reference, and Tessie, already wise in her new craft-knew well a telephone call from Mrs. Elmwood to Mrs. Appleton would be sufficient guarantee of her honesty. She had been strictly honest even to the point of picking up a few scattered dimes, ostensibly dropped accidently, but really set down as "bait" to test her honesty. She was also very wise for so inexperienced a girl. So with affirmative smiles the erstwhile employer engaged the nice-looking, bright-looking young girl, whose olive skin and dark eyes made her pretty, if a bit foreign and rather saucy. "If Dagmar could see me now!" she mocked, patting the lace butterfly cap on her neat hair and smoothing the lace sample of an apron in the most approved screen world style. "This dress must have been made for me, it fits so well," she commented, twirling around in front of the modern mirror furnished in the second maid's room, "and this house suits me very well," with a glance at the fine fixings all about her. "Now for the china and silver. I'll bet I'll surprise this shebang with my knowledge of right and left, and my juggling with the forks and spoons. A new place is all right while it's new, but it gets old awful quick after--well, after pay day." The black dress was stylishly short and gave Tessie a very chic appearance, in fact although she was seventeen years she looked much younger in the uniform, and she knew it. Inevitably among the members of that household were two young girls from the scout troop she had seen drilling that afternoon, and quite as inevitably the table talk was entirely of the drill and other scout activities. It was all so simple after that. There in the sisters' rooms were scout manuals, and these little blue books gave Tessie all the information she needed. Each day while arranging the rooms she was able to learn a lesson, and just when her statement was sure to make the best effect she treated the girls to a story of her "girl scout work." It was just like real fiction to Tessie, while Marcia and Phillis Osborne could hardly believe their pretty puff-hidden ears that they should have right in their own home a real girl scout who had won a merit badge! Tessie positively declined to discuss the "brave deed" she had consummated to obtain that badge, also she refused just as positively to take any part in the scout work of Elmhurst. It was delectable to have the girls beg her to come to drill, and assure her no one need know she was employed as a waitress. But Tessie "adored the pose" as she learned to think herself, and she had no idea of being caught in the official net of a scout meeting, where all sorts of questions might be asked, the answers to which could not even be hinted at in a scout manual. Alma Benitz was the name she chose that night when Frank Apgar escorted her from his "ark" to his mother's hospitality, and that means of identification was serving her beautifully in the home of Mrs. J. Bennington Osborne, Terrace End, Elmhurst. It was all perfectly thrilling and Tessie felt each day she mingled her "better days' smile" with a sob or a grin, for the benefit of her sympathetic spectators, she would have given a week's pay to have Dagmar seen the "hit" she was making. "They'll be giving me French lessons if I don't watch out," she told her looking-glass one night, and the confidential mirror noticed the new girl actually sounded her "gs." Tessie was an apt pupil, but brains more than hands need training to execute exact science of "putting things over" all the time. Also a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, and the weakest link in this adventurer's chain was the fact that she had no means of communicating with her own folks or Dagmar, and receiving any reply from them. She knew her own father too well to risk letting him know anything of her whereabouts, and her two letters to Dagmar could not be answered for lack of address. Now Tessie had new clothes, and she would soon have more money--if only she could get hold of Dagmar, and start off again on that trip to the big city. "Maybe the poor kid's in jail," she reflected. "She's just the kind to get sent up to one of those dumps where they train girls! Train them!" she repeated mockingly. "Swell training a girl gets behind bars! "But it would cost twenty-five dollars for both of us, and I'll never live through earning that here," she followed. This general summing up of the situation took place in her room, the night before her first "afternoon off" and suppose--just suppose she took a bunch of those scout tickets, and went out to the next town and sold them! She might use that money to send to Dagmar and replace it with her next week's pay! So there was the temptation. And she did not realize its dangers. Nothing had ever been easier. Everyone wanted tickets for the Violet Shut-in Benefit and every ticket brought fifty cents to the attractive girl wearing the scout badge of merit. "I call this luck, the kind that grows on bushes," she was thinking, as in that strange town she hurried from door to door with the violet bits of pasteboard that were printed to bring cheer to the Shut Ins. "Of course I'll replace this at once," she also decided. "I wouldn't really touch a cent of this, even for one day, only I must get Daggie out of her trouble wherever she is. It isn't fair to leave her all alone to face the music." Then came the thought of the possible joy she might experience if she could but surprise Phyllis and Marcia with the sale of all their tickets! Still another consideration. Each girl was obliged to sell in a certain territory and she was covering enough ground for the whole troop. "I guess I'm out of luck," she decided, "but this isn't so bad. I believe I'd make a hit as a first rate book agent. Maybe I'll try that next." It was important that all her ground should be covered before the public school would be dismissed, hence she quickened her steps, and she had but two more tickets to dispose of when the rumbling of a jitney attracted her attention. It was Frank Apgar on the high front seat of his Ark. "Without thought of danger, and only the prospect of a pleasant chat with someone she knew, Tessie hailed Frank and climbed to the seat beside him. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you, Frank! How's the good old lady who saved my life? I'll always remember her as my guardian angel. And boy, those flap-jacks!" "Mother's fine and she always asks if I see you. Now I'll have a report to make," and he stared so at Tessie she felt uncomfortable. "What are you looking at?" she asked, her tone of voice condoning the rudeness of her words. "I'm just thinkin' you look a lot like some one I've been asked to watch for. Did you light in from Flosston the night you crawled on this Ark without botherin' the gong or brakes?" For a single second Tessie felt her fright would betray her. Then recovering her poise, with the keen necessity so obvious, she laughed a merry laugh empty in ring, but full enough in volume. "Flosston!" she repeated. "Say, when I get enough money I'm going on an excursion there. I've always had a feeling it must be the original rest cure. But say, Frank, if you want to know more than I can tell you about my history, I have a little book with all the facts in, and even a few baby pictures, I'd like to show you. I have a swell place living out down in Como (opposite direction to the Elmhurst address) and if you tell me what time you're due here tomorrow I'll fetch along my illustrated pedigree!" "Say, Sis, do you think you're funny, or is it some disease you've got?" "No, really, Frank, I'm not fooling. I have an album with my name and all that in it, and when I come out for an airing to-morrow I'll just bring it along." How glad she was she had hidden the scout badge and the two unsold tickets! The velvet bag rather heavy with silver, the proceeds of ticket sales, Tessie handled carefully to avoid jingling. Here was real danger! If Frank should decide she was the girl from Flosston--runaway Tessie Wartliz! "Well, all the same," Frank added, turning on the gas after a slow-down for an old lady with a small boy and a large bundle, "I have some regard for a girl who wants to cut loose and make good. Can't see why a boy always gets away with it, and a girl is slammed behind the shutters if she happens to disagree with the opinions of the town council on the sort of toothbrush best for grown girls! Now, Alma, I promised Jim Cosgrove I'd keep a lookout, and sure thing you do tally with his illustrated funny page he's been handin' out every trip I made since that stowaway ride. I'm durned glad I didn't mention the stowaway. He'd be apt to tear the gears apart to make sure you're not distributed in the lubricating oil. He is sure set on findin' the girl who gave him the slip. Can't stand a little thing like that against his golden record." Tessie determined to slip off the car at the next side street, and make a detour to hide the route she must take to return to the Osborne home. "Well, so long, Frank. Here's where I detrain. Maybe I'll see you to-morrow. Give my love to your mother, and I hope you find the runaway girl," and she waved a merry good-bye that seemed to burn the tips of the fingers she shook it from. Tessie was frightened, she was panic stricken! The whole situation was becoming more and more dangerous! She was using an assumed name, she had run away from home, she had deceived the girl scouts, had sold their tickets and--oh, what would she do now if Frank should tell that officer! Just in time to don her black dress and white cap, Tessie reached the Osborne home. She was so nervous the silver rattled and the china clicked, but the color in her cheeks was ascribed to the "long walk" she had taken "away out Pembroke way." During dinner Marcia and Phyllis talked continuously about the benefit, and made all their plans for ticket selling. It would be a notable benefit. Later that evening Mrs. Osborne paid Tessie her first week's wages and complimented her on her "splendid service." She was a woman imbued with the wisdom of a keen appreciation of values, and she knew well the value of encouragement to a young girl like Tessie, but the latter was very miserable, and could scarcely hide the fact. Now why did the ghost of a small mistake have to haunt her just when everything looked so rosy? If only her mother and father could be counted on for a reasonable understanding of the whole matter, but the loss of their daughter's wages for so long would surely enrage the avaricious father and anger the unreasonable mother. Not much hope crept into poor Tessie's heart as late that night she packed her little bag, and with many misgivings, overcome only by the strongest resolutions to pay back the money, did she put the ticket proceeds beside her week's wages in the well-worn purse. The scout badge fairly begged her to reconsider. Its little wreath and clover emblem, the meaning of which Tessie had learned from Marcia's manual, mutely pleaded the cause of honor, and urged her to sacrifice instead of deceit. But Tessie was frightened and untrained, so that the new reverence, with which she folded that badge in her best ironed handkerchief, was not yet strong enough to call louder than the voice of mockery which hissed of dangers and threatened disgrace. It was very early next morning that the dew on the hedge was shocked by a passing form making a rude getaway through the hawthorne blossoms, and not even the gardener saw the girl who jumped across the little creek instead of passing over the rustic bridge. "Something has happened to that girl," insisted Mrs. Osborne. "I am not often mistaken, and I know she is not a common thief. Marcia and Phyllis, you may refund the ticket money privately, and I will consult with father about following up the child." This was the verdict in the Osborne home upon the complex discovery of stolen tickets and missing maid; but in spite of the mother's warning, some one must have trusted some one else with the story, for a brief account was used in the LEADER that night. So this was the story that surprised the Girl Scouts of Flosston and shocked Rose Dixon. Surely the strings of our mythical May-pole are winding in a circle of promise and surprise, for Tessie is gone and Rose is going! Coincidently, out in Flosston our own little girl scouts, Cleo, Grace and Madaline, are worrying their pretty little heads over the mystery of the woodsman who wrote the queer letter. Would they risk writing and awaiting a reply from the hiding place in the dark little cave of the hollow stone? CHAPTER XIV WOODLAND MAGIC "Oh come on, girls! Don't bother waiting for the big girls. They're going to drill. I can't wait to see the letter, Cleo. Did you get Hal Crane? And will he surely take it for us?" It was Grace who, dragging Cleo and attempting to lasso Madaline with her book strap, besought her friends to hide away from their companions that they might read the wonderful letter, and then dispatch it to its post box under the stone in the River Bend Woods. "I'm so excited," Grace confessed. "I honestly do feel, girls, something wonderful will come from our woodman mystery. His letter proves he is nice." "So you have given up the tramp idea, Grace," Cleo smilingly remarked. "I'm glad of that. I didn't just fancy writing my best stationery letters to some hobo." "I'm perfectly sure he is a nice clean man," declared Grace, "for there wasn't a smudge on that little note, and I have noticed since that the paper is a fine quality. Oh, I am perfectly sure he is a very nice young man," and the bright-eyed, pink-cheeked girl laughed at her own deductions. "But Mrs. Johnston's wash?" Madaline reminded her. "What about that?" "Why, perhaps he didn't steal that at all. He might even have rescued the bag from a real tramp," replied the resourceful Grace. "Hal is going to meet us at three-thirty down at the stone wall," injected Cleo, "and if you girls want to see this letter before he flies off with it you had best come along. Of course he is coming on his bicycle." "Oh, yes, let's hear it," pleaded Grace. "I'm sure it's splendid. I never could have answered that note myself." Cleo accepted the compliment and the three little second-grade scouts hurried along in the direction of the young willows, behind which an ancient stone wall gave historic prestige to the now modern Flosston. Nimbly they sprang the wall and quickly they devoured the letter. It read, from the hands of Grace, as follows: "DEAR WOODSMAN: We girl scouts of True Tred Troop have decided to answer your letter. Perhaps you need friends. If you do, could we help you? Our rules oblige us to assist all fellow beings in distress. Are you in need of help? You see, we not only can assist others, but in doing so we earn promotion. When one of us tied you up she thought it was brave to do so, but now we feel that may have been a mistake." Grace paused. She did not like the idea of admitting a mistake even thus remotely. "Couldn't we leave that out?" she asked Cleo. "Why, no, how could we apologize and expect to make friends with him if we didn't try to fix that tieing-up business?" Cleo inquired. "Oh, all right. I like the letter, Cleo. I was only wondering if we couldn't forget that. I'll read the rest. Where was I? Oh, yes, now listen!" and she continued: "If there is any way we can help you or if you know any girls who would like to join our troop, please leave another letter in this same place. "Very truly, THREE GIRLS OF TRUE TRED." There was no time to discuss the last few paragraphs, for Hal Crane was now seen flying along the macadam road. "Be sure he knows just where to go," Cleo warned Grace, who had sealed the letter and now stood waiting the courier. "What's the idea, anyhow?" demanded Hal. "Isn't the post-office good enough for your troop?" "Oh, you see, Hal," Grace explained, "maybe our friend can't leave the woods." "Got something the matter that makes him hide out there, and you don't mind exposing me to it?" Hal was laughing good-naturedly. He evidently was just as keen on the adventure as were the girls. "Now, you have promised to keep our secret, you know, Hal, and we are sure we will find out something awfully interesting if he answers this letter." "Suppose he gobbles me up?" returned the big boy, thrusting out his right arm expectantly. "Oh, you know you have scoured and scouted these woods lots of times, and I suppose you know every squirrel by name," Madaline said. "But go on, Hal, and we'll wait here for you till you come back. There may be another letter under the stone," and her cheeks fairly burned in anticipation. "Well, so long! Take a good look at me, girls. Your cave man may turn me into a monkey or some other forest creature," and waving his free hand, Hal Crane sped off like the modern boy-scout courier he was. "Nothing could possibly happen to him, do you think?" Grace asked just a little anxiously. The memory of her own thrilling experience in those woods had grown to something like a big black shadow that dragged from her the bag supposed to contain Mrs. Johnston's wash. And Grace also recalled the mysterious note pointed out the fact that the writer still held on to the historic piece of rope Grace had left around the figure at the tree, and, just suppose the man should take revenge on Hal! "Oh, goosey!" Cleo replied to her expressed fear. "Don't you suppose a boy scout like Hal can take care of himself! Why, when the men went out hunting for little Angelo Botana, Hal was the very bravest of all. He even waded in the swamp knee deep when the men couldn't manage the big drag nets. Why, Hal is as strong as any man," Cleo valiantly insisted. It was not now a simple matter for the scout girls to occupy their time while awaiting the return of the messenger, even walking the stone wall, and jumping the breaks, usually a popular pastime, seemed flat and uninteresting now to them. "Let's hunt four-leaf clovers," suggested Madaline, "and we will give any we find to Captain Clark as a new pledge, like our own clover-leaf badge." "But ours are three-leaf, not four," Cleo reminded her. "Suppose we hunt the oddest, the prettiest, and the biggest number of varieties? See these lovely variegated ones. They come with the pink blossoms. We might mount a whole display of leaves on one of brother's butterfly glasses. I think it would do for a nature study, also." "Oh, yes, that's a perfectly splendid idea," applauded Grace. "I haven't added a single discovery to my list this whole week." So absorbed did they become in this newly invented task no one noticed a wheel-chair being driven along the pleasant country footpath. In the chair was a little girl about the age of the scouts--perhaps fourteen years. Her pretty face betrayed not the slightest hint of the infirmity which compelled her to recline in that chair, in fact her cheeks were as pink as the much-lauded color Grace was so often complimented upon, but which to herself seemed rudely healthy. Directly in line with the three scouts who were crawling through the grass, hunting clovers, the nurse propelling the chair drew her little passenger to the roadside and stopped. All the girls hunched up on their knees like human "bunnies" and the little girl in the wheel chair laughed outright. Cleo stared her surprise. "Oh, please excuse me for laughing," spoke the child, "but you look too cunning--just like--like colored animals," she faltered. Cleo smiled her forgiveness, while at that moment Madaline shouted the find of the first four-leaf clover. "And such a lovely big fat one!" she qualified, now skipping over the tall grasses quite kangaroo fashion. "A four-leaf clover!" exclaimed the girl in the wheel chair as her nurse moved on. "Oh, why didn't we show it to her!" lamented Cleo. "She can't walk to pick them!" "But she didn't tell us who she was," objected Grace. "I don't care. I'm just going to run after her and give her this four-leaf clover," declared the warm-hearted Madaline. "I think we were awfully stiff and snippy," and without waiting for approval she hurried after the disappearing chair, just as it turned into the avenue. "Would you like this!" offered Madaline, almost breathless as she overtook the two strangers. "Oh, I should love it!" exclaimed the little girl, the sincerity in her voice and expression vouching for the truth of her simple words. Madaline wanted to say something else, but feared to touch on the delicate subject of the little girl's infirmity. So she merely smiled, and said she could find plenty more, and that she was a girl scout doing a little nature work. "Oh, a girl scout!" exclaimed the little invalid, her eyes fairly blazing enthusiasm. "Yes," replied Madaline, edging away. "We have a lot of fun being scouts. Good-bye!" and she ran off without affording herself a chance to say anything else. "Did she take it!" asked Grace unnecessarily. "Yes, and she just loved it. But I couldn't think what to say, and I said we had fun in being scouts, when I saw she couldn't move for any kind of fun. Wasn't that awful?" wailed Madaline. "No," the practical Cleo assured her embarrassed companion. "It is always well to speak of scout work. Perhaps she will take an interest in it now. But look! Here comes Hal. Oh, I wonder what news he has!" The girl in the wheel chair was quickly forgotten with the approach of the boy. "Oh, he has a letter! See how he wags his head!" exclaimed Grace. "Yep, I got one!" the boy called, now near enough to make himself heard. "Do I hear the good news?" he inquired, handing over the yellow envelope. "It's for me!" Grace insisted, making sure of the prize. "It's addressed to the 'Scout Bandit'" announced Hal. "I don't know that I would stand for that, Grace," but the girl, nervously attempting to open the yellow envelope, paid no attention to the insinuation. "Thank you so much, Hal," Cleo had the politeness to express. "Come on over to the bridge, and maybe we will tell you what's in the letter." "No, thank you," he refused. "I'm due at a baseball practice and late now. So long, girls. Hope you make your points, whatever they are, by all that woodland stuff," and with commendable disregard for possible thrills, Hal turned his wheel in the direction of the ball field. Now what girl could possibly have resisted the chance of sharing the woodland secret? Yet, being a boy, Hal ignored the offer and happily raced off to his belated ball practice. "We can all squat down in this patch of grass," suggested Madaline, who, as yet, had not even glimpsed the envelope Grace had passed on to Cleo. "Do let's read it!" she begged impatiently. "All right!" and Grace did squat down beside the others on the little patch of grass that hung over the deep gutter. "Now listen!" (Needless admonition.) "'Little Bandits,'" she began, "'if you find this I will know you are going to play our game. First I must tell you I have to keep my identity secret for some time yet. My reason for doing so is a worthy one, which I will some day make clear to you. But I am not a lazy tramp, nor a wild woodsman in the ordinary sense, so, if you will keep faith, we can play a wonderful game.'" Grace paused and breathed audibly. "There!" she exclaimed. "I knew he would be nice." "After you decided not to have him a horrid old tramp," teased Madaline. "Oh, read it, Grace," Cleo insisted. "What does he want us to do?" She resumed reading the rather broad sheet that might have been called typewriter paper, if the girls had been familiar with its style. "Let me see. Oh, yes. 'Will you do something for me?'" she continued reading. "'If you have any little book of your rules and plans, and if you will leave one in the hollow stone for me, some day I will repay you for your confidence. "'Your victim, "'THE MAN BY THE TREE.'" "Oh, what can he want a scout book for?" eagerly asked Grace, folding the letter. "We couldn't give it, without permission--unless, it would be too bad to give away our secret to get permission," pouted Grace. "We might get permission without telling all about it," suggested Cleo adroitly. "We could say we wanted to influence a stranger, and besides, anyone can buy a manual in the stores." "Of course," decided Madaline, happy that the secret would not be spoiled. "Perhaps he wants--" "To be a scout!" roared Grace in one of her gales of laughter. "Wouldn't it be too funny if he were to fall in love with Captain Clark!" "And marry her!" topped off Cleo. "Then your noble deed, Grace, would be noble indeed," added Madaline. "I guess Miss Clark can marry whom she pleases. She's very pretty." "And her dad is rich too, so I don't believe we can solve our mystery that way," finished Cleo, and none of the three had quite decided just how she would like to end it when the five o'clock bell from the "Home" out Clinton way chimed a warning hour. "So late!" exclaimed Grace, "and I have to practice before tea." "And I have to help mother, for Martha's out," added Madaline. "Let's run," suggested Cleo, and those who happened to see the trio scampering along never could have guessed they guarded so carefully the mystery of the woodsman's letter. CHAPTER XV VENTURE TROOP The girls of Franklin Mills were finally organized and began work just as Molly Cosgrove had planned. Venture Troop immediately became a band of active, enthusiastic and withal capable girls, bringing to the scout movement a new vigor and promise, the result of individual self-discipline and the indispensible power of personal responsibility. It must be understood here that girls employed in factories may lack social education, but they are always more self-reliant, more capable of handling emergencies and difficulties, and more surely skilled in precision and mechanical accuracy than are the girls of same age situated in the more fortunate walks of life, the difference in comparison being always in favor of normal conditions, and general education, because of the balance and mental ability acquired through our modern schools and progressive methods. But the mill girl is never an inferior, and in the exact science of skill, she can easily and at any time outdistance the most brilliant high-school graduate, for skill is her education, and she handles, and fingers, and computes sometimes many thousands of delicate threads, or intricate bits of metal, the slightest fumble of which might throw out of gear a powerful machine. This is applied mathematics, is it not? She uses no pencil nor paper, but counts by allowing one line to overlap another at every five hundred cards, done in some fine print work, and when ten five hundred cards show that almost invisible margin, she knows she has pasted five thousand! Thus we may realize at the outset that the Venture Troop of Franklin Scouts comprises a formidable array of certain talent, and this must be respected, while education in broader lines is recorded through our little story. Rose now felt her responsibility with a thrill of delight. Even her anxiety concerning Tessie was allayed in this newly found service. It was no longer a question of one girl, but the matter of many; nor would Rose attempt to desert her post as patrol leader, when the young, eager, enthusiastic members of that troop looked to her for a leadership expected from one who so thoroughly understood their characters. Lieutenant Cosgrove, now Captain of the Venture Troop, had impressed upon the girl her duties in leading, gently but firmly, along the scout lines, which had been modified to fit in reasonably with the scheme of Americanization. While it was perfectly true that the parents of Rose would welcome her in the Connecticut town, they had not urged her to leave Franklin, in fact a late letter hinted labor conditions around the Brodix family were not as yet all satisfactorily adjusted, but Dagmar (Rose) "could come if she wanted to," her brother had written. This meant it would be wise for her not to go just yet. Leaving the meeting room that evening after the organization, and in company with a number of her patrol, Rose quite forgot Tessie, and the stigma of publicity concerning that ticket money, and the possible unlawful use of the lost merit badge. Buzzing like bees, asking volumes of questions, and pouring out enough suggestions to furnish programmes for troops rather than planning for a single patrol, the girls surrounded Rose with such confidence as to almost sweep the little blonde off her feet. Perhaps her intimacy with Captain Cosgrove placed her in this preferred class, at any rate as a patrol leader Rose found herself both popular and influential. Mary Furniss insisted on planning a hike for the following Saturday afternoon. Dora Silber believed a long trolley ride would be more enjoyable, while Mona Markovitz urged the formation of a girls' ball team to rival the players of Branchville. "It's just like having our own union," remarked Jennie Dupre, a pretty little Canadian, "only we are sure to be safe from picket duty in the scouts." "We're not either," corrected Marie Engelka. "We may have to patrol in case of any local trouble. Wouldn't we look swell in our uniforms?" and she marched on ahead with arm thrust bolt upright in lieu of a gun, while Dora Silber sounded the tattoo of a drum on Mona Markowitz's new straw sailor hat. Mona was short and had to stand the consequences. "And all the brave things we have to do! Say, Rose, what did you do to get by all those tests?" demanded Erica Jentz. "Oh, I just studied," faltered Rose, "and then I did without things to send money to the folks. I don't like to talk about sacrifices, but I am only trying to show you what you can do to make good," she finished rather lamely. There was one brave act Rose longed to accomplish, but just then the chances for its undertaking seemed remote. "Our folks better watch out," cautioned Mary Furniss, "I'm to learn bed-making, and I have to leave home at six-thirty. That means an early dumping for sister Jane, who goes to English School. We always used to call her Jennie, but now she's Jane," and Mary mocked the plain American title with a shrill rising inflection. "Wasn't it funny how we all laughed on the question of earning fifty cents," remarked Jeanette. "Looked as if we thought earning money was a big joke." "No, that wasn't it, Jean," corrected Dora. "It was making it fifty cents. Why, that wouldn't tip the 'chink' who irons our shirtwaists," and the original laugh was encored. "Are your folks all gone from Flosston, Rose?" Mary Furniss inquired, just as the little procession was about to break ranks for respective individual "barracks." "Oh, yes. Father got good work in Connecticut, and I may go soon," replied Rose frankly. "You've got a swell boardin' house," commented Nora Noon, the one Irish girl in the new patrol, "and I heard some one say Mrs. Cosgrove was going to start a big lunch-counter for us girls. They call it a cafeteria. Can you picture little Nora sittin' up against anything like that for her corned beef and cabbage!" and the joke epidemic went the usual rounds. "If anyone could make a lunch counter go, it surely ought to be Mrs. Cosgrove," affirmed Erica Jentz, "for she just keeps her tea-pot going all the time, and my mother says she never lets her cake run out for fear some one would come in between meals." "Well, it's a sure thing if they come in at meals, they need cake, and if they come in between meals they would be glad to have cake, so it seems to me on that plan Mrs. Cosgrove must need a home bakery," analyzed Dora Silber. "But I'll say, girls, a cafeteria, whatever it is, would be lots better than a lunch-box, and I hope we get it. So long, scouts. Here's where I turn in. Rose, I'll be ready for drill any time you say, if I'm not eatin' or sleepin'. Don't worry about the other 'dooties' of life. S'long, girls! Olive-oil, Jean! That's French for good-bye, isn't it?" and while Jean insisted au revoir was no relation to the term used, the girls paired off, and left Rose with Nora to finish her two more blocks to the Cosgrove cottage. "I think it will be great for all of us," Nora conceded. "You know, Rose, they're all a jolly lot, but they don't have a great deal of fun. They can laugh at almost anything, but that's because they're so healthy and good natured. I often lend them books. Father has a lot of them, and I do believe our club will be just the thing for all of us," and the girl called Irish, but who was really a solid little American, emphasized her statement by kicking over the only loose stone in the well-tended driveway that bordered the "big house" at Oak Corners. "Yes, I think it will be fine," agreed Rose. "But I hope I will be able to--to be a wise leader," she qualified. "That's why Captain Cosgrove selected you," said Nora. "We are to be self-governing, and every member must be a business girl. That's better than being just mill girls," Nora declared. "But it's lots nicer to have a leader who just knows all about us. It will give the girls more courage and all that! Don't you worry about being wise enough. If there is anything to be learned you can count on a double quick education from us, Rosie. Good-night. Tell Mrs. Cosgrove we can smell the doughnuts all ready!" and Nora skipped off in the direction of a gentle light that shone from the reading lamp of Thomas Noon, one time caretaker of a famous Celtic estate, but now plain worker as gateman in Franklin Silk Mills. Alone for the few moments occupied in reaching the Cosgrove's home, Rose turned the problem of Tessie over and over in her troubled mind. She felt keenly the need of confidence, but could not bring herself to tell this story now to Molly Cosgrove. "How could I make her understand why I delayed all this time?" she reflected. "No, I must wait for another letter. Perhaps I'll get one to-morrow. Anyhow our new troop is just fine, and I mean to be a real patrol leader," decided the girl, imbued with the same enthusiasm that seemed to permeate the entire girl-scout movement. Have you ever been called upon to lead others? Do you know the joy of using your own personal power in a well-organized and carefully directed plan? If so, you may share the enthusiasm of Rose Dixon, the young patrol leader of Venture Troop of Girl Scouts. Back once more with her own congenial companions, she almost wished she had not so altered her name. True, Rose Dixon was not far removed from Dagmar Rosika Brodix. Rose was Rosika, and Dixon from the last syllable of Brodix with the usual suffix "on" did not really seem so far from the original, and in the sensational days, when the two towns were stirred up with the gossip of the runaway girls, the change seemed the only plan, but now Rose felt a shadow of deceit in the use of the American name. "At the same time," she decided finally, "lots of people change to more simple-sounding names, and it was better to start out without that mistake following me. I suppose Tessie has changed her name as often as she does her sleeping places. Poor girl! I do wish she could come back and get a start such as I have." And another girl in another town was thinking just that in another way. CHAPTER XVI MORE MYSTERIES "I know what we'll do," decided Grace as the three young scouts discussed the secret correspondence with the man o' the woods. "We must tell Margaret Slowden. She knows best and Margy wonders what we are whispering about all the time." "Yes," promptly agreed Madaline. "I think that is the best plan. Margaret said the other day we were acting as if we had a troop of our own instead of being True Treds." "We would be perfectly safe in telling Margaret," Cleo followed. "And she can help us best because she has already received a merit badge." "And lost it," added Grace. "Received another," amended Madaline. "I feel a little timid about all the woodsy part," admitted Cleo, "because we haven't any way of finding out about our cave man except spying on him, and that would be so risky it would demerit instead of meriting us. You know we all had to promise to be prudent," she finished. "But we won't tell the twins," Grace restricted, "that would spoil the whole secret." So it was arranged that Margaret Slowden should be admitted to the inner circle, and after school that afternoon the marvelous story was told. Margaret finally gasped. She swallowed something like a tiny bug with the intake. The girls were all squatted in the little tepee made from the school-house shutters, and Margaret always chewed clovers and sweet grass. After a coughing fit she was able to hear the remainder of the weird story of Grace and her man o' the woods. "And why couldn't you see him?" demanded Margaret. "Why!" exclaimed the indignant Grace. "Do you think you would be able to take notes on appearances with a coil of rope in one hand and a big slip knot ready to work off in the other, when you had to run around a tree without waking the man!" "But what did he look like?" demanded the inquisitor. "All I could see was feet--no, it was shoes--and a hat pulled down." "All movie men have their hats pulled down," interrupted Margaret. "Maybe some one was working a camera on the other side of a tree." "You're just horrid, Margaret," Grace pouted, "and I won't tell you another word about it!" "Why, Grace, I'm not teasing! You know, all big things like that turn out to be movie stunts--making the pictures, you know. Although, of course, your mystery may be real. But what are you going to do about it?" "We planned to send the scout book just as, he asked, and then wait, also as he asked, until something happens we don't know what. Then we expect he will reveal his identity," and this last clause had a very dignified tone to the girlish ears. "That seems perfectly all right," Margaret rendered her verdict, "and none of our rules in any way could oppose that. The only thing is, we girls would be obliged to shun the woods because we are ordered, you know, to avoid unnecessary danger, and cave men are supposed to be very wild and woozy." Details were all finally arranged, and Hal Crane was to pay one more trip to the woods, there to deposit the small blue book of scout data in the big hollow of the charmed rock. "Suppose he turns out to be some great man who might give us a new park or something like that," ventured Madaline rather hazily, "then we would all come in for honors, wouldn't we?" "I would rather come in for the park," Cleo inserted. "We need a few more if we are going to do much drilling this summer." "That man might be a writer, camping out there, who wants material," speculated Margaret. "You know, the River Bend Wood is considered very romantic. An artist painted the falls once." "Too snaky for camping, though," objected Cleo. "Well, at any rate, girls, we have got to practice wig-wagging this afternoon, so let's wiggle along. Have you heard all about the Venture Troop, of Franklin? That awfully pretty little blonde girl, who was at our meeting one night, you know, is a patrol leader, and they have wonderful things planned." "I heard something the other day that gave me the creeps," confessed Margaret. "I wasn't going to say anything about it, but since you all have mysteries, I might as well share mine." "Oh, what's it about? Scout stuff?" demanded Grace, her cheeks toning up to the excitement key. "Yes, of course. You all remember the night I lost my precious badge? Well, that was the same night two girls ran away from Flosston. Mother offered all sorts of rewards for the return of my badge, for I did prize it so," and the brown eyes glinted topaz gleams at the memory. "Oh, yes. We called it your D. S. C. because you got it for guarding the cloakroom the night your brother received his decoration," recalled Cleo. "Yes, and it was very strange in this town, where every one knew all about it, that I never heard from it since," went on Margaret with a show of considerable importance. "Now here is my mystery. One day last week I received an anonymous letter, just two lines long. It said, 'Don't give up. You will get your badge back some day soon.' Now, why, do you suppose, anyone who has it is holding it?" "Maybe some of the boys just playing a joke," suggested Grace. "Oh, no, the boys wouldn't wait all this time for their joke; besides, there's no fun in that," analyzed Margaret. "Please don't say anything about it, girls, but since you told me your secret, I thought I ought to tell you mine. There come the other girls. Come on for the wig-wagging. I just love to stand up on the library steps and wave. Hope Captain Clark gives me that place," and the quartette were off to join forces with others of the True Treds, with their signal flags of red and white. It was usual to have spectators on wig-wagging practice days, and this afternoon an unusual number seemed to take time to stop and notice the picturesque scouts. The troop girls had worn their uniforms, to school that afternoon, so as to be ready for an early start, and in the glorious sunshine, striking in golden rays through the deep green elms for which the village was noted, the troop girls, with their signal flags, made an attractive picture. Captain Clark stood far off on a mound of green, waving her "questions," and each girl answered the code as the messages were relayed and transmitted. The younger girls were promptly qualifying, and it was very evident the coming tests for higher degrees would find our especial little friends ready to advance. Coming down from the terraces where they had been stationed, Grace and Cleo observed a handsome limousine drawn up to the curb where the occupants could have viewed the wig-wagging to advantage. "Oh, there's that lovely girl that was in the wheel-chair!" exclaimed Madaline. "I believe she would speak to us if she were near enough," commented Cleo. "What a stunning car!" added Madaline. "What a pity the little girl cannot walk." "That's about the way generally," finished Cleo vaguely. "But run! There go Margaret and Winnie McKay," and the bright-eyed, pink-cheeked child, so eagerly watching the girl scouts through the open window of the big gray car, was soon forgotten in the more urgent demands of the wig-wag report. The lesson had been noted "Satisfactory" and Captain Clark had good reason to be proud of her True Treds. CHAPTER XVII JACQUELINE The words of Frank Apgar still rang in the frightened ears of Tessie, when she stole away from the Osborne place, so very early the following morning. Now her continued failures were assuming discouraging proportions indeed, and she knew the result of "borrowing" that ticket money. She could never hope for a good word of recommendation from Mrs. Osborne, and without it she could not obtain employment. To seek work in the mills now would be equivalent to throwing herself on the mercy of the public, for she knew perfectly well every mill had been notified to watch for her. To her obsessed mind her faults were now serious beyond belief--she had actually stolen money! What at first seemed a mere matter of "borrowing" until she could work one more little week to pay it back, had suddenly become a crime impossible to atone. Desperately she tramped through the long country roads, tugging her bag, using it often as a stool to rest on. No one noticed the girl--maids often left employment in Elmhurst and journeyed out to the trolley line just as she was doing. Childish laughter and the capering of a very white toy poodle dog attracted Tessie's attention, as she stopped in front of the entrance to a very handsome estate. Through the iron rails of a very high fence could be seen the girl responsible for the silvery laughter. She was seated in a small wheel-chair, and at her feet lay a young man lounging on the velvet grass, that was cropped so close the blades looked like a woven tapestry of magic green. "Now, Jack," Tessie heard the young man say, "I will do all the things thou badest me, but please don't ask a fellow to climb trees. I'm too big for the limbs, and I should hate to break the pretty branches. Necks don't count, of course." His voice was so jolly Tessie listened behind the iron post of the open gateway. "Well, all right, Prince Charming. I won't ask you to climb the tree, but Jerry--I can hardly wait. Oh, isn't it too wonderful?" and the pretty little girl clapped her hands quite like any ordinary youngster. Here was Tessie's chance. These were a different sort of people and perhaps they would take her on without any reference! Acting on the moment's impulse, she picked her bag up and entered the gate. The young man sat bolt upright and seemed inclined to laugh. "Oh, wherever did you come from?" asked the girl in the chair. "We were just telling fairy stories," and she smiled as if Tessie had been a sequence to the tale. "I'm looking for work," spoke Tessie bravely, "and this seemed such a big place, do you know if they need any extra help?" The child shot a volley of meaning glances at the young man. Anyone could have interpreted the code as signifying interest and pleasure. "We would have to consult the housekeeper," the young man answered quickly. He gave his head a defiant toss, contradicting the joy expressed by his sister. "Oh, but perhaps--" faltered the girl. "Gerald, don't you think maybe you and I might manage to take this nice girl to work? I'd just love to have a very young person to talk to when I can't have you," and the big blue eyes rolled oceans of appeal into the face of the handsome brother. "Jack, you know I'm your slave," he answered. "But even I cannot always manage Mrs. Bennet. But we can ask her," smiling at Tessie. "Come along!" He sprang to his position at the wheel-chair. "Mrs. Bennet should be glad enough to grant any favor on so perfect a morning." "Then don't forget our plans, Jerry," the sister cautioned mysteriously. "If it all works out as I am dreaming, brother, oh, what a glorious time we will have! Come on"--to Tessie--"I'm just going to make Mrs. Bennet take you on. She's awfully particular, but since I haven't been able to walk I just impose on brother Gerald. And he has been so kind," patting the hand resting round her chair, "and couldn't you and I have good times together? What shall I call you?" she asked naively. "Stacia Wertz," replied Tessie, assuming another name to cover her knowledge of the Osborne situation. "That's from Anastasia, isn't it?" "Now, Jacqueline," spoke the brother, "I have to run in town early this morning, so if we are going to storm the Bennet we had best mass for the attack. Suppose we sit here," as they reached a rustic bench, "and prepare our story." A half-hour later, in spite of all protests from the particular Mrs. Bennet, who as housekeeper for Gerald Douglass and his young sister Jacqueline, had good reason to value her reputation, Tessie (now Stacia) was engaged. Her especial duties were to be with Jacqueline, and Mrs. Bennet deplored to Mr. Gerald the fact that this young girl brought no reference. "But she is so young, Margaret," he had replied. "I am sure we can supervise. And you know, Jack has been taking a lot of my time lately. Yet the doctor says her ultimate cure depends on her cheerful frame of mind, and she is getting along so beautifully. He expects to try the strength of her limbs in ten days more." It was this arrangement that won the day for Tessie, and once more the black clouds of anxiety rolled away to disclose a rift of new interest, and a gleam of new-found joy. No one could touch the life of Jacqueline Douglass without sharing its delight. The child, temporarily disabled through an acute ailment, had been enjoying every delight her handsome big brother could procure for her, and even in this almost unbelievable paradise "Jack" remained unspoiled, and her active brain was still capable of inventing new wonders. The home was nothing short of paradise to Tessie. Even the lovely Osborne home seemed unimportant compared with Glenmoor, the country estate of wealthy Gerald Douglass and his pet sister. The house was of stone and brick, its trimmings beautifully grained oak and its decorations, all in mellow golds and browns, were as soft yet as varied as the tones of the early chestnut burr. Jacqueline was a russet blonde, just gold enough in her hair to deepen the glints, and with the blue eyes and that incomparable complexion so often associated with "red gold hair," it seemed to Tessie nature had been very partial indeed in bestowing her gifts when Jacqueline Douglass was fashioned. It was the second day of her service at Glenmore that Tessie overheard her young mistress use the name "Marcia" when calling over the telephone. "Marcia! Might it be Marcia Osborne!" Tessie almost gasped. Then when she heard further a "good-bye, and Jacqueline hoped they would all have a lovely trip west," Tessie breathed freely. Yes, the Osbornes had planned a trip west, and no doubt they were going. This seemed to Tessie rare good luck. Marcia, Phillis and Mrs. Osborne were surely off for their trip. "Now I'm going to write Dagmar," decided Tessie--"poor little kid! I feel like a quitter to have left her alone all this time. I wonder if I couldn't go out there and look for her? Everything seems to be blown over, and even mother and father might be glad to see me." With a girl's unqualified impulse, Tessie quickly wrote an effectionate letter to her mother and sealed in it a five-dollar bill. This would surely prepare the way. Then she wrote a second letter, this one to Dagmar, care of the Flosston post-office, and as the mail for Rose Dixon and Dagmar Brodix was promptly mailed to Mrs. Cosgrove at Franklin, Tessie planned better than she knew in hoping thus to reach her abandoned companion. Her letters finished, Tessie (for the time Stacia) slipped down the palatial hall to the door of Jacqueline's sunset room, to inquire if the young mistress needed any attention. It was one of those prolonged days in early summer when night seems unable to break in on the soft, pelucent shadows of sunset meeting twilight. Tessie found Jacqueline sitting in her Sleepy Hollow chair, the shaded green robes tossed about giving the picture such tones as a pastel might embody. "Oh, do come in, Stacia," called Jacqueline. "I am just reading this girl scout manual and can't understand these signal tests. Did you ever see one of these manuals?" and again Tessie was confronted with the persistent little blue book which had so conspicuously affected her life. "I have something you would just love!" exclaimed Tessie, taking impulse from Jacqueline's enthusiasm. "I--that is, a friend of mine found it. It's a merit medal," she had declared almost before she realized what she was about. "Oh, a real merit badge?" asked Jacqueline. "Not really a genuine badge of merit? Those are all registered and can only be used by the original owners." "I'll show you," agreed Tessie, and now there was no turning back. The girl, too helpless to share in scout activities, was examining and fondling that merit badge a moment later, and seeing her delight, Tessie felt amply repaid for her generosity. "I'll tell you!" decided the child, pinning the little wreathed clover leaf on her silk negligee, "I'll keep it carefully, and every day you and I can make our scout pledges. Then, when I know you long enough to be awfully sure you understand it, I am going to let you into a wonderful secret. Won't that be splendid?" and her blue eyes begged confidence from the brown eyes, as both girls thrilled with scout magic. "Oh, yes, I would love to know your secret," Tessie felt obliged to reply, "and maybe some day we will find the girl who lost the badge." This ended the transfer of the much-prized emblem, and in giving its story Tessie succeeded in covering the detail of locality by vaguely stating "a girl friend found it and gave it to her." So Jacqueline had no means of knowing of its connection with the Girl Scouts of True Tred Troop. That night Tessie felt a peculiar relief. It was as if some great burden had been lifted from her. To give to dear Jacqueline anything worthy of her was in itself a thing worth doing, and to make good use of the badge was also an important consideration. "I never had any luck since I carried that around with me!" she decided, but that was a false statement. There never is, nor never was any question of "luck." The real fact of the matter was simply that Tessie, while in possession of the little badge, was continually reminded of its purpose, and the ideals it stood for, so that in her rather reckless career the emblem confronted her with constant mute appeal. Meanwhile, Jacqueline refused the urgent demands of her nurse that she retire. "No, nursie dear. Do be lovely to me tonight," she pleaded, "and let me wait for Jerry. I have the most glorious news for him." "If all of this nonsense does you good, Jacqueline, I am sure I shall not oppose it," replied the nurse. "But personally, it is beyond my experience. There is Mr. Gerald now. Just ring when you want me." So Jacqueline was left to tell the handsome big brother about her wonderful acquisition. The merit badge of True Tred Troop! CHAPTER XVIII DAISIES AND DANGERS In the week following Tessie made a number of acquaintances about Glenmoor, not the least among such being Frank Pierson, the grocer boy, and glad to see a young girl on the big estate, Frank promptly asked Tessie to take a ride out in the country with him some afternoon, and quite as promptly, Tessie accepted the invitation. "I have to deliver out Flosston way tomorrow," said Frank. "What do you say to coming along?" "Flosston!" repeated Tessie. She hesitated. Would she risk taking a look at the town in the mill end of which were still located the deserted members of her family? "What's the matter? Don't you want to go?" pressed Frank, as she withheld her reply. "Oh, yes, of course I'll go," Tessie answered then, and having said she would go, the question of caution seemed to have solved itself. After all, the grocer would have no business in the factory district, and it would be so good to see the familiar places again. Since her coming to Jacqueline's everything seemed so much brighter, her old fears of capture and perhaps detention in a corrective institution, had almost disappeared, and the prospect of a country ride with Frank Pierson afforded pleasant speculation indeed. "You may bring me a big bunch of daisies," Jacqueline told her, in granting permission for the afternoon out. "Since you came I have almost lost Jerry. But then, he was so very good, I am sure he should have been given a vacation." The little grocery wagon did not have to delay for its passenger when next afternoon Prank, with a clean blouse and his cap at exactly the right tilt, called to deliver goods and "collect" Tessie. Starting out along the broad avenue, Gyp, the brown horse, jauntily drew the light yellow wagon, holding his head up quite as proudly as any flashy cob that passed with the fancy equipage in turn-out for the lovely afternoon driving. Presently, from the fashionable thoroughfare Frank turned into the "Old Road," that wended along railroad and river lines out Flosston way. "You can drive here," he conceded, handing the reins to Tessie. "I don't have to make another stop for half a mile." "I used to drive long ago, when I was a little girl with pigtails," she answered, taking the lines. "Gyp is gentle, isn't he?" "Yep, mostly he is. But he scares up, once in a while. Doesn't like an umbrella shot up under his nose, and I've seen him dance at a postal card flaring up with the wind." Entering Flosston, Tessie felt more emotion than she expected to experience. That last night in the town, when she and Dagmar waited at the station; their dispute over the road they should take; the finding of the badge, and the return of the girl scouts in search of it: all this surged over her like a cloud, covering the bright sunshine that danced through the trees. Frank evidently observed her preoccupation, for he made frantic efforts to be especially entertaining. Once, when the post-office clerk emerged from the drug-store, Tessie pulled her hat down until the pin at back tugged viciously in her coil of black hair. That clerk might recognize her, and her folks surely called for mail occasionally. But the clerk never raised his head, as Gyp sauntered along, and it was a relief to make sure that her new and different outfit was a complete disguise. No one would now recognize her as Tessie Wartliz, of Fluffdown Mills. "I have to get Miss Douglass some daisies. See that lovely field over there! Could we stop long enough for me to gather a bunch?" she asked Frank presently. "Sure thing!" replied the boy merrily. "I only have to turn in a few more boxes, and then my time's my own. Sometimes I take my sister Bessie when I come out here, and once mother came. But she wanted to knit. Can you beat that: knitting on a grocery wagon?" "Oh, folks who like it knit in their sleep, I guess," replied Tessie, giving the reins to Frank that he might turn safely into the field over the rough little hill at the roadside. "And say," went on Frank, "I put a chair in back for ma, and rode along the avenue as innocent as a lamb. Of course I was whistling and can you guess what happened?" "Mother went out the back way?" asked Tessie. "Surest thing you know. I looks back, and there went ma and her cane-seat chair, doing a regular cake-walk, along the boulevard. Oh, man! What she didn't say to me!" and Frank shouted a laugh that made Gyp jump clear over the last hillock. "Best to sit on stationary seats when one goes grocery riding," commented Tessie. "Now I'll pick daisies, and you can whistle all you like." "But I'm goin' to pick," insisted Frank. "I'll race you," and with the boy's proverbial love of sport, even picking daisies became a novel game. It took but a short time to fill arms with the plentiful white blossoms, tacked on their green stems with gold buttons, and presently Tessie was ready to embark again, after Frank had deposited both bunches of daisies in an empty box back of the seat. Out on the road once more, Tessie caught sight of a girl she knew well. It was Nettie Paine, who sold spools of crochet cotton in the little fancy shop, and how glad Tessie would be to stop and buy a few spools just now! She could make such a pretty camisole top--but--no, it would be foolish to take such a risk. So she reluctantly turned her head away from the fancy-goods store. "Now, just one more stop!" Frank announced. "I have to buy some things at the stationers. You hold Gyp in, Stacia. We're quite near the track, and he doesn't love the Limited Express." But Stacia (or Tessie) allowed the reins to lay loosely in her lap as she watched a girl scout in uniform approach. She was alone and tramped with a sure tread that might have marked her a True Tred had Tessie any knowledge of the troop's name. "Those girls are everywhere," she told herself, and then fell to day dreams of girl scout possibilities. Buried in thought, Tessie forgot Frank's warning to look out for the express, until a shrill whistle rent the air and Gyp sprang forward, almost tossing the girl from her seat on the wagon. Frantically she yelled at the little horse to "Whoa!" But on he dashed, and the gates were down directly ahead! Realizing her danger and leaning forward in her panic of fear, something happened to the rein, for she felt it fall, and even the power of pulling on Gyp's head was now lost. And the express could be seen rounding the curve! Prayers rose to Tessie's lips while terror gripped her heart. Moments were like hours, yet time had no proportion in the fear of death that seemed almost certain. Then just as the frightened little animal shied clear of a telegraph pole, and with head high in the air seemed to make a final dash, he was suddenly pulled back. The jolt threw Tessie against the side curtain. The little girl scout--she whom Tessie had noticed but a few minutes before, was now hanging on the reins! But Gyp was dragging her on. Would she, too, be killed? If some man would only come to their rescue! Then everything seemed to whirl before Tessie's distorted vision. Things "got black and went out." Next, she felt herself tumble back in the box of daisies. But Gyp had stopped! The girl scout had pulled him up somehow, and now Frank was there talking, and shouting, and praising the girl who had saved Tessie's life. "And she wouldn't even give her name," he was calling to Tessie. "Some narrow escape, I'll say. Why, that express no more than shot by when you touched the gates. If you hadn't looked so dead, I might have got that girl's name, but she's in one of those cottages by now. Well, we'll beat it for home," and he turned cautiously into the broader roadway. "Gyp, you'll go on a light diet for this, see if you don't!" But all the joy of her lovely ride was erased in the perilous experience. And again the influence of the girl scouts forced its way into her uncertain life. Truly the little heroes in that modest uniform deserved such merit badges as the one so lately given to Jacqueline Douglass. But it would not be wise to recount to the invalid child anything of this wild adventure. This Tessie felt instinctively. Nevertheless, when that night Jacqueline was placed in her dining chair, and while chatting with her brother she proudly displayed the clover leaf pin in a new little velvet case, Tessie wondered what could have been the original feat of heroism for which this badge had been bestowed. "And the girl who saved my life deserves the highest award," she reflected, "although no one will ever know, I suppose. She risked her own life in the attempt." Such was Tessie's decision, while that little scout was congratulating herself on having really saved a life "without anyone knowing who did it." She had HER secret now and it was delightful to cuddle so securely in her happy little heart. CHAPTER XIX THE FLYING SQUADRON "Oh, Grace, what do you think?" Thus asked Madaline without hint or warning. "Think? This is no time for thinking," answered Grace, who was busying herself with a complicated system of cords. "I'm trying to puzzle out the best way to demonstrate a sheep-shank knot," and she kept on with her endeavor, flipping the cord ends this way and that, while Madaline, all impatience, looked down at her chum. "Trying to tie a sheep-shank!" gasped the Bearer of tidings, as she presently proved herself to be. "Why, the very idea! You passed that test long ago--you're no tenderfoot!" "I know it, but Captain Clark said she was going to ask me to show a new group of candidates some knots, and I thought I'd practice a bit." "Practice!" repeated Madaline, "well, to use your own words, this is no time to practice. Oh, Grace! I can hardly tell you!" "Don't tell me it's anything bad!" exclaimed the manipulator of the knots. "Has anything happened? Is Cleo or Margaret--" "No, no! It isn't anything like that. Cleo and Margaret are all right, and they'll be here in a little while. I ran on ahead to tell you, and Captain Clark is coming, too, with them." "Well, of all things!" Grace burst out, laying aside the strings. "Something simply must have happened. Do you mean to say the delegation is waiting on me, to inform me that I have been picked out for some signal honor, ahem!" and she rose, bowing elaborately. "We have all been picked out for signal honor!" bubbled Madaline. "You aren't the only one. Put up that knot business. You can show the tenderfeet when you get back." "Oh, are we going away?" asked Grace. "Mystery piled on mystery. Do tell me!" "I thought I'd get you anxious," laughed Madaline. "Well, it's just this, and it's simply glorious! We're going camping!" "Camping? Who? When? Where? What, and all the rest of it?" and she fired the questions in a well-aimed volley at her friend. "Just we four and the Captain, of course," resumed Madaline, seating herself on a mossy log beside Grace, who had selected this seat in the woods as a silent seclusion, there to evolve a scheme for imparting primary knowledge of Girl Scout work, to a group of younger members who had lately joined. "We called at your house to tell you," continued Madaline, "but your mother said you were over here in the woods, so we came to find you--all four of us. I just ran on ahead--I couldn't wait for the others." "I'm so glad you did," said Grace, warmly. "But how does it come that we four are picked out from all the troop?" "Well, I fancy it's because we sort of out-did ourselves in the tests, and helped to get such, a satisfactory report. Captain Clark said she wanted to reward us in some way, and the opportunity came, so she pounced on it, or seized it or grasped it--you know--whatever you properly should do to an opportunity." "Grasped is the word, I believe," Grace decided. "But what is the opportunity?" "To go camping," retorted Madaline. "Friends of Captain Clark have offered her the use of their perfectly gorgeous camp in Allbright Woods. It's a place none of us has ever visited, and well just have scrumptious times. We're to spend the week-end here--just Captain Clark and we four. She asked some of the other girls, but they couldn't make it. Now drop all this knotty business, be joyous, hurry, and get ready. They'll be here in a minute. Isn't that good news?" "The best ever," assented Grace, and then, as she gathered up her strings, there appeared, coming through the grove of trees, Captain Clark, Margaret and Cleo. "Whoo-oo!" came the gleeful greeting, and hands fluttered as if conveying, in wig-wag talk, the joyous message. "Did she tell you, Grace?" cooed Cleo. "Wasn't that what I sprinted on ahead for?" demanded Madaline. "And do say you can go!" begged Margaret. "Is it really so, Captain?" asked Grace, a bit timidly, as if she feared to trust the good news. "Are we going camping?" "As if a true Girl Scout ever joked!" mocked Madaline. "Well, I know you of old, before you became a G. S.," retorted Grace. "Yes, my dear, we are really to spend a week-end in the woods if you can manage it," replied Captain Clark. "Some generous friends of mine, who have been unexpectedly called away from their place for a time, have offered to let me use it. And I could think of no better way of rewarding you four for your faithful work, than to give you this opportunity. I am sorry more could not manage to go, but it could not be arranged. So, Grace, if you will come back with us, and see if your folks will not object, we shall begin our preparations at once." "Oh, they won't object--not when I talk to them!" declared the girl, in a tone that made the others laugh. "But how do we go; by train!" "No, we are going in an auto, and all you need to take will be your personal belongings. The camp is stocked with food, and there is even a cook and a caretaker, a colored man and his wife." "Say, this is camping de luxe!" exclaimed Cleo. "Wouldn't it be more fun to rough it?" "It will be rough enough," asserted the Captain. "We shall be allowed to cook for ourselves if we choose, but the helpers are there in case of emergency." "In case the eggs refuse to scramble," murmured Margaret. "Something like that, yes," assented Captain Clark. As had been expected and hoped, there was no objection raised at the home of Grace, and two days later found the happy four, under the guidance of Captain Clark, on their way to Camp Nomoko, in the Allbright Woods. It was the best reward that could have been devised for the girls, and they expressed genuine sorrow at the fate of others of True Tred who must be left behind for one reason or another. But the girls of the troop were not to be exactly desolate during the days their more fortunate friends were camping--Flosston in itself offered many happy opportunities. "Are the Allbright Woods very wild?" asked Grace, as the auto left the main road and began the trip along a less frequented highway, the day following the inception of the plan. "Wild enough, I fancy you'll find," said the Captain. "My friends think it an ideal outdoor place in many respects. I hope you will like it." "Don't worry, please, we shall," declared Margaret. Each girl took along a small suitcase, filled with such belongings as she thought she would need. These, of course, included their complete scout uniforms, while they wore dresses of plain but serviceable material, which would almost serve the purpose of their khaki outfits, in case they were obliged, for any reason, to lay those aside in camp. It was decided two outfits were necessary, and the uniforms packed easiest. Captain Clark's friends had even sent their car for the girls to make the trip to Nomoko, so there was really little for the quartette to do except pack up and start. As Cleo had remarked it was almost camping de luxe. The journey, though enjoyable, was almost lost in the real joy of camping anticipation. "Here we are!" announced the Captain, after a ride of about four hours in the car, during which time no worse mishap occurred than a blowout, and for this the chauffeur was ready with an already inflated "spare," so little time was lost in replacing the tire. "Does he stay with us--at camp, I mean?" asked Cleo in a whisper, pointing to the driver, as the car swung into a rough wood road. "No, he is to go back to his own duties as soon as he leaves us at Nomoko," answered Captain Clark in a low voice. "But he will bring us home Tuesday, when my friends return to their tents." "And will we be left all alone in the camp, without means of getting out of the woods if we want to go?" asked Margaret. "Well, I believe there is a branch railroad line about ten miles away," said Captain Clark, "and if we have to--" "We can walk, of course!" interrupted Cleo. "That's a mere sprint. A ten-mile hike is a trifle." "Did you say triffle or truffle?" asked Grace. "Truffles don't grow here, nothing but mushrooms and toadstools," broke in Margaret. "All Girl Scouts ought to know that!" "Thanks for the information," retorted Grace. "Oh, what a perfectly scrumptious place!" she exclaimed as, after some rather severe jolting and swaying from side to side, the auto came to a stop in the depths of a grove of trees, amid which were pitched several tents and a slab-sided shack; from the stovepipe of the shack smoke drifted, and with it emanated the most appetizing odors. "This is Nomoko," said Captain Clarke, as she nodded a greeting to the colored caretaker and his wife, the latter appearing in the door of the shack, with a red bandanna handkerchief tied around her kinky head. "I have been here before." "Are you all right?" asked Zeb, the colored man. "No accidents or nothin'?" "Nothing at all, Zeb, I'm glad to say," was the Captain's answer. "We are here right side up with care. And will you tell Mrs. Nelson that for me," she went on to the chauffeur who, with the help of Zeb, was lifting out the baggage and valises. "I will; yes'm," was the reply. "I am to bring them back here Tuesday morning, and get you. I hope you enjoy your stay." "Thank you, I know we shall," and the Captain's words found echo in the hearts of the girls. "Let's go fishing! I see a stream that ought to have fish in!" cried Cleo. "Let's get our uniforms on and go for a hike. I've never been in these woods before!" cried Margaret. "Let's see if we can find any specimens--fossils or the like," came from Cleo, who had lately developed a collecting fever. "Let's eat!" declaimed Grace. "I'm starved!" "I think the last suggestion is best," decided Captain Clark. "We can soon change into our uniforms, and after a meal, which I judge should be called dinner instead of lunch, we may take a walk, or fish, or hike, or fossilize, as you then elect." "De dinnah am 'mos' ready," announced Alameda, the colored cook. "Oh, where have I heard them joyous words before?" cried Cleo, pretending to faint into Margaret's arms. "I golly! Dem suah am lively li'l gals! Dey suah am!" declared Zeb, as he went off to get a fresh pail of water at the spring. Soon the jolly little party, having the really well-appointed camp to themselves, sat down to a wild-wood meal. To say they enjoyed it is putting it mildly--far too mildly; they were "transported with joy," Grace insisted. "I declare! It's a shame to stay here any longer!" announced Cleo finally, although the joy had not been entirely consumed. "Do you mean you're ashamed of eating so much?" asked Grace. "No, but it's a pity to waste this glorious day in, just staying around camp. Let's go down to the brook, river or whatever it is." "And may we fish?" asked Margaret. "I think so. I'll ask Zeb if there are some rods that may be trusted to amateurs," replied the Captain. There were, as it developed, and presently equipped with all that was needed for the sport, the little party set off through the woods, following a direction Zeb gave them to locate the best fishing place. It was no new experience for the quartette, led by the Captain, to hike through the woods, but something really new awaited them this time, as they soon discovered to their sorrow. Cleo was in the lead and, after plunging through a rather thick growth of underbrush, she suddenly uttered a cry. "What is it--a snake?" asked Margaret, who followed. "If it is, don't get excited," warned the Captain, who heard the exclamation. "There are absolutely no poisonous snakes in this vicinity, and any other kind is more frightened of you than you can possibly be of him, girls," she insisted. "It isn't snakes!" cried Cleo. "I almost wish it were. Oh, aren't they horrible! Run, girls, run back, or you'll be eaten up!" and she beat such a hasty retreat, meanwhile wildly flinging her arms up and around her head, that she collided with Margaret, and nearly toppled her into a sassafras bush. "Oh, I feel 'em, too!" Margaret cried. "Oh, what pests!" "What in the world is the matter?" demanded Grace, from the rear. "If we're ever going to fish let's get to the water." "I'm never going to fish if I have to fight such things as these!" cried Cleo. "Back! Back to the tents!" "What is it?" cried Captain Clark. "Are you girls fooling?" But a moment later, as she felt herself attacked on hands and face, she realized what it was. "The flying squadron!" she exclaimed. "We must retreat, girls, and get ammunition. I forgot about these." "The flying squadron? What does she mean?" murmured Cleo, to whom knowledge had not yet come. CHAPTER XX CLEO'S EXPERIMENT Only a moment or two longer were necessary to acquaint Cleo with the cause of the precipitate retreat not only of her three chums, but Captain Clark as well. "Go on, Cleo! Turn around and hurry back to camp," directed the Captain. "We must get the citronella bottle." "I doubt if that will be of any use," said Margaret, beating herself frantically on the face with her hands. "These are terrible--worse than mosquitoes." "Oh, it's bugs, is it?" asked Cleo. "Ouch! I should say it was! What are they?" she cried, as she felt stinging pains on her hands and face. "Not bugs, merely black flies," declared Captain Clark. "I did not know there were any in these woods this year, but this must be a sudden and unexpected visitation of them. My friends said nothing about the pests. We simply can't go on if they are to oppose us." So back they went to camp, the pesky black flies buzzing all around them, biting whenever they got the chance, and that was frequently enough--too much so the girls voted. "Dat ar citron stuff ain't gwine goin' do much good, ef dey is de real black flies," asserted Zeb, when he heard the story. "What is good, then?" asked Margaret. "A smudge," promptly answered Cleo. "Don't you know what it says in our hand book? If citronella won't work, try a smudge, and make it of green cedar branches." "Good memory in a good cause," said Captain Clark, rubbing her smarting areas. "But any sort of smoke will drive them away. A brisk breeze is the best disperser of flying squadrons, though, whether they be of mosquitoes or black flies. That beats even a smudge, and is much more pleasant." "Yes, I don't care to look like a ham or a flitch of bacon," murmured Grace. "Oh, how they sting!" "Better put some witch hazel on," advised Zeb. "Dat's whut we uses heah in camp fo' all kinds of bites, 'ceptin' bee stings, and den ammonia's de only t'ing." "Don't tell me there are bees here, too!" gasped Margaret. "Oh, dey don't bodder you much," chuckled Zeb, as he brought out what Cleo described, later, as the germs of a drug store. There were several bottles, one--containing oil of citronella, and another witch hazel. This last was applied to the girls' wounds first, and did relieve, in a measure, the sting of the bites of the black flies. Then a film of citronella was spread over hands and faces, and a bottle of the pungent mixture was carried along as the Girl Scouts took the trail again, since it was voted that a fish of their own taking must be served for supper. "It would never do to go back from camp and tell the other girls we didn't catch anything," declared Grace, and the others readily agreed. The black flies had not followed them back to camp, perhaps because the tents were in the open, where the breeze could sweep around them. But, in spite of the citronella, the party was again attacked by the "flying squadron" as they started for the fishing place. "It's no use! We can't make it. No sense being all bitten up for a few fish!" declared Madaline, as she made use of the bottle of oil Captain Clark handed her. "They seem to like it!" And, really, the black flies did. Mosquitoes are not quite so fond of this oily extract of an Indian plant, and if the user does not object to the odor, he can keep himself pretty well protected from the mosquitoes by frequent applications of the stuff. Black flies, however, are not always affected by it, and a smudge is then the only answer to the problem. "But maybe Zeb can tell us a place to fish where there aren't so many of the pests," said Captain Clark, as they turned back. "It is simply impossible to go on this way." Zeb and his wife listened to the stories of the Scouts with sympathy, and Zeb declared that while the place he had selected for them was the best fishing spot, another might be tried, which was more in the open, subject to the grateful sweep of breezes, and, in that case, not so likely to be infested with the pests. The clouds of bites they seemed to greet the girls with, had been nothing short of an air raid, or bombardment. "Well, let's try it," suggested Cleo. "I don't care as long as I catch one fish, and maybe the new place will be fortified." "I wishes yo' luck!" murmured Zeb. So they set off this time in another direction, which led them to a clearing, and there, to their delight, they found no black flies. There were a few mosquitoes, but the citronella took care of them, or, rather drove them off, and soon the lines were in the water, with the bobs floating about. For the True Treds were not yet in the scientific fishing class, and a cork float was voted the best means of telling when one might have a bite. It seemed the girls were scarcely settled when the signal came. "I've got one!" suddenly cried Cleo, and she did manage to land, flapping on the grass back of her, a good-sized chub. "Oh, you're perfectly wonderful!" cried Grace. "However did you do it?" "My hypnotic eye!" laughed Cleo, as she proceeded, not without some difficulty, to unhook her fish, string it through the gills and put it on a string in a quiet pool to keep fresh. "You can all do it, if you just make goo-oy eyes at them," she joked, casting out again. It would be going too far to say that they all made catches at once, for Madaline and Captain Clark were out of luck, but the others each caught two, and the Captain declared this would suffice for all. "There is no use catching more of anything than you actually need," she declared, bribing her girls to leave the fascinating sport. "And may I cook one of my fish just as I please?" asked Cleo, when they were on their homeward way. "Why, yes, I suppose so, if Alameda does not object," Captain Clark answered. "But what is your way, Cleo, dear? If you intend to fry it in deep olive oil, I'm afraid--" "Oh, nothing as elaborate as that," was the laughing reply. "It's just an experiment I want to try. And yet it isn't exactly an experiment, either, for I read how to do it in a camping book. It's baked fish in a mud ball." "A mud ball!" cried Grace. "That doesn't sound very enticing!" "Well, it isn't exactly mud, but clean clay," Cleo explained. "And before you plaster the clay around the fish, you cover him with green leaves from the sassafras bush, or some spice leaves. It sounds awfully good, and I think it will look quite artistic." "Much better than it did at first," agreed Margaret, laughing. "Fancy muddy fish!" And when camp was reached, much to the amusement, and the unspoken indignation of Alameda, Cleo was allowed to try her experiment. Zeb cleaned the fish for her--that was all she asked. Then Cleo dug a hole in the soft earth and built in it a fire. "What I'm going to do," Cleo explained, "is to put a lump of butter inside the whole, cleaned fish. Then I wrap him in leaves and outside of that I put a ball of wet clay. Then I put the fish, clay and all down in the fire, cover it with embers and let it bake." "A sort of fish-ball," commented Madaline. "Well, you'll see," said Cleo. She completed her arrangements, though it was rather messy work, especially the clay covering, but finally she finished and the lump of "mud," as Alameda called it, was put to bake in the fire hole, hot ashes and embers being piled on top. "Dat's de craziest notion whut I eber hearn tell on," grumbled Alameda to Zeb. "I'se gwine cook do odder fish in mah own style." "I guess mebby as how yo' better had," he agreed. Preparations for the evening meal went on, while Captain Clark and her True Treds tidied themselves after the fishing excursion. Cleo was ready first and took a little run down to where her fire smouldered in the pit. "How do you tell when it's done?" asked Grace, joining her. "You can't stick a straw in through that clay as you stick a splint in a cake." "No," admitted Cleo, "but I guess it must be ready now. The book says it doesn't take more than an hour before the fish is baked to a turn, whatever that is." The four girls stood about the fire hole, wondering how Cleo's experiment would succeed. Captain Clark joined them. She was just going to suggest that perhaps the process was completed, when suddenly there was a loud explosion in the hole. Up in the air flew blazing and half-burned sticks, ashes and portions of a clay ball, mingled with something white, in flakes. "Look out!" cried Margaret. But there was no need. All the girls ducked for cover. "What--what was it?" asked Grace, when the shower of ashes and embers was over, without any casualties. "I rather think that was the completion of Cleo's experiment," said Captain Clark. "The clay ball exploded, girls." There was no question about that. Steam, generated inside the mass of wet mud Cleo had plastered about the fish had caused the ball to burst, and it scattered into a hundred fragments, blowing the fish to flakes that were scattered about the surrounding trees and bushes. "Oh, dear!" sighed Cleo. "I just remember now, I should have made a little hole to let the steam out. Oh, my lovely fish!" "Never mind," consoled Captain Clark. "You have learned something." "Yes," sighed Cleo. "An' hit's a mighty good t'ing I saved de rest ob de fish t' cook in mah own way," murmured Alameda, as she served supper a little later. And then, amid laughter at Cleo's experiment, they all sat down in the dining tent, and as they ate, evening settled down over camp. To say that their stay at Nomoko was a delight to the girls is putting it very faintly indeed. They hiked and fished and finally Cleo succeeded in baking a specimen in a clay ball and it was voted most excellent, and credited to her scout record as "home cooking in the woods." The weather remained delightful, so that the week-end dashed by almost as a single day, so replete was the time with woodland joys. Tuesday morning came, all too soon, and it was with genuine regret that they pulled up stakes to the extent of pecking grips for the home trip. "Seems to me," almost grumbled Madaline, "a few days in the woods just about make me want a whole month. Think of going back to Flosston after just learning how to hunt, fish, chase flies--" "And blow up dug-outs!" assisted Captain Clark. "Well, we really have learned a lot and had a good time, besides, you have each proved valiant to the extent of not being afraid of anything in the woods by day or by night, and that was well worth the trip." "Please don't give us a bad mark on the black fly contest," pleaded Cleo. "Because you know, in the end, we did conquer them." The Captain nodded a smiling assent. In a few minutes they were on their way, making speed time back to Flosston, where the jolly week-enders were soon again plunged into home scouting, just about where they had left off. That they knew nothing of Jacqueline and Margaret's badge did not signify any lull in their interest of the new troop members among the mill girls, and the fact that Tessie, alone and unknown, was struggling with Scout influence for weal, not for woe, did not deter the little girls of True Tred from unconsciously winding their capering steps in her direction. We left Jacqueline rejoicing over her merit badge and Tessie pondering on her increasing perplexities. CHAPTER XXI FORGING AHEAD Venture troop over in Franklin was making such rapid strides in good scouting that Captain Clark, of True Tred, had reason to warn her troop members to look to their laurels. The advantage of having only one afternoon each week, Saturday, free, rather than being able to plan for any afternoon, seemed to have a stimulating effect, resulting in highly concentrated effort. Realizing the advantage this movement was bringing to their employees, the directors of the Franklin mills had at last listened to the importunities of Molly Cosgrove, their welfare worker, and the establishment of a cafeteria for the girls' lunchtime was now assured. And Mrs. Cosgrove was going to direct it! "Now I'll tell you, Molly," insisted this very popular and good-natured lady. "I'll need some one to handle the cash register, and why can't I have Rose for that neat little piece of work? She's not rugged enough for work in a factory, and you know how splendidly she has turned out. When we first took that child in, without any training and nothing but the inheritance of an honorable disposition, I had my own fears. But I tell you, after all, to be born with character is a wonderful start." "Indeed it is, Mother," and Molly laughed outright at the well-aimed compliment that sprang back and hit the mother "square in the eyes." With her arm thrown around her mother's neck, Molly admitted her own inheritance in that line had been guaranteed. "It's going to be a wonderful thing for the girls," went on their captain. "The Americanization plan of the scouts is admitted the best we have yet tried out. You should see how eagerly they study now, and how well filled the night classes are! And slang has already been checked up as foolish. Really, Madre mia, I almost fear for our own fortunate American-born classes when I see those of foreign extraction making such progress." "It is splendid, but after all, daughter, we know America best. How are you making out with the plans of bringing the Brodix family back? I will be glad for Rose's sake when they can be all together again." "Our superintendent, Mr. Potter, has made inquiries about the standing of both father and son, and they have excellent records," replied Molly. "We hope, of course, the mother won't have to go into the factory again." "And Rose found that little cottage she was so in love with will be all fixed up by next month. I'll tell you, daughter, your dad will have to hustle to beat you and me, I'm thinking," and with pardonable pride the mother, who had often been termed "Chief of Franklin police," went on with the mending of socks and thrifty patching of fresh clean undergarments. "I am convinced now the child is cured of her worries," added Molly. "For a time I fancied she was unhappy with us, but now, since she expects her folks back, I almost have to hold her in from buying new furniture and fancy fixings. She is so enthused with the idea of having a real home." "That's her Americanization sprouting," replied the mother, "but you haven't said what you thought of the plan of making her my cashier." "Just the thing, of course. I thought you understood that. I'll speak to Miss Nellson to-morrow. To-night we have our first tests. I am anxious to learn how my Venture Troop makes out. Rose has been a faithful little leader." So it was that broad, generous daylight was breaking in on the anxieties Rose had been suffering from, and almost all her real worries were being dispelled--all but the fear that Tessie might be found guilty of taking that ticket money! Also the memory of the lost badge never ceased to torment the girl who had so unfortunately handed it over to Tessie with her own modest purse on that eventful night when they both turned away from the much-despised millend of Flosston. It was Rose who gave Margaret Slowden the bunch of roses, we remember, on the occasion of the second presentation of the badge of merit, and it was Rose who wrote that anonymous note to Margaret only a few weeks ago. Returning from a very dull day at her work, with some cheer at the prospect of an evening at Scout Headquarters, Rose was delighted to receive two letters at the post-office. One was from her brother, who wrote in a happy strain, replying to his sister's inquiries concerning the family's return to Pennsylvania. Both he and his father had been offered their old places back in the Flosston mills, as the labor union had adjusted its difficulties, he wrote, but a better offer had been made from the Franklin mills, and this they had decided to accept. So the Brodix family would not only return, but would take up their places under improved conditions. "And we will have the dear little old house with all the vines and flowers! Won't mother and father love it!" thought Rose. Two of the girls passing at that moment guessed correctly when they remarked: "Good news in that letter. Sure thing!" for Rose was so occupied with her mail she never noticed the friends passing. The second letter was from Tessie, as we may have surmised, for it was written two evenings earlier, posted on the day in the evening and therefore had that evening arrived in Franklin. With some anxiety Rose tore open the envelope, and was surprised to see how good quality of the paper upon which the letter was written. A faint scent of perfume added to the pleasant effect, and for a moment Rose was almost bewildered at the change in Tessie's form of correspondence. Could she have seen the circumstances under which the note was written, however her puzzle would have been solved, for the maid's room in the home of Jacqueline Douglass was fitted up with correct stationery for its occupant. Scanning quickly through the brief note, Rose read that Tessie "had a wonderful place" and if only she knew how Dagmar (Rose) was getting along there would be hardly anything left to worry about. "I have written to mother," the note continued, and Rose marvelled at the choice of English, "and some day very soon I am going straight back to Flosston. But there is one big thing I have to do first." (She did not hint it was the refunding of that scout money she must attend to.) "Then, dear old chum, I am coming to have the dandiest reunion with you, you have ever dreamed of! As you see, I have learned a lot of new words--so maybe you won't understand me. Better borrow some one's dictionary and be ready for your swell old pal--Tessie." "Oh, what a lovely surprise!" Rose could not help exclaiming. "Now I can tell Molly," and only the fact that Molly Cosgrove had gone out early to get ready for tests prevented Rose from immediately putting that resolution into effect. "But I won't tell Mrs. Cosgrove first," she decided. "It seems more upright to confide in my scout captain." "You look as if some one had left you a lot of money, Rose," Mrs. Cosgrove joked, as the girl fairly danced around, preparing for her evening at headquarters. "Good news from home, I guess." "Yes, splendid!" exclaimed Rose. "The folks are all coming back and they have promised not to bring any of the old furniture except the brasses. You know, father's brass candlesticks and flagon are as precious to us as family silver plate is to Americans." "Oh, I know. Molly is always trying to get a samovar. But your folks, not being Russian, do not use that sort of teapot." "No, ours is much simpler, but of course I think it is prettier. Well, you know how much I thank you, Mrs. Cosgrove. This house has been like--like a boarding-school to me!" Rose exclaimed, her voice heavy with sincerity. "That's a fine idea!" and Mrs. Cosgrove laughed heartily. "I never thought of this being a girls' seminary, but if I wasn't so busy with my cafeteria I might take up the question," she concluded. It was not yet time to inform Rose she was to be made cashier of the girls' lunchroom, so that good news was for the moment withheld. But somehow joy permeated the whole atmosphere, and even at the tests Rose's cheeks fairly burned with suppressed excitement. CHAPTER XXII THE WHIRLING MAY-POLE "Oh, isn't it too mean!" deplored Grace, talking to her chums, Cleo and Madaline, after succeeding in diverting the troublesome brother Benny over to his ballfield. "Hal Crane drove out on his wheel to the woods, as he promised, you know, and not a letter, nor a line, nor a scrap was there," and she dropped her dimpled chin down on her soft white dimity collar, until the top of her curly head slanted like a toboggan hill. "That isn't what worries me most," interposed Madaline. "It is the fact--the solemn fact," and she rolled her round eyes as if expecting a mote to sail out on a tear--"that not one of our troop has done anything big enough to win the B. C." "How do you know?" queried Cleo mysteriously. "We don't each of us know what every single member of the troop has done, do we?" "Oh, but we would be sure to hear of anything big enough to win the Bronze Cross," Grace assisted Madaline's argument. "And the True Treds are all so brave and such a fine set of girls! Land knows, I tried hard enough with tieing my man to the tree!" and she indulged in one of her unpredicted gales, "and now to think even he has deserted us!" "He may--have had to go off for supplies or something," suggested Cleo. "We can hardly expect a cave man to be always so punctual. But isn't it lovely about our new member?" "Yes," answered Grace. "Captain Clark told us last evening every single one passed her tests! Daddy says the mill owners are simply delighted with the change in the employees. You see, the men and boys always had organizations to cheer them along, but the girls and women were not treated like human beings." Grace was usually strong for her own rights and she had developed considerable individuality competing with Benny. "Here's Margaret. I suppose she expected some--wonderful news, too. Really, girls," gloomed Madaline, "I fear our cave man has deserted us." Margaret came blithely along, her tam-o'shanter being a little late in seasonable style, but so becoming that the detail was forgotten in the entire effect. "Heard the news?" she inquired indifferently. Her indifference indicated real importance, always. "What news?" chorused the trio. "We're going on a picnic!" "Where?" encored the chorus. "Out to River Bend," replied Margaret, making herself picturesque on a tree stump. The conference was being held in a shady lane directly back of the home of Cleo Harris. "River Bend!" a unanimous exclamation from the others. "Certainly, why not?" "Because that's our secret place," protested Grace, the first to come out in solo, "Why couldn't some other place have been chosen?" "Ask Captain Clark," replied Margaret, with tantalizing exactness, "and of course she won't tell you. You don't suppose one little hollow rock, or even one big wood-man comprises all the natural beauty of River Bend? Think of the canoes out there now! And we may even have a ride in them!" "That's so, of course," agreed Grace. "The Bend is a lovely pine picnic grove. Who's going?" "All True Treds. We are going to make it Saturday afternoon so as to include the entire troop" (the term mill girl was studiously avoided), "and besides," continued Margaret, glorying in the importance of her post, "we may have the Venture Troop of Franklin with that pretty little leader, Rose Dixon. All the girls rave about her." "We never knew how pretty those other girls were until we got a close-up view. That's a movie term, of course, but it fits," Cleo analyzed. "We poor mere Americans can never hope to compete with the girls of foreign parents in the way of eyes. Did you ever see such big, deep, dark eyes as Olga Neilson carries around?" and Cleo exercised her own blue-gray orbs in emulation. "One lovely thing about our picnic," commented Grace, "we will all wear uniform and look so alike. We will have to depend on our eyes for especial distinction, and as Benny would say, 'I see our finish!' At any rate, since we can't get any more mail from the woods, I guess it's a good idea to go out there and explore again. Perhaps we'll discover the secret of the stone man. Don't you remember, our history tells us the first records were made in crude carvings on stone? Maybe he's the original stone-cutter!" and the laugh that answered did credit to the joke. Meanwhile preparations for the picnic were being made in a number of localities, and the strings of this story's may-pole are again encircling a broad territory! Keen with anticipation, Rose and her constituents were trying their uniforms on this the night previous to the "June Walk," and if there had been any doubt concerning the popularity of the scout movement, it must have been dispelled when Venture Troop drilled that Friday night. Molly Cosgrove was proud of her troop. Never had Americanization seemed so definite in its results. The mothers of many of the girls attended the drill, and it was held in the Public School auditorium to accommodate all the numbers. The foreign women in their queer garb formed a most picturesque background for the uniformed troop, and viewing the scene from the gallery, one might have fancied it the picture of some European reconstruction field, with the battalion of uniformed girls led by Captain Molly Cosgrove "on patrol." Nora Noon made opportunity to whisper in the pink ears of Rose Dixon the fact that "awards and badges" were going to be conferred on "some of the girls" next day, and Rose felt a suspicion of anxiety at the news. Had she done anything worthy of award? Was there not always that unhappy memory of the merit badge found in Flosston, and so unfortunately lost again? She was relieved now that an attempt, at least, had been made to acquaint Molly Cosgrove with some few of the facts regarding the disappearance of Tessie Wartliz, but Molly hadn't seemed the least bit surprised, rather she laughed the subject off, as if Rose were making a mountain out of a mole hill. So no mention was made of the Merit Badge. But now with Nora's news the matter assumed a different aspect. Rose had done her best to develop her patrol, and what if the leaders should offer recognition for this? How awful it would be to have to refuse and confess! "Break ranks!" rang out the clear voice of the captain, and the call aroused Rose to the situation demanding attention. Everyone buzzed and chattered, the recreation hour to-night fairly threatened a stampede in jollity, and suppressing the insistent apprehension, Rose joined the merrymakers. Another circle of "our may-pole" now swings out to the home of Jacqueline Douglass. Here preparations are being made for the most mysterious event, and even Tessie cannot guess the sequel. The nurse has warned Tessie to "keep Miss Jack as quiet as she can," but to follow her instructions rather than oppose her. Mr. Gerald has imparted the same orders, and both chauffeurs have been busy all day, carrying mysterious bundles to the big cars, then dashing off towards town with them. The epochal Saturday morning had now blazed its trail on the June calendar in a perfect day. Jacqueline received her indispensable attention from Mrs. Bennet and the nurse with a show of impatience. "Be sure, Stacia (Tessie), my small chair is all ready for the car--the collapsible one, I mean. We must leave for our wonder trip directly after lunch," she cautioned Tessie. Mr. Gerald Douglass was rambling about, keeping step to his own extemporaneous whistle. He tapped at the door of his sister's dressing room and poked his handsome head in. "All ready, Sis! Remember your catalogue of promises! You wouldn't have poor Jerry courtmartialed by old Doc Blair, would you? And you know, Jack, I am taking an awful lot of responsibility in this!" "Don't you worry one little bit, brother mine," replied the girl whose soft light hair was receiving its last touch from skilled hands. "I'll be so good you won't know me, and I feel so splendidly well. When did that old doctor say I could stand up?" "Very soon, but not just to-day. All right, Jack. I'll be on hand. Any orders?" and he imitated the honorable butler in pose and manner, his thumbs just touching the seams of his trousers and his head thrust back as if complying with the savage demands of a high-priced dentist. "The car at two," ordered Jacqueline, and with a "well butlered bow" Gerald took himself off. "You are not to wear your black dress--no uniform to-day, Stacia," Jacqueline told Tessie. "Put on the nicest summer dress you own, that one with the pink flowers. You are to be my companion to-day--and I hope you have a lovely time." "I'm sure I shall," replied Tessie respectfully, but the whole proceedings were becoming so mysterious she wondered if the plan really did involve Fairyland. "You look as if you wanted to say something. What is it, Stacia?" asked Jacqueline. "Oh, I couldn't bother you with it now," replied Tessie, but an envelope in her hand spoke more intelligently. "No bother at all. I have lots of time. What is it, Stacia?" "I overheard you say, Miss Jacqueline, that you were treasurer of the Violet Shut Ins, and I have some ticket money belonging to their last benefit. Could I give it to you?" asked Tessie. "Why, of course you could. Isn't that lovely!" taking her envelope from Tessie's trembling hands. "I always knew we would hear from those lost tickets, and now my accounts are all perfectly straight. Won't Cousin Marcia be pleased!" "Cousin Marcia!" Tessie could not help repeating, as she all but stumbled from the room in her confusion. To be rid of that nightmare. To have made complete amends for that ticket money! Now she could face the world! Now she could go back to Flosston and find Dagmar Brodix! CHAPTER XXIII RAINBOW'S END It was a gala day in Flosston. True Tred Troop and Venture Troop Girl Scouts seemed to comprise a veritable army, as the girls in their brown uniforms congregated and scattered, then scattered and congregated, in that way girls have of imitating the "inimitable" bee. Long before the hour set for assembly on the green, knots and groups gathered there, and when finally Captain Clark and Captain Cosgrove appeared (we prefer to call each her separate captain), both True Treds and Venture troops were ready and eager to start for River Bend Woods. Grace, Cleo, Madaline and Margaret had managed to "fall in" in one line, so that the march out was unspoiled by difficulties in conversation, which would have followed any other formation. "If only--if only--" faltered Grace; then she laughed rather sheepishly. "But we may see him," surmised Cleo. "Any man or beast in that woods will come out of his lair when we get there!" predicted Margaret. "Oh, what a lovely showing! Just look back!" exclaimed Madaline, "and how finely the boy scouts drum and fife. Will they eat all our picnic stuff, do you suppose?" "Surely Hal Crane is entitled to some," replied Grace, "and there's Benny. He helped me before we got Hal. I shall have to share with him, of course." "We're starting!" cautioned Cleo. "Look out for your feet. Don't let our line get out of step!" "The boys aren't going all the way out," said Grace presently. "I just heard a girl say they are only going to escort us to the city line." "Then we won't have to feed them," Madaline remarked, her words being discounted by the joking tone of her voice. It was an imposing spectacle, and all Flosston seemed to appreciate the occasion, for windows were jammed with faces, doors were blocked with figures, and even low roofs were spotted with waving, shouting energetic youths. Not since a wartime parade had there been so much excitement, and only a word from the superintendent to the engineer of Fluffdown mills prevented the latter from blowing the big whistle. "It might make it look too much like a labor parade," the superintendant decided. Crossing the line from the borough into the county, the escort of boy scouts switched off to Oakleigh, where they were to take up their own special activities, the principal feature of the afternoon being a ball game with the Marvels. From this point it was but a short distance to hike to River Bend Woods, and nearing the noted territory the four scout girls experienced a sort of thrill. Grace felt something must happen to clear the mystery of her cave correspondent, and the other girls sincerely hoped something would happen. Just before entering the pine grove the two captains, Clark and Cosgrove, halted their troops and issued instructions. No girl was to leave the ranks, no girl was to make any advance, and no girl was to disobey the slightest order until the call for break ranks would be sounded. These orders were given with precision which indicated some very particular program, and served to "thrill" the quartette with new expectations. "Some one else is having a picnic!" whispered Grace. "I see a lot of bright things through the trees!" "Hush!" cautioned Margaret, for the patrol leaders were inspecting each line. "Now, girls!" called Captain Clark. "When I blow the whistle you are to follow your leaders, and rush forward. No one is to push, or crowd, but to advance in a solid line, battle formation. Then when I blow three whistles, halt instantly!" The ground was quite clear at this entrance to the woods, and at the command a grand rush forward was so cleverly executed it seemed the line scarcely lost step making the dash. Then the whistle sounded three times and behold! "Oh! oh! oh!" The woods rang with the cries! What a sight! A woodland play or Fairyland let loose! Quickly as astonished eyes could separate the view into its component parts, Grace realized the stage was set on her hollow rock! Then Madaline recognized the Queen seated on her throne was none other than the little girl to whom she had given her four-leaf clover! While the next moment a figure came from behind the big tree, the tree Grace had tied her victim to, and this was surely the very same man! His suit was that exact brownish mixture--and sure enough he was waving the very piece of rope Grace had tied him with. It was all glorious, beautiful! The fairy queen was seated on the rock--the throne simply lost in flowers. She wore a robe that sparkled with something like spangled crystals, and she held in her hand a golden wand. Seated at the foot of the rock was a girl dressed simply and representing the Wayfarer. And now we have guessed these characters are none other than Jacqueline and Tessie! "What a perfectly beautiful picture!" On every lip and tongue were such exclamations, when suddenly from the "victim at the tree" a weird sort of whistle music, made on the most artistically shaped instrument, like the pipes of Pan, sounded through the woodland. "Oh!" was all Grace could articulate, and with its ejaculation had pinched Cleo's arm into a promising "black and blue!" After the piper had played his tune Captain Clark gave the signal for the troops to be seated, then she stepped forward and stood on a stone by the side of the Queen's throne. "This is the end of the rainbow!" began the captain, "and I am sure we are satisfied now that all Fairyland is not limited to books. I want to introduce Miss Jacqueline Douglass," indicating the queen, "and her brother, Mr. Gerald Douglass," pointing to "Pan." "Last spring we took a hike to this wood and one of our members tried to do a humane service by making a capture!" (Grace felt her cheeks would ignite, but Cleo was trying to reassure her.) "It is not always what we do, but it is always what we try to do," went on Captain Clark, "and Grace Philow tried to capture a tramp. In the attempt she made fast a staunch friend, for Mr. Douglass now stands as our ally, rather than our victim!" A shrill blast on his pipes signified "Pan's" agreement, and the troops applauded until the echo came back from the other side of the river. "I heard the bandit say she was after Mrs. Johnston's wash," Pan declared, with Captain Clark's permission, "and she gave me a merry chase after my 'gob bag.' Little sister Jack and I had been spending an afternoon in the woods, and while she went out to the road in her chair I was to lug the bag. You really are an expert little highwayman, Bandit!" he finished, addressing Grace, who stood right at the end of the line. "And now I shall ask a word from our queen," announced Captain Clark. Jacqueline smiled and the girls could not help but exclaim how pretty she was. "You see I have been unable to walk since last winter," spoke the queen, "and when brother Gerald told me about the woodland girls, I begged him to play out the game, and you see he did. He wrote the letters, and hid them in this rock, then the girls sent the scout I wanted, and oh, it has been altogether so wonderful! We will have to have a real rally to tell you all about it, for the doctors say I will be all right again very soon." Cheers greeted this news and Jacqueline waved her wand in appreciation. During all this Tessie was not the one least surprised. In fact, she was so astonished she could no longer keep her place on the rock, and she now whispered to Jacqueline she would like to speak to a friend in the troop. At almost the same time Rose had discovered Tessie, and she, too, stepped aside when the girl left the rock, and the next moment the two girls were clasped in each other's arms. "Dagmar!" "Tessie!" Girls looking on knew nothing of the story of this reunion, but it was plain the captains were in the secret, and they did not call the stranger and the patrol leader back to their places. The emotion these girls were experiencing surely deserved consideration, and so they were left almost to themselves, a little distance from the troops. "And now we have some True Tred awards to make," again announced the captain. "Venture Troop will make theirs later." "To Cleo Harris goes the first Bronze Cross awarded our troop!" There was a shout, cheers, then questions! "Not only did she save a human life by stopping a runaway horse a few feet from a railway crossing, down the tracks of which was dashing an express, but she thought she had entirely succeeded in hiding her identity. She did not want the world to know of her deed, but we have discovered it!" Then, completely dumfounded, Cleo was urged forward, and she acted as she felt, like a girl in a dream, when Captain Clark pinned on her blouse the highest award, the Bronze Cross hanging from its bright red ribbon. She had won the first B. C.! Scarcely had the confusion subsided when Grace was called up to receive the merit badge for "successfully spreading scout influence and bringing joy into the life of a disabled child." Jacqueline had insisted mention be made of the "joy" the woods play had brought to her. So the award was made in that way. Madaline was admiring Cleo's cross when she heard her name called. Captain Clark announced: "A tiny four-leaf clover picked and bestowed in love as a nature gift is not too small to be recognized, and when Madaline Mower hurried after the wheel-chair of this little queen she touched a secret spring. An honor badge' must mark the result," and the much-astonished Madaline also received an award from the queen. "And who in this troop lost a merit badge?" joyously asked the queen, as soon as her words could be heard through the growing excitement. "Oh, I did!" almost shouted Margaret Slowden, rushing forward without waiting to be called. There was the much-prized merit badge! The one originally bestowed upon her on such an auspicious occasion. When Captain Clark again pinned it on Margaret's breast it seemed like a blessing that had grown greater by reason of its loss. And how delighted the girls were! It was a clear case of "No questions asked." Over on a little moss-covered tree stump Tessie and Rose alone knew the complete story of that lost badge, and only their eyes attempted to give an expression to the details. The call to "fall in ranks" was not sounded for a full hour later, for such a picnic as these girls enjoyed had never been heard of in River Bend Woods. All the wealth and generosity of Gerald Douglass seemed poured out in his sister's woody banquet; and as we have guessed he was by no means a stranger to the attractive Captain Clark. In fact, the way these two worked to "lay out the spread" caused even the experienced Captain Cosgrove to raise an inquisitorial finger. And now our mythical May-pole has swung around until its pretty ends all entwine the staff like a monument of mirth. Rose and Tessie were reunited and nothing but the insistance of Jacqueline that Stacia (this name now became permanent, as did the brief title Dagmar had chosen) stay with her, kept the two companions even temporarily separated by the short distance of two intervening villages. As Stacia was assisting the queen back to earth, and thence to her big limousine late that afternoon, she overheard Jacqueline telling Captain Cosgrove about the completion of her accounts for the Shut In Benefit. "Cousin Marcia Osborne went to the coast a week ago," Jacqueline said, "and she told me before she went she knew the returns would be made all right in time. So when Stacia handed me the envelope the other day I wrote her immediately that it was all settled by now." Then Pan blew a reveille on his pipes and the troops left the woods, so we must leave them, to meet again in the next volume of the Scouts, to be called "The Girl Scouts at Bellair: or, Maid Mary's Awakening." THE END 
38608	----	produced from scanned images of public domain material from the Google Print project.) [Illustration: THE PICTURESQUE FIGURE STOOD IN THE CENTER.] THE GIRL SCOUTS AT ROCKY LEDGE OR _Nora's Real Vacation_ By LILIAN GARIS Author of "The Girl Scout Pioneers," "The Girl Scouts at Bellaire," "The Girl Scouts at Sea Crest," "The Girl Scouts at Camp Comalong," etc. _ILLUSTRATED_ NEW YORK CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY THE GIRL SCOUT SERIES By LILIAN GARIS Cloth. 12mo. Frontispiece. THE GIRL SCOUT PIONEERS Or, Winning the First B. C. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT BELLAIRE Or, Maid Mary's Awakening THE GIRL SCOUTS AT SEA CREST Or, The Wig Wag Rescue THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP COMALONG Or, Peg of Tamarack Hills THE GIRL SCOUTS AT ROCKY LEDGE Or, Nora's Real Vacation _Other volumes in preparation_ CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, NEW YORK Copyright, 1922, by Cupples & Leon Company The Girl Scouts at Rocky Ledge _Printed in U. S. A._ CONTENTS I. Jim or Jerry: Ted or Elizabeth II. The Attic III. A Broken Dream IV. Transplanted V. The Woods at Rocky Ledge VI. A Prince in Hiding VII. Cap to the Rescue VIII. The Story Alma Did Not Tell IX. A Misadventure X. A Novel Initiation XI. Too Much Teasing XII. A Diversion Nobly Earned XIII. Crawling in the Shadows XIV. Circumstantial Evidence XV. Waif of the Wildwoods XVI. Lady Bountiful Junior XVII. A Picnic and Otherwise XVIII. The Little Lord's Confession XIX. A Deserted Tryst XX. The Worst Fright of All XXI. Strange Disclosures XXII. The Danger Squad in Action XXIII. Raiding the Attic XXIV. Fulfillment THE GIRL SCOUTS AT ROCKY LEDGE CHAPTER I JIM OR JERRY: TED OR ELIZABETH "Do you mind if I call you Jim?" "Why no--that is----" "And may I call the lady Aunt Elizabeth?" "Elizabeth?" "If you don't mind; I'd love to." "But the fact is----" "You see, I have always wanted a man named Jim to protect me, and now that I've got you I'd love to have you as Jim. Then, I have perfectly loved the Aunt Elizabeths. They're always so lacy and cameo like." She stood off and critically inspected the smiling woman in the most modern of costumes. "You're really too young," continued the girl, "but you'll grow old soon I hope, don't you think so?" "I'm afraid I shall----" "Then that's that. And I'm glad we are settling things so quickly. Could I see my attic room now, Aunt Elizabeth?" "Attic room?" "Isn't it?" "Not exactly. We were giving you the yellow room; it's so cheerful and pretty." "Well, of course, I don't want to be too particular, and it's lovely of you, dear Aunt Elizabeth, but all girls taken in are put in attic rooms, aren't they?" "Taken in?" "Yes, sort of adopted you know. The attic always gives the shadowy ghost business." There was just a hint of disappointment in the child's manner now. "We've got a first rate attic room," suggested the man who was tilting up and down in a heel and toe exercise. "And what do you say, Ted, I mean Elizabeth," he chuckled, "if we give----" "Jerry, don't talk nonsense," interrupted the young woman not unkindly but with some decision. "I am sure she would rather have the pretty----" "But, please, could I see the attic room?" came rather timidly the very thread of a voice from the little girl. "It's ghostly." This from Jerry. "That would be just perfect. Does the roof slant so it gives you the nightmare on your chest, you know? And does the moon sort of make faces in the windows?" Interest was overcoming timidity. "That may be the trouble," replied the man, with a chuckle. "But I'll tell you, little girl. Suppose we take the yellow room until you have a chance to inspect thoroughly. You see your--er--Aunt Elizabeth has had it all planned and fixed up----" "Oh yes. Do excuse me for being impolite. You see, I've been thinking about it so long. The school was lovely, and the teachers all very kind, but it was sort of a regular kindness, you know, and did not have any of my dreams coming true in it. Do you dream an awful lot here?" "Day dreams or night dreams?" asked the man. "Oh, wake-dreams, of course. The other kind don't mean anything. Just stickers in your brain sort of pricking, you know. But the wake-dreams can come true, if you plague them long enough. I guess they get tired fighting you off and they have to give in and happen. What do you want to call me?" This was a sudden digression and marked with a complete flopping down of the talkative child. "Your name is Nora, isn't it?" replied the young woman who seemed rather glad to sit down herself. They were on the big square porch and rockers were plentiful. "Yes, my name is Nora, and it's pretty good, but hard to rhyme easily. Then I would rather have you call me the name you have always called your dream child." "Mine was Bob," blurted the man, "but Bob wouldn't exactly suit you." "Oh, yes it would," she jumped up again and left the rocker swaying wildly. "Bob would be splendid for me. Would it suit you, Aunt Elizabeth? What was your pet name?" "I think Nora too pretty to drop. Besides, don't you really think a name is a part of one's self and ought to be loved and respected?" "That's just it. I want to--that is, if you don't mind, I want to be the self I planned, not this one I didn't have anything to say about. It's just like religion. When we grow up big as I am, we ought to be allowed to choose." Her manner was even more babyish than her appearance. "Big as I am!" Jerry repeated this to a rosebush. As a matter of fact she was not much bigger than a child of eight years might be, but she claimed a few more birthdays and she looked about as substantial as a wind flower. Her eyes were blue, her hair light and fluffy, and she wore such a tiny white slip of a dress, socks and sandals and a white lace hat! Grown up? She looked just like an old-fashioned baby. "Then, shall I be Bobbs?" asked Nora a moment later, with hope in her voice. "Ye-e-s, and if--the auntie wants to soften it she can call you Babette," ventured Jerry. "And now, if the christenings are over, suppose we go inside and freshen up. Come along Bob, you are going to be my helper now, aren't you?" Jerry's eyes twinkled with his voice. He was, plainly, enjoying himself. "I'd love to help--especially with outdoor work," replied the girl. "And you measure land, don't you?" she asked. "Yes, that's about it. In other words I'm a surveyor," explained Jerry. "And Aunt Elizabeth helps. Isn't that lovely? We won't, any of us, have old pesky house work to think about. I haven't ever dreamed a dream, not a single one, about housekeeping. Some one always does that for me, or I just don't think about it at all and it's all done beautifully," boasted Nora. "I love your place. It's so romantic," she expanded her arms and fluffy little skirt to fill the big chair. "I feel, somehow, everything is going to come true now." Relief toned this statement while she looked wistfully out of blue eyes, and any one might have easily guessed that something very dear was included in that word "everything." The young woman, who was threatened with being made over into an old Aunt Elizabeth with laces and cameos to boot, gazed intently at the small personality. She realized it was a personality, a little dreamer, a big romancer, and a very weird sample of the modern girl, self-trained. He who was to become "Jim" on the spot, seemed tickled to death over it all, and kept snapping his brown eyes, first at the newly named Bobbs and then his life's partner, until glints of fun-sparks charged the very air. "It might be a good idea to put on tags for a day or two," he suggested playfully. "I would hate to spoil the program by calling Elizabeth here just Ted." "Oh, do you think it will be hard? I didn't mean to make trouble, and, if you say so, I'll just put the dream back again on its peg and let it stay there. It really doesn't have to come true right now. There are so many new things to talk about," temporized Nora, considerately. "I think it would be lots better to try things out for a little while under our own names," suggested the young woman, eagerly. "And I have always loved the name Nora, so you see, _my_ dream will be coming true, at any rate," she smiled. "Goody--goody! It's all right, then. I'll be Nora, and you'll be Ted, that's pretty: what does it mean?" "Theodora," answered the man promptly. "Then it is prettier than the old-fashioned Elizabeth," agreed the child. "Really, things are different when you think about them than what they are when--you run right into them, aren't they?" "Sure thing, especially water wagons and book agents," joked Jerry. "And Jerry is lovely, too, just as nice as Jim. I knew a lovely old tramp dog named Jerry." Again the wistful blue eyes dreamed. "That's real nice," added the owner of the popular name. "Was he--gentle?" "As a lamb. I used to ride on his back!" "And was he--er--handsome?" "He had the loveliest ears, all little pleaty wrinkles, and such big, floppy feet----" "All right, I'll be content to be his namesake, only don't expect me to howl when the phonograph plays. I can't undertake to do that," demurred the affable Jerry. They all laughed a little at this protest, for Jerry Manton seemed good natured enough to "howl" if occasion demanded it. Even the moon might have inspired him "doggerly" so to speak. Mrs. Manton picked up the little hand satchel that Nora kept at her side when the other baggage was being disposed of, and gently urged the little visitor into the Nest, there to settle that other question of attic or guest room. The short bright curls bobbed up and down incredulously, as their surprised owner looked in on the yellow room, a moment later. "Golden! Perfectly golden!" exclaimed the child. "But, of course, one could never get the nightmare in this lovely bird cage." She stopped, apparently reasoning out bird cages, nightmares and ghostly attics. "And I have simply got to have a strange experience," she scratched her heels together anxiously. "I just couldn't give that up," she decided. "But you do think this is a pretty room?" asked the hostess, her own soft eyes embracing affectionately the golden space before them. "Glorious!" declared Nora rapturously. "And I'm afraid it has been rather silly to get set on certain things without really knowing about them. Dreams are uncertain, after all." Jerry was just coming up the rustic stairs. "But the attic is a real spook parlor," he chimed in, "and I've always loved it myself. I have a corner for my trash, and the sleeping quarters aren't bad. You see this place was built with government money, and that's always--well, real money," he finished, significantly. "But Jerry," again came the opposition from Mrs. Manton, "you know we have scarcely had time to look that attic over since we came here. It seems perfectly absurd to let Nora go up there," she paused. "I know it's clean, for Vita takes a pride in fixing attics, but why----" "Now Ted," the voice was as soft as a boy's, "why not let our little girl have her way?" "I really am not objecting," said the wife with a smile, "I'm just qualifying." "But who dares qualify day dreams?" asked the man, with a comical twist in his voice. Nora stood on the threshold, uncertainly. "I guess maybe," she pondered, "we think a lot about dreams when we haven't real things to think about, like playthings, for real," she finished. "That's exactly it, dear," said Mrs. Manton, "and day dreams are not always healthy, either." "All the same," insisted Jerry, "I'm strong for that attic. It smells just like the woods after my men have made a good, clean cutting. Come along, girlie, and let me show it to you." CHAPTER II THE ATTIC "How's this?" asked the man. "Oh, wonderful! Those beams, they slant just like the story books say," declared Nora, ecstatically. "Good enough to give you the right sort of nightmare, eh? Well, that's nice. Ted is always after the cobwebs, but I don't let her spoil them if I'm around. You see, cobwebs have a lot to do in my business." "Cobwebs?" Nora poked her little head in between two chummy beams. "What do cobwebs do in surveying?" "They make a cross line on my object glass. I'll show you when I get around to it," replied Jerry. "Now see here, here's the secret chest," he was opening a big wooden box, "and by a miracle," he continued, "it does hold clothes, duds, et-cet-tee-ra." "The people who had this place gave a big party, I believe," explained Mrs. Ted, "and they left a lot of their costumes here. We have never had any chance to make use of them," she finished, slapping her hands on the work apron that partly covered her own mannish costume. Apparently she disdained the frivolous things. "But just look!" Nora was almost in the big cedar chest; in fact, nothing more than a bump of white, ending in two small brown spots that waggled like sandaled feet, was visible. Presently the curly head emerged in a cloud of brilliant, spangly stuff, very evidently the costumes. "Aren't these just wonderful!" "Oh yes," agreed Jerry, "they're nice and shiny. But just look at this spook cabinet. Do you know what a spook cabinet is, Nora?" "No, what?" She dropped the costumes back into the big chest instantly. "They're just a box of tricks. But this is the box empty. See here," Jerry opened, with some difficulty, the long narrow closet that was built in a corner of the attic room. "I have always wondered why this had a ventilator at the top----" he began. "Jerry!" called his wife rather sharply. "Please don't do all the exploring in one day. Nora must change her things and come down stairs. She may want something to eat after her journey." Mrs. Ted's tone of voice was plainly against that cabinet. "All right, Ted, I'll subside," replied the jolly man. "The fact is----" he whispered to Nora, "our Ted hates ghosts; and every time I talk about this here upright coffin, she objects," and he gave one of his boyish twisted yelps, as if he wanted to yell but didn't dare so gurgled instead, and it was very plain he said this out of pure mischief; nevertheless, it did cause the little girl to clench her small fists and start suddenly. "Come right down stairs," insisted the hostess imperatively. "I'm very sure, Nora dear, you will find something more interesting in Vita's cake box than you could dig out of that dusty hole." "Vita! What a queer name!" exclaimed Nora, following Mrs. Manton out from the interesting attic. "Her whole name is more than that. It's Vittoria, but since she does our cooking and is both vital and vitaminous, we cut it down to an easy word implying both," explained Ted. "You see, Nora, we are keen on short cuts." The little girl was thinking something like that. In fact, she was so fascinated with the realities of her visit she had almost lost the last shred of faith in her picturesque dreams. "If I had ever named a cook," she was deciding, "I should surely have given her Susan or Betsy or maybe Jennie. But Vita means more and makes you think of good victuals." The open stairs were built winding from the big field stone hearth in the first room, clear up to the attic chamber, and, as they descended, Nora looked about the quaint, rustic place in rapturous admiration. Indeed, no dream of her great life series had ever included this. Gone with the Jim-Aunt Elizabeth idea was going the rag-rug four-poster plan, that had seemed almost indelibly outlined on her whimsical picture plate. She sighed a little, as she felt she should, on the "grave of her dreams;" but there was Jerry calling from the open door: "Here you are, Nora! Come and meet Cap." "Cap! A boy!" she asked excitedly. "Not the regular kind, but he's some boy just the same." Jerry was clapping his hands like a boy himself, just as a big shaggy dog bounded down the path and up the few steps to the square porch. "Oh, what a beauty! I have always loved a big dog!" exclaimed Nora. "What's his name?" "Captain," replied the proud master. "Here Cap, come shake hands with Nora." The dog cocked one ear up inquisitively, looked over the small girl with majestic indifference, walked around her twice and finally flung his bushy tail out with a swish that fanned Nora's cheek as she bent over to make friends. "Isn't he lovely! Just like the picture in my first story book; the big dog that dragged the lost man out of the snow drifts," said Nora, almost breathless with delight. "He is exactly that sort," explained Jerry. "He came from the other side and was a Captain in the big war." "Oh," sighed Nora wistfully. "He must know an awful lot." "He surely does, eh, old boy?" and the big shaggy head was patted affectionately. Meanwhile Vita, the Italian woman who held the office of housekeeper, was depositing a mess of freshly-picked dandelions in a pan on the kitchen table. She smiled pleasantly at the little stranger, and at a single glance Nora knew she and Vita were sure to be friends. "Now, you know us all," announced the hostess. "Vita and Captain complete the circle." "Not counting the crow, and the rabbits and the cat and the----" "The animal kingdom is not included," Ted interrupted her husband. "When we get to checking up the animals please, after Captain count in Cyclone." "Cyclone! A horse?" asked Nora. "Yes, the horse," answered Jerry. "He can climb trees, crawl through gullies and swim the river like a bear, according to Ted." "Well, hardly all of that," qualified the smiling owner of the saddle horse Cyclone. "But he is a wonderful horse, Nora. I am sure you will want to ride him." "Oh, I'd be dreadfully afraid," demurred the girl. "But perhaps----" "You aren't going to be afraid of anything around here, Bobbie," Jerry assured the small girl, who looked smaller by contrast to the big man and the robust, athletic young woman; both perfect models of "America's best." Considering the very short time little Nora had been at the Nest, it appeared much, in the way of acquaintance, had been accomplished. "If you will just run off, Jerry-boy, and manage to find something to keep you busy for a half hour or so," begged his wife finally, "perhaps Nora and I will be able to settle down to the comforts of home." "Am I not included?" he asked teasingly. "Sometimes, but just now we need space," replied she, who was affectionately styled Teddy. "That being the case----. Come along Cap," and the next moment a very happy, boyish man and a wildly happy dog went scampering off through the "flap-jack" path in the clearance. The path was made of selected flat stones scattered at stepping intervals, and it was Jerry who insisted they reminded him of Vita's best flap-jacks. The coming of Nora to the lodge in the wilderness was the result of what seemed a necessity. The child was the daughter of Theodora Crane's best friend Naomie Blair, an artist so highly temperamental that, after a series of nerve episodes, she finally seemed forced to go to Western mountains and leave little Nora at a select school. The school was select to the point of isolation, and the teachers had advised Theodora, who was in charge of Nora, that the child was so nervous, high strung and fanciful, that the doctors had ordered a complete change of surroundings. These characteristics were already showing in Nora's conduct; but with that understanding of childhood always a part of pure affection for it, Theodora was pleased, rather than worried, over the prospects ahead. Nora herself seemed bewildered and fascinated. Her love of "dream things" was plainly a part of her nature, at the same time she was quickly learning that only happy realities can make happy dreams. In the small satchel that Nora clung to was found no suitable change of anything like practical clothing, in fact her dress was so fussy, be-ribboned and be-frilled, that Teddy hesitated about offering any of it to the briars and brambles of the timberland. "I pick out all my own dresses, you know," the little girl explained. "Nannie wasn't able to do any shopping so she had the catalogues sent to me by mail." "Nannie?" "That's mother, of course. But she is so little and delicate I could never think of calling her mother," declared Nora. "She likes Nannie better." "You have quite a talent for names or re-names," joked Teddy. "I am wondering how I should have liked the 'Lizzie' you chose for me." "Not Lizzie! Elizabeth," in a shocked voice. "Same lady, I believe. But let's hold on to Ted until we get acquainted or things may go on end," advised good-natured Mrs. Manners. "Besides, there's our auto, that's 'Lizzie' to Jerry." Nora did not ask why. She was in the yellow room, changing, and the blue roses in the filmy little dress she selected were not bluer than her own wondering eyes. "I tell you what would be just the thing for you, dear," said Teddy suddenly. "You must join the Girl Scouts!" "Girl Scouts!" "Yes, you know about them, don't you?" "I've read about them, but I really never could, Aunt Teddy. I couldn't be one of those wild, uncultured girls." A delicious laugh escaped Teddy. "Wild and uncultured!" she repeated. Then, seeing the pitifully blank look on Nora's face she dropped the subject. "Here's your closet," she explained next, opening the door of a built-in wardrobe, "and you better slip these little pads on the ends of hangers when you put pretty things on them. You see, we have very few fancy things out here, and these hangers are cut from our birch trees. I had a visitor last year who was so afraid of snakes she spent all her time around the lodge, so she made these pine pads with fancy stocking ends. I have never needed to use them." The pads were little cushions of pine needles sewed in silk stocking ends, with a long open seam along the side. These slipped onto the hangers and were tied with tapes at the hook. Nora quickly adjusted one for her dotted swiss dress and another for her pink rose silk. These, strange to tell, she had carried in her hand bag. "And here is your dresser," Teddy further introduced. "See what lovely deep drawers." "Aren't they? I'd love to put lavender and rosemary in the corners. Do you--like those perfumes?" "Well, yes, as perfumes. But I'm so used to the odor of freshly cut trees I'm afraid my finer taste is disappearing," said the other quietly. Into the drawer Nora was placing such an outlay of finery as any young bride might have boasted of. Selecting from catalogues was only too evident in the lacy garments, with little ribbons, and tiny rose buds; pretty in themselves but absurd on the undergarments of a growing child. Then, there was an ivory set, mirror, comb, brush, etc. As the surprised Teddy glimpsed the display over a khaki covered shoulder she had difficulty in choking back a laugh. "Naomie would be as silly as that," she pondered, silently, reflecting that the same sort of whims in dress and finery had been a real part of Naomie Blair's young girlhood. Nora was placing her pretty things on the big dresser, with skilled little fingers, and that the fancy, private, exclusive school had helped to make silly traits even more pronounced in little Nora, was too evident. Wisely, however, Mrs. Ted said not a word in opposition. Things must move slowly, she realized, if the quaint little dreamer was not to be too rudely shocked out of her fancies. It was all very exciting even to the placid, well balanced young woman. To have the daughter of her girlhood friend come into her very arms, like a little bird battered in the storm of life's uncertainties, with tired wings falling against the bright window pane of love; then to see the dreams unfolded with the Jims, Elizabeths, ghosts and attic fancies, ready to reel off like an actual moving-picture--it was all very surprising, not to say astonishing, for the sensible, modern Mantons. But could this same bright-eyed lady have looked into the summer ahead, and forseen the new fields of fancies that Nora was about to explore, she might have been still more amazed. Playing mother to a butterfly is not often a very satisfactory experience, but there was Nora, and if ever a child needed a mother this little "whimsy" did. "To think of calling her mother Nannie," reflected Mrs. Manton, "and if only I could have called such a child 'daughter.'" Jerry was back from his enforced trip to the lumberland, and his whistle trickled in the window on a flood of sunshine. "Oh, let's go down," exclaimed Nora, brushing things hastily into the dresser drawer and neglecting to tie her sash in an even bow. "I'm so anxious to see your outdoors, I could easily believe there are fairies in these thick, tangly woods." "Our birds and little animal friends are just as interesting as fairies," remarked Mrs. Ted, "but you must know them and they must know you." "How ever could one get acquainted with birds?" asked Nora, stopping a moment on her way out to answer Jerry's whistle. "We don't know how, but we know we do," replied Mrs. Ted, giving the flying window curtain a jerk to let the sun stream in. "Some day I must tell you about the poor little blue-jay we took in and nursed. He got so fond of us I could hardly get him to fly away." "I had a canary once, Nannie sent it for Christmas, but I had to let him go," said Nora. "He was just breaking his heart in that tiny, little cage. I never wanted a bird again." "They are pathetic when caged," agreed Mrs. Manton, "but when out in their own woods they seem to be the very happiest little creatures of all creation. Run along," she said, as Nora waited politely. "That Jerry-boy is getting impatient." As the child fluttered off, her yellow ringlets dancing and her dainty little skirts swishing around the half tied ribbon sash, Mrs. Ted smiled and pondered: "Another little blue-jay to love; but she will surely want to fly away in her sky of dreams, and I pity the tired wings when night comes," sighed the potential mother. CHAPTER III A BROKEN DREAM It was evening at the Nest, and the quiet settling down on the woodlands vibrated with a melody, at once silent and musical. Little Nora fairly trembled with expectation. What would the night bring? She was determined to sleep in that attic under the big, dark rafters. As a matter of fact Nora was fascinated with fear; just as one may stop on a river bridge and feel like jumping in. "Just pound on the floor, Kitten, if you get scared. We'll run up and get you, quickly enough," declared Jerry, secretly proud of Nora's pluck. "But really, dear," objected Mrs. Ted, "I would rather you would----" "Now Ted, you know well enough you had a heap of fun the night you and Jettie slept in the haunted house. Never mind the trouble you made in the neighborhood, you had your fun," and he clapped his brown hands on his knee and laughed, until Cap, the big dog, rolled over in his sleep and grunted inquiringly. This reminder caused Ted to smile indulgently, and when Nora twined her warm little arms around the same Teddie's neck, it seemed to the adopted mother she could not deny her anything--she might sleep on the roof if the whim occurred to her just then. While the family, which included Vita and the big tiger cat, besides Cap and a cage of newly adopted birds, were either talking or listening to talk, Vita, from the kitchen door, was acting rather queerly. She would shuffle back and forth, start to speak and hesitate, cough, spill pans and make other unusual noises, until Ted called out: "What's the matter, Vita? You seem to be having a lot of trouble." "Not trouble, just worry," replied the elderly servant in good English, but strongly accented. "Worry?" repeated Jerry. "Why Vita, you never worry. What's wrong? Come in and tell us about it." At this invitation Vita showed herself in the comfortable sitting room, towel in hand and head wagging. "It's like this," she began, "that attic----" "Oh, that's it, is it? Now don't you go worrying about the attic," interrupted Jerry. "If our little girl wants to dream one dream out up there, why shouldn't she? I like her spirit." "But when--there's the pretty room----" "Why Vita!" It was Ted who interrupted this time. "I'm surprised that you should interfere!" "Now, you know, dear, Vita means no harm," Jerry broke in, always eager to smooth things out. "But there really doesn't seem any cause for all this anxiety." "I would say, please," ventured the housekeeper, "a little girl might get scared up in that black garret," and she made her dark eyes glare, plainly with the intent of frightening Nora out of her plans. "Then it will be over, anyhow," spoke up the child, "and I might as well get scared tonight as any other night," she concluded loftily. "Right-o!" sang out Jerry. "I can tell sure thing, Kitten, that you and I are going to have a heap of fun in these diggings. When you get through with one scare we'll invent another, and in that way we'll be able to keep things interesting." Vita threw back her head, rolled her eyes again and made a queer sort of gurgle. Then she swished her dish towel in the air with such a jerk it snapped like a whip, and realizing further argument would be useless, she turned back into her own quarters. As she went out, man and wife exchanged questioning glances. They plainly asked each other why their maid should be so concerned, but with Nora present it was unwise to put the query into words, so it remained unanswered. Nothing but sheer pity prevented Mrs. Jerry Manton, better known as Ted, from bursting into delicious laughter at the sight of Nora in her boudoir finery, as, an hour later, she picked her way up into that attic. Jerry kept discreetly at a distance, but he too saw the figure, so like the model of an old time master painting, as she climbed the stairs, unlighted candle in hand, with Cap at the little pink heels that just peeked out from under a very beautiful, dainty night-robe. Her candle was not lighted--Cousin Ted, (the latest name given the hostess) would not permit the lighting, as she argued it was dangerous to carry the little flame so near to the flimsy robe: never-the-less, Nora wanted the candle, and she carried it along to complete the picture. At the door Ted touched a button and the convenient big electric bulb, ordinarily used by Jerry when he went to the attic workroom, showered a welcome light over the dark rafters and the queer eerie, lofty quarters. "Isn't it wonderful!" said Nora, in a voice so shaky the wonder part seemed rather awful. "If you get the least bit nervous, dear, you come right down to the yellow room," cautioned Ted. "We will leave the hall lights on, and Cap wanders about all night. So if you hear him don't be alarmed." "It would be nice----" Nora paused, then continued, "if Cap would sleep up here on this lovely landing. Couldn't we give him a pillow?" "I'm sure he wouldn't stay long," objected Ted. "Our Cap is a wonderful night watchman and has a regular beat to cover. He will be sure to visit you more than once before morning." She was turning away reluctantly. The circumstances exacted full strength of her own courage--to leave that little wisp of a child up in the lonely attic just to satisfy a whim. But Ted knew the only sure way to effect a cure for the fanciful nonsense was to let it burn out: it could never be successfully suppressed. Hence the decision and the attic quarters. "Good night, cousin Ted," said Nora bravely. "And don't worry about me. I'm sure to sleep and dream beautifully in that nice, fresh bed." "It is fresh; I changed it all as Vita seemed so opposed to letting you come up here," said Ted, thoughtfully. "But while Vita is very queer in some respects, she is loyal and faithful, always." Nora threw her small arms around Ted's neck impulsively. "If only Nannie liked housekeeping," she sighed. "Couldn't we have perfectly lovely times in a little house of our own?" "Your mother is sure to change her ideas when she grows stronger," replied the young woman, charitably. "Naomie has what is termed the artistic temperament. As a rule it is greatly and sadly in need of discipline." Nora sighed and pressed a loving pair of trembling lips on Mrs. Manton's brown cheek. "I'm so glad I found you, anyhow. And Cousin Jerry is just the very loveliest big jolly man! I'm sure I'm going to be very happy here," she finished with an impressive sigh. "I know you are, dear. We have more kinds of things to do in this big woodland! Just wait until you go out surveying with us!" Ted promised, "then you will see some of the wonders of the great outdoors. There's Jerry's whistle now. I must run away and get him his bread and milk. Would you believe that great, big baby has a bowl of milk and two cuts of home made bread every night? He says his mother always told her children a story when they took this extra meal, and he insists he would break up the family circle if he failed to take his nightly supply." "Break up the family? Do they come here?" "Oh, bless you, no. Jerry just fancies the other two brothers in Canada and the sister who is a nurse in the mountains, all eat bread and milk at nine-thirty P. M." She laughed a little, caressing ripple. Even Nora knew that this young wife cherished any filial view held up by her husband. Ted was gone, and presently it was time to turn out the big bulb light that dangled from the rafters. Nora peered into the looking glass at her own little face to make doubly sure of herself. Then she made a complete survey of the room. "Just to know that any noise isn't here," she apologized to herself, poking her yellow head into a nest of cobwebs and jerking back with a little gasp. "Oh!" she panted, "Cousin Jerry wants cobwebs for his surveying instruments. I must be sure to remember where that nest is." Over by the chimney a line of paper bags hung and these now seemed "spooky" in the shadowy light. Other hanging things in the low parts of the attic that were set away from the center, the latter which was forming the unfinished bed room, all added to the grotesque outline. "But I've got to do it," declared little Nora, crawling at last under the fresh bed covering Cousin Ted had provided. "I'll leave the light on for a little while just to try it," decided Nora, her yellow head buried so deeply beneath the covers that it was quite impossible to tell light from darkness. A little click from somewhere brought her up straight in the bed, a moment later. She listened with all her alert senses but nothing else happened. With a new feeling, somewhat akin to disappointment, Nora once more settled down, first, however, she actually turned off the light, and only the slim streak from the far away hall showed a single beam that framed the chimney line. Being brave--as brave as all this--was really a new experience to Nora, but she had promised herself to "hold out"; and then Cousin Jerry had seemed so proud of her pluck she would never disappoint him. "Makes me feel almost as big as a boy," she encouraged herself, "and won't I have a wonderful story to write Barbara." Now she thought of Barbara, the tom-boy girl at school: she who could climb and romp, laugh and cry, defy the prim madams who conducted the school, it was certainly conducted not "run," and the Misses Baily were types of teachers such as the most carping critic might depict, black string eye-glasses and all. The vision flitted before the blinking eyes of Nora. She was so glad to get away from school restrictions and perhaps--well perhaps Cousin Jerry and Cousin Ted might get to love her so fondly they would not send her back. What was that! Over by the big chest! Quickly Nora struck a match and lighted her candle. A figure moved, there was no mistake about it, a person, a real live person was surely over by the spook cabinet. Nora almost stopped breathing. She was afraid to call out and still more afraid to remain quiet. There it was again! "Oh! Oh! Cousin Ted!" She did call, but in such a thread of a voice she scarcely heard it herself. The next moment Cap sniffed his big, warm nose up under her arm. "Oh, Cap, I'm so glad! Stay with me. I'm frightened!" she whispered, drawing his tawny head closer. Then it occurred to her that the big dog had not barked. She knew he could scent a stranger in any part of the house, and she was equally sure a real person had moved over by the cabinet. Who could it be? Her first sudden fright was now giving place to reason. The intruder must be human, and perhaps whoever it was, he was giving Cap something he liked. But that would not account for his submission, for Cap was not a dog to take things from strangers. Horrible thoughts of chloroform stifled the girl. She even fancied she did detect a strange, depressing odor. What if she should be drugged! An attempt to move found her too frightened to put one foot over the side of that bed. Why had she waited so long? A sickening fear was coming on. Oh, suppose it should be unconsciousness? There was a stir. Cap was knocking things about. Now he dashed over and was surely bounding up on someone. "Down!" came the command. It was given in the voice of Vita! CHAPTER IV TRANSPLANTED Nora was too surprised now to even think coherently. That Vita should be up in her attic! "Down, down Cap!" the housekeeper was ordering, while the dog, evidently realizing something very unusual was occurring, added his part to the confusion. "Vita!" called Nora in a subdued voice, "Come over this way!" "Hush! Don't wake the folks," cautioned the maid, now beside Nora's bed. "I--just--come to--shut the window----" "Oh, is there a window over there?" "A little one," evaded Vita. "But why do you come up to this dirty place?" "It isn't dirty, and I like attics." Nora's was confident now and her voice betrayed some resentment. "You like it?" Vita sniffed so hard the candle almost choked to death. "Why yes; why shouldn't I? I'm romantic you know." "Roman----" "Oh, you don't understand. I'm sort of booky, like a story, you know," explained Nora loftily. "I love things that are like the parts of a story." It was difficult to make certain that this lusty Italian understood; but even in the dim light, her dark eyes seemed kind and full of smiling glints, and her ruddy cheeks dimpled all over like a big tufted pin cushion, giving Nora a feeling of security mingled with curiosity. Why did Vita come up? There was no draft from any window. Was there even a window? "I tell you, baby," the woman began, as if answering Nora's silent questions, "you be a very good little girl and go down to the pretty sun-gold room; yes?" The big warm arm was cuddling the little form in the bed, and Cap was so happy he put both paws gingerly on the coverlet, snapping a very short bark of a question right into Nora's face. "Quiet, boy!" whispered Nora. "We are having a lovely party but we must not wake our neighbors." The big shaggy head burrowed down into the covers, and Nora felt like a little queen on a throne with her servants bowing at her feet. "Go on, Vita," she ordered grandly. "I tell you a nice little story, then you go downstairs on tippy toes, yes?" "But Vita dear, I did so want to stay up here," pouted Nora. "It is no good up here. All crazy like, and make you scared--awful." This was said in a very positive tone. "Why? What should I be afraid of? I slept alone at boarding school and the winds made dreadful noises sometimes." protested Nora. "Never mind. You be Vita's good baby and Vita give you nice--very good cake tomorrow," coaxed the woman, who now seemed anxious to leave the attic herself. She stirred uneasily. "Well," sighed Nora, "I suppose I can't have any peace if I don't." She threw down the coverlet. "But see, my little clock says eleven, and I don't want to disturb anyone on my very first night. You go down whatever way you came up, Vita; and I'll creep down the front way." The woman's relief was so evident Nora scarcely knew whether to be grateful or suspicious. "Now everything be all right," whispered Vita happily, "and you sleep just like the angel. Here Cap, you go very still," and she patted the dog with a little shove that urged him toward the door. He understood, evidently, for very quietly indeed he shuffled down, his four feet softer than velvet slippers, as he carried his huge body down the darkened stairway. Nora first poked her head out to make sure the coast was clear, then with a motion to Vita, who stood with candle in hand at the attic door, she swept down the stairs and entered the yellow room, into which a soft light from the hall fell in a welcoming path. The bed covers were turned down--Vita must have been determined that Nora should use that bed, and the window was properly opened, for the soft breeze stirred the scrim curtains, and a wonderful woodland scent stole into the room. "It is much better down here," Nora was forced to admit as she snuggled into the gold and blue coverlet. "I guess I was a nuisance to be so obstinate." A few minutes later a step in the hall glided to the electric light button, and the click that followed turned off the light. That must have been Ted, of course, and she must have known that Nora was now safely tucked in the comfortable bed in the guest room. "She was waiting for me too," mused Nora with a twinge of compunction. "I do wonder why they made such a fuss about me staying in the attic?" It was delicious to have every one anxious about her,--so short a time ago no one but the Circle Angel at the Baily School seemed to care whether she slept in her bed or out on the old, tattered hammock, that Barbara wanted to make a tree climber out of; and now in this lovely little bungalow, called The Nest, there were so many beds for her she couldn't choose. All the same, with the insistence of her fancies, visions of goblins and goo-gees up in the attic pranced through her excited brain and made the queerest pictures. She shivered as she remembered them. "But Vita is nothing like a spirit worker," mused the child. "And she is so kind and seems so fond of me." Then she had an inspiration. "I have it," she all but exclaimed aloud. "Vita knows what is wrong and is afraid I will find out. She is not frightened at it or she would not go prowling around in the dark," continued the reasoning, "but she has a secret and it is in that attic." As if this conclusion settled all disturbing doubts, Nora humped over once or twice and then gave in to the sleep her tired little self was so sorely in need of. It was the end of a long and too well filled day. She had left the select school with all the instructions of the Misses Baily fairly hissing in her ears. Then there was Barbara's fun making, in the way of a train letter with all sorts of wild premonitions (they were funny but somehow the train incidents took on the threats of danger Barbara had outlined). But after all, no one had kidnapped her and here she was--yes, asleep in the big fluffy bed in the lovely yellow room. A whistle--Jerry's--brought her back. The daylight was streaming in through that wonderful dew laden vine. And oh, the scent! It was not flowers but woodlands. A bird chirped a polite good morning, and without the usual eye rubbing Nora was sitting up straight and silently thanking the Maker of good things for such a wonderful day. For the first time in her life she felt that her clothes were not appropriate, and it was some moments before she could decide just which little gown to appear in. They really seemed out of place in that rugged country--her laces and ribbons and fine fussings. "I suppose the Girl Scouts do wear practical things," she reflected, "but that horrid khaki!" The thought sent a little shudder through the small, frail shoulders, and Nora, donning her Belgian blue, with brown sandals and two colored socks, was ready, presently, to meet her newly adopted relations. Cap was at her door when she opened it, and this, more than anything else, sent a thrill of joy to her heart. Even a wonderful big dog to welcome her when any dog would surely want to be out doors with Jerry on such a morning! "Come along, Bob," called a man's voice from the lower hall. "We can hardly spare time to eat--there is so much to see this morning." Nora was beside him as he continued: "The kittens are tumbling out of their box, the puppies are fighting over a feather, the chicks are testing their strength on a nice, lively, fat little worm, and oh yes! the calf jumped over the moon--the moon being Ted's home made gate," he finished, with that boyish laugh that always made the house ring merrily. Vita was just coming into the dining room with the muffins as Nora passed her. There was no mistaking the sly wink--the big dark eyes fairly sparkled glints as the maid signalled Nora not to say anything about the attic episode. Nora smiled and nodded, and then the muffins were placed before Mrs. Ted. "Sleep well, dear?" asked that lady presently. "Wonderfully," replied Nora, just a bit cautiously. "I heard you come down stairs and was rather glad you changed your mind," continued the hostess, while she poured Jerry's coffee. "It is much pleasanter on the second floor." For a moment Nora wondered whether this was being said to disguise the real happening. Did Mrs. Manton know that Vita had gone up to rouse her? "Maybe rain today," interrupted the maid, although the sun shone brightly at the moment. "Now Vittoria!" objected Jerry. "You ought to know better than to say rain when I have to go away out to the back woods, and I want to have some real work done today." He glanced over his shoulder at the streaming sunlight. "You're a fraud, or else you are not awake yet," he went on. "There is no more sign of rain than of snow." "I agree with you for once, Jerry," chimed in Ted. "The grass was knitted with cobwebs, the sun came up grey, and besides all that the jelly jelled. Now Vita, you see you are completely left. It is not going to rain." Vita laughed good naturedly. "Then I say it is goin' to shine," she added, and Nora now felt certain her talk had been made to interrupt the comment on the night before. Breakfast passed off in a gale of pleasantries. The home of the Mantons seemed jollier every moment, to Nora. "How about the woods?" asked Jerry, while they lingered over the coffee. "I'm ready," replied Ted, "and I'm sure Nora will want to come." "Oh yes," with a glance at her inadequate costume. "Will this dress be all right?" "If it's the strongest you have with you," replied Ted. "But we have some very saucy briars and brush. We must see about a real woodsy outfit for you." She paused a moment, then continued, "I am sure you will like the Girl Scouts when you get to know more about them. I know a group of the girls and to my thinking they are the real thing in girls." Nora flushed slightly. One point she had made up her mind on. She was not going to lose her identity by joining in with a group of girls who, she imagined, just did as they were told, and apparently had no ideas of their own. Nora had seen some of the Girl Scout literature and it had not impressed her favorably. It was plain and practical, while she longed for novelty. "Well, Bob is going to be my scout, at any rate," chimed in Jerry, quick to sense possible embarrassment. The shade of Nora's cheeks gave him his cue. "We won't talk about the regular Scouts until--well, until later," he finished, in the foolish way he had of making a boy of himself. It was rather foolish, but so jolly. He would wind up everything in just the way Nora never expected, as if his words said themselves. The visitor was conscious now of something unpleasant stealing in upon her. Would Mrs. Manton oblige her to be different? Couldn't she dream and play and fancy all the wonderful things she had been storing up for so long? Wasn't this her dream vacation? Nannie, that play mother of hers, _she_ knew would not want her to change her peculiar characteristics. This sort of reasoning flashed before her mind as the party prepared for a day in the woods. So the little girl in Belgian blue went along with the big man in his knickers and brown blouse, and with the young woman in her service uniform. Nora made an odd little figure, but she was, as she had always been, a picture of a girl. CHAPTER V THE WOODS AT ROCKY LEDGE Out in the woods! Forgotten was the dread idea of a Scout uniform or the possible program of a Scout ritual. Nora romped with Cap, discovering new delights at every few paces and only pausing to exchange salutations with birds, bees and butterflies. The sky was as blue as her gown, and her eyes matched the entire scheme. Her golden hair tossed in the wind like new corn silk, and when Jerry and Ted slyly inspected their charge at a safe distance, a most comprehensive nod of a pair of wise heads told volumes to the woodlands and the surrounding Nature audience. Yes, Nora would do. Now life at the Nest seemed complete. Even this dreamy, romantic little bit of humanity was a real child, and to the pair of adopted parents she seemed as beautiful as a wild flower. "Now Ted, you just hold back on that Scout stuff," Jerry had the temerity to suggest. "We don't want to scare her off, first shot. And you can see she's opposed." "She doesn't understand," replied Ted. "But, of course, there is no need to urge her. No hurry, at any rate." "I don't know as I like the tom-boy idea," continued Jerry. "She's very pretty just as she is." Ted laughed knowingly. "You're the boy who pulls down the shades rather than say 'no' to the peddlers," she reminded him. "It is easy to understand why you are opposing the Scouts." He adjusted his tripod and seemed to have found something very absorbing at that moment. Nevertheless, his big shoulders shook, and his curly head wagged a little suspiciously. They were surveying the end of a big strip of woodland. All over the young forest could be seen the yellow stripes that marked the trees that were to be spared, while those unmarked were doomed for the woodman's ax. Birds liked the yellow-banded trees best, to judge from the perches they made upon such, but of course, they could not have known that the other, not so fortunate, needed their musical sympathy to make less gloomy the approaching execution. "See! Just see!" Nora called, running back from the wild grape-vine cave. "Do come over and see this--little play house. It's perfect as can be, with vine draperies, and moss carpet, and real wild-rose decoration. Cap led me to it, I guess it's his secret place." She was panting with sheer joy. The woods were new to the girl from the boarding school, where walks were confined to the limits of neuritis and neuralgia as "enjoyed" by the Baily Sisters. "Cap'll show you," replied Jerry. "He has nothing to do but hunt while Ted and I work for our living." "Oh, could I help?" Nora felt like an intruder upon their industry. "Not just today, but pretty soon. Perhaps the day after." This was another of Jerry's characteristic replies. Nora understood them better now. "But it is real fun--fun to look through that spy glass. Do you have cobwebs in there?" Asking this brought back to her mind the cobweb nest in the attic. Jerry's reply, however, forestalled further reflection in that direction at the moment. "Some day, pretty soon, perhaps the day after tomorrow," he laughed again, "I'll show you all about this and the cobwebs. Ted has some town stuff to attend to; and listen, Bobbs" (he stepped over and whispered in Nora's ear), "Ted is a perfect terror if she is held too late in the woods. She would starve us to death, like as not, if I didn't get back before the clock cooled striking. So you and Cap just run along and find out what the fairies want from the village, while we mark a few more spots." Was there ever such a jolly man? Once again he had quickly avoided embarrassment to Nora. He would not even let her think she should be useful. "Yes," called Mrs. Manton from her position astride a small white birch, "you and Cap have a good time, Nora. He will teach you to explore." Willingly Nora ran back to the bower she had discovered. Surely it had been fashioned by elves and fairies, for it was perfect in every detail. Unconscious of time, she flitted about making a little window in the wild grape vine, and fashioning a door between the hazel-nut boughs. A murmuring song escaped her lips, while Cap now and then yelped sharply, impatient to be understood and receive attention. "Why, Cap!" asked Nora in reply to one of these outbursts, "I don't quite understand your language. What is it?" The big dog was vainly trying to make Nora see a nest of late sparrows. The tiny feathered babies could just stretch their little heads above the rim of the straw cup of a nest they cuddled in, and when Cap found them he knew he should notify somebody. The bush was so low, although it was safely sheltered by the thick vines, and a wild trumpet vine loaned two beautiful flowers to cheer the little birds during their mother's absence. Still, Cap felt certain it was dangerous for such tiny creatures to be there in the very path of any wild, rough animal happening by. Nora had never seen such baby birds before. First, she wanted to fondle them, but Cap gave warning and she desisted. Then, she wanted to feed them, as if birds could eat the black berries she offered them. But presently the mother bird flew into the bower with such a wild, shrill call, Nora knew her own presence was not desired so near the baby birds, so she followed Cap out into the clearance. As she did she saw approaching a group of girls, and they wore the Girl Scout uniform. At the sight something within Nora seemed to tighten up. The girls were coming straight to the bower and their laughing voices had the strange effect of all but chilling Nora. Without waiting to exchange so much as a smile she called Cap and ran off to the surveyor's camp. "Well," she heard one girl exclaim, as she sped away, "one would think we were--Indians." Nora's ears stung as her cheeks flamed. "There! Wasn't that just what one might expect? As if a girl couldn't do just as she pleased in the woodlands! And they were her own Cousin Jerry's lands too," Nora scoffed. "What's the matter, Nora?" asked Mrs. Manton, as she panting, sank down on a freshly-cut stump. "You don't mean to tell me you are actually afraid of those little girls, just because they wear uniforms?" "Oh, no, Cousin Ted, I am not afraid of them," her voice would shake somehow, "but I didn't know them." "I see. Well, we must all get acquainted in these pretty parts. The birds and the furry things never wait for an introduction," replied Ted, kindly. "Come along with me, Bobbs," called Jerry, who was packing up his instruments. "I need help with this chain; it is bound to snarl." "Jerry!" called out Mrs. Ted rather sharply. "You really must not interfere every time I attempt to tell Nora something useful. I want her to know the Girl Scouts, and the sooner she makes up her mind to do so the happier she will be. The Scouts are all over this place you know, Jerry," and the laughter of the girls up at the bower attested to the truth of that statement. "Anyone who is not interested in Scouting will have a poor chance of a real vacation in the woodlands," concluded Mrs. Manton. "But we are going to scout," insisted the man with the tripod on his shoulder. "The only thing is, we are going to do it in our own way. Isn't that so, Bobbs?" Young and simple minded as was Nora, she was fully conscious of a difference of opinions regarding her management. Jerry was surely siding with her, even in her whims, whereas Ted, mother-like, felt the necessity of giving advice. That was it. She had never before known anything the least bit mother-like. Would she find the relationship too irksome? There was the hint of a tear in her blinking eye when she pulled the kinky tape out for Jerry and felt it snap back into its leather case. After all, things were not exactly as she had pictured them at the Nest. First, she was dragged down from her attic--she felt now she had been dragged down in the very middle of the night by that great, big Vita, and now, there were those horrid Girl Scouts being held up as examples for her to follow and imitate. Well, she would never be a Scout. Each time the question presented itself she felt more decidedly against it. She would always have big Cousin Jerry to stand by her, and if Cousin Ted---- "Want to come to town with me, dear?" called the owner of the name she was opposing. "Sure she does. She is going to ride Cyclone. Aren't you, Bobbs?" This was from Jerry. "I couldn't ride a big horse," faltered the confused girl. "We will go in our handsome ca--our little tame flivver," interrupted Ted. "When you want to ride a horse you will have plenty of time to practice." Mrs. Manton had assembled her tools. Nora marvelled at the strong hands that could so skillfully wield the sharp hatchet and the dangerous-looking trimming knife. Into the loop at her belt Ted carelessly slipped the glittering tools, and as she did so Nora recalled the sight of the dainty hands she had been accustomed to admiring. What would the ladies who visited the school say to a person like Cousin Ted? They were ready to leave for the cottage. Over the hill the Girl Scouts were calling their mysterious "Wha-hoo," and to Nora it sounded like a call to battle. What had at first been merely an indifference was now assuming the proportions of actual dislike. How was Nora to know she was a very much spoiled little girl? And how was she to guess what the cost of her change of heart would mean to her? She was a total stranger to the word "snob." Her training had been one straight line of avoiding this, that, and the other thing; but as for doing this, that and everything, no place was given in the curriculum. Mrs. Manton, herself a product of the most modern college, knew the weakness of little Nora's character at a glance, but to introduce strength and purpose! To bend the vine without crushing the tendrils! This very first day was marked with a danger signal. If Nora slighted the Scouts, they who came almost daily to Ted for information and companionship, there was sure to be trouble. It was this surety that prompted Ted to say with decision: "The sooner Nora gets acquainted the happier she will be." Meanwhile the girls of Chickadee Patrol had all but forgotten about the stranger. They were after specimens and had discovered more than one new bird's nest. Cameras were clicking, notes being taken, and so many interesting matters were being attended to, it was not strange that the sight of one little girl in a pretty blue frock, with a disdainful expression on her otherwise attractive face, might have been forgotten for the time. If there were really fairies in those woods they should have intervened just then, for it would have been so much easier for Nora to have met the Scouts as companions, whereas she, holding away from the very idea of organization, kept building up a dislike which threatened to cause her much unhappiness. The woodlands were broad enough for both to roam, but it was inevitable that both should meet some day, and, under what circumstances? CHAPTER VI A PRINCE IN HIDING When Nora wrote to Barbara she drew word pictures of the beauties at Woodland Wilds. She shed a tear of real joy when writing about Cousin Jerry and Captain, and when she fondly recited the virtues of Cousin Ted she felt she put more in that one word "Motherly" than could otherwise have been conveyed. It was in the writing of that letter that she took account of her actual self, for in wording it she had naturally summed up. "I am not just sure whether I entirely suit or not," she told Barbara. "Sometimes I feel so different. Of course they all love me, even Vita the cook, and I love them fondly, but don't you know, Babs, you always told me I saw 'foohey' and you would not explain what it was to be that way? But I guess I am, whatever it is, for a lot of alterations have already been ordered," she wrote. "My new outdoor clothes have arrived," the letter ran, "they are of brown cloth" (she avoided the use of the word khaki) "and they will stand a lot of hard wear. Cousin Jerry says we get them that color and so we won't scare the birds and other woodland creatures. They are supposed to think we are part of the landscape." Nora then told of the attic, and its chest of treasures, and added she expected to try on a couple of outfits the very first day she was free from accompanying the surveying party. All of which showed the visitor was "taking root," as Jerry would have said. A long tramp out in a marshy territory was to be undertaken by the two veterans, Ted and Jerry, but because of the bad footing Nora was not asked to go along. This provided the very opportunity Nora had been waiting for, and hardly had the reliable old flivver "fluvved" away, then she hurried up to the attic in search of a costume. "Come on, Cap," she whispered, eluding Vita, but unwilling to go up in the attic alone. She had not forgotten the suspicions of her first night. Too glad to obey, Cap led the way, and presently Nora forgot even the "spook cabinet" in her interest over the open costume chest. Things were mussed and musty, rumpled and wrinkled and crinkled; but what colors and what a lot of bright tinsel! "Oh joy," she exclaimed, dragging from the tangles a real Fauntleroy costume. "I have always wanted to see how I would look dressed in this sort of outfit," she thought, for the black velvet "knickers," the little velvet jacket, and the lace blouse were all there, and yes, there was a wonderful, bright silk scarf to go around the waist. The cap was prettiest of all, and it was resting on Nora's yellow curls before Cap could possibly make out what the whole proceedings meant. He stood over in his corner and blinked, but Nora insisted on having his opinion. "Isn't it wonderful, Cap? And don't you like Nora in it?" she demanded. He gave one of his peculiar exclamations rather louder than she had expected, and to prevent the sounds from reaching Vita's ears, Nora put both arms around Cap's neck and hugged him into silence. She was very much excited. Ever since her arrival at the Nest she had been planning a private masquerade, and now the time had come for her to indulge in it. Fanciful dream child that she was, the character of little Lord Fauntleroy had always strongly appealed to her, and as for most girls the boy's costume had a peculiar charm for her heroic ventures into the world of make-believe. "We'll take them down stairs," she told Cap. "We can dress much more comfortably in my room." Poking her head out to make sure Vita was not around, she tucked the velvets and laces into her arms and hurried to the next floor. Seldom had she locked the hall door, but she did so now, dismissing Cap peremptorily, for there was no need of his protection on the second floor. "I suppose it's too big," she reasoned, when the little knickers were pulled up as high as the button and button hole line. Yes, it was big, this costume had been worn by a gay lady at a big country club dance, and little Nora was scarcely a sample of the personality for which the jaunty outfit had been created. But mere size did not worry her. It was effect that she craved. The lacy blouse fell into place quite naturally, and it did look boyish, while the overblouse of black velvet completed the Fauntleroy picture. "If the buckles would only stay buckled," she sighed, trying for the third time to fasten the knee straps and keep them that way. It was not pretty at all to have them slink down below her knees, like an untidy schoolboy; and a pin had no possible effect on the heavy, velvety finish. "I know," breathed Nora, "I'll roll them." And she did that skillfully; for in the season just past many and many a sock had she rolled and they had stayed, although Barbara never could acquire the same knack. It was all finally finished, and she inspected herself in the mirror, slanted to the very last angle to show the full length. A pat of the cap, a brash of the tie and a swish of the flying scarf gave the finishing touches. Really Nora made "a perfectly stunning" little Lord Fauntleroy. Had she been more accustomed to the sayings of the day she might well have exclaimed, "All dressed up and no place to go," but her culture admitted of no such expressive parlance. Instead, she asked herself in the looking glass: "Wonder if I dare go outside? It is so comfortable to wear this style"; and she skipped around as every other girl on earth has ever done the very moment she felt relieved of the trammel of skirts. The morning was unusually quiet. Vita must be away picking greens, the surveyors were miles out, and there was no one but Cap to criticise. Why shouldn't she stroll out grandly in her princely costume? She did. The birds twittered and the rabbits scurried and the pet squirrel stood up and begged. But Nora was not feeding the animals this morning, instead, she flounced her lace sleeve in a most courtly gesture and passed on to the cedar tree grove. Cedars seemed more appropriate for velvets than did the other wild trees; besides, no underbrush grew in the cedar grove, and it was much safer for costly finery. On the rustic seat Nora felt exactly as she had felt the day Miss Baily took her to sit for her picture, except that she crossed her legs comfortably now, whereas, then, she was not even allowed to cross her hands. Presently the actress removed her (his) cap and poised it on the arm of the chair. Did Lord Fauntleroy go out in his grounds alone? Perhaps she should have called Cap to go along. Then came thoughts of Nannie. Why must she, little Nora, always be so far away from that pretty mother? And why did the picture life--the make-believe--charm her like some secret failing? Did other girls really like the horrid brown uniforms never pictured in books, that is, never, until very lately? So raced her unruly thoughts. Everything was so still, but Nora was not lonely--her own reflections kept her such noisy company that isolation had no terror for her. Just outside the cedar grove a strip of road waited for traffic. Few persons passed, but even woodlands must have roads, just as skies must have clouds. Feeling more at home in her costume every moment, Nora stepped proudly outside the grove into the clearance. A fat little hoptoad crossed the path, but otherwise the prince was lord of all he surveyed. The whole world was busy, evidently, and even a visiting prince attracted no attention in the wild woodlands. Nora wanted to whistle. She felt a prince, with hands in pockets inspecting his domain, would surely whistle, but she had never made much of a success at the wind song--it was Barbara who did all the whistling for both. Still, she tried now, and the sound wasn't any worse than the cracked call of the blue-jay, except that it did not carry so far. What would Barbara say to this game of characters? A companion would add to the possibilities of good times, Nora secretly admitted, but what companion could she find in these wilds? Just as a sense of loneliness came creeping over her she heard the leaves somewhere crackle. The next moment a girl appeared a few paces up the road, and called to her quickly: "Oh, I say boy! Have you seen the Girl Scouts----" The voice stopped as suddenly as it had started. The girl in uniform looked so surprised, Nora was conscious of scrutiny, even at the distance between them. She turned her head instinctively and so evaded a direct look; but presently the girl called again: "I am looking for the girls who are going over to the Ledge. Did you happen to see them pass this way?" "No," faltered Nora, in a voice not her own. "I just came along. I'm looking for a car----" "Oh, I saw one. It drove down the turn----" "Thanks," jerked out Nora, taking the cue to escape, and waving her hand in lieu of further conversation. She dodged behind the heavy elderberry bush and almost gasped in fright. What would a Girl Scout think of her in such a costume? Of course, she had no possible opportunity of seeing her face, and she surely could never recognize her again. Making positive she could get back to the Nest without again stepping out into the roadway, Nora sped back as quickly as her feet could carry her. It was always these Scouts; a sense of humiliation was now added to that of dislike. Would they all talk about her? Perhaps make fun of her or think her odd and foolish? Too inexperienced to realize that the entire blame was her own, Nora crept up to the flap-jack path that led directly to the cottage door. Here she was stopped again, for Vita sat out by the big stump, either counting or selecting something from her apron. So engrossed was she in her task she did not hear Nora's footfall, and this gave the "prince" another chance to escape detection. She darted back into the arbor and waited. The only other way to enter the house was at front and she might meet almost anyone in that way. Her game was losing its charm. She would have given much to be free of the finery and garbed again in her own simple clothes. It was rather mortifying to be considered queer, and that one saving grace, a sense of humor, was entirely lacking in the girl's make-up. Otherwise she might have jumped down from a tree and frightened Vita out of her wits, thus making a lark out of a difficulty. She waited impatiently. What could Vita be doing that so held her attention? Then the attic memories flashed back to Nora's mind and she wondered. "Cousin Ted leaves too much to that maid," she was deciding. "I might be able to help by keeping a lookout." But for what? Vita was surely trustworthy and even extremely kind to Nora, the intruder. A burr pricked the knee that refused to hold fast to the buckled finery. It must have been rather a nuisance to dress like that. Nora rolled the band tighter and lost her fancy hat in the effort. Voices! Girls' laughter. The Scouts, of course, and coming back toward the cottage! Without waiting to consider Vita's opinion, Nora sprang from her hiding place and darted up the path into the cottage. Voices within as well as without! Cousin Ted was back from the woods and had company. How could Nora reach her room without being seen? She crouched behind the kitchen cabinet, hoping the voices would leave the hall and enter the living room, but, evidently, there was a reason for delay, and the big seat was right at the foot of the stairway! Now Vita's flat slippers patted the stones and she was coming into the kitchen. Disgusted with the entire affair, Nora turned into the back stairway. She had never mounted those stairs, they were used only by the maid, but just now there seemed no other avenue of escape. She heard the shuffling feet of Vita as she climbed the bare treads. They were narrow and dark, only a small window cut in an opening somewhere allowed enough light to penetrate to make sure the steps were those of stairs. A narrow landing marked the line where the second floor must be. Then there was another turn, a sort of sharp twist in the queer ladder-like climb. Nora was too far up now to hear Vita's step in the kitchen. "But this must lead to the attic," she reasoned. "I may as well go on up as to go--down." Cobwebs a-plenty here. She jerked back from their tangles, fearing spiders and other crawling things. "Oh," she exclaimed. "I do wish I had not come this way. It's so--spooky!" At every step the darkness increased and the light dwindled. Reaching a good-sized platform, Nora stood, thankful to draw an easy breath. She could just about see that she had only one short flight of steps to go to reach a door. "I would never have believed this house was so high," she pondered. "I feel as if I came up from a cellar to a tower." Then, resolutely, the pilgrim started on again. Only a few steps and she found herself face to face with two doors. They were unpainted and each stood at angles from the landing. "Which?" she asked instinctively; for, while she wanted to reach the attic, she was careful to remember which way she had come in this crooked, gloomy place. Besides this, the attic was a mysterious part of that pretty house, Nora realized. "It must be all right to go in here--all of the rooms are ours and Cousin Ted said they were all kept clean." With this caution she pushed open one of the unpainted doors and stepped inside. She gasped! The place was in almost total darkness! CHAPTER VII CAP TO THE RESCUE Where was she? What could be so black? Nora gasped--it was so stifling. Fumbling in the strange place her hand found the door and as she pressed against it she heard it shut! "Oh mercy!" she exclaimed aloud. "I'm shut in this awful place!" Now her eyes could make out the rafters. It was the attic, but what part of it? The faintest gleam of light breaking in from above followed the rough beams. The frightened girl fell back breathing hard and feeling faint. To faint in the attic! Surely that would be romantic! But she didn't want to faint all alone up there and maybe die and not be found for years, as she had read happened once to a bride who went up to look for her grandmother's quilt. She was so dizzy. She really must sit down. Not even a hazy fear of rats roused her, for it was unbearably hot and stuffy. "O-o-o-h!" That was the end of Nora for the time being. She succumbed to the first faint she had ever performed, and there was no one to see her, no one to rescue her, not one even to know where she was! Such a little prince! Velvets and ribbons brushed cobwebs and dust, as she slumped down, down----! Of all her life's dreams what she dreamed when she breathed again seemed the strangest. But it was all broken up like pieces of stars mashed into flashes of dazzling light, and there was no more head nor tail to it. All she could think of was how tired she was, and she knew she just had to sleep. If spiders had any talent for observing, those in that cubby hole would have had a wonderful story to tell to the crawling things in roof and rafters, but even they did not so much as try, with a web, to arouse the half-conscious child, and one lacy net was so near Nora's face her gasps of breath swayed and rocked the baby spider in its cradle. So there she was asleep now, and glad not to know! Downstairs supper had been prepared and everyone was waiting for Nora. Who had seen her? Where had she spent the afternoon? "Vita," said Jerry sharply, "you know you were not to let the child go off these grounds alone." "I no see her, never. She no come out from the house," protested the frightened Vita. "Well, we have got to search," decided Ted, her bronzed face plainly showing alarm, and her brown eyes blinking with unnamed fears. "Where has Cap been?" again demanded Jerry. "He should have been with her." "He went with the Scouts; they asked for him, and of course, I let him go as usual. I did not know Nora was going out, in fact, I thought she was going to write to her school mates," replied Ted. "But don't let us waste time. I'll take the north way, Vita you go by the Ledge, and Jerry, I suppose you will jump on a horse and scout every way." "Yes, I'll take Cap and send him on ahead." All the laugh was gone from Jerry's voice now. How quickly the cloud of Anxiety can darken the brightest home? More than an hour later all three searchers returned to the Nest and admitted they could not find Nora. "She couldn't be in the house, could she?" asked Ted, disconsolately. "We looked hastily, but it was best to do all the outdoor looking first," replied Jerry. "Do you suppose she went to visit anyone? Did she make friends with Alma and Wyn, our pet Scouts?" "I wish she had. There's that about the Scouts, they go in groups," answered Ted, with feeling. "Let us look over the house more carefully. But why should she hide?" A loud bark from Cap answered that question. "Here! Cap knows where she is. Let him find her," exclaimed Jerry, joyfully. "It's at the kitchen door," added Ted, hurrying in that direction. "Quick, open the door, Vita!" commanded Jerry, while the dog barked wildly. Vita put a trembling hand on the door that led to the back stairs and opened into the kitchen. No sooner had she done so than Cap bounded past her, and the next moment the big dog and the forlorn little prince tumbled into the room. "Nora!" exclaimed both Jerry and Ted. "It isn't! It can't be!" faltered the surprised maid. "This is boy----" "Boy nothing!" almost shouted Jerry, so glad to see Nora in any guise that her strange costume interested him not at all. "The poor little darling," cried Ted, gathering the black velvet form up into her arms. "What ever happened to you, dear?" Nora brushed a dusty hand over her blinking eyes. "Oh, I am so glad I am saved. I thought I would surely die." "Up attic. Why baby! No one could die in our attic. Cap knew you were up there and if you had not tumbled down just when you did he would have gone through the wall to find you, wouldn't you, old fellow?" Jerry asked fondly. The Saint Bernard was in his native element at the rescue work, and he licked Nora's hand contentedly. Ted had gathered the child up into her arms and Vita was already busy getting a refreshing drink. Jerry, manlike, just looked on, happy beyond words, for in the bad hour previous he was a prey to keen anxiety, and during the process made up his mind in the future to keep Nora closer to the family circle at all times. Nora had not yet come to the point of talking. Her swoon and its consequent haziness left her in a daze, and with the mother-like arms about her, and the breath of Cap reviving her, and Cousin Jerry's big soft eyes encouraging her, the relief from her fright was slowly creeping over her and it was so delicious she had no idea of dispelling it with mere words. "I know," said Teddie softly, "you were playing parts, dressing up in the duds from the big chest." "Did you go to sleep in the trunk?" ventured Jerry, slyly. "No, I don't know just where I was--I was----" faltered Nora, now beginning to feel a little foolish in her boy's outfit. "She went up wrong stairs and I guess, maybe, she got lost in the big open attic," Vita volunteered, apparently anxious to forestall further questions. "No, it was not opened. It was shut tight--very tight," snapped Nora. She resented Vita's explanation. Somehow she felt Vita was to blame. "Then you must have struck the spook closet," said Jerry, his old happy tones ringing through the small kitchen. "Say Ted, let's get into the other room. Can you walk, Bobbs, or shall big Cousin Jerry carry you?" "Oh, I can walk all right," replied Nora, slipping to the floor from Teddie's lap. "But I was so stiff and cramped and--I guess I must have fainted." "You must have been up there all the time we were hunting for you, and the attic is always hot," added Ted. "I never thought of looking there." "But Cap did. He knew where you were the moment he came in the house," said Jerry proudly. "I tell you, Cap is a regular life-saver. He will have to get another medal for this; even if he didn't drag you out of the spook cabinet, he did tumble in the kitchen with you." Both Jerry and Ted were too considerate to show surprise at Nora's appearance, but Vita could not or did not attempt to hide her astonishment. "Guess she thinks the fairies had you," said Jerry softly, when Vita stood in the doorway, her hands on her capable hips and her mouth wide open in a gasp of surprise. But Nora had an uncertain feeling that Vita, as sole tenant of the back stairway, should have made better arrangements than to have a door that would spring shut like that, right at the very top of the dark place. It was at this point a mistake was made. Nora did not express herself and Vita had no idea of explaining. Mr. and Mrs. Jerry were supposed to know all about the Nest, but did they! In the excitement of finding Nora, the actual hiding place was not being considered. Quickly as the little girl recovered her self-possession and took part in the conversation, everyone enjoyed a good hearty laugh, naturally led by Jerry. "What special kind of prince were you, Bobbs?" he asked jovially. "I did not know they hid in dark attics." "Oh, yes they did," contradicted Ted. "Don't you remember the princes in the tower?" "I don't, but it doesn't matter. They must have been in a tower or you would not have included the fact in your college course," replied Jerry, always ready to tease on that score. Whenever Ted found a new specimen in the woods, or questioned about a strange bird, he would invariably ascribe the matter to "her college course." Nora was anxious to get out of the ill-fated costume. She wanted to run upstairs and change, now that her knees had stopped shaking, but Ted insisted she take her supper just as she was, and readily made a merry time out of the near catastrophe. Again Nora missed the point--no sense of humor was a sad lack in so active a girl. Cap regarded her with an eye almost twinkling. Did he know the attic secret that she had been unable even to realize was a secret? "Your clothes fit pretty well," said Jerry, "but I think I like you best in your Little Girl Blue dress. Guess, after all, girls really shouldn't wear----" "Now, there you go again, Jerry Manton," interrupted Ted. "As if the costume had anything to do with Nora getting lost." And all the while Nora was thinking: "If they only knew." But she had never had any one to confide in, except Barbara, and now she did not know exactly how to tell her story. Besides, how silly it would be to say she had actually been out in the roadway in the Fauntleroy clothes? And if they ever knew she had been seen and spoken to by a Girl Scout! The fear of humiliation crushed back any desire to tell the whole story and so it remained as it appeared, an incident of no more importance than a case of being lost in the attic. All the horrors of the black hole, all the terrors of her fright and faintness, besides what actually happened when she finally burst through that door and all but fell head-long down the dark stairs--this Nora crushed back from her lips, and only dared to think of it as something she would write in her secret diary. Perhaps she would tell Barbara. It was too thrilling to remain a secret with no one but herself to ponder upon it. A refreshing bath, more beef tea and a bedtime story told by the affectionate Cousin Teddie one hour later, all but dispelled the trying memory. The story was one read from a favorite woodland series, in which children, birds and furry things found days of happiness in the carefree hours, far away from artificial restrictions of "Do" and "Don't." The girls mentioned in the story were not spoken of as Scouts, but Nora suspected they must have been very much like such in ideals. "You see," said Teddie gently, when she had finished the interesting story, "girls who love nature find real joy in studying the woods and learning to love the woodland creatures. You have had no chance to know what such pleasure means, dear." "No," said Nora faintly. And at that moment she decided to put on her new uniform the very next morning, and then go forth with Cousin Ted and Cousin Jerry in quest of the adventures promised. "I guess," she began timidly, "it is better, Cousin Teddie, for me to go along with you every day, if you don't mind." "Why, I can't bear to leave you home, either with Vita or to your own resources," declared Ted. "But I didn't want to urge you. Your experience today may be a good thing in the end--it may help to cure you of the artificiality you have been absorbing so deeply. I will have to write your mother a bit of advice. I do not believe her little daughter is getting the sort of education best for her. Now, roll over and go to sleep." She pressed a fond kiss on the warm cheek. "And Nora love, don't bother about dreaming," finished Mrs. Jerry Manton, in a tone of voice not learned during her famous "college course." CHAPTER VIII THE STORY ALMA DID NOT TELL Under a canvas tent sheltered by a particularly broad chestnut tree and surrounded by a group of beautiful white birch, the girls of Chickadee Patrol, Girl Scouts, were listening, all attention, to the very wildest tale they had ever given ears to. Alma was talking. "Honestly girls," she insisted, "he was a real prince, dressed in black velvet and a beautiful jaunty cap----" "Alma! Alma!" shouted her companions in derision. "Where did you see the fairies? Just imagine in broad daylight in the woodlands----" teased one. "Then, I shall not tell you anything more about it," desisted the abused one. "As if I wasn't surprised. Why, I was so dumfounded I could not ask him if he saw you, and I was miles behind the crowd." "Now girls, let Alma tell," chirped Doro, in her lispy voice. "Go ahead, Al. _I_ believe you saw Prince Charming." "Was he old enough to ride a horse?" asked Laddie, christened Eulalia. She was defying her dentist on a piece of fudge two days old. "Honestly, girls," began Alma again, "I never saw a boy so beautiful. Light curls----" "Oh!!!" came a chorus that stopped the narrator and sent her pouting over to the bed couch, where she pouted still more. "Then, all right, I am absolutely through," she declared quite as if she meant it. "Now just see what you have done," mourned Treble. She was so tall the girls always considered her in that clef. "Don't you mind them, Allie. I know perfectly well there are even flying cupids in the big woodlands, and I fully expect to bring a couple home to lunch----" Cushions in one big bang stopped Treble. At this rate Alma's story would never be published, orally or otherwise. In the Scout tent the evening was being spent in recreation: hence the fun they were having with Alma. At a table fashioned from an upside-down packing case, with real hand carved legs where the boards were knocked out and the hatchet braces left standing, sat three of the Chickadees, discussing the new Girl Scout stories. "I just love the first," insisted Thistle whose name was as Scotch as the emblem. "I liked the mill story and I just loved that wild, exciting time the girls had trying to win back--was it Dagmar?" "Oh, yes, I remember," chimed in Betta. They were referring to the first volume, "The Girl Scout Pioneers," but others of the group spoke up for their particular choice of the series, naming, "The Girl Scouts at Bellaire" and "The Girl Scouts at Sea Crest." "You may have those," offered Doro, "but I perfectly love this." She held up the last book published. It was entitled "The Girl Scouts at Camp Comalong." "Why is that such a prize?" inquired Pell. "Oh, haven't you read it? Well, it is a real story of the most interesting girl, Peg of the Hills." This brought about a general discussion of the entire series, and although the method being used is not usually employed to remind readers of the other books of a series, perhaps, since the girls were speaking for themselves, it will be accepted. Alma was whispering her Prince Charming story into the ears of Doro. Doro was accredited the very best listener among the Chicks and she had not the faintest idea of interrupting the story teller. Of course, it was Nora whom Alma had encountered, and it was not difficult to understand why her companions should discredit the tale. A prince in the woodlands, indeed! "Louder, Alma," begged Treble, catching only enough of the story to make her curious. "Well, you won't believe me." "We will! We will! Hear! Hear!" shouted Betta, whose full appellation was none other than Betta-be-good, given because she had a habit of lecturing. "She did see a real prince," chimed in Doro. "And he did wear buckles and laces and everything." "Where, oh where, fair maid? Lead me thither and hither and yon," moaned Pell Mell. "Next to a movie star I love a prince best," she finished dramatically, although it was common knowledge that Pell loved nothing so well as rushing about and falling over adventures. She actually fell over the Ridge, that is as far down as the big flat rock, before her chums decided she was hereafter to be known as Pell Mell. "That is all there is to tell," announced Alma, in a tone tinctured with finality. She knew perfectly well the girls would never rest until they had sought out the darling prince, and she also knew it would be lots of fun to make them "sit up and beg" for the details they had been scoffing at. "Where, Alma?" "Near the bend, Alma?" "Wasn't it over by the Nest, Al?" "She said she saw him over by the Ledge." All this and much more was thrown out as bait, but in the parlance of the tribe, Alma did not "bite," she merely picked up a discarded book and proceeded to read. "Well, there was a prince, I'm sure of that," persisted Pell, determined to make Alma repeat her story. "Let's go prince hunting tomorrow," suggested Betta. "With Treble's moth scoop?" joked Wyn. "I suppose none of you happen to know that Mrs. Jerry Manton has a visitor," spoke Doro. She gave the statement a tone implying: "Why wouldn't the prince be the visitor?" "Oh, that's so," drawled Thistle. "Maybe it's the duke." This brought out a new shout of nonsense. "Duke!" roared Betta. "Keep on and we'll have him on the throne." "There are no more thrones," informed Pell. "Don't you know the war made every thing democratic?" This turned the joke into a serious moment, for even the rollicking Scouts did not feel inclined to enlarge upon so serious a thought. Presently everyone was speculating upon the possibility of the little stranger being the one entertained by the Mantons. "Couldn't we call?" suggested Wyn. "Mrs. Manton is always lovely to us, and if she has such a little cherub on her hands we ought to help her care for him." "Cherub, Wynnie! Why, we would have to get a cage for anything like that in this camp. He would be eaten by bugs, moths and beetles." A dash at a flying thing confirmed this opinion from Treble. "Now, if you all have finished your skylarking I would like to study," announced Alma. "I have to learn all that new class lesson, and I hope to get out of the Tenderfoot tribe before next week. No fun swimming in a barrel." She referred to the water restrictions of "Tenderfoots." "Hush girls! Alma is thinking," joked Pell. "Please don't interrupt the spell----" Poor Alma could stand the teasing no longer. She picked up her manual and headed for the tent occupied by those very studious Scouts who chose the company of the leader to that of the distracting girls. "Chickadees never scratch," fired Betta as Alma stepped over protruding feet and reached the tent flap. "Now Chick-a-dee, Peep! Peep! Pretty for the ladies----" But the girl with the manual was gone. "What do you make of it?" asked Pell, when the titters subsided. "She saw something different, that's sure," replied Treble. "She told me all about it," put in Thistle proudly. "And it was really a wonderful child all done up in black velvets and ribbons," she declared. "I see nothing to do but ask Mrs. Manton about it," suggested Wyn. "It looks like a first class lot of fun." "Ask her if she is entertaining a boy in velvet pants?" said Treble, so foolishly, the girls all but rolled under the table and the oil lamp shook dangerously in the merriment. "When they're velvet they're never pants," spoke Wyn, as soon as speaking amounted to anything. "Trousers," amended Treble. "Nor those," objected Pell. "When they have cute little buckles and go with a jaunty cap----" "They're knickers," finished Betta. "Not a--tall," shouted Treble. "I know better than that myself. You're thinking of golf. Didn't I see Lord Fauntleroy play his Dearest?" "Did you really? Well, what did _he_ call call them?" demanded Thistle. She had been so busy enjoying the fun that this was her first attempt at making any. "I have it," sang out Laddie. "They're bloomers." "Oh no, rompers," insisted Thistle. "Rompers are much prettier." "What ever would you girls have done this evening if Alma's little story did not furnish you with debate material," scoffed Doro. "The story Alma never told," chanted Lad. "All the same," declared Treble, "it is perfectly delicious. Who's going to make the call on Mrs. Jerry Manton?" The shout that followed this question brought a protest from the next tent where candidates were studying manuals. "Let's take a vote on it," suggested Thistle, when quiet seemed possible. "Since every one wants to go and we haven't heard the Mantons were going to give a picnic or anything like that--why--the best thing to do is to draw lots." "How tragic! Draw lots! I say we make it numbers from Doro's cap. Here girls, get busy and numb." A page of note paper was quickly numbered and torn into squares. Then the lot was tossed into Doro's cap--it was the deepest for the little girl did not wear her hair bobbed. When the cap was filled she was the one chosen to hold it, and upon the highest chair she presently stood while the girls jumped for numbers. The four highest were to constitute the committee and the lot fell to Betta, Pell, Wyn and Thistle. It was arranged that these four should go in the morning to call upon Mrs. Jerry Manton, their good friend and erstwhile preceptor in woodlore, and it was fully expected that the young visitor would then naturally be introduced. And this was the very day that Nora donned her new service suit. CHAPTER IX A MISADVENTURE The idea of meeting a prince (the girls easily believed the pretty boy in the velvet suit was at least a near-prince) brought to the Chickadees a delicious thrill. "You know," reasoned Thistle next morning, "the Manton's are government people, and there are lots of foreign nobles down at Washington." "That's so," agreed Doro. "He might have come up to the woods for his health." The tent was quickly made ready for inspection and when the woodcraft class was dismissed, the girls were free to make the all-important call. It was but a short distance from Camp Chickadee to the Nest, and the four girls, constituting the committee, covered the ground speedily. Vita answered the knock and told Pell, who was spokeswoman, that: "Mrs. Manton no come back yet." Nora not only heard the voices but she had seen the girls coming, and feeling that she, as a member of the family, should "do the honors," she summoned courage to greet the callers. "Cousin Teddie will not be back before lunch time," said Nora sweetly. "Won't you come in and wait?" "Oh, no, thank you," faltered Thistle, observing one truant curl that had escaped the confines of Nora's field hat. "We may come over later in the afternoon--after drill," finished the Scout. Pell was more composed. "Are you visiting Rocky Ledge?" she asked cordially. "Oh, yes. I expect to stay quite a while," replied Nora. She liked the roguish smile Pell bestowed upon her--it was, somehow, a little like Barbara. "Then perhaps you would like to visit camp," pressed Thistle. "We love callers, don't we, girls?" This provided an opportunity for general conversation, and presently, no one knew just how it happened, but the Scouts and Nora the rebel, were having a perfectly splendid time on the side porch, talking about the things girls love to discuss, but which always appear to the onlooker or listener as a series of giggles and gasps. Nora was so glad she wore the khaki suit. All her old love of finery was, for the time, lost in the joy of feeling "in place" instead of "out of place." And the girls at close range did look very well in their uniforms. Betta and Thistle especially were just like models--Nora remembered that wonderful Girl Scout poster, and her former dislike for the uniform now threatened to turn to keen admiration. Just so long as anything "made a picture" the artistic little soul was sure to be satisfied. Changing an opinion was as simple a task for Nora as changing a hair ribbon, but it had been rather unpleasant to have the Scouts always held up as paragons. Admitting she had not yet visited the Ledge, Nora was straightway invited to do so, as the four Scouts expected to meet the other troup members out gathering sweet fern there. "Vita," she called back to the maid in the kitchen, "you keep Cap home, I'll be back in a little while." "Oh, no," objected Vita. "Mr. Jerry, he say you don't go never without Cap----" "But I am with the girls now," declared Nora a little sharply. She was so afraid the others might guess that it was she who wore the velvets! Looking very closely at each, however, she had not recognized the one who accosted her on the fatal dress-parade day. Alma was not in the party this time, so of course, Nora was correct in her opinion. "Doesn't Mr. Manton like to have you go out alone?" asked Thistle, innocently. "Well, you see," stumbled Nora, "I am not very well acquainted yet." "Was there a little boy visiting the Mantons the other day?" ventured Betta. She was almost consumed with curiosity, and as they turned their backs on the cottage the chance for unravelling the prince mystery seemed lost to them. "A boy? No," replied Nora. "I am the only one who has been here." A flame of color swept her face and although she stooped to pick up an acorn at the moment, at least two of the Scouts noticed the flush. "Light curls," whispered Wyn. "She has very pretty ringlets----" "Lots of girls have, of course," scoffed Betta. "You surely don't think she's twins?" "No," faltered the other, never dreaming how much closer than twins Nora was to the little prince. But Wyn was not easily satisfied. What was the sense of being appointed a committee to investigate and not do it? She picked a wonderful spray of pink clover before she asked Nora again: "Do you ever see a little boy, a very fancy dressed boy, around the cottage? One of our girls dreamed she saw one and we have been trying to persuade her she had a vision." A sigh of relief escaped Nora's lips. It should be easy to laugh the story over, since only one girl had seen her and that one had but a glimpse of her. She felt she would die of embarrassment now, if ever she were really found out. And only a few days ago it had seemed so trifling a thing! As she was about to reply to Wyn her hat fell off and down tumbled the curls. "What wonderful curls," exclaimed Wyn innocently. "Why do you hide them under a hat?" "Oh, I don't," replied Nora bravely, shaking out the golden cloud that tossed about her ears. "But when we go into brambles it is more comfortable to have one's head tidy," she finished. "Say, Wyn," charged Thistle, "do you suppose Nora has no other interest than in your visionary prince and yellow curls? Please allow her to listen to some of my woodland lore." "Oh, yes," mocked Betta. "Tell her all about your little fish in the brook that wouldn't go near Treble's hook." A scamper brookward responded to this sally. "Oh, there's Jimmie," cried Thistle. "Hey Jimsby!" she hailed to a small boy in a big boat. "Wait for us. We are going up to the Ledge. Give us a row?" Everyone, including Nora, ran towards the edge of the stream that rippled through willows. Jimmie with his boat was rare good fortune to come upon, and the Scouts were instantly eager to procure seats in the big, old skiff. Nora's timidity forced her to hold back, but she was too self-conscious to admit it. "Come on, little Nora," called out Thistle good naturedly. "I have a place for you right alongside of me." "Oh yes. Thistles never sink, you know," added Wyn. Nora's heart heat fast. Could she say she would so much rather walk to the Ledge? "Hurry up, Sister," sang out Betta. "Thistle wants to get out of rowing and you are her excuse." Taking her fright literally in her hand and casting it into the brook, Nora stepped into Jimmie's boat, smiling as if she were expecting the best good time of her life. A thought of her nervous mother barely had time to shape itself before all were seated, and the freckled faced Jimmie handed over the oars, without so much as uttering either a protest or agreeing to the piracy. "Don't you love a little lake like this?" asked Betta, noticing how silent was her companion. "I have never been on the water," said Nora truthfully. "At our school we are not allowed to take part in any dangerous sports." "Oh," exclaimed Thistle. "How you must miss good times." "But we have many lovely parties and dances and all that sort of thing," explained Nora. Her voice was entirely friendly and the difference of opinions by no means clashed. It was delightful. The girls sang, whistled, shouted and coo-heed, as occasion demanded, the occasion being that of answering bird calls from shore. Imitating birds was counted as the latest outdoor sport, and the Chickadees vied with one another in the accomplishment. "She's leakin'," said Jimmie without warning or apology. "I should say she is!" cried Wyn, jerking her feet up from the bottom of the boat. "Jimmie Jimbsy! Why didn't you say so?" "Oh, you didn't give me a chance," replied the lad frankly. "Oh, is it dangerous?" gasped Nora. Her cheeks went pale instantly. "No, just gives us a chance to show who is the best swimmer. You can swim, of course?" asked Wyn. "No, not a stroke," replied the frightened Nora. "Don't you mind Wynnie, Nora," spoke up Betta. "There's no possibility of any one having to swim. This boat would sail the rapids, wouldn't she, Jimmie?" "Here's another hat," offered Thistle. "Say, Jim! At least you ought to bring a tin can," she said in her jolliest tone. They were actually bailing out. The water managed to make cold little puddles in the bottom of the boat, and with the "large party aboard" as Pell charged Wyn because she happened to weigh a few more pounds than the others, the inflow threatened to bear the little craft down to the water's edge, uncomfortably close. But the girls were making a lark of it. Every time a hat emptied a shout went up, and every time a hat leaked a groan moaned out. "All in a life time," boomed Thistle. "But don't any one dare tell that story about the philosopher and the boatman." "Never heard it," responded Betta, lifting a particularly well filled hat to the boat's edge. Jimmie was now rowing. "Assisting him in that capacity," as Pell expressed it, was Wyn. "We gotta reach the Ledge," joked Thistle, "and I for one hate walking on the water." "We betta----" "Betta-be-good," went up the shout as Betta attempted to preach. She never got farther than that first mispronounced two syllables nowadays. Nora was now regarding the situation with more calmness. After the first fright it did not seem so dangerous, and the skill with which the jolly Scouts handled the task of bailing, was fascinating. But suddenly something happened; no one shouted, no one even spoke, but in a twinkling the entire boatload of girls were scrambling in the water. CHAPTER X A NOVEL INITIATION "Quick girls! Get Nora!" This was the order given by Pell, who in emergencies assumed leadership. "Here Nora," called Betta, "just put your hand on my shoulder. We can almost walk in. Don't be frightened." But Nora was terribly frightened. That water! And not being able to swim a stroke! "Look!" called out Thistle, who was now standing in the more shallow water, "it is only up to my shoulders. Just bring Nora out here and she can wade in," announced the Scotch girl. The sight of Thistle actually standing on her feet brought to Nora the first free breath she had breathed since that awful thing happened. Now she had courage to stop choking and do as she had been told. "Why, you swam that time," puffed Betta to whom Nora had struggled. Did she really swim? She felt herself buoyed up for a moment somehow, in fact she had never gone down. Before that supporting move had lost its endurance her hand was safely on Betta's shoulder, and both were moving slowly but securely towards the bank. "That's it," Pell encouraged. "No need for any trouble if you just keep--cool!" "Cool enough," grumbled Thistle. "I hate lakes for that," she continued to call out. "How's that!" asked Betta when she reached the shallow water from which point all were wading in. "Wonderful!" exclaimed Nora. Her relief was so great it seemed to her pure joy. "Your first?" asked Wyn. "First?" repeated Nora. "First ducking," added Wyn. "If so it is your official initiation. You are now a full fledged member of the Chickadees." It was easy for Nora to laugh--she felt she would never do anything but laugh, it was so good to be safe within reach of shore once again. Thistle and Wyn threw their wet heads back and emitted a "coo-hee." The call was taken up by the others, and instead of the incident being of an alarming nature it was thus turned into a lark. "Coo-hee! Coo-hee!" sounded along the little lake basin, while shouts of laughter and expressions of opinion about bobbed heads after an unexpected ducking, were snapped from Scout to Scout as the party waded in. So near the edge they were loath to emerge. No possibility of getting any wetter or spoiling anything more generally, but there was a possibility of more fun. "Where's that Jimbsy boy?" demanded Pell. "We didn't leave him to the sharks, did we?" "Look," replied Thistle, pointing to a little slash in the lake's outline. It was a pocket full of water just about big enough to float the upturned boat that Jimmie was pushing in through it. "Poor boy! And we never asked him what he was out after," reflected Betta. "Maybe he had an order to bring a boat load of passengers from the Ledge." "We'll take up a collection for him," proposed Pell. "What'll we collect?" asked Wyn. "Opinions," replied the first. "They're most plentiful." Nora was out of water and shaking herself like a poodle. Now that it was all over, the thrill was unmistakable. "Look who's coming!" called out one of the girls, and turning around Nora glimpsed Ted coming down the narrow path. "Quick, Nora, hide!" exclaimed Wyn. "Then spring out and surprise her." Obeying, Nora jumped behind a big bush. Even in the excitement she realized what companionship meant. It was so much more fun than playing at foolish dressing up and imagination games. Could she have but understood more clearly she would have recognized in that situation the theory of having girls "do" to learn, and that active sport of the young is one of the standards of Scout teaching. She listened as the girls greeted Mrs. Manton. No gasps of alarm nor expressions of fear were exchanged, for Cousin Ted was of the Scout calibre herself. "Better hang on the hickory limbs and dry, before your leader sees you," she cautioned. "Those uniforms won't be fit for parade." "And mine was all beautifully pressed," whimpered Pell. "So were all our suits, Mrs. Manton," asserted Thistle, "because we were calling on you first." "Really! Did you see my little girl?" "Oh, yes," drawled Betta. "I so want her to grow into scouting," continued Mrs. Manton, and at that Nora felt she could make her presence known. But a quick snap of a stick from Betta, as she swished it back of Nora's bush, kept her from stepping out. "Does she like the water?" asked Wyn, with a suppressed giggle. "I am afraid she has had little chance to get acquainted with it," replied Ted. "Nora has been developed at one angle. This sort of experience would probably give her nervous prostration." That was the cue. Nora jumped out! "Child!" "The very same!" pronounced Thistle grandly, waving a dripping arm. Mrs. Manton was too surprised to do more than look at Nora. Her brown eyes were twinkling and her mouth twitching in a broad grin. Presently she jumped past Betta and threw her arms around Nora. "You darling baby!" she exclaimed, all unmindful of the water she was blotting up from Nora's new suit. "How ever did you--come here and get--like--this?" "Chick-chick-chick-Chickadees!" sang out a chorus. "Cluck! Cluck! Cluck!" If one could look pretty after a ducking in a strange lake, Nora did. Her curls liked nothing better, and her cheeks pinked up prettily, while her eyes--they were as blue as the violets that listened in the underbrush. "You don't mind her initiation, do you, Mrs. Manton?" asked Wyn. "Why no. In fact, I'm delighted," replied the young woman. "But why the secret? I have been left out in the cold," she said, genially. "Only candidates are informed," said Wyn, keeping up the joke. "Was that really it? Was this a private initiation, and am I intruding?" "All over," sang out Betta. "The bars are down and the guests welcome." "Betta be goin' up the hill a bit," suggested Thistle. "This is no place for dripping chicks." "The sun _would_ be helpful," agreed Pell. "I don't mind the water when it's fresh, but I hate to get mildewed." "Hey!" came a call from somewhere. "Wanta get in again?" "We certainly do not," yelled back Wyn. "Jimbsy James, you're a fraud. What ails your yacht, anyway?" "All right, then," called back Jimmie good naturedly. "I'll be goin'. So long!" "So long yourself," called back Wyn, "and send your bill to headquarters." "Were you--in his boat?" asked Ted, a light beginning to break through the girls' perpetual nonsense. "We were, momentarily," replied Betta. "But we needed exercise so we decided to walk," she finished. Nora saw how friendly the girls all were with Ted, and felt a pang, not of jealousy, but of regret. Why had she never known such companionship? "I must go back to my trees," said Mrs. Manton, when the girls had found a clear path of sunshine. "I have some important marking to do. Nora, you follow directions and you need not fear earth, sky or water. These little Scouts are impervious to all catastrophes." And Nora had almost expected to be sent home for a rub down, a hot drink and all the other coddling! "Oh, I'm all right," she hurried to reply. "I'll be home----" "When the ceremonies are over," interrupted Thistle. "We are due at the Ledge long ago, and if we don't soon make it I am afraid we will all be kept in tonight." "In those wet things?" protested Wyn. "Not for me. I'm going back to camp and change. Come along Nora. We have an extra outfit in our box and we'll lend it to you. Thistle is a regular fish, she is never happy when dry skinned." Mrs. Manton had disappeared in the winding path and Nora was secretly glad of Wyn's invitation. She could not as yet actually enjoy wet clothes. The girls had managed to save their hats and caps, but even these still dripped and could not be comfortably worn to keep off the strong sun's rays that beat down in the clear spots along the lake's edge. "We'll have some trouble explaining to the general," remarked Thistle as they started back to camp. "And this was the day we were to finish our collection." "But look, what we did collect," answered Wyn under her breath, referring to Nora. "Did you ever see anyone so pleased as our friend?" "She looked happy," assented Thistle. "But say, Scoutie; whatever are we going to tell the girls about the prince?" "Let's say we drowned him," suggested Wyn, foolishly. "That will give Alma a lovely murder mystery to work upon." Nora overheard the word "prince" and surmised correctly it was meant for her Fauntleroy. She longed to turn back to the Nest rather than meet the other girl who might recognize her. "It's so near lunch time----" she began. "Oh, no girlie," protested Betta. "You are the only specimen we have collected today, and if you don't come back with us we will all get dreadful marks. Come along. Be a sport and help us out." "Yes, we will be considered life savers, perhaps," added Thistle. "Of course, we won't say we did anything noble----" "Nor say we didn't," drawled Wyn. Thus urged, Nora had no choice, so she set off with her new companions towards Chickadee Camp. CHAPTER XI TOO MUCH TEASING Swept off her foolish feet of fancy and landed safely on the more practical ground of girls' life, Nora presently found herself in the canvas tent, actually donning a Scout uniform. No ivory dressing comb nor shell-back mirror, instead a wooden box for a dressing table, and a bowl of cool, clear water fresh from the velvet-rimmed pool, and a glass--the piece that fell from a wagon and was splintered up so no one would touch its "bad luck," so Pell rescued it and painted a four-leaf clover on its jagged edge! That was a Scout mirror. It was a revelation to the pampered child. And like so many others who are blamed for their circumstances, Nora was fascinated with the glimpse given of a real world. Here girls lived as human beings privileged to invent their own tools which would be used in modelling the skilled game of a happy life. "Of course," explained Pell, "we go through quite some formality before we really become Scouts, but necessity knows no law, and this is necessity." "It's just wonderful," admitted the stranger, all the while fighting down a sense of guilt that she should ever have disliked the Scouts and their standards. "Now we want you to meet Alma," announced Wyn. "She's one of our little Tenderfoots, and so romantic? She will be sure to want to adopt you, for just wait until you see if Betta doesn't say we found you in the lake!" she predicted. Alma came from the leader's tent. She had been studying--those tests were soon to be held. "Just see our little pond-lily," began Thistle, while Nora, now somewhat accustomed to the girls' jokes, managed not to blush too furiously. "Oh!" began Alma, then she stopped. Nora felt in that moment she was discovered and that the prince would soon cease to be a mystery. "Well, Alma, this is Nora--Nora----" "Blair," added Nora, realizing her full name had not been given the girls before. "Oh, how do you do?" faltered Alma. "I thought at first I had met you before." "No. Nora is the visitor at the Mantons," explained Wyn, "and we all had a ducking--we initiated Nora and had a lovely time. You missed it, Al." "Sorry," said Alma, still eyeing Nora. "But we spoiled our uniforms," rattled on Wyn. "That wretch, Jimmie Freckles, dumped us right out into the lake." "And I was brought back to your camp to be redressed," Nora managed to say. She felt if she did not say something the girl with the lovely, glossy, brown hair, who was staring at her, would penetrate her secret. "Alma has visions," went on Wyn. "She saw a real prince in your woods one day; didn't you, Alma?" "I saw a little boy in a velvet suit----" "And he had curls." "And he had dimples." "And he had lovely gold buckles on his slippers." "And he had----" But Alma turned on her heel and left the girls to finish their description without her aid. Nora was greatly relieved when she left. "Honestly," explained Thistle, "Alma insists she did see a little boy in your woods. Did you ever come across such a child?" "Never," replied Nora, then, "I really must hurry home, I am afraid I am late for lunch now." "Won't you stay? We are to have----" "Thank you, Pell, but Cousin Ted and Cousin Jerry will be so anxious to hear all the news----" "But you must keep secrets--make secrets if you haven't any to keep," advised Betta, who had taken a fancy to Nora. In fact all the girls showed unusual interest in the little visitor. "Oh, I know how to do that," Nora replied truthfully. Then, with many invitations and a number of suggestions as to spending some days and even a few evenings, Nora finally managed to race off toward the Nest, after Betta walked with her out of the camp grounds and watched while she hurried down the road. It was a very short distance to Wildwoods, and before Betta turned back to Camp Chickadee she had seen faithful Cap run out to meet Nora. "Now, are you satisfied, Alma?" asked Wyn. "You would insist the visitor was a boy." "It may be her brother," replied the brown-haired one, "but honestly, girls, and no joking, he had curls just like hers," said Alma. "But isn't she sweet?" asked Wyn. "Princes aside, I like her most as well as Alma's vision," declared Thistle. "And did you notice how matter-of-fact she donned Bluebird's outfit? What are we going to say to her if she happens back tonight?" "Gone to the tailor's to be pressed," suggested Pell, glibly. "There come the others. Now for a lecture." But instead, Miss Beckwith, the leader, came up smiling. "We heard all about it, girls," she began. "Met that precious James Jimmie Jimsby of yours, and he said it was in no way your fault." "Bless the boy!" murmured Pell. "We shall certainly have to adopt the list of Jays. First we capsize his boat and then he pleads for us. Now isn't that gallant?" "But Becky," began Thistle, sidling up to the popular leader, "we have had such a wonderful experience. We have converted a real rebel." "Rebel!" exclaimed Wyn. "How do you know Nora was anything like that?" "Well, Mrs. Ted Manton said as much, didn't she?" "She didn't," replied Pell crisply. "She merely said that Nora had very little experience in girls' sports." "I know," interrupted the leader. "Mrs. Manton has mentioned her to me, and I am very glad you have succeeded in interesting her. I fancy she is a very capable child, with too much time on her hands." "Oh," sighed Betta. "If we had only known it we could have borrowed some. What ever shall we do to get in a day's work now?" "Lunch first and then do double quick duty," suggested the young leader. "It has been rather a lost day, counting by the usual results, but then, we have to figure in the new friend." "You're a love, Becky," declared Treble. "I am sure you are going to help me with my basket. It has to be done tomorrow, if I am to get full credit for it." "Where's Alma?" asked Miss Beckwith, suddenly. "Pouting," replied Wyn. "You are not to know it, of course, but Alma's in love!" A shout corroborated the statement. "She may be hanging up wet clothes," suggested Pell. "When they're in love they do foolish things like that, I've heard tell." "Girls! Didn't you hang up your wet things yet?" Miss Beckwith asked in real surprise. A rush to the back of the tent, where the garments had been hastily heaped, gave response. Presently there was a contest being held to see who could hang up the most material in the smallest space and with the fewest clothes pins; at least that appeared to be the attempt the happy four were making; but when the lunch bell sounded, each and all were ready for the fresh corn, new potatoes, string beans and macaroni--a menu especially designed for culprits who fall in lakes and forget to hang up their uniforms to dry. Everyone talked of the little stranger, and also everyone praised her beauty. She was so cute, so sweet, so adorable, and Pell even went so far as to whisper to Thistle that she was "peachy," although all slang was taboo at the table. "And Alma," confided Wyn, "we were so sorry not to be able to locate your prince----" "Girls," Alma exclaimed. "If you say prince to me again I'll scream." "You did this time," said Betta, "and we don't mind it at all. You scream really prettily." "Hush," spoke Doro. She was down at the far end of the table and had not been with the girls on their eventful trip. "I think we have teased enough, really. Let the poor little prince rest." "Good idea," chimed another who also had missed the expedition. "We have a new plan to propose, and with all that prince stuff we can't get your attention. Becky is going to take us to the Glen tomorrow morning, and we want volunteers to make up the lunch baskets." "Call that a new plan?" mocked Wyn. "Why, that's as old as the Scouts. First thing I ever did was to volunteer to make up a basket for my big sister, and she picked it up and walked off with it." "Didn't even thank you?" asked Miss Beckwith, who always took part in the girls' fun. "Well, she may have," replied Wyn, "but that didn't impress me. It was those sandwiches and those cakes----" "You didn't make those, Wynnie?" demanded Treble. "If you did we won't ask for volunteers. We'll wish the job on you." Alma was quiet during all the merry chatting, but Thistle, who could not resist one more thrust, said next: "Thinking of him, dearie?" she asked. "And his little velvet coat----" But the joke had a most astonishing effect. Alma sniffed, breathed in quick little gasps, and the next moment asked to be excused from the table. "She's crying!" declared Betta. "Horrid girls!" murmured Doro. "I told you she had had enough of princes." "But to cry! Alma isn't like that," said Wyn in real surprise. Miss Beckwith, who had reached the end of her lunch and was waiting for the others to finish, slipped away after Alma. This left the girls to wonder, and they did that in all the ways known to girlhood. Then it was definitely decided the first girl who mentioned the word prince should be made to pay a heavy fine. All felt truly sorry for little Alma, but it was the wise and understanding Janet Beckwith who gathered the sobbing girl into her arms and soothed the sighs, tears, and protestations. "Just teasing, dear," she insisted. "You must not mind their nonsense. They, every one, love you dearly." "But I did see a real prince, Becky. And--and they won't believe me," sobbed out Alma. Miss Beckwith wondered. "A real prince?" she repeated. "Yes. I was near enough to see all his pretty--things," Alma paused in her sobbing to relate. "He had all velvet clothes, and such a pretty black cap. Oh Becky!" she sobbed afresh, "can you ever imagine what it is to have the--girls--all making fun of you?" "Now, Alma dear," again soothed the leader, "I am really surprised that you should take this so seriously. You know the girls are not making fun of you----" "They--said I had--a vision," she sobbed as heavily as ever. "And I am determined to find out who that was--and prove it to them." Miss Beckwith was sorely puzzled. Naturally she supposed the girl was romancing. But why should she take it so seriously? "Come, now, dear," she urged. "We have talked it all out and the only thing that worries you is that the girls do not believe you, isn't it? "Yes, that's the worst of it." "Then, let's sleep over it and see what the morrow will bring in the way--of light." Becky scarcely knew just what to propose so she threw the responsibility on the "morrow." Alma was over her "spell" presently. But the prince had, by no means, lost his real personal identity to the sensitive little Scout. CHAPTER XII A DIVERSION NOBLY EARNED Ted's pleasure, shown when Nora's transformation was revealed to her in a dripping little "pond lily" on the edge of Mirror Lake, was not to be compared with Jerry's joys when he first beheld his Bobbs in the Girl Scout uniform. They were waiting for Nora when she returned at lunch time. "Pretty kipper, nifty, all right and no kiddin'." These were some of the exclamations he gave vent to. "But I thought you didn't like little girls in anything but skirts," Ted reminded him. "I didn't but I do," he replied Jerry-like. "Now what do you say Bobbie, to a try at horse back ridin'?" He always dropped his g's when perfectly happy. "I'd like to try it," admitted Nora proudly. She might not have realized it but the trim little service costume had already emancipated her. She was no longer the creature of catalogued toilet accessories, "send no money" and "we guarantee money's worth or money back," etc. The new Nora was like a butterfly leaving its cocoon--although the drying process had been facilitated by the loan of a new blouse and bloomers from the Chickadees' wardrobe. Vita came out to announce lunch and she stood dumbfounded. Vita was not Americanized to the point of diplomacy. "You lose your good clothes? Those t'ings not yours?" she asked blandly. "I have one like this," replied Nora. She did know how to respond to interference, and had not yet quite forgiven Vita for the attic episode. "Don't you like it, Vita?" asked Jerry, his brown eyes twinkling. "We were thinking of getting you one like it--for your tramps through the woods, you know." The Italian woman scowled. She lacked a sense of humor as well as some other details of Americanization. "Don't tease her, Jerry," Ted ordered. "He is only fooling, Vita," she assured the perplexed maid, while visions of the fat woman in a jaunty little Scout uniform filtered through the brains of both Ted and Nora. During lunch time conversation ran to the important occurrence of the morning, but Ted did not know all about the ducking in the Lake, and since Betta had cautioned Nora to keep secrets and if necessary to make them, it seemed unwise to tell every single detail: thus Nora reasoned. So it happened neither Ted nor Jerry knew whether the first swim was intentional or accidental, and both respected the "secrets of the order," as Jerry put it. "The girls are coming over this afternoon with a manual," the candidate said as tea was finished, "and then I'll have to do some studying." "I see where Cap and I will have to paddle our own canoe hereafter," lamented Jerry. "That's just the way with you girls. I get you all broke in and you race off and join up with the Indians. Well," he sighed deeply, "I suppose Ted and I and Cap will have to go on our picnics alone, in spite of all our plans." "Oh, Cousin Jerry! Did you have a picnic planned!" eagerly asked Nora, leaving her place at the table to join Jerry on the big couch. "I did but I haven't," he replied, with pretended disappointment. "What good are picnics for Girl Scouts? They want big game with real guns and elephant meat for supper," he finished pompously. "Oh, Cousin Jerry!" pouted Nora. "If you really had a picnic planned couldn't we have it, and couldn't I invite my Scout friends?" "'Course you could, Kitten," Jerry gave in. "I'll fix up the finest little picnic those Scouts ever heard tell of. Just you wait and see." "But we are going to celebrate privately this evening, Nora," Ted added. "How would you like to go to a picture play?" "Oh, I'd love it, of course. I do so love motion pictures, and the Misses Baily are so fussy about letting any of us go." "I'll bet," agreed Jerry. "Want you to see Mother Goose and Little Jack Horner----" "Both of which are each," interrupted Ted. "Guess you had better read up your nursery rhymes, Jerry." "Well, I didn't take your college course, Theodora, but I went to Sunday School a lot--had to," he admitted, shamelessly. "Then, it's all settled for this evening," continued Ted, quite as if there had been no break in the conversation. "We will ride into Lenox and see the 'movies.' I know it's a good picture this week and it isn't Mother Goose either." "Glad of that. I hate the old lady myself," scoffed Jerry. "This afternoon I must go out to moorlands, Ted," he said next, seriously. "Suppose you and Nora take the day off and loaf? You did a lot of hard work this morning----" "But I want to finish pegging off the west end," Ted interrupted. "Oh, could I help you, Cousin Ted?" begged Nora. "I would just love to do some real surveying." "And I would love to have you, certainly. We will rest for one full hour, then I'll let you carry the chains and drops, and off we go to the West End. How's that?" "Lovely. Will Cap come?" "Sartin sure," declared Jerry. "I never let the youngsters go out on location without the big dog, do I Cap?" Cap brushed his plumy tail against Jerry's elbow and made eyes at his master, agreeing with everything he said, as usual. Later, when the hour's rest had been taken, Nora and Cousin Ted made their way to the grounds that were to be surveyed. Nora carried the "chain" which she wanted to call a tape line until Ted explained that carpenters had tape lines and surveyors used "chains," and the term really meant an exact land measurement. The heavy instruments were already in position, and when the work of measuring the land with her eye, as Nora declared the process to be, was actually begun, the apprentice was quite fascinated. "Now, show me the cobweb," she insisted as Ted adjusted the delicate eye piece. "There. Do you see that mark outside the little drop of alcohol?" asked Ted. "The very small line like that on Miss Baily's thermometer?" "Yes, the line that frames the drop," explained Ted, "that's the finest substance we can get, and it's cobweb." Nora peered through the telescope. She was seeing a drop of alcohol shift from level to level as Ted moved the transit, but she was thinking of the night she discovered the cobwebs in the attic. Somehow attic fancies clung to her, tenaciously, and had she been at all superstitious she surely would have called the attic unlucky. Just see the trouble that Fauntleroy acting got her into. "It wouldn't take many webs to make such tiny marks," she said finally, as Ted moved off to "spot a tree." "I guess I won't have to gather many for Cousin Jerry for that little marking." Ted had moved off and with her small hatchet was hacking a piece out of the bark of a tree--spotting it, as she termed it. Then she returned to the telescope and sought the level. "What's the little weight on the string?" Nora next asked. "Oh, that's our plumb-bob," replied the surveyor. "Bob shows us just when a line is straight. Now watch." Over a peg in the ground Ted swung the heavy little pendulum, first to right then to the left, and so on until it fell directly on the mark. "Now see, that is plumb," said Ted. Nora gazed intently at the drop. "Everything has to be just exactly, hasn't it?" she queried, wondering why. "First, you strain your alcohol with cobwebs, then you drop your bob on the little peg straight as the string----" "That is just where we get the expression from," her companion assured her. "Nothing can be straighter." "And how do you get the mark on the tree?" "Look through the glass again." So the first lesson in surveying went on. It was fascinating to Nora, and when Ted decided enough land had been "chained off" Nora wanted to mark a few trees for her own use. "Couldn't I chop a nick in this one? It is so beautiful, and when we come another day I can add another nick--just like a calendar." Mrs. Manton readily agreed, so long as Nora did not use a mark that might confuse the surveyors; and so interesting was the work, time flew and the afternoon was soon waning. While in the woods more than once Nora had reason to be thankful for her practical Scout uniform, for she climbed trees, sought wild grapes from high limbs, gathered wild columbine and enjoyed the wildwoods as only a novice can. Birds scarcely flew from the path, and she marvelled they were so tame, but Ted explained they had no cause for fear, as the woods were their own and danger would be a new experience to them. When finally Cap came back from his rambles and it was decided that no more surveying nor "play-veying" should be indulged in, instruments were gathered again, and reluctantly Nora followed Mrs. Manton out into the path, newly beaten down by those who had been following spots, bobs, cobwebs, chains, telescopes, compasses, transits and all the other skilled implements used. "Are you really a surveyor?" she asked Ted, just wondering what she would call herself in Barbara's letter. "Yes, that or a civil engineer," replied Ted. "That is really what I studied in the famous college course Jerry is always teasing about." "It is sort of artist work, isn't it?" "A wonderful sort. Just see what good times I have out among birds, flowers, wildwoods, and the whole clean, untamed world," said Theodora Manton. "Some women may like indoors, but give me the woods and the fields and all of this," she finished, sweeping her free brown hand before her with a gesture that encompassed glorious creation. Nora pondered. How many worlds were there after all? How different this was from that which she knew at school? Would she ever enjoy the other now, after all this? She glanced at her scratched hands and smiled. What manicuring would erase those, and yet how precious they would seem when Cousin Jerry would hear what she had done to help with his wonderful surveying? "And we must fix up and look pretty for tonight," said her companion, as if reading Nora's thoughts. "I so seldom want to go out evenings I really have to think what to wear." "Do we dress up?" queried Nora. "A little, that is we don't wear these," indicating the khaki. "But all the Lenox folks are professionals in one line or the other, and you know dear, they always claim a social code of their own." Nora was not positive she entirely understood, but she guessed that professionals, if they were anything like her Cousin Ted, would wear just such clothes as they liked best and felt most comfortable in, and she wondered how such would look in a theatre. "Another rest, then an early dinner and we'll be off," announced Mrs. Manton when they reached the Nest. "Nora darling, you have made me very happy today," the brown eyes embraced Nora while the hands were still burdened with instruments. "I will write at once to your mother and ask her----" But a shout of Jerry's interrupted the most interesting clause. CHAPTER XIII CRAWLING IN THE SHADOWS "You jump in the car and wait a few minutes," said Ted to Nora. It was almost dusk and the moving picture party was about to set out for Lenox in the trim little car which, Ted insisted, was tamed, educated and "fed from her hand" when it went out of gas. Nora willingly complied with the order to take her seat and wait. Dark shadows fell from the trees to the narrow roadway, and while alone there Nora was just wondering if everything was going to happen in one single day. Cousins Jerry and Ted had many things to look after before setting out, for while Vita was a capable houseworker, she knew nothing of home management. Some minutes passed and the others had not yet come to the car where Nora sat so quietly that the squirrels had no idea a single human being was in the black car. One gay little furred skipper had the audacity to hop on the running board, but Nora from the depths of her cushions, never stirred. A rustling of the leaves, much heavier than the tread of squirrels could possibly have been, gave her a start. She just peeked out in time to see something crawl across the road and continue on toward the path to the cottage. "Oh, what was that!" Nora barely whispered. Then she raised her head and gazed intently at the crawling thing, that now was not more than an outline in the coming darkness. For the moment she was too surprised to jump out and follow. Could it be a bear or some big animal? Certainly it was no small woodland creature, and as it passed the car she could hear queer, jerky breathing. Being so near the house there was no need for alarm as to her personal safety, so she did jump out now and ran to meet Ted and Jerry who were just turning in from the barn drive. "Oh," Nora exclaimed breathlessly. "Did you see--anything?" "Anything?" repeated Jerry. "I mean did you see--anything queer?" "Why no," replied Ted. "But Nora, you look as if you had." "I did, really. Something stole out of the bushes and crept across the path, toward the kitchen." Nora was still short of breath from her fright. "Now Bobbs! You don't mean to say that some wild, roaring lion----" But Nora interrupted Jerry. "Honestly Cousin Jerry," she declared, "I did see something, and we can't go out and leave Vita alone until we find out what it was." "Bravo! Spoken like a Scout!" sang out the irrepressible Jerry. "Now let's all have a look." "Over there," directed Nora, and while neither Mr. nor Mrs. Manton appeared to take the matter seriously, they did, never-the-less, follow Nora's directions and quietly prowl along the path. "There," exclaimed Nora. "I saw it again!" "I thought I saw something scamper off myself," admitted Ted. "What do you suppose it can be?" She stepped out squarely in the driveway and stood watching. "Give me a look and I'll announce," said Jerry, his cap in one hand and a great stick, more like a tree limb he had hastily snatched up, in the other. He was going to have some fun out of it, at any rate. He never could miss a chance like this. Thrashing down the bushes from the drive to the garden path took but a few moments, then they were within sight of the door. "What's the matter?" called out Vita. "You find big snake?" "No, we're looking for it," answered Jerry. "Did he come your way?" "I no see, not any," said Vita fully. She never depended upon the scant Englishothers were apt to employ. While speaking she kept moving from one spot on the path to another, and her actions seemed so absurd Ted questioned the maid again. "Now Vita, you know perfectly well you have seen something," she insisted. "And we are not going away until we find out what is around here. Just look at Cap sniffing! He knows," continued Mrs. Manton, moving up nearer to Vita and closer to the house. "Nothing a-tall. Everything all right--good," persisted Vita backing to the doorway. "Say Vi," called Jerry in his cheeriest voice, "who's your friend? Are you trying to hide him behind your skirts? I told you, Ted, she should wear a uniform." "Oh, Jerry, do stop your nonsense," begged Ted. "We shall be late for the pictures. Just run in and look around the house. Of course everything is all right, but we don't want Nora worrying while we're away and Vita's alone." Nora had been looking sharply from one dark spot to another but no further disturbance appeared. "Nothing could get into the house with Vita right at the door," she reasoned aloud. "I suppose it was just something from the woods. Maybe one of those 'possums you told me about, Cousin Jerry." "Maybe, and again maybe not," he answered. "But just wait until I shake this stick over the premises. Vita will feel a lot safer when I wave the wand of warning over the place," and he entered the house with Vita so close to his heels that both Nora and Mrs. Manton looked surprised. "Queer, how she acts," admitted Mrs. Manton. "I just wonder---- But of course she is only hurrying to get us off. She knows we will miss the first show if we do not get away at once." Jerry was soon out, stick in hand, and a broad grin on his handsome face. "Nary a thing," he announced. "Nora, I am afraid your scouting has gone to your head. That, or you are seeing things." Before Nora might have replied Ted insisted they hurry off or give up the trip to Lenox, entirely. "I'm ready," Nora said, instead of commenting on the moving shadow. "I shouldn't like to miss that picture." "All aboard!" sang out Jerry, and when the little car shot out of the woods into the splendid turnpike--the pride of all motorists for many miles around--Vita might have entertained her mysterious visitor (if she really had one) to her heart's content, for all of the party bound cityward. Since her arrival at Woodlands Nora had little chance for auto rides, there were so many more interesting things to do, so that the short trip to Lenox now seemed something of a luxury. But the evening's entertainment was even more delightful. The attractive little theatre was so prettily made up with colored paper flowers over the lights, with breezy electric fans and such simple contrivances as, in the larger city, Nora had not seen, it all appeared new, novel and attractive. It was quaint and cosy, and such an effect was ever delightful to the fanciful daughter of a woman who called herself Nannie instead of mother. All about them people greeted the Mantons, and it was plain they were held in high esteem by many, farmers as well as more cultured folks, plain or dressed up--all had a pleasant word or a cordial greeting for the government surveyor and his attractive wife. Nora wondered if the Girl Scouts ever came in to see the pictures, but Ted expressed the opinion that when they did come they came in a crowd and made a regular party of the occasion. "But they have so many pleasures of their own for evenings," she told Nora, "I shouldn't fancy they would want to come under an ordinary roof often during the summer months." After the big picture with all its wizard scenes had been enjoyed, they started back towards Wildwoods. It was then that the fear of that crawling thing again crowded down on Nora and caused her to shiver until she actually shook. "Too cool?" inquired Ted, unfolding a soft knitted scarf from her end of the seat. "No, just shivery," truthfully answered the imaginative Nora. It was very dark along the country road, and only the flashing lights of passing cars penetrated the dense blackness of the tree-tunnels through which the party rode. It may have been this or it may have been the accumulated fatigue of her big, full day, but at any rate, Nora felt very much inclined to huddle up to Cousin Ted and hide. The humming of the motor was like a lullaby, and the voices of Ted and Jerry mingled so evenly that presently Nora forgot, then she forgot to think, and then she stopped thinking. She was sound asleep in the cosy comfort of Theodora Manton's encircling arm. "I'll lift her," she heard a voice whisper. It had seemed only a minute since she entered the car and here she was home, at the very door, with Vita standing there, lantern in hand. "Oh, thank you, Cousin Jerry," spoke up Nora bravely. "I am wide awake now. How perfectly silly to fall asleep?" "How perfectly sensible," he contradicted. "I wish you had not awakened. I should have had a great joke to tell your Girl Scouts," he teased. Nora laughed lightly. She was on the ground and anxious to get into the cottage. Why she felt so timid was not clear even to herself, but somewhere within her dread lurked, and when Ted proposed lemonade and crackers Nora excused herself on the grounds of being deliciously sleepy. For once she accepted Vita's offer to light her lights and make the window right for the night. "You go quick asleep?" Vita remarked, turning down the soft summer covering from the little bed. "Oh, yes. I fell asleep in the car," returned Nora, yawning. "That's good. Then you hear no storm----" "But there is no sign of a storm, Vita." "Oh, but maybe. Or maybe, yes, some big birds fly and make screech----" "Vita!" exclaimed Nora sharply. "What ever are you talking about? Are you trying to--scare me?" "Oh, no. No get scared at--any t'ing." mumbled Vita while her own excited manner seemed real cause for alarm. "I just like to know when my little girl sleep very good, like baby." Truth to tell Nora was too sleepy to argue, otherwise she might have demanded an explanation. Vita was plainly excited, and this fact coupled with that of her strange actions earlier in the evening was unquestionably enough to cause suspicion; but rest to a girl afflicted with "nerves" is a precious thing, and when it came to Nora she had no idea of risking its loss by any sort of argument. But Vita seemed to want to linger longer. First she looked at one window, then at another. She even plumped a cushion--as if that were necessary to a night's comfort! "Where do you sleep, Vita?" asked Nora, drowsily. "Oh, in a good bed, in the little room by kitchen," replied the maid. Nora recalled the maid's room. It was on the first floor just off the kitchen. So it could not have been Vita who slept in the attic. "Would Vita get you a nice cold glass of water?" asked the solicitous one, still anxious to please. "Oh, Vita," a yawn interrupted, "I am so sleepy----" "Then I go----" "Yes, you go. Good night, Vita," said Nora sweetly, "and I hope I sleep as soundly as I threaten to and as well as you want me to," finished Nora. "Isn't that being a very good girl?" "Very, very good," said Vita happily. Then she went out quietly and left Nora to her coveted slumber. CHAPTER XIV CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE But being converted to scouting could not at once cure Nora of her dream habits. Being so long alone in school, and having a brain insatiable for creative material, she usually went to bed to think and she went to sleep to dream. "I never felt so deliciously tired," she murmured. "But I do wonder what ailed Vita." Presently blue eyes cuddled in their white satin blankets with brown fringe borders (a way Nora had of describing eye lids and lashes), and then the panorama began. First it was the Scout memory. She, as the bravest Scout that had ever joined a troup, dramatically saved someone from drowning. Next, Nora as the actress in the picture shown at Lenox, performed the daring feat of swinging from the great rock with strikingly better effect than had she whose name graced the program. The third dream installment had to do with something very indistinct but horribly terrifying. It revealed a crawling thing that first crossed the path, then climbed the morning glory vine right up to Nora's window, and now--yes now--it was choking her! Had she screamed? She found herself sitting up straight in bed and she felt as if her very curls had straightened out in fright. There--was a noise! She listened, put her hand out and switched on the light. It was nothing in her room, but seemed somewhere--Yes, there it was again and it surely was up in the attic! Was that someone moaning? Dream dizzy still, Nora could form no definite resolve, either to call or to remain quiet. She simply lay fascinated with fright. The noise ceased. Still she lay--listening. Then other sounds penetrated the night. That was feet--shuffling of feet and they seemed just above her head! Quickly Nora reached out again and touched the button that switched off the light. She would rather lay hidden deeply in the bed clothing than be exposed to whatever was prowling in the attic, should it come down the stairs. Then she thought she heard whispering, but that might have been her excited imagination. She drew the covers closer and with her head buried from sound she could no longer listen, and not possibly hear. But after, what seemed to the frightened girl, a very long time she ventured to poke her head out again, just as she heard a stealthful step on the stairs. "Oh!" she gasped aloud. Then "Vita!" she called faintly. "Yes, I come. Sh-s-!" Nora had not expected to hear that voice. She merely called Vita because she did not want to call Cousin Ted, and she felt the intruder was dangerously near. But there was Vita! "What is it? You have bad dream?" asked the maid in a whisper, standing now beside the bed. "No, it was no dream." Nora's voice was not very low, in fact she was angry. "I did hear things and there's no use telling me it was the wind. It wasn't," she snapped. "Sh-s-!" again Vita warned. "It is no good to wake cousins. I was up the stairs for that old window. It slam--you hear it?" "What could slam a window tonight?" "I do-no!" in the way foreigners have of not understanding when ignorance is more convenient. "I must go to bed now. You all right?" "Say Vita!" charged Nora. "If you don't tell me the truth I'll--I'll--just shout!" "No, not too much noise," coaxed the big woman, who in her night robe looked like a masquerade figure. "What do you want I should get you?" "Nothing. I don't want anything but for you to tell me who is up in that attic!" demanded Nora sharply. "Me--Vittoria, is up attic." "Who was with you?" "Cap." "Where is he now?" "He go down--back way." "Now Vita--" Nora stopped. She was baffled. This woman could confuse her so and then walk off demurely, just as she had done that other night. Finally Nora began again: "All right, Vita, but you just listen." She was shaking a small finger toward the face with the black flashing eyes. "If you don't tell me all about your secret I shall tell Uncle Jerry. Now do you understand?" "Secret? What is 'secret'?" "The thing up in the attic is a secret," persisted Nora, although she feared her voice might disturb the others now. "That thing big Cap. He always at night sniff so much," said Vita. "Now, I go to bed," she spoke this very emphatically. "I go to bed and you go to sleep." "All right, go," ordered Nora. "And don't you dare go up in that attic again tonight. I was just having the most----" But her audience had vanished and the house was empty, so to speak, so why orate or harangue? All sleep and its delightful attributes had flown. Nora was so wide awake she felt she would never sleep again, and worse still, she was angry. What did that old Vita mean by her attic tricks? If it were she who was up there why did she moan? And if it were something else why did the woman try to conceal it? "Now, I have a Scout duty," Nora promised herself. "I must fathom that mystery and protect Cousin Theodora and Cousin Gerald from that unscrupulous woman." Visions of crimes hidden in the attic, memory of her own incarceration there when the trap door, as she now regarded the door with the spring lock snapped shut, filtered through her excited brain, and when she remembered how she had almost died up there, and how it might have been years before her skeleton would have been discovered, just as so many others had fared on secret attic trips, it did seem to Nora that she should arise at once and immediately start her investigations. Humor and tragedy hopelessly mixed. "But it's so late," she figured out, "and would it be fair to wake Cousin Ted when she is so tired and after her taking me to that beautiful picture?" Convincing herself that this was why she did not immediately begin her brave Scout work, she once more attempted to quiet her nerves by thinking of all the sheep Miss Baily had recommended to skip over fences and lull one to sleep. But sleep was far out of the reach of frisky sheep, and Nora lay there thinking of so many things, her head threatened to ache and a miserable day promised to dawn upon her if she did not soon succumb. "Perhaps I wronged poor Vita. There may not have been anything wicked in the attic after all," she soothed herself. "Why couldn't she go up there if she wanted to? And maybe she stubbed her toe." It was not very consoling but the best Nora could work up in the way of consolation. One thing certain, Vita was honorable. She was a trusted servant, and in the short time Nora had been at the Nest, many small favors, peculiar to good cooks, had come Nora's way through Vita's intervention. Such happy thoughts finally dispelled the other unfriendly mental visitors, and when Vita stole past the door again and looked in through the darkness, all she heard was the even breathing of little Nora Blair, who might or might not have been dreaming of horrible attic noises. The day brings wisdom, and when Nora again dressed in the borrowed khaki suit (she had suddenly taken a dislike to her own fancy dresses), the glorious sunshine of the bright summer morning mocked the terrors of the night. A step in the hall. "I bring your fruit," said Vita kindly through the open door; and there she stood with a small dish of such delicious berries to be eaten off stems by hand--surely Nora had wronged this kind, tender-hearted foreigner. Nora was somewhat conscience stricken as she accepted the peace offering. "Oh, thank you, Vita," she exclaimed. "I was just coming down." "But the Jerries are out early and you no need hurry," explained Vita. "I make nice breakfast when you come." "Cousin Ted gone out?" asked Nora. "Yes, she say you stay home, not go after them, they must 'bob swamp.'" "Bob swamp? Oh, you mean use the plumb-bob in the swamp. I understand, Vita." It was really remarkable how well both understood today and how dense both had been last night. "Very well, I'll eat my fruit here by the window, and later try your lovely biscuits," said Nora, with a smile rarely used outside the family. The housemaid shuffled off. Looking after her, Nora wondered. "I do believe she is trying to keep on good terms with me for something--something queer," she decided. "Certainly she is afraid I will tell Cousin Ted about the attic business." She paused with a big red strawberry half way to her lips. "Well, I have a secret, anyhow," she decided, "and I like Alma, she makes me think of myself--she is sort of shy and sensitive. Perhaps I shall make her my confidante." Of all the Scouts Alma seemed most congenial, and having a real secret was the first definite step in Nora's summer career. But are secrets wise and are they safe to carry around in so big and open a place as Rocky Ledge? CHAPTER XV WAIF OF THE WILDWOODS It was so much better than dreams. Not only did Nora feel the importance of having a real secret, but she also realized that the same circumstance had actually made Vita her abject slave. Not a wish was expressed by the visitor in Vita's presence but the maid would, if it were possible at all, see to its fulfillment. "I believe I'll tell Alma," Nora decided one morning after a visit and return to and from Camp Chickadee. Almost daily she made those trips and the Scouts had become such friends with her she was now regarded quite as one of their number. Expecting to join formally as soon as the other candidates of Rocky Ledge were ready and the Counsellor should come down from the city, Nora studied her manual and prepared for the honor. In the meantime she was privileged to enjoy many of the Scout activities. But "the secret" was really more engrossing just now. It provided her with a personal importance--what girl does not enjoy the possession of a knowledge others have not and everyone would love to have? It was thrilling. Alma, the Tenderfoot Scout, who from the first had espoused Nora's cause and even confided in her the real story of the woodland prince, met her daily at a wonderful rendezvous, and there the two girls, away from teasing companions, enjoyed confidences and built air castles. "I'll tell her today," the resolve was repeated as Nora started out. She arrived first, and while waiting had a race with Cap all the way to the Three Oaks and back again. "Dogs have to run faster," explained Nora breathlessly, when Cap won by more than he needed to establish his claim. "If you could not run faster than human beings, Cap, you could never have been made a Red Cross messenger, as you were in the awful war." The arrival of Alma cut short the encomium. Salutations were brief for both were eager to "tell each other a lot of things." "Alma, do you think you could keep a secret?" The question was so trite and time worn Alma smiled before answering in the affirmative. "Because," continued Nora, "this is the biggest secret I have ever had, and Barbara and I have had a great many." "I have to have secrets," returned Alma, "because none of the girls seem to understand me. They tease, you know, they almost made me homesick one night; they kept teasing and teasing about the prince; and Miss Beckwith had a hard time to make me stop crying." Nora winced. "Well, this isn't that sort of a secret," she said presently. "It's about our attic." "What about it?" "Oh, it's a lot to tell. We had better sit on the big log under the chestnut tree and be comfortable before I start." Then began the story of the first night at Wildwoods when Nora was determined to sleep in the attic. Many an exclamation of surprise was thrown in by the more practical Alma, but this in no way turned the narrator from her course. She sent thrill after thrill up and down Alma's spine, and she even voiced a suspicion that Vita might have a member of "some den of thieves hidden in the attic, although she is the soul of honesty," Nora was particular to state. But it was the incident that occurred the night they went to Lenox that really caused Alma to exclaim tragically: "Nora, you should tell Mrs. Manton! It is not safe to hide anything so serious as that. Suppose the Thing comes crawling down some night and Vita is not there to drive it back?" "Oh, she doesn't drive it back," Nora had not actually visualized the terror in that way. "She just kept me from finding out----" "What?" interrupted Alma when Nora paused from sheer excitement. "I don't know what!" "What do you think?" "Well, maybe it's a--really Alma, I don't dare think. I did not know how frightened I was till I started talking about it. Why, I am just all creeps," admitted Nora. "Here Cap," she shouted, as the dog attempted to wander off, "don't go away. Come on, Alma. I guess we had better go out by the road. Why, I am just as frightened as if the--Thing were around here!" she gasped. "Maybe it is," said Alma cruelly, picking up her knitting upon which she had not taken a stitch, and following Nora out of the little woodland into the more open field that flanked the narrow roadway. They hurried. Alma tripped and Nora almost screamed. "Why, what is the matter?" asked the Scout. "You haven't seen anything?" "No, but I feel so queer. You know, Alma" (she loved an audience), "I am queer and I do believe I sometimes feel things in advance. Miss Baily always said I did." "She must have been queer herself," retorted Alma. "I had those wild ideas, too, until I joined the Scouts. That's the reason Mother had me join. She said I was too much alone----" It was difficult to talk while hurrying over newly-cut stumps with which the field was so thickly strewn. The surveyor's men had hewn many a fine young birch and numbers of ambitious young maples there, for this was one of the forests lately cleared. "Here come the girls," exclaimed Nora, as they looked down the road. "Alma, promise not to say a single word----" "Why, Nora Blair! As if I would divulge a secret----" "Excuse me, Alma. I did not mean just that. But when one does not realize the importance----" "I do realize it. But it's all right, Nora. I know just how you feel," conceded Alma, amiably. "There. I have to go with Pell to get some grasses from the Ledge. I'm sorry I can't walk home with you. You don't mind----" "Not in the least, Alma. I was just jumpy while we talked--that way. Besides, I always have Cap. Good bye. I'll see you tomorrow morning." "Won't you wait for the girls?" "I'm afraid if I do I'll stay talking. Hello," she called out as Pell and Thistle came up. "Alma and I have had such a lovely time out in the oak woods I am late for my--chores," she finished, laughing. "What do you chore, Nora?" asked Pell. Her face was beaming with the health of camp life and her voice vibrated youth and happiness. "She chores chores of course," Thistle assisted. "I am sure the Nest is a lot nicer place to live and work in than Camp Chickadee--when Pell Mell is our inspector," she finished, with a pout. "Nora, would you believe it that wretched girl left her shoes outside of camp last night and this morning they were gone--to a goat preserve somewhere," explained Pell. "She has my second best 'sneaks' on now, yet she will malign me----" "Why and whither away?" interrupted Thistle, seeing Nora about to escape. "Oh, I really must. I'll see you later," promised the blonde girl, whose hair, always so fair, seemed to have taken on a shade of pure gold since exposed to the open sunshine of Rocky Ledge. So with paths divided they separated, and that was how it came to pass that Nora was alone when she encountered the wonderful adventure. Taking to the lane path, a walk she seldom thought of following, Nora, keyed up with her excitement following the telling of her story to Alma, felt she must get off somewhere and "collect herself" before going back to the house. Perhaps her head was down, and she may have ventured along as do much older and more serious folk when engaged in some perplexing problem, at any rate Nora was down the lane and into a strange grove before she realized it. She looked up with a start. "Where ever am I?" she said, if not aloud, certainly loud enough for her own hearing. The place was a veritable camp of low pines, and so dark it was beneath the thickly woven boughs, Nora felt as if she had stepped from day to night. "But so pretty," she commented. Then she looked about for Cap. It would not be wise to stray into such a lonely place without his reliable protection. He marched up with a very military air as she called his name. Evidently the place, strange to Nora, was familiar to him, for he did not so much as raise his shaggy head to glance around him. "Stay here," she whispered. Then, turning to survey the place, she almost froze with fright. Over in under a very low tree she saw something move--it was like a bundle of rags and it--yes, it had a head! "Oh, mercy!" she gasped. "What's that?" The black bundle rolled over and sat up. Two big, brown eyes glared at her! The head was covered with a shawl. Was it a woman? Frozen now with genuine fright Nora tried to move, but felt more like sinking down. "Oh!" she breathed. Then she saw how small it was. There! It was humping up. Like a queer sort of animal the bundle took shape on huddled shoulders, and from the outline eyes glared. It was not more than twenty feet from where Nora stood, but the almost night darkness of the grove helped make illusions terrifying. Now it was on knees and now it stood up! "Oh," cried Nora. "Who are you?" A little girl--a poor little ragged girl, evidently more frightened than Nora herself. "Oh, do come here," cried Nora, as soon as she saw how she had been deceived. "I won't hurt you." The child was now standing. What a sorry little figure! The part that was not eyes seemed just rags, and two bare feet pressed upon the brown pine needles like chunks of withered wood. Her head was covered with an ugly gray scarf and yet the day was warm enough to feel the sun's rays even through the dense trees. "What's your name, little girl?" asked Nora, venturing a step nearer. The eyes rolled and then a smile broke over that frightened face. "I'm Lucia," replied the child, and her voice was as pretty as her name. CHAPTER XVI LADY BOUNTIFUL JUNIOR Hearing that small, fluty voice Nora sighed with relief. "Come here, little girl," she said gently. "I won't hurt you." "Please, I can't. I must run----" "Oh, no; don't run," begged Nora, as the child showed every sign of escaping. "I am all alone. I just want to talk to you." "But I must not. I have to run," insisted the other. "Why?" "Because----" the voice had dropped many tones. "Will any one hurt you if you don't?" This was merely a chance question of Nora's. She could not think quickly of just the right thing to say and was anxious to detain the child. "Yes, no, maybe," a shrug of the small shoulders proclaimed foreign mannerisms. Her dark eyes also bespoke the alien. "Well, I won't let anyone hurt you," declared Nora bravely. "I'm a Girl Scout, do you know what that means?" "Yes, I know. It means crazy," promptly replied Lucia. "Crazy?" Nora was somewhat taken back. Then it dawned upon her that foreigners had a way of saying things--perhaps--"crazy" meant something else to the child. "Why do you say 'crazy'?" Nora asked next. "Oh, they dress funny, and they run all over and they climb trees like--crazy," said Lucia. Nora saw she was correct in her free translation. Crazy was a comprehensive term to Lucia. "Don't you like them, the Scouts?" pressed Nora. "The little one--I like. The big ones chase me one day," came the indifferent answer. "I have to go, I must run sure now," declared Lucia, putting out her small hands to make a hole in the bushes through which to escape. "Oh, please don't go yet," begged Nora. "I have just found you and I want to--know you." "I don't dast," replied Lucia. "I have to hide now," she was getting through the break when Nora took hold of the long skirt. At this Lucia looked around sharply, and her dark eyes flashed dangerously. "Are you hungry?" Nora asked. This was a tactful thing to ask and offered immediate postponement of flight for Lucia. "Sure," she replied, beaming. "What you got?" "Nothing--just now," faltered Nora. "But I can bring you lots of good things. You wait here----" "Oh, no, I get caught," interrupted the woods wraith. "Then I ketch--it." Nora was sorely puzzled, but being Nora she had no idea of allowing such an interest to escape. She said next: "If you tell me where to leave things for you, I'll bring them and you can get them when no one is around. Would that be all right?" "Maybe," replied the exasperating Lucia. "But when you get it?" "Oh, any time, I live near here and I can just run over and be back before you have to go. Where do you go to?" "I can't tell," answered Lucia with more foreign tone than she had yet assumed. "You mean you do not dare tell me where you live?" "Yes, that's what I mean." "Why?" "I don't dast," again came that quaint, childish negative. "Who would do anything to you?" "Nick." If Nora was eager to talk, surely Lucia was determined to be very brief. What could she mean by "Nick." Again Lucia held the bush back into an open gate. And again Nora tugged at the skirt. "If I bring you a lovely sweet pie will you come back and talk to me here?" begged Nora. "Where will you put the pie?" "Can't you come and get it?" "I don't know." It was aggravating. The child seemed purposely obtuse. Nora had an instinctive feeling that somehow she was the object of abuse. Her cringing manner indicated oppression. "Now, Lucia," she began again, "if you come here every day I'll come all alone, except for Cap, and I'll bring you lovely things to eat. Wouldn't you like that?" "Sure." "Then you will come?" "What time?" "In the morning--about this time. Would that be all right for you?" "If Nick is gone." "Who is Nick?" "Very bad man. I hate Nick." This last sentence was so purely American, that even Nora guessed the child had come from mixed surroundings. Holding to her shawl Nora could feel, she imagined, a shudder pass through the slim frame at the very mention of the name Nick. Lucia dragged her scarf off a bush. "I go now," she said with just a tinge of politeness. "You bring pie?" "Yes, a big pie. Don't forget to come." "I come--sure." The queer figure stood for a moment out in the clear sunlight, and Nora had a chance to see her features. She was pretty, strikingly so, in spite of her pinched cheeks and her too lustrous eyes. "Please--you don't tell anybody?" came the appeal. "I work all day and pull weeds, but like to sleep little bit by the big trees, sometimes." Then Nora guessed. "You mean you are sick and come here to rest?" "Please." "Well, you just come here whenever you want to, Lucia," said Nora with feeling. "The idea of a tiny tot like you working at pulling weeds! And with all those heavy rags on you! It's a shame!" she declared indignantly. "You don't tell?" the child persisted anxiously. "No, Lucia. I'll never tell. I have a lot of secrets, and this one I won't even tell Alma." "Good bye." Like a frightened animal the waif sped across the field and dodged into the next clump of shrubbery. "She is afraid of being seen," reasoned Nora. "Who ever saw such a pitiful little thing?" Then it dawned upon her that Cap had not even sniffed suspiciously. "Did you like her, Cap?" she asked, patting the patient animal, that all during the broken conversation had lain at Nora's feet without so much as a single growl. "Did you feel sorry for her, too, Cap?" He may have or there may have been some other reason for his indifference, but now he was willing and anxious to go home. It was lunch time and Cap never needed an announcement. Nora followed him. She was too astonished to know even what to think. That a little beggar girl should hide in the bushes to rest from hard work! "I'll bring her the nicest things Vita can bake," she concluded. Then came the thought: How would she get Vita to give her the supplies without making known the use she was to put them to? Picnics were common. These would surely supply an excuse for carrying out food, and, after all, wouldn't it be a picnic for Lucia? Nora's heart was fluttering. "I never knew what a vacation was before," she told Cap. "Here I am having a love of a time and doing things worth remembering." How different from the fashionable summers she had been accustomed to! Nowadays she hardly had time to look in a glass, and yet she was enjoying every hour. It was like discovering something new continually, and did Nora but know the secret of the adventure it was simply that she was discovering her own resources--she was getting acquainted with Nora Blair. But miracles are not common, and Nora was not yet completely transformed from a sensitive, secretive girl, to an honest, frank, fearless Girl Scout. Even the new discovery of Lucia and her sad plight was now locked up in her breast. But should it have been? CHAPTER XVII A PICNIC AND OTHERWISE A rush of events followed. Chief among them was that of a Girl Scout picnic, inaugurated by Ted and Jerry, carried out by Nora and enjoyed by all. It was a delightful hike out to the Ledge, that big, rugged rock that leaned over a pretty, disjoined lake, made up of tributaries from springs and rain flows. Rocky Ledge was exactly that--narrow, rocky; a table or shelf that leaned out just far enough to form a little portico over the frivolous waters beneath. It was a charmed spot, with many thrilling legends to its credit, and being different from the entire scenery surrounding, it gave the place its name--just like one girl different from her companions will stand out as an example, if she happens to be that kind of different that is interesting. Not that other parts of this territory were commonplace. No, indeed. There was a fertile farm country, Jerry's precious forests, Ted's wonderful butterfly haunts and even Nora's cedar groves; but these did not touch the high spot enjoyed by that novel little ledge; hence the whole territory was known as Rocky Ledge. The picnic marked midsummer's festivity. Chickadee Patrol invited members from other camps out to the Ledge, and when Pell insisted that Thistle and her aids "do up enough grub" for those invited, a strike was narrowly averted. "You know, Pell Mell, the Mantons will bring barrels of things to eat, so why should we make samples of our miserable home-cooking failures?" demanded Thistle. Betta was standing hard by egging her on. "They will bring the lunch, that is, The Lunch, but what about a little four o'clock snack? There are silver springs out there with water cress on the cob, and I know our girls are never loath to nibble a bite or two when out on location," Pell reminded her mutinous crew. That was Pell. She had a way of getting things done and at the same time making a joke of it. "Is Nora going to be inducted?" asked Betta. Next to Alma, Betta was the most avowed champion of the girl from the Nest. "Yes, we had a letter today and Becky told us we would have a business meeting Wednesday, when your precious Babe Nora will be led to the stake. She will accept the halter of allegiance to Pell, Betta and the rest of the mob----" "If you feel so frisky, Pell, I wish you would work off some of the extra on this tin can. I am supposed to open it with a souvenir trick can opener. I am sure Betta brought it from the state fair, B. C. 150. It has all the ear marks of antiquity without any of the teeth," declared Wyn, who was struggling with an implement, curious and wonderful. "That's a perfectly good can opener," defended Betta. "Jimbsy purloined it from his own mother's table----" "Which supports my theory," interrupted Wyn. "His mother's table is none other than antique. But there! It did cut--my hand into the bargain," and she defied all her first-aid rules by sticking a finger in her mouth. "Glad it cut something." "Where's Alma?" asked Laddie. "She always gets out of the drudgery." "Alma was tagged along to town to buy things," explained Thistle. "Becky is hearing her lessons on the way. Alma is our little freshman, you know, girls, and while she doesn't wear mourning, she is often in sorrow." "She has a great time with Nora, I notice," remarked Doro. "I fancy between the two of them they have fixed it up about the prince. Shouldn't be a bit surprised if they invited him to the picnic." "Now, remember," ordered Wyn, "don't dare say prince. Say duke if you must, but spare Alma's feelings on the princeling. But honestly, girls, wasn't it a joke?" "Not to Alma," answered Treble. "She certainly had a vision if she did not see a prince. Here she comes. Look at the bundles! Land sakes alive! If it's more grub I'm going to duck. My fingers are mooing now from spreading butter," and Treble plastered a slab of the yellow paste on a square of bread, quite as if it were intended as mortar for a sky-scraper. An hour later they were on their way. Nora might have ridden out to the Ledge in the little runabout, but she preferred to walk with the girls. "I'm so excited about joining," she confided to Betta and Alma, her hike partners. "I feel as if I were going to have my final exams." "You don't want to," advised Betta. "You know your manual perfectly, and have nothing to worry about. But we shall all be so glad, Nora, when you are really a Scout. It is all well enough to be a lone Scout out in the wilderness, but while we're around there is no sense in such isolation." "The Lone Scout! Oh, I was fascinated reading about the provisions for such an individual arrangement. Just imagine being a troop of one," said Nora. "About as interesting as Laddie's collection of one piece of genuine mica," replied Betta. "As much as I detest the girls" (she gave Alma's arms an affectionate squeeze in explanation), "still, I would rather be pestered with them than to be a Lone Scout on the Big Mountain. There, Nora! That would make a stunning title for your coming book." "What book?" demanded the unsuspecting Nora. "The one that is coming next," serenely replied Betta. "But let us hasten! See yon girls are turning into the other yon road," she went on. "We betta----" A warning chuckle from Alma, cut short her "Betta." Until this attractive girl learned to respect the all-American R she would never know peace with her companions. Joining the others the merry party hiked along; singing, whistling, calling, laughing and making noises peculiar to girls out on picnics bent. Mr. and Mrs. Manton rode to the Ledge, deposited their treat and were ready to be on their way and leave the girls to their own good time, almost as soon as the party arrived. "Oh, stay," besought Pell. "We are counting on having you in for our games----" "I wish I could," replied the big brown Jerry. "But the fact is this wife of mine has planned a little picnic all of her own. You see, when she got me in on this she knew I could not back out on hers. Yes," he sighed affectedly, "she has made me promise to take her out canoeing, and I am not sure what terror she has set for me at the end of the stream." "Oh, are you really going down the stream?" cried Treble. "I have just longed for a ride down through the rapids----" "Well, you best not take it," spoke up Mrs. Ted. "I am going down the stream only to explore. And I would not go without the strong arm of a man at the keel." "Oh, Jimbsy, where art thou?" wailed Thistle. "Why didn't we treat you right! Your gallant craft----" "Get the water there, Cicero," shouted Doro. "This lunch is to have lemonade a la carte, and there isn't a drop of water in the house. Sorry to disturb the oration----" "Gimme the pail," snapped the interrupted Thistle. "I never yet started anything that Doro didn't finish." But even the delightful lunch, served on a grassy table with every girl holding down her own table cloth, for a light little breeze flirted outrageously with the service--even all this did not tempt the Scouts to tarry long from the delights of the great, wild open; and before the normal eating hour had passed the girls were formed in groups and circles, to suit their individual and collective tastes, and through field and glen their laughter supplied the marching tune. Nora was clinging to Alma, with a motive. She had seen the great field of corn just behind the Ledge, where fertility could be depended upon, and she was wondering, secretly, if little Lucia might pick weeds out there? "Could we go over to those gardens?" she asked the leaders, when the other girls had all chosen their points for exploration. "Why, certainly. I am glad to see that you are interested in real gardens," replied Miss Beckwith. "Those are called the Italian gardens because Italians work there, not because they bear any resemblance to the wonderful gardens of Italy." The temptation was strong within Nora to tell Alma just why she wanted to go up close to the big women with hoes and rakes; but the memory of Lucia's dark eyes, that looked so like dewy pansies when the child begged: "You will never tell," that memory sealed Nora's lips, while she eagerly sought out any small figure that might be that of the little slave of labor. "I don't like those horrid women," said Alma. "Why don't you want to go over the other way, out into the pretty woodlands, Nora? Come on and let's run back. I am almost afraid of that ugly creature coming over that dug-up place," Alma declared. "I don't like her, either," admitted Nora. "I only wanted to see--them work--close by." "Going in for scientific gardening when we make you a real Scout?" Alma continued, as they both hurried back to the uncultivated territory. "Lots of girls are trying it, but it's wickedly hard on the hands." "Oh, I hadn't thought of that, Alma. But I just----" She stopped and looked frankly into Alma's gray eyes. "Alma," she began again with an unexpected sigh, "would you think me mean if I asked you to do something to help me without, well, without explaining fully?" she floundered. "Why, no, certainly not, Nora. You must have good reason for not wanting to confide----" "I do want to confide," Nora quickly took up the charge. "But this is not my own affair. I have promised not to tell." "Then don't bother to explain," said Alma, generously. "I'll do all I can to help you. I am sure it's for a good cause." "The noblest charity----" Nora checked herself. "I'll tell you. I want to take my picnic lunch to--some place----" It was next to impossible to go on without going all the way. "Nora, darling! You are truly a brave Scout!" declared the admiring Alma. "There you haven't touched your lovely lunch. Saved it for a secret charity. Just you wait until you are received into the band of Chickadees! I'll be your sponsor if I am allowed it, and I'll find a way----" "Alma! Alma!" gasped Nora, tragically. "You really must do nothing of the kind. As happy as I am now at the idea of being a Scout, I shouldn't even join if I thought that in any way this secret would become known." She was breathless at the very thought, and had jerked Alma to a standstill right in the middle of a mud patch, in her excitement. "Oh, don't worry," soothed Alma. "I had no idea of telling any part of the secret, that, of course, I really don't know anything about. I was just planning what I might say to your especial credit if the promoter should call upon me," she finished with a tinge of disappointment. "Then help me carry my lunch back to--the woods near our house," said Nora while the glance she exchanged was a unspoken volume. "I hope you are not going to give it away to some wild animal," Alma could not refrain from remarking. "Oh, no indeed," Nora assured her companion. "Then why do you not eat it?" "I have promised----" "Maybe it's Jimmie," said Alma, with a sly little chuckle. "Jimmie! Why I have never spoken to him!" "Oh, you should," the Scout assured her. "He is such a nice, useful boy." "Does he work on the farms?" asked Nora seriously. "I guess he doesn't really work any place in particular, but almost every place in general," replied Alma. "But let's hurry. The others will think we got hoed in with the corn." So they did hurry back to the picnic and back to their strategy. CHAPTER XVIII THE LITTLE LORD'S CONFESSION It was all over. Nora had been made a Girl Scout. To celebrate the enrollment Jerry and Ted gave a "large party" at the Nest, and of all her memorable social functions, this to Nora seemed most delightful. Every one came, even Becky the patrol leader, and in their uniforms all freshly pressed out, the white summer blouse being allowed for the festive occasion, the party looked quite novel, and the girls had a wonderful time, dancing, playing games and inventing new fun provokers at every turn. Nora as the guest of honor was honored indeed, and accepted her compliments most gracefully. "It was all a matter of opportunity," said Ted aside to Jerry, referring to Nora's change of heart. "She is just as good a Scout as any of them." This was a proud boast. "The woods are full of them," said Jerry the champion of all girls, Scouts and near Scouts. "Just give them the chance." But up in her own room Nora was pondering. "It's just like getting married," she reflected. "That is, I guess it is," she amended wisely. "One must clear up every secret and fix all the old troubles when one gets married, and one must clear up all the old worries and secrets when she joins the Scouts," concluded the systematic, little self-appointed conscience cleaner. There was that matter of the prince. Never did Alma mention it nor never did Nora hear any of the other Scouts refer to it without feeling guilty. "I just ought to tell Alma the whole truth," she was now deciding. It was the day after the great event. But came the thought of Alma's certain surprise that she, Nora, her true friend and confidante, should have deceived her so long. Pride did not melt into humility with the bestowing of the pretty Scout emblem, so Nora did not see her way clear to tell that silly story of her Lord Fauntleroy escapade. She was repeating her Scout promise "To do my duty to God and Country and to help others at all times," and she mentally made the promise again. "To help others." That clause charged her. Was she helping Alma? Did she not know, really, that the one glimpse of the person in velvets had left kind and considerate little Alma guessing ever since, and also that it had put her in a ridiculous position with her companions? "I know, I'll write her a letter." The inspiration satisfied, and thus started the most remarkable correspondence--but let others tell it. "She got a letter!" exclaimed Wyn. "What's wonderful about that?" asked Betta. "It's from the prince, that's what," declared the first speaker. "Prince!" "The very same," chimed in Treble, stretching her long self from the bench to the boat swing. "What nonsense!" scoffed Betta. "Alma may be romantic, but she is not crazy." (Lucia to the contrary.) "Just ask her," suggested Wyn. "She's hugging that letter as tight as tu' pence. I always told you Alma was madly in love----" "Hush!" Doro's warning suspended operations along that line. Alma was upon them. "Letter?" asked Wyn, innocently. "Yes, and if you like you may read it. It's from----" "The prince?" blurted Treble, shooting her hand out. "I'm corporal," said Thistle, pompously. "Let me have it, dear." "Perhaps I should read it myself," said Alma, pettishly, thus prolonging the agony. "It is so--personal." "Yes, do," begged Wyn, coiling and uncoiling in sheer expectancy. "Here's a seat," offered Betta. "The sun's there," warned Thistle amiably. "Take this seat, Alma," and she moved over so generously, the bench all but tipped end on end. Every one waited. Alma took out her letter--it was in her crocheted bag and one could see how she treasured it. What a thrill! But Treble pinched Betta and almost spoiled the start. "I received it this morning," said Alma, "and, of course, it didn't come through the mail." "How?" asked Wyn. "Jimmie!" replied Alma. "Oh-o-o-o-oh!" The shout was mortifying, Betta came to the rescue. "Jimmie isn't your prince--Alma?" she asked sweetly. "Jimmie!" Alma's tone was caustic. "As if that freckled face----" "Here! Easy on the Jimbsy!" warned Treble. "He's a perfectly fine little Scout, and if ever this patrol extends to co-ed----!" "Let Alma read her letter," ordered Thistle, the corporal. "How'd you say you got it?" persisted Wyn. "Jimmie brought it." "Where did he get it?" again asked the irrepressible Wyn. "He was pledged not to tell, but just see the stationery." The envelope was passed around; all commented favorably. "You see," began Alma, "this was written as a confession." The older girl shouted again. Treble nudged Wyn almost off the bench. "Don't mind them, Alma, I'm listening," said Betta sharply. "Oh, we all are," chimed in Doro. Alma folded her letter. "If you are--going to--tease----" she faltered. "Here!" yelled Thistle, quite uncorporal like, "The very first one that speaks will be dumped into the lake. Proceed Alma." From that point things went along better. Again Alma looked promising. "As I said, the letter is a confession." Then ignoring a number of subdued interruptions, she went on. "It is signed 'Your loving prince.'" Could you blame them for howling? "Your loving--prince!!!!" repeated Wynnie. "And is there a Jimbsy to that?" "I told you," said the offended Alma, "the only thing Jimmie had to do with it was to deliver it." "So far as you know," interjected Doro, "But Jimmie is a far-sighted lad." "Let me read it, Alma," said Thistle in desperation. "I can't see why some girls can't have more manners." "And why some can't have some?" retaliated Treble. "Once more, shall I read it?" asked Alma, sighing. "You shall," declared Betta. "The first one that interrupts---- Oh, I say girls, it is almost time for drill. Have some sense and let's hear it." Murmurs approved. "'I feel constrained to write this, dear,'" Alma actually read, "'because I feel I have done you a great injustice.'" (Moans.) "'After you saw me and I fleed----'" Alma paused. "He means flew, of course." This started another outburst, and what he didn't mean by "fleed" simply wasn't worth meaning. "Go ahead, Alma, we know he--fleed," prompted Betta. "'After I ran'" (prudent Alma), "'I never had the courage to make myself known to you,'" she perused. "'But when I heard your companions taunt you----'" "There! Taunting her! I told you to be good----" Wyn's interruption was inevitable. "It is no use in my trying to be sociable," said the sensitive Alma. "But I thought you would all be interested." "There is not much more to read," announced the popular member. "He just says that soon--soon he will come." "Oh, joy!" shouted Doro, rolling over in the grass. "Let me know in time!" "They're just idiots, Alma. Come on with me and leave them to guess the rest," proposed the astute Betta, the confidante of girls. "_I_ want to hear it if nobody else does." Without even a giggle they jumped up and seized Alma. One could not be sure whose arm was most restraining, but she changed her mind about going with Betta. Instead she opened the famed sheet again and read: "'My conscience has troubled me ever since, dear, but I was forced to do as I did. Drop your answer----'" She paused. "I don't intend to read that part," she calmly announced, and no amount of coaxing would induce her to relent. No one should know where the letter to the prince was to be mailed, Alma was determined on that point at least. CHAPTER XIX A DESERTED TRYST Nora was disconsolate. For two days the dainties left for Lucia had remained untouched. The bread box which Vita had given her to play with, and into which the food was deposited for Lucia, stood upon the tree stump with the sliced lamb, the piece of cake, and the big orange which comprised the last installment offered by the sympathetic Nora, just as she had left it. "Can anything have happened to her?" Nora asked herself. She was almost too disappointed to sit down and rest in the cool, quiet shade. Cap sniffed the box but did not put a paw up to beg, and even the big noisy blue-jay scorned a few crumbs that lay on a fallen leaf. "Suppose he--murdered her!" It was not unusual for a girl like Nora to think the very worst first, in fact the normal, childish mind is very apt to leap at a sensation, but only the high spot is sensed, the detail is always conspicuously lacking. "Of course she is deadly sick. Oh, why didn't she let me know where she lived," Nora wailed secretly. "I could visit her and bring her all sorts of lovely things----" She lifted the paper napkin that covered the food offering. "What's this?" she exclaimed. A stiff little green leaf made of very shiny paper appeared, and with it, Nora found, was an old fashioned nose-gay, the sort beloved by the Italians and the Polish peasantry. Nora picked up the spray. It was tied with a green ribbon and somehow gave Nora a distinct shock. "Oh! She's dead, this is what they--have at funerals!" Tears welled up into the blue eyes, and hands holding the silent message trembled. Nora sat down and Cap nosed up to her; he knew something was the matter. Such a pathetic little bouquet! One stiff pink rose, one yellow daisy, two bright red carnations and three very stiff green leaves, all made of a sort of oil-cloth paper. A tear fell into the heart of the rose. If it were not really a flower it was at least a good picture of one, just as a photograph can so vividly remind one of the original. Nora went back to the box. "When can she have put it here?" she wondered. It was under the paper plate. Then she recalled that this last donation had been hastily deposited in the box, for it was late and Nora had to hurry back to get ready for her own tea at the time she placed it there. "I must have it put right on her flowers," she pondered. "Poor, abused, little Lucia!" Picking up the untouched food Nora discovered a slip of soiled paper beneath it. There was writing on it, a scrawl of some kind. She carried it to the light out from under the dense trees. "Yes, it's a note," murmured Nora, as if Cap, her only companion, understood. And it just says "'Goodbye, with love.'" Nora read and reread the scribble. It was written, she decided, in Lucia's hand, for it was such a crooked, uneven scrawl. The paper was a leaf torn from a book, and this assured Nora that at some time Lucia must have gone to school. "After all my joy, the party, the enrollment and everything, this has to come," thought the discouraged girl. "I hoped today I could induce her to come over and see Ted and Jerry." It was too disappointing. For the first few days Nora had felt it was safer to allow Lucia to have her way, and when she waited and waited, until the Italian girl appeared, then coaxed and urged that she come over to the cottage, Lucia showed signs of real fright. She would have run from the tree-tent and never returned, if Nora had not promised to agree to her secrecy. After that the benefactor brought the food but was never able to get more than a fleeting glimpse of Lucia, as she scurried off like a little black rabbit with her precious food and her strange secret. And now she was really gone and had said goodbye. "Why didn't I tell Alma?" sighed Nora, regretfully. "She might have known a better way to have helped her." Too late to reason thus, Nora with a heavy heart again covered the tin box, hoping something would bring Lucia back; then she took the quaint floral token and started for the Nest. Her plans to help Lucia had included everything from a change of home to a complete change of identity, for Nora felt the stranger must have been in sore need, and why couldn't she induce Cousin Ted to adopt such a pretty, forlorn child? It was characteristic of Nora to decide on the most dramatic course, for such a possibility as a mother, father, or family in the background of Lucia's life was not thought of. And was this to be the end of her precious secret? She squeezed the paper bouquet until the humble ribbon wrinkled into a sad bit of stuff, and then decided to put the token away with her most precious belongings. Maybe Lucia would come back, and if she ever did Nora decided positively she would then tell someone about the child, even tell Cousin Ted if need be, and, certainly, Alma. "And now I must go to my letter box," she told Cap, the faithful. Looking up and down, in and out, far and near, to make sure no one saw her, Nora followed the trail to the bent willow--the hiding place of Alma's correspondence with the fabled prince. She had been there, the moss was a shade lighter where feet had pressed the velvet nap, and the leaves of the bushes were still "inside out" from a hasty brushing made to clear a path to the bent willow. Under the stone, as directed, Alma had placed her answer to the prince's letter, and finding it there she quickly hid the envelope in her deepest blouse pocket. She would read it in more comfort, enjoy it more at home, with the door locked. "What an exciting vacation I am having, really!" she reflected. "When I came all I could think of was pretty things." Had she been that Nora once so filled with foolish fancies that life, brief as it had been to her, seemed too full of nonsense to admit of real joys with girl companions, and any number of adventures? "A real vacation indeed," concluded the girl in khaki, holding close Lucia's flowers and Alma's letter. She was sorely tempted to peek into the latter, but that would spoil the delicious secret reading, which to be complete would have to be made in solitude. It had been days since she went out "on location" with the cousins--Jerry always called surveying "doing location," as the moving picture folks termed their work, but so many other things claimed her attention it seemed difficult to get them all in. Cousin Ted was very busy herself, but had managed to write Nora's mother. A glowing account of the Scout interests was surely given in that letter, and Jerry was disappointed when Ted refused to ask permission for Nora to stay during the winter. To this, woman-like, Mrs. Jerry Manton had not agreed, because to go to school in the wilderness is always more picturesque than practical. But Nora had endeared herself to those generous hearts, and even the thought of that real mother with an unreal name did not thrill her as did the knowledge that she had "made good" with these devoted friends. Home now--that is to the Nest, Nora rushed up to her room to devour Alma's letter. She ignored Vita's appeal to come see the wonderful flowers sent from some one for Mrs. Manton. She must read the letter before going down to dinner. In the biggest chair by the open window beyond locked doors she unfolded the precious page. "She writes a pretty hand," was the first comment. Then she read: "'Camp Chickadee. "'My dear Prince: "'How wonderful to get a letter from you! As you have guessed I did think of you ever since. Please tell me who you are and where you live? We Scouts would love to know you and perhaps we can tell you some interesting things about America, if, as I surmise, you are a visitor here.'" "Oh mercy," gasped Nora. "I have only made matters worse. She actually believes I am a prince. What ever shall I do?" The letter lay mute and yet accusing. Nora had written Alma a first letter to prepare her for the second. True, she did not explain--but she fancied somehow Alma would come to the tree, and then perhaps they would meet and settle the whole troublesome business. "But it's worse, heaps worse," sighed Nora. The call from down stairs was unanswered, for she must plan something else and that quickly. First she thought of writing another letter with a complete and full confession, but she dreaded it, shrank from it and finally abandoned the idea. "If it only were not Alma," she sighed. "I would almost enjoy the joke on some of the others, but Alma!" Nothing could be worse than this nagging at her conscience. She must conquer it. And here was the new trouble about Lucia! "I always thought secrets were such fun, and yet these are positively--tragic," she thought. "If only I could tell Alma about Lucia, at least that would be a comfort." Another call from Vita. Cousin Ted and Cousin Jerry were in now. The cheery whistle and the joyful "Whoo-hoo!" must be answered. "Oh, dear me!" sighed Nora. "I suppose things always happen that way." She gave Lucia's flowers an affectionate squeeze, dropped them into her ivory box, slipped Alma's letter under the cushion and went down to dinner. CHAPTER XX THE WORST FRIGHT OF ALL It was growing dusk--the sunset seemed in a great hurry to get away, and day time was evidently going to the same party. The Mantons failed to induce Nora to accompany them on a "bug hunt," Jerry's term for Ted's moth expedition. Vita too seemed in haste to get somewhere, and altogether the evening was especially popular to make escapes in. Nora was going over to camp, she announced, and would be there long before dark. The girls would come home with her, she had assured the prudent Ted. So everything was settled and the Nest would be unoccupied, with Cap as guard, for that evening. Not a smile broke the serious look on Nora's face. It was evident the program for the evening included something very important. "Goodbye," called out Ted. "Be sure to go over to camp, right away, or the dark will--catch you." "Yes'm," echoed Jerry, "and Mr. Dark knows no distinctions at Wildwoods. He throws a big black blanket over the whole kaboodle." Nora replied, but even the joke did not cheer her. A few minutes later she stood at the foot of the attic stairs, drew a long breath; then dashed up. Over to the chest that contained the costumes long ignored, she literally dashed, yanked up the lid and dragged out the Lord Fauntleroy outfit. She counted the pieces, waist, jacket, knickers, sash--where was the cap? Nervously she fumbled over the tangle of garments, but did not find it. "I had better dress first," she decided, "and come up again for the cap. I am--so--nervous----" No need to make the confession, for even her hands, young and usually steady, actually dropped the velvet coat right on the dusty attic floor. No time for looking in the mirror. The knickers were kept up with round garters now, a Scout acquisition, and the thin white blouse that went under the jacket, went under very quickly--fullness and strings jabbed in wherever space allowed. In a remarkably short time she was inside the entire outfit. One glimpse in the glass assured her she was again garbed as the fickle prince. Then for the cap. "I have time to run and get it," she assured herself. "Of course, I must have that cap." Back to the attic, now a shade darker, and then again into the mysteries of the costume chest, she rummaged. "Oh, dear," she sighed. "I'll be--here it is! Thank goodness!" She just jabbed it on her head. A sound startled her. She stood still, every sense alert. "What was it?" she instinctively asked. Again. It--was--a low--moan! Pausing only long enough to make sure her nerves were not fooling her, Nora heard again, distinctly, a sound, a human or inhuman moan! Then she rushed down the stairs, kept on rushing until she reached the street door, and realizing no person was upon the premises, ran down the road, straight for Chickadee Camp. No thought of her appearance concerned her; she must get the girls to come back and find out what was in the attic! Only once she stopped, just to make sure the cap was not going to fall off her yellow head. Voices and laughter came to meet her. That was Thistle and Wyn---- Gulping back a choking, nervous gasp, she rushed on. The next minute she dashed into Chickadee Camp and stood before an amazed group of Scouts. "The prince!" went up a shout. "My prince!" corrected Alma. "Why, it's Nora----" "Girls!" gasped the intruder. "Listen, please, I am no prince----" "You are indeed. Just look at the dandy outfit. Alma, we most humbly apologize----" "Wyn," shouted Thistle, "please listen! Can't you see there is something the matter?" "Oh, there is really, girls," panted Nora. "Come quick! There is someone--dying in our--attic!" "Dying?" "I was up there--getting these things, and I--heard the awfulest moans----" "Maybe it was Cap," suggested Treble. Her eyes had not wandered from the surprising spectacle. "Oh, no, he was outside," said Nora, "and no one is home, not even Vita. Oh, please do come! I know someone is in agony," and her voice trailed off into agony of her own. "I'll lead," volunteered Thistle. "Come along, every one. Alma, you can take care of your--prince," she could not resist injecting. "Oh Alma," sighed Nora. "I was planning to come to explain to you----" "You don't need to," and a most affectionate and all encompassing look went from Alma to Nora. "I know all--about it now, and you are my prince, just the same." "Come along, you two lovers," ordered Thistle the leader. "You had a 'crush' on Nora from the first, Alma. Now we all know why. Fall in there, Betta. No need to wait for guns----" "I am not going without some weapon of defense," declared Betta. "Nora knows her own attic, and she knows when someone is moaning. It may be a lunatic. There is always an asylum in a pretty place like this." "Oh, is there?" cried Nora. "I would be afraid to face a--lunatic in that big, dark, attic----" "I should think you would, lunatic or just plain, human being," agreed Laddie. "You look delectable enough for anyone to just eat you up----" "Can't you girls realize this is an emergency, not a debate?" snapped Thistle. "We don't suppose Nora is dying of fright just for fun. Betta, run over and tell Becky." "Oh, don't let's have her along," interrupted Treble, bent on making the most of the adventure. "You know she would have to do something we wouldn't." "Right," agreed Wyn. "Come along Scouts! 'Jeuty' calls us." They had been "coming along" all the time. These expressions merely gave vent to pent up energy. Nora, although thoroughly frightened, was thankful that the dark helped hide her dismay. Alma had her arm, and Alma was thinking in terms of "prince," even the pretender was conscious of that. The girls giggled and talked, as they always did, and as Betta took time to remark, "they would be apt to do it at their own funerals." There was no suppressing Wyn, and Treble fell but a peg below in volubility. "Look out there!" called Thistle. Everyone halted. "What?" demanded Wyn. "A puddle," replied the heartless leader. "And I'm responsible for the shine on your shoes, lunatic or no lunatic," she declared loudly. "When my turn comes to lead for a week I'll have that wretched girl up every day at dawn," threatened Betta. "She has the cruelest way of raising one's hopes." "Had you hopes for the lunatic in the mud puddle?" demanded Laddie. "You had better get your sense valve working," suggested Doro. "We are almost there." "Right," added Treble. "I can see the gate light now." "How ever will we go up there in the dark?" Nora asked Alma. "I will be afraid to go into the house." "Don't you worry, dear," Alma was still under the influence. "We will all go in together, and Thistle isn't afraid of man or beast." Arrived at the Nest Nora was confronted with a light at the back of the house. "Someone home?" suggested Thistle. "There shouldn't be," declared Nora. "Everyone is out for the evening." "Where is Vita?" asked the same leader. They had stopped at the natural hedge, and now stood under the picturesque, homemade arc light--Jerry's lantern with the red globe. "Vita went out somewhere. She often does, and you see I was going over to camp, so there was, really, no one at home." "Your dying princess has come down stairs to die," suggested the irrepressible Wyn. "Princess?" scoffed Nora. "Or was it merely a maid in waiting--excuse me, your _man_ in waiting." "Wyn," shouted Laddie, "can't you see you are making yourself ridiculous at a time like this?" She probably couldn't for she went off into a gale of laughter and had to go behind a bush to enjoy it. "There is someone in the kitchen," declared Treble. "Here she comes!" She did; she came right out and greeted them. It was Vita! CHAPTER XXI STRANGE DISCLOSURES For a moment no one spoke--they were all so surprised. "Hello!" called out Vita. "What's this? A party?" Her English was perfect. "No, it isn't Vita," Nora managed to answer. "I was almost scared to death----" "Let me tell her, Nora," interrupted Thistle, the leader. "I'm not going in that house with her until Cousin Ted comes home," declared Nora. "Vita is always putting me off. She knows what that noise up in the attic is." "Have you heard it before?" asked Betta. "Yes, a number of times----" "Then, if the moaner did not die before, Nora, what makes you think the present attack would be fatal?" Wyn came out from the bush to inquire. "Land sakes, Wyn! Will you hush? Fun is all right in its place but this is serious," warned Pell. "Looks it," whispered the same Wyn, into Betta's unwilling ear. "Nonsense, standing here like a----" "Serenading party," finished Laddie. "Let's begin." "Serenading?" An uncertain and feeble whistle followed, but in the dark no one owned up to it. "You coming in? No?" asked and answered Vita. "No. We are not coming in," declared Nora, who had stepped up to the door at which the spacious Vita stood. "We heard a noise up in the attic and we were coming in to investigate, but we won't now." The girls were audibly disappointed. They said so outright. "Perhaps she doesn't know a thing about it," suggested Laddie. "Don't you think, Nora, we ought to go in and look around?" "No, I don't. She is in the plot, or secret or whatever it is," declared Nora aside. "When I first came here I heard it----" "Why didn't you tell us?" demanded Doro. The parade had come to a useless halt. "I don't know," murmured Nora. "You know I had queer ideas at first," she faltered, unconsciously smoothing down the pretty little velvet knickers and slipping a nervous hand into an inadequate pocket. "We know, but we all have--at first," admitted Laddie. "I used to think I would love Thistle, and see what she has done to us with her old bossing." The challenge went unanswered. "Can't we go to the bench and talk it over?" suggested Betta, unwilling to leave the scene thus unsatisfied. "Oh, no, please don't," begged Nora. "I don't know just what I fear, but actually, girls," she did whisper this, "I am as much afraid of Vita now as I am of the thing up in the attic." "Your nice, fat, good natured Vita?" asked Pell in surprise. The person spoken of had gone indoors discreetly. "I don't mean that I am afraid of her all the time," Nora hastened to correct. "She is as good as gold, generally, and I am sure Vita is honorable. But it is that attic affair--she is in some way connected with that, and I am not going to take a chance of getting frightened again tonight. You have no idea how I felt, up there all alone, in fact I was all alone in the house when I heard that groan." "Groan?" Wyn could not resist. "I thought it was a moan?" But no one paid any attention to the remark. Betta suggested they agree with Nora and all go back to camp. "We can bring Nora back home about the time she expects her Cousin Jerry," Betta's suggestion included. "There is no sense in subjecting her to more terror with the Italian woman." "For once I agree with you, Betta," answered Thistle. "March back to the Chickadee, every Scout of you, and see that you don't wallow in that mud puddle." "But the prince?" inquired Wyn. "Is he to walk through ordinary mud puddles?" "No. Of course not. You and the other big girl, Treble by name, are to carry him. Avaunt!" ordered the leader. "Oh please----" protested Nora; but in vain. She was upon the shoulders of Wyn and Treble before she had a chance to finish her useless appeal. "Put your royal arms around me," chanted Treble. "If you don't you may be dumped," warned the other slave. "Listen!" ordered someone. "Here comes the whole camp! Are we out after hours?" "If we are we can plead emergency," explained Thistle. "How could we wait for permission when someone was moaning to death?" They took up the march in real earnest. As faithful Scouts they always kept to regulations and found pleasure in doing so. Only Nora's call of distress had lured them away as darkness was setting in. "Please let me walk," begged Nora. "I know you must get back as quickly as you can, and I am sure I have given you enough trouble." "We love to carry you," insisted Wyn. "Besides, we know it's our last chance. Alma will be unconscious in the throes of love from this on," she finished with a lurch that brought the erstwhile prince to "his" feet in spite of their intentions. A few more accidents, minor and major, according to the way said accidents were accepted, and the squad arrived at Chickadee. Nora was now more embarrassed than ever. How could she again go in among all those sensibly-clad girls in that ridiculous costume? Besides, now she was bound to tell the whole miserable story. "Where have you girls been?" began Becky, who stood waiting. "Did you not know this was story night?" "We have been out scouting, and we did," replied Thistle in her most docile tone. "Becky, love, we have the bravest thrill of our entire career to unfold." "Begin, please, by explaining the infraction of hours," said Miss Beckwith, although her manner belied her demand, and the summer twilight lasted. "The thrill is none other than someone, anyone, dying of moans," said Wyn. "We have with us tonight----" At this she craned her neck over the tallest of them to locate little Nora. But she, the guest of honor, was hiding behind Treble. "When you hear the whole wonderful tale," promised Pell, "you will only be sorry you were not along. We have been out gunning for attic ghosts." After more talk of this variety Nora was dragged forth. How pretty she looked in the camp light! A glow from the fire that had been lighted for stories, surrounded the little prince, and, as the picturesque figure stood in the center of the group of admiring eyes, even the glory of the modern Scout uniform was threatened with eclipse. In the late twilight the effect was entrancing. "Isn't she darling?" "Just look at those--panties?" "Oh, don't you remember----" "Sweet Alice Ben Bolt." "No, not Alice, but the night we fought over those bloomers," recalled Treble. "They're not bloomers. They're rompers." Then began that whole foolish debate which ended up by Thistle declaring they might be overalls for all it mattered, if only the girls would let Nora tell her story. Pell and Treble agreed. The introduction was briefly outlined for Becky's benefit, then Nora was allowed to tell it as it appeared to her--that is, she was allowed to begin to tell it that way, but what with the interruptions, the suggestions, the questions, and the qualifying clauses, it was small wonder the willing culprit made poor headway. As the story took the shape of a confession Nora seemed to be the culprit, but judging from the approval voiced by the multitude they all had little regard for _her_ brand of "crime." In other words, Nora only imagined she had offended, the entire detail made a most interesting story as it was told around the campfire blaze of Chickadee Patrol. She admitted frankly that her early notions were anything but practical, she bravely recounted her weakness for fancy things, including ivory bureau sets and pink ribbons, to which more than one Chickadee added her own little admission, in fact, Pell said she always did and always would love pink; brown khaki and smoked pearl buttons to the contrary notwithstanding. The telling of her attempt at attic tenancy brought forth peal after peal of laughter, in which Nora joined. Then she told all about her disguise as the fabled and famous prince. "I think it is all too jolly for words," insisted Laddie, "and what do you say, girls, to our adopting Prince Adorable for our mascot?" This precipitated more trouble. Nora was put on the table, that long box used when weather was pleasant and drenched when weather was wet, and from that grandstand, or throne, she was called upon to make silly speeches, prompted by Wyn and interrupted by Betta. Alma objected. She insisted Nora had hinted to her something she ought to tell the others. And she further maintained it was a matter serious enough to put a stop to all nonsense, and "if the girls aren't willing to listen quietly, I shall take Nora over to the other tent, where she can tell Becky in peace," threatened Alma. This put a soft pedal on all unnecessary sounds: even Wyn desisted. "Tell us, Nora, please do tell," begged Wyn. "We have had fun enough to give our poor jaws a rest. Mine are aching from laughing." So Nora began. CHAPTER XXII THE DANGER SQUAD IN ACTION It was a fascinating tale. Every detail told by Nora took on new value as it was silently applauded by her eager audience. Thus encouraged she waxed eloquent, and when she finished all about the wearing of the Fauntleroy costume, then her desire to tell Alma the truth, when she knew the Scouts were teasing the Tenderfoot, the recital might well have been called a credit, even to the girl who felt guilty of its secrets. "You see," she said naïvely, "I was always so much alone. I had no companion but Barbara, and she agreed with everything I said." "What a change this must be!" murmured Wyn. "Hush!" warned Betta. "Funny as you are, Wynnie, you _can_ be rude." "And now, girls," said Nora in a brand new tone of voice, "as I have told you all of that, I feel anxious to tell you something else. I have another secret and I think it is much more serious than anything else that has happened on this wonderful vacation." "Out with it," begged some one, but Nora did not hear the thoughtless phrase. Miss Beckwith sat with the girls, encouraging their confidences, and the usual safety in numbers was surely a clue to the satisfaction of the novel meeting. Secrets were best shared by the multitude, then what one was not wise enough to know, some one would surely be clever enough to guess--so far as solution of the problem went. "One day when I was wandering around--it was the day we had such a wonderful time----" Nora started. "When you learned to swim?" prompted Wynnie. "I think it was. Well, I just walked along a lane I had never found before," continued the prince--for she was still that noble character, "and under a cave of pines--they grew so thick I could hardly see there, it was almost as dark as night; and right there, in a bed of leaves I saw something move." Just who was it that choked back Wyn's interruption does not matter, but presently Nora continued: "At first, of course, I thought it was a dog or something like that, but all of a sudden it sat up!" "Oh!" exclaimed the sympathetic Alma. "Yes, it sat up and looked at me with eyes like coals of fire." "Nora!" shouted Laddie. "I am all goose flesh, please tell us who had the eyes." "I'm trying to," said Nora, realizing the value of pauses. "I was so frightened I wanted to run, but before I could do so the creature showed how frightened she was----" "She!" This was Betta. "Yes, it was a poor, miserable little girl, all rags and eyes, and so sad looking! Really girls, my heart went out to her," declared the story teller in her most Nora-esque manner. Titters barely tinctured the atmosphere. Miss Beckwith begged the girls to listen politely. "I managed to get her to tell me her name," said Nora next. "And it was Lucia." "Lucia," repeated a chorus in perfect time, pronouncing it "Luchia." "Yes, a poor, neglected, little Italian girl, who has to work on one of the big farms----" "There!" almost shouted Alma. "I knew when you saved your picnic lunch it was for something noble. It was for Lucia, wasn't it?" "Yes, but after bringing her food for days she suddenly disappeared." "What happened to her?" asked Pell. "How can I tell?" sighed Nora. "I have done everything to find out. I have even had Cousin Ted drive me around the big farms hoping to get a glimpse of her, but I never saw any one who even looked like her. Then, I haven't told you the most pathetic part," she paused again. "The last day I went to fetch her a lovely piece of pie, you know I used to put food in a big tin box Vita gave me; well, there was all that I had left the day before. Of course, I was awfully disappointed and I felt so--sorry I had not told you girls----" "If you had, Nora," said Miss Beckwith, gently, "we might have found a way to help the child." "I know that, Becky, and I am telling this now partly to----" "Ease your conscience," prompted Pell. "Yes; I don't want any more secrets. They are more worry than they can possibly be worth," said Nora tritely. "You were telling us about the box," prompted Alma. "Oh, yes; but I must hurry, I have to go home very soon. It is time the folks were back." "Tell us the rest and we won't interrupt once," promised Wyn in a contrite tone, and she seemed to mean it. "I found a little paper bouquet in the box," Nora continued. "And a scribbled bit of paper." "What was on it?" Betta could not help asking. "Just a few words, 'Goodbye, I love you.'" Nora stopped suddenly. "The poor, little thing," commiserated Alma. "And could you find no way to tell who she was or where she lived?" "I didn't dare ask anyone outright," answered Nora, "because you see, I had promised not to tell anyone about meeting her. She was in terror of a man she called Nick." "Nick?" repeated a number. "Yes; she would only say he was a bad man, and I know she feared him for she would tremble so when she mentioned his name." Miss Beckwith had remained in the background. If she knew a way to solve the mystery, evidently she did not think the time had come to disclose it. "But when I found she was gone--I knew what a mistake I had made in not telling anyone about it. Even if she was afraid, I could surely have trusted--Alma," sighed Nora. In the semi-darkness none could see the look of affection Alma threw out. Her sensitive soul had found solace in the companionship of the almost equally sensitive Nora. "I must go," insisted Nora. "The folks will be home and I am going to tell them about that attic noise tonight, Vita or no Vita." "You are perfectly right in that," said Miss Beckwith. "Come along, girls, we will all see Nora home this time." They wanted to carry her back, but costumed and all that she was, Nora felt little like partaking in their frolic. She feared something. That moaning was human, of this she was certain; and it was equally certain that Vita was in too good health when she appeared at the door, to have been in any way implicated, physically. "If your folks have not returned will you come back and stay all night?" suggested Betta. "We could leave a message for them and you know you have not stayed a single night at camp yet." "I am sure they are at home, I see the light in the living room," responded Nora. "But thank you, just the same, Betta. I shall love to stay a night soon, I have been counting on having that treat before this vacation is over." They had rounded the curve and the Nest was now in full view. Presently they were at the door and Nora touched the knocker. There was no immediate response and she wondered. "I can see inside, the curtain is up, and I don't see a soul," she declared. "Nor hear a sound," added Pell who was listening at the keyhole. Here was another cause for wonderment. Nora rapped the knocker until the sound seemed doubly loud, reverberating in the dusk. But there was no answer. "What can it mean?" asked Nora anxiously. "I am sure some one lighted the lights, can they have gone out looking for me?" "Can't you get in?" asked Miss Beckwith. "Yes. I know where to find the emergency key. But I don't think I'll go in." Nora seemed doomed to spend the night at camp after all. The girls crowded around. Plainly any excitement was a welcome diversion for them. "Maybe the groaner lighted up," suggested Wyn, facetiously. "She seems to like traveling." "You are so brave, Wynnie," said Miss Beckwith, "I wonder would you be brave enough to go in and investigate?" "Certainly," came the quick rejoinder. "I'd like nothing better. Volunteers?" she called out. "Hush!" begged Nora. "It may be that Vita is upstairs and has not heard us, although she must have heard that knock." Again she rapped the knocker. "Hark!" said Betta. "I honestly thought I heard a cry." Everyone was now breathless. "I do hear some one crying," declared Alma. "Whoever can it be?" "That up-attic person, I'm sure," said Wyn. "Better get the key, Nora. We can't let them cry to death while we are all here, listening in." "I think I heard crying," said Miss Beckwith. "Perhaps you had better open the door, Nora." From under the fern dish Nora procured the key. Miss Beckwith took it, and presently the door was open. The hall was flooded with light, but everyone instinctively stepped back. There was no sound. "Where's Cap?" asked Nora. "We left him here." "There is really nothing to fear," said Miss Beckwith. "Here we are, a half dozen of us. I think we had better go inside. Maybe poor old Cap is locked in somewhere and held captive." "Oh, that's so," replied Nora. "He has a habit of getting in closets and he might have sprung the door shut. Sometimes he moans----" That was enough to excite practical sympathy, and everyone promptly stepped inside. Once within, it did not seem so fearful. Pell prowled around and Wyn made foolish noises; but Nora hung back. After satisfying themselves there was nothing wrong on the first floor they decided to investigate the second. "I can always hear it right over my room," said Nora when the band of Chickadees inundated that territory. "There! Did you hear that?" "Yes, someone is crying upstairs," declared Miss Beckwith, "and we must see who it is." "But suppose----" "Here's Cap. He would not let anyone touch us," declared Nora. "But Becky----" "Come along, girls, that is not the voice of a man or woman. Come, we must do something. It sounds like----" Bouncing up on Nora, Cap whined. "There, he knows, he wants me to go up. What is it, Cap?" Nora asked again, and again the dog whined piteously. Now, everyone was willing to lead, yet they formed quite an orderly drill. This was an emergency and emergency always means order for Scouts. CHAPTER XXIII RAIDING THE ATTIC No one could tell just how they got there, but realizing that some one was suffering they had all followed Cap to the attic, and there waited again for the sound that was to lead them to the victim. "There's a cabinet over there," Nora whispered. "A person might hide in that." She was holding on to Alma and looked odd, indeed, still dressed in that gorgeous velvet costume. "Here's another light--this will show us the far end there," said Miss Beckwith, snapping on the extra bulb. "There it is!" gasped Pell. "Oh, it is somewhere--yes, come over here," she cried. "Surely that's a child!" The faint cry, that was almost like a sob, sounded again. It must be over under the low beams. Nora forgot her terror now, for she knew the secret place of the long, rumbling attic, and no sooner had she heard the distinct cry than she brushed past all the others, dragged up a big dust curtain, then stopped. "Here! Here!" she called frantically. "It's a little girl. Bring the candle!" Thistle was beside her with the extra light. "Oh, mercy!" gasped Nora. "It's Lucia." "Lucia," repeated the others. "Yes, my own little darling Lucia. Oh, child," she cried out, "what has happened to you? How ever did you get here?" "Go away. Please, go away. I can't tell you. Oh, where is Vita? Vita come!" begged a voice, while Nora tried in vain to soothe her. "Let me there!" ordered Miss Beckwith. "The poor little thing!" she continued. "She evidently has had a fit of hysteria. Just see her gasp! Keep quiet, dear," she said gently. "You are all right now. We will take care of you. There! Stop sobbing. Don't you know the girls?" "She knows me, don't you, Lucia?" asked Nora, anxiously. "Oh, I am so glad we found her. She might have died." "Don't let us waste time in talking. Here girls. Use your first aid, now. We must carry her down stairs to the air," ordered Miss Beckwith. They carried her down carefully and laid her on a couch by the window. "Where is this?" the girl murmured. Then she looked into Nora's face and something of the terror left her own. "Angel," she said simply, blinking uncertainly. "You know this little girl, don't you, Lucia?" pressed Becky now, anxious to arouse her. "Yes," she said. Nora cast a look of appeal at the director. She wanted to speak to the sick girl. Becky motioned she might do so. "Lucia," began Nora, very gently, "where did--you--come from?" "I run away from--Nick," she gasped, and again that look of terror flashed across the little pinched face. "Don't be frightened; you are here with me, Nora, now," said the girl in the velvet suit. "No one can touch you here." "Where--is--Vita? She not come back, bring doctor?" That was it. Vita had gone for a doctor. "She'll be here soon," soothed Miss Beckwith. The Scouts stood spell bound. How wonderful to have found the poor little waif right in Nora's own attic! There was a sound below. Vita came stamping up the stairs. "What is it?" she panted. Then seeing the crowd. "You come--save my poor little Lucia!" "Yes, Vita, we are here," replied Nora, sensing now the part that Vita had been playing. "We brought her down." "Poor Lucia. Vita's baby--Vita's bambino," crooned the woman, as she leaned over the couch and chaffed the trembling hands. It was a pathetic picture. The brilliantly-lighted room was like a stage with this strange drama being enacted upon it. The row of Scouts were unconsciously standing like a patrol at attention, while Nora in Fauntleroy dress, stood at Lucia's head; and the woman in the quaint peasant attire bent over; and then, there on the soft, bright couch, lay the inert figure with the great eyes staring out from under the bandage, evidently put on the hot forehead by Vita. No questions asked, every one could see the child was kin to Vita, but not her own child, perhaps her granddaughter. "She will be all right now, I think, Vita," said Miss Beckwith. "She just had a spell of hysteria, didn't she?" "Oh, she have a fit very bad," whispered the woman. "I run for doctor, quick, but he is no place----" her voice droned off into a low sound of foreign words, lamentation and wailings. "Why was she shut up there?" asked Nora. "She beg for dark--she never go in light when fit comes," Vita managed to make them understand. "I always hide her--she runs from Nick like anything. But he no hurt her, never. Just one time he scare her. She always cry so much he t'ink she might get better, and he scare her. Lucia run away and come to Vita, every time." "He didn't really hurt her," Miss Beckwith was both asking Vita and explaining to the girls. "Hysterical children must have a dread of something, and I suppose she seized on that." Lucia now sat up and looked about her. All the fear had left her, and her black eyes shone with relief. "She's all right now, aren't you, Lucia?" Thistle ventured to ask. The other girls were still spellbound. "Lovely," replied the child, actually rubbing her brown hand on the soft couch cover almost as if she were saying, "Nice! Nice!" "There come Cousin Jerry and Cousin Ted!" exclaimed Nora. "I'll bring them right up." "What Mrs. Jerry say?" asked Vita, anxiously. "Oh, that will be all right, Vita," said Nora, running along. "She'll understand everything." It is marvelous what sympathy can explain. No need for words to fill out the gaps. "Well, what a reception!" exclaimed the surprised Ted. "I never expected such a party as this." Her eyes fell upon Lucia. "A refugee?" she asked kindly. "Vita's little girl, Cousin Ted," said Nora, promptly. "We found her--sick." She did not say where. "She is in good hands now, I am sure," said Mrs. Manton, glancing around at the patrol. "We were detained with our fractious car--should have been home ages ago. Did you need anything? Have you had a doctor?" "She seemed merely hysterical," explained Becky. "I don't think she needs a doctor tonight. She will probably sleep well after the excitement--and exhaustion," she added in an undertone. "Well, of all things," exclaimed Mrs. Manton, suddenly getting a good look at Nora. "Have you been having a masquerade?" "A little Scout party," Miss Beckwith replied, to save Nora embarrassment. "This has been an eventful evening." "Must have been," agreed the hostess. "Shall we all go down and leave the child to rest?" she proposed. "_We_ must go," assured the leader. "It is not ten o'clock, I hope?" "No, and we'll run you over in our car--if the car will run. Mr. Manton is out tinkering with it. That's how he missed the excitement," Ted explained. Nora hung back with Lucia. She felt she had found her after so much anxiety, she was almost afraid the child would be spirited away if she should lose sight of her now. "How nice!" said Vita, and the relief in her own voice proved that the big woman had been suffering no little anxiety, herself. "I go home now, Vita," said Lucia, humbly. "I'm sorry, Vita." "Oh, you don't have to go home, Lucia," Nora hurried to interrupt. "You can stay right here. You don't want to go hide in the dark any more, do you Lucia?" "But I don't want to make the trouble." "She is so good when the fit is gone," said Vita, affectionately. "Poor Lucia, she can no help it." "Of course, she can't. I'll tell you, Vita, we'll ask Cousin Ted and I'm sure she'll let us fix Lucia up in that nice attic bed. Would you like that, Lucia?" enthused Nora. "She love the attic," said Vita. "She come every time, and I must hide her. But I no like to make the bother----" "And that was why you kept it secret!" said Nora. "Well, Vita, I did think you were--mean," she paused to soften the word, "but now I know why. And I am so glad to find Lucia again. You see, I knew her before." "You bring her the cakes----" "And you knew that, too?" Nora's secrets were fast evaporating. "Well, at any rate, Vita, you gave me a nice tin box and all the good things you could make, so I won't blame you. I'll run along and ask Cousin Ted about the attic. Dear me! What a blessing the girls came over with me! We might have been going on this way--for weeks and not have found out," she added. "But the girls have to hurry off; it is getting time to answer the night roll call. I'll be back in a minute, Vita," she was talking fast. "Don't let Lucia move until I tell you," she warned. "All right, little Nora," replied Vita fondly. "I have two little girls, now; yes, Lucia?" "The girls have to leave without hearing this whole wonderful story, Nora," said Ted, as they crowded out to the car, "but I have asked them to come over tomorrow. They will die of curiosity in the meantime if Miss Beckwith does not keep them too busy to get into such mischief," added the young woman jocularly. "Oh, Nora!" called out Wyn, "you come right over about daylight, will you? We'll leave a tent flap loose and you can crawl in. I would have nervous prostration if I had to wait until after inspection to hear the sequel. Good night!" "Good night! Good night! everybody!" went up the customary shout, and when the reliable little car, so recently called fractious by its owner, rumbled out into the roadway, the Scouts were actually singing their camp song. How wonderful to be girls! And how wonderful to be Girl Scouts! CHAPTER XXIV FULFILLMENT "Of course, she'll come over. Didn't I say I'd leave a flap up?" asked Wyn. It was so early that the very Chickadees, after whom the patrol had been named, were still asleep in their own tree-top scout tents. "As if she could get out of bed----" "Why couldn't she? After last night I wonder if she will ever feel safe in bed again. Seems to me," said the incorrigible Wynnie, "she could do lots more good sitting up--raiding attics and things like that." "But Chicks," said Thistle from a rumpled pillow, "isn't that child a dream?" "You mean didn't that child dream----" "No, I do not. I think she is the most adorable thing. Why, she looks exactly like a painting we have----" "There--there," soothed Treble. "Don't get homesick," Pell called out. "We have a few more days to go before time to break camp and you want to be in at the big party, don't you?" "I think the prince part simply the most marvelous story I have ever heard," said Treble, under her breath. It was too early to join in a general wake-up. "Leave it to Alma," whispered Laddie. "I always said these quiet little girls have the most fun. I heard Wyn groaning in her sleep after every one else was aslumber. That's the kind of fun _she_ has." "Looks as if Nora had not walked in _her_ sleep, at any rate," put in Betta. "I move we get up and slick things up early. How do we know but the myth flew away in the night?" "We don't, but she didn't," replied Treble crisply. "But hark to a familiar sound. It calls arise----" Then began the duties, and in spite of their anxiety to get over to the Nest, the Scouts did succeed in performing their tasks with the usual accuracy and unusual alacrity. At nine o'clock they were free. No need to ask what anyone was going to do that morning. Every Girl Scout who had been in "the raid" was ready to run before the day's orders had been read from the bulletin. They headed for the Mantons' cottage. "Did you ever?" "No, I never!" This was a part of the meaningless contribution in words offered as the girls came up to the Nest. They had seen the tableau on the front porch. "Hello!" called out Nora. "'Lo, yourself," sang back Thistle. "Too early for a fashionable call?" asked Treble. "Come along, girls," Mrs. Manton welcomed them. "I am sure Nora has been anxiously waiting for you. I'll let her tell you the news," she finished, indicating the chairs for the party. Lucia was in a big steamer chair. It almost swallowed up the tiny figure, but she had a way of reclining, quite gracefully. "How are you today, Lucia?" asked Alma. "Oh, I'm all right," replied the child, pinking through her dark skin. She looked very pretty in one of Nora's bright rose dresses, with the same color hair ribbon, and her feet encased in a pair of white slippers. No wonder she was "all right." "She's going to stay," said Nora proudly. "We've adopted her." "Quick work," remarked Laddie. "But I don't blame you. She looks as if she grew right here in this lovely big wild wood. Don't you like it, Lucia?" "Lots, much," said the child. "We found out all about it, of course," continued Nora. "Lucia won't mind if I tell you?" she questioned. "No," said the stranger. The single word indicated her timidity. "You see, she is the daughter of Vita's daughter who died last year," Nora explained. "She has been living with cousins, and the man Nick, of whom she was so frightened, is the cousin's husband." Lucia now seemed to shrink back, and at that sign Nora signaled the girls to leave the porch and adjourn to more convenient quarters for their confidences. Once away from the restriction, words flew back and forth in questions and answers, until Wyn wanted to know if it was all a duet between Alma and Nora, or could they make it a chorus? "And he didn't beat her?" demanded Pell. "And she is really related to Vita, not kidnapped?" asked Betta. "You didn't find her all bruised up----" "Now girls," scoffed Nora. "I know perfectly well you don't think anything of the kind. You all know Vita was always kind and generous----" "Whew!" whistled Wyn. "How we can change! I thought she was a regular bear this time yesterday morning." "I think your cousins are perfectly splendid," said Betta, sensibly. "Is she really going to adopt the child?" "We had a doctor this morning," said Nora with an important air, "and he advised change of scene----" "Let's take her over to Chickadee!" interrupted Thistle. "That would be a distinct and decided change." "Oh, hush," begged Alma. "What else did the doctor say, Nora?" "She is hysterical--all came from the fright of her mother's sudden death," continued Nora. "But girls, I don't know how much to thank you," she broke off. "Being a Scout has done much for me." "We believe you," said Wyn in her usual bantering way. "But say, little girl, are you going back to that school where they teach you to wear silk underwear in the cold, blasty winter weather? Couldn't you make out to get adopted at the Nest yourself?" A laugh, then a set of laughs, followed this. "You are coming over to camp tonight, remember," said Alma, seriously. "We have not initiated you yet, you know." "How about that first formal ducking, with Jimbsy in the background?" Pell reminded them. "That seemed all right for an initiation." Mrs. Manton was coming down the path with the inevitable letter. Was there ever a story finished without "a letter"? Mr. Jerry followed up. It was, as you have guessed, from Nora's mother, and she did grant permission for her to stay. "So," said Mrs. Teddy Manton, otherwise Theodora, while the real Jerry looked over her shoulder at the letter, and Cap sniffed approvingly at Nora's khaki skirt, "we expect to have Nora go to school in town this winter, and perhaps next summer we will all be back again at Rocky Ledge." "This was a real vacation," sighed Nora, "the best I ever had." "Three cheers!" yelled the Scouts; and Lucia from her porch was truly sorry she had ever called those girls "crazy." It was all so comfortable and safe now. Even her "bad fit" was gone with the winds, and how lovely to be out in the sunlight and have nothing to fear! Again came a riotous shout from the girls on and off the bench. "Chick! Chick! Chick-a-dees!" they yelled. And it must have been Wyn who echoed: "Cut! Cut! ka-dah! cut!" Girl Scouts are many and their adventures equally numerous, from mountain to valley, over hill and dale, and their further activities will be told of in the next volume of this series, which will be entitled: The Girl Scouts at Spindlewood Knoll. THE END. THE GIRL SCOUT SERIES By LILIAN GARIS 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid The highest ideals of girlhood as advocated by the foremost organizations of America form the background for these stories and while unobtrusive there is a message in every volume. 1. THE GIRL SCOUT PIONEERS, _or Winning the First B. C._ A story of the True Tred Troop in a Pennsylvania town. Two runaway girls, who want to see the city, are reclaimed through troop influence. The story is correct in scout detail. 2. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT BELLAIRE, _or Maid Mary's Awakening_ The story of a timid little maid who is afraid to take part in other girls' activities, while working nobly alone for high ideals. How she was discovered by the Bellaire Troop and came into her own as "Maid Mary" makes a fascinating story. 3. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT SEA CREST, _or The Wig Wag Rescue_ Luna Land, a little island by the sea, is wrapt in a mysterious seclusion, and Kitty Scuttle, a grotesque figure, succeeds in keeping all others at bay until the Girl Scouts come. 4. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP COMALONG, _or Peg of Tamarack Hills_ The girls of Bobolink Troop spend their summer on the shores of Lake Hocomo. Their discovery of Peg, the mysterious rider, and the clearing up of her remarkable adventures afford a vigorous plot. 5. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT ROCKY LEDGE, _or Nora's Real Vacation_ Nora Blair is the pampered daughter of a frivolous mother. Her dislike for the rugged life of Girl Scouts is eventually changed to appreciation, when the rescue of little Lucia, a woodland waif, becomes a problem for the girls to solve. Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York THE RUTH FIELDING SERIES By ALICE B. EMERSON 12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid Ruth Fielding was an orphan and came to live with her miserly uncle. Her adventures and travels will hold the interest of every reader. RUTH FIELDING OF THE RED MILL _or Jasper Parloe's Secret_ RUTH FIELDING AT BRIARWOOD HALL _or Solving the Campus Mystery_ RUTH FIELDING AT SNOW CAMP _or Lost in the Backwoods_ RUTH FIELDING AT LIGHTHOUSE POINT _or Nita, the Girl Castaway_ RUTH FIELDING AT SILVER RANCH _or Schoolgirls Among the Cowboys_ RUTH FIELDING ON CLIFF ISLAND _or The Old Hunter's Treasure Box_ RUTH FIELDING AT SUNRISE FARM _or What Became of the Raby Orphans_ RUTH FIELDING AND THE GYPSIES _or The Missing Pearl Necklace_ RUTH FIELDING IN MOVING PICTURES _or Helping the Dormitory Fund_ RUTH FIELDING DOWN IN DIXIE _or Great Days in the Land of Cotton_ RUTH FIELDING AT COLLEGE _or The Missing Examination Papers_ RUTH FIELDING IN THE SADDLE _or College Girls in the Land of Gold_ RUTH FIELDING IN THE RED CROSS _or Doing Her Bit for Uncle Sam_ RUTH FIELDING AT THE WAR FRONT _or The Hunt for a Lost Soldier_ RUTH FIELDING HOMEWARD BOUND _or A Red Cross Worker's Ocean Perils_ RUTH FIELDING DOWN EAST _or The Hermit of Beach Plum Point_ RUTH FIELDING IN THE GREAT NORTHWEST _or The Indian Girl Star of the Movies_ RUTH FIELDING ON THE ST. LAWRENCE _or The Queer Old Man of the Thousand Islands_ CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York 
42029	----	Girl Scouts Series, Volume 3 The Girl Scout's Triumph or Rosanna's Sacrifice By Katherine Keene Galt THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY CHICAGO AKRON, OHIO NEW YORK MADE IN U. S. A. Copyright, MCMXXI, by THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY THE GIRL SCOUTS SERIES 1 THE GIRL SCOUTS AT HOME 2 THE GIRL SCOUTS RALLY 3 THE GIRL SCOUT'S TRIUMPH [Illustration: Claire was lying there on the rug, and Claire was crying. Rosanna slid from her bed and ran across the room.] THE GIRL SCOUT'S TRIUMPH CHAPTER I The red-haired girl stared fixedly out of the window. There was nothing to look at but black night, and the light from within turned the glass into a dusky mirror where her image was clearly reflected. But she stared at it unseeingly, busy with her thoughts. She was very early, but in fifteen minutes or so the Girl Scouts would commence to arrive. It was something of an ordeal to face the strangers and she had planned to be the first one in the room. She thought it a distinct advantage to meet them so rather than to enter the room feeling that the fifteen or twenty pairs of eyes were all noting her and the brains belonging to them were registering the usual formula, "Goodness, what _red_ hair!" She never could see why people always spoke of her hair. Certainly there were redder heads, and her heavy, waving locks were always perfectly cared for, glossy and brushed with careful attention. She pulled the long braid over her shoulder and looked at it. The braid was thicker than her wrist, and when unbound it reached nearly to her knees. Almost petulantly she swung it behind her and turned her eyes toward the window again. They were queer eyes, a strange sea-green in color, and their black lashes and straight brows gave them a dark and brooding expression. She was pale, but it was not a wholesome pallor. She looked like a girl whose hours were not good, who sat up too late, and ate the wrong kinds of food. Her supple slender hands were bare except for a little finger ring of green jade set in silver. Her wrist-watch showed its tiny face from the center of a silver and jade bracelet. She wore the jewel pushed far up her sleeve. The door opened, and a tiny figure in the uniform of the Scout Captain entered. The red-haired girl, still staring into the night, did not bother to turn, and with a long glance at the unfamiliar and unfriendly back the little lady who had just entered advanced to the table in the center of the room and arranged the papers lying there. Occasionally she directed a puzzled glance toward the girl at the window, but silence filled the big room and the resolute shoulders showed no sign of curiosity or embarrassment. The little lady at the table smiled. She was well aware that the girl at the window, looking into the dark pane as in a looking-glass, was watching her closely. She frowned suddenly at the girl's rudeness, then smiled and went on with her task. A little later the door opened and a laughing, chattering group entered. Then and not until then did the red-haired girl rise and advance. The girls stared, and the stranger's lip curled. Her red hair! It was always so. Walking slowly toward the table, she started to give a perfunctory salute, a salute which changed character and became snappy enough as she felt her gaze held by a pair of deep, compelling eyes. The Scout Captain was tiny and looked not a day over sixteen; but she was the Captain, and the red-haired stranger reluctantly admitted it to herself. She could not complain of the friendliness of her greeting. Wanderer as she was, drifting here and there over the world, a Scout in one place after another, she was aware that here were girls filled with the simplest and most charming courtesy. Each one met her with a sweet warmth of manner that almost pierced her chill and reserve, and when she turned and took her seat as the business meeting commenced, the girls were all along wondering if the stranger was shy, sad, or merely bored. A feeling of puzzled resentment stirred in a few. If the strange girl did not wish to be friendly, why had she brought herself and her jade green eyes and her queer ring into their happy circle? The meeting progressed quietly. The strange new element cast a spell over the happy group. It was not as though they were depressed; it was rather as though they were waiting for something to happen, as though it was time for the curtain to go up on a new and exciting play. The girls, all a little restless by nature, smiled, shifted in their seats and occasionally touched each other with friendly, caressing hands. They regarded the little Captain with adoring eyes and cast questioning and friendly glances toward the newcomer. She, however, ignored them all. It was as though she sat alone, her strange, deep eyes fixed on the Captain's sparkling face, studying it with cool, impersonal interest. She never changed her easy, graceful position, and her delicate hands rested in her lap motionless as though carved from wax. The meeting closed, and as was their custom when a new girl joined, the Scouts gathered around the stranger with pretty, friendly advances. As they spoke to her, she regarded them with the same curious gaze she had bent on the Scout Captain. "We are so glad you have joined us," said a sparkling mite, dancing from one tiny foot to the other. "You say your name is Claire Maslin? Mine is Estella LaRue." "And mine is Jane Smith," said a tall beauty with golden hair and pansy-blue eyes. "Plain Jane," laughed little Estella, swinging on Jane's arm. "Have you just moved to Louisville?" asked another girl softly. "Yes," said Claire. It was the first time she had spoken and the girls waited breathlessly for more information. But the simple yes was her whole contribution. "Well, you must let us see a lot of you," said a bright-faced girl with docked hair. "Where do you live?" "At the Seelbach at present," said Claire Maslin. Her voice was very deep and throaty for a young girl, and she spoke slowly. Again the girls waited, expecting an invitation to call, but Claire said nothing. The silence grew oppressive. At the table the Scout Captain and a group of the girls were deep in some important discussion. No help could be expected from that quarter. It came, however, as the colored house-boy appeared at the door. "Cunnel Maslin's car," he announced. "Good-night," said Claire Maslin, her sudden smile sweeping the group and embracing them all. She left them and, moving easily toward the table, said a polite but brief good night to the little Captain. "We will see you out," said Estella LaRue, tugging at plain Jane and accompanying the newcomer to the door. She passively allowed them to come, and the door closed. In five minutes the two girls, round eyed and astonished, rushed back. "Oh, what _do_ you think?" cried Jane. "Yes, what?" echoed Estella, dancing up and down. "_I_ think she is a fairy princess in disguise," said Jane, nodding her golden head. "_I_ think she is a grouch," said a stout girl at the table, turning suddenly. "Why, Mabel, you positively must not say a thing like that!" said the little Captain in a shocked tone. "She is shy, and it is a good deal to come and meet so many girls at one time." "Do let us tell you what happened!" begged Estella. "We followed her out into the cloak-room, and she put on the _best_ looking hat and Jane commenced to look for a cloak that might be hers. But I was watching her, and she put her hand inside her blouse, and brought out a little handful of stuff and shook it out, and oh dear, oh dear, you never, never saw anything so wonderful!" "It was a big scarf of silk or chiffon or crepe. Something soft and cobwebby and heavy all at the same time. She wound it around her, and Estella stuttered, 'Won't you freeze in that?'" "She said, 'My cloak is in the hall,' and we followed her down to the door, and there--" "Standing against the wall," broke in Estella-- "Like a graven image," interrupted Jane-- "Was a _Chinaman_!" cried both girls. "A _Chinaman_!" exclaimed the crowd as one girl. "Yes," said Jane, while Estella danced up and down and nodded violently. "He had her cloak over his arm, and she spoke to him in some jabbery language, Chinese I suppose, and he shook the cloak open and put it around her shoulders. It was soft white fur." "Simply _too_ lovely," sighed Estella. "Then she said good-night, nothing else, and went out with the Chinaman following," completed Jane. "Who can she be?" said Estella dreamily. "A fairy princess, I reckon." "Fairy fiddlesticks!" laughed the little Captain. "It is all very simple. Her father has been here to see me. He is a colonel in the Army and for a long time was stationed in China. Hence the Chinese servant. Her father, Colonel Maslin, is very anxious to have her know some nice girls. Claire joined the Girl Scouts when they were stationed in Washington. Colonel Maslin says Claire finds it difficult to make advances, and I want you all to be as friendly as you can be." "Well, I would hate to have a heathen holding _my_ cloak," said Mabel piously. "What did he have on?" "Chinese clothes, of course, and made of silk, and all loose and baggy and flowing and embroidered, and sort of bluish and purplish and goldish." "Must have been rather weird," said Mabel, sniffing. "It wasn't weird one bit," declared Estella. "It was the most gorgeous thing I ever saw except that white fur cloak. Oh, and did you notice that queer ring she wears? Just exactly the color of her eyes. I suppose that is Chinese too." "She has had a most thrilling life, I am sure," said the little Captain. "I think she can tell us some interesting things when she feels acquainted with us. She is either very reserved or very shy. Don't rush her; just be your own dear friendly selves, my girls, and do all you can for her. Something tells me that Claire Maslin needs us." "Someone always needs us, seems to me," said Mabel. "We just get one person off our minds when up pops someone else." "Well, don't you think it is splendid and all sorts of fun to be of service?" demanded a bright, pretty, blond girl with docked hair. "I suppose so," grumbled Mabel, "but I think sometimes it would be nice to think just about myself for a while." The girls looked shocked, but the little Captain suddenly laughed. "Very well," she said. "It is worth trying if you think it would make you happy. I will detail you, Mabel, to make a study of this. For the coming week I want you to think wholly and _only_ of yourself. You will keep a daily notebook and jot down exactly what you do for yourself and what you leave undone for others. Be sure to make note of the amount of happiness you get out of it. You will report at our weekly meeting next Saturday. There is an extra meeting on Wednesday but you need not present any report then." Mabel looked at Mrs. Horton with round, astonished eyes. "Why, Captain, I can't _do_ it," she said. "My mother wouldn't allow it at all. Why, she simply wouldn't! She is always preaching generosity and unselfishness." "I don't believe she will notice what you are doing," said the Captain. "If she does, you can explain it to her. Otherwise say nothing at all. This is a Scout order, remember, and I expect you to do it with all your heart. We want to work this out. It will be very interesting to learn just how much pleasure one can get from absolute selfishness. That is what you really mean, you know, Mabel, when you want to live entirely for yourself." "If everyone did it, no one would have to do anything for anyone else, would they? Everything would be all done, and everyone would be doing just what they liked best to do," said Mabel, sticking to her point. "Perhaps," granted the Captain. "It is worth trying out." "Why don't we all try it for a week?" suggested Mabel, feeling that perhaps there was safety in numbers. "That would be upsetting," said the Captain. "You shall be our pioneer, Mabel." "Well, mother won't stand for it, I know," said the girl as she pulled on her soft tam-o'-shanter and said good-night. She went out very thoughtfully and the Captain with a queer little smile hurried to the telephone booth and called a certain number. A long conversation with Mabel's mother followed: a conversation punctuated by much laughter and a little sadness. When the Captain returned to the big scout room, all the girls had gone excepting the three she loved the best. Elsie Hargrave, the little French orphan adopted by Mrs. Hargrave and living in her splendid residence near by; Helen Culver, whose clever father had once been old Mrs. Horton's chauffeur; and the Captain's niece by marriage, Rosanna Horton: Rosanna of the dark eyes and lovely smile; Rosanna, whose tender and generous disposition made her well-loved wherever she went. "What did you do that for, sweetness?" said Rosanna, putting an arm around the tiny Captain. "You mean that detail for Mabel?" laughed little Mrs. Horton. "She needs it, and I am sure it will work out exactly right. Mabel is continually fretting about what she has to do for other people and what she is obliged to do at home. I think she is not nearly so selfish as she tries to be, but she is certainly taking a wrong turn. I want to help her if I can." "She will be punished if she gets any worse than usual," said Helen with conviction. "Her mother just simply _hates_ selfishness and keeps after Mabel all the time." "Perhaps that is where part of the trouble lies," said Mrs. Horton, nodding her head. "Well, I don't believe she will interfere this time." "Trust the dear little one to arrange all," said Elsie in her pretty way. "We will have a good many thrills, I think," said Helen, laughing, "between Mabel's experiment and that funny new girl, Claire Maslin." Mrs. Horton looked grave. "Confidentially, girls, I have a feeling that the 'funny new girl' as you call her, is not so funny after all. There is trouble enough there somewhere, and we must help her through." CHAPTER II When Mabel Brewster left the Horton residence, she found her brother Frank waiting for her. He was bursting with curiosity. "Say, Mabe," he exclaimed, "who is the nifty red-head with the Chinese footman? Some style, I say. Who is she?" "A new Girl Scout," said Mabel absently. Even the mysterious stranger was crowded out of her thoughts by the new orders she was about to follow. "Well, don't you know her name, or where she lives, or anything about her?" demanded Frank. "What ails you?" retorted Mabel testily. "I thought you had no use for girls." "Don't usually," said the lad, "but this one is different. Comes sailing out with that Chink at her shoulder, and she was talking thirteen to the dozen in Chinese or something." "Talking?" interrupted Mabel. "You don't mean she spoke, do you?" "Not exactly," grinned Frank. "She simply rattled it off by the yard, and the Chinaman just went along nodding like one of those little china figures with wiggly heads you see in the Japanese shops." "Did she take the Chinaman along in the car?" asked Mabel curiously. "Yep! It was a big limousine, and the Chinaman hopped up in front with the driver. Miss Red-head sat alone like a queen. Say, she has wads of that red hair, hasn't she?" "I didn't notice," said Mabel. "What have you been doing? Playing basketball?" "Yes, we had a hot game, and I tore my suit all to pieces. I wish you would mend it, please, before Monday night. We are going to have practice games all next week." "All right," said Mabel absently. Then as she remembered her task she said firmly, "I forgot; I can't mend your suit. Mend it yourself." "Why, what ails you anyhow?" asked Frank wonderingly. "I can't sew, and I hate to ask mamma, she is always so busy. Why can't you mend it for me, Mabe?" "Something else I want to do," said Mabel coolly. "Well, I say you are a selfish pig!" retorted Frank. "Don't you let mamma hear you talk to me like that!" said Mabel. "You know what you would get." "It's what you are anyhow, and I will get even with you if you don't come across." Frank flung this threat at his sister as they entered their modest home. Mabel, flushed and rather uncomfortable, went into the sitting-room where her mother greeted her with a smile. She asked about the meeting, but made no comment when she heard Mabel telling Frank that she did not intend to go to church. "What are you going to do?" he demanded. "Stay in bed and have your breakfast brought up and loaf all day?" "I may," replied Mabel boldly. "If you do, you are a pill!" said Frank hotly. "Mamma, don't you let him talk to me like that," appealed Mabel. "Fight your own battles, my dear," said Mrs. Brewster. "If you are not able to compel politeness from your brother and others I feel sure that it is your own fault, and there is no use in someone else demanding it for you. Besides," said Mrs. Brewster, yawning rather openly, "I am tired fussing over you children. I have about decided to go into business." "Mummy!" cried Frank in a horrified tone. "_Mam_-ma!" wailed Mabel. "Exactly! I am thinking of going into interior decorating now that you children are old enough to look out for yourselves. I have spent a good share of my life looking after you, and now I think I will do something that I have always wanted to do." There was a long silence. Coming on the heels of her own plan, Mabel listened in amazement. Frank, however, went to his mother and sat down on the arm of her chair. There was a break in his boyish voice when he spoke. "Mummy, I don't like it," he said. "Are we out of money, or anything like that?" "Oh, no, not at all!" said Mrs. Brewster easily. "I just thought it would be fun." "I don't like it," repeated Frank in a hurt tone and, kissing his mother, he left the room and went whistling upstairs. Mrs. Brewster chuckled. "Frank always whistles when he is cross," she said, looking at her daughter as though she would appreciate the joke. But Mabel did not smile. "I don't blame him at all," she said stiffly. "Dear me! What a tempest in a tea-pot!" said Mrs. Brewster. "Here are a lot of stockings belonging to you that need mending. I am going upstairs to read," and she too left the room, calling back, "Be sure to put out the lights." Mabel, quite stupefied with surprise, sat thinking awhile, then she snapped off the lights, thinking as she did so that it was her mother's usual custom to put the room in order before she left it for the night. But Mabel did not intend to do it. So she left the chairs standing every which way with papers and magazines scattered over the table and her mother's sewing trailing on the floor. Reaching her own pretty room, she put on a comfortable kimono, arranged the light so she could read in bed, and from under a box divan dug out a paper-covered novel. She read the title with satisfaction, _Lady Ermintrude's Lover_, or _The Phantom of Marston's Marsh_. She curled up against the pillows, laying a copy of _Longfellow's Complete Poems_ close beside her as a quick, safe substitute in case of interruption. Then before opening her book, she gave herself up to her thoughts, planning a luxurious and detailed campaign of self-indulgence. She smiled as she thought of the little Captain. It was a good joke on her, because Mabel was shrewd enough to realize that Mrs. Horton was trying to show her that happiness, true happiness, lay in doing for others. Mabel, with the Captain's authority behind her, prepared to fulfill all her dreams. How this was going to strike her mother Mabel could not guess, but her mother was showing a strange, new and unforeseen side. She was glad, and hoped her mother would be so busy with her own plans that she would fail to notice her daughter's actions. Presently Mabel buried herself in the trashy novel and with many thrills over the foolish and impossible adventures of the Lady Ermintrude forgot everything but her book. While she was thus employed, Mrs. Brewster, sitting on the foot of her son's bed, her feet curled under her, was deep in a whispered conversation which made both of them giggle like a pair of mischievous children rather than mother and son. "All right, mummy," agreed Frank finally. "I am game, but I know Mabe will be awfully mad at me." "Just go ahead and do as I tell you," said Mrs. Brewster, planting a kiss on her son's rumpled hair. "It will all come out right and I will help you when things get too deep." She went off to bed, and Frank, grinning with pleased anticipation, was almost asleep before the door closed. In the morning force of habit woke Mabel, and remembering the breakfast table to be set, she hopped out of bed and started for her morning bath. Then she quickly hopped again, this time back into bed. Presently her mother looked in. "Time to get up, Mabel dear," she said cheerily. "You will be late." "I don't believe I want to get up this morning," answered Mabel uncertainly, and waited for her mother to retort, "Oh, yes, you do! Come and help with the breakfast!" but instead she said: "All right, my dear; suit yourself," and went off to call Frank. Somehow Mabel did not care to sleep after that, and lay listening to the sounds and smells from below. She did not guess that the lower doors had been purposely left open in order to let the odors from her favorite dishes ascend. But on the rare occasions when her mother had let her sleep over, there had always been a dainty meal left in the warming oven, so Mabel snuggled down and fixed her already strained and tired eyes on the poor print in _Lady Ermintrude_. Her mother and Frank went off to church without disturbing her, and as the front door closed with the click that told her that the latch was down, Mabel closed her book, hurried out of bed, and wrapping her kimono around her, went downstairs to explore. She found nothing! The warming oven was empty; the tables in the kitchen and dining-room were so empty that they looked lonesome. She looked in the ice-chest. There was nothing cooked. In the sink there was a pan of potatoes peeled and in cold water; on top of the warming oven a pan of bread pudding, looking very queer and doughy, was ready for baking. There were some chops. Nothing more. Mabel commenced to feel abused. She went back to her room, and once more followed along on the trail of Lady Ermintrude. After a long while the telephone rang. Mabel went down and heard her mother's voice. "We decided to have a little spree, dear," she said. "We are going to take dinner down town at Sherr's. Hop on the car and join us; we will wait for you." "Where are you now?" asked Mabel joyfully. She loved an occasional meal at the bright pleasant restaurant where everything was always so deliciously cooked and carefully served. "Here at Sherr's, and you must hurry; it is past one o'clock now." "Why, I am not even dressed yet," wailed Mabel. "Oh, I am sorry," said Mrs. Brewster. "I don't believe we had better wait. You know it always takes you an hour to dress. Better luck next time, dearie! There are chops in the ice-box, and the potatoes and pudding are ready to cook, and there are some canned peas. You can fix a good dinner, and we will be home before long. Perhaps if you have time you had better pick up the sitting-room. I didn't feel in the mood for it this morning. It is an awful mess. Don't bother if you don't want to, however. Good-bye!" Mabel hung up the receiver with an angry frown. Nothing was going right; nothing was starting as she had intended it. She dressed slowly, and ate bread and butter and sugar for dinner. The milkman had forgotten to leave the milk. She drank water. And she did _not_ pick up the sitting-room. Later, her mother and brother failing to appear, she went out for a walk. When she returned at half past five, she met her truant family descending from a big touring car. Some friends had picked them up and had taken them for a long ride. Mrs. Brewster noted the bread crumbs on the kitchen table and the open sugar bowl. She smiled. Later they all sat down to a delicious hot supper, and Mabel cheered up enough to listen politely at least to the accounts of their dinner and ride that had followed. But when according to her orders, Mabel went to writing the account of the day in her notebook, it did not sound interesting at all! The next afternoon when Mabel came from school, having been detained half an hour on account of inattention, she found Frank busy mending the tears in his basketball suit by the simple method of drawing them up in a tight pucker. "Where is mother?" demanded Mabel. "Dunno," said Frank, squinting at his work. "Well, I wonder where she is," said Mabel. "Rosanna Horton asked me to come over to supper tonight, and I want to wear that new dress mother is making for me. She said she would have it done today." She went into her mother's little sewing-room, and came back looking disappointed. "It isn't finished at all!" she said. "I don't see where mother can be!" "Fix it yourself," suggested Frank, stabbing his needle into the jersey. "I can't," said Mabel. "Mother always does it. Besides," she added as an afterthought, "I hate sewing." As she spoke, her mother came in with a cheery greeting for her children. Before Mabel had a chance to ask her mother about the dress, Mrs. Brewster said, "Mabel, I want you to get supper for Frank tonight, and be here when the laundress comes for her pay. I have been asked to take dinner with a woman from New York City who is an interior decorator of note." "I can't, mamma, Rosanna Horton has asked me over there, and I told her I would come," said Mabel peevishly. "Well, tell her you won't be among those present," said Frank, chewing off his thread. "But I told her I would come, and I am going," said Mabel, stubbornly. "I bet you won't if mamma says not," retorted Frank. His mother caught his eye and shook her head. "Someone will have to stay home and see the laundress, and Frank has his basketball practice. It is a great chance for me, so I wish you would stay, Mabel," she said. "I don't see how I can!" objected Mabel. "I told Rosanna I would come and I reckon I had better go. You can go some other time, can't you, mamma?" "I suppose I can," said Mrs. Brewster, and left the room. Mabel glanced at her brother and noting his scowl, commenced to read a magazine. She was perfectly miserable. When it came time to dress, she donned her old frock, wondering why her mother had laid the new one, still unfinished, across her bed. Mabel loved to go to the Hortons. But for once the dinner was not a success. All the conversation seemed to hinge on anecdotes of unselfishness and generosity. Mabel thought of Frank working on his gym suit because she wouldn't mend it for him, but she thought most of her mother giving up her dinner to sit at home and wait for the laundress. Her mother was too kind to make the poor colored woman come again for her money. Mrs. Brewster knew that she needed it. Mabel, sitting with unwonted primness and silence at the Horton table, thought harder and harder and could not enjoy herself. And Mrs. Horton, the little Scout Captain, saw and smiled to herself a sly, quiet smile that scarcely disturbed her dimples. She wondered curiously what sort of a report Mabel would bring her. CHAPTER III We will leave Mabel embarked on her desperate career of utter selfishness and return to Claire Maslin. When Rosanna and Helen and pretty Elise went to call on her they found her rooms had been marvelously changed from the stiff appearance of hotel suites by the gorgeous draperies and scarfs and table covers placed wherever they could possibly be put. A faint, sweet, oriental odor seemed to come from them, and the soft-stepping Chinaman who ushered them in seemed to be part of a dream. Claire looked modern enough, however, in her kilted skirt of big green plaid, soft silk shirtwaist and dull green sweater. Her face was as impassive as ever, but she seemed to think that as hostess something more than silence was required of her, and she talked in a very friendly and entertaining manner. Elise, always thoughtful of little courtesies, asked almost at once if they might meet Madame, her mother, and the girls were filled with pity when Claire replied that her mother was an invalid and was away at a sanitarium. It was clear that Claire in her silent, repressed way felt her mother's illness very deeply. She changed the subject at once. Little by little, however, the girls gleaned the bare facts of her life. She had been born in the Philippines, and had traveled from post to post and from country to country with her parents until the time of her mother's illness. There was a gap in her story there, but later she went with her father, the Colonel. Her own maid, who took charge of the house when they had one, was a serious looking New England woman about sixty years old. The Chinaman too went with them everywhere. "We expect to move tomorrow," said Claire. "Papa has found a nice house way up on Third Street. It is furnished, so we will not have to unpack our things." "You look unpacked now," said Helen, glancing at the gorgeous silks and cushions that were scattered around. "Oh, no, we just take a trunk full of these with us so wherever we stop the rooms will seem like home to us. Papa and I both hate hotel rooms. They all look alike with their stuffy furniture and dreadful curtains. It does not take Chang long to fix everything and we are much more comfortable. I think we will like the new house." Then she added rather shyly, "I hope you will all come to see me very, very often. Papa wants me to know all of you. I don't like girls very well." The three girls stared in amazement. She didn't like _girls_! And she was willing to tell them so! Elise lifted her eyebrows. It was so rude. Helen Culver laughed. "Why do you bother with us if you do not like us?" she demanded. Claire was blushing. "I should not have said that," she confessed bluntly. "I don't mean to say what I think. You must excuse me for saying it." "And we will forgive you for having such a heart for us," said Elise, smiling. "I know how you will feel soon. At least for these two dear ones. You will love them so much." "It is such a beautiful day," said Rosanna, to change the conversation, "why can't we all take a ride? Perhaps you would like to see our parks." "I have seen everything," said Claire wearily. "I have done nothing but ride ever since we came to Louisville. But every afternoon I drive up to Camp Taylor to get papa and it is now almost time to go. Won't you all come with me? I do truly want you to, and papa wants so much to meet you. Papa likes girls," she added with a smile. "I think we should love to go," said Rosanna heartily. She wanted to accept the first invitation that Claire gave, so she spoke quickly and nodded gaily to the girls. But it was a nod that they understood to mean "We will go." They were accustomed to the guiding nods of the wise little Rosanna. Gliding smoothly along the beautiful roads in the luxurious limousine, the four girls chatted gaily. And returning, the talk and laughter was even more spirited for they found Colonel Maslin to be all that one could dream of or hope for in the way of a jolly, handsome father. Nothing would do but they must return to the hotel for afternoon tea, and Colonel Maslin's idea of tea was ordering all the goodies to be found on the menu card, and then a few more that the head waiter managed to think up. So it was a regular feast. Then the Colonel and Claire insisted on driving them home, and Colonel Maslin went in and was introduced to each of their families. The girls only waited for the big Maslin car to be well on its way when with one accord they hurried over to Rosanna's. "Well, what do you think?" demanded Helen. "Claire's father, is he not most splendid?" asked Elise with a deep sigh of appreciation. "Yes, he is!" agreed Rosanna. "But Claire is the oddest girl that I ever saw. Did you notice how she sits and looks in one direction as though she did not hear a word you were saying? And her eyes look perfectly desperate!" "She doesn't hear much that you say, at that," said Helen. "I watched her. She has taken a great fancy to you, Rosanna." "Dear me!" said Rosanna. "I almost wish she wouldn't! Whenever I look at her or think about her, it seems as though a cloud pressed down on me and choked me." "Don't you like her?" asked Helen. "Yes, in a way I do, but there is something so strange about her, and I can't help the feeling that some way she is going to have an influence on my life." "Don't let her," said Helen calmly. "Do some influencing yourself. I never let anyone influence me that way. Why, you will be awfully uncomfortable if you feel as though that girl with her red hair and green eyes could turn you from your purpose in any way. Don't you let her! I am surprised at you, Rosanna!" "I don't mean it in that way," said Rosanna. "She will not change me, Helen dear, but in some way or other--Oh, I can't tell what _I do_ mean!" "Too many tarts!" laughed Helen. "I confess she is a queer girl, but we don't have to see much of her, and I doubt if we will. We have enough work coming along this spring without taking on any more than we have to. I want to earn all the merits and emblems that I possibly can by summer time, and I shall be a busy girl if I do it. And you want to do a lot of Scout work, Elise, now that you have learned to speak English so nicely." "_Merci_--I mean, thank you," said Elise. "Indeed I do much want to do something to benefit myself, and more to please our dear Captain. And somehow I think you are both seeing that strange Claire wrongly. I think the cloud hangs over her, and she is most, most sad, most gloomy in its shadow." "Dear me, how mysterious!" said Helen. "To me, she seems just like any other girl, except that she has gorgeous clothes and those queer green eyes, and such wads and wads of hair, and that Chinaman, and all those splendid embroideries. And of course it is odd the way she sits and never moves her hands but looks over your head as though there was some writing on the wall." "Perhaps there is," said Rosanna. "Like that man in the Bible, you know, who had a warning." Rosanna, as she spoke, little dreamed that there _was_ writing on every wall, in every cloud, that poor Claire saw and read with a feeling of hopeless horror. Leaning close to his handsome daughter in the big luxurious limousine, Colonel Maslin was saying to her, "Well, Bird o' Paradise, how do you like your new friends? Are they as friendly and fascinating as Kentucky girls are supposed to be?" "You met them," said Claire evenly. "What do you think?" "A mere man isn't supposed to think," laughed Colonel Maslin. "They seem delightful to me, so pretty and dainty and girlish. Stray sunbeams." Claire laughed. "I should say you thought quite fully on the subject, daddy!" "Well, they are all that I say, are they not?" asked the Colonel. "Oh, yes!" and Claire leaned indifferently away from her father's shoulder. He glanced at her and sighed. They entered the hotel in silence, each one busy with somber thoughts, and as the Chinaman closed the door behind them Claire suddenly flung her gloves on the table with a gesture of impatience and turning to the Colonel said passionately: "Father, look at me! Am I like those other girls? Do I look like them or act like them or talk like them? Is my heart like theirs? Oh, father, do you suppose they ever have the fits of awful temper that I have, or do the wild things I like to do? Just look at me, father! I am thirteen years old, and I feel thirty. Why do you make me have anything to do with them--those girls, I mean? We won't be friends, ever. It will be just like it has always been on other Posts where you have been stationed. You always want me to make friends with girls. And I hate them! And sooner or later they find it out and they are shocked. I wish I could shock them worse than I do! I'd like to scream and dance and pull my hair at them!" "Steady, Claire, steady!" said Colonel Maslin in a quiet level voice. He tried to take his daughter's hands but she jerked away. "Don't!" she exclaimed harshly. "Oh, father, can't you _see_ how it is? Can't you _see_ that they never, never like me? They look at my red hair, and they stare at Chang, and snub Nancy because they think that is the way to treat my maid, and they like the candy you always bring me, but we are never _friends_. Oh, I hate them all: every one of them! Sunbeams you call them. Well, I feel like a streak of lightning, and I would like to _strike_ them!" She beat her slender hands together violently, and crossing the room flung herself down on a divan and covered her eyes. Her father, white faced and stern, followed her and seated himself on the edge of the divan, although Claire lay rigid and tried to crowd him off. Colonel Maslin was silent for a time, and when he spoke his voice was very sad. "This is my fault, my child," he said. "When your mother was taken ill and could not be with us, I could not face the loneliness of having you away from me. Both your aunts insisted that I was wrong, but I wanted you for comfort, my darling, so I took you with me. Later, when I should have sent you to a good boarding-school, I did not have the courage. You are old for your age, I confess it, yet in many ways you are a spoiled and undisciplined child, my dear. You make it very hard for me, for I need you and you fail me. Now I am going to ask one more favor of you. After that, after you have honestly tried to do what I ask you, we will consider the subject closed for all time and you will go away to school." "You know I hate that worst of all!" cried Claire, lifting a stained and tearful face. "_Nothing_ but girls at school! Oh, father, why can't you let me do what I want to do, just amuse myself my own way, when I am not studying? You know I work hard at my books and music, and I don't _want_ any friends. Girls are so curious, they always want to know things, and I am so afraid they will find out--" "Our misfortune is not a disgrace, Claire," said her father in a voice that shook in spite of his efforts to keep it steady. "And I want you to have friends." "Claller for Mlissie Claire," said Chang, coming silently from the telephone. "Another of them!" groaned Claire, sitting up. "Tell her I must be excused." "No," said Colonel Maslin sternly. "You promised to do what I asked, and I want to see you begin now--today. If after three months of honest effort you still take no pleasure in the society of these girls, I will give up the struggle and arrange your life in some different way. Come, Claire, do, _do_ try! You have given me your promise. A Maslin never breaks his word and I hold you to yours." Claire looked up wearily. "Very well, father, I will really try. Who is it, Chang?" "Mlieeis Blooster," said Chang in his pleasant sing-song voice. "Oh, yes, I know that girl," said Claire. "She is a queer one. Ask her to come up, Chang." Mabel, rather flustered over her adventure into the unknown mysteries of the big hotel, entered sedately and seated herself in the deepest and most comfortable chair that she could choose. For once Claire had to lead the conversation, as Mabel spoke but little and seemed to expect her hostess to do the talking. Colonel Maslin, thinking that his presence might keep the girls from getting on an easier footing, excused himself, and in a few minutes sent up from the office a huge box of candy. Mabel did brighten at this and stayed long after the proper length of a first call, while she ate candy and told her troubles, both real and imaginary, to her bored hostess. She finally told her of the task the Captain had set for her. And at last Claire was interested. She listened intently as Mabel droned on about her experiences. "I don't think parents really understand their children," said Mabel, carefully choosing a large chocolate cream. "Of course it may be different with you, but my mother certainly does not understand me at all. I am naturally very sensitive and love to read and dream, and I never get well into a book without her reminding me of something horrid and domestic that has to be done. I know I could write beautifully if I had time to collect my thoughts. And now that Captain Horton expects me to lead my own life regardless of others for a whole week, though of course part of the time has gone, I thought I could write some truly beautiful things. But nothing goes right. Of course mother does not know that Captain Horton told me to try this and she never notices any change in me, but she acts too queer for anything. She goes out all the time, and doesn't do any sewing for us (I have a brother) and last night she was talking about a _career_! My brother ought to stop her, but he just backs her right up." "It is too bad," sympathized Claire, passing the candy. "My father doesn't understand--" "I think a parent's place is in the home," Mabel interrupted. She was not at all interested in Claire or her father. Like all selfish people, she talked for the pleasure of hearing herself. "But mother has changed. I suspect it is old age. She will be thirty-five her next birthday. I have three more days for my experiment, and then if I cannot live my own life at home I shall ask mother to arrange something different. I have always wanted to be a bachelor girl. I read a story about one. She wrote for the papers and made enormous sums and had a _sweet_ apartment, and was so happy because she felt her soul was free. My, I must go! It is nearly supper time, and I think mother is going to have Parker House rolls. I adore them. I had no idea I had stayed so long, but you are so entertaining and it is so nice to think we feel alike about leading our own lives our own way, and all that." Claire murmured a faint good-bye after her departing guest and flopped heavily down on the divan where she had so recently thrown herself in tears. She lay staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. A hazy question flitted through her mind. "Am I like that?" she asked herself. Then she laughed and dismissed the silly idea. "What a dreadful girl!" she concluded. "Too dreadful! And father wants me to bother with people like that!" CHAPTER IV Having met Colonel Maslin in the hotel lobby, Mabel found herself riding home in the beautiful Maslin limousine. She sat exactly in the center of the softly cushioned seat and stared haughtily at the passersby. She inclined her head a trifle in condescending acknowledgment of the traffic police who waved them on as they turned from Broadway into Third Street. Mabel was sorry that he did not seem to notice her. He lived three doors from Mabel on the side street and it seemed a pity not to impress him, especially as he was forever bringing home the Brewster dog when he ran away without his tag. But luck was with Mabel when the big car rolled noiselessly up to the curb before her home, for her mother was standing at the window, and her brother and three other boys were having a last confab before separating for the night. Mabel crossed the sidewalk and went up the steps in her most stately manner. She did not notice the boys at all. "Well," said her mother as she entered the house, "did you get a ride home? How do you like the Maslin girl? "She is a rare soul," said Mabel. Then descending to earth, "I wish you could see the rooms they live in. You never _did_ see such lovely things. And she has a maid, and a Chinese house-servant, and her father is a perfect dear and sent us up a big box of candy." "A rare soul, is she?" said Mrs. Brewster. "How do you mean?" "Oh, I can't explain," said Mabel. "She is so understanding, and we seemed to think and feel just alike on so many subjects. I expect to see a great deal of her. We have so much in common." "Does she object to dusting and making beds and things of that sort?" asked Mrs. Brewster in a mild tone. "I don't know," said Mabel, flushing. "Ummm," said Mrs. Brewster. To Mabel the smile was maddening,--infuriating. "I don't see why you take it like that," she burst out harshly. "Just because I have a mind above the average and want to live my own life and set my soul free! I am reading every little while about some girl who does it. But I never get a chance. Nothing for _me_ but school and practice and that old dusting and helping around the house!" Mrs. Brewster sat down and looked quizzically at her excited elder child. She was in no hurry to break the silence, while Mabel stared out of the window and drummed on the pane with nervous finger tips. Finally she said gently, "Just what do you think you would like to do?" "Oh, I want to break away, and have a chance to expand! I feel choked the way things go now. I read about one girl about my age who left home and took an apartment and lived her own life. It was wonderful. She went to work too, and made lots and lots of money." "Lucky girl," said Mrs. Brewster. "What a help she must have been to her family! Oh, I forgot; the trick was that she _didn't_ help her family at all, did she? Was she a rare soul too?" Mabel registered what she fondly hoped was a look of scorn. She did not speak, and after a moment Mrs. Brewster continued: "What was her chosen field of endeavor? In other words, what job did she get?" "She became a newspaper woman," said Mabel. "But what did she do in the meantime? What did she do while she was learning to do newspaper work? Didn't you say she was a girl about your age?" Mabel answered patiently. "She became a newspaper writer at once," she said. "Don't you see, mamma, that is just the point? She went away from all the worries of her own home, where she never had time to think things out for herself, and it gave her a chance to _expand_. While she was at home her time was so broken." "I see," said Mrs. Brewster. "I suppose her cruel parents expected her to dust and wash dishes and mend her clothes and practice, and all that. It was a great pity. I suppose there are a great many parents like that--so thoughtless." "Indeed there are!" said Mabel with feeling. For the moment, hearing her mother agree with her, she forgot to whom she was talking. "If mothers and fathers only could understand that girls want to be _free_, that they want to expand and be themselves, everything would be different." "I don't doubt it at all," said Mrs. Brewster. She left the room and Mabel continued the train of pleasant thought. She made no move to help about supper, and Mrs. Brewster did not call her. Remembering that the girl she had read about was accustomed to sit at her piano and compose most beautiful melodies whenever she was disturbed or wanted to soothe herself, Mabel went to the piano and, putting a firm foot on the forbidden loud pedal, broke into what she fondly told herself were crashing chords palpitating with the suppressed passion of her breaking heart. The sounds thrilled her, and she continued until interrupted by a roar from Frank who was doing his algebra at the kitchen table. "Aw, Mabe, have a heart and quit that noise, will you?" he begged. His rudeness broke the spell. Mabel rose and started to sweep haughtily toward the stairs. She would retire to the sanctuary of her own room and brood! But before she reached the door she heard her mother call, "Supper is ready!" Mabel did not hesitate. She remembered the Parker House rolls and hurried into the dining-room. The rolls were there, and it was well worth postponing a "brood" for them. Mrs. Brewster was unusually silent and Frank watched her anxiously until, catching her eye, she nodded and flashed a quick look toward her abstracted daughter. At the close of the meal Mabel said with what sounded to Frank perilously like kindly meant condescension, "That was a delicious little supper, mamma," and receiving a meek but fervent, "Thank you so much, dear," from her mother Mabel went straightway to her own room and closed the door between herself and her unappreciative family. The sound of that door was a signal for Frank to explode. But Mrs. Brewster laid a soft hand over his rebellious mouth. "Softly, softly, dear!" she begged. "I want you to be as patient as you can. If _you_ were on the wrong path somehow or other, you would be glad to be turned back where there was safer going, wouldn't you? Well, Mabel must work this thing out for her own good. You and I cannot tell how she will come out of it, because after all her soul is her own, and she knows it better than we do. But we have faith in her, sonny dear, don't forget that, and we believe she is a dear daughter and sister, who really loves us with all her heart." "Yah, she acts it!" scoffed Frank, the unbeliever. "Give her time, dear," said Mrs. Brewster. "Please be patient. I am going to do some telephoning now, and if you hurry with your algebra and finish that history lesson, we will go to the movies. There is a good play at the Strand tonight." "I can do that all right," said Frank, and after his mother had gone to the telephone he rushed the dishes out into the kitchen, stacked them neatly, and was buried in his book when his mother returned, a look of amusement rather mixed with worry on her pleasant, wholesome face. The result of the telephone talk was an astounding offer from Mrs. Brewster to meet Mabel when that young lady left school next day. Mrs. Brewster was waiting for her daughter at the door of the High School, and as they started slowly down the street, Mrs. Brewster said, "You know the girl you were telling me about last night? I mean the one who broke away and lived by herself and freed her soul and all that?" Mabel nodded. Was her mother going to lecture her? "I don't want to stand in your light, Mabel, and some day suffer all kinds of remorse when I remember that I was the one who held you back just because I am old-fashioned and happen to think that home is the place for a young girl to grow up in, a place where she can have her mother's care and guidance and all that. No, I just can't do it! I want to give you a good start if you still feel that you want to take it. Something came up today that looked exactly like what you wanted, and I snatched at the chance. At least until you decide. Of course I could not decide for you." "What is it?" asked Mabel cautiously. "It seems quite wonderful," said Mrs. Brewster. "You know that ducky little apartment the Kents have right under Grandmother Brewster's? They are going away for the next six months, and want someone to live there and take care of it." "And we are going to live there?" cried Mabel delightedly. "Oh, I am so glad! I am so sick of our house, it is so out of date, mamma, and on such a side street! What will you do--shut it up or rent it?" "Don't go so fast, Mabel. You say yourself you can't expand your soul when Frank and I are around. I should think not! We will live just where we are, and if you like _you_ can have the flat all to yourself. I was there this morning. There is the sweetest kitchenette, with everything in it, and the dearest living-room and dining-room combined and, Mabel, _wait_ until you see the bed-room! It will be a lot to keep clean. I certainly was lucky this morning. Just as I was coming home I met Marian Gere, who does society for the _Times-Leader_, and she is looking for an assistant, and simply snapped at the chance of having your help. I said you could help her after school hours until the end of this term, and after that you could give all your time, because I did not feel that I could ask any girl to stay in school who was as talented as you feel you are. And she said I was very sensible to let you try your wings. _Try your wings._ Don't you think that a sweet expression? I remembered it because I thought perhaps you could use it in your writing some time." Mrs. Brewster paused for breath. Mabel was looking rather wild-eyed. Things seemed to be happening rather rapidly. Was it possible that all her cherished dreams were to be realized, and at once? Her mother had the key to the little playhouse apartment, the owner having departed, and Mabel looked it over and over with actual cold chills of delight coursing down her spine. "I wouldn't tell Grandmother Brewster for a while about being here," suggested Mrs. Brewster. "She might think you needed looking after," and Mabel agreed. "When will you come over?" "Oh, today!" cried Mabel. "And I think I will go down right now and see Miss Gere." "Very well, and I will go home and pack a few things for you. I think I would just take a hand-bag now, and later you will know exactly what you will need. There is not much closet space in the apartment. And of course Frank and I will hope to see you occasionally. But we will understand if you don't come home often, because you will be working pretty hard to earn your living, even with such a good start. It is lucky that you can get this lovely place to live in rent free. Later I suppose you will not care what you have to pay, but now it will be a help. And you will find that groceries are pretty high." Mrs. Brewster nodded a gay good-bye as the car approached, and left Mabel walking down Third Street on her way to the _Times-Leader_. A few blocks on her way she overtook Jane and Estella arm in arm as usual. Mabel gave her braid a flirt and unconsciously puffed out her chest. "Where away, Mabel?" chirruped little Estella, twinkling. In a rush of words Mabel told her tale while the girls listened in speechless amazement. "You don't mean to say that you have really _left home_?" demanded Estella. There was no chirp in her voice now, no twinkle in her face. She looked absolutely shocked. "I leave tonight," said Mabel, "soon as I settle my salary with Miss Gere. I am _wild_ to be free! It is going to be wonderful, perfectly wonderful! I expect to write something grand. Just think, no one to disturb me; no housework, no practicing! Oh, how my mind will soar!" "Are you going to keep a maid?" asked Jane feebly. "You said no housework." "Well, it won't be like the housework at home," declared Mabel. "That is the dustiest old place! It won't take me a minute to put everything in order at my apartment." "But your mother!" almost wailed Estella. "How can you leave your mother? I can't bear to leave mine for all day even." "Mothers are different," said Mabel sadly. "Mamma is sweet, of course, but she does not understand me. We are better apart; I feel it." "Well, of all things!" said Jane slowly. "I am glad _my_ soul doesn't have to have things done for it. I don't remember much of the time that I have one, and you couldn't _hire_ me to leave home." "You don't understand," said Mabel loftily. "One must do what seems right to one's own self. I am doing that, and I shall be rewarded. Come and see me sometimes, girls. I shall be very busy, but never too busy to receive my old Girl Scout friends." She nodded, and struck into a quicker pace which carried her ahead of the two girls. "Well, I think that is perfectly awful, don't you, Jane?" demanded little Estella, looking at the broad, retreating back. "Simply dreadful!" murmured Jane, shocked and wondering. "What do you suppose has got into Mabel? Do you suppose it is possible that her mother is actually letting her do it, or is she running away or something awful?" "Oh, Jane, do you remember what the Captain told her to do at the last meeting? Oh, oh, what _will_ the Captain say when she hears about this? She will feel awfully. Why, she never, never meant Mabel to actually leave her mother and go off and do dreadful things! I don't see how Mabel can bear it! And it will make our little Captain feel awfully!" "Says she is going to live all alone, and work on the newspaper. Just like being an orphan. Get her own meals and everything. I couldn't stand it," said Jane. They stared after the distant figure. They did not approve. "But, of course," said Estella suddenly, "we must not be too hard on Mabel. You know she writes real poetry. Perhaps that is what ails her. We mustn't forget that." "No," said Jane pityingly, "we mustn't forget _that_." CHAPTER V Mabel, hunting for Miss Gere in the big newspaper building, nearly died of fright. Some repairs were being made, and the office force was huddled into a space about half large enough for it up on the fourth floor. When Mabel finally reached the room, she was told that Miss Gere was out but that she might wait at her desk. The desk was a small, disorderly table littered with papers swarming over, around and under a battered typewriter. She sat down and looked about. Young men, unattractive, harried looking young men with steely eyes hurried in, dropped down before tables just like Miss Gere's, pounded furiously on typewriters, or consulted earnestly with a tall, thin man in shirt sleeves, who glared ferociously at their papers from the safe shadow of his green eye-shade. To Mabel, watching with all her might, this tall thin man seemed to be the only one who was not in a hurry. He listened to everyone, sometimes to three or four at a time, answered questions, sent instructions down a telephone that Mabel rightly guessed connected with the printing rooms far below and seemed perfectly capable, as indeed he was, of keeping a thousand different lines of action going at once. Mabel wondered who he was. He was the City Editor, and already he knew about Mabel and had judged her with one of the lightning glances hidden under the shade. The room was overheated, and Mabel, waiting as patiently as she could, commenced to grow drowsy. In a half dream, she saw herself entering the magic railing which surrounded the tall man's desk. _She_ did not lean hectically over the rail and talk rapidly from the outside as did the young men reporters. No, Mabel, grown tall and slender and surpassingly beautiful, walked _into_ the charmed circle, greeting her chief with a slow, faint smile. Then opening her hand-bag, and drawing off her gloves while she lazily watched the great man through her long drooping lashes, she proceeded to present a sheaf of papers written over closely in her fine neat hand. The lines of her beautiful rajah silk sport suit clung to her lovely figure as she modestly drew the chief's attention to some particular statement. Stubby Mabel, in her plain, serviceable school dress, sitting unnoticed at Miss Gere's table, was thrilled at the sight of herself! As the dream-Mabel finished her interview with the City Editor and rose, she said in response to his enthusiastic praise of her work, "Thanks so much!" The real Mabel was frozen with horror to hear herself actually speak the words! For a moment she assured herself that she had imagined that too, but a wild-looking, oldish man banging furiously on the typewriter on the next table turned and stared at her and said, "Huh?" in an absent-minded way. "Nothing, sir," said Mabel in a flustered voice, not at all the voice of the dream-Mabel who had wholly disappeared. The real Mabel sat very still and red until Miss Gere came in. Miss Gere was not at all what Mabel thought a Society Editor should be. The lady slouched in, a fedora hat pulled low over her eyes giving her very much the general appearance of the City Editor. A long, full ulster hung uncertainly from her thin shoulders, and its deep pockets bulged with scrap paper. Her beautiful, delicate hands were quite grubby on the knuckles. When she entered, she smiled a brilliant, transforming smile that seemed to embrace everyone in the room. All the hurried young men felt it and beamed in return; the City Editor turned his green eye-shade in her direction, and the frantic typist beside Mabel stopped long enough to flap a thin paw in her direction. She threaded her way slowly across the room, shaking her head as Mabel rose and offered her the chair she was occupying, and sat down in another. She pushed back her hat. "You are prompt," she said. "I didn't expect you would come today, though your mother said you would. She says you are very anxious for a newspaper career. Well, you must be willing to do a good deal of hard work." She turned first one and then the other grubby hand over and studied her perfectly kept nails. Mabel, fascinated, watched her every movement. "I told your mother it was dollars to doughnuts that you wouldn't stick it out a month, but she seems to think you will. Of course if you have actually gone to the length of leaving home and all that, why, you _must_ be in earnest. Do you know anything at all about reporting?" "A little," said Mabel. "I have reported for the _High School Clarion_." A smile flitted across Miss Gere's thin, eager face. She did not seem as deeply impressed as she might have been. Mabel hastened on. "I write a good deal by myself," she said. "I can bring you some poems and sketches that I have done." "It won't be necessary," said Miss Gere hastily, "although I am sure they are well worth reading. I will start you on something easy. You are to be my assistant, you know. All these men around here are reporters too, and that big man is our City Editor. Bring what you write to me because he doesn't want to know that you are on earth. I have a full day tomorrow and you may cover the business meeting at the Red Cross Rooms, and then you may call up the women on this list, and ask them to give you some details about the entertainments they are giving. Bring in a nice little story about all this, and I will give you further directions when I see you. You may call some of these ladies up tonight. Use all sorts of tact." She passed a slip of paper to Mabel bearing a typewritten list of well-known names. Mabel took it, and guessing from Miss Gere's preoccupied manner that the interview was at an end reluctantly passed out. Reaching the street, she dropped the humble air that she had worn in the office and, feeling like a conqueror, turned toward her new home. Her thoughts were all of Miss Gere. How gloriously, fascinatingly thin she was! Mabel unfastened her coat. Perhaps she would look thinner if her coat flopped. Then she heard her name called. A big car was crawling along the curb, and from the limousine Claire Maslin and Rosanna Horton called her name again. The car stopped and in response to a word from his young mistress the Chinaman stepped down and opened the door. "Let us take you home," said Claire in her deep, drawling voice. Mabel entered and seated herself, smiling. "I have just been down making arrangements to begin my newspaper career," she said. "I think every young writer should spend a certain time on newspaper work. It is such good practice, and one learns so much about Life." "Dear me!" said Rosanna. "What do you mean, Mabel? Is your mother going to let you do newspaper reporting?" "She is perfectly willing for me to do whatever I feel I ought to do," said Mabel loftily. "Mother and I have had a good talk, and I find she is a great deal broader than I feared she would be. The fact is I have left home and have started on a career. I have a charming little box of a place where you must look me up." "Splendid!" said Claire, clapping her gloved hands lightly. "I shall tell my father, and see what he says. I am always begging him to let me go away and live my life as I want to live it." "But, Mabel!" gasped Rosanna in horror. "You can't do anything like that. You are only a little girl! You _can't_ go off and live by yourself. Why, you just can't! And, besides, you know the loyalty and service a Girl Scout owes to her mother. I don't see how you can _think_ of such a thing. I am sure you must be joking." Mabel's face flushed deeply. "You don't understand at all, Rosanna," she said stiffly. "What might be right for one is not right for another. You know the Captain herself told me to live for myself alone and see how it would work out, and it is working out wonderfully. I shall report Saturday night at the meeting that it is a great success." "Oh, dear, _dear_!" cried Rosanna. "I know she did not mean to have anything like this happen. Oh, Mabel, you _must_ go back home!" "I think she is right," said Claire. "Certainly I am right," Mabel declared. "My apartment is around the next corner, Claire, number 112, if you will drop me there." The girls were quite silent as Mabel indicated the apartment house and said good-bye, asking them both to come to see her. As they drove off, Claire was smiling and Rosanna was very grave. "I wonder how she will come out," said Claire, as they turned toward Rosanna's house. "It is perfectly _awful_!" exclaimed Rosanna. "She says the Captain told her to," said Claire. "I know she never meant her to go so far," wailed Rosanna. "Well, I shall tell her when I go home, and she will know what to do. Cita never makes a mistake." "Cita?" said Claire. "That is Spanish." "Yes," said Rosanna, smiling. "When she married my Uncle Robert she seemed so tiny and so dimply and young to be married to anyone that I told her that I meant to call her Cita. Why, I couldn't say _Aunt_! And she _is_ Cita. She is dear. That is what it means." "I know," said Claire. "She is a dear, I can agree with you there. I like her as well as I ever like anyone." "Don't you _love_ your friends?" asked Rosanna wistfully. This strange green-eyed girl, so cold and so reserved, made her feel sad. "I have no friends," replied Claire indifferently. "Well, you will make a lot of friends here in Louisville," Rosanna assured her, smiling. "No," said Claire. The car stopped before Rosanna's house. "Oh, yes!" insisted Rosanna as she stood at the curb. "You see you will want friends when you grow up. Every girl does." "Not I," said Claire, shaking her head. "I shall need no friends. Indeed I shall _want_ no friends at the place I am going to when I grow up." She dropped back against the cushions as though she was suddenly very tired and Rosanna, forgetting to move, watched the luxurious car bear its beautiful young owner away. "Oh, dear!" sighed Rosanna finally, and with dragging feet went into the house to find Cita. But she was out, and Rosanna, puzzled and distressed, went to her own pleasant room, and curling up on a big divan tried to solve the new Scout's mysterious words. She forgot all about Miss Brewster, who at that moment, also curled up on a divan in her new apartment, had just happened to think that she was growing hungry and would have to get her own supper. She hurried out to the ice-chest and found it empty with the exception of three large, violent looking green pickles on a plate. Mabel bit one. It was very, very sour. Grabbing her pocketbook, she hurried down to the nearest grocery and bought a loaf of bread, a pound of butter, some cold boiled ham, a glass of orange marmalade and a package of shredded wheat. With these packages in hand, she retraced her steps, the almost empty pocketbook swinging from her hand. Supper was queer and not very cheerful, but Mabel knew that she would find it strange at first and the thought that part of her work lay before her that very night kept her spirits up. She had her telephoning to do. She did not wash the cup and plate, but left them on the table to do in the morning. She was on her way to the telephone when the ringing of the bell made her jump. She seized the receiver. Mrs. Horton, the Scout Captain, was speaking. "I have just heard the news, Mabel," she said pleasantly. "Isn't it wonderful? And you are really going to try out my experiment? It is wonderful to be able to live for yourself alone, isn't it? Nearly always we have duties that hold us back, and I know you are too good a Scout to disregard any of yours, but of course your mother has Frank, and he is _so_ devoted to her that it really leaves you free. She says he always helps her as though he was a girl. I called you up to suggest that as long as you are making such a real test that it would be well to postpone the report you were going to bring to the meeting." "I think so too," Mabel agreed hastily. "I know it will be a success, and if I can prove that girls are able to do for themselves, without having to do all sorts of other things like practicing and helping, at the same time, it will be a great thing for girls. Don't you think so?" "I do indeed," Mrs. Horton assured her. "And just _think_ what it will mean for mothers! They will be so free. As it is now, your mother, for instance, feels as though she ought to look after you and see that you have good clothes to wear to school and good food to eat, and she wants to fix a pretty room for you, and because you are studying and practicing she does a lot of darning for you and all that sort of thing, and probably she makes most of your dresses because they cost so much to buy these hard times. "Why, by the time she has done all this, and has looked after you when you are ill, she has no time for herself. I called your mother up to get your address, and she seemed so pleased with everything. She said with Frank to help her, she was going to be able to do so much that she has been wanting to do ever since you were a baby. She and Frank are going to the theatre tonight, and tomorrow she is going to begin designing for that big firm on Fourth Street. I suppose she told you about it?" she added. "No, she didn't," said Mabel, rather embarrassed to hear in this way of her own mother's plans. "We were so busy today that we didn't get time to say much." "Well, I am glad to be able to tell you good news," said the little Captain cheerily. "It will be so much off your mind to be able to go to sleep tonight and be sure that things are working out right. I think you are so brave, Mabel. I never would have the courage to do what you are doing, even though I am quite grown up. And you are really only a little girl in years." "But I feel old in experience," sighed Mabel. She thought she heard a soft giggle at the other end of the wire, but at once Mrs. Horton coughed rather loudly and Mabel knew she was mistaken. "That makes such a difference," said the Captain. "For my part, I am a _perfect goose_. I would be so lonesome and afraid there where you are, and I would rather do any amount of mending and dishes rather than go down and work in a stuffy newspaper office and beg a lot of women for items about their silly affairs. Yes, you are really very brave. You must call me once in awhile and let me know how you are progressing. And you need not come to the Scout meetings for awhile if you are busy. I will excuse you. I will explain to the girls just what you are doing to help them all. Good-night! Oh, your mother said for me to tell you good-night for her too as she was rushing off to the theatre, so there are two good-nights for you, Mabel dear. Good luck, and I hope you will find time to ask me over to tea with you some afternoon." "Indeed I will!" said Mabel. "Good-night!" She turned from the receiver. Suddenly she felt very small and young, and the pretty rooms were stiller than the rooms at home somehow. The subject for a poem flashed into her mind. And quick as a wink she made up the first verse "Alone, alone, the world before me. What is this I leave behind? Happiness and heat and mother; All to train my wondrous mind." Somehow _heat_ did not sound very poetical, but the apartment was certainly freezing cold. CHAPTER VI While eating a not too satisfactory supper on the corner of the kitchen table, Mabel was blissfully unaware of the fact that her venture into the world was being discussed at two dinner tables at least. Rosanna, filled with misgivings, had repeated all that Mabel had said and she was distressed to see that Uncle Bob regarded it as a good joke, while his wife, the little Scout Captain, was convinced that the outcome would be exactly what she desired. And when Rosanna asked what that was, she laughed and said, "Wait and see." Claire Maslin, telling her father about it, was met with shouts of laughter. "The girl is crazy!" he merely said. "That fat little Brewster girl that ate so much candy here the other day? She will be sick of her bargain soon." "I would like it myself," said Claire sullenly. "She can do exactly as she pleases. I wish _I_ could." "My poor little girl," said Colonel Maslin, "that is all in the world that ails you! I can run a regiment, but I don't seem able to run one girl. I wish you would try to see, my dear, that you are a lucky, very lucky young person, and act accordingly." "_Lucky?_" said Claire bitterly. "You call _me_ lucky? Oh, it is not your fault, daddy! I am as sorry for you as I am for myself, but it is so funny to hear you use that word." "Well, I call _myself_ lucky," said Colonel Maslin, staring at the flowers that decorated the table. "Do you? Why?" demanded Claire, her lip curling. She too stared at the flowers. She would not look at her father. "I have your dear mother and I have you," he said after a long pause. "I _am_ a comfort to you, I am sure," she said in low, tense tone, "and mother must be a comfort too. You would be glad if we both--" "Stop!" said Colonel Maslin sharply. "You remember you are never to speak unkindly of your poor mother. You are wrong, all wrong, and I would give my right hand if I could set you right, if I could make you understand what is honestly in my heart. When you are older you will perhaps understand." "When I am older!" cried Claire. "When I am older--" She sat staring at her father, rigid and pale, then suddenly all her self-control deserted her. She leaned forward, burst into a storm of sobs, and pounded furiously on the table. Her voice tore out in a shrill scream. "When I am older--_you_ know what I will be then!" she panted, and her sobs rose higher. With a muttered exclamation Colonel Maslin rose from the table, dashed to his daughter's side, lifted her in his arms, and as though she was still a little child he carried her to her room and laid her struggling and writhing, on her bed. Her maid entered hurriedly. "Take care of her," he begged, and left the room. An hour later he sat in little Mrs. Horton's own sitting-room and talked while she watched him with eyes made soft by unshed tears of sympathy. "It is the first time I have asked for help," he said brokenly after awhile, and she sighed to see the gallant soldier bowed by grief. "But I have pinned my hope on the Girl Scouts, and now that I know you, on you. Save my little girl for me, dear lady, save her for her mother's sake! I need Claire so! And her coldness, her wild fits of temper, and her gloomy black moods are so unlike the sunny little tot she used to be that there are times when it seems as though I could never bear it. Is it always to be so, Mrs. Horton?" "No!" cried the tiny Captain in quite a fierce voice. "_No indeed!_ Something shall be done to help you. Claire has just made a wrong start, and her terrible sorrow, instead of making her more loving and more tender, has made her cold and hard. Don't worry, Colonel Maslin. Something shall be done." Colonel Maslin shook his head. "I have about given up hope," he said sadly. "These fits of excitement are growing on her. At first I thought that they were plain temper, but it is not possible. Why, Claire is in her teens, and her whole life has been a lesson in self-control! Our Chinaman is a living sermon on it. And she has been guarded against anything nerve racking or exciting or disagreeable." "Let me think it over for a little," said Mrs. Horton, wrinkling her smooth brow. "I will find some way of reaching the poor child, I am sure. It may take a little time. Urge her to come to the Girl Scout meetings and I will watch her." "You are more than good," and the Colonel bowed over the tiny hand that had met his in a firm, comforting grip. She shook her head and said, "The Scouts themselves, one of them or all, will do it, I feel positive. That is one thing the Order is for, you know; to help one another." "I trust you," said Colonel Maslin. "Treat her as though nothing has happened this evening," suggested Mrs. Horton. "I shall not see her again tonight. By the time I reach home (I shall have to drive up to Camp from here) she will be asleep. In the morning nothing will be said. Claire will simply be a little more sullen and aloof." "Be of good cheer," smiled the little Captain, and Colonel Maslin went on his lonely and sorrowful way wondering if the little lady could really find a way to help his poor child. In her own soft, luxurious bed, Claire was lying spent and shaken by the storm she had just passed through. She tried to recall the talk at the dinner table, but in her dazed condition she could not remember anything that should have started such a dreadful scene. As she recalled her own actions, the cries and sobs, the tears and wild words, she shuddered. Each time she gave way like that seemed to be worse than the last. And Claire was proud. It shamed her to have her own father see her acting so, yet some dreadful Something within her seemed to make her explode in that way once in awhile. And the times were growing closer and closer. No matter what happened, even the greatest pleasures that her father planned for her filled her with a sort of hard anger. She hated everything and everybody. All she wanted was to be let alone, and then she read book after book until she was dull and dizzy. Then came long, sleepy rides in the limousine over smooth, uneventful roads. When at length her maid brought her a glass of hot milk, she did not know that there was a sleeping powder in it, but sleep came quickly and mercifully and she did not waken until late the following morning. A note was on the chair by her bedside, just the usual affectionate greeting from her father, a pretty little custom of his whenever he was obliged to leave before she was awake. No matter how hurried, he always took time to write a line or two before he left. Any other girl would have been so proud and pleased with his unfailing tenderness and attention, but Claire wrapped herself round with coldness and accepted all he did for her without even the thanks she would have offered to a stranger. She even hesitated to read the short, loving note. It bored her, she told herself. But she opened it idly and skimmed the words that told her that she must spend an easy day because he had planned a little surprise for Rosanna and Mabel and herself. Claire lifted her eyebrows. She had forgotten to tell her father that Mabel bored her to death. Rosanna was not quite so bad; in fact, she really liked the pretty, dark-eyed girl who seemed so warm-hearted and so sincere. Then with scarcely a thought of curiosity as to the nature of the surprise, she touched the bell that summoned the maid with her breakfast, and idly picking up a copy of the Handbook for Girl Scouts, commenced to read. "A Girl Scout is loyal," she read, "to the President, to her country, and to her officers; to her father, to her mother--" Claire stopped there, at least something stopped her. She read the words repeatedly, "Loyal to her father." What was loyalty anyway? She read on: "She remains true to them through thick and thin. In the face of the greatest difficulties and calamities, her loyalty must remain untarnished." Claire frowned. _She_ was faced with terrific difficulties, while a frightful calamity, like a black cloud, darkened all her future. What did loyalty to her father mean in her case? She read on: "A Girl Scout is cheerful under all circumstances." Claire thought of her wild ravings the night before, and frowned. She skipped down the page to a short paragraph that her eyes seemed unable to avoid. "Kipling in _Kim_ says that there are two kinds of women,--one kind that builds men up, and the other that pulls men down; and there is no doubt as to where a Girl Scout should stand." Now Claire in her most selfish moods could not blind herself to the fact that her violent scenes were always followed by days of deep mournfulness on the part of her father. Lines appeared in his handsome face and his hair seemed to grow grayer. Was she pulling her father down? She refused to answer the question, and flirted the pages over to escape that part. She scanned the qualifications for the three grades of Girl Scouts. She was only a Second-Class Scout, and she knew that she was a poor one at that. She had been too indolent to try for the First Class. She read the necessary qualifications over. She could not set a table for any meal, and she could not sew. She had never tried to walk a mile in twenty minutes, and as for dressing or bathing a child, Claire wondered where she could borrow one to try on. She could not pass the First Aid or the International alphabet exam. She could not train a Tenderfoot; at least it was too much trouble, and while she could name ten trees, ten wild flowers, ten wild animals and ten wild birds, they were all Chinese. She could swim; oh, _how_ she could swim! A thrill of joy shook her as she thought of past hours spent in soft tropic waters. As for fifty cents in bank earned by herself, that was so funny that Claire laughed aloud. She could not imagine earning _five_ cents, let alone fifty. That brought her thoughts around to Mabel Brewster, and Claire saw her in a new light. There was a lucky girl even if she _was_ silly and conceited. She believed in herself and had gone off alone to fight the world, with all her banners flying. Yet there was that loyalty law cropping up again. What if Mabel _could_ write as splendidly as she said, wasn't her place really at home with her mother and brother? Claire was sure the Brewsters were not rich, and in that case Mrs. Brewster certainly needed help. Loyalty; always loyalty! A new and disturbing thought flashed over Claire. Perhaps she owed her own mother some loyalty too, even though she was away in a sanitarium. Wasn't it loyalty to her to keep her troubled, lonely and unhappy father "built up" so far as it lay in her power? Claire closed the little offending blue book and flung it across the room and when her maid entered she was lying petulantly with her head on her arm, her glorious red hair streaming over her like a glittering veil. The little book, so helpful and so uplifting, had not helped Claire at all. But that was because in her heart she did not want to be helped. She had lived for herself so long in her queer, cold, brooding fashion that the thought of anything different actually hurt her just as it hurts to stand on one's foot when it is asleep. Claire had held one position of thought for so long that it made her hurt and sting and prickle even to think of moving. So she buried her face in her arm and hid under her shining red hair and studied her queer jade ring and tried to forget the feeling that she might be in the wrong. Mabel Brewster's awakening was even more disagreeable, although she really deserved it less. She was not accustomed to pickles and cold ham and cheese for supper, as Mrs. Brewster was a careful mother. Also Mabel, to celebrate her great step, had found a light novel, and snapping on a perfectly fascinating reading light at the head of her bed, had proceeded to read until after one o'clock. Then she dreamed! She dreamed that she tried to get out of bed and couldn't because there was a sour green pickle as large as a street car right in the way, and the City Editor sat on top and looked at her from under his green shade and told her that the only way that she could get out was by eating her way through the pickle. So she commenced, while all the society ladies in Louisville looked on and said, "Dear me, isn't it wonderful what a girl can accomplish if she will only leave home, and _live for herself_?" And the pickle was so sour that it made Mabel shudder with cold and she shuddered herself awake, to find all the bed-clothes on the floor. She got up and made the bed over, and found it was only three o'clock, although she had been hours and hours trying to eat that frightful pickle. The bed was too soft or too hard or something, and she could not get to sleep again for a long while. She was glad to waken again and find that it was morning. Unfortunately, after all the adventures of the night Mabel had over-slept and was obliged to start off to school without breakfast and with her hair ribbon badly tied. Also there was no time to put the apartment in order, and Mabel was rather shocked to find how badly one person could tumble things up. She half hoped her mother would run around during the morning and put things in shape, but when she unlocked her door at one o'clock, when school was over for the day, she found her bed still unmade, her clothes tumbling out of the suitcase, and the soiled dishes on the kitchen table. She had cold boiled ham for luncheon, and but little of that because just as she commenced to eat, a telephone call interrupted her. It was Miss Gere asking how soon she would be down with her items and to take up some other work. The items were not written up, and Mabel had to give up her luncheon time to writing them. There was no time to tidy up, and Mabel hurried down town hoping now with all her heart and soul that her mother would not get time to use the duplicate key that Mabel had insisted on her taking. She felt her cheeks burn as she thought of her mother seeing the mess and cleaning it up in her kind way. Mabel had no cause to worry. When her mother dropped in about four o'clock she merely looked the place over, then sat down and laughed in the strangest manner. Then she carefully went out without disturbing anything, and took a covered basket into the apartment below where she talked for awhile with Mabel's grandmother, who laughed too; laughed hard and long, and who then said mysteriously, "Well, thank you for the rolls, my dear! I think they will do me more good than they would Mabel. And I think I shall not be 'at home' for the next week or so." Mabel did not get home until six o'clock. She had forgotten to stop at the market, so she had only shredded wheat and milk and pickle for supper. She ate shredded wheat and milk. It was a modern apartment with thin walls. Somebody was having chops and baked apples for supper, and a few minutes later there was a smell of fried chicken. Mabel helped herself to another shredded wheat biscuit. CHAPTER VII A week passed. In one corner of the _Times-Leader_ office there was an old-fashioned letter-press. You put the letters between two iron plates and slowly turned a bar that pressed a lever that squeezed the plates together tighter and tighter. A grimy office boy was forever grinding, and as Mabel had many a long wait for her chief, Miss Gere, she commenced to be fascinated by the operation. Her vivid imagination commenced to trouble her. She saw her hand, her arm, her whole self being pressed flat by that dreadful boy. The boy, by the way, being about Mabel's age and totally unconscious of his grubby appearance, noticed Mabel's fascinated stare and accepted it as a personal compliment. He turned the press with a grand flourish and squeezed it close with a darkly frowning brow as though to call attention to his strength. Life, after being so eagerly called, was beginning to squeeze Mabel a little. Saturday noon found her half ill for food, as she had spent her small allowance almost at once and had had to live on the faithful box of shredded wheat biscuit and the milk for which she did not have to pay the milkman until the first of the month. After luncheon, consisting of a nut sundae which took all her remaining change, she spent a few moments peering in at the vegetables and chickens displayed in a grocer's window. She did not see Miss Gere pass. When Mabel returned to the office, Miss Gere sent her up Fourth Street to study the delicatessens and bread shops. It was agony. Mabel had never seen such delicious articles of food, had never dreamed of such penetrating and tantalizing odors. Mabel wondered if she could ever stand it until six o'clock when she would be paid. She jotted down her notes and, wending her way back to the office, settled down in a corner to put her material in shape. It did not take long, and while she waited for Miss Gere who was almost always out, she reviewed the experiences that had beset her during the past few days. Of them all this day had been the worst. And Mabel, who had fondly expected to have most of her Saturdays to herself, reflected that after six o'clock she would have to take her hungry and weary self back to the apartment and attempt to clean things up. The dainty rooms looked as though a whirlwind had struck them. Poor Mabel was not wholly to blame. She was carrying too great a load. She had school to think of, and as soon as she was released at noon she was obliged to rush off to the dusty office for her orders for the rest of the day. She never reached home again until six and later, and on several occasions she had been obliged to accompany Miss Gere on long tiresome night trips by automobile or trolley into the surrounding country. Of her mother she had seen but little. Twice her mother had called while she was out with Miss Gere, and Mabel, not knowing that this had been by arrangement between Mrs. Brewster and Miss Gere, was honestly disappointed. Several times she had met her mother down town, and once they had had luncheon together at a cafeteria. On these occasions Mabel was forced to notice that her mother, whom she had rather looked down on as a common or garden variety of parent, was really a most attractive and charming woman. She treated Mabel not at all like a little girl, spoke only of the surface things that interested Mrs. Brewster herself and lightly passed over all Mabel's wistful references to home and Frank. Mrs. Brewster did say that they missed Mabel and added with a rather sad smile that she had never thought to lose her little daughter and so on. Mabel felt herself saddened by these meetings. She found that she was thinking of her mother all the time, and sometimes she almost wished that she was just an ordinary girl and not a genius, so she could stay at home and be taken care of. When the second Sunday came Mabel permitted herself the luxury of a good cry. She was too stubborn to confess that she was desperately sick of her foolishness and wholly and utterly homesick, but angrily dried her tears and started to dress. The telephone rang. It was Mrs. Brewster. She sent a cheery good-morning over the wire and asked if Mabel had had breakfast. Mabel hopefully said no, that she was just commencing to dress. "Why, we are all through!" laughed Mrs. Brewster. "We are getting an early start, because the Morrissons have asked us to drive to Lexington with them. They wanted to ask you too, but I told them that you were always too taken up with your other affairs and your writing to accept any invitations and they were so disappointed." "Who is going?" asked Mabel. "Just the two Morrisson boys and Frank and myself." The two Morrisson boys were quite the most popular young fellows in Louisville and Mabel saw, with a sense of defeat, that her biggest social chance had slipped from her grasp. Her mother went cheerily on: "So Frank and I got up early and fixed our share of the luncheon, and prepared and ate our own breakfast, and now we are all ready." Mabel was furious. It was on her tongue's end to tell her mother that of course she would be glad to go, but her stubbornness held her back, so she said a brief and snippy good-bye and hung up the receiver. But she did not leave the phone. A moment later she gave central Mrs. Morrisson's number, and flushed rather foolishly as she heard Mrs. Morrisson call hello. "I want to thank you for having thought to ask me on your ride today Mrs. Morrisson," she said smoothly, in her best manner. "I was just talking to mother, and she told me about it." Mabel stopped here and listened eagerly for Mrs. Morrisson to renew the coveted invitation. But alas, poor Mabel! "We were all sorry that you could not go," said Mrs. Morrisson in a sweet voice that you would never think could deal a blow to a girl's hopes. "And it is almost going to spoil the day for your mother, I know. She is always so happy when you are with her, my dear." "It is dear of you all to want me," said Mabel, "and perhaps I can arrange things so I can go after all." "Oh, my dear," exclaimed Mrs. Morrisson in a most distressed voice, "that is too awful! You see we never thought you would think of it, so I asked another girl, a new girl the boys have met in dancing school. She is a Girl Scout and your mother thought it was just the thing to do." Mabel swallowed hard. "Well, I am sure she will have a good time," she replied in a thin voice. "Is she a girl I know?" "Her name is Claire Maslin," said Mrs. Morrisson, "and I think she is really charming." "I know her," said Mabel briefly and with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. She was glad when the conversation came to an end, and rushing back to her tumbled bed, she threw herself down and wept loudly and long. When finally she found that she could cry no more she dragged on her dress anyhow and went out to look in the tiny ice-chest. She knew what it contained. There was the usual ready-to-eat cereal and milk for her breakfast, and two discouraged looking pieces of cold boiled ham, her unfailing standby, on a saucer; but she had neglected to do any shopping the day before in the rush of necessary tasks, and there was nothing else to eat. For all day! Sunday! And mother and Frank were off on a glorious picnic! Once more Mabel wept. She set the cereal back and went wearily into the living-room. The bell rang, but Mabel did not care who it was; she did not want to see anyone. She heard a rush of feet on the stairs, and the door knob was shaken violently as her brother Frank called through the crack: "Hey, Mabe, let me in a second! Hurry up! Here's something for you!" Mabel rushed to the door and let him in. He had a large box in his hand. "Hello, sis!" he roared cheerfully. "Here's a box mother sent you. She is down in the car, but I told her not to come upstairs. I don't want her to get tired. She sent you some dinner. It's good, I can tell you! Helped to fix it myself. She thought it would be a change from the swell eats you must be buying yourself. Just notice the chicken salad. And she said for you to--but there is a note inside. Sorry you can't come! Strange girl going, and I don't like 'em. Nuisance to get acquainted. Why, what's wrong, Mabe?" he asked as he looked at her for the first time and noticed her tear stained face. "Gosh, what's wrong? Are you sick? Shall I call mother?" He put an awkward but loving arm around his sister, but she shoved him violently away. "Nothing's wrong!" she jerked out, her lips trembling in spite of her. "Go along, and don't mind me!" She fairly pushed him toward the door and Frank, dazed and astonished, allowed himself to be hurried into the small hallway. There he faced her. "Why don't you get some common sense into your head?" he asked savagely. "I think it's a crime your coming here and trying to live by yourself! I am ashamed to have the fellows know about it. They think it is awfully queer. Fellows like to look after their sisters. It isn't right! I don't care if you _are_ a smart kid! You can be just as smart over home as you can here. You don't seem to think of mother at all. You don't care how _she_ feels. She would skin me if she knew I was saying this to you, but I'll say you are the most selfish girl I ever knew and that's the truth! Well, go ahead! We don't care; we can rustle along without you!" He started for the stairs and flung this over his shoulder: "But I bet you will be sorry some day!" He hurried out of sight as a shrill whistle sounded from the street where the Morrisson boys fretted in the waiting car. Mabel picked up the box and carried it into the kitchen. Then for the third time that day she rushed into her bed-room, fell on the long-suffering bed and cried; cried tears of mingled rage and disappointment. She could not understand why Frank's ravings, as she called his outburst, should make her feel so strangely mean and small and in the wrong when she positively _knew_ that she was on the right track. But you cannot live principally on cold boiled ham, olives and shredded wheat day in and out, you cannot leave a comfy, homey sort of home even for the luxury of a modern apartment without a pang of homesickness hitting you sooner or later, and Mabel was pierced with it. And you can't have good reason for tears three times in one morning without losing a little of your courage, at least for the time being. Mabel thought of the jolly party motoring along the level roads, all laughing over the sallies of the older Morrisson boy. She could almost see Claire Maslin in her lovely green motor coat and close hat set tight over the shining red hair. Mabel burrowed her wet face deeper in the moist pillow. Her sobs rose. "Oh, oh, I wish I was home!" she whispered finally, and then, like the martyr that she felt herself, she sat up, wiped her eyes, and wondered what was in the box her mother had sent over. Things to eat, Mabel reflected, as she opened parcel after parcel and found that a whole Sunday dinner was hers. She put it in the ice-box and wearily started to clear up the dusty and untidy rooms. The sink was full of dishes, and as soon as the water was hot in the boiler, she attacked the piles of plates and cereal dishes. By the time they were washed and dried and put away and the rooms swept and dusted, Mabel was too tired to think of getting herself any dinner, even though it was waiting for her in the box her mother had sent over. So she curled up in a corner of the divan and tried to read. She could not interest herself in her novel, and at last she sat staring moodily at the room, studying its complicated and fussy furnishings and comparing them with the simple, quiet arrangement of her mother's house. Mabel had had occasion to see a number of homes during the time she had worked with Miss Gere and it was dawning on Miss Mabel that there was a certain charm and beauty about her mother's simple and unpretentious arrangements that were sadly lacking in many of the most luxurious places. She had never thought of this until a woman who stood very high in the social world of Louisville had asked her if she was related to the Mrs. Brewster who was doing interior decorating. Mabel flushed with embarrassment and said in a small voice that Mrs. Brewster was her mother. "How fortunate you are!" said the great lady. "Your mother is the most artistic person I have ever known. She is perfectly wonderful and will certainly make a fortune. I am trying to get her to go to New York where she can have a studio and command top prices. I don't see why she did not go into this years and years ago." Mabel, almost too surprised to reply, managed to mumble that she supposed her mother had been pretty busy bringing up her brother Frank and herself. "Well, I suppose she feels that she is really free now," said the lady with a smile, "since you are starting out for yourself. Although," she added, "I think your mother is very brave to let you start out of the nest so soon. You seem such a young girl to be off by yourself. Of course it is not at all my affair, but I should think that you would hate to be away from such a talented mother as yours." As Mabel recalled this conversation, she saw her mother in a new light and somehow the new light blazed almost too strongly on Mabel herself. She felt strangely small. She had this disagreeable dwindling sensation more and more as she compared her mother with other women in professional and business and social circles, the three great groups that made their influence strongly felt throughout the city. Mabel found too that her Great Experiment, instead of bringing her the envy and admiration of her mates, seemed in some strange way to make her the object of a kind of scorn that was very hard to bear. The very girls who had applauded her most loudly at first showed her in unmistakable small ways that she was doing something foolish instead of something brave and grand. But Mabel would not give in. She was not brave enough. It was an endless Sunday. She did not go to church, no one came to see her, and she would not go for her usual afternoon walk. Several times she started for the phone, intending to call Rosanna or Helen, then decided against it. Finally she took up the long neglected Girl Scout Manual and read steadily as far as the page that had caught Claire's attention. "Loyalty." The word stood out black and threatening on the page. "Loyalty to father and mother." Was she loyal to her talented mother, the mother who had laid aside all her gifts in order to give all her time and strength to her two children? Wasn't it her place now to lighten some of her mother's household cares and make it possible for her to gain the reward she deserved? Mabel, like Claire, threw the book angrily away from her. But unlike Claire, she could not throw her thoughts away. She was very unhappy. CHAPTER VIII The following morning, however, Mabel was once more filled with her usual self-esteem. Before going to sleep she had written a poem which would have sounded more original if it had not been so very like several well-known bits of verse she had often read. But to Mabel it seemed to spring from her soul, and after reading it with tears of appreciation in her eyes, she decided to let the _Times-Leader_ have the privilege of printing it. That was to be a strange, terrible and eventful Monday. The Day of Overheard Conversations Mabel might have named it. There was nothing to warn her of the day's disagreeable outcome. It was one of Louisville's loveliest mornings, and there was enough left from her Sunday dinner to give her a good breakfast. She was up early enough to go over her lessons, and the apartment as she left it after Sunday's violent cleaning had a look of righteous order and dustlessness. Also, having read the poem a number of times, Mabel saw herself as the coming poetess and preened herself accordingly. One of the nicest girls in high school overtook Mabel and they walked to school together. It was in the cloak-room that Mabel received her first stab. The other stepped around the end of a cloak rack where she was met by a third girl whom Mabel knew but slightly. "Hello, Grace," she heard her say. "I stopped at your house but you had gone." "Yes, I walked to school with Mabel Brewster," replied Grace. "Well, how you can stand her _I_ don't know," said the other girl with a sniff. "Of all the stupid prigs she is the worst!" "Oh, I wouldn't say _that_," said Grace gently. "Well, _I_ would!" declared the other girl stubbornly. "She thinks she is a wonder and knows everything, when in fact she is stupid and conceited, and _no_ one likes her." Grace was a Girl Scout and this talk shocked her. She shook her head. "I don't think you are really right, Mary, and besides I don't think you ought to speak so." "It is true, just the same," said the girl stubbornly. "You know yourself what her marks are--just as low as she can stand and pass. And that way she has of smiling in such a superior way when anyone else misses. And when _she_ misses she always has such a good excuse! I do wonder why the teachers stand for it!" A group of laughing and chattering girls came into the cloak-room and Mabel seized the opportunity to slip into the hall and into the class-room. Her face burned. Of course she told herself that the girl was jealous, but Mabel was one of those persons who require the approval and admiration of those about her in order to be happy. She did such poor work that morning that she was obliged to stay after school, although she knew that she ought to be at the office. She took her books to a desk in the reference library where she was soon lost in her work. Presently she heard the low voices of a couple of teachers. They came and seated themselves on the other side of a big blackboard just behind Mabel. "Oh, dear," sighed one of them, "this weather makes me long for vacation." "The last weeks of school are always a drag," answered the other. "And I think the children feel it as much as we teachers. Even my brightest pupils are letting down, and the marks have all fallen off." "Even Mabel Brewster's marks?" queried Miss Jones with a sniff. "What a goose that girl is!" said Miss Hannibal. "I don't know what does ail her." "An inflated ego," said Miss Jones. "Novels and the New Woman Movement, I think," said Miss Hannibal. "It is a perfect shame. I feel _so_ sorry for her mother. Here this girl, as soon as she gets where she would naturally be of some service and comfort to her mother, steps gaily out of all her responsibilities and home duties and sets up a home of her own and goes around talking about a career. _Career_, indeed! Why, the child has nothing to career _on_! She did not inherit her mother's cleverness. If she was _my_ child, I would send her to her room and keep her there on bread and water until she came to her senses." "So would I," said Miss Jones, "but it is really none of our business, of course." "Well, in a way it is," answered Miss Hannibal testily. "You see she is doing very poor school work, and the Principal told me yesterday that he would probably have to drop her from her class at the end of the school year. And she _won't_ work, because she is so crazy over that silly newspaper job that she simply neglects everything else. I just _don't_ see what ails her mother!" "Does her mother know what poor work she is doing in school?" asked Miss Jones. "I don't know," said Miss Hannibal. "And I don't know what good it would do if she did. A girl who thinks as little of her mother as Mabel does would not care what she thought and would not listen to her advice. You may be sure that she has cost her mother many bitter tears already. _I_ shan't worry about her. She spoils my thoughts. I have wanted to ask you how the Morrisson boys are doing." Miss Jones proceeded to enthuse over the Morrissons, but for once their achievements did not interest Mabel at all. She was stunned and angry. Yet as she sat huddled motionless in her corner, waiting for the teachers to go, she soon recovered her balance, and reflected that they too were probably jealous. She thought fondly of her position on the newspaper and proudly dreamed her dream of the day when she would drift into the magic circle of the Chief Editor's desk as his best reporter. When Miss Hannibal and Miss Jones sauntered away, Mabel lost no time in making good her own escape. She crossed over to Third Street where the beautiful houses with their look of reserve and wealth always catered to her love of luxury. Ahead were three girls in Girl Scout uniforms. She recognized them at once: Rosanna Horton with her black docked hair, Claire Maslin's long swinging red braid and Elise Hargrave's bobbing curls. At first Mabel decided to walk slowly and avoid them but she changed her mind and caught up with them. "Do you still like the work you are doing?" asked Claire in her soft drawl. "I suppose so," said Mabel, and then as though forced into honesty, she added, "The trouble is, I miss mother and Frank so that I don't seem to do all the work I planned after all. It doesn't seem to be working out right. Of course I shall go on with it, because I really owe it to myself, but it isn't half the fun I thought it was going to be." "I knew it," said Elise Hargrave gently. "It is a most dreadful thing to be _torn_ from the home nest, and when one hops out by one's self and waves that not so strong wing one must of a necessity wish to be back." "Why don't you give up and go home?" said Rosanna. "You would be doing the wise thing." "No, I can't," said Mabel. "I suppose some day when I am famous, I will perhaps take mother and Frank to live with me." She laughed and nodded as she left the girls and hurried on to the _Times-Leader_ office. "She means it; she actually _means_ it!" said Rosanna in a hushed voice. "Of course she means it!" laughed Claire. "Isn't she funny? I never saw a girl so conceited in my life. And really she _isn't_ bright at all. She is just an ordinary girl with ordinary gifts. I think she is usually quite stupid when she talks, but perhaps that is because she is so awfully conceited that it bores you." "I hate to hear you say such things about her," said the tender-hearted Rosanna. When Mabel reached the office she went directly to the big shabby dictionary open on its stand, and looked up two words, _Inflated_, and _ego_. The result was not pleasing! She sat before the book, glooming over the unflattering result of her quest. So she had an "inflated ego," had she? As she sat there, the office boy, seeing her close to his letter-press and feeling himself capable of starting an acquaintance with any girl his own size, pulled his purple and gold necktie into place, seized a few sheets of paper, and sauntered up. Mabel continued to stare at the open page of the dictionary. "Kiddin' me," thought the boy to himself. He put the papers in place, and commenced to whistle, one careful eye on Mabel. He whistled so far off the key that she looked up. Instantly he grinned. "Great job, this!" he said cheerfully, twisting the lever with a vast show of effort. "I bet I work harder than any fellow in this office. I bet I work harder than the Chief himself." Mabel continued to look at him, but did not speak, and he continued, "Your name is Brewster; Mabel Brewster, isn't it? I saw it on some of the papers Miss Gere and the Chief threw in the waste basket. Say, what do you write such gobs of stuff for? They don't use it. Aren't you on to that yet? My name's Jesse Hart. Ain't that a peach of a name to give a fellow? Sounds like a sure-nuff girl's name--Jesse. And Hart means a deer. Fellows used to call me Jessie dear when I was a kid, but I knocked a couple of 'em out and they quit it." He grinned at Mabel more cheerfully than before. "Say, you don't wear yourself out talkin', do you, sis?" Mabel flushed with anger. A couple of the reporters saw the two and smiled playfully. "Jessie dear" winked back and Mabel flushed. "I don't want to talk to you," she said distinctly. "I wish you would go away." "Suits me!" said Jesse. "Suits me all right, Miss High-Mighty." He gave a short laugh with a close imitation of the manner of Dalton Duplex, his movie star villain, and strutted off. Mabel noted that the rims of his ears were very red. She dismissed him angrily from her thoughts and went over to Miss Gere's desk. The thin man pounded furiously on the next typewriter as usual, but he looked up as she passed him. "A new crush, Miss Mabel?" he asked mischievously. Mabel was too angry to answer; she rudely flounced into the chair and turned her burning face away. Surely, she thought, there _never_ was another girl who had so many things to annoy her. That silly boy! As though she would bother to look at him. The two immaculate Morrissons flashed through her mind. Such boys and their friends were well worth while. Then her mind turned to the remark about the waste basket. She wondered if her work was being thrown away. She knew that it was always rewritten, but she thought that was the rule of the office. Mabel had a lot to think of. The next morning Jesse proceeded to prove that he was a youth of grit and determination. He wore another necktie, and when he saw Mabel sitting at Miss Gere's desk he went over and grinned a cheerful good-morning. Mabel returned it glumly with a stony stare that would have quelled a less determined boy. "Say, how about a picnic Sunday afternoon?" he asked without noting the drop in temperature. "I thought we could ask your mother to chaperone us, and get your brother Frank, and a couple of other fellows and have supper at Jacobs' park. The chaps have a car and they know two dandy girls." "No," said Mabel decidedly. "It isn't possible for me to go. I am sure mother wouldn't go, nor Frank." She spoke so sneeringly that Jesse flushed. "That's where you guess again, Miss Highty-Mighty!" he said. "I saw Frank last night and he asked his mother, and she said _sure_, so I guess I just get another girl for little me, and you needn't think I don't know where to get off. I won't trouble you again, so don't you worry." He stalked off, leaving Mabel furious to think that Frank and her mother were going to go with that dreadful boy and his dreadful friends. She could just _see_ the sort they must be: the girls like a lot of the girls she knew in high school, giggly, silly, gum-chewing girls, with untidy ruffed-up hair pulled over their ears, and boys like Jesse. She sent a cautious glance after Jesse. After all there was nothing really the matter with him, except she just didn't like his neckties, and oh well, he wasn't a bit like the Morrissons, for instance, who always looked as though they had come out of a bandbox, and were so polite, and _such_ fun. That night going home. Mabel met Frank. He seemed to be always hanging around the corner nearest the _Times-Leader_ office when she came out at night and always walked home with her. "Jesse says you won't go on our picnic," Frank commenced at once. "Why, of course not!" said Mabel. "I am perfectly surprised to think that you and mother would mix with such people!" "Such people?" repeated Frank. "_What_ people?" "Why, the sort that Jesse boy must go around with. Of course I know how mother is. She would chaperone anyone who wanted her, but I should think _you_ would know enough to keep her out of it." "Well, I don't see how you figure it," said Frank sulkily. "I am going to take Helen Culver. She is all right, isn't she? And Jesse was going to take you, and I bet you think _you_ are all right, and Rosanna Horton and that Maslin girl are going with Jesse's cousins. Pretty good crowd, I take it." "Who are his cousins, for mercy sake?" demanded Mabel. "Don't you know?" asked Frank. "The Morrissons, of course! You know their father owns the _Times-Leader_." CHAPTER IX Leaving Mabel to recover as best she could from Frank's astounding announcement, we will look in on Rosanna listening, round eyed and breathless, to her Uncle Bob talking rapidly to his mother, his wife, and his little niece. "Oh, do you _really_ mean it?" Rosanna exclaimed at last. "Cross my heart, sweetness!" Uncle Bob assured her. "Cross my heart and black my eye, _hope_ to live and _haf_ to die!" Rosanna leaned back with a sigh of absolute delight. "I never dreamed anything so perfectly splendiferous," she murmured. "Wait until I tell the girls about it!" "That is the only disagreeable part, dear," said her uncle. "What I have told you is a great secret. In fact, no one but just our four selves must know a single thing about our plans until a week before we sail. I am sorry, because I know what fun it would be to talk over a trip around the world, but there are very important business reasons why it must be kept absolutely quiet." "All right, uncle, but that means we will have to talk it over twice as much ourselves. So tell it all over, please!" "Well," said Uncle Bob, not at all unwilling to talk, "John Culver's invention makes it possible to arrange our machinery in such a way that it is possible to use it under almost any and all conditions. It is changing the whole course of big institutions and vast enterprises will be affected by it. It is such a big thing that it must be laid before the heads of governments, and it has fallen to my lot to attend to this part of the business. So for the first trip I am going to start across the Atlantic, cut nearly straight across the continent, come home by Japan and Honolulu, _and_ you are all going with me!" "But how about school?" wailed Rosanna. "Oh, bother school!" said Uncle Bob, with an uncomfortable glance at Rosanna's grandmother. "What's school to us? We are going a-jaunting whether school keeps or not!" He laughed. "We will be off and away as soon as ever we can." "Hurray!" cried Rosanna, hopping up and down. "Oh, grandmother, will you really let us?" Her grandmother looked at her son, then at his wife. They both sparkled. "I think I shall have to," she said. "But, Rosanna, I don't know what is going to become of your education if these people keep on taking us with them wherever they go." "Oh, but grandmother dear, think of all the wonderful things I will see, and the languages I will hear, and the people, the queer dear people!" "I should say so!" said Mrs. Horton dryly. "And the _algebra_ you will miss! How wonderful it will be!" The next few days were so exciting that Rosanna could scarcely bear it. She was glad when Claire Maslin telephoned over to see if she would come and spend the week-end with her in the house her father had just taken. Both Mrs. Horton and Cita were glad to have Rosanna go, for she was so excited over the coming journey that she went wandering about the house like a restless spirit and could neither read, practice nor study. Claire was drifting into one of her black moods. The Colonel had learned that his wife had taken a turn for the worse, and had felt that he must tell Claire. She had heard it in stony silence, with dry eyes and compressed lips, her only comment being, "It is coming soon, isn't it, dad?" Then after a sleepless night and a bad day she asked Rosanna to come and stay with her, hoping that she could forget her horrors for awhile. But after a few hours spent with the gentle loving little Scout, she was conscious of quite a new sensation. For the first time in her life she wanted to confide all her troubles to someone; someone who would sympathize with her. She thought almost tenderly of her new friend. Rosanna's low and pleasant voice, soft friendly eyes, so deep and loving, her air of truth, all made poor Claire who had been so friendless and so cold feel that here at last was one whom she could trust; one to whom she could tell all her worries and troubles. But the caution which usually held her steady kept her from saying anything to Rosanna, even when a telegram was handed to her father at the dinner table; a telegram that deepened the lines in his face and caused him to glance apprehensively at Claire with a slight shake of the head. Claire felt the black cloud of horror closing down on her. She managed to finish the meal, letting her father and Rosanna do most of the talking. Then she excused herself and went to her room. She expected that her father would follow her and give her the news. Claire felt that it was something bad: but Rosanna came bounding up, calling cheerily as she came, "Hurry up, Claire! Get into your uniform; it is Scout night!" "I don't believe I will go to the meeting tonight," said Claire, but Rosanna exclaimed, "Oh, Claire dear, we don't want to miss it, do we? Besides, your father said specially that you were to go, and we are going to be late if we don't hurry, so he is going to drive us over in the car. Won't it be fun to go back to my own home from somewhere else to attend a meeting?" She slipped out of her little net dinner dress as she talked and into her crisp, clean uniform, and Claire found herself following Rosanna's example. When she stepped into the waiting car, her father murmured in her ear, "No change!" and she sighed with relief. It was a specially good meeting. Only one girl was absent, Mabel Brewster, and the Captain was careful to explain that that was at _her_ suggestion. After the business meeting and the usual reports and the giving of several badges of merit, the Captain said with a smile: "I have been in Washington nearly all the week, girls, as some of you know, and while there I had a very interesting Scout experience. I wanted to consult with one of the most prominent Scout Captains there, a lady named Mrs. Pain, the wife of a Washington artist. Well, I made arrangements to call at her house and as luck would have it, it was the night of a Scout meeting. Of course I was very glad to see how they conducted their meetings and all that. I found Mrs. Pain most charming, and her apartment quite delightful. "A blond angel of a baby about three years old was skipping around here and there. She was dressed in a complete Scout uniform and, girls, she looked _exactly_ like a big doll! I thought of course she was Mrs. Pain's child, and she is, but with a very interesting history. When I spoke to Mrs. Pain about the pretty little thing, Mrs. Pain smiled and gave me this paper. It is a copy of the Washington _Times_, and this is what it says: "MABEL, FIRST CIRCULATING BABY IN WORLD, IS ONLY THREE, BUT SHE'S SOME GIRL." "This little story will introduce Miss Mabel Pain, three years old, the youngest and tiniest Girl Scout in the world. Mabel lives right here in Washington, at the Graystone Apartments, and she is the mascot of Girl Scout Troop No. 3, composed of Graystone girls. "Although only three years of age, Mabel has had a varied and romantic career, and if the remainder of her life holds for her as much excitement as she has experienced during her baby years, she will be quite a wonder long before she grows gray-headed. Indeed, Mabel already is a little wonder, for she can swim, hike three miles without getting tired, say grace as solemnly as a bishop, recite her A B C's backward, repeat the Girl Scout oath of allegiance to the flag, say all of the ten Girl Scout laws, salute with the snap of a West Point cadet, and do many other things the average child of six or seven would have great difficulty in doing. "And all this is the more interesting because Mabel was once a little waif, without parents and without a home. Her origin remains a mystery, and little Mabel herself has no recollection of her mamma and papa. Mabel was discovered when the girls of Troop 3 decided that they wanted to adopt a baby, a real _live_ baby that would coo and cry and kick and laugh, and all that. It was a big job for a group of girls to adopt a baby as a substitute for their dollies--and their troop leader probably would have vetoed the whole fine plan had the little girls not pleaded with their mothers and fathers and persuaded them to approve the project. "So a search was made for a baby to adopt, and little Mabel eventually was found. All the little girls clapped their hands, and danced in glee. They had a baby, and they were so pleased. But the question arose: Now that the girls had the baby, what in the world were they going to do with it? And thus it was that Mabel became the world's first 'circulating baby,' for the girls decided that they would keep the baby successively for a couple of weeks at a time at their various homes, the mothers first giving their approval, of course. "So Mabel lived one week with Harriet's parents, another week at Pauline's home, and still another week at Mary's residence. She shifted from home to home just like a book in a circulating library. "Everywhere she went she was looked upon as a sort of toy or pet, to be played with and humored, and then passed on to someone else. "So it went until Mabel landed at the home of Mr. and Mrs. W. B. Pain of the Graystone Apartments. Mrs. Pain is Captain of Troop 3 and from the start she had taken a keen interest in the baby. Mr. Pain also fell in love with Mabel, and thus it came about that Mabel ceased to be a 'circulating baby,' for the Pains decided that they would like to keep her for good and all, and little Mabel was formally adopted. "The Pains are English people of culture and refinement, and as a result the little waif now has a wonderful home. Mr. Pain is an artist, and Mrs. Pain is a trained instructor of children and between the two, fate has made it possible for Mabel to develop into a very fine girl. "A girl cannot become a full-fledged member of the Scouts until she is ten years old and the girls under ten are formed into an organization known as the Brownies. But it wouldn't be safe for anyone to accuse Mabel of being a Brownie, for in her grown-up way she would immediately announce: 'I am not a Brownie at _all_! I am a regular Girl Scout!' "Mabel would be quite right in saying so. For although technically she is not a Scout, she attends all of the Scout meetings, goes on all the Scout hikes and does _whatever_ the rest of the Scouts do. She gets around the ten year age limit because of the fact that she is the mascot of the Troop. Mascots, you know, are always admitted, for most of them are cats and dogs and rabbits and birds--and they aren't supposed to know what's going on. But Mabel, you may be sure, knows everything that is taking place." As Captain Horton finished, the girls all laughed and clapped their hands. "Is it really true?" "Did you see her?" "Was she cunning?" "Tell us more about it!" were some of the clamored questions. "Yes, it is quite true, although it does sound like a fairy story. And I not only saw but heard her. Girls, I wish you could have heard that darling baby voice reciting our promise! She was so sweetly solemn about it. 'On my honor I will _twy_,' she said, and all the rest of it. Mrs. Pain says she does everything as nearly right as she can, because she is so proud of being a Girl Scout. And cunning? Indeed she was! Just imagine a funny, dimply, blonde Kewpie dressed in Scout uniform, and there you will have little Mabel Pain. I wish some of you could have seen her salute; it would have been a lesson to you. "I can't help thinking, girls, that the case of little Mabel is just an instance of the far-reaching effects of a kindly act. I don't know which girl first thought of that circulating baby, but that doesn't matter. Little Mabel, just one of dozens of tiny tots in the asylum, was destined to grow up merely one of many in the cold white dormitories, tended by faithful attendants and nurses too busy and full of care to love or mother their charges. Now, through the action of the Scouts, she has a tender mother and a proud and loving father, and will no doubt grow up to be a fine woman. "I wish we could all do something as fine to help carry on. I want you to be on the look-out every day of your lives for a chance. And when an opportunity presents itself to you, seize it as a positive gift from heaven. A gift not to the person whom you are about to benefit, but a gift to _you_." "Well, shall we have a circulating baby?" asked Jane. "Not necessarily," laughed the Captain. "There are countless ways in which you can help the old world on." "But a baby must be such fun!" There was a groan from two or three girls as they heard Jane speak, and one black-eyed gypsy remarked bitterly that _she_ had a baby sister that they could circulate at any time, as far as she cared. Jane laughed. "That is the way she talks, Captain," she said, "but when that baby was sick last winter Letty nearly went crazy." Letty blushed. "_That_ is different!" she said. "Of course!" answered the Captain. "Well, it is time for each of you to think up some plan of kindness for vacation time." "What would you advise?" asked Estella, wriggling. "I do not advise at all," said the Captain. "I want you to do your own planning because I want the credit to be all yours. I am sure everyone of you knows some invalid, some poor child, some old person, or some very poor sad or troubled neighbor who needs you. Keep your eyes open, my dears, and listen carefully. There will be a hand beckoning or a voice calling sooner or later. And if you should miss the summons, you would always be sorry." "When is Mabel Brewster going to bring you her report?" asked Jane. "She is simply seeing how selfish she can be, isn't she, Captain?" asked Estella. "Not quite that," said the Captain, a sober look stealing over her pretty face. "Mabel was dissatisfied with her life and had ambitions that did not seem to be just what a girl should strive for, so her mother and I thought it would be a good thing for Mabel, as well as for all of us, to allow her to try her theories out and tell us the result." "Well, _I_ think she is _perfectly miserable_," announced Jane bluntly. "I don't think she likes it a _bit_! How she stands it at all I don't see. And do you know, Captain, my brother says Frank sleeps every night on that little hard settee outside her door because he is afraid someone might try to get in; and as soon as school is out, he hangs around the _Times-Leader_ office to walk home with her. She doesn't know it, of course, and I suppose if she did she would be mad, but if I thought _my_ brother was a perfect angel like that I would feel so proud!" "Why, what a dear he is!" said the Captain, the tears starting to her eyes. "_She_ doesn't deserve him!" said Jane. CHAPTER X Claire and Rosanna lingered after the meeting, talking with the Captain and Mrs. Horton, but presently Colonel Maslin came for them, and they said good-night and went away, Rosanna feeling as though she was doing something quite out of the way and rather dreadful in going off with another girl at that time of night. It must have been at least nine! The two girls sat with the Colonel while he ate the lunch set before him by the Chinaman--a cracker and a glass of buttermilk it was--and then they said good-night and went laughing upstairs to Claire's sitting-room. In the pretty bed-room Rosanna found her clothes laid out neatly and the two took off their trim Scout uniforms and slipped into comfy kimonos. Rosanna found that when Claire was not brooding, she was as gay and bright as any girl, and happiness transformed her face into a beautiful, glowing countenance that made Rosanna happy just to look at it. "I wish you always felt like this," she said after a funny story of Claire's had sent her into gales of laughter. "Like what?" demanded Claire quickly. Rosanna was sorry that she had spoken. "Why, so jolly and merry," she said. The cloud settled over Claire's face again. "Perhaps I should not have said that, dear Claire," continued Rosanna gently, "but you don't know just how you _do_ look a good deal of the time." Claire shot a quick glance at her, and then looked away. "How do I look?" she asked abruptly. "I thought I looked like most every girl." "Well, you don't," said Rosanna. She studied the beautiful, unhappy face of her friend, finding trouble in choosing her words. "It is hard for me to tell you just how you look, only it hurts me when I see it." "Try to tell me," urged Claire as though the subject interested her deeply. Rosanna floundered on. "I don't know just how to explain to you, but you seem to be listening to something that I cannot hear, and way down deep in the bottom of your eyes there is a horror." As Rosanna spoke, looking full at Claire, she trembled to see the horror leap from the depths of those jade green eyes and blaze out. "Why, what is it? What can it be?" she stammered, clasping Claire in her warm arms. "Oh, dear Claire, there _is_ something that frightens you! Tell me what it is. Does your father know? Oh, Claire, we are both Scouts; let me help you!" For a long moment Claire seemed not to breathe. She did not move. Then with a gasping sigh, she gently unclasped Rosanna's arms and stood up. She commenced slowly to unbraid her red hair. She did not speak, and in silence Rosanna watched the gleaming, shining masses, released from their prim daytime fashion, fall like a royal garment around Claire's shoulders. Far below her waist hung the rippling locks. Claire inclined her head as though she wished to hide herself and her troubles beneath that veil. Then suddenly, proudly she flung up her head and looked straight at Rosanna with cold, level eyes. "No one can help me," she said quietly. "I will not deny that there _is_ something that troubles me, but that is all that I can tell you. I am sorry I have let you see this much. I could tell you if I were any other girl, but I cannot." "I only want to help you, dear Claire," said Rosanna. "I hope that you feel as though you can trust me." "Indeed I do," protested Claire, her eyes filling with tears. "I never have trusted _any_ girl so much." "Then that is all right," said Rosanna, with her sweet smile. "I just want you to promise me one thing and that is that if ever you feel as though you wanted to tell anyone, or if you feel as though anyone could help you, I want you to come to me." "I will indeed promise that," said Claire, "but I do not think that that time will ever come. I _want_ to tell you, but I cannot. And no one on earth can help me." "I don't believe I would say that, Claire," said Rosanna musingly. "You never _can_ tell just who can help you until the time comes when you need help, and then there it is, just as though you had called for it." "I shall not call," smiled Claire stubbornly. "And please, Rosanna, let us talk of other things." Rosanna brightly changed the conversation. "What I am crazy to talk about is, whatever is it you are putting on?" "This?" asked Claire, holding out a fold of the gorgeous embroidered garment she had slipped on. "It is a Mandarin coat; a real one. A real Mandarin gave it to me. I was quite a little girl. It was while daddy was stationed in China, and he and mother had a great many friends among the really high-class Chinese. "When we came away, the Mandarin sent a box by a half-dozen bearers. It was a sort of chest with trays. There was a wonderful robe for mother made of silk as shimmery and delicate as a cobweb. It is crusted with gold embroidery and there are tiny shoes to match. Then there was a set of real jade--hair ornaments, a necklace, pins, and this ring." "I have noticed it," said Rosanna. "It is too lovely! And it is lovely of your mother to let you wear it until she gets well." Claire was silent for a moment, then went on: "In a lower tray there was this robe for me, and dozens of the most wonderful toys and playthings such as the royal children in China have, and which we over here never see. Everything but this coat is packed away. Dad says the toys are most of them really museum pieces, they are so beautiful and so rare." "You ought to save them for your children," said Rosanna. "When I grow up I shall give them to the Institute in Washington," Claire said with a frown. "That is the place for them." Rosanna shook her head. "You are more generous than I could be," she laughed. "What else was there in the chest?" "Something queer; as queer as China itself," said Claire. "All wrapped up in my Mandarin coat was a package with my name written on it. We opened the wrapper and found a little case or casket sealed up tight with wax and bearing the impression of the Mandarin's signet ring. There is an inscription on the box. Chinese, of course, but daddy could read it. It said, 'Some far day, one will give you a gift beyond all price. Give them, in return, this casket as a token of your gratitude and mine.'" "What was in it?" asked Rosanna breathlessly. "Why, we don't know," said Claire. "It was sealed, as I said, and I must not break it, of course. I suppose the curious thing will go to the museum, too, because no one will give me a gift 'beyond price.'" "Oh, Claire, _don't_ be so unbelieving! You don't know what might happen," cried Rosanna. "I never heard anything so exciting and so mysterious! What do you suppose is in the box?" "I can't guess," said Claire. "I shook it, but nothing rattled. It is in a safe deposit vault. Perhaps it is just the box, because that is gold and perfectly beautiful." "How large is it?" asked Rosanna. "About like that," said Claire, measuring off a space the size of a commercial envelope. "Well, I think I never heard anything so mysterious and exciting. I should think you would just go around waiting to have someone give you some wonderful present just so you could have the fun of giving them the box so you could see what is inside." "Dad says there is a catch about it somewhere, that people like ourselves do not go around giving presents beyond price and that it is exactly like a Chinaman to do something like that. The box, I mean. All sorts of queer things happen in China." "Tell me some more about what you did over there," begged Rosanna. "I suppose we ought to go to bed, but I am so excited that I don't feel as though I could ever sleep again." So, curling up in a big chair, Claire told Rosanna stories of the strange, mysterious East. Rosanna, thinking how very, very soon she too would see that strange side of the world, sat shivering with delight. Claire talked on and on. She was a good story-teller and everything was as clear and real as though they were wandering hand and hand down those strange and ancient ways. Then Claire skipped lightly out of China into Honolulu, and thrilled Rosanna with pictures of that fairy island of Hawaii. Rosanna forgot China, forgot the mysterious box as though they had been wiped quite neatly out of her mind. "Oh, I'm CRAZY to go there!" she cried finally. "It must be _too_ lovely!" "It is," declared Claire, and started off on a description of the wonderful bathing at Wakiki, when: "Well, well, what's this?" rumbled in the door. Both girls shrieked and jumped and stared wildly at Colonel Maslin, standing in the doorway. "And I told the little Captain that I would take good care of her girl if she could come over here to visit Claire," he said, shaking his head. "I don't see how I am going to explain this. Of course, I will have to 'fess up and what she won't do to me--" "She won't mind for once," said Rosanna. "It will be grandmother who will mind. She always minds dreadfully when I stay up late." "And I am awfully afraid of your grandmother," declared Colonel Maslin. "I will protect you," Rosanna promised, laughing. "You will both protect me by hopping into bed this minute," said the Colonel. "In exactly two minutes I will return and put out the light, and I want to see both girls with their eyes tight shut and fast asleep." He turned and left the room and when he entered again the red head and the black were snuggled down, each in her soft pillow, and two pairs of eyes were tight shut, nor did they open when he dropped a light kiss on each round cheek and tiptoed out. Rosanna fell into a restless sleep, filled with fantastic visions and presently she awoke. For a little she could not place herself. The feeling of a strange bed confused her. Then she heard a queer muffled sound, and sat up quietly. It did not come from the twin bed beside her own. She reached cautiously over and touched the spread. Claire was not lying there. The muffled sobs were farther away. Rosanna's eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and she could make out a blur of white lying near the window on the dark rug. Claire was lying there on the rug, and Claire was crying; crying as though her heart was broken. Rosanna's firm little jaw set itself still more firmly. She slid from her bed and ran across the room. As she approached the sorrowing girl she breathed softly: "Claire, dear, dear Claire, I cannot stand it! You need not tell me why you are so sad if you do not want to, but you must, _must_ let me love you and comfort you." The touch of Rosanna's tender arms, the loving kiss, and her heartfelt words seemed to break down Claire's icy reserve. To Rosanna's surprise and relief, she turned, wound her arms around Rosanna's neck, and whispered brokenly: "Oh, Rosanna, I _will_ tell you! I _must_ tell someone or I will die!" "Of course, you must tell me," soothed Rosanna. "Come away from this cold place first." "No, no! I want to lie right here!" cried Claire. "Why, of course you don't, dear," said Rosanna. "Please! Make believe I am your really truly sister tonight, as well as your Scout sister, and let's get into my bed and you can cuddle close and tell me all about it." Claire commenced to sob again, but Rosanna tenderly coaxed her into bed and clasped her tight. Claire did not speak; she lay in Rosanna's arms sobbing as though her heart were broken. Rosanna did not speak, and at last Claire controlled herself. "I was sure you were sound asleep," she said, "or I would have gone down into the study, but I hate to go around the house in the night. It frightens me." "I should think it would," said Rosanna, staring into the dark and hugging Claire closer. "But I get to thinking and I can't sleep. I suppose that is why I am so much paler than most of the girls. I am awake so much, because I am too unhappy to sleep." "But that is all wrong," said Rosanna. "Why are you so unhappy, Claire?" "Can't you guess, Rosanna?" "Is it your mother?" asked Rosanna. Claire shivered violently. "Yes," she breathed. "Oh, Claire!" said Rosanna, her own tears wetting Claire's forehead. "Oh, Claire, is it as bad as that? Is your mother so _dreadfully_ ill? I thought she just had nervous prostration or something like that. That is what most people have, isn't it? I am so sorry! So dreadfully sorry! Perhaps there is a mistake. Sometimes doctors think people are awfully sick and going to--going to die, and then they get well as ever." Claire laughed a sudden, jangling, harsh laugh that frightened Rosanna more than her sobs. She turned her lips close to Rosanna's ear, as though she hated to breathe aloud the words she struggled to utter. "Mother is not going to die," she said finally. "She is insane!" CHAPTER XI Rosanna gave a little cry of sympathy and pain, but she did not speak and Rosanna simply held her close and patted her back, whispering, "There, there!" over and over until at last the cries subsided, and Claire, spent and tired, lay quite still. "Are they _sure_ they can't cure her?" Rosanna whispered finally. "There is no hope," said Claire. "She seems to get worse all the time. She scarcely knows daddy now, and doesn't seem to care whether he comes to see her or not. For a long time she wanted to see him." "Did she know what the matter was?" asked Rosanna. "No, not that we know, only she is so sad, when she is herself, that daddy thinks she knows." "Oh, I do feel _sure_ that she will get well!" said Rosanna. Claire sadly shook her head. "There is no hope," she repeated. "We have had doctor after doctor, all the big specialists, and they can't do a _thing_. And oh, Rosanna, she was _so_ pretty and so bright! We were _so_ happy!" "How did you find out about it?" "She commenced to have headaches," said Claire, then added haltingly, as though she could not bear to tell even Rosanna about it, "and she grew so angry about everything: awfully angry, so daddy was afraid she might hurt me. She did once or twice, but I never told. She just hit me with things, you know. Then the doctors said she must go away, my pretty, pretty, loving mother, who used to love me so! Why, she was _never_ happy for a single minute unless daddy or I was with her. And she used to be so full of fun and tricks, just like a little girl. And oh, Rosanna, now I have to think of my mother in a sanitarium, with just nurses to look after her. Daddy's heart has broken and so has mine. And, Rosanna, that is not all. I am going insane, too." After a stupefied pause, Rosanna bounced violently up on her knees and shook Claire roughly. "Claire, _what_ a thing to say!" she exclaimed. "How _can_ you say anything like that? Never, NEVER say it again." "It doesn't matter whether I say it or not," said Claire, "it is going to happen, and it will kill daddy. Why, Rosanna, I have the most awful tempers you ever dreamed of and when they come on I don't know or care what I do or say. I feel too awfully afterwards, of course, but I go into a sort of frenzy and can't control myself. I hate to tell you all this, Rosanna; you will not understand it perhaps, but if I do not tell someone, I shall die! I cannot bear it alone any longer. We have kept it so quiet about mother. No one in the Army suspects. We always say she has had a nervous breakdown." "Well, I can never tell you, Claire, dear, how dreadfully I feel about it all," said Rosanna, kissing her friend's wet cheek. "But I am glad you have told me. We will bear it together, and I am sure that will make it easier for you. And as far as you are concerned, I am perfectly sure that is nothing at all but imagination." She slid down and once more took Claire's head on her loving little arm. "You are so tired, dear," she said. "Let us rest awhile, and then when you feel better, I will tell you about _my_ mother and father. Wouldn't you like to hear about them?" "I would love to," said Claire. "Oh, it _is_ easier to bear now that you are sharing it with me," she murmured. "Rest," said Rosanna softly, catching a sleepy note in the tired voice. Then suddenly, "Where is your mother now?" "At a place called Laurel Hill Home, just outside of Cincinnati," said Claire, and in two minutes her regular heavy breathing told Rosanna that she was sound asleep. And in about two minutes more two girls, cuddled close, were dreamlessly sleeping. When they woke the following morning they found the blinds drawn so there was a soft twilight in the room, but on the pavement outside they could hear the shuffle and patter of many feet going to the Christian Science temple near by. Claire rubbed her sleepy eyes, then leaned over and patted Rosanna. "Will you ever forgive me for keeping you awake all night?" she asked wistfully. "What a _selfish_ girl I am!" "Indeed, you are not!" declared Rosanna. "Goodness me, what time is it? Do I hear people going past to church?" "You do," laughed Claire. "Well, I was sure we put up all the shades before we went to bed." "We did, but daddy closed them before he went up to Camp. He always does that if he thinks I had better sleep late, and leaves a letter for me. He is _so_ good, Rosanna. I wish he had a nicer child." "Well, I suppose one can be almost any way one _wants_ to me," replied Rosanna. "I was so bad and ungrateful once that I'm sure anyone who wants to try can change themselves. I am not so very good yet, but I can't help knowing that I am much nicer than I was." Both girls laughed. "Yes, I am sure you are very nice, indeed," said Claire. "I could never be as nice as you are." "Don't make fun of me," pouted Rosanna, her eyes twinkling. "Let's hurry up and go to church. The Christian Science Church has service an hour sooner than the others, so we will have time if we rush." They _did_ rush, and a brisk walk brought them to the arched door of the old ivy-covered church just as the long line of choir boys walked slowly down the aisle. Rosanna heard nothing of the very excellent sermon. It was the first time she had had to think quietly of what Claire had told her in the night. She went over it all carefully, her tender heart aching for the poor girl beside her. If there was only _something_ she could do. She wanted to help. But what could anyone do in a case like this? If all those wise doctors said that there was no help for poor Mrs. Maslin, surely there was nothing for a poor little Girl Scout to do. Finally she closed her eyes tight, very tight, and a fervent little prayer for guidance squeezed itself out of her heavy heart. "Please, _please_ show me what to do!" she begged, and at once, right then, the rector spoke loudly: "What have _you_ done?" he demanded. "Have _you_ made an honest effort to solve your problems, to unravel your tangles, or have you supinely left it all with your Creator? Believe me, you must make an honest effort yourself. Ask yourself if you are really trying to do what there is for you to do." Rosanna was so startled that she grew red and sat up very straight. Then she reflected that it was a good thing that she had heard that much of the sermon. She had prayed for help, and she must be awake and ready to receive it when it came. Moreover, she herself must look for a way. All the way back to Claire's she pondered, and was so silent during dinner that the Colonel accused her of being sleepy. After dinner the Colonel said he had some letters to write, but later he would take them to the Country Club for supper. So the girls decided to write also, and settled themselves on either side of the big library table. Claire was soon busy writing to a schoolmate in Honolulu, but Rosanna dawdled over her paper. Then all at once it came to her. Bright as day, clear as a bell, she knew what she wanted to do and how to do it. Her thoughts flew back to the time when Doctor Branshaw, over there in Cincinnati, had operated on poor little lame Gwenny and had made her well; actually well. She wondered if people with hurt or lame brains could not be operated on. And that was another thought. Had Mrs. Maslin ever been hurt, or had she just--well, just gone so naturally? "I have been thinking about your mother," she said suddenly, interrupting Claire. "What do you suppose made her so--I mean the way she is? Did she ever get hurt?" "Not enough to harm her," said Claire, starting. "No, never! She had an awful fall with her horse once, that stunned her for half an hour. I was with her and I was frightened almost to death. But she was all right again in no time, and it did not hurt her at all except where she bumped her head. She would not let me tell daddy because he always worried over things. Her hair was so thick that it didn't cut her, but it was a hard blow and she had an awful headache for days, but that was all. No, she was never hurt." "I wondered," said Rosanna, and commenced to write. And this is what she said: "_Dear Doctor Branshaw_: "You said to the Girl Scouts of our Troop once that we must be sure to tell you if ever we found another Gwenny. Do you remember? And we all promised that we would. "Well, I have. But this girl is not a bit like Gwenny. She is beautiful, and has loads and loads of money, and is perfectly well. But oh, Doctor Branshaw, she is really sadder than Gwenny, because she has no brothers and sisters, but a lovely father whose heart is broken and her mother is insane. The doctors say she will never be any better, but just go on getting worse and worse always. But I prayed about it, and I know that you can cure her. You would be glad to if you could see this girl. Her name is Claire Maslin, and her father is a colonel in the Army and is stationed here. She is not like a girl at all except once in awhile when she forgets, and she thinks she is going to go insane too, when she gets older. She feels it coming on, but I am sure she is mistaken. But every girl needs her mother, don't you think so? And so please cure Mrs. Maslin. She is at a place right there in Cincinnati, and the address is on the slip of paper pinned to the top sheet. "I know that you are very busy, but it will make you feel as good as you did about Gwenny when you have cured Claire's mother, because I feel as though she needs her very, very badly. Although Colonel Maslin is truly lovely, of course he can't really be a mother. "So _please_ do this, Doctor, as soon as you can possibly get the time. "Your loving little friend, "ROSANNA HORTON. "P. S. Claire is a Girl Scout." Rosanna sealed the letter and addressed it and leaned back with a sigh of relief. Claire glanced up, and seeing that Rosanna was through her writing said slowly: "Rosanna, if you were with me, I don't believe I would ever have another of those awful spells. I feel so different when I am with you. You make me feel so brave and quiet. Dad says he wants me to go to the seashore this summer and I want you to come with me." It was on Rosanna's lips to say that she was going on a wonderful voyage across the sea, but she remembered her promise to Uncle Bob and stammered, "Oh, that would be lovely, Claire, but I would have to see grandmother about it." "Oh, _make_ them say yes!" begged Claire. "I _need_ you, Rosanna. I truly do! Of course, if there is something else you want to do, it is all right, but I do want you awfully, dear Rosanna, and I am sure we will have a good time." "I know it would be perfectly splendid," said Rosanna, wondering why everything had to happen at the same time. "I will ask about it tonight, and then I can tell you tomorrow." "Good," said Claire. "And I will go to dad's study right now and tell him that he must beg your family to let you come." "All right," laughed Rosanna, "and while you are telling him, I will go and change my dress." She ran lightly upstairs and Claire, humming a little tune in her new happiness, skipped to her father's private office and opened the door. What she saw stopped her like a blow. Her father sat at his desk, his head buried in his arms. His wife's picture was clasped in one hand. His shoulders shook with sobs. Rosanna looked up with a smile as Claire entered, but Claire did not return it. She closed the door carefully, almost as though she thought it might break, then leaning against it, stood looking into space. "What did he say?" asked Rosanna. "Nothing; that is, I didn't speak to him," said Claire. Then with a rush, "Rosanna, I can't invite you to the seashore after all. I shall not go. I shall stay with dad. He is down there with mother's picture in his hand, _crying_. I never saw him cry, Rosanna. It's awful! He is always so brave. I never saw him cry. I cry enough, but somehow it's awful for _dad_ to cry. You see I can't leave him, can I, Rosanna?" "No," said Rosanna, "you can't leave him." "He is always so cheerful and bright that I never thought about his feeling it like this. Oh, how selfish I have been! I do not deserve to be a Girl Scout at all. I came to the place in the Manual the other day, where it tells about loyalty to parents, and I wouldn't read it at all, I was so sorry for myself. I just don't deserve my badge. I shall tell the Captain to deprive me of it." "Nothing of the sort!" said Rosanna firmly. "You will simply do differently, that's all." "Indeed I will! My darling daddy! I didn't know what to do, Rosanna, so I just came out. I shall not let him know a thing, but I shall tell him that I mean to stay here with him. And I can be near you, Rosanna, and you will help me." The two girls looked at each other. Claire's eyes were pleading and wistful, her mouth trembled and she breathed as though she had been running. Rosanna stared until Claire went out in a sort of a mist like the fade-outs in the movies. And in her place Rosanna saw the tumbling waters and the white sails of all the ports of the world! And her heart went down, and down, and down! Then she saw Claire again, and she was saying, "You _will_ help me, won't you, Rosanna?" And Rosanna's heart came up, and up, and up. It was filled with splendid sacrifice and high resolve, and loving kindness; but she only said, "Yes, Claire, I will be here, and I will help you." Rosanna had made her choice. CHAPTER XII When Rosanna went home that night after supper at the Club and a long drive up the River Road, she realized for the first time just how great a sacrifice she _had_ made. All the Ports of the World to see, and now she might never, never see them! A thousand things might come up to prevent another such a journey. She fairly ached as she thought it over. And she wondered how the family would receive the news she was about to spring. To her surprise very little was said. Her grandmother immediately wanted to know if this was more Girl Scout business, and when Rosanna said yes, she simply nodded as though that answer settled the question in a perfectly satisfactory way. Cita said, "Oh, Rosanna!" looked as though she was going to say something also, and stopped. Uncle Robert said, "Well, I'll be swamfoozled!" Being "swamfoozled" had a strange effect. Uncle Robert picked Rosanna up bodily, hugged her very hard, kissed her very hard, and then sat her down hard in a chair. Then everyone just sat and thought. "That Claire kid is sure having a hard row to hoe," said Uncle Bob finally. "Worse than death," said Mrs. Horton, thinking of young Mrs. Maslin. "The Colonel told me about it," said Cita. Uncle Robert heaved a sigh. "Well, sweetness, I believe _absolutely_ in you Girl Scouts living up to your promises exactly as it seems right to you. If you feel that staying with this girl is of enough importance to lose out on this trip overseas, I have confidence enough in your judgment to know that it _is_ important. And if it is a case of helping that poor kid through a pretty black place in her life, there is nothing else for you to do. I reckon it will come out right in the end for both of you. And I am proud of you, Rosanna." With a funny formality he bowed and shook her hand. Rosanna somehow felt well repaid. Uncle Robert never did anything like that unless he was very, very much in earnest. Very little else was talked about for the next three days and then other things came up to crowd it out of the front of Rosanna's mind. For one thing, Uncle Bob found that he could not go as soon as he thought, and that put off the packing, so Rosanna had time to get used to the idea of being left behind without all the misery of seeing the trunks filled. Claire, who did not know what a sacrifice Rosanna was about to make for her, made happy plans and dozens of them. Colonel Maslin, surprised at Claire's sudden refusal to plan for the seashore trip, insisted on a reason and was made very happy by the knowledge that his cold and moody daughter really loved her unhappy father more than she did her own pleasure. Late in the afternoon of the third day Rosanna was called to the telephone. It was a long distance call from Cincinnati and for a full five minutes Dr. Branshaw talked to her. Rosanna was very thoughtful when she hung up the receiver and went down to ask Claire who was sitting in the rose arbor, if she was going to drive to camp after her father. Claire was, and together they started. On a sunny corner, up by the Reform School, they saw Mabel Brewster standing. She looked warm and dejected, and Claire stopped the car and asked the young newspaper woman if she cared to ride with them. Mabel accepted with very little enthusiasm, remarking as she did so that she had to be back at the office at a quarter before six. When they reached Camp, Rosanna slipped her hand in Claire's and said coaxingly, "Claire dear, I want to see your father all by himself. Will you mind?" "A secret?" asked Claire, laughing. "Dear me, how exciting this is! Shall I ever know what it is about?" "If you are a good girl perhaps," said Rosanna, skipping toward the Colonel's office. When she found herself seated facing Colonel Maslin across the big flat-top desk, her courage failed her for a minute, then she plunged into the story. "I don't know if I have done right or not, Colonel Maslin," she said. "All I thought was that Claire is a Girl Scout and we are bound to help each other. And I did not stop to ask anyone's advice." "What can it be?" said Colonel Maslin, smiling. "Claire told me about her mother," resumed Rosanna. "And what she is afraid of, you know; and I felt as though there must be _some_ way to help. So Sunday morning, you know, we went to church; and I just sat there and thought and _thought_, and then I prayed. I did not hear a word of the sermon, but right away Doctor Ford just shouted at me, and asked if _I_ had been trying to _do_ anything. And that I had better had if I expected God to help me. But even then I didn't know what to do. When we were writing letters after dinner, it all came to me. You know the little Gwenny I told you about, and the doctor in Cincinnati who made her perfectly well? "Well, I wrote him a letter right then. I asked him to please cure Mrs. Maslin as soon as he had time, because Claire is a Girl Scout. This afternoon Doctor Branshaw telephoned me. He says he can't go ahead and take care of Mrs. Maslin unless you tell him to. He can't have anything to do with it at all unless you say so. But he knows the doctor where Mrs. Maslin is, so he went up to see her and he asked me if I knew how long since Mrs. Maslin fell." "She never had a fall," said Colonel Maslin positively. "Yes, she fell from her horse about six years ago," said Rosanna. "It gave her fearful headaches." "How do you know all this?" demanded the Colonel. "Claire told me. She was with her mother but she promised not to tell on account of worrying you, and it didn't amount to anything." "Good heavens!" muttered Colonel Maslin. "Go on!" "I told the Doctor about that, and he said if you wanted to consult him, to telephone him." Instead of answering, the Colonel took down the telephone receiver and inquired about trains to Cincinnati. Then he rose, came to Rosanna, and very solemnly kissed her on the forehead. "I shall take the nine o'clock train for Cincinnati to see this doctor of yours, and I think it would be well if we kept our hopes to ourselves for awhile. It would not be kind to raise Claire's hopes again." "That is what I thought," answered Rosanna. "She will just think our talk is something about vacation. Oh, Colonel, I am so _sure_ that Doctor Branshaw will cure Mrs. Maslin! If you had seen Gwenny, you would feel just as I do, I am sure." "Claire's mother is ill in a different way, my dear," said Colonel Maslin sadly, "but we will hope for the best. As soon as I return from Cincinnati, I will tell you just what the doctor says. I would try anything in the world--but we must go now." Together they went out to the car, Colonel Maslin looking so thoughtful that Claire declared that she didn't see how they could either of them bear to leave her out of the secret. They drove down to the _Times-Leader_ office with Mabel, and on the way home Claire said that Mabel was awfully excited. She had written a poem and had left a copy of it on the Editor's desk. "She says," said Claire, "that she knows it is good, and if the _Times-Leader_ pays a dollar a line, the way lots of the magazines do, she will get a hundred dollars for it." "Great Scott!" said Colonel Maslin. "How long is it?" "Twenty stanzas, five lines each," said Claire. "She made them four lines each at first, then she put on a sort of refrain, on account of the extra dollar." "A very businesslike young poet," said Colonel Maslin. "I would like to see a sample of that poem. I am not sure that I would have time to read twenty stanzas, but I could get a good idea of it from eight or ten verses, no doubt." "Well, we will see it all, if it is published," said Claire. "Mabel says she will not allow them to print it unless they pay her price for it. She says good work is always worth its price." Colonel Maslin shook his head solemnly. "That beats all!" he said. "I suppose by now she has her check and is wondering what to do with the one hundred dollars." Nothing like that was happening to Mabel! Since the fatal Sunday when she had refused to attend the office boy's picnic, he had regarded her with such scorn that it was apparent to the whole force. Mabel's small, shy overtures of friendship were simply scoffed at. He did not leave her alone; he put himself in her way for the pleasure it gave him to stalk off again, with a grin on his face and his snub nose in the air. Reams of society notes which Mabel had written, only to have them discarded by Miss Gere, he picked out of the waste baskets and laid on her desk, saying loudly, "I think these are yours, Miss Brewster." When she went out at night, she found him hanging affectionately over Frank's shoulder, but at the sight of her he turned and strutted off. Mabel was sure that the City Editor was watching her more than he had at first, but her conceit took that as a compliment. Miss Gere's manner had not changed, but Mabel heard her sigh often. Miss Gere _was_ sighing over Mabel, but Mabel did not guess that. She would not have believed such a thing possible. She did not like the manner of the office boy, however. It hurt her pride. When she reached the door of the office, it was deserted excepting for Jimmie who, with his face pressed close to the dingy window pane, was watching something in the street below. In a corner near the door a temporary cloak-room had been made by running up two flimsy partitions. They were only six feet high but there was a place to fix one's hair at a little glass and keep coats and hats out of the dust. Mabel tiptoed quickly into this haven and decided to wait there until someone else came in. She sat down noiselessly on the rickety chair but immediately she heard steps and voices. Before she could rise she heard a sentence that froze her. She forgot that listening is a despicable trick. She just sat transfixed! The voice was that of the Editor and he was evidently talking to Miss Gere about her, because he said: "Why, today I found a poem on my desk, with a letter. Why, Miss Gere, that kid ought to be home under her mother's wing, and here she is trying to be sophisticated, and writing drivel that would shame a child six years old!" Miss Gere laughed. "Don't be so severe, Chief," she begged. "I am _not_ severe!" he said savagely. "You are not fair with her. If that girl has no more feeling for her mother and no appreciation of her brother--Why, do you know that youngster sleeps outside her door every night to take care of her, for fear someone might frighten her? She _needs_ a good scare _I_ should say. Sleeps there on the floor!" Miss Gere interrupted. "Not quite as bad as that," she said. "I happen to know that there is a settee there." "Well, what's a settee for a growing boy?" growled the Chief. "Well, if she has no affection, no gratitude and evidently no natural love for her own people and only an _ordinary_ brain, what's the use of bothering with her? _I_ don't want to see her hanging around. I know she is under your charge, Miss Gere, but I wish you would let me fire her. I want to tell her to go home and ask her mother to forgive her, and see if she can get a little sense into her head, and try to live and act according to her years. Where in time did she get such notions?" "She reads a good deal, I believe," said Miss Gere. "Cheap magazines and silly novels." "Well, fire her! As far as I go, the experiment is over!" He walked over to his desk. "When she comes in tomorrow, send her to me. I will at least have the comfort of telling her what I think of this poem. You will hear the truth about your imagined talents for once, Miss Mabel Brewster." He slammed down the top of his desk and stalked out without saying good-night. Jesse, quite pale under his freckles, came over to Miss Gere. "My land!" he said. "What ails the Old Man? Somebody on the _Journal_ must 'a' got a scoop away from him. Say, he gave it to her good, didn't he?" "She deserves all that, Jesse, but he was rather wild about it." "_I_ don't think she deserves such a call," said Jesse. "And I don't say that because she ever fell for me, because she didn't. She hates me worse'n a stingin' adder, but I bet she's a darned nice girl if it wasn't for this foolishness about a career. She's a Girl Scout, too, and has a whole sleeve full of Merit badges. You can't fake those, you know. She's due to get a fierce bump, and if she doesn't get it here, she will the next place. Gee, I'm glad I'm not her!" "She _is_ a little goose," said Miss Gere, who had had a hard day and was tired out. "And she has the sweetest mother in the world." "Don't I know? I'll say I do!" said Jesse fervently. "She chaperoned a picnic last week for us, and before the picnic was half over all of us fellows had forgotten the picnic, and the girls and everything, and were sitting around Mrs. Brewster, listening to her talk. I'll say she is all right! And Miss M. Brewster _wouldn't go_! Well, I am sorry for her. She must have a good streak somewhere. Are you going now, Miss Gere?" They went out together, and Mabel could hear their voices echoing along the empty corridor. She was shaking. Somehow she got out of the building and turned toward Third Street. Frank was not in sight, having been told by Jesse that his sister was not in the office. She hoped fervently that she would not meet him. As she passed a grocery she remembered that her larder was empty, but she did not want to eat ever again. She wanted to get into her room and shut the door on the whole world. _Her_ world had tumbled. As she made her way blindly past the closed stores and around by the trolley terminal she felt a touch on her arm. She turned, and a young rowdy fell into step with her, and pushed his battered hat rakishly over his eyes. "Hello, girlie!" he muttered in a hoarse voice. "Seen you comin' an' made up my mind you hadn't no date. I like your looks. How's a sody?" He took Mabel by the elbow. She wrenched herself free, and with a gasp ran fleetingly up the street. So this was what Frank had been saving her from! Such creatures as the one who had just spoken to her! She looked behind, and saw to her relief that the fellow was not trying to follow her. She choked down her sobs and hurried on. When she reached the apartment she locked the door behind her with trembling fingers, and for the first time looked under beds and in clothes-presses; everywhere where an intruder might lurk. But she was quite alone. CHAPTER XIII Mabel Brewster may live to be a very old woman but she will never like to look back at that one night in her life. She could not eat anything; she could not read, although a nice trashy novel invited her. She could not sleep. And it was well. Mabel had come to a place where she was forced to balance her books. She had been _so_ anxious to be a business woman, a professional woman, a Free Soul, that she had not looked once on the debit side of the page. And sooner or later we all must do this. She was very, very unhappy, embarrassed and ashamed; but her mind was made up. All she longed for was light--the coming of day so that she could carry out the plans she had formulated. She sat thinking, thinking until ten o'clock, then with a queer little smile as she noticed the time, she went to the door with caution and turned the key, and slowly, very slowly opened the door. It was true. On the cramped, uncomfortable settee, curled up asleep, was Frank. Mabel stared. So it was true--her brother--just as they had said! For one wild moment her resolves vanished. She felt an overpowering impulse to run away, to disappear so the dear people whom she had utterly failed would never again see her face. But it vanished as quickly as it had come. She stepped to Frank's side and laid her hand gently on his shoulder. Instantly his arm shot out in a sweeping blow and he leaped to his feet. The doubled fist missed Mabel by a bare fraction. "Don't hit me, dear," she said gently. "Come inside and go to bed properly. You see I know all about you at last. I can't thank you for being so good to me, but I am going to be a better sister to you, Frank." Frank, looking rather sheepish at being caught, followed his sister into the room. He looked about it curiously. He had never been through the apartment, wishing to show by his absence that he disapproved of the whole thing. Now, however, he was embarrassed and needed a subject for conversation. "It is not bad here," he said gruffly. "I think it is _perfectly horrid_!" said Mabel. "If you and mother will let me, I am coming home tomorrow." "To stay?" asked Frank incredulously. "To stay forever and ever!" said Mabel. "It will take me that long to show you what a goose I have been, and how I mean to be different. Oh, Frank, there is _no_ such thing as a person living all for herself. _Never!_ I wonder if there was ever such a silly, conceited, _selfish_ person in the world before." "Well, my goodness, Mabe, I wouldn't knock myself like that," said Frank uncomfortably. "If that's the way you feel, why, it's all right. I know mother will be tickled to death to have you home again. She feels pretty bad about your being away. She is lonesome as the dickens for you. But she is so sweet she wouldn't let you know it." Mabel burst into tears. "Oh, I have been lonesome too!" she cried. "I have been perfectly miserable! Oh, Frank, I don't see what ailed me!" "Why not pick up some of your things and go home tonight?" suggested Frank hopefully. "No," she said. "If I am going to turn over a new leaf I will have a good many things to do tomorrow. Oh dear, it is going to be perfectly awful, but I deserve it. We had better go to bed now, Frank. There is a bed all made up in the little room next to mine. Oh, how scared I used to be here all alone!" "I wouldn't bother to think about it," said Frank. "I bet we will have a good time after this, Sissy. We will understand each other better. And I have learned a lesson myself; and that is to stick by my mother just as close as ever I can." "Here, too!" said Mabel. "Oh, I wish it was morning! I wish tomorrow was all over!" "Can I help?" asked Frank, as he stooped to unlace his shoes. "No, thank you," said Mabel grimly. "I started this thing, and I am going to finish it." "Well, good-night then," said Frank, giving his sister a hearty hug and kiss, which Mabel returned joyfully. The days when she had turned a cold cheek to her brother or had given him a chilly peck were past forever. Next morning, Mabel, instead of wadding her nice hair up in buns, braided it neatly in her old fashion, put on her neatest and most girlish dress, and went down to the _Times-Leader_ office. All the reporters had received their assignments and had gone out. The City Editor sat at his desk inside the magic railing that Mabel had planned to pass. She caught her breath, then walked up and rested her hands on the rail. When he saw her the Editor rose. He felt as though he wanted to look as tall as he felt, when he said what he intended to say to this pert young person. "Well, young lady," he commenced, but Mabel, nodding her head, interrupted him. "Yes, sir, I know just what you are going to say," she said, fixing her eyes bravely on his. "I never meant to eavesdrop, but I was here in the cloak-room last evening when you said what you did to Miss Gere. About me, I mean, and my selfishness, and my bad poetry and all of everything. And it is all true. I am glad I heard you. It is perfectly true. But I have been finding out since I came in here that I don't amount to anything. And I have been so bad to my mother that perhaps she won't want me to come home at all. I am sorry you have had to bother with me, and of course I don't deserve any wages. I just wanted you to know that I am going to go home and beg my mother to forgive me, and if she _will_ let me come back, I am going to try to show her that it did pay to let me make this experiment after all." Mabel choked, but before the dumbfounded Editor could sit down nearer Mabel's level and feel as small as he _wanted_ to feel, she went on: "I think mother will let me try again. She is that sort. And you needn't be afraid; I will truly, _truly_ be a good girl, and I'm so sorry." She turned and bolted for the door and collided violently with Jesse, who had entered just behind her with a letter for the Editor. Mabel righted herself and gave the boy a jerky little nod. "You heard what I said, didn't you?" she asked. "Well, I mean it! And I am sorry I was horrid to you. It was just because I was a conceited little prig, and you needn't speak to me again ever!" She dodged around the boy and was out of sight. "_Cummere!_" roared the City Editor all in one word, but Mabel ran breathlessly down the dusty stairs toward the street. She simply could not stay up there and wait for Miss Gere. She would write her a letter or go to her house. Just as she reached the bottom of the last flight she heard someone pounding down four steps at a time. It was Jesse, and when he reached her, he laid a desperate clutch on her sleeve. "Hey, you've got to listen!" he panted. "Gosh, I won't let you go off without telling you I think you have got more grit than any girl I ever saw. No matter what you ever did to me, I'm strong for you now all right. Don't you forget that! And I want to shake hands with you if you don't mind." He put out a grimy paw and pumped Mabel's hand vigorously up and down. Mabel found herself unable to speak. She dragged her hand away and rushed out of the building, tears blinding her eyes but a strange warm feeling in her heart. She walked up the street thinking of Jesse; Jesse who had been so utterly scorned. How splendid he seemed now! How generous and friendly and loyal! And when you really looked at him, he was not homely. He had freckles, of course, and his nose was snub, and his hair seemed to be all cowlicks: but the teeth that his wide grin disclosed were dazzling white, his blue eyes simply crackled they were so full of twinkles, and his hand, despite the grime, was warm and friendly. Mabel felt her heart lift a little. It looked as though she had one friend after all. Unfortunately she had not understood the roar sent after her by the Editor. It was a pity, because that Editor was quite her ideal of everything great, and it would have comforted her to know that, as she scurried up Third Street, he was sitting hunched up in his chair, listening to Jesse's vigorous words as he told of the look on Mabel's face and her tear-filled eyes as she ran away from him. It would have comforted Mabel indeed if some kind fairy had whispered to her that she was one day to be on terms of the greatest friendliness with that same Editor, with the privilege of entering his magic railing any time she liked. But no such thought came to comfort her and she rushed on, her feet trying to keep pace with her eagerness to reach her mother. What she said to that dear mother, what tears they shed together, and what plans they made for a new and happy life together, any girl who has made a mistake and has owned up everything in the safe circle of her mother's arms will easily guess. A couple of hours later Mabel and Frank were at the miserable apartment cleaning up and packing Mabel's things. Mabel was happy. She was going home. She was going to be just a _real girl_ and a _good Scout_, and she felt as though she wanted to prance for joy. There was a Scout meeting that night and it was up to her to attend and make her report And so greatly had her point of view changed and so high had her courage grown that she did not mind one bit. It did seem as though there had never been as good a supper as that happy family sat down to enjoy. Oh, what a good supper it was! After the chilly canned meats, and olives and delicatessen cakes that Mabel had been subsisting on, to have fluffy hot biscuit, flaky potatoes, tender asparagus, and perfectly broiled beefsteak--Mabel nearly cried with happiness. They all helped to get it, and Frank sang at the top of his voice while he set the table. As soon as supper was over and the dishes stacked in the kitchen, Mrs. Brewster made Mabel get on her Scout uniform, and Frank walked over to the Hortons with her. The girls were all glad to see Mabel, and there was a sort of stir of excitement as they one and all remembered that on her return to the Scout meetings Mabel was to tell them all about her experiences in the big world of labor. Mabel was so anxious to get her story over with that she could scarcely wait for the business part of the meeting to be finished. The Captain was anxious, too. As she had had no chance to see Mabel before the meeting opened, she could not guess what Mabel intended to say, although she had an inkling that the experiment had turned out exactly as she had hoped it would. When Mabel's chance finally came, when the Captain had given her permission to speak, and she rose from her chair and faced the roomful of girls, she found that her heart was beating heavily and her breath coming fast. But she did not hesitate. "I reckon the first thing to tell you about my experiment in living for myself alone is that it will not work. I don't believe that anyone in the _world_ can actually live as selfishly as I tried to. A girl needs her mother every minute, and she needs whatever else she has in the line of a family. "Well, to begin at the beginning, I had been reading a lot of silly novels, and every time I could I went to see a movie about elopements and girls who were misunderstood by their families. You see I am going to make this a real honest confession instead of just a report. If I just said that I failed, why, some of you perhaps would think you could do better than I did, and try it for yourselves. But you needn't waste your time. Only I don't believe any other Girl Scout would ever be as silly as I have been. "Well, to begin again, I went over to an apartment that a friend of ours was leaving vacant, and there I stayed all alone. Some of you girls came to see me, but you didn't act as though you were very crazy over it and I finally learned why. Of course I know how to cook quite a few things but it was not much fun trying to fix meals for just one, and I remembered all the time how I used to grumble at home because I had to get things for Frank once in awhile. And all the while I was there in that apartment my dear brother was sleeping on a mean little settee in the hall because he was afraid I would be scared or sick." Mabel paused, and her eyes filled with tears. Then she continued: "Mother arranged for me to take a position under Miss Gere, the Society Editor of the _Times-Leader_, I thought I was going to do wonders but I found that Miss Gere had to rewrite almost everything I turned in, and no one wanted to be interviewed by a school-girl, anyway. There was an awfully nice boy in the office. I thought I was a great deal better than he was, and I snubbed him awfully, and come to find out, he is a great friend of Frank's and I am dreadfully ashamed of the way I treated _him_. Everything went from bad to worse. I finally got so I didn't have anything for meals but cooked stuff from the delicatessens, and at that I spent everything I made. I just bought me one hat. It costs awfully to live and buy food. I don't see how grown people do it. Oh, well, I will skip a lot of details. But I was sick as I could be of my experiment, and wished myself back home a million times a day; but I was too stubborn to give in. Besides, I still thought I was a little wonder at writing. But yesterday! I was in the cloak-room, and overheard the Editor talking to Miss Gere, and oh, girls, he said the most _awful_ things about me and the way I worked, and the wretched stuff I wrote, and oh, _everything_! What he thought of me for my disloyalty to my mother, trying to get out and shirk my duty just when she needs me, and everything! I don't believe he left out anything! And girls, it is all true. Every bit! "Well, he and Miss Gere went out, and I went home and sat down and thought about everything. I never felt so small. And however small I felt, I knew it was my really true size. The size I belong. About an inch high. "And presently I looked into the hall, and there was Frank all crunched up on the settee. I woke him up and asked him to forgive me, and I felt a little better. "Well, this morning I went down to see the Editor, and before he had a chance to tell me what he thought of me, I hurried up and told him what I thought of myself. He looked sort of surprised. But before he could say anything, I dashed out. And when I was almost to the door downstairs, down came that boy. He had heard everything and he came all the way down to say he thought I was _brave_, and to shake hands with me. It made me feel a little better. "I 'most ran all the way home, and I felt lonelier and littler all the way, and when I opened the door and saw my mother I just fell on her. I forgot I was going to say that my experiment had failed and that I wanted to come home. I forgot everything I had planned. When I saw how sweet she looked and how _motherly_, I just cried and cried, and all I said at all was, 'Oh, mother, _am_ I your little girl? _Am_ I your little girl for always?' And all she said was, 'Always and always and always, my darling!'" Mabel's voice trailed off to a husky whisper. Her eyes were downcast as she twisted a button on her blouse, and she did not see that half the eyes were wet. But they were friendly eyes. Not a girl there but liked Mabel a thousand times better for her brave and outright confession. "That is all," said Mabel after a pause. "Mother says it is wiped out and all past, like a fever, but I shall not forget it. I don't _want_ to forget it. And I want you, every one of you, to come right out and tell me if you ever see me acting conceited or snobbish or silly, because I will _not_ go back and be the old Mabel." "Well, Mabel, you are a brick!" said Jane, springing up. "I know we are going to be the best of friends in the world. I didn't like the old Mabel a bit either!" "I don't think there _was_ any old Mabel," said the Captain quietly. "It was always this Mabel, sensible and true, but mistaken and sadly on the wrong track. And I am so proud, Mabel, to see how you have profited by this lesson." "Thank you very much," said Mabel: then added grimly, "But new Mabel or old, she deserved it all. And I hope I never have to see that Editor again." But she did. CHAPTER XIV A day or so after this memorable meeting of the Girl Scouts things commenced to happen so rapidly that Rosanna was fairly dizzy. Uncle Bob's affairs straightened out and the family set off for New York, where they were to take passage for France, their first stopping place. Rosanna, with a heartache that she could not control, went over with her modest little trunk to stay with Claire. It was a tremendous sacrifice for the little girl to give up this marvelous journey, and all her fine generosity and tenderheartedness failed to save her a few deep pangs. But if ever a girl was repaid, it was enough to pay _anyone_ to see the wordless gratitude of Claire. When Claire found that the Hortons were going abroad and that Rosanna intended to remain with the Maslins, it was necessary to tell her something of the reason why, for of course she could not understand the common sense of Rosanna remaining with her. So Colonel Maslin explained that a new doctor was going to try the effect of an operation on her mother. Doctor Branshaw did not want to operate until he was sure that his patient was in good condition, so he insisted on waiting for awhile and to Claire this waiting would be the greatest strain of all. So much depended on the operation. Her mother, her beautiful, gay, young mother restored almost from the dead, or else.... Claire stopped there. She did not feel herself strong enough to think of anything but her mother getting well. The doctor and Colonel Maslin agreed that it would not do to worry Claire, and so the wistful and frightened girl was thrown more and more on the kindness of Rosanna. Claire was frightened. It dawned on her that perhaps her mother might die in this terrible operation that was coming. Rosanna did not fail her. She carried Claire out of her despairing moods by her own cheerful, hopeful presence and, thanks to her, the time passed quickly. School ended and vacation commenced. The summer heat beat on Louisville, and even the shady byways and lanes running through the beautiful parks were breathless. Colonel Maslin begged the girls to go into the country but Claire refused to leave him. The Troop of Girl Scouts went off for a week's camping, but as Claire would not leave her father, Rosanna decided not to go. The girls returned, sunbrowned and bubbling with funny accounts of the trip. Every evening a row of them came and sat on the Maslin porch, and told new stories. Claire and Rosanna almost felt as though they had been present. When Jane and Estella and Elise and Helen came, all talking at once, it was hard to figure out just what _had_ happened. But the funniest one of all was Mabel Brewster. Whether it was her experiences on the staff of the _Times-Leader_ or her evident happiness in her return to her home, it was hard to say; but she had become a fine story-teller and was the life of the party. She always saw the funny side of things and could tell a joke on a girl without being bitter. There came at last hot and stifling days when the thunderheads piled high in the west and the leaves hung sagging on the branches. The girls kept within doors in a desperate effort to keep out of the worst of the heat. At noon Colonel Maslin came in, looking troubled and worn. He sat down on a wicker chair near the girls, who were flat on the floor propped on their elbows, trying to read. "Claire, I have just had a telephone call from the doctor," he said. "He wants to see me. Will you come? I think you had better." "Of course, daddy!" said Claire at once. She got up. "At what time does our train go?" "I thought we might drive over," said the Colonel. "It would be so hot on a train a day like this. Will you come too, Rosanna?" "I would love to," answered Rosanna. "Just tell Chang to get ready, will you, dear?" asked the Colonel of his daughter. She left the room, and they heard her calling to Chang in the distance. "Rosanna, the time has come," said the Colonel in a voice which shook a little. "We won't tell Claire until we reach Cincinnati, but this weather is undoing all the weeks of preparation, and the doctor says the operation must take place immediately. Mrs. Maslin has been feeling so well that he is very anxious to try the experiment when she is at her strongest and best. He promises nothing. It may result in her death, but we must try it, Rosanna, if only for Claire's sake." "Does she--Mrs. Maslin know about it?" asked Rosanna. "She knows nothing, my dear," said the Colonel sadly. "Just sits and looks into space all day long. And she was the gayest, brightest, happiest creature. They called her the most popular woman in the Army. I can't tell you what she was to us." He bent his fine head and a sigh that was nearly a sob shook his shoulders. "We may lose her," he whispered. "No, indeed!" said Rosanna. "I know Dr. Branshaw is going to make her perfectly well again. _I_ don't feel worried at all. I feel so happy I don't know what to do. So _glad_! Oh, Colonel, just think! Claire will have her mother again. You can't think how a person wants her mother. It doesn't matter how many other people are good to you no one is like a mother. I am sure this is so, because you know _my_ mother is dead, and I feel so lonely and empty, even when I have my grandmother and Cita and Uncle Bob. Somehow nobody's shoulder feels the same as a mother's. My mother died when I was a baby, but I know it, just the same." Tears started to Colonel Maslin's eyes as he listened to the brave, uncomplaining little girl. "You are quite right, my dear," he said. "And I pray that your doctor will give Claire's mother back to her. If she is cured, it will be your gift. Not one of the specialists we have had ever discovered the piece of bone pressing on her brain." "She will be well," declared Rosanna. "I wish the operation was all over with." She wished it more than ever the next day when they swallowed a heavy apology for a breakfast and drove to the hospital where Mrs. Maslin had been taken. Rosanna will never to the end of her days be able to look at certain magazines without a shudder. The two girls sat or walked restlessly around the bare waiting-room, turned over the pages of the periodicals on the prim table, or gazed silently out of the window where they could see the usually impassive and unmoved Chang pacing restlessly up and down beside the limousine. Occasionally Colonel Maslin came in, made a brief comment, and dashed out again. Each time he left Claire whispered, "Poor father!" little guessing that her father, rushing back to the operating-room, was whispering to himself, "Poor Claire! My poor baby!" Somehow or other time dragged on, the anxiety growing with every moment until at last, looking more haggard than ever, Colonel Maslin entered and took his daughter in his arms. "It is over, darling," he said huskily. "It was very bad. She may not live. You must be brave. She is coming out of the ether, and the doctor wants us to be with her when she becomes conscious. Can you be _quite_ calm and natural?" "You know that I can," said Claire quietly. "Come, dad!" They left the room and Rosanna, forgotten, clasped her hands passionately. "Oh, _please_ save her! _Please_ make her well! Claire _needs_ her mother," she prayed over and over. In the silent room upstairs Claire caught a blurred impression of whiteness and watchfulness. Her mother's bloodless hand lay on the counterpane and a doctor watched the fluttering pulse. Another doctor stood ready to administer an injection in case the feeble heart should fail. A couple of nurses moved swiftly but noiselessly here and there. They made way for the man and girl and beckoned them close to the bed. Colonel Maslin dropped on one knee and standing with her arm around his neck, Claire looked at her mother whom she had not seen for so long. Her head was closely bandaged, but oh, how beautiful and how dear she was! After what seemed an endless time there was a flutter of the white eye-lids, and they lifted slowly. For a moment the beautiful eyes stared blankly. Hope died in Claire's heart. Then the weary eyes found them, looked at the Colonel, studied Claire in a curious way, and then seemed to embrace them both. A faint smile flickered across the face, and a faint whisper trembled on the air. "My two sweethearts!" Mrs. Maslin said, and as though even that was too great a tax drifted off into unconsciousness again. "She is all right," said Doctor Branshaw. "Better go now, Maslin. I will see you downstairs." Tears were pouring down the Colonel's face as he rose and with a long, adoring look at his wife, left the room, Claire clinging to his hand. But out in the long corridor, the door safely closed behind them, Claire gave a deep sigh and quietly fainted. The Colonel picked his daughter up, turned into the first unoccupied room and laid her on the bed. Then he hurried after a nurse. When Claire came to herself, Rosanna, rather pale, was holding her hand. She was trying to swallow something bitter, and her father stood near her, looking as though he was to blame. "Oh, I am _so_ sorry, daddy!" she said as soon as she could speak. "I feel all right. What a silly thing for me to do! How is mother?" "If you are going to behave yourself now, dear, I will go and see," said Colonel Maslin. He kissed her and hurried off. Claire, feeling strangely weak but so happy, turned to Rosanna. "She knew us!" she said. "She knew us both, and now, even if she dies, I will always have that to remember." "She will not die!" Rosanna declared for the hundredth time. "There are worse cases than your mother's," said the nurse comfortingly. "If she stands the shock, she will be all right, and I am sure she will. Don't you worry or think she is not going to be well. You want to send thoughts of courage and strength to her instead of thinking that she must die." "That sounds like some of the new religions," said Rosanna. "It is not," said the nurse. "It is just plain common sense. Just you try it!" "I don't need to," said Rosanna. "I know Mrs. Maslin will get well, and Claire will know so, too, when she gets over being frightened." Claire did get over being frightened, although for many days her mother's life hung by a thread. They stayed at the nearest hotel, and as Colonel Maslin had been given leave of absence they had the comfort of his presence. As time went on and it became a certainty that Mrs. Maslin would live and be her own self again, Claire was allowed to see her mother. At first her visits were limited to a skimpy five minutes once a day, spent under the eyes of a stern nurse who watched the time and put her out without mercy. But as the days wore by and the invalid grew stronger, Claire was allowed to spend many happy hours with her mother. Came a day when the Colonel was obliged to return to duty. And after a talk with her mother Claire went with him, Rosanna of course accompanying them. Rosanna had had a good time after the first period of worry, during which she never left Claire for a half hour. And Claire was grateful. Rosanna did not guess how grateful. She did not guess how often Claire talked to her mother and father about the Girl Scout's loyalty and devotion. And Claire was naturally so quiet that it was hard for her to tell Rosanna just what she thought about it all. But Rosanna did not mind. She knew without words what her companionship had meant to Claire during her time of trial. Rosanna knew from that strange inner source that tells us so much and leads us so unerringly that she had done right to give up the chance to see the Ports of the World. And she was glad. Her sacrifice had proved to her, at least, that being a Girl Scout meant more than the happy companionship along the woodland ways in summer, or the friendly striving for merits in winter. One little thing worried her: her task was to be finished sooner than she had thought. When Claire's mother came home, Rosanna did not want to be there. For one thing, she wisely felt that Mrs. Maslin would want Claire all to herself, and she knew that Claire would have no time or thought to give anyone else, even a friend as well loved as Rosanna knew herself to be. Rosanna did not know where to go. The Hargraves had gone down to the old home in Lexington; Mrs. Culver and Helen were visiting in Akron, Ohio. Rosanna thought harder and harder as the days passed, and the bulletins from the hospital grew better and more encouraging. At last the doctor actually set a date. In three days Claire could have her mother. She was to come home slowly and carefully in the limousine. And there must be weeks and weeks of unbroken rest in her own home, with her devoted husband and loving child and the adoring Chang to anticipate every wish. Then Rosanna had an inspiration. Her old nurse and maid, Minnie, was married and living with her nice, hard-working young husband in a rose-covered cottage in the Highlands. Rosanna knew that they would both be perfectly delighted to receive her. She closed the book she was reading and went to the telephone. As she reached it, the bell jingled. "Hello!" she said listlessly. A voice vaguely familiar answered, "Is Miss Rosanna Horton there?" "This is Rosanna," said she. There was a slight pause, then the voice said in a queer _mincy_ way, "Oh, yes, Miss Rosanna Horton. Well, can you tell me, please, where Mr. Robert Horton is?" "He is in France," said Rosanna. "Are you _sure_?" said the voice. "I heard that he had returned to this country on business and was here in Louisville. I heard he had come to see a niece of his." Rosanna had heard enough. She commenced to jump up and down. "Oh, Uncle Robert, Uncle Bobby, where are you? Oh, hurry, hurry!" "All right, sweetness," said Uncle Bob in his own voice. "I am right behind the house in the garage. I thought I would let you down easy." Rosanna did not hear anything after "garage." She dropped the receiver, went through the house like a whirlwind, and was clasped in Uncle Robert's arms, where it must be confessed she shed some real and comforting tears. Rosanna's sacrifice had not been so very easy, you know. CHAPTER XV Uncle Bob had very little to say until Colonel Maslin came in and they gathered around the dinner table. Then, with a smile, he commenced his little story. "Rosanna has been asking me about a million questions. It would take a week or so, hard labor, to answer them all, and then Colonel Maslin and Claire would want to hear about things, so I will make my little speech now. "We were all settled for the summer in a beautiful old place in the older part of Paris. Just the sort of a place you would love, Rosanna--high walls, and a park with sheep cropping the grass, and woods, and all that. Deer, too. It's too bad you are not there." Rosanna flushed. "I don't mind, Uncle Bob," she said, and Claire squeezed her hand. "Well," continued Uncle Bob, "Culver's invention is a bigger thing than we thought, and we thought it was pretty big. I was being worked to death with meetings and presentations and contracts, and all that. It is the one thing that commercial Europe needs today, and there was more work than I could carry. "Besides that, there was a lot of blueprints, material and so on that I needed, and I wanted to get a look at Rosanna here. I'll say, sweetness, that your poor old Uncle Bob missed you something scandalous! So as long as I had to come as far as New York I thought I would run along and see you all. "Culver is going back with me. He is the one man to help out over there, and it is too much for me. Besides," he added abruptly, "I thought if she didn't have any pressing engagement on hand, I would take Rosanna back with me." "Oh, Uncle Bob!" cried Rosanna. "It is too good to be true! Are you truly in earnest?" It was almost what Rosanna had said months before when Mr. Robert had first announced the trip, and he must have remembered it, because with a smile he answered, "Hope to live and _haf_ to die, Rosanna!" and Rosanna seemed satisfied. "Oh, Rosanna, I am _so_ glad!" cried Claire. "You have been so good to me, and now you will still have your good time, only it will be much better because you have been so good to me. I am so glad, and mother will be so glad too when I tell her. Do you know about my mother, Mr. Horton?" "Your father told me this afternoon. We met downtown, and I congratulate you with all my heart." "It is all due to Rosanna," said Claire softly. "Not one of the specialists or doctors discovered anything wrong with her skull, and I was so young when she fell from her horse that I never once connected it with her trouble. I should think you would be the next happiest girl in the world, Rosanna. _I_ am the happiest." "I am very, very happy," confessed Rosanna. "It seems too good to be true that I am to go to France and the other places after all, and it is so good to go and remember what a happy summer you are having with your mother. I wish Helen Culver was here, so I could tell her how fortunate I am." "You won't see her until you reach New York," said Uncle Bob with a twinkle in his eye, but looking very severely at the end of his cigarette. "New York!" stammered Rosanna. "That's right; I forgot to mention that she is going with us." Rosanna leaned back in her chair and gasped. "Uh, huh," said Uncle Bob. "Mrs. Culver wants to stay with her sister who is seriously ill, and so poor Helen will have to go with us." "Oh, my!" gasped Rosanna. "Everything is settled," said Uncle Bob. "Oh, my!" said Rosanna again. "When do we go?" "It will take me about a week to get ready," said Uncle Bob. "As soon as you can get packed, Rosanna, you may come down to the Seelbach with me. I know Claire will have a lot to do to get ready for her mother. I notice whenever any of our family goes away and gets ready to come back, it is a signal for a mad bout of housecleaning. Everything the poor innocent absentee has or owns is torn up and hung out on the line, and beaten and dusted, and sent to the cleaners. And then all the chairs are set in new places so you don't dare come in in the dark and throw yourself down on your favorite divan, because it isn't there. Perhaps a tea-wagon full of china catches you or a frail, skiddy smoking stand, but the divan is gone." Everyone laughed. "You _are_ abused," said Rosanna. "It is true," persisted Uncle Robert. "And when the absent one comes in, everyone stands around waiting to hear him or her say, 'Oh, my, how nice it looks.' Anyway, Rosanna, you come down and join me, and as soon as we hear from Culver, who has already gone to see his family, we will be off for New York. It will be hot traveling." "I won't mind," said Rosanna, "and you really don't need me any longer, Claire, dear, and I think you ought to have your mother all to yourself." "She will have to be very quiet for a good while," said Colonel Maslin, "but we won't mind that. Just to see her here or, if she is resting, to know that she is with us, will be happiness enough for us." "I should think so!" said Rosanna. "Well, Uncle Bobby, I will come down tomorrow, and you can commence by taking me to the movies." "Hear that?" cried Mr. Horton. "Indeed, your grandmother said, says she, 'Robert,' she says, 'see that Rosanna goes to bed at sharp seven every night. And also,' says she, 'no movies, or ice-cream sodas, or such!'" "That sounds so like grandmother!" laughed Rosanna. "Well, I will see about things. Oh, Claire, dinner is over, let's go start packing now. I am _so_ excited!" The girls excused themselves and raced upstairs, where Rosanna commenced laying things in neat piles on the divan to be placed in her trunk the first thing in the morning. There was a good deal to do the next day. Cita had sent a list of things she wanted Rosanna to see about, and Mrs. Horton had gone off without her favorite pair of glasses which she thought might be found in one of a number of places she named. So the house had to be opened, and Rosanna found the glasses, not in any of the places mentioned, but on the telephone stand where Mrs. Horton usually lost them. But as Rosanna looked there first, it really didn't matter. She reached the Seelbach just in time to dress for dinner. It was great fun. Uncle Bob sent up word that he would meet her at half-past six and Rosanna, feeling thrilled and grown up, finished dressing and sat down to wait. When Mr. Horton came in, he brought a little box with a bunch of sweet peas for Rosanna to wear. He was that kind of a man. Time did not hang heavily on Rosanna's hands for the next few days. She spent one day with Mabel, and another in Lexington with Elise Hargrave. Uncle Bob made but one rule, and that was an ironclad one. She must lie down for an hour each day. Uncle Bob did not want to start across the ocean with a worn-out little girl. Jane and Estella came to see her, and there was talk of a picnic on Bald Mountain, but there was no time to put it through. One afternoon Rosanna gave a tea. It was a Girl Scout tea and was suggested by Uncle Bob, who seemed able to attend to an enormous amount of business and run the affairs of a little girl as well. It was served in the sitting-room that Rosanna and Uncle Bob shared. Elise came up from Lexington, and Rosanna found that about fifteen of their Troop were still in the city. The hotel people set a very pretty table for her, and Uncle Robert came in at noon with a box which he himself carefully opened. Inside were rows of tiny kewpie dolls dressed like little Girl Scouts. Rosanna was delighted. "They just need one thing," said Uncle Robert, getting out his fountain pen and carefully inking some little dots on their sleeves. "There!" he exclaimed when the deed was done. "Any Girl Scouts of _mine_ must have Merit badges." Every one came, and after the first little stiffness it was a great success, especially when Uncle Robert came in bringing Colonel Maslin with him. You wouldn't believe how nice two grown men could be to a lot of Girl Scouts. Jane was the first to say she must go. "We will see you tomorrow," she said, but Uncle Bob shook his head. "It is good-bye today," he explained. "I am through with the business that brought me over on this side, and we will take the 8:40 through train tonight for the East, if Rosanna can get ready." "I can be ready in an hour!" cried Rosanna. "Especially if Claire will stay and help me." Claire looked at her father. "Of course I will help you, Rosanna dear, but I must go home first. Is the car here, dad?" "Yes; I thought we could take some of these young ladies home," said the Colonel. "And I will take the rest," offered Mr. Horton. There was a gust of good-byes and good wishes, and Rosanna was alone. It was almost six o'clock. Rosanna had kept her trunk nearly packed, and by the time Claire returned the things that had been in her dresser were laid on the bed ready to put in the trays. Claire brought her a gorgeous embroidered kimono, a good-bye present from Mrs. Maslin. Just the loveliest thing to wear to the dressing-room, thought Rosanna, revelling in its deep color and beautiful handwork. The girls worked swiftly, and before Uncle Bob returned for dinner everything was ready, even to Rosanna's coat and hat and gloves and little change purse. She had put on her plain pongee traveling dress, fine cotton stockings that exactly matched her brown oxfords with their sensible low heels, and looked every inch a well-dressed traveler. Everything was simple and there were no tag ends, ribbons or floating lace collars to get mussed and untidy. After dinner Uncle Bob excused himself to attend to some last things, and Claire and Rosanna returned to the rooms. There was an empty-looking spot where Rosanna's trunk had stood. Rosanna gave a last look at her things on the bed. Hat, coat, gloves, purse, suitcase; all there. "Oh, _do_ come into the sitting-room!" cried Claire. "Everything is as all right as you can make it. Dad and Mr. Horton will be coming in before you know it, and there is something I want to tell you." "Something nice?" asked Rosanna, following Claire into the sitting-room, and curling up in the big armchair she had wheeled around to face its mate. "I hope so," said Claire with a queer little smile. "Now, Rosanna, I want you to promise on your Scout Honor that you will not interrupt me." "Word of honor!" promised Rosanna. "Remember!" warned Claire. "Well, there was once a girl, a Girl Scout, who was very troubled and unhappy. And she had a _perfectly horrid_ disposition and every time she went into a tantrum or had the blues she excused herself by thinking that because her dear mother was thought to be insane, she was going to be so too, and she never tried to control herself. She wouldn't make friends, and 'most _hated_ other girls because she thought they were so much luckier than she was. Oh, Rosanna, she treated her darling daddy just awfully. She feels so ashamed when she thinks of it." Rosanna opened her mouth, but Claire laid her hand over it. "Remember!" she warned. "So she met, through the Girl Scouts, a girl who tried to be her friend. And the bad, sad girl grew to see how much better it was to be gentle and keep her temper under control. Then one day Rosanna--for that was the nice girl's name--discovered the reason why this girl's mother was sick and why her poor head had gone wrong. She found out why Claire's mother could not speak or remember anything and why she sat all day and stared and stared into space, and never knew her little girl any more. "Well, anyway, now Claire's mother is _well_, all _well_, and just as sweet and bright and loving as ever, and _so_ happy! But surely not so happy as Claire is to have her mother back. "And once, Rosanna, a wise old man who must have looked into the future, gave Claire a gold box to give to the one who should give to Claire a 'gift beyond price.' My mother is that, Rosanna. The Mandarin's box is yours!" Claire drew a packet from her pocket and laid it in Rosanna's lap. Rosanna clasped her hands over it. "Oh, Claire!" was all she could say at first. Then, "But it was the doctor's operation that cured her; it belongs to him." Claire shook her red head and smiled. "No, it is yours by rights. All the doctors failed to discover the injury to her head. The box is yours, dear, dear Rosanna! Open it and see what the old Mandarin has hidden there." Rosanna undid the paper and exclaimed over the wonderful carven casket. But Claire urged her to open the box, and with a nail file Rosanna broke the fine cords that held the seal. She pressed the tiny knob on the front, and the glittering cover sprang open. A little object wrapped in silk lay inside. It proved to be a queer carved figure seated on a sort of stool. It was exquisitely colored and overlaid in parts with gold leaf, and the funny brown face wore a beaming smile. A large cloak of gold leaf enveloped it, and this had a ruby set in the front like a large clasp. "I know that figure," said Claire. "It is the god of good luck. I can't remember his name." "See the way that cunning cloak or robe is fastened with a jewel," said Rosanna, fingering the ruby. There was a little click, and the cloak parted and flew open, disclosing in the unexpected hiding-place another small carved box. With trembling fingers Rosanna opened it. There, inside, rested the mate to the beautiful jade ring that Claire always wore. "Oh, how lovely! How perfectly lovely!" cried Rosanna. "Just like yours! Oh, I have always almost envied you that gorgeous ring." "If it is like mine, there is another surprise in store for you," said Claire, taking the jewel in her hands and pressing on the stone with a swift turning motion. Sure enough the stone raised on tiny hidden springs, and disclosed an opening or socket about the size of a silver three-cent piece. "What is that for?" asked Rosanna. "We don't know, but dad thinks these rings are royal, and this place was made for a single dose of poison to be concealed in case the wearer was going to be tortured or something like that. But I don't like to think of anything so horrid. I keep mother's picture in mine." She opened the ring, and showed a tiny colored miniature of her mother. "It is too perfect!" sighed Rosanna. "There is one thing I hope you will never forget, Rosanna," said Claire, "and that is why the Mandarin gave you the box. Just to thank you, you know, because you have given me a gift beyond price. This is what has come of your sacrifice. I wish I could tell the old Mandarin about it." "I will if I see him," laughed Rosanna. Just as the train started off with Uncle Bob and Rosanna, Claire threw her arms around Rosanna's neck and whispered, "Oh, Rosanna, you _do_ know that I love you, and thank you with every breath, don't you?" "You thank me too much, dear Claire," said Rosanna, "and I love you too." The whistle blew, the conductor waved his arms and called, "All aboard!" Rosanna threw kisses after Colonel Maslin and Claire as they fell behind. They rolled slowly out of the city. Night fell. The white-jacketed porter went up and down the aisle looking his charges over. He pounced on Rosanna's hat and put it in a paper bag. Rosanna scarcely noticed. Nothing about her seemed real. The jarring train, the lights, the people, all seemed like a dream. Yet it was real, and she, Rosanna, was moving eastward, ever eastward to her grandmother, to Cita, to dear Helen, and the Ports of the World! THE END 
38018	----	produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) [Illustration: Finally they found better going along a narrow ledge] Girl Scouts in the Rockies Lillian Elizabeth Roy 1921 CONTENTS CHAPTER ONE--OUTFITTING FOR THE TRIP CHAPTER TWO--VIA A "PRAIRIE SCHOONER" CHAPTER THREE--JULIE'S STRANGE EXPERIENCE CHAPTER FOUR--GOING UP! CHAPTER FIVE--HITTING THE TRAIL CHAPTER SIX--A MULE'S PLEASANTRIES CHAPTER SEVEN--TALLY AND OMNEY ENTERTAIN CHAPTER EIGHT--SCRUB'S UNEXPECTED HUNTING TRIP CHAPTER NINE--A THRILLING CANOE TRIP CHAPTER TEN--JULIE AND JOAN'S PREDICAMENT CHAPTER ELEVEN--ON TO FLAT TOP MOUNTAIN CHAPTER TWELVE--LOST IN A BLIZZARD CHAPTER THIRTEEN--A FOREST FIRE CHAPTER FOURTEEN--LOST IN THE BAD LANDS CHAPTER FIFTEEN--BACK-TRAILING TO DENVER CHAPTER ONE OUTFITTING FOR THE TRIP "Girls, this is our third Summer as the Dandelion Troop of Girl Scouts,--do you realize that fact?" commented Mrs. Vernon, generally called "Verny" by the girls, or "Captain" by her friends. "That first Summer in camp seems like mere child's play now, Verny," returned Juliet Lee, known as "Julie" or just "Jule" by her intimates. "That really wasn't camping, at all,--what with all the cooked food our families were bringing weekly to us, and the other housekeeping equipment they brought that day in the 'furniture shower,'" Joan Allison added, giggling as she remembered the incident. "But last Summer in the Adirondacks was real camping!" declared Ruth Bentley, nodding her head emphatically. "Yes. Still it wasn't anything like this year's camping experience promises to be,--in the Rocky Mountains," replied Mrs. Vernon. "Mr. Gilroy furnished the tents and cots and other heavy camping things last summer, but this year we will have to do without such luxuries." "We don't care what we have to do without, Verny, because we are so thankful to be here at all!" exclaimed Anne Bailey, who was one of the five additional scout members admitted to the circle of the four founders of Dandelion Troop the preceding summer. "I'm so sorry the other girls can't be with us this trip," remarked Julie, who was Scout Leader of the troop. "It's a shame that Amy's mother treats her as if she were a babe. Why, this sort of trip is exactly what the girl needs to help her get rid of her nerves," said Joan. "Yes; didn't every one say how well she was after last summer's camp in the Adirondacks?" added Ruth Bentley. "Poor Amy, she'll have to stay home now, and hear her mother worry about her all summer," sighed Betty Lee, Julie's sister. "Well, I am not wasting sympathy on Amy, when dear old Hester needs all of it. The way that girl pitched in and helped earn the family bread when her father died last winter, is courageous, say I!" declared Julie. "We all think that, Julie. And not a word of regret out of her when she found we were coming away, with Gilly, to the Rockies," added Joan. "Dear old pal! We must be sure to write her regularly, and send her souvenirs from our different stopping-places," said Mrs. Vernon, with tears glistening in her eyes for Hester's sacrifice. "If Julie hadn't been my sister, I'm sure Mrs. Blake would have frightened May into keeping me home," announced Betty. "When she told sister May of all the terrible things that might happen to us in the Rockies, Julie just sat and laughed aloud. Mrs. Blake was real angry at that, and said, 'Well, May, if your mother was living _she'd_ never allow her dear little girls to risk their lives on such a trip.'" Julie smiled and added, "I told Mrs. Blake, then and there, that mother would be delighted to give us the opportunity, and so would any sensible mother if she knew what such a trip meant! Mrs. Blake jumped up then, and said, I'm sure I'm as sensible as any one, but I wouldn't _think_ of letting Judith and Edith take this trip.'" "I guess it pays to be as healthy as I am," laughed Anne Bailey, who was nicknamed the "heavyweight scout," "'cause no one said I was too nervous to come, or too delicate to stand this outing." The other scouts laughed approvingly at Anne's rosy cheeks and abundant fine health. The foregoing conversation between Mrs. Vernon and five girl scouts took place on a train that had left Chicago, and Mr. Vernon, the day before. He had had personal business to attend to at that city, and so stopped over for a few days, promising to join the Dandelion Troop at Denver in good time to start on the Rocky Mountain trip. "It's perfectly lovely, Verny, to think Uncle is to be one of our party this summer," remarked Joan. "He and Mr. Gilroy seem to get on so wonderfully, don't they?" "Yes, and Mr. Gilroy's knowledge of camping in the Rockies, combined with Uncle's being with us, lightens much of the responsibility I felt for taking you all on this outing," answered Mrs. Vernon. "It will seem ages for us to kill time about Denver when we're so anxious to get away to the mountains," said Julie. "But there's plenty to do in that marvelous city; and lots of short trips to take that will prove very interesting," returned the Captain. "Besides, we will have to get a number of items to add to our outfits," suggested Ruth. "That reminds me, girls; the paper Uncle gave me as he was about to leave the train is a memo Mr. Gilroy sent, about what to take with us for this jaunt. Shall I read it to you now?" asked Mrs. Vernon. "Oh yes, do!" chorused the girlish voices; so Mrs. Vernon opened the page which had been torn from a letter addressed to Mr. Vernon by Mr. Gilroy. Then she began reading: "About taking baggage and outfit for this trip in the Rockies, let me give you all a bit of advice. Remember this important point when considering your wardrobe, etc.,--that we will be on the move most of the time, and so every one must learn how to do _without_ things. We must travel as the guides and trappers do--very 'light.' To know when you are 'traveling light' follow this rule: "First, make a pyramid of everything you think you must take for use during the summer, excluding the camp outfit, which my man will look out for at Denver. "Next, inventory the items you have in the heap. Study the list earnestly and cross out anything that is not an actual necessity. Take the articles eliminated from the heap, throw them behind your back, and pile up the items that are left. "Then, list the remainder in the new pyramid, and go over this most carefully. Cast out everything that you have the least doubt about there being an imperative need of. Toss such items behind you, and then gather the much smaller pyramid together again. "Now, forget all your past and present needs, all that civilized life claims you should use for wear, or camp, or sleep, and remove everything from the pyramid excepting such articles as you believe you would have to have to secure a living on a desert island. If you have done this problem well, you ought to have a list on hand, after the third elimination, about as follows: "A felt hat with brim to shed the rain and to shade your eyes from the sun; a good all-wool sweater; winter-weight woolen undergarments that will not chill you when they are dripping with water that is sweated out from within, or soaked through from without; two or three large handkerchiefs, one of silk to use for the head, neck, or other parts of the body in case of need; three pairs of heather stockings,--one pair for day use, one pair to wear at night when it is cold, and the third pair to keep for extra need; high boots--one pair to wear and one to carry; two soft silk shirts--shirt-waists for you girls; a _pure wool_ army blanket; one good rubber blanket; a toothbrush, hairbrush and comb, but no other toilet articles. Be sure to have the girl-scout axe, a steel-bladed sheath knife, a _compass_, the scout pocket-knife, fishing tackle, and a _gun_. (More about this gun hereafter, girls.) "Now, being girl scouts, you will naturally wear the approved scout uniform. If possible, have this made up in good wiry serge that will shed dust and other things, along the trail. You will want a good strong riding-habit, and two pairs of silk rubber bloomers, the latter because of their thin texture and protection against moisture. "Wear a complete outfit, and then pack your extras in the blanket; roll the bundle in the rubber blanket, and buckle two straps about the roll. Then slip this in the duffel-bag, and you are ready. "About the gun. Don't let your parents have a panic over the item mentioned. You girls had excellent target practice all last winter, so the fact of your carrying a rifle on this trip should not unduly excite any one. In the Rockies, a gun is as necessary as an axe or knife, and no one incurs a risk from carrying such a weapon unless he is careless. Being trained scouts, with experience back of you, you will be perfectly safe on this outing even though you do carry a rifle. "An old Indian guide that I had some years ago, sent word that he would be happy to give us his time for the summer. So he will attend to all the camping needs,--utensils and canvas and horses, for the trip. I told him that we would have a party of girls with us this time, and he smiled when he said he would have to add needle and thread, cold cream, and such requisites to his list." "There, girls," continued Mrs. Vernon, when she had concluded the reading of Mr. Gilroy's instructions, "that is about all Gilly said about the outfit. But I knew we had conformed to most of these requirements already, so there is nothing more to do about it. When we go over the duffel-bags in Denver, Gilly may ask you scouts to throw out your manicure cases, or whimsical little things you deem an absolute necessity now, and several articles of wear that you think you must take, but, otherwise, we are ready to 'travel light,' as he says." "Shan't we take our sleeping-bags, Verny?" asked Ruth. "Gilly doesn't say a word about them, so I don't know whether he forgot them, or thought you left them home." "I wonder what sort of an outfit the guide will take?" remarked Julie. "Aluminum-ware for cooking, and a cup, plate, and cutlery for each member of the party, Uncle Vernon said," answered Mrs. Vernon. Just before reaching Denver, Mrs. Vernon asked of the eager scouts, "Did you girls read the books I mentioned, to become familiar with this wonderful country through which we are going to travel?" "I read all I could, and I'm sure the other girls did, too, because every time I asked for one of those books at the Public Library I was informed it was out. Upon investigation, I learned that one or the other of Dandelion Troop was reading it," laughed Julie. "Well, then, you learned that Colorado can boast of more than fifty mountain peaks, each three miles or more in height; a hundred or so nearly that high. And between these peaks can be found the wildest gorges, most fertile valleys and plains, that any state in the Union can boast. "And because of these great peaks with their snow-capped summits, many of which are snowy all the year round, the flow of water from the melting snows furnishes the many scenic streams that give moisture to the plains; which in turn produce the best crops in the West. "But the plains and valleys were not the attraction that first brought pioneers to Colorado. It was the gold and silver hidden in the mountains, and the upthrust of valuable ore from the sides of the canyons and gulches that was the magnet which caused mankind to swarm to this state. Thus, you see, it became generally populated, the mountainous, as well as the ranch sections." While riding westward from Chicago, the gradual rise of the country failed to impress the scouts, so they were all the more surprised when Mrs. Vernon exclaimed, "I verily believe I am the first to see Pike's Peak, girls!" "Oh, where? where?" chorused the scouts, crowding to the windows on the side of the train where the Captain sat. "Away off there--where you see those banks of shadowy clouds! There is one cloud that stands out more distinctly than its companions--that's it," replied the Captain. "Oh, Verny, that's not a peak!" laughed Joan. "Of course not! That's only a darker cloud than usual," added Julie, while the other scouts laughed at their Captain's faulty eyesight. Mrs. Vernon smiled, but kept her own counsel, and half an hour later the girls began to squint, then to doubt whether their hasty judgment had been correct, and finally to admit that their guide and teacher had been quite right! They saw the outline of a point that thrust itself above the hanging clouds which hid its sides in vapor, and the point that stood clearly defined against the sky was Pike's Peak! "But it isn't snow-clad, and it isn't a bit beautiful!" cried Ruth in disappointment. "Still it is the first Rocky Mountain peak we have seen," Betty Lee mildly added. "Scouts, this is known as 'The Pike's Peak Region,'" read Julie from a guide-book. "It ought to be called 'Pike's Bleak Region,'" grumbled Anne. "I never saw such yellow soil, with nothing but tufts of grass, dwarfed bushes, and twisted little trees growing everywhere." Mrs. Vernon laughed. "Anne, those tufts are buffalo grass, which makes such fine grazing for cattle; and your dwarfed bushes are the famous sage-brush, while the twisted trees are cottonwoods." "Oh, are they, really?" exclaimed Anne, now seeing these things with the same eyes but from a changed mental viewpoint. "And notice, girls, how exhilarating the air is. Have you ever felt like this before--as if you could hike as far as the Continental Range without feeling weary?" questioned Mrs. Vernon. When the train pulled in at Denver, Mr. Gilroy was waiting, and soon the scouts were taken to the hotel where he had engaged accommodations for the party. "Don't say a word until you have washed away some of that alkali dust and brushed your clothes. Then we will go out to view the village," laughed he, when the girls plied him with questions. But the scouts wasted no time needlessly over their toilets, and soon were down in the lobby again, eager for his plans. "Now I'll tell you what Uncle wired me from Chicago to-day," began Mr. Gilroy, when all were together. "He'll be there three days longer, so we've almost five days to kill before meeting him at this hotel." "I've engaged two good touring cars, and as soon as you approve of the plan, we will start out and see the city. To-morrow morning, early, we will motor to Colorado City and visit Hot Springs, and all the points of interest in that section. Then we can return by a different route and embrace dear old Uncle, who will be waiting for us. How about it?" "How needless to ask!" exclaimed Mrs. Vernon, when the chorus of delight had somewhat subsided. Mr. Gilroy laughed. "Come on, then! Bottle up the news, and stories of crime you experienced on the way West from New York, until we are _en route_ to Colorado Springs. Then you can swamp me with it all," said he. So that day they visited the city of Denver, which gave the scouts much to see and talk about, for this wonderful city is an example of western thrift, ambition, and solid progress. Early the following morning, the touring party started in the two machines to spend a few days at Colorado Springs. Without loss of time they drove to the famous Hot Springs, and then on through the picturesque estate of General Palmer, the founder of Colorado City. His place was copied after the well-known English castle Blenheim, and Julie was deeply impressed with the architecture of the building. "Girls, to-morrow morning I want you to see the sun rise from the vantage point of Pike's Peak, so we won't climb that to-day. But we will go to Manitou, where the setting sun casts long-fingered shadows into the ravines, turning everything to fairy colors," said Mr. Gilroy. The scouts were awed into silence at the grandeur of the scenery they beheld, and Mr. Gilroy said, "The Ute Indians used to come to the Manitou Waters for healing, you know. To-morrow, on your way down from the Peak, we will stop at the Ute Pass. But I want you to see the marvelous feat of engineering in this modern day that has made an auto drive to the top of Pike's Peak a possibility." So very early the next morning the scouts were called, and after a hurried breakfast started out in the cars for the Peak. Having driven over the fine auto road, recently completed, to the top of the Peak, they got out to watch the sunrise. This was truly a sight worth working for. From the Peak they could see over an expanse of sixty thousand square miles of country, and when the rays of the sun began to touch up with silver places here and there on this vast stretch, the scene was most impressive. After leaving Pike's Peak, Mr. Gilroy told the chauffeur to drive to the Ute Pass. That same day the girls visited the scenic marvels of the Garden of the Gods, the Cave of the Winds, Crystal Park, and other places. They dined at the "Hidden Inn," which was a copy of one of the Pueblo cliff-dwellings of the Mesa Verde. This Inn is built against a cliff, and is most picturesque with its Indian collection of trophies and decorations after the Pueblo people's ideals. They visited William's Canyon and the Narrows, with its marvelous, painted cliffs of red, purple, and green; and went to Cheyenne Mountain and the canyon with its beautiful "Seven Falls." Other places that Mr. Gilroy knew of but that were seldom listed in the guidebooks because they were out of the way, were visited and admired. The last day of their visit to Colorado City, they all took the railroad train and went to Cripple Creek. The train wound over awesome heights, through rifts in cliffs, and past marvelously colored walls of rock, and so on to the place where more gold is mined than at any other spot in the world. That night the scouts returned to the hotel at Colorado City well tired out, but satisfied with the touring they had accomplished in the time they had been in Colorado. In the morning they said good-bye to the gorgeous places in Pike's Peak Park and headed again for Denver. A splendid road led through Pike View, where the best views of Pike's Peak can be had. Then they passed the queer formation of rock called "Monument Park," and on still further they came to a palisade of white chalk, more than a thousand feet wide and one-fifth that in height, that was known as Casa Blanca. Castle Rock was the next place of interest passed. It is said to be a thousand feet higher than Denver. Then several picturesque little towns were passed by, and at last Fort Logan was reached. As an army post this spot interested the scouts, but Mr. Gilroy gave them no time to watch the good-looking young officers, but sped them on past Loretto, Overland, and Denver Mile, finally into Denver again. As they drove into the city, Mr. Gilroy explained why he had to hurry them. "You see, this is almost the middle of June, and I am supposed to return from the mountains in September with reports and specimens for the Government. "Few people tarry in the Rockies after September, as the weather is unbearable for 'Tenderfeet.' So I have to get through my work before that time. Besides, Uncle Vernon is probably now awaiting us at the hotel, and he must not be left to wander about alone, or we may lose him." "When can we start for the Rockies, Gilly?" eagerly asked Julie, voicing the cry of all the other scouts. "As soon as the Indian guide gives us the 'high sign,'" replied Mr. Gilroy. "About when will that be?" insisted Julie. "Where is he now, Gilly?" added Ruth. "I suppose he is in Denver waiting for us, but we can tell better after we see Uncle. I wired him to meet Tally there and complete any arrangements necessary to our immediate departure from Denver the day after we get back there." "I hope the guide's name is easier to say than Yhon's was last summer," laughed Mrs. Vernon. "The only name I have ever given him is 'Tally'; but his correct name has about ninety-nine letters in it and when pronounced it sounds something like Talitheachee-choolee. Now can you blame me for quickly abbreviating it to Tally?" laughed Mr. Gilroy. "I should say not!" laughed the girls, and Julie added, "Ho, Tally is great! It will constantly remind the scouts to keep their records up to date." Mr. Vernon was found at the hotel, comfortably ensconced in a huge leather chair. He pretended to be fast asleep, but was soon roused when the lively scouts fell upon him in their endeavor to tell him how glad they were to see him again. "Spare me, I beg, and I will lead you to the nicest meal you ever tasted!" cried he, gasping. Mr. Gilroy laughed and added, "You'd better, for it's Tally, and wild Indian cooking hereafter, for three months!" "That threat holds no fears for us brave scouts," retorted the Corporal. The girls followed quickly after Mr. Vernon, just the same, when he led the way to the dining-room. Here he had his party seated in a quiet corner, and then he reported to Mr. Gilroy all he had done since he landed in Denver in the morning. "I have the surprise of the season for the scouts, I'm thinking," began Mr. Vernon, smiling at the eager faces of the girls. "Have you formed _any_ idea of how we are going to travel to the Divide?" Even Mr. Gilroy wondered what his friend meant, for he had asked Tally to secure the best horses possible in Denver. And the scouts shook their heads to denote that they were at sea. Mrs. Vernon laughed, "Not on foot, I trust!" "No, indeed, my dear! Not with shoe leather costing what it does since the war," retorted Mr. Vernon. "We all give up,--tell us!" demanded his wife. "First I have to tell you a tale,--for thereby hangs the rest of it. "You see, Tally came here first thing this morning, and when I came in from my train, which was an hour late from Chicago, he greeted me. I hadn't the faintest idea who he was until after the clerk gave me the wire from Gilly, then I saluted as reverently as he had done. Finally his story was told. "It seems 'Mee'sr Gil'loy' told Tally to get outfit and all the horses, including two mules for pack-animals (although I never knew until Tally told me, that mules were horses). And poor Tally was in an awful way because he couldn't find a horse worth shucks in the city of Denver. I fancy Tally knows horseflesh and would not be taken in by the dealers, eh, Gilly?" laughed Mr. Vernon. Mr. Gilroy nodded his head approvingly, and muttered, "He is _some_ guide, I tell you!" Then Mr. Vernon proceeded with his tale. "Well, Tally got word the other day from his only brother, who runs a ranch up past Boulder somewhere, that a large ranch-wagon, ordered and paid for several months before, was not yet delivered. Would Tally go to the wagon-factory, and urge them to ship the vehicle, as the owner was in sore need of it this summer. "Tally had gone to the factory all right, but the boss said it was impossible to make any deliveries to such out-of-the-way ranches, and the railroad refused freight for the present. Poor Tally wired his brother immediately, and got a disconcerting reply. "He was authorized to take the wagon away from the manufacturer and send it on by _any route_ possible. But the brother did not offer any suggestions for that route, nor did he provide means by which Tally could hitch the wagon up and send it on _via_ its own transportation-power or expenses. "Fortunately for Tally, and all of us, a horse-dealer had overheard the story and now joined us. ''Scuse me fer buttin' in,' he said, 'but I got some hosses I want to ship to Boulder, and no decent driver fer 'em. Why cain't we-all hitch up our troubles an' drive 'em away. Let your Injun use my hosses as fur as Boulder, and no charge to him. He drives the animals to a stable I'll mention and c'lect fer feed and expenses along the road, but no pay fer himself,--that's squared on the use my beasts give you-all.' "I ruminated. Here we were with Tally who had a wagon on his hands and no horses, and here was a dealer with four horses and no wagon. It sure seemed a fine hitch to make, so we all hitched together. So now we are all starting early in the morning _via_ a prairie schooner to Boulder. How do you like it?" A cry of mingled excitement and delight soon told him what the scouts thought of the plan, but Mr. Gilroy remarked, "But what am I to do about horses for the rest of the jaunt?" "Oh, Tally says he can drive much better bargains with ranchers than in the city here, and the horses trained for mountain climbing by the ranchers are far superior to the hacks that have been used for years to trot about Denver City. So I decided to put it right up to Tally, and he agreed to supply splendid mounts for each one of us, or guide you free of charge all summer," said Mr. Vernon. CHAPTER TWO VIA A "PRAIRIE SCHOONER" Imagination had painted for the scouts a most thrilling ride in a prairie schooner, but they learned to their sorrow that the great ranch wagon built for travel over the heavy western roads and rough trails, was not quite as luxurious as a good automobile, going on splendid eastern state roads. Ranch wagons are manufactured to withstand all sorts of ditches and obstructions in western roadways. They are constructed with great stiff springs, and the wheels have massive steel bands on still more massive rims. Into such a vehicle were packed the baggage and camping outfits that were meant to provide lodging and cooking for the party for the summer. The four strong horses, which were to be delivered to a dealer in Boulder, pulled the wagon. Tally understood well how to drive a four-in-hand, but the going was not speedy, accustomed as the passengers were to traveling in fast automobiles. Tally took the direct road to Boulder because it was the best route to the Rocky Mountain National Park, where Mr. Gilroy wished to examine certain moraines to find specimens he needed for his further work. The wagon had rumbled along for several hours, and the tourists were now in the wonderful open country with the Rockies frowning down upon them from distant great heights, while the foothills into which they were heading were rising before them. The road they were on ran along a bald crest of one of these foothills. Turning a bend in the trail, the scouts got their first glimpse of a genuine cattle-ranch. It was spread out in the valley between two mountains, like a table set for a picnic. The moving herd of cattle and the cowboys looked like dots on the tablecloth. "Oh, look, every one! What are those tiny cowboys doing to the cattle?" called Julie, eagerly pointing to a mass of steers which were being gathered together at one corner of the range. "I verily believe they are working the herd, Vernon! What say you,--shall we detour to give the scouts an idea of how they do it?" asked Mr. Gilroy. Mr. Vernon took the field glasses and studied the mass for a few moments, then said, "To be sure, Gilroy! I'd like to watch the boys do it, too." "I have never witnessed the sight, although we all have heard about it," added Mrs. Vernon. "It will be splendid to view such a scene as we travel along." Mr. Gilroy then turned to the driver. "Tally, when we reach the foot of this descent, take a trail that will lead us past that ranch where the cowboys are working cattle out of the herd." Tally nodded, and at the first turn he headed the horses towards the ranch a few miles away. When the tourists passed the rough ranch-house of logs, a number of young children ran out to watch the party of strangers, for visitors in that isolated spot were a curiosity. The guide reined in his horses upon a knoll a short distance from the scene where the cattle were being rounded up. Spellbound, the scouts watched the great mass of the broad brown backs of the restless cattle, with their up-thrusting, shining horns constantly tossing, or impatient heads swaying from side to side. All around the vast herd were cowboys, picturesque in sombreros, and chaps with swinging ropes coiled ready to "cut out" a certain steer. Meanwhile, threading in and out of the concentrated mass, other horsemen were driving the cattle to the edge of the round-up. "What do they intend doing with those they lasso, Gilly?" asked Joan. "They will brand them with the ranch trade-mark, and then ship them to the large packing-houses." Mrs. Vernon managed to get several fine photographs of the interesting work, and then the Indian guide was told to drive on. Seeking for a way out to the main trail again, Tally ascended a very steep grade. Upon reaching the top, the scouts were given another fine view of the valley on the other side of the ridge. The scene looked like a Titanic checkerboard, with its squares accurately marked off by the various farms that dotted the land. But these "dots" really were extensive ranches, as the girls learned when they drove nearer and past them. The day had been unusually hot for the month of June in that altitude, and towards late afternoon the sky became suddenly overcast. "Going to get wet, Tally?" asked Mr. Gilroy, leaning out to glance up at the scudding clouds. "Much wet," came from the guide, but he kept his horses going at the same pace as before. Thunderstorms in the Rockies do not creep up gradually. They just whoop up, and then empty the contents of their black clouds upon any place they select,--although the clouds are impartial, as a rule, in the selection of the spot. Had the storm known that a crowd of tenderfeet were in the ranch wagon it could scarcely have produced a greater spectacle. It seemed as if all the elements combined to make impressive for the girls this, their first experience of a thunderstorm in the Rockies. Before the sun had quite hidden behind an inky curtain, a blinding flash cleft the cloud and almost instantaneously a deafening crash followed. Even though every one expected the thunder, it startled them. In another minute's time the downpour began. Wherever water could find entrance, there the howling wind drove in the slanting rain. "Every one huddle in the middle of the wagon--keep away from the canvas sides!" Mr. Gilroy tried to shriek to those behind him. Flashes with the accompanying cracks of thunder followed closely one upon the other, so that no one could be heard to speak, even though he yelled at the top of his lungs. The wind rose to a regular gale and the wagon rocked like a cockleshell on a choppy sea. The Indian sat unconcerned and kept driving as if in the most heavenly day, but the four horses reared their heads, snorting with fear and lunging at the bits in nervousness. The storm passed away just as unexpectedly as it came, but it left the road, which was at best rough and full of holes, filled with water. The wagon wheels splashed through these wells, soaking everything within a radius of ten feet, and constantly shaking the scouts up thoroughly. "I feel like a pillow, beaten up by a good housekeeper so that the feathers will fluff up," said Julie. "I'd rather feel like a pillow than to have my tongue chopped to bits," cried Ruth, complainingly. "If I have any tongue left after this ride, I shall pickle it for safekeeping." "Can't Featherweight sit still?" laughed Joan. Mrs. Vernon placed an arm about Ruth's shoulder to hold her steadier, just as an unusually deep hole shook up everybody and all the baggage in the wagon. "There now! That's the last bite left in my tongue! Three times I thought it was bitten through, but this last jolt twisted the roots so that I will have to have an artificial one hinged on at the first hospital we find," wailed Ruth, showing the damaged organ that all might pity her. Instead of giving sympathy, every one laughed, and Julie added, "At least your tongue is still in use, but my spine caved in at that last ravine we passed through, and now I have no backbone." Just as the scouts began laughing merrily at the two girls the front wagon wheel on the right side dropped into a hole, while the horses strained at the traces. The awful shock and jar given the passengers threw them against the canvas sides, and then together again in a heap. The babel of shouting, screaming, laughing voices that instantly sounded from the helpless pile of humanity frightened the nervous horses. The leaders plunged madly, but the wheel stuck fast in the hole. Tally held a stiff rein, but the leaders contaminated the two rear horses, and all four plunged, reared, snorted, and pulled different ways at once. The inevitable was sure to happen! "Jump, Tally, and grab the leaders! I'll hold them in!" cried Mr. Gilroy, catching hold of the reins. "Here, Gill, let me hold the reins while you help Tally!" shouted Mr. Vernon, instantly crawling over the front seat and taking the reins in hand. So Mr. Gilroy sprang out after Tally, and made for one of the leaders while the guide caught hold of the other. But just as the Indian reached up to take the leather, the horse managed to work the bit between his teeth. At the same time, the lunging beasts yanked the wagon wheel up out of the hole, and feeling the release of what had balked their load, the horses began tearing along the road. Tally dangled from the head of the first horse whose bit he had tried to work back into place. Mr. Vernon held firmly to the reins as he sat on the driver's seat of the wagon. But Mr. Gilroy was left clear out of sight, standing in the middle of the muddy road, staring speechlessly after the disappearing vehicle. The scouts were tossed back and forth like tennis balls, but the tossing was not done as gracefully as in a game of tennis. Fortunately for all concerned, the road soon ascended a steep grade, and a long one. The cumbersome wagon was too heavy to be flipped up that hill without the four horses becoming breathless. The leaders were the first to heave and slow down in their pace; then the two rear beasts panted and slowed, and finally all came to a dead stop. This gave Tally his opportunity to drop from his perilous clutch and glare at the horses. "_Outlaws!_" hissed he at the animals, as if this ignominious western term was sufficient punishment to shame the horses. "Poor Gilly! Have we lost him?" cried Betty, who had been shaken into speechlessness during the wild ride. Mr. Vernon took the field glasses from his pocket and focussed them along the road he had so recently flown over in the bouncing wagon. Suddenly a wild laugh shook him, and he passed the glasses to his wife. The Captain leveled them and took a good look, then laughing as heartily as her husband, she gave them to Julie and hurriedly adjusted the camera. The Scout Leader took them and looked. "Oh, girls! You ought to see Gilly. He is trying to hurry up the long road, but he is constantly jumping the water holes and slipping in the mud. Here--every one take a squint at him." By the time Mr. Gilroy came up the long steep hill, every scout had had a good laugh at the appearance he made while climbing, and the Captain had taken several funny snapshots of him. Upon reaching the wagon, Mr. Gilroy sighed, "Well, I am not sure which was worse--Tally's ride or that walk!" "Um--him walk, badder of all!" grinned the Indian. The scouts rolled up the side curtains of the wagon that they could admire the view as they passed. And with every one feeling resigned to a mild shaking as compared to the last capers of the four horses, the journey was resumed. Great overhanging boulders looked ready to roll down upon and crush such pigmies as these that crawled along the road under them. Then, here and there, swift, laughing streams leaped over the rocks to fall down many, many hundreds of feet into the gorges riven between the cliffs. The falling waters sprayed everything and made of the mist a veritable bridal-veil of shimmering, shining white. "Tally, shall we reach Boulder to-night?" asked Mr. Gilroy, gazing at the fast-falling twilight. "Late bimeby," Tally said, shrugging his shoulders to express his uncertainty. "Well, then, if we are going to be late, and as the way is not too smooth, I propose we pitch camp for the night. What say you?" suggested Mr. Gilroy, turning to hear the verdict of the scouts. "Oh, that will be more fun than stopping at a hotel in Boulder!" exclaimed the Leader, the other girls agreeing with her. "Very well, Gilly; let us find a suitable place for camp," added the Captain. "We need not pitch the tents, as you scouts can sleep in the wagon, and we three men will stretch out beside the campfire. Tally can pull in at the first good clearing we find along the way," explained Mr. Gilroy. "If we bunk in the wagon, we'll have to stretch out in a row," remarked Joan. "We'll look like a lot of dolls on the shelf of a toy-shop," giggled Julie. "I don't want to sleep next to you, Julie--you're such a kicker in your sleep," complained Betty. Everybody laughed at the sisters, and Anne said: "I don't mind kicks, as I never feel them when I'm asleep." Tally had brought canned and prepared food for just such an emergency as an unexpected camp; so now the supper was quickly cooked and the travelers called to enjoy it. Night falls swiftly in the mountains, and even though the day may have been warm, the nights in the Rockies are cold. A fire is always a comfort, so when supper was over the scouts sat around the fire, thoroughly enjoying its blaze. The late afterglow in the sky seemed to hover over the camp as if reluctant to fade away and leave the scouts in the dark. The atmosphere seemed tinged with orchid tints, and a faint, almost imperceptible white chill pervaded the woods. "Girls," said Mr. Gilroy, "we have shelter, food and clothing enough, in this wonderful isolation of Nature--is there anything more that humans can really secure with all their struggling for supremacy? Is not this life in grand communion with Mother Nature better than the cliff-dwellers in great cities ever have?" Mrs. Vernon agreed thoroughly with him and added, "Yes, and man can have, if he desires it, this sublime and satisfying life in the mountains, where every individual is supreme over all he surveys--as the Creator willed it to be." Tally finished clearing away the supper, and sat down to have a smoke. But Mr. Gilroy turned to him, and said, "Tally, we would like to hear one of your tribe's legends, like those you used to tell me." "Oh, yes, Tally! please, please!" immediately came from the group of girls. Tally offered no protest, but removed the pipe from his lips and asked, "You like Blackfeet tale?" "Yes, indeed!" chorused those about the fire. "My people, Blackfeet Tribe. Him hunt buffalo, elk, and moose. Him travel far, and fight big. Tally know tribe history, an' Tally tell him." Then he began to relate, in his fascinating English, a tale that belonged to his people. The Dandelion Scouts would have liked to write the story down in their records as Tally gave it, but they had to be satisfied with such English as they knew. "Long ago, when the First People lived on earth, there were no horses. The Blackfeet bred great dogs for hauling and packing. Some Indians used elk for that purpose, but the wild animals were not reliable, and generally broke away when they reached maturity. "In one of the camps of a Blackfeet Tribe lived two children, orphaned in youth. The brother was stone deaf, but the sister was very beautiful, so the girl was made much of, but the boy was ignored by every one. "Finally the girl was adopted by a Chief who had no children, but the squaw would not have the deaf boy about her lodge. The sister begged that her brother be allowed to live with her, but the squaw was obdurate and prevailed. So the poor lad was kicked about and thrust away from every tent where he stopped to ask for bread. "Good Arrow, which was the boy's name, kept up his courage and faith that all would still be righted for him. The sister cried for her brother's companionship until a day when the tribe moved to a new camp. Then the lad was left behind. "Good Arrow lived on the scraps that he found in the abandoned camp until, at last, he had consumed every morsel of food. He then started along the trail worn by the moving tribe. It was not a long journey, but he had had no food for several days now, and he knew not where to find any until he reached his sister. "He was traveling as fast as he could run, and his breath came pumping forth like gusts from an engine. The perspiration streamed from every pore, and he felt dizzy. Suddenly something sounded like a thunderclap inside his head, and he felt something snap. He placed both hands over his ears for a moment, and felt something soft and warm come out upon the palms. He looked, and to his consternation saw that a slender waxen worm had been forced from each ear. "Then he heard a slight sound in the woods. And he realized, with joy, that he could hear at last! So distinctly could he hear, that he heard a wood-mouse as it crept carefully through the grass a distance from the trail. "Almost bursting with joy and happiness over his good news, he ran on regardless of all else. He wanted only to reach his sister and tell her. "But that same morning the Chief, who had adopted the girl, announced to his squaw that he could not stand the memory of the lad's sad face when the tribe abandoned him. The Chief declared that he was going back and adopt the poor child, so he could be with his sister. "In spite of his wife's anger the Chief started back, but met the boy not far down the trail. The lad cried excitedly and showed the waxen worms upon his palms in evidence of his story. The Chief embraced him and told him what he had planned to do that very day. Good Arrow was rejoiced at so much good fortune, and determined to be great, and do something courageous and brave for his Chief. "He grew to be a fine young brave, more courageous and far more learned in all ways than any other youth in the tribe. Then one day he spoke to his Chief: "'I want to find Medicine, but know not where to get it.' "'Be very brave, fearless with the enemy, exceedingly charitable to all, of kind heart to rich and poor alike, and always think of others first,--then will the Great Spirit show you how to find Medicine,' replied the Chief. "'Must I be kind to Spotted Bear? He hates me and makes all the trouble he can, in camp, for me,' returned Good Arrow. "'Then must you love Spotted Bear, not treat him as an enemy, but turn him into a friend to you. Let me tell you his story,' said the Chief. "'One day Spotted Bear took a long journey to a lake where he had heard of wonderful Medicine that could be had for the asking. He says he met a stranger who told him how to secure the Medicine he sought. And to prove that he had found it he wears that wonderful robe, which he claims the Great Medicine Man presented to him. He also told us, upon his return, of great dogs that carried men as easily as baggage. "'We asked him why he had not brought back the dogs for us, and he said that they were not for us, but were used only by the gods that lived near the lake where he met the Medicine Man.' "Good Arrow listened to this story and then exclaimed, 'I shall go to this lake and ask the Medicine Man to give me the dogs.' "All the persuasions of his sister failed to change his determination, so he started one day, equipped for a long journey. When Spotted Bear heard that Good Arrow had gone for the dogs he had failed to bring to camp, he was furious and wanted to follow and kill the youth. The other braves restrained him, however. "Good Arrow traveled many days and finally arrived at a lake such as had been described to him by the Chief. Here he saw an old man who asked him what he sought. "'Knowledge and wisdom to rule my people justly.' "'Do you wish to win fame and wealth thereby?' asked the bent-over old man. "'I would use the gifts for the good of the tribe, to help and enlighten every one,' returned Good Arrow. "'Ah! Then travel south for seven days and you will come to a great lake. There you will meet one who can give you the Medicine you crave. I cannot do more.' "Then the young brave journeyed for seven days and seven nights, until, utterly exhausted, he fell upon the grass by the side of the trail. How long he slept there, he knew not; but upon awakening, he saw the great lake spread out before his eyes, and standing beside him was a lovely child of perfect form and features. "Good Arrow smiled on the child; then the little one said, 'Come, my father said to bring you. He is waiting to welcome you.' "With these words spoken, the child ran straight into the lake and disappeared under the water. "Fearfully the youth ran after, to save the little one. He plunged into the deep water, thinking not of himself, but of how to rescue the babe. "As he touched the water, it suddenly parted and left a dry trail that ran over to a wonderful lodge on the other side. He now saw the child running ahead and calling to a Chief who stood before the lodge. "Good Arrow followed and soon met the Chief whom he found to be the Great Medicine Man he had sought. The purpose of his journey was soon explained, then the Chief beckoned Good Arrow to follow him. "'I will show you the elk-dogs that were sent from the Great Spirit for the use of mortals. But no man has been found good enough or kind enough to take charge of them.' "Then Good Arrow was taken to the wide prairie, where he saw the most wonderful animals feeding. They were larger than elk and had shining coats of hair. They had beautiful glossy manes and long sweeping tails. Their sensitive ears and noses were quivering in wonderment as they watched a stranger going about their domain. "'Young man of the earth,' said the Chief, patting one of the animals that nuzzled his hand, 'these are the horses that were meant for mankind. If you wish to take them back with you it is necessary that you learn the Medicine I have prepared for you.' "Good Arrow was thrilled at the thought that perhaps he might be the one to bring this blessing on man. He thought not of the wealth and fame such a gift would bring to him. The Chief smiled with pleasure. "'Ah, you have passed the first test well. This offer to you, that might well turn a great Chief's head, only made you think of the good it would bring to the children of earth. It is well.' "So every lesson given Good Arrow was not so much for muscular power or physical endurance, but tests of character and moral worth. The youth passed these tests so creditably that the Chief finally said, 'My son, you shall return to your people with this great gift from the Spirit, if you pass the last test well.' "'Journey three days and three nights without stopping, and _do not once turn to look back_! If you turn, you shall instantly be transformed into a dead tree beside the trail. Obey my commands, and on the third night you shall hear the hoofs of the horses who will follow you. "'Leap upon the back of the first one that comes to you, and all the others will follow like lambs to to the camp you seek. "'Now let me present you with a token from myself. This robe is made for Great Medicine Chiefs,' and as he spoke the Chief placed a mantle like his own over Good Arrow's shoulders. And in his hand he placed a marvelous spear. "Good Arrow saw that the robe was exactly like the one worn by Spotted Bear, but he asked no questions about it. When the Chief found the young brave was not curious, he smiled, and said, 'Because you did not question me about Spotted Bear, I will tell you his story, that you may relate it again to the tribe and punish him justly for his cowardice. "'Spotted Bear reached the lake where the child stood, but he would not follow her into the water,--not even to rescue her, when she cried for help. He was driven back by evil spirits, and when he found the old man who had sent him onward to find the elk-dogs, he beat him and took away his robe. That is the robe he now wears, but I permitted him to wear it until a brave youth should ask questions regarding its beauty,--then will it have accomplished its work. You are the youth, and now you hear the truth about Spotted Bear. Judge righteous judgment upon him, and do not fear to punish the crime. "'Now, farewell, Good Arrow. You are worthy to guide my horses back to mortals. The robe will never wear out, and the spear will keep away all evil spirits and subdue your enemies.' "When Good Arrow would have thanked the Chief, he found he was alone upon the shore where he first saw the child. Had it not been for the gorgeous robe upon his back and the spear in his hand, he would have said it was all a dream from which he had but just awakened. "He turned, as he had been commanded, and straightway journeyed along the trail. He went three days and three nights before he heard a living thing. Then the echoes of hoofbeats thudded on the trail after him. But he turned not. "Soon afterward, a horse galloped up beside him, and as he leaped upon its back, it neighed. The others followed after the leader, and all rode into camp, as the great Chief had said it would be. "Great was the wonderment and rejoicing when Good Arrow showed his people the marvelous steeds and told his story. The robe and spear bore him out in his words. But Spotted Bear turned to crawl away from the campfire. Then Good Arrow stood forth, and said in a loud voice of judgment, 'Bring Spotted Bear here for trial.' "The story of his cowardice and theft was then related to the tribe, and the judgment pronounced was for the outcast to become a nameless wanderer on the earth. Even as the Chief spoke these words of punishment, the robe he had always bragged about, fell from his back and turned into dust at his feet. "Thus came the Spirit's gift of horses to mankind, and Good Arrow became a wise Medicine Man of the Blackfeet." Tally concluded his story, and resumed his pipe as if there had been no prolonged lapse between his smokes. CHAPTER THREE JULIE'S STRANGE EXPERIENCE "That was a splendid story, Tally," said the Captain, as Tally concluded his legend. "Yes, I like it better than those I have read of the First Horses in books from the Smithsonian Institution," added Mrs. Vernon. "Him true story! My Chief tell so," declared Tally, positively, and not one of the scouts refuted his statement. "Well, I don't know how you girls feel, but I will confess that I'm ready for a nap," remarked Mr. Gilroy, trying to hide a yawn. "No objections heard to that motion," declared Mr. Vernon. "Not after such a day's voyage in this schooner," laughed Julie. "I'll be fast asleep in a jiffy." So the blankets were spread out over the floor of the wagon, and the girls rolled themselves into them, and stretched out as planned. The planks of the floor were awfully hard and there seemed to be ridges just where they were not wanted. Directly under Julie's back was a great iron bolt but she could not move far enough to either one side or the other to avoid it. So she doubled her blanket over it, and left her feet upon the bare wooden planks. "I'm thankful there are no tall members in this Troop," remarked the Captain, after they were all settled in a row. "If there were, her feet would have to hang over the side of the wagon." Tally and the two men spread out their rubber covers in front of the fire, and all were soon asleep. Julie's brag about falling fast asleep in a jiffy proved false, for she could not rest comfortably because of the bolt. So her sleep was troubled and she half-roused several times, although she did not fully awaken. Then, during one of these drowsy experiences when she tried to get on one side of the bolt, she heard a strange sound. She sat up and looked around. It was still dark, although the first streaks of dawn were showing in the sky. Her companions were stretched out under their covers, and Mrs. Vernon was softly snoring. Julie lifted a corner of the canvas curtain to ascertain what it was that awakened her, and she saw a suspicious sight. The guide was in the act of getting upon his feet without disturbing the two men who slept soundly by the fireside. He waved a hand, as a signal, towards the brush some ten feet away. And there Julie saw a hand and arm motioning him, but no other part of its owner could be seen. "Well I never!" thought Julie to herself, as she watched Tally creep away from the fire and make for the bushes. He was soon hidden behind the foliage, and then Julie heard sounds as of feet moving along the forest trail. "I'm not going to let him put anything over on us, if I know it!" thought she. And she quickly stepped over the quiet forms in the wagon, and slid down from the back of the schooner. That night the scouts had on moccasins, fortunately, and her feet made no sound as she swiftly followed the Indian through the screen of leaves. Then she saw, some dozen yards ahead of her, two forms hurrying up a steep trail that ran through the forest. One was Tally, and his companion was an Indian maiden. Unseen, Julie softly followed after them, and finally they came to a roaring mountain torrent that was bridged by a great fallen pine. On the other side of this stream were two shining black horses, with manes and tails so long and thick that the scout marveled. They were caparisoned in Indian fashion with gay colors and fancy trappings. The maiden quickly loosed the steeds and Tally sprang up into one saddle, while the squaw got up into the other. Then they continued up along the trail without as much as a glance behind. Julie managed to creep over the treetrunk and gained the other side of the torrent, then ran after them as fast as she could go. But they had disappeared over the crest and the scout had to slow up, as her breath came in panting gasps. Finally she, too, reached the summit, but there was no sign of horses or riders. A wide cleared area covered the top of the mountain, from which a marvelous view of Denver and its environs could be had. Distant peaks now glimmered in the rising sun, and Julie sighed in ecstasy at such a wonderful sight. Then she remembered what brought her there, and she ran across the clearing to look for a trail down the other side and, perchance, a glimpse of the Indians. Passing a screen of thick pines, she suddenly came to an old flower garden, and on the other side of it stood a rambling old stone castle, similar to Glen Eyrie at Colorado Springs. "Humph! This looks as if some one tried to imitate General Palmer's gorgeous castle, but gave it up in despair," thought she. Julie walked across the intervening space and reached the moss-grown stone steps that led to a great arched doorway. She had a glance, through wide-opened doors, of gloomy hallway and a great staircase, then she skirted the wing of the building, and came out to a wide terrace that ran along the entire front of the pile. The view from this high terrace caused her to stand perfectly still and gaze in awe. She could see for miles and miles over the entire country from the height she stood upon. It was almost as wonderful a view as that from Pike's Peak. Sheer down from the stone terrace dropped a precipice of more than five thousand feet. Far down at its base she could see a stream winding a way between dots of ranches and narrow ribbons of roadways. "This is the most marvelous scene yet!" murmured Julie. Then she frowned as a thought came to her. "If Tally knew of this place,--and it is evident that he did,--why did he not tell us of it, so that we could climb up and see it in the morning? And why isn't this old castle on the road-map, with a note telling tourists of the magnificent view from this height?" After a long time given to silent admiration of the country as seen from the terrace, Julie turned and slowly walked up the stone steps that led into the hall. "Wonder if the place is abandoned," thought she, peeping inside the doorway. As no sound or sign of life was evident, she tiptoed in and gazed about. The tiles on the floor were of beautiful design and coloring, and the woodwork was tinted to correspond. The walls were covered with rare old tapestries, while here and there adown the length of the hall stood suits of armor and mailed figures. Bronze chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, and on each side of the hall stood bronze _torchères_ holding gigantic wax candles. "Well, in all my life I never dreamed of visiting such a museum of old relics!" sighed Julie, who dearly loved antiques. Suddenly, as silently as everything else about the place, there appeared a white-haired servitor in baronial uniform. He came forward and deferentially bowed, then he spoke to Julie. "Are you the Indian maiden the guide was to meet to-day?" Julie was so amazed at the question that she could not reply, so she barely nodded her head. "Then follow me, as the master waits. The guide sits below, eating breakfast," added the old servant. At the mention of breakfast, Julie felt her empty stomach yearn for a bite of it, but she silently turned and followed the major-domo, as she knew him to be, along the hall and up the stairs. As they reached the first landing the old man said, "The master is in his laboratory in the tower. Breakfast will be served there." Julie accepted this as cheerful news, so she fearlessly followed after the guide. She had seen no tower from the outside of the rambling building, but, she thought, there might have been one at the wing opposite the one around which she came when she walked to the front of the place. Having reached the top of the stairs, Julie saw that the entire second-floor walls were covered with ancient portraits. She would have loved to stop and study the ancient costumes of the women, but the man ascended the second flight of stairs, and she must follow. They went along the hall on the third floor, and at the end the servitor entered a small room that was heavily hung with velour _portières_. He pushed them aside and turned a knob that seemed to be set in the carved panel. Instantly this panel swung open and disclosed a narrow spiral stairway leading to an iron platform overhead. Julie began to question the wisdom of this reckless act of hers; but having come so far, how could she back out gracefully? Why should this master want to breakfast with an Indian squaw--for such he was expecting? "This way," politely reminded the old man, and Julie had to see the thing through to the end--whatever that might be. At the head of these spiral stairs the man pulled on a heavy cord, and another hidden door set in carved panelling opened. Through this they went, and then the man said: "Be seated, and I will call the master." Julie gazed about her in profound curiosity. The room was an octagon-shaped laboratory, so dark that its corners were in shadow. The only light came from a huge glass dome ceiling. One side of the room was taken up by a great fireplace; opposite this stood a high cabinet filled with the vials and other equipment of a chemist. The paneled door through which she came took up the third side, and the five other sides were filled with tiers of shelves, where stood rows of morocco-bound books. Great leather chairs stood about the room, and in the center, upon a magnificent Kirmanshaw rug, stood an onyx table with a great crystal globe upon it. At one side, near the narrow door through which the old servant had gone, stood a grand piano. Julie had no time for further inspection of the room, as a unique figure suddenly appeared in the small doorway through which the servitor had gone. He was very tall and thin, and was clad in wonderfully embroidered East Indian robes. A fez cap covered the bald head on top, and a thin straggly white beard fringed the lower part of his face. Upon his scrawny finger a strange stone glittered and instantly attracted her gaze. Julie wondered who this unusual person might be, but he vouchsafed no information. In fact, he stood perfectly still as if waiting for her to open the conversation. This proved to be the fact, for he gazed searchingly at the girl, and then murmured, "Well?" Julie tried to summon a smile and act nonchalant, but the entire atmosphere of the place was too oppressive for such an air, so she stood, changing her weight from one foot to the other. This form of action--or to be more exact, inaction--continued for a few minutes, then the old man gave vent to a hollow laugh. It sounded so sepulchral that Julie shivered with apprehension. He started to cross the room. When he came within a few feet of his guest he said, raspingly, "Maiden, I know thee. Thou'rt a descendant of Spotted Bear, the coward! And I--I am the young Medicine Man who won the robe and spear, and brought the horses to earth for mankind to use. Hast aught to say to that?" At these words Julie was too amazed to answer. To see the hero of that wonderful Indian legend standing before her eyes--but oh, how old he must be, for that happened ages ago, and his yellow parchment-like skin attested to a great age. As she thought over these facts, she could not keep her eyes from the old man's face, and now she actually could trace a resemblance to the young guide, Tally. Could the latter be a descendant of this Medicine Man's? As if the old fellow read her thoughts, he chuckled, "Aye! The guide is one of my tribe, and thou art a member of that of the outcast, Spotted Bear. Because I have found thee, I shall see that no descendant of that coward's goes forth again to trouble the world." Julie began to fear that she had been very indiscreet in coming into this old ruin as she had done, especially as she would find it difficult to convince this old man that she was not the Indian maiden he thought her to be. But she paid attention to his next act, which was to pull out a great chair and drop back in it as if too weary to stand longer upon his spindling legs. "Art hungry? Even my enemy must not complain of our bounty." So saying, the old man reached forth a long thin arm and his fingers pushed upon a button in the wall. Instantly a panel moved back and disclosed a cellaret built into the wall. Here were delicious fruits, cakes, and fragrant coffee. "Help thyself. I will wait till thou art done," said he, waving his hand at the food. Julie was so hungry that the sight of the fruit made her desperate. Had her future welfare depended upon it, she could not have withstood the temptation to eat some of that fruit. She went over to take an orange, but a horrible thrust in her back caused her to cry out and put both hands behind her. To her horror she found the old man had thrown some hard knob at her and it had made such a dent in her flesh that it could be distinctly felt at the base of her spine. The insane laughter that greeted her wail of pain made her realize that she was in the presence of a madman! "Why not eat, Maiden? I will amuse myself, meantime," said the old man, as he finished his laughter. Julie saw him rise and hobble over to the piano, then seat himself before the keyboard and begin to play the weirdest music she had ever heard. But the pain in her back continued so that the thought of breakfast vanished. All she cared for now was to get rid of that suffering. When she could stand the agony no longer, she gathered courage enough to limp over to the piano and beg him to release her, as she was in great pain. "Aha! Didst ever think of how Spotted Bear caused the child to suffer when it went down in the water?" asked he, suspending his hands over the piano keys. "But I hadn't anything to do with that! Why strike me for his crimes?" retorted Julie, gaining courage in her pain. The old man frowned at her fiercely, and mumbled, "Art obstinate? Then we'll have to use other ways." He turned and pushed another button in the wall back of the piano, and instantly the glass dome overhead became darkened, so that Julie could not see the objects in the room very plainly. The host got up and started slowly for Julie. His eyes seemed afire with a maniac's wildness, and the scout feared he was planning to attack her. She screamed for help, and ran for the door in the paneling through which she had entered. But the cry seemed muffled in her throat and no audible sound came forth. The host laughed that same horrible laugh again, and Julie tried again, harder than ever, to shout for help. Still her vocal chords seemed paralyzed, and no sound was heard from them. Just as she reached the paneling, the old man must have hurled another hard ball at her, for she felt the blow in her back and shrunk with the pain. And as she squirmed, she distinctly felt the painful object move from one side of her spine to the other, as if it were a button under the skin that was movable. But the door in the panel could not be opened, and Julie worked her hands frantically over its surface, while the old Indian laughed and crept closer to her. When he was near enough to reach out and take her in his awful hands, the scout gathered all her courage and flung herself upon him. She fought with hands and teeth, and kicked with her feet, hoping that his great age would render him too weak to resist her young muscular strength. She knew she must overpower him or he would kill her, mistaking her for the maiden descended from Spotted Bear. She had thus far won the hand-to-hand fight, so that he was down upon his knees and she was over him with her hands at his throat, when suddenly he collapsed, and his eyes rolled upwards at her. In her horror she managed to yell for help, and then she heard-- "Julie! Julie! Have mercy! Stop tearing Betty to bits!" Through a vague distance Julie recognized the voice of Joan. Oh, if they were only there to help! But she kept a grip on the old Chief's neck while she waited to answer the call. Then she heard very plainly, "For the love of Pete, Julie, wake up, won't you!" And some one shook her madly. Julie sat up and rubbed her eyes dazedly, while the scouts about her laughed wildly, and Betty scolded angrily. "Oh, Julie, what an awful nightmare you must have had," laughed Mrs. Vernon. "Is Tally back?" asked Julie. "He's cooking breakfast,--smell it," said Anne, smacking her lips. "I can smell coffee," mumbled Julie, still unconvinced that she had been dreaming. "It smells exactly like that old man's." "What old man?" again asked the circle about her. "Why, Good Arrow, to be sure! He lives up on that hill--and, girls, he's as old as Methusaleh, I'm sure!" declared Julie. The wild laughter that greeted this serious statement of hers did more to rouse the Leader from a cloudy state of mind than anything else, and soon she was up and out of the wagon to look for a trail that might run over the crest of the hill. But there was no trail, neither was there a mountain climb such as she remembered in her dreams. At breakfast, she told the dream, to the intense amusement of every one, Tally included. Then the Indian guide remarked, "No better sleep on iron bolt, nex' time!" CHAPTER FOUR GOING UP! "I hope we can say good-by to the old wagon to-day," said the Captain, after they were seated again, ready to resume the journey. "You seem not to like our luxurious schooner?" laughed Mr. Gilroy. "Luxurious! Had we but known what this ride would be like I venture to say every scout would have chosen to walk from Denver," exclaimed Mrs. Vernon. "And here I've been condemning myself as being the only ingrate in the party!" returned Mr. Gilroy. "I remember with what enthusiasm the scouts hailed the suggestion of traveling _a la_ prairie schooner." As the wagon came out from the screen of trees where they had camped for the night, the scouts saw the vapors in the valley eddy about and swiftly vanish in the penetrating gleams from the rising sun. Here and there patches of vivid green lay revealed, but in another half hour the sun would be strong enough, with the aid of a stiff breeze, to dispel all the clinging mists of night into their native nothingness. "Just as our earthly pains and sorrows go," remarked Mrs. Vernon. "Yes, Verny, just like Julie's dream, eh? She woke up and could hardly believe that she was here--safe and happy," added Joan. The road was rough and the joggling was as bad as ever, but the scouts were not so resigned as they had been the day before. Every little while they asked, "_Now_ how far are we from Boulder?" for there they would have surcease from such "durance vile" as this mode of travel imposed upon them. To distract their attention from physical miseries, Mr. Vernon asked a question, knowing that Mr. Gilroy would instantly divine his intention and follow it up. "Gilroy, how do you explain the queer fact that the higher we go on these grand heights, the more stunted we find the trees? One would expect to find beautiful timber on top." The scouts listened with interest, and Mr. Gilroy noted this and consequently took the cue given him. "Why, timber-line in the West, Vernon, means more than the end of the forest growth. Most trees near the top of the peaks are stunted by the cold, or are twisted by the gales, and become bent or crippled by the fierce battles they have to wage against the elements. But they are not vanquished--oh, no! "These warriors of the forests seem to realize with a fine intelligence how great is their task. They must protect the young that grow on the sides further down the mountain; they must hold back the destroying powers of the storm, that the _grand_ and _beautiful_ scions of this forest family be not injured. They have learned, through many courageous engagements with Nature's fierce winters, that the post appointed them in life can never offer them soft and gentle treatment while there remains such work as theirs to do, work that needs tried strength and brave endurance. "I have never found a coward growing in the ranks of the closely-linked, shoulder-to-shoulder front of trees that mark the timber-line. Although they may not _seem_ to grow, materially, more than from eight to twelve feet high, and though many look deformed by the overwhelming conditions, so that they present strange shapes in comparison with the erect tall giants down the mountainside, yet I love to remember that in His perfect Creation, these same fighters have won greatness and eternal beauty for their service to others. "In most cases, you will find that the higher the altitude of the peak and the wilder the winds, the closer grow the trees, as if to find increase of strength in the one united front that they present to the storms. These winter gales are so powerful that they tear at every object offering resistance to their destructive force. Thus the limbs growing on the outer side of the trees on timber-line are all torn away, or twisted back upon the parent trunk. "But there are times when even the most valiant defenders of the forest are momentarily overpowered. There comes a blizzard; the gale howls and shrieks as it tears back and forth for days at a stretch, trying to force a passage through the defence line. And sometimes a little soldier is rooted up with malignant fury, and used by the merciless gale to batter at his companions. This generally proves futile, however. "It is not always in the wintertime that the most terrific blizzards occur in the Rockies. In July, when all the country is pining for a breeze, these peaks produce blizzards that surpass anything heard of in winter, and these summer storms are the most destructive, as the trees are green and full of tender tips, that are ruthlessly torn off during the gale. "Then, too, the summer months generally produce the awful snowslides you hear about, that are quite common in the Rockies." "Oh, I wish we could see one of them!" exclaimed Julie, impulsively. "Child, you don't know what you are saying!" said Mr. Gilroy, earnestly. "If you ever went through one, as I have, you'd never want to experience another, I assure you." "Oh, Gilly! Do tell us about it," cried the scouts. And Mr. Vernon added, "Yes, Gilroy, do tell us the story." "It was many years ago, while I was on a geological trip through the Rockies. Tally and I were ready to start for a several days' outing on the peaks when the man we lodged with said, 'You are going out at a bad time. Some big slides have been reported recently.' "I, like Julie here, said, 'I'd like the excitement of riding a slide.' "The rancher said I was locoed, but he went about his business after that. So I took my snowshoes in case I met a slide and had to ride it. "Tally and I were soon climbing the trail, and as we went higher and higher, I felt pleasantly excited to see several small slides start from distant peaks and ride ruthlessly over everything to gain a resting-place. "Then we both heard a rumble and stood looking about. We now beheld a slide quite close at hand--on our own ridge but on the far side. It coasted slowly at first, but gathered momentum as it went, until it was flying downwards. "It was about fifty feet wide and several hundred feet long, but it cut a clean channel through the forest, carrying great trees, rocks, and other objects on its crest. Before it had traveled five hundred yards, it had gathered into its capacious maw tons of débris, besides the vast blanket of snow it started out with. All this made a resistless force that swept over other forest impedimenta, dragging all along with its flood. "It looked as if the village that snuggled at the foot of the mountain would be completely smothered and destroyed, when suddenly, the entire river of white was deflected by an erosion that had cut a wayward pathway across the mountainside. This attracted the slide down into the ravine. And as its mass went over the edge of the gulch, fine powdery particles filled the air, but nothing more than a dull, grinding sound rose to me as a tremor shook the ground, and I realized that it had found its end in the canyon. "Upon my return to the ranch, I was told that that slide had cut down and ruined fifty thousand fine trees. Nothing could be done with them after such a battle with the slide. "But the next day, as I still thrilled with the memory of the immense slide, I heard a rumbling sound just above where we were. Tally screamed, 'Look out. She come!' "I saw snow sliding across a shallow depression above, and heading straight for me. Tally had managed to scramble quickly out of the way, and I worked those snowshoes faster than anything I ever did before or since--believe me! "Before I could reach a safety zone, however, I was caught in the outer edge of the avalanche and whirled along for some distance. By dint of working those same snowshoes I managed to gain the extreme edge, where I flung myself recklessly out into space, not knowing where I might land. "Fortunately, I was left sprawling with legs and arms about a pine, while the slide rioted on without me. I lifted my bruised head because I wished to see all I could of it, and I was able to witness the havoc it wrought in its descent. When it reached the bottom of the mountain it collided with a rocky wall on an opposite cliff. The first meeting of the snow with this powerful resistance curled it backward upon itself, while the rest of the slide piled up on top, and quickly filled the narrow valley with its débris. "Had I not been so near the line of least suction, or had I been in the middle of that fearful slide, nothing could have saved me. I should have been buried under tons of snow even if I survived a death-dealing blow from a rock or tree during the descent. "Now, Julie, do you still care to experience a hand-to-hand battle with a slide?" "If it wasn't for all such thrilling adventures, Gilly, you wouldn't be so entertaining. When one is in the Rockies, one looks for experiences that go _with_ the Rockies," declared the girl. Mr. Gilroy shook his head as if to say Julie was hopeless. But Joan laughingly remarked, "A snowslide wouldn't be any wilder than Julie's visit to old man Good Arrow in his castle." "And about as frightful as the pit he would have thrown Julie into," added Mr. Gilroy. "Joking aside, Scouts. We expect to meet with various thrilling adventures during our sojourn in the Rockies, and I don't believe one takes such dire risks if one is careful," said Julie. "Maybe not, but you are not careful. In fact, you take 'dire risks' every time," retorted Mr. Gilroy. Nothing was said for a few minutes, then Tally spoke, "Mees'r Gilloy--him come to Boulder, pooty quick!" "Ha, that's good news!" remarked Mr. Vernon. "Yes, and our little scheme worked fine, eh, Uncle," laughed Mr. Gilroy. But all the coaxings from the scouts could not make either man say what that scheme had been. At Boulder the party gladly left the wagon for Tally to deliver to his brother, and the horses were turned over to the man they were intended for. While Tally was waiting for his brother's arrival, Mr. Gilroy found he could conduct his party through the Boulder Canyon, known as "The Switzerland Trail." So they got on a train and rode through a canyon which, as the name suggested, was everywhere lined with great boulders of all shapes and sizes. Here a roaring torrent would cleave a way down to the bottom of the canyon, while there an abrupt wall of rock defied the elements and all things else to maintain its stand. At Tungsten, the end of the trail, the scouts visited the district where this metal is mined. When they were through with the visit, Mr. Gilroy told the girls that Boulder County's record of income from tungsten alone was more than five million dollars a year. The State University at Boulder was visited upon the return of the scout tourists to that city. Here the girls learned that the campus covered over sixty acres of ground, and that the university boasted of twenty-two splendidly equipped buildings, equal to any in the world. It also had a library of its own that numbered about eighty-three thousand volumes. The value of the buildings approximated one million, seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. "It doesn't seem possible, when you look around at what this place is--or seems to be!" exclaimed Ruth. "Which goes to prove that appearances are not necessarily harmonious with facts," returned Mrs. Vernon, smilingly. When they met Tally, who was waiting at the place appointed, Julie asked, "Where do we go from here, Gilly?" "We'll follow Tally, as he seems to have a plan back of that grin," returned Mr. Gilroy. Every one turned to look at Tally, who in turn seemed quite taken by surprise, as he said, "Tally no plan!" "Ah, Tally! Will you never understand my winks!" sighed Mr. Gilroy. "I wanted you to help me out while I evaded an issue with these dreadful Scouts." "Um, Tally glad to if Mees'r Gilloy onny tell him." The others laughed at this guileless confession, and Mr. Gilroy shook his head despairingly. Then he said, "Well, I suppose I must 'fess up.'" "Of course, if you have any hidden schemes back in _your_ brain," Julie retorted. "This is it! Tally heard of a number of excellent horses to be had from a rancher near Loveland, so rather than wait about here for him to go and bring them back, we will go on to Loveland by train, and start from that place to ride through the Rocky Mountain National Park. "You see, my first plan is entirely upset by a prairie schooner, an Indian, and a horse-dealer. I had expected to ride from Denver on horses secured there, and go to Ward. Then on across the Divide and so on to Hot Sulphur Springs and Steamboat Springs. But it seems the itinerary revised itself,--and it may turn out to be a good improvement on mine," said Mr. Gilroy. "How far is the Continental Divide from Loveland?" asked Joan. "That all depends on how far we want it to be," laughed Mr. Vernon. "One can get there in no time, or one can stop at all the attractive points along the trail and spend weeks reaching the Divide." Then Mr. Gilroy added, "I propose leaving Loveland by an old Indian Trail Tally knows of, and thus reach Estes Park. We will take in Long's Peak on the way, and then ride on to the Divide, stopping to climb any peak we think interesting, or visit any park or moraine along the route." So the party reached Loveland, where Tally bargained shrewdly with a rancher for the horses and two mules for the tourists. Naturally the rancher wished to sell his horses outright, but Tally convinced him how much better an arrangement it would be for all concerned to rent the animals for the season, leaving a cash security deposited with a bank to cover the loss in case any or all of the horses were lost or injured on the way. If all were returned to the rancher in good condition, Mr. Gilroy would receive his deposit back. This entire section of Colorado was created a National Park by Congress, in January, 1915. And Estes Park is to the National Park what a beauty patch is to the face of a belle--the point of attraction that focuses the eye of the admirer. This National Park offers plenty of room for more than a million campers, without one being so near his neighbor as to give a sense of encroachment. For those Americans who love the untrammeled life of the woods, this park provides wonderful trout streams; flora and fauna most surprising and beautiful; and not only plains, valleys, ravines, and mountain peaks as diverting places to visit, but lakes, rivers, falls, and every ideal spot of Nature that one craves to see. In this National Park you may come unexpectedly upon a caribou grazing on the luscious grass, or in spring you may find a doting she-bear, leading her cubs to feast on the tender green shoots. But let your boots make the slightest noise, both these wild creatures will disappear so suddenly that you will rub your eyes to make sure you are awake. Other furred and feathered inhabitants of the forests will sit, screened behind the foliage and fern, laughing silently at your amateur ways of discovering them. You may not be woodsman enough ever to spy them, but they are about, just the same. Furtive eyes will watch your every movement as you ride along the trail. The partridge that has effaced himself by merging his mottled feathers with the shaggy bark where he is hidden, saw every least thing you did. The wild hare, covered with tall grasses and fern, flicked his long ears in fun, when your awkward steps passed within an inch of his nose, and you never dreamed of his sitting there! The squirrels and woodchucks wondered at your clumsy ways in the wilderness. Did they not leap and run joyously without a sound? And you only have two feet to manage while they have four! In short, every denizen of the forest about you will know as if the message were flashed by wire, that a mere MAN is on his way through their domains. The Park realm stretches along on the mountain top at an altitude of nine thousand feet, and more. And it embraces the most rugged section of the Continental Divide. Long's Peak rises about fourteen thousand two hundred feet high, and towers above the park plateau. It looks down upon ten or more other peaks that are only thirteen thousand feet high, and many more of twelve thousand feet altitude. Long's Peak is rocky and not easy to climb, but perfectly safe for man or beast. It is also free from the treacherous ice and snow that so often causes slides. Hence one can reach its summit, where a view of over a hundred miles of country is to be had. The Park is about twenty-five miles long and from ten to twenty miles wide. This, then, was the wonderful place the scouts of Dandelion Troop were to visit and glory in. CHAPTER FIVE HITTING THE TRAIL The horses Tally had contracted for were all the tourists could desire. They were sure-footed and experienced mountain climbers; they could go without food or water for a longer period than ordinary animals, as they had been so accustomed. They were not heavy, but wiry and muscular,--in short, the genuine ranch horse of the Rocky Mountains. The two pack mules, named Frolic and Jolt, were sleepy-looking beasts, but it was only in appearance. Once they started on the trail they proved splendid carriers, even though they took life their own way. The little cavalcade left the hotel at Loveland the center of curious eyes, for the summer tourists stopping at the inn had heard of the well-known geologist and the Troop of Scouts. As few members of the interesting organization of Girl Scouts had ever been through the Rockies, this Troop created quite a diversion for visitors. Tally soon turned from the beaten track that most tourists take in going to Estes Park, and led his party to the old abandoned Indian Trail. Finally they came to a cool shadowy thread of a path that could be distinguished only because the trees were not closely interlocked each with the others. At this hour the forest was like the translucence of the sea, bathing everything in the cool green light of its depths; and the exhilarating effect was the same as the salt tang of an ocean bath. "Makes one feel as if one were in church at Vesper time," softly declared Julie, glancing at the arched aisles they were riding through. "Was ever cathedral so solemn, so beautiful, as this of Nature?" replied Mrs. Vernon, in a reverent tone. Then for another long period all was silence again, as the scouts rode along, breathing in the beauty of the "silent places." When they had traveled about ten miles along this secret trail, with its ever-changing panorama of scenes, the swishing of a stream was heard. Soon after, the riders came to tumbling waters, that seemed in haste to go over the cliff that caused them to fall into a shadowy pool far below. Great rocks, overhanging pines, and gorgeous flora edged both sides of the waterfall, making a picture impossible to describe. They descended the steep declivity that skirted the falls and picked up the trail again at the bottom. Here the scouts found several brooks that ran from the pool, but that were entirely separated from the main stream. Tally examined these canals carefully, and then held up a hand for attention. "Scout hear beaver work? Dis beaver-canal." "Oh, really!" whispered the girls, excitedly. "If we could only watch them at work!" They distinctly heard the "tap, tap, tap" of something softly thudding against wood, while Tally leaned over to speak. "Mebbe kin see beaver. Leave horse tie here, an' follow Tally sof'ly to colony. But make some noise an' beaver dive home." The scouts promised to be very careful not to make a sound in following the guide, and so they dismounted to secure the horses and mules until their return from the beaver pond. The scouts now had their first glimpse of these industrious little workers, that are found in large colonies everywhere throughout the Rocky Mountains. This particular colony had dug the canals from the pool to their pond, which was located in a bowl-like depression of the woods, and there dammed up the outlet. But few marauders passed here, and they lived in peace in their selected home-site. There was a good growth of aspens all about the section, and these would supply food and lodgings for some time to come. The huts were erected in the middle of the largest pond of the chain. There were several beavers at work cutting the aspens when the party arrived on the edge of the pond, but so keen is the hearing and scent of these harmless animals, that they stopped work instantly, and slipped into the water, swimming unseen until they reached their huts. "Huh! Dem 'fraid!" ejaculated Tally, with disgust on his face. "Come 'long--us see udder places." Then he led through the aspen forest that fringed the pond, and reached the outlet where the dam had been constructed by the beavers. Here the scouts saw a shallow waterfall that fed another canal; this stream ended in another, but smaller, pond than the upper one they had first found. In this pond were a number of large huts, and many beavers at work at the farthest side of the pond. "I believe they are building another dam, Tally!" exclaimed Mr. Gilroy, under his breath. "Um--he am. Scout sit and watch." So they all sat on the brink of the pond silently watching the busy workers as they cut down trees, dragged them into the water and then swam with them to the dam, where other beavers helped to place the heavy tree trunks in such a manner that any dead wood or débris floating downstream would catch and help to dam up the water. "Why do they build another pond when there is such a big one above?" asked Betty. Mr. Gilroy replied, "There is plenty of food for the family that now resides in the huts in the upper pond, but the colony is increasing so fast that they know there will not be room enough, or food enough, for all this winter. Hence they are building now, to provide ample shelter for the future. By starting another dam and thus creating a pond, these wise little woodsmen also secure an area of new aspens that will feed the new colony. "Those canals that you see running out into the flat land beyond the new pond, are used as water courses to float the trees along into their pond. It is too bad we cannot see a beaver cut an aspen from that growth, and watch him float it until he brings it to its destination at the dam. "But you can watch, from this vantage point, those old fellows at work. You see that big beaver that sits at one side of the two now cutting--well, he is the boss of that job. It is up to him to choose the best aspens for cutting and order his men to begin work, while he watches. Then when the tree is almost cut through he will warn them away, take up the work himself, and push on the severed trunk until it crashes down in the direction he wishes it to fall. "You'll see how clever they are to have the aspen fall as near the water as possible, that they need waste no energy in dragging it over the ground to the pond." The scouts watched, and sure enough! The old boss took up the work at a given signal to his two helpers to stand back, and soon after that, the aspen fell, half of it in the water. But the beavers must have heard a suspicious sound just as they were going to drag the tree across the pond, and they scuttled under the water. Reluctantly the scouts turned away and went back to their horses, which they mounted, and soon they were riding along the way again. "I never saw such enchanting flowers and gorgeous ferns!" exclaimed the Captain, enthusiastically. "Um!" came from Tally, proudly, "him got more'n t'ousan' kin' flower in park!" "Really! Oh, that we might secure one of each for a collection!" sighed Julie. "It would take you longer than this summer to accomplish that," remarked Mr. Gilroy. "Here you will find some of the rarest orchids, as well as the hardiest kinds, known. Besides, you will find about fifteen species of gentian, the famous blue-fringed gentian among them. The largest columbines ever found grow here; and sweet peas in all conceivable shades of coloring. Not only can you add wonders to the botanical collections that you started in the Adirondacks, but you ought to be able to study many marvelous birds that nest in this primeval park." So they rode along, stopping frequently to gather interesting flowers beside the trail, and to admire and watch the birds that could be seen everywhere. [Illustration: "Jule, tell me about that bird swinging over your head"] It was during one of these short rests which had been caused by a crested bird of wonderful hue and unfamiliar form, that Joan and Julie, with a camera in hand, pushed a way through the bushes, the better to follow the bird's movements. "Joan, you sit down there on that fallen pine and write down notes as I call them off, and I will climb up on top of that huge boulder and get a snapshot at him as he swings from that bough," said Julie, as she began climbing the rock mentioned. Once she gained the top, she called back, "Of all the surprises! On the other side of this boulder is a steep descent that drops down to a dark pool. Now who would ever have dreamed there was such a pool behind this rock!" "Don't bother about pools or precipices now, Julie, but tell me about that bird, swinging right over your head. He'll fly away, if you don't 'make hay'!" laughed Joan, waiting with pencil suspended over the pad of paper. The rest of the party had heard Julie's exclamation, and were urging their horses through the thick forest, nearer the two scouts. Tally jumped from his animal and came in the direction of the boulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the bird they were talking about. "Jo, I really believe it is a young Rocky Mountain jay--the kind Gilly described to us. He is hopping into the higher branches now, and I can hardly see him," said Julie. "Dear me, Julie! If only we could swear that we got a snapshot and description of the jay from actually watching him, what a fine thing it would be when we get home!" sighed Joan. "Wait--I'll get out on the far end of this immense rock and try to get a full view of him," said Julie, moving across the top of the stone to the outer verge of it. Suddenly the boulder began settling slowly down towards the pool. The soil underneath it had all been washed out by torrential rains, so that it barely hung in position when Julie climbed upon it. Now that she added her weight to its outer side, it began rolling--turning over and over in its heavy descent. "Oh, oh! Save me, somebody! I'll be crushed to powder!" screamed Julie, who could not jump from that great height into the jungle, nor could she maintain a footing without doing the liveliest dance of her life. It was well that the boulder was so heavy, and the pathway it rolled down so soft as to make it sink into the soil and grip a _digging_ hold, as it turned and turned. Had the ground been rocky or the boulder smaller, it would have simply hurled itself into the water, carrying Julie with it. Now, however, she danced and kept stepping like a trained circus animal does on a barrel to keep it rolling, while Joan cried fearfully, and Tally rushed through the bushes to gain the bottom of the gully. Julie had ceased screaming the moment she saw she was to be catapulted to an unforeseen doom, and now kept her wits about her to plan an escape. She saw that the rock would settle down in the pool at about the same speed it took in rolling, and then she must be all prepared to spring off from its side, far out into the water, or be sucked underneath when it went down. If the pool was shallow, she would be forced to slide off at the moment the boulder struck and would be left standing up in the water. She must wait to determine the best chance to take. The time it took from the first starting of the rock down the grade to its striking the water was but a fraction of the time it takes to tell. Suddenly the huge boulder plunged into the quiet-looking pool, churning up the water to a froth, and instantly causing a "tidal wave" to raise the pool far beyond its customary water line and flow up the banks. The water, which had hitherto reflected every leaf and blade hanging over its surface, was so very deep that the monolith sank into its secret heart and was completely submerged. As the rock sank, Julie sprang, taking her chances in striking something in the pool. But she escaped accident, and swam out of the whirling waters almost before the boulder had disappeared. Tally reached the pool as she jumped, and now flung himself in to help rescue her. She was equal to the test, however, and came up on land, dripping, but exultant and breathless from the dance and swim. Tally helped her up the deep gully the rock had gouged out in its downward roll; and at the top where she had left Joan, there now stood waiting to embrace her, the entire party of riders. When all crying and hugging was ended, Julie laughed and said: "Folks, give me a boulder-ride in the Rockies, every time, instead of an ordinary toboggan! Even snowshoes and skis are tame in comparison." They laughed because they were so relieved at Julie's escape, but the Captain exchanged glances with Mr. Gilroy, and both shook their heads in despair of ever taming such a wild creature. "In future, Julie, leave a Rocky Mountain jay where it hides, and study the colored prints shown in the bird book," advised Mr. Vernon, who had felt both for himself and his wife the severe nervous strain while the incident was being enacted. "Oh, Uncle, half the fun of scouting in the Rockies comes from just these experiences. Just think of all we can talk about this winter, when we are hibernating at home!" exclaimed Julie, ready in spirit, at least, for another joy-ride. They now resumed the trip that had been so unexpectedly interrupted, and came to an elevation in the trail. From this point they had a glorious view of the surrounding peaks in the park. Tally pointed out Long's Peak, which towered over their heads, and Mt. Meeker alongside it, which appeared almost as high. Mt. Washington and Storm Peak were so closely allied to the first two heights that they looked like four points of the one mountain. Mr. Gilroy waved his hand to the northwest of Long's Peak, saying, "All that region is called Glacier Gorge, where we are bound for. There are concentrated the enormous gorges, cliffs, and other glaciated freaks caused by cataclysms that occurred aeons ago. In my opinion, there is no lake, waterfall, or other beauty of the Alps that can compare to this Glacier Gorge, and I have seen them all." "If we are so near by, why can't we visit them all?" asked Joan. Mrs. Vernon took fright, "_Never_--with the responsibility for you girls on my hands!" "But, Verny, if we slip, we won't be on your _hands_,--it will be a glaciated scout on an ice-floe," laughed Julie. Mr. Gilroy laughed. "And they'll be safer in glacier fields where they know there is great danger if they are careless, than beside quiet little pools, upon a rock that looks as solid as the planet itself." Mrs. Vernon now turned beseeching eyes upon her husband. "Dear, you will persuade Gilly not to lead us into such places?" "Oh, but Verny!" interpolated Julie. "Do let us go to see at least _one_ glacier!" "How can you, Julie! When _you_ are the one always getting into trouble!" returned the Captain, wonderingly. "Don't I always manage to get out of trouble again without causing any fatality--only amusement for the Troop?" They all admitted that this was true, and finally the Captain was coaxed to listen to the argument in favor of visiting the glaciers. "I haven't the slightest idea of riding past these glaciers and leaving Gilroy to explore them alone," remarked Mr. Vernon. "If we agree to tie ourselves to your apron-strings, Verny, will you feel resigned to our going?" asked Julie, meekly. "If five scouts dangle from my apron-strings, how can I scramble for myself?" laughed the Captain; but the girls knew she was weakening in her former refusal. With wise looks exchanged between scouts and the two men, the subject was dropped for the time being. So they descended the height where they had obtained such a fine view of the peaks, and rode along the trail that was so heavily screened by forest trees as to cast a gloaming underneath them, even in the brightest sunshine. "Gilly, how came these vast mountains here?" asked Judith. "Yes, Gilly, why are they not scattered impartially over the land?" added one of the other scouts. "While we are traveling along a good trail, let me tell you what I have gathered from scientific books on the subject," returned Mr. Gilroy. "It is evident that the Rockies were the first points of land to lift a head above the sea of water when the American Continent was born. As often happens in the families of mankind, where the youngest-born embraces all the points of beauty and abilities that are manifested in individual allotments to all other members of the same family, so it is with Nature's mountain-children. "The Rockies, being the youngest born of mountain ranges of the earth, inherited, as it were, the combined beauty and strength and characteristics that were the best in all the others. But there was no jealousy on the part of the older mountains of earth, and it is doubtful if any one of them even knew of this new-comer to the family group. Each had all it could do with its own affairs, in those by-gone cycles. "Of Earth's large family of mountains, the first-born to lift a head from sleep on the bosom of the 'mighty waters' were the British Isles. They were not high or mighty in geography, but they were destined to raise the highest and mightiest race of people on earth. "Then the Norseland awoke, and yawned so widely, that the pinnacles of its jagged shore-lines instantly molded themselves into barriers to protect the land from the inundation of the sea. Then while this awakening took place, the marvelous Antilles sat up from the cradle of the ocean and cried to Mother Nature to be lifted out of their bed. And Nature, who abhors a vacuum, gave her eager help to South America. "Having given birth to these fine prominences, Nature seemed disinclined to cease from her creative activity. She believed it best to finish the allotted number of children, and then raise them all together. So the mountains of Labrador appeared, closely followed by the Atlantic Coast mountains. "Then something happened in the bowels of the earth-planet that caused it to swallow so much salt-water from the seas that had covered its surface, that the great ranges of the Rockies stood up. "Aeons passed during this great upheaval, and aeons more passed before islands dotted the 'face of the waters' and God said 'Let there be' and there was! "It is said that the tremendous struggle in the womb of Mother Earth to give birth to the Rockies was Nature's hardest labor. As we gaze on the result of the mighty upheaval that has given us these wonderful mountains, does not your imagination paint 'cause and effect' better than mere words ever can?" With many eager questions from the scouts, about cataclysms, glaciers, volcanoes, and other forces that helped build the dry land above the face of the seas, and with Mr. Gilroy's lucid and interesting descriptions of such work, the party reached the beautiful tract known as Estes Park. "Here's where we camp for the night, Scouts,--unless you have something more important to do," announced Mr. Gilroy. They laughed. "Now, Gilly! What more important date is there than to eat a good supper," added Anne. The scouts teased her at that, but Mr. Vernon said, "I have an important date for those who will go with me." He took up his fishing tackle, and instantly the scouts signified their eagerness to "keep the date" he had with the fish. Mr. Gilroy remained with Tally to look after camp arrangements and unload the mules. Then the horses and mules were turned out to pasture, while supper was prepared. Because of the heavily wooded country they were to go through, Tally had not bothered to carry any tentpoles. It was an easy matter to run the ropes through the eyelets of the canvas, and string up the shelter to handy tree trunks. Hence the tents were up, and Mrs. Vernon was asked to weave the balsam beds upon the ground, inside them, before the girls returned. Fuel was plentiful and a fire was soon burning, whereby supper could be cooked. Tally now began preparing his various dishes for the meal, while the Captain spread out the cloth on the grass for a table. So excellent is the fishing in these forests, that the two camp-cooks had not had time to complete baking the bread-twist, or boil the potatoes, before the anglers arrived with a fine mess of fish. These were cleaned and placed in the large frying-pan where red-and-white streaked slices of bacon were crisping. The savory odor that soon arose to mingle with the immediate surrounding air made every one sniff audibly, and wish supper was ready to eat. While the Captain added the finishing touches to the supper, she remarked to the scouts: "I keep brushing so many little black insects from the cloth, and yet they seem to swarm about more than ever. Ask Tally what I can do to drive them away." Mr. Gilroy overheard her, and replied, "I guess we are in for a plague of midges. No use trying to get rid of them by hand, and no use moving camp, as they infest the woods all about, when they do appear; and they last, sometimes, for several days, then they disappear as suddenly as they came." As the scouts began to scratch at faces, necks, and limbs, Tally remarked, encouragingly: "De's not so badder." "I hope you don't raise any worse pests than these in your Rockies!" cried Ruth, her hands and face red from irritation. "Jus' wait. De'se meegies go wid sun, but moskeet--he come an' sing all night, an' bite all same." In spite of the discomfort the little black imps caused, the scouts had to laugh at Tally's form of condolence. Evidently he, with his tough skin, preferred midges to songsters at night. "Why should they swarm about now, when we never saw one on the way here?" asked Joan, in an aggrieved tone. "It's going to rain, and that always drives them up from the underbrush and wet places where they live during the dry hours," explained Mr. Gilroy. He had been occupied in crushing caribou leaves between his palms, and now the scouts turned to watch him. When he had extracted the juice from the leaves, he showed the girls how he rubbed it over his neck, face, and arms. This was very effective to keep away the pests for a time; but one had to keep on rubbing the fresh leaf-juice on the skin at intervals because the moisture evaporated with the heat from the body. Supper--and it was a delicious one--over, Mr. Gilroy said to the guide, "Tally, we've got to make a smudge fire all right." "Um!" agreed Tally, "see tent; him all cover wid bites." The girls laughed at the Indian's graphic words, for the canvas was black with pests,--mosquitoes and black flies, as well as the midges. Every available pan was requisitioned for use as braziers. And movable smokes, that Tally manufactured of pine shavings, smudged with damp material, effectively fumigated the camp and drove away most of the insects. But the scouts had to wave balsam fans quite vigorously to make the choking smoke that circled about them eddy away. Tally arranged a chain of these smudge-fires about the camp ground, and provided elaborate means of keeping the pests away through the night. But all precautions were useless when the mean little mosquitoes got in between the open places in the canvas, and began their songs. Every one was healthily tired, though, and all the needlelike thrusts of the insects could not keep the girls awake. In the morning, Julie said, "What should we have done if Tally had not smoked away millions of the creatures!" And Joan said, "Why, infinitesimal atoms of Dandelion Troop would now be flying all over Estes Park to await Judgment Day!" CHAPTER SIX A MULE'S PLEASANTRIES Long's Peak had been "done" to every one's satisfaction, and other neighboring peaks had been scaled. Estes Park was now becoming so familiar an environment that the scouts no longer thrilled at each new experience, but were eagerly looking forward to fresh excitement. "Well, Tally, how about trekking northwards?" asked Mr. Gilroy of the guide, one night after supper. "All 'leddy," returned the Indian. "Frolic and Jolt seem to be deucedly gay after this long vacation," ventured Mr. Vernon, eyeing the frisky pack-mules. "Um--Jolt him big kick," said Tally, signifying with a hand held above his head, how high the animal kicked that day. "Our next lap of the journey will take all this freshness out of him, never fear!" laughed Mr. Gilroy. That night while the scouts slept heavily, Tally heard a sound from the corral where he kept the horses and mules. He jumped up and ran over, but Jolt had broken his halter and had disappeared. He roused Mr. Gilroy and told him the news. "Oh, let the old rascal go!" mumbled he, then turned over on his side and was fast asleep again. So Tally literally obeyed. In the morning, however, Mr. Gilroy thought differently about his advice. Jolt was the best and strongest of the two mules, and the luggage of so many tourists was too much for Frolic, the smaller of the pack-animals. Mr. Gilroy sighed heavily. "Well, the only thing to do is for all hands to turn out and hunt for Jolt." "Why not have Verny and Betty, the two tender scouts of the troop, stay and strike camp?" asked Mr. Vernon. "We can go for the mule, while they pack everything and get ready for a start along the trail when we return." In spite of the Captain's vehement declarations that she was not to be classed as too young or tender to enjoy a wild hunt for a fractious mule, the two were left behind, and the others started down the trail. After many wanderings along side trails that offered temptations to such a wayward beast as Jolt, the hunters found him. Yes, Jolt was found, but it was another thing to catch him! After many vain attempts, Tally finally lassoed him, but the kicking, jumping animal seemed to think the more he performed the better the scouts liked it. After an absence of an hour, the captors filed back to camp, where Frolic--contrarily named--stood meekly waiting to be harnessed with the packs. While Tally placed the two wooden crates on Frolic's back, Mr. Gilroy essayed to do the same with Jolt. But the mule had other intentions. The moment he felt the touch of the pack-frame he lit out with both hind legs. Poor Gilly not only caved in suddenly in the region under his belt, but he also sat down unceremoniously several paces behind Jolt. "Um! Some bad Jolt!" declared Tally, scowling at the mule. The opportune words were so amusing, that every one, Mr. Gilroy included, simply roared. But the Indian looked at them in silent wonderment. To his mind, these white men were _always_ laughing. Mr. Vernon now caught hold of Jolt's bit and held his head firmly between both hands, while Tally "hitched" the mule's feet so he could not kick or run again. Then the crates were strapped on and the packing began. Jolt had the heaviest articles roped upon his packs. The canvas, blankets, and camping outfits were his portion. Frolic carried the duffel-bags and lighter baggage. Finally all were ready for the start. The scouts got into the saddles, and Mr. Vernon followed suit. Tally and Mr. Gilroy were strapping the last leather around Frolic's packs. It was necessary to pull it in another hole to keep the pack from slipping under the beast's belly, but while Tally was so pulling it, Frolic gave a grunt. Another yank at the straps, and another louder grunt from Frolic made Betty interfere. "I just know you are hurting poor Frolic dreadfully! She'll have a bad stomachache from those straps that are cutting her in half!" Every one laughed at Betty's concern, but it drew attention to the work going on; and so, in watching Frolic being strapped up, every one forgot about Jolt. The old rascal saw his opportunity to escape to the delectable grazing ground from which he had been ruthlessly lassoed a short time before. So he wheeled and started for the trail. But he forgot to make allowances for the projecting packs, and in passing between two tall pines with but a foot's space between the trunks, the crates became firmly wedged. So fast was he held, in fact, that Tally grinned when Julie yelled, "Jolt's running away again!" Tally reassured her, "Jolt no run now--him rest awhile." When Frolic had been made ready to start, the men went after Jolt. The aluminum cooking-ware had been hung, the last thing, upon the sides of the packs, and now the dishes were dented almost out of shape because they were the "bumpers" that came between the packs and the treetrunks. It took some time to dislodge the mule and his packs from between the trees, as it was necessary to protect the cooking utensils as much as possible. This delicate operation was just being completed, when a cry from the scouts drew all attention back to Frolic again. The tautly-drawn ropes caused Frolic an unpleasant sensation after the days of freedom from harness, so when she was left quite alone, she decided that rolling might ease matters. She lay down and rolled and kicked her heels high in the air, then she rolled again. She kept it up until the scouts knew that every bottle and box in their duffel-bags must be powdered into other necessities. Tally rushed over and gave Frolic a vicious kick that instantly stopped her rolling, and caused her to lift inquiring eyes to those about her. Strange to say, Betty offered no protest when Tally kicked the mule again, to make her get upon her feet. "There, now!" exclaimed Julie. "See that you maintain an upright behavior, you shiftless woman!" The others laughed, for all were gay because the signal had been given to start along the trail. All went well after that, while the mules trotted closely after the horses, and the riders congratulated themselves that henceforth their troubles with the two mules were over. But they were to be undeceived further on. They were descending a long rough hill when Jolt, who was the last beast but one in the line, heard a strange sound coming from his packs. Tally heard and recognized the metallic banging of some pans that had become loosened when the packs were wedged between the tree trunks at the top of the mountain. But Jolt was not as wise as Tally, and the more he shook himself, and sidled against the trees, the louder came that queer jangle. Then he managed to pass between two trees in order to brush off the objectionable thing, but that made the jangling still worse. So he became desperate. About this time, Tally rode over to the place where Jolt was trying to crush the noisy thing from his pack, and attempted to use a lash to make the beast stop his stubbornness. But the tip end of the whip was all that caught the mule, and he suddenly jumped. That made all the other utensils shake loose and rattle. This was too much for the annoyed animal, and he started to gallop down the trail. Warning shouts from Tally made the riders in front get out of the way; the guide then threw his lasso. But it caught upon a knob that had become loose and was projecting from the crate. Jolt flew onward, but the large object that had been roped, fell upon the ground with a dull thud. To every one's shocked surprise, the lassoed article proved to be the only bag of flour they had at that time. The cotton container burst open with the fall, and flour dusted softly out upon the surrounding scenery. "We can scoop most of it up and sift it," suggested Joan. "But what is there to put it in?" demanded Julie. "It's so precious--we mustn't lose an ounce of it," added the Captain. "We'll each have to take one of our large clean handkerchiefs, and fill as much in them as they will hold. The ends can be tied together, and each will have to carry her own package," suggested Anne, who was worried lest a good meal be forfeited. "That's the only way, I guess," agreed Mrs. Vernon; so each one filled a handkerchief, and the rest of the flour was then pinned in the bag and carefully placed in Mr. Gilroy's charge. When the riders were on the trail again, there was no sight of Jolt anywhere. Where he had gone with the camp outfit was a question. But Tally worried not. He said laconically: "Jolt wait nex' uphill." When the scouts reached the bottom of the descent, they found a swiftly-running shallow stream crossing the trail. And in this, with both packs submerged, but with head safely held above the cooling water, Jolt was stretched out. "There he would stay, I suppose, until he was sure the queer life that made the jangle on his back, was snuffed out," said Mr. Gilroy, chuckling at the mule's "horse-sense." That day when they stopped to cook dinner, Tally was most careful to leave the pack-frames on the backs of the mules, as that would prevent fresh arguments when the time came to resume the trip. Fish abounded everywhere,--in the streams, in the lakes, or in the wayside rivulets,--so that there was never a lack of such food. Nor did it need expert anglers to catch the fish. It seemed to the scouts that the poor things were only waiting eagerly to be caught. Having selected the camp site, Tally suddenly stooped and examined some recently made tracks. "Bear ben here," said he. "Oh, a real live bear?" cried Joan. "Did you think a dead one made those tracks?" retorted Ruth. "I wish we could see him," said Julie, and this wish was seconded by all the other girls. "If you want a close acquaintance with him, just follow that track. Doubtless he is sitting behind a treetrunk this very minute, planning what to do with you after he has embraced you fondly," said Mrs. Vernon. "If they follow bear tracks like they followed the calf's hoofprints, they'll sure find something at the end of the trail," teased Mr. Gilroy. All that morning the sun had remained under a heavy pall of clouds, but noon brought forth its hot shining rays, and the long-reaching fingers seeming to edge the grey clouds with molten gold. During the afternoon the sun had shone fitfully, but towards evening it set in a gorgeous bath of color, the stormbanks that were piled up about it, adding a barbaric touch to the scene. Flaunting streaks of gold and crimson shot here and there from back of the clouds; and these in turn seemed to reach out in a confused riot of dazzling purple, amber and copper-edged mountains that rose in majesty overhead. All this wondrous coloring faded rapidly, however, and in a short time the somber gray of the clouds again predominated. Then a chill spread over everything. "Him rain sure!" remarked Tally, holding a palm to the wind. "When?" asked Mr. Gilroy. "Mebbe bed-time--mebbe after night." "Then we'd better prepare for it beforehand," suggested Mr. Vernon. "Collect plenty of wood and spread the rubber sheets over it," said Mr. Gilroy. "We'll see that the tent ropes are well fastened to-night so the wind won't carry away any canvas." Tally was right. Rain began to fall about nine o'clock. At first it came gently and unobtrusively, but soon it was driven in sheets by high winds. It was well the guide had rolled great pine stumps to the fire, to keep the necessary fuel dry through the night. Although the scouts, rolled in their rubber covers, were unconscious of the elements that raged about and over them, Tally sat up feeding the fire that kept an area about the sleepers dry all night. Now and then the demoniacal gale would root up a mighty pine, and with a s-s-split and a cr-r-r-rash it would thud down, breaking through all the younger timber. At such sounds, the girls would murmur sleepily, "Did you see any old trees near camp?" Invariably the reply would be, "No--only little ones." Then all would sleep again, relieved at such an assurance. The camp presented a sorry appearance in the gray dawn. Everything was soaked, and the horses looked washed out. Even Jolt looked moister than when he rose out of the stream at the base of the mountain. Later the sun glanced through dripping foliage and sent its warming beams into the stiffened joints of the campers. And when Tally had called them all to a good hot breakfast, life took on a more cheerful hue. The tourists seldom followed the beaten trail that ran to Flat Top Mountain or to the Glaciers, because Mr. Gilroy secured better results in finding rock formations and glacial débris in going by the old Indian trails. And Tally knew these trails as well as the surveyor knows his line-maps. Not long after the scouts had resumed their ride along one of the unfrequented trails, the party reached a mountaintop. The Leader turned her head and craned her neck in order to see what the object was that stood clearly outlined from a crag that hung over a dangerous gulch. "A Rocky Mountain goat! I verily believe," said Mr. Gilroy. "Oh, oh! That's what we want to see!" cried the girls. "And I want to get a good picture of it," added the Captain. "Now's your opportunity," returned her husband. "But we are too far away to focus the camera." "If the goat will wait, you might go over there," laughed Mr. Gilroy. "Verny, we could ride across this plateau and manage to get a much better focus," suggested Julie. "And there may be a whole herd feeding on the grass down in the glade between these cliffs," said Mr. Gilroy. "Oh, let's go and see!" teased the scouts; so the horses were left with Tally, and their riders crept carefully across the grassy knolls and glades that hid from their view the ravine where they hoped to see the goats. They were well rewarded for their trouble, too. Down in the green basin, under the crag where the ram kept guard for his sheep and ewes, grazed a large flock of Rocky Mountain goats. The scouts had a sight such as few tourists ever are blessed with, and Mrs. Vernon took a whole film of excellent snapshots,--all but one exposure, and that was left on the chance of an unusual sight. While they stood watching the herd, a great ram was seen bounding recklessly along the edge of the cliff that formed the wall of the glade directly opposite the scouts. He nimbly jumped from ledge to ledge down this almost perpendicular wall, and soon reached the herd. Then another ram, that first sighted by the riders, also started down, going where there seemed to be absolutely no foothold for him. He would spring from the ledge and, scarcely touching the side rock with his hoofs, land upon a bit of shelf, thence on down to another tiny ledge far beneath, and so on until he reached the glade. The two rams now conveyed an alarm to the sheep, and forthwith they started up the perpendicular wall at the end of the glen, winding a way along one ledge after another where no visible foothold was seen with the naked eye. Yet _they_ found one, for they climbed, and having reached the top of the wall, they disappeared. "Oh, pshaw! I meant to snap the last exposure with that wonderful picture of the herd going up the wall," exclaimed Mrs. Vernon in evident disappointment. "You're lucky to get the ones you did, Captain. These Rocky Mountain sheep are the wildest on earth, and seldom can man come near enough to get snapshots as you did to-day. The Peruvian goats and those in Arabia are agile and daring, but they do not compare with these goats for agility, and faith in their footsteps. "When we go further North in the mountains, this scene we just witnessed will seem like child's play to the feats those goats will accomplish. "The lambs are even more intrepid than the elders, and have not the slightest bit of fear of falling. Strangely enough, they seldom fall, and are hardly ever injured. It is said that the only risks they run are when they happen to jump in strange territory where the ledges and footholds are not understood." As Mr. Gilroy finished his interesting description, Mr. Vernon added, "I've read that the injuries or death that come to these little athletes are due to their traveling in strange places and along unfamiliar trails, as you just mentioned. But in their own crags and mountain recesses, no hunter can ever trap them. They will jump, no matter from what height, and are always sure of a secure footing somewhere." The scouts were so absorbed in listening that they had paid little attention to their own footsteps as they retraced their way to join Tally. Here and there were small pits almost hidden by the long slippery grass that grew on and hung over the edges. Julie was about to draw every one's attention to a great bird that hovered overhead, when her foot slipped on such grass and, in trying to catch hold of something to waylay her descent into the shallow pit, she managed to lay hold of Mr. Gilroy's leg. In another moment, he was sliding down with her. "Look pleasant!" warned the Captain, as she quickly snapped a picture on the last exposure of the roll, and then laughed merrily as she turned the knob that wound up the film securely. When the two coasters managed to scramble out of the hollow, midst the laughter of all, Mrs. Vernon said, "I am glad now that my last picture will be one so fitting to be shown with the others of the Rocky Mountain Athletes." [Illustration: A great ram came out opposite the scouts] CHAPTER SEVEN TALLY AND OMNEY ENTERTAIN While seeking for a likely spot where they could pitch camp that night, Mr. Vernon saw smoke ascending from the pines a short distance away. Fearing lest a fire had started in some way, Mr. Gilroy and he quickly sought for the place and came upon an old acquaintance. Mr. Lewis and his guide, Omney, to say nothing of their Irish terrier, Scrub, were in camp, eating supper. It was a pleasant surprise for both Mr. Lewis and Mr. Gilroy, as the two geologists had not met since their trip in the mountains many years before. So both parties soon joined camps and enjoyed themselves immensely. After supper that night, the girl scouts heard of many wonderful experiences these friends had shared--the jaunts and jeopardies that always provide such thrilling stories after they are over. Finally Mr. Lewis remarked, "I came here this summer to hunt out a few of those glacial specimens we missed the last time, Gilroy." "Now, that's strange, Lewis, because that is why I am here. Dr. Hayden mentions some in his latest book, and Tyndall Glacier is the only place I've ever heard of where there is any such moraine," said Mr. Gilroy. "Have you been there, yet?" asked Mr. Lewis. "No, 'but I'm on my way,'" laughed the scientist. "Then take me with you, old pal! How about the rest of your party," said Mr. Lewis. "Oh, Mr. Vernon is fast becoming as infatuated with the hunt for specimens as you or I ever were. So we'll share fifty-fifty if we can find anything worthwhile." "And the ladies?" added Mr. Lewis. "As they are tried and trusty scouts, they are fit for any trial of courage or endurance--is that enough?" "That's a splendid recommendation for any one, Gilroy, but have you told them that exploring these glaciers is not as easy as sitting beside a fire and talking of the thrills?" "I have no idea of dragging them down through the moraines with us; but they can accompany us on the trail and enjoy the camp while we wander about in our hunting. The guides can plan the girls' recreation for the time we are absent. Now, how does that strike every one?" said Mr. Gilroy. Of course, every one agreed that the plan was great, so they rode forward in the morning, bound for the district around Tyndall Glacier. When they found a place that would make a comfortable camp for the time, the Indians went to work to arrange things for a week, or more, according to the geologists' plans. Camp was pitched upon a knoll with plenty of pine trees so standing that natural tentpoles were readymade. The rain would drain from all sides of the knoll, and at one side ran a stream of pure spring-water. From the front of this campsite one could see the cold forbidding peak of Tyndall Glacier. Mr. Lewis's guide, whose baptismal name was as difficult to pronounce as Tally's, was called Omney,--that being a good imitation of what it really was. Julie, who was always doing something funny, named him "Hominy." As soon as the campsite had been decided upon, the two guides told the scouts to clear away all excrescences from the ground. This meant they had to take axes and cut out all brush and roots that would interfere with comfortable walking about. Then the girls said the place was as clean as a whistle, and Tally went over it carefully. But it was amazing how many "stick-up" obstacles he found, where everything had seemed so smooth. While Tally was doing this, Omney supervised the cooking of supper, and soon various savory odors greeted the nostrils of the hungry scouts. Every one was ready to eat when Omney announced that it was ready, and then there was a period of silence for a time. Supper was over with the sunset, and the long purpling shadows of the mountains crept up while the guides placed fresh fuel on the fire and sat down to smoke their pipes. The Rocky Mountain wilderness, untamed as yet, closed in about the group that sat around the fire, while certain unfamiliar sounds of wildlife in the forest reached the ears of the scouts; but they cared not for prowling creatures there and then, because the campfire provided ample protection. The two Indians, not having seen each other since their masters' last trip, were in high feather; and when Mr. Gilroy suggested that they entertain the party, they quickly responded. Omney first chanted his tribe's Medicine Song; but before he sang he made obeisance to the four winds of heaven,--the North, East, South, and West,--that neither wind should forget Him who held them in the palms of His hands. He then explained that this honor and the song to follow were the opening forms to their daily worship of the Great Spirit. He began in a deep-toned rhythmical chant, and he proceeded with the syncopated melody, now and then sifting in some queer sounds that _may_ have been words, while he kept time with hands and feet. Finally this motion seemed to become an obsession, and he accompanied his sudden cries and exclamations with muscular actions and twists of his supple limbs. When he reached this point in the Medicine Song, Tally caught up a pan, and with muffled sticks beat time to the singing. After a period of this weird performance, Omney began to circle the fire; Tally springing up, followed him in the dance. Their bodies doubled, turned, and twisted about, as if controlled by galvanic batteries. Their sharp ejaculations and hisses, interspersed in the singing, gave a colorful effect impossible to describe. Suddenly, as if arrested by a shock, both Indians stood erect and perfectly still. They turned as if on pivots to glance upward, and saluted the four winds of heaven; then walked slowly over and sat down. Their performance was ended. The encore they received was acknowledged with dignified smiles, but Omney made no sign to repeat his act. Then Tally stood up and bowed. He caught up a blanket that covered a balsam bed near by, and wrapped it about his erect form. He walked to the center of the camp circle and made a graceful acknowledgment for both entertainers; then he began to speak in a softly modulated voice, and with gestures that would have created envy in the best elocutionist, fascinating to any one who knew him as the quiet and unobtrusive guide. "Brothers, I tell you the tale of the Blackfeet Tribe, how Thunder won his bride, and lost her again. "In the long ago, when the Sky-People used to visit the Earth-Folk frequently, to demand pelts and other good things from the Earth Children in return for sparing their camps from the destructive lightnings and floods, three young maidens went to the woods to dig herbs. "One of these three was the loveliest maiden to be found for many a league, and many a Brave had tried to win her affections. But she was fond only of her old father, Lame Bull. "While Mink Maiden and her two companions were placing their herbs in bundles to carry back to camp, a dark thundercloud swept over the place, and passed on. However, it seemed as if venting its fury on the camp where the maidens lived. "Then fell Mink Maiden upon her knees and promised Thunder Chief, saying, 'Spare my father and I will obey you in any way you may desire.' "Thunder laughed, for that was exactly what he had hoped for. He instantly withdrew his storm from over the terrified village, and came close to the maiden who had made the rash promise. "'I shall come for you soon, Mink Maiden, to ask you to keep your word.' With these words, Thunder flew away to the sky and disappeared through a hole. "Soon again, the three maidens went to the woods for herbs and while two of them stopped to dig some roots, Mink Maiden went on alone. She saw a plant, rare and greatly desired by Lame Bull, and she pushed a way through the bushes to dig up the root. But when she reached the spot where it had been, she saw nothing. "Suddenly, without sound or other sign, a handsome young chief stood where the plant had been. Mink Maiden was surprised, but when he spoke, saying, 'I am waiting for you to be my bride--will you come with me?' the maiden knew him. "'I am Thunder Chief, and am come to have you redeem your vow.' "Mink Maiden saw that he was tall and handsome, and naturally brave. He smiled so kindly that she knew he was gentle. But she coyly asked, 'What must I do to keep my word with you?' "'Be my wife. Come with me to reign over the Sky People, for I am their Chief.' As he spoke he held forth his hands, and Mink Maiden placed her own confidently within his. "He enfolded her closely in his cloak of winds, and springing up from the ground, carried her through the hole in the sky. "When the two companions of Mink Maiden sought for her, she was not to be found anywhere. They ran to Lame Bull's lodge to tell him of her disappearance, and the entire village turned out to seek her. Everywhere they sought her, for she was beloved by young and old alike, but she was not found nor did they hear what had happened to her. "Then came a stranger to that village and asked for Lame Bull's lodge. He was Medicine Crow Man, who had long desired Mink Maiden for a wife. He had heard of her disappearance and by making strong medicine had learned where she was. "After telling Lame Bull how he loved his daughter, and that he had power to find her, the old father promised that should Crow Man but find where she was, he should have Mink Maiden for a wife when she returned home. "Crow Man then caught a blackbird and poured oil of black magic on his tail feathers. The bird was sent up into the sky to find if the lost maiden could be enticed to come back home. After several days the blackbird returned to Crow Man. "'I could not fly through the hole in the sky, as the people have been ordered to close it with a great plant-root. But I sat on the under part of the roots and heard what was said. And this is it: "'Thunder Chief carried Mink Maiden away to be his wife. He commanded that the hole be sealed, that his bride might not see through it and be tempted to return to her home. I heard say that she is very happy with Thunder Chief, and never thinks of those she left on earth.' "'Very good, Blackbird, and for this news your tail feathers shall always shine as if with oil. But your curiosity and love for gossip must remain part of your weaknesses,' said Crow Man. "He then went to Lame Bull and told all that he had learned through the blackbird. Then the villagers began to mourn Mink Maiden as one lost to them, for they never expected to see her again. But Crow Man determined to use every art in his power until she should come back. "Time went by and the maiden was contented with Thunder Chief, and never remembered her earth people, for the root choked up the hole in the sky where memory might slip through. "But one day she saw some people bring home herbs and roots which they had dug for the Chief. Mink Maiden asked them where they found them as she, too, wished to dig some. They told her where to go for them, and with basket on her arm she went forth. "It happened that it was the summertime, when Thunder Chief had to be away many times, fighting the earth people with storms, so she wandered away alone from the lodge where she lived with her husband. "She sought eagerly for the plant she wanted, until she finally came to the great root that blocked the hole in the sky. This she thought must be the place where the other women dug, and she forthwith began to dig also. When she had dug deeply, she pulled on the root, and up it came, leaving a great hole where it had been. "Mink Maiden was amazed at the size of the root, and leaning over, gazed into the hole, and far down saw the earth. At the same time a blackbird flew quite near the hole, and said, 'Mink Maiden, your father cries for you to come home.' "Then memory returned to the maiden, and she remembered her people. When Thunder Chief returned from his battles, he found his beloved wife in tears. She cried that she wished to visit her own people on earth. And so, after useless pleadings with her, the husband agreed to take her home for a visit. "Accordingly, he flew with her to Lame Bull's lodge and left her to visit her father. She looked well and comely, and the old Chief was overjoyed to see his child again. When she told how happy she was with Thunder Chief, the father sighed. "'I had hoped you would choose to live on earth where I could visit you. Crow Man loves you, and has been here many times to ask for you.' Lame Bull then told of the promise he had made Crow Man. "But the Mink Maiden laughed, saying, 'I am married to Thunder Chief, so Crow Man cannot have me.' "In a short time after this, Thunder Chief came for his wife, and asked Lame Bull to forgive him for carrying away his only child. Then Lame Bull said, 'Allow her to remain yet a short time.' "Thunder Chief presented his father-in-law with a Medicine pipe, and taught him to sing the Sky Song that would always protect his tribe from storms and destruction from lightning. Then he turned to his wife and bade her good-by for a time, adding, 'I will return soon for you, so be ready to go home. You shall visit your father often after this.' "He then flew away and Mink Maiden sat with her father for several days, waiting for her husband to come. But there had been a dreadful commotion in the sky the day after he flew away from the village, and the people said they had never seen such blinding lights and such terrific rumbles, so the wife knew her husband was having a great battle with some one. "The cause was, Crow Man had fought with Thunder Chief, although Mink Maiden never knew that. Crow Man was subdued for that time, but in the fall he sent the blackbird northward to call out all the Arctic forces to come and help keep Thunder Chief from coming to earth to carry back his wife. And so they did. "Crow Man called often at Lame Bull's lodge and all through the winter, when Mink Maiden sighed because her husband came not, Crow Man felt happy and tried to make her believe Thunder Chief had forgotten her. "Then spring came on, and Mink Maiden wondered still more because she heard nothing of her husband, nor came he to the lodge. Crow Man urged his suit, but she laughed, for she was a wife already, she told him. "All through that second year she sat in her father's lodge and waited; but not a word heard she from the Sky People, nor did Thunder Chief come for her, although she was told that he had been heard of in other parts of the country, so it was learned that he was alive and active. Strange to say, neither Mink Maiden nor Lame Bull remembered the Medicine that had been given the old Chief, to keep away all storms from the tribe. This had proved so effectual that Thunder Chief could not communicate with his wife because of it, and she never went beyond the village limits, where he might have met her. "That winter Crow Man urged his love again, and begged Mink Maiden to marry him, so she finally sighed and said: "'I am Thunder Chief's wife, but if he does not come to claim me in another year, I will go with you.' "Crow Man was overjoyed at hearing this, and he worked very hard to keep away all reports of Thunder Chief from the village. Then, as Mink Maiden waited hopelessly for the return of her husband, the year rolled by and Crow Man came for her. So she followed him to his lodge, although she still remembered Thunder Chief with regret. "Crow Man was jealous of her memories and was determined to cure her. So he planned a dreadful thing. He sent the blackbird for the North Forces, and when they came in obedience to his order, he told them what they must do. "Then he asked Mink Maiden to walk with him through the lovely woods a distance from the village. And as they walked, the wife saw Thunder Chief approach with outstretched arms and call to her in a yearning voice. He cried, 'At last, my beloved, you are where I can reach you. All these moons have I longed to meet you, but you sat in the lodge where my own Medicine that I gave your father, kept me away.' "Thunder Chief hurried forward, but the Arctic Forces ran out from their hiding-places and fell upon Thunder Chief, just as he was waiting to enfold his beloved in his cloak. With their cold icy blasts and whirling snow and sleet, they overpowered poor Thunder Chief. In spite of his roaring and sharp lightnings, his power was frozen into sharp points. And that is how icicles came to be upon all Nature's trees and bushes when the North Forces scatter broadcast the power of the Sky Forces. "Mink Maiden saw her beloved turned to ice before her eyes, and she went away, weeping, to her home with Lame Bull. And Crow Man besought her in vain to return to his lodge. She would not, and that is why the Crow always calls, 'Come, come, come!' "And every year when the time returns that Thunder Chief came for his bride and the North Forces overpowered him, you will see Mink Maiden come from the woods, weeping over her lost love." When Tally concluded this legend, the scouts called for another, but Mr. Gilroy mentioned that the three men planned to get an early start for the glacier fields and it was time to retire. So the two guides prepared the fire for the night and the girls began their good-nights. Mr. Lewis stopped them, however. "Scouts, I want to say a word to you. I notice that you do not know the Indian walk--the only way to walk in the woods and not grow weary. In fact, the way all the wild creatures walk, whether they run or creep, without making a sound that will attract attention to them." "No one ever gave it a thought, Lewis," admitted Mr. Gilroy. "Now that you mention it, suppose you show the girls, and let them practice, to-morrow, with the guides to teach them." Mr. Lewis then demonstrated the white man's walk and the natural gait of the Indian. The two guides walked to show exactly what he meant, and then the girls were told to do it. "Walk perfectly erect,--not leaning from the waist-line forward, as most people do. Plant your feet with more weight coming upon the sole instead of on the heel of the foot. Always turn your toes straight forward, and take your steps, one foot directly in front of the other so that the track you leave will look like a one-footed man walking a chalk-line. "Once you have acquired this gait, you will wonder that you ever walked in any other manner. You can walk a narrow ledge, or stick to any foothold that a living creature can go on, without slipping from lack of room for your feet. "But the greatest benefit such a walk is for one in the forests, is that you can proceed without making any noise. You will not be soaked with the dew that remains on leaves or undergrowth; and after you have taken a long hike you will feel fresh, and have enough energy to start on another trip." The scouts practiced that night, and had many a good laugh at the awkward steps they took when first trying the Indian gait. But they finally acquired it, and with daily practice in the woods, they soon walked as well as Mr. Lewis himself. CHAPTER EIGHT SCRUB'S UNEXPECTED HUNTING TRIP Mr. Lewis's dog, Scrub, was a never-ending source of fun and entertainment for the scouts. He was a most intelligent animal, and understood everything said to him. In fact, his owner said that Scrub was far more intelligent and practical than many human beings he had known. He also told the girls that they could follow Scrub into the woods if the guides could not go with them, and he would always bring them back by easy trails--he had such a wonderful sense of location and traveling. The first day in camp, after the three men had started for the glacier field, Tally and Omney had to complete minor details in the camping arrangements, so the scouts did not ask to be taken for a hike up the mountainside. Scrub nosed about for a time, trying to attract the girls' attention by his "talk" but when they failed to understand, he ran away alone, and was not seen again until late that afternoon. He came tearing into camp, barking excitedly, and jumping about the guides and the scouts, as if to tell them of some thrilling adventure he had experienced in the woods that day. They made much of him, but finally his master scolded him for barking so shrilly, so Scrub placed his stub tail between his hind legs and crept under a tree. The next day Scrub began again to caper about and bark excitedly to invite the scouts to go hunting with him. But they laughed, and Julie said to him, "We're going with Tally and Hominy after a while." It was not, however, to Scrub's liking that they tarried so long in camp, and he started away alone. Then when the guides were all ready to go with the scouts, the dog was not to be found. "Ev'buddy take gun dis time," suggested Tally. "Oh, what fun! Shall we find any wild animals?" asked Joan. "Mebbe--dunno." The Captain warned the girls about using the rifles without first noting all the conditions, and told them not to use them under any circumstances if there was no danger. As each scout knew perfectly well how to carry the firearm so as to protect others, and as every one used precaution at all times, there was no risk of accident. The woods were still wet from the heavy night-dew, but the girls found their newly-acquired step protected their skirts from much moisture. The sun was sending its searching light into every secret nook of the forest, and soon the dew evaporated and the gloom in the dense woods brightened. The many hitherto hidden things in the forest now stood clearly revealed in the sunshine. They followed the trail that led up the mountainside back of the camp. Tally waved his hand in an inclusive sweep at the sun, then at the forest it shone upon, and remarked, "Him no shine in long. Onny mornin'--den shadow come back an' fores' grow black agin." The scouts were eagerly gazing at one thing or another in their progress up the steep trail when Betty gave a little cry and jumped out of the way. "What is it--a rattler?" cried many voices, anxiously. "No, but the cutest little rabbit I ever saw,--just like the one Verny caught and helped in the Adirondacks, you know." Tally then added, "No rattlers on dis side Rockies, all on udder side mountains." "Betty's scream would make one think she was facing a grizzly!" said Julie, scornfully. "I wasn't frightened,--it startled me, that's all," Betty said, defensively. "Was it big enough for rabbit pie?" asked Anne, unwittingly calling down the reproaches of all the scouts upon her head. As they scolded Anne for always thinking of something to eat,--even a darling little rabbit,--Tally suddenly held up a hand for silence. Instantly everything was quiet. Then they heard distinctly the plaintive cry of a distressed animal. "Dat deer call. Him 'fraid an' need help. Shall us go?" explained Tally. "Oh, yes, Tally, by all means!" exclaimed Mrs. Vernon. So they pushed a way through the thick screen of pines until they came to a clearing where the trees had been burned down. The sun shone into the place, clearly showing the scene of a forest tragedy which was about to be enacted there. The two guides made way for the scouts to crowd up beside them, and there they saw a well-grown deer in the center of the tiny park. It was still young and inexperienced, as was shown by the way it backed around and voiced its horror and fear. "What is it afraid of, Tally?" questioned the Captain, because her unaccustomed eyes saw nothing to fear. "See on limb dere--where deer must go if she like to get out?" whispered Tally, pointing to one end of the clearing where a giant pine spread its branches far over the place. Along the lowest bough crouched a panther, ready to leap. Its green eyes gleamed with hungry desire for the choice breakfast so near, and its sinuous tail whipped gracefully back and forth against the tree. But its gaze wavered from the deer to something at the other end of the clearing. What could be restraining this ferocious beast, whose claws, as they dug sharp nails into the wood of the tree, appeared ready to rip open the tender flesh of its prey? Two sides of the clearing were made impassable for the deer by the close growth of aspens, interlocked like a brush-fence. At one end of the clearing the panther kept guard, but what was the cause of the starting eyes of the deer as it gazed at the nearer end--the end where the scouts stood? "Ah, Omney--see?" breathed Tally, softly, as he pointed. Then they saw a grey-brown animal about the size of Scrub, with a stubby tail. Its body was thick and short, and its head was round. It had gleaming eyes, green-slitted like a cat's. Its ears were sharp-pointed and stood erect. The mouth was partly open, with the tongue showing its red edge between the fanglike teeth. Its rusty color merged so perfectly with the bushes that it was small wonder the scouts had not seen it immediately. Its expression, the crouching pose, its tense muscles--all denoted its eagerness to taste the blood of the deer, but there was the panther to reckon with first! Now the girls realized the danger of the young deer. How could the poor thing hope to escape from a panther and a lynx? When the lynx sensed the human beings, she snarled viciously, but showed no fear. Her entire attention was given to the movements of the panther. But the fact that her natural enemies, human beings, stood so close to her, made her act sooner than she might have done. Tally whispered the situation in a breath. "Pant'er no jump, fear lynx get him an' en get deer. Lynx 'fraid to jump firs' 'cause pant'er den jump on bof an' eat 'em." Then Omney whispered, "Tally shoot pant'er, an' me shoot lynx--same time. When I say fire--den shoot!" So the two guides slowly lifted their rifles and aimed. But the lynx had crept closer to the deer, which in turn sent a swift look of apprehension back at the beast that was now preparing to spring the moment the lynx leaped. The deer lifted its muzzle high and bleated forth a wailing cry, and at the same moment two rifles sounded. The instant before they rang out, the lynx had jumped right at the throat of the deer, and the instant after the panther had leaped also. The bullet sped faster than the lynx could spring, and the latter fell with a heavy thud to roll over in the buffalo grass at the forefeet of the deer. Omney's shot at the panther, however, struck its right shoulder instead of a fatal spot. When the lynx rolled under the nose of the panic-stricken deer, the poor creature jumped over against the wall of aspens, and this leap spared its life. For the panther, instead of ripping open its throat as it planned to do, clawed a tear in its side and then rolled over on the grass. Instantly, the wild beast was up and about to spring again, when a shot from Tally's gun ended its preying. The frightened deer had seen the animal rise to spring again, but her eyes were so blinded with the pain and fury of the gash in her side, that she leaped high and brought both hoofs down upon her dead antagonist. Again and again she lifted her stiffened forelegs and drove her sharp hoofs into the spine of the dead panther. Finally, however, the deer realized that her enemy was dead, and swiftly she wheeled and fled from the clearing through the opening opposite the scouts. As she disappeared, the girls relaxed the nervous tension that had held them absolutely motionless during the battle. Now they sighed, and Mrs. Vernon sat down where she had stood. Betty began crying softly, and said, "The poor deer! I hope its side will heal." "Sure! Him go roll in mud of shallow spring and it heal," Tally assured her. The lynx and panther were found to be splendid specimens of their individual kinds, and the scouts had the satisfaction of knowing that this big game had not been shot for mere sport. But, having saved the deer's life by shooting the two wild beasts, the pelts naturally became trophies for the scouts to send home. "They're awfully big brutes, girls. We'll never be able to carry them both back to camp to-day," said Mrs. Vernon. "Skin 'em--onny take back pelts," said Omney. "We want to have them stuffed, Hominy, so we need the heads and feet, too," said Julie. Tally looked at Omney and spoke in his native language. Then he turned to the scouts and interpreted what he said. "I say, Omney skin animals wid head an' feet on--us go on an' help Omney on way back. Him done skin den." As no new adventure befell them that day, they retraced their steps and stopped for Omney and the pelts. That night the story was told to the three men, and it lost none of its coloring by having five scouts tell it, turn and turn about. Scrub did not return to camp that night, and Mr. Lewis told Omney to start immediately after breakfast in the morning and see if any untoward accident had happened to the dog. Tally and the scouts would not remain behind, for they were very fond of the pet and worried lest he had been killed by a wild beast. They chose the trail they had seen Scrub take the two previous days, and after climbing the mountain for a time, Tally and Omney argued over following a faint trail through a jungle. Tally pointed to a paw-track in the soft earth, but Omney declared it was not a dog's track. Yet Tally won his way, and started into the dense thicket. He had not gone more than a few yards before he exclaimed jubilantly and pointed to a wisp of Scrub's hair that had been caught on a briar. Then Omney meekly admitted that Tally must be right in his intuitions. After following the faint trail for a short time, Julie called out, "I'm sure I heard a dog bark just now." "Let's shout. Maybe Scrub's lost and is calling to us," explained Betty, anxiously. "Lost! Now Betty, you don't know that dog if you say he could be lost," retorted Joan. They all distinctly heard a shrill bark, now, and Tally said, "Sound like him got wild animal trapped, an' wan' us help." Finally they were near enough to hear Scrub bark and yelp in reply to the plaintive whining of some other animal. Then Tally advised the girls, "You no call Scrub when you come up. Dog look to see you, an' animal jump on him. No say anyting, but wait an' let Tally shoot." This was hard sense, and the scouts agreed to obey. Just then they reached a spot where the forest trees were not so closely grown. Tally held his rifle ready to shoot if necessary, to spare the dog's life, but when he came out of the fringe of pines that circled the small clearing where the dog barked, he stood amazed. The scouts deplored the fact that the camera had been left at camp, as usual, for here was a most unique picture. Scrub stood stiffly, the hair along his spine standing upright from excitement. His stub tail vibrated so swiftly that one could not see it move--it seemed a blur of action. His front legs were braced, and he was yelping and barking at two little bear cubs. They appeared as distressed and confused as the dog. One, the larger of the two, glared at Scrub with ferocious mien and at intervals, when the dog stopped barking for time to breathe, it would charge threateningly, but never got near enough to grapple with the dog. The smaller cub circled whiningly about a huddled mass that lay under a great pine log. It would sniff about the heap and then sit upon its little haunches and cry quiveringly. It was this wail the scouts had heard in the distance. At times Scrub would run over to the trail whence he found his friends approaching, then the little male-cub would join his sister at the black heap, and both would whine pitifully to the mother that was insensible to their cry. The moment Scrub was aware of any movement on the part of his opponent, he would tear back to engage his enemy in another wrangle of sounds. "Um! No wonder Scrub no come home las' night!" laughed Tally. "Maybe that's why he was so excited the night before--he wanted to tell us," ventured Joan. "Yes, but I'm surprised that he remained, when he found we would not follow him," added Julie. "He may have feared we might move camp and he would be left behind," suggested Mrs. Vernon. "I go see why mudder don' help cubs," said Tally. So he started across the clearing, followed by the girls. "Um! See--big log fall from tree jus' when bear go un'ner," said the Indian, pointing up at the split bough that had been severed by lightning, with its heavy end left dangling for a time. It had fallen and struck the black mother-bear just as she was passing under, and it must have instantly killed her. "The poor little babies!" sighed Betty. "Can't we catch them and train them?" asked Julie, eagerly. "Dem die sure in woods--or beastes eat 'em," said Tally. "Dear me, we mustn't have that!" cried Mrs. Vernon. "If we could only tame them and send them to the Zoo in New York--what a fine thing that would be for the Girl Scouts' Organization. It would be quite an honor," exclaimed Ruth. During the unfamiliar sound and sight of the scouts, the cubs blinked fearfully at them. What new calamity was now at hand--and mother lying there so still and helpless? Scrub was ordered away from the bears and made to mind, while Tally planned how to catch the cubs. "I use rope an' lasso bof," said he. "We'll surround the cubs, Tally, and Scrub can keep guard so they won't run away, while you catch them," planned Julie. It was an easy task to catch the little girl-cub and tie her to a tree near the mother bear. But it was another matter to catch the boy-cub. Tally threw the lasso, but it merely struck the rump of the little fellow as he turned to investigate what his sister, who had been given a chunk of cake by one of the scouts, was eating. The cub resented the slap from the rope, and snapped at it. But Tally dragged the lasso back, coaxing the bear-cub much nearer. When the rope was caught up to coil again, the frightened little fellow raced back to the tree where his sister sat. He was so cunning in his awkward gait that the scouts laughed heartily. This time the rope caught him truly, and he rolled over with a jerk. He clawed and snapped and yelped at the bonds that kept him from running away; and when Tally took in the rope, the cub snapped viciously at him. Then the guide had to throw his coat over the cub's head and fall upon it to wrap him in the folds. But the forepaws were free, so the cub used them well, trying to tear the garment away from his head. So strong was the little fellow that Tally had his hands full to finally tie him about the neck. In this fight the cub earned his name of "Snap." When both cubs were securely tied to the tree, Tally went over to examine the old mother-bear. The scouts followed and stood looking down upon the huge body sprawled under the heavy log. "Her dead at once. Her not hear babies cry--or nuddin'," explained Tally, trying to lift the log from her back. Several of the scouts assisted and soon the tree bough was rolled away, Scrub managing to get in every one's way during the procedure. "Her dead mos' two day--babies no get milk to eat," said Tally, after examining the teats and body of the bear. "Mebbe we coax home wid eats," suggested he, as he glanced from mother to cubs and back again. "Tally, I brought some candy in my pocket," said Anne, instantly producing the sweets. "Bear like sugar. Us lead cubs easy wid dis." "Tally, how can we keep this dead bear so we can have her skin, too," now asked Julie, anxiously. "Oh, if we could only ship home such a magnificent bear pelt, wouldn't we be proud!" sighed Joan. "Kin skin and bury 'um now. Come back mornin' an' carry to camp. Got han' full wid two cub to-day," grinned the Indian. "Oh, if you boys would skin it and save it for us!" sighed several eager scouts. So the guides sharpened their great knives that they always carried in their belts, and began work on the dead bear. The girls would have fainted at such a sight a year before, but now they stood by without a quiver and watched the Indians skin the animal. The pelt was soon stripped from the carcass, and the former was buried deep under the log, while the latter was left for the wolves, or other animals. While Tally finished this work the scouts gathered berries to feed to the starved cubs. The latter were so famished that they eagerly ate everything given them. All the way home the scouts took turns in holding bits of candy in front of the cubs' noses, to make them run for it. At some of these "home-runs" the cubs got the best of it, and the scouts had to drop the candy and jump aside, or be clawed in the bears' eagerness to get the sweets. At such times Scrub barked and jumped at the harnessed cubs, and they in turn would fight back, so there ensued a wild scene of battle until Tally got the upper hand again. Once the cubs were in camp and caged they became tame and friendly with every one,--even Scrub failed to draw a snarl from Snap now. The smaller of the two bears was named Yap, as she was forever wanting something to eat and yapped when she could not get it. In a few days' time they were freed from the homemade cage and tethered to a tree during the daytime. They furnished great amusement for the scouts; and Scrub was peeved because every one showed so much attention to these horrid little brutes, while _he_ would permit petting without a snap if his friends were so inclined. The campers had been on this site for almost two weeks before the men mentioned that they were ready to move along. The cubs were quite tame now, and ran about camp, playing with every one who would play with them. They were fine and plump, and the scouts gave much time to the currying of their soft silky coats and to teaching them tricks. "What do you scouts intend doing with Snap and Yap when we start on the trail again?" asked Mr. Gilroy. "Where do you plan to go from here, Gilly?" asked Julie. "Why, Lewis is going back now that he has secured the special specimens he came to the glaciers for," returned Mr. Gilroy; "but we are to go along to Flat Top, where I hope to spend some time at Tyndall, you know." "You told me, Gill, that you wanted to visit Mills' Moraine and hunt for glacial deposits there," ventured Mr. Lewis. "So I did, but it is simply impossible for me to lead the scouts such a dance, and now that they have two bears to dance along with them, I shall have to forego Mills'," laughed Mr. Gilroy, longingly. "Is Mr. Lewis going right back to Denver, did you say?" asked Julie. "Yes, he has a public lecture to give at the Auditorium, so he cannot go on with us," explained Mr. Vernon. "Then listen to my idea, and tell me what you think of it--everybody," exclaimed Julie, eagerly. "Why can't Mr. Lewis take back our pelts and the cubs, and express them home for us?" The very audacity of the suggestion made every one laugh at first, but after much talking it seemed not so impossible. "Then Gilly and Uncle can go through their wonderful heaps of glacial débris, while Tally guides us along the trail to the Flat Top. We will meet again at the foot of Tyndall Glacier," said Julie. So out of all the talking and planning this was the result: Frolic was selected as being the best-behaved of the two mules; the double crate was harnessed to her back, and in each crate a little cub was secured. The pelts of the bear, the panther, and the lynx were strapped across her back, and she was ready to start back to Long's Peak village, with Mr. Lewis and Omney. There the bears would be crated anew, and shipped to the Zoo at Central Park, New York City, while the pelts were to be expressed to Mrs. Vernon's home to await the scouts' return. Mr. Lewis was then to send Frolic back with Omney, who was to trail with the party and help Tally in various ways, while his master finished his lecture tour in Colorado. The morning of their departure, the cubs were scrubbed, combed, and fed to repletion by the scouts, then secured in the crates. They were oblivious of the tears shed by the scouts over their soft little bodies, for they were curled up and fast asleep after such a hearty breakfast. When Mr. Lewis and Omney rode down the trail, the scouts wept forlornly while the little party was in sight, but once a bend in the pathway was turned, Scrub came in for his full share of love and petting again. "If we could only have kept the cubs with us!" sighed Joan. "Thank heavens we have Scrub left as a hostage for Frolic," sighed Ruth, hugging the dog, who _now_ ignored every fond attention. "As it was impossible to 'travel light' with two bears, isn't it much better the way we arranged it, girls?" asked Mrs. Vernon. And they had to admit that such was the case. CHAPTER NINE A THRILLING CANOE TRIP With one pack mule less, Jolt had more to carry but he seemed not to mind it. He was made up of that temperament like few humans, that as long as he had plenty to eat and a place to sleep, it mattered not how hard he had to work at other times. The day following Mr. Lewis's departure with Omney and the cubs, the scouts broke camp and moved along the trail to pitch a camp nearer Battle Mountain. From this spot Mr. Gilroy and Mr. Vernon could daily rove about, hunting for the precious bits of rock and débris that meant so much to the geologist. Here the party planned to await the return of Omney and the mule, Frolic. The new camp near Battle Mountain was much like the old one, with the exception of its being nearer the trail instead of way back in the woods. Thus it happened that the second day of camping, a party of tourists stopped to ask which trail would lead them to a certain stream where they were to meet a party of canoeists. Tally explained how they could reach the place, and after they had gone, Joan sighed, "I wish we could canoe for a change!" "It wouldn't be much like the infant trips we took last summer," said Ruth. "I should say not! In the Rockies there'd be rapids, then a whirlpool, and then over a waterfall--to extinction!" laughed Julie. "All the same, others take these trips safely,--why shouldn't experienced scouts?" added Anne. "Just because we never thought of it, with all our other excitement," answered Ruth. "Now that we have thought of it, let's ask Verny why there are no places where one can hire a canoe," suggested Julie. The girls laughed at such an idea, but the thought of what a wonderful experience it would be to canoe on these streams, clung to their minds, and so the Captain heard about it. "Even if you had canoes, there are no navigable streams," said she. "Those folks who stopped to ask Tally the way to Flat Top base were to meet friends who canoed all the way from somewhere," said Joan. "Yes, they told us they were to meet the party there and all were going to cross the Divide on horses, then come back and canoe home," added Judith. "It seems too bad that all those fine canoes must remain idle while those folks are riding over the Divide," sighed Julie. Mrs. Vernon purposely ignored the sigh and the insinuation, then did her best to change the subject to one more practical. But the Fates were against her this time. The following morning, two of the men who had previously stopped to inquire the right trail to take, returned to ask Tally if he knew of any one who would sell them, or hire out, a number of mountain-climbing horses. Now that the canoeing party had arrived, there were no extra horses for them to ride. "How many horses will you need?" asked Julie, quickly scheming. "There are eight people in the party, and they will want one or two extra horses for the luggage," replied the man. "There are nine horses and one mule in _our_ outfit," hinted Julie, her eyes gleaming as she glanced at the Captain. "But your mounts will do us no good," laughed the man. "Oh, they might, if you could persuade us to swap for a time," said Julie, daringly. "Julie, what _do you_ mean?" demanded Mrs. Vernon, angrily. "Why, one likes to be brotherly, you know, Verny, and in the wilds, far from other people, we ought to do a good turn to strangers. Here is a party with a number of canoes but no horses, and here are we with horses but no canoes--see my point?" she said. "Even though you are the Scout Leader, Julie, I do not see how you can even suggest such a step. The Captain refuses to listen to any argument along those lines," said Mrs. Vernon sternly. "We scouts like to canoe, and we will be here at camp for several weeks, so a little side trip like the one offered now would be most delightful," responded Julie, who understood that the Captain's objections arose mostly from dread of the scouts taking the trip on unknown streams. "Several weeks! Why, we are only camping here for a few days," retorted Mrs. Vernon. "Besides I have no idea of exchanging safe methods of travel, for what is known to be a great risk." "Verny, Gilly told Uncle last night that he had enough material on hand in these moraines to keep him busy for a year, if he wanted to do the thing properly. But even as it was, he proposed spending several weeks between here and Tyndall Glacier," said Joan, to corroborate Julie's statement. "Well, what of that? Would you advise me to loan the horses Gilly gave security for, to a party of strangers we never saw in our lives?" Before any one could answer, Mr. Gilroy hurried back to camp. "I've forgotten my magnifying glasses, girls. Don't stop me for anything, now," said he. He ran into his tent and was out again in a moment, but one of the men who came to ask about horses, recognized him in that moment. "Why, it is Mr. Gilroy, who has a place in the Adirondacks!" exclaimed he, coming forward. "Well of all people! You're the last I looked for in the Rockies, Kenmore!" laughed Mr. Gilroy, shaking hands with his friend from the East. "Funny how we should happen to meet like this," said Mr. Kenmore, then he introduced his companion. Mr. Gilroy, in turn, introduced the two men to Mrs. Vernon and the girls. When Mr. Kenmore told his story, and why he had stopped at the camp, Julie hastily interpolated and repeated what she had said about a fair exchange of horses and canoes. But no one spoke of the Captain's fears. "Say, Ken, that plan might work out all right," declared Mr. Gilroy. "How long shall you folks want to use the horses?" "Why, as to that--we can go as far as your time permits, and return when you say." "Well, I'll tell you! I've got to be about these diggings for another ten days or two weeks at least, and if the scouts want to take a little canoe trip during that time, I think it will be fine! What do you say, Captain?" and Mr. Gilroy turned to Mrs. Vernon. "You seem to have settled everything before you asked my opinion. Yet there would be no scouts in the Rockies if I were not responsible for each one of them on this trip!" "Why, Captain! I imagined you were as eager for this trip as the girls seem to be!" exclaimed Mr. Gilroy, aghast. "Eager--what for? Losing half the scouts in a whirlpool because of a silly notion of Juliet's?" The very mention of Julie's full name sobered every one considerably, for they realized that the Captain was very serious in her objecting to this new risk. Mr. Gilroy suggested, "Can you two men spend the day with Mrs. Vernon and the scouts? I've simply _got_ to rush away and meet Mr. Vernon. Then we will plan to-night after dinner, and see what we can do. I do know that there's no use your trailing back unless you go all the way to Loveland or Boulder for your mounts--and you won't want to lose all that time, I'm sure." So Mr. Kenmore and his friend, Mr. Neil, spent a pleasant day with the scouts, and at night the subject of canoeing was again debated. Finally, Joan said, "It's foolish of Verny to say we will drown, when we won badges for our canoeing last year, and carried off the prizes for our county this spring." "These girls are better swimmers and more expert canoeists than most," added Mr. Gilroy. "Besides, my dear," said Mr. Vernon to his wife, "it is not as if they had to paddle. With expert Indians to guide the crafts, why do you feel so timid about the trip?" "We only have Tally, and he can paddle but one canoe at a time. If only Omney were here, he could take charge of one, and I could manage the other one," sighed Mrs. Vernon, feeling overcome by the combined arguments of the others. "How many canoes have you?" asked Mr. Gilroy. "Three large ones, built for parties," replied Mr. Kenmore. "My wife is a poor swimmer and knows nothing about a canoe, yet she had no fear in trusting herself to the expert Indian who managed the canoe she was in." "Why not let that Indian take charge of one canoe? Then the Captain will feel safer, and her responsibility will be less?" suggested Mr. Gilroy. "We'd be glad to, as that will take care of him until we come back from our ride." Finally, Mrs. Vernon said, "If you agree to wait until Omney returns, so we can let him manage one of the canoes, I'll withdraw most of my objections, but still I am not in favor of this trip!" Having gained that much, the scouts knew better than to urge more at that time. Mr. Kenmore was relieved to find he could go back to his party with such good news--that horses and pack-mules were found as if by a fairy. He thought to himself, "By a clever little scout of a fairy, called Julie!" Before the two men left camp in the morning, it was all settled. As soon as Omney returned, the scouts would break camp and ride on until they reached the camp pitched by Mr. Kenmore's party. Mr. Gilroy and Mr. Vernon would move leisurely along, searching in the moraines during the day, and pitching camp wherever they were when night fell. There would be no outfits to look after, and no cares about scouts, so they would reach Flat Top about the time the canoe party returned from its trip. As soon as Omney came back to camp, therefore, every one was ready to proceed along the trail to Kenmore's Camp. When the scout party rode into that camp, every one there was glad to see them, for they had heard about the scout outing and the plan to exchange horses for canoes, for a short time, at least. "Couldn't be better if Providence itself planned it all!" declared Mrs. Kenmore, enthusiastically. "Don't you think so, Mrs. Vernon?" "I'll wait until we return before I commit myself. I always did think folks blamed Providence too much for what really was their own stubborn will," returned the Captain. Her repartee caused a laugh, and Julie exclaimed, "Verny, I fear you are coming down with chills and fever,--you never were so pessimistic before!" "Yes, you are awfully lugubrious, Verny. At home you are with us on any wildcat scheme," added Ruth. "That's it! It took a trip to the Rockies to show me what I was at home--for your wildcat schemes. Now I'm learning sense!" declared the Captain. Mr. Kenmore had a brilliant idea, and he instantly followed it up. He brought the Indian guide who had paddled the canoe to camp, and introduced him to Mrs. Vernon, as his future mistress for the canoe trip. The Captain saw the tall slender form, the fine muscular development of the Indian, and the polite demeanor. Then she said, "Have you been in the Rockies long?" "Borned here. My fodder Chief of waterways in Colorado when she was territory and me lee'l boy." The Indian demonstrated how small he was at that time. "John tells me he has spent the last twenty years on these streams flowing from the Rockies. So he can be depended upon," said Mr. Kenmore. That noon, the party wishing to cross the Divide rode away with the horses and two pack-mules, while the three Indian guides showed Mrs. Vernon the route they proposed taking for the canoe trip. They would follow the creek that eventually emptied its crystal waters into Glacier Creek. But the latter had many fine tributaries, so they would follow one of these to a spot John knew of, where a short carry of a mile would bring them to a splendid river along which they could canoe for miles and miles. The blankets and other necessities were carefully packed in the bottom of the canoes, and the slat frameworks for the flooring were laid down over them. Then the scouts divided their party and got into the three large canoes, with an experienced guide for each. When they were once under way, Mrs. Vernon began to enjoy the trip as much as any one of the scouts. She leaned back comfortably in the canoe as she thought to herself, "What's so enjoyable as this peaceful riding over placid waters, and passing by Nature's wonder-spots!" The Indians thoroughly enjoyed canoeing, and the two boys, Tally and Omney, were delighted at the change of plan that made this water trip possible for them. The paddles were in capable hands, and the canoes responded instantly to every touch. A stroke one way and the canoe would evade a snag thrusting its ugly head from the stream. A stroke the other way, and the passengers quickly rounded a finger of land that jutted out into the water. Now and then a quick stroke, and a rock was passed without scraping, and all was done so quietly that no undue fear was roused. They rode under massive overhanging rocks, glided past flat banks of land where gorgeous bloom offered sweetest nectar to bees and butterflies. Then they would shoot by cliffs whose towering sides were bare and threatening, or were overrun with vines and topped with giant pines whose roots found a hold down on the other side of the rock. Finally the current began to run swifter, and still swifter. The Captain sat, half-mesmerized by the swirling water as the canoe shot through it. She was in a delicious state of mind when a stifled scream from Julie, in the leading canoe, caused her to rouse instantly. They were sweeping around a wooded curve in the stream, and just before them was a series of little rapids that foamed and frothed. Farther on a narrow gorge was seen, and here the water doubled on itself and curled backward in its attempt to escape from the frowning walls of rock on either side. Now the canoes were in the white churning waters! Now they were cutting through the foam, the wavelets striving to pile up and over the top of the canoes. The rapids roared as they flung themselves against the rocky wall just ahead, and the Captain murmured, "Oh, I hope no one runs into that!" Then the three canoes were flying through the gorge, riding over the lapping waters, and now they were out again on the other side, gliding silently across a wide expanse of dark-green lake. And now the Captain heaved a sigh of relief and sent up a prayer of thanks for the protection. The lake was quickly crossed, and again the three canoes were going down what seemed to be a chute. The scouts gasped at the speed, and grasped the edges of the crafts tightly. When the first canoe, managed by John, came to the spot, he called back a warning to the other two guides. And all three bent their muscles to the work in hand. Suddenly, without other warning, Mrs. Vernon felt as if the canoe she sat in had dropped from under her--its flight was so swift that she scarcely realized the motion. Then--s-s-suash! down it came upon the top of the water again--but far ahead of whence it sprang. She turned to look at what could have caused this queer sensation and saw they had ridden a "rift." The three Indians cheered and complimented the scouts for their courage in this their first rift. So the scouts understood that such things were mere joys to an Indian and nothing to be frightened about. During the afternoon the line of canoes reached one of the wildest and most alluring spots in the mountains. The forest was not so dense here, the water was smoother, and the stream wider. The Indians were warning each other "Watch out!" so their passengers were alert also. No one wanted to miss a single thrill of this marvelous trip. Now a sound as of thunder in the distance reached their ears, and the Captain wondered what it could be. As the canoes sped onward, the sound grew plainer and louder, and caused a clutch of fear at the throats of the girls. But the Indians smiled eagerly and allayed undue trepidation. Then quite suddenly, coming out of a screen of overhanging verdure, the strange sounds broke into wild tearing, roaring, pulsating tones, and the canoes slid down upon the tawny yellow chute of a _real_ cataract! The bulky black things that flashed up before the canoes, only to be as swiftly passed by, were _rocks_! The queer, rocking, green-gold glass they were sliding upon was _water_! And then, as in the rift, after a sudden sinking as if through space, they all rode out safely upon another deep quiet lake of dark-green water. That night the Indians made camp on the moonlit shores of a marvelous lake. They had not bothered to stop for much dinner at noon, so every one was hungry by evening. Freshly caught fish, and the food that only an Indian can find and cook to perfection, made the scouts feel "like monarchs of all they surveyed." Such thrilling experiences as John could tell, kept the scouts gasping until Mrs. Vernon suggested they had best go to bed if they wished to continue in the morning. The beds of sweet bracken made up by Tally never held more appreciative mortals than the scouts, after the entertainment furnished by John had ended. For breakfast, there were wild ducks' eggs, found by Omney; stewed Indian potatoes, dug by Tally; Indian onions, discovered by John; and delicious coffee, brought by Mrs. Vernon. Then they cleared away all signs of the camp and proceeded along the way. The second day of the canoeing there was no fear felt by any one, as the Indians had proved to be adequate for any emergency, and the canoes were splendidly constructed craft. In them the scouts shot rapids, rode down cataracts, bobbed about in whirlpools, and then--rode out upon quiet lakes laughing merrily in their nervous tension. Finally Julie felt tired of sitting still, and asked to paddle. But the guides shook their heads. No amount of coaxing could make them turn over the paddles to other hands. The Indians knew their responsibility, and were determined to avoid trouble. The third morning, Julie said, "We can paddle so well, Tally, and some of these lakes are as tame as dish-water." "Den wait to dinnertime at camp!" said Tally, unthinkingly. The rest of the morning was passed in dodging great rocks, passing through arched aisles, where the water cut a way through the timber, or again rocking perilously in a seething bowl of froth, to be shot out at the other side, and then ride along on smooth water. That noonday they landed on a blossoming meadow for camp. The canoes were taken from the water and turned over on the beach, while the Indians hunted for food to cook for dinner. Two of them started for an inland pond where they saw flocks of wild duck, and John began to catch fish for cooking. Mrs. Vernon took charge of the fire, and the scouts made bread, set the dishes out and did other chores. Julie and Joan had been sent to hunt for a fresh spring of water, and in passing the canoes where they had been left, Joan said, "The lake's like a millpond." "I'd like to paddle across to the other side and climb that steep knoll. I bet there's a fine view from there," said Julie. "Verny would have a fit!" declared Joan, looking back but not seeing the camp, as the bank hid it from sight. "It wouldn't take long, and I'm dying to try these canoes," suggested Julie. "Come on, then," responded Joan. "I suppose it's safe." "Of course, and Tally said we might try at noon-time." "We'll just shoot over and back again," said Joan, as the two girls managed to carry the canoe to the water. No one saw them glide away, and no one missed them at first, as they were thought to be hunting for spring water. Then when dinner was ready there was no Julie or Joan to be found! CHAPTER TEN JULIE AND JOAN'S PREDICAMENT It was all very well to talk about paddling across a quiet little lake, but it was another thing when one got into the swift current that ran past the rocky bluff where the girls wished to land. There was no shallow water anywhere, where they might get out and beach the canoe, so Julie paddled with the current for a distance, leaving the camp site far behind. Joan kept gazing for a likely spot to anchor in, but there were none such. Then suddenly, the canoe was caught in a swirl of water that was caused by the outpouring of a creek, and Julie discovered that managing a large canoe built for Rocky Mountain waters was far different from steering a light craft across a home lake, or along the canal that ran through the town. "Why are you going this way, Julie--why not stick to the shore line?" asked Joan, as the canoe was driven along with the current. "Stick to nothing! How can I help going this way when the current is as mad as a Jehu!" cried Julie, desperately. "Then let me help in some way." "I only wish you could, but we only have one paddle." Joan glanced at the water. It was running quite shallow just where they were. An idea flashed into her mind. "Julie, I'll get out and pull the canoe upstream while you help with the paddle." Julie made no demur, although she said, warningly, "Don't let go of the canoe for a second, will you?" "Of course not! Did you think I wanted to be left on a desert shore?" laughed Joan, climbing out. She managed to drag the canoe for quite a distance upstream again, while Julie paddled with all her might. At times Joan stepped down in a hole and had to cling to the canoe to save herself. At such times the craft swung back again downstream, making the girls do the same work all over again. Finally Joan's teeth began chattering and she managed to quiver forth, "The water's like ice!" "You've been in too long. Now you get in and let me take your place, Jo. Later you can switch off with me again, and in that way we'll get back to still water opposite camp." So Julie jumped out and Joan got in to paddle, but her hands were stiff with the chill and her whole body shaking, hence her paddling was not of much use. Julie was the stronger of the two scouts, so she managed to pull the canoe upstream splendidly, and both girls felt that now their troubles were over. All of a sudden, however, she stumbled over a great submerged stone and fell out flat on the water, face downward. She had presence of mind to cling to the edge of the canoe with both hands, but Joan stopped paddling in consternation when she saw the accident. Instantly the craft caught in the swift current and shot ahead as an arrow from the bow. Julie floated out behind, on the water, at times completely covered with the swirling waves curled up by the sharp canoe. At times she lifted her head up and tried to gasp. In one of these desperate efforts, she cried, "Paddle--paddle for the love of Mike!" then she was swept under again. Before Joan got down to actual work again with the paddle, the canoe was running opposite the creek again, and all the gain the girls had made by wading upstream was lost. Julie was very cold by this time, and the water was so deep that she could not touch bottom, so she climbed back in the canoe. During the help Joan had to give the half-fainting mariner, the canoe headed straight for a bend in the river. Where they would land neither scout could tell. It might be over the falls--it might be in a mud puddle. "Can't you stop it?" screamed Julie, hysterically. "We may run plumb into a cliff and smash to bits!" As she spoke, she grabbed the paddle and worked with the strength that fear sometimes gives, so that she really poled the canoe across the creek to the shore where the water was quiet. But they were now on the far side of the current, in the creek that was hidden by the bluff they had passed. The distance from camp was too far for any one to hear them, even if they did shout. So they fastened the canoe and got out upon the bank. "When Verny finds us gone, and one canoe missing, she will send the Indians out at once to hunt for us. Meantime, we may as well make a fire and get warm," suggested Julie. "Tally left a line and tackle in the bottom of the canoe," announced Joan, remembering that she had caught her toe on a fish-hook when she climbed out. "Oh, then we're not so hard up, after all. We can catch a fish and broil it for lunch." "I'm fearfully hungry after all that work," hinted Joan. "Then you fish while I make fire with some rubbing-sticks. As soon as you land a fish, I'll clean it with my scout knife and start broiling it. Better try upstream a ways, where the water is quiet," said Julie. The fire was soon blazing, and Joan managed to catch two goodly sized fish, so they ate them, and dried their uniforms at the fire at the same time. This done, they felt better. But no call from the rescuers the girls had expected, nor sign of them, came from the lake beyond the bluff. "Jo, suppose we follow this creek a ways until we find a shallow place where we can ford. Then we can climb up to that knoll and signal with smokes." "We may get into all sorts of new trouble, Julie. I'd rather wait here for them." "I've got to get up and do something, Jo. I'll go crazy sitting here waiting, with no sign from any one out there." "Why can't we paddle the canoe up a ways. If we walk we may step on a rattler, or meet other dreadful things," ventured Jo. "All right, then. We'll canoe upstream a ways. If it doesn't look healthy yonder, we'll come back. But should we find a trail we may as well follow it to the bluff," returned Julie. "Who'd make a trail in this wilderness!" scorned Joan. "Don't you suppose others have been in this beautiful spot? Others have seen that bluff and climbed it, too." So the scouts paddled the canoe upstream as far as it seemed advisable, and that is how they missed hearing the Indians, when they crossed the creek and called for the lost ones. Then the hunters paddled on downstream, searching ahead for a canoe that might be going straight for the great falls John knew to be a mile further down. John and Omney were in the leading canoe, while the Captain and Tally were in the second canoe of the rescuing party. When no sign of the scouts was seen at the creek, John called back to Tally. "Omney and me go on, you take lady to shore and wait on creek for me." Tally did not tell Mrs. Vernon that a dangerous waterfall was downstream, but he knew that was where John was going to hunt, so he landed his passenger on the far side of the creek, where they sat and waited for news. No one dreamed that the two girls would paddle up the creek and thus miss a chance of being helped. Nor did Tally find the ashes of the little campfire Julie had made to cook the fish and to dry themselves. "I knew there would be a fine trail along here, somewhere, Jo!" exclaimed Julie, driving the canoe inshore and pointing exultantly at a distinct trail that ran up from the water's edge. "Oh, joy! It runs straight for the bluff, too!" cried Joan. So they climbed this steep trail, which was so plainly worn that there was no need of blazes along the way. They climbed and climbed! Still they had not reached the top where they expected to find the knoll they originally started out for. "Seems to me we have gone twice as far as ever that bluff was," complained Joan. "Places always seem close at hand when one is on the water," commented Julie. But they now found the trail descending, and shortly it went decidedly downhill, away from the lake. Both scouts looked at each other. "There is no sense in _going down_, Julie!" "Apparently not, Jo, but these trails wind awfully, you know; and maybe it is trying to avoid a gully or a cliff." So they kept on, hoping every moment for a sight of the bald place that had allured them from the camp on the safe and desirable meadow. After half an hour of this hiking they came out to an inland pond with canals cut in different directions. "Why! it's a beaver colony!" exclaimed Julie, pointing to the huts and dam, and they saw several beavers working in the aspens at the far side of the pond. "I could eat one of those beavers--I'm so starved!" sighed Joan. "Shall we follow that trail around the pond?" asked Julie. "What for? We're only going further away all the time." "Then we may as well go back to the creek and wait." "All this long walk for nothing!" grumbled Joan. But she followed Julie nevertheless, and when they reached the brook they had recently crossed, the girls found two trails leading to it. "I only saw one before," said Joan. "Because we were _on_ that one,--but which one was it?" "Coming from the left, to be sure. Would we be coming from the interior?" asked Joan, impatiently. So they took the lefthand trail, although they really had come up by the other one, which led from the creek where their canoe was waiting. "Jo, I believe both those trails were worn by animals going to the creek," ventured Julie, as the idea suddenly came to her. "Well, you said tourists would surely visit here and leave a trail!" Joan returned, jeeringly. For once Julie made no reply in self-justification. The two scouts kept on hiking until they were so fatigued that they both felt like crying. "I hope we're not lost," whimpered Joan, wiping her eyes. "Of course not! Folks are never lost unless they get into a panic of fear," declared Julie, keeping up her own courage by trying to boost that of her companion. Again the girls climbed and climbed, until presto! right in front and down far below, was the lovely lake! Oh, how beautiful it looked! They stood where they were for a few moments sighing in relief that now they were sure to be rescued. Then Julie frowned and looked at Joan. "Jo, is there anything wrong with my eyes? I can't see any meadow opposite us." "Neither can I! There's a rocky pine-topped wall over there." "But there _was_ a flat meadow where we camped, wasn't there?" queried Julie. "O Julie, you're not going daffy, are you?" wailed Joan. "Good gracious! Why do you ask such a thing! _Was_ there a meadow over there?" screamed Julie, shaking Joan fearfully. "I've heard that folks lose their minds when they're lost in the wilderness," cried Joan, forgetting to answer the all-important question about the meadow. "Will you tell me what I want to know--_was there a meadow_?" yelled Julie, stamping her foot vehemently as she spoke. She had been standing upon long wiry witch grass that had washed its blades downwards toward the lake, and having but little roothold in the thin layer of dried moss and top soil that was spread over the cliff, the sharp stamping of a scout heel loosened this slight attachment. Then like a mirage in the desert, Joan beheld her friend vanish! Not swiftly and instantaneously, but slowly and surely, as the roots and matted surface reluctantly broke away because of Julie's weight and downward gravity. "Save me! Oh Jo! Save me!" screamed Julie, clutching wildly at scrub bushes that held tenaciously to the crevices and so gave her temporary resistance. But her weight always tore them away finally, and then she had to grasp the next one. "Oh Julie--come back! Come back, don't leave me all alone in this wilderness!" wailed Joan, wringing her hands. The sudden realization that Joan thought only of herself in face of the calamity that threatened her friend, served to cool Julie's fear; then she used common sense in sparing herself as far as possible. She was out of Joan's sight now, and by making use of every bush, root, or vine on the slanting rocks, she resisted the force of gravitation enough to slide slowly instead of being catapulted from the heights. She knew not just where this chute would end--in deep or shallow water. If the former she still might swim to shore, if that were not too far away. The last few feet of this slide ended abruptly where the cliff had been worn away by the spring freshets and floods. Here Julie dropped into the water which formed a hole along the rockbound shore, so that she went in without striking anything, and immediately began swimming to free herself from the tangle of roots and débris that fell with her. She swam for a distance until she found a narrow edge of sand where she might sit and rest in the sunshine. So she managed to reach this twenty-inch-wide refuge and shook out her hair to dry. She wondered what Joan would do when she found she had to make her own way alone to the canoe! And the picture she painted of her erstwhile companion, stumbling along weeping, gave her some satisfaction. This spirit of vengeance, however, was soon gone, and a kindly feeling took its place. She began to plan how she might creep along that narrow edge of beach to reach the point on land where she could see the creek pouring into the lake. From there she could signal Joan when she reached the canoe, and thus relieve her mind of the fear that her chum had been drowned. After overcoming many obstacles, she reached the jutting land that marked the entrance to the creek. The canoe had landed on the opposite side, further up stream. Hardly had she gained the top of this promontory before she heard excited voices, and one above the others wailing dismally. Instantly she knew Joan was safe and that the others had arrived. A line of Scripture flashed through her mind and caused her to smile--"The voice of one crying in the wilderness," quoth Julie. No sooner had she grasped the fact that she would be with her old friends in a few moments, than she recovered all her old _sang froid_. She shook out her clinging clothes, and twisted up her half-dried hair, then sat down on top of the promontory and sang. Yes, _sang_, and sang merrily, too, because she thought that would convey the impression of how unconcerned she felt. Sound carries far over the water, so Julie's singing was heard by the rescuers as soon as they came out into the lake. Then they shouted, and she replied. Finally they saw the solitary figure sitting upon a rock with both hands clasped about her knees, singing as if her heart was too full of joy to hold it all. The moment the canoes came near enough, the Captain gazed up, and asked, "How can you get down, Julie?" "Same way I came up, Verny--with my feet!" Every one laughed, but Mrs. Vernon shook her head as she murmured, "Same old Julie! Nothing on earth will quench that spirit." Suddenly, to the horror of every one in the canoes, they saw a form shoot past them and dive into the water. But as suddenly, a laughing face appeared above the surface and soon Julie was in one of the canoes. Had it not been for the danger of upsetting, the occupants of that canoe would have hugged the scout in their relief at having found her safe and sound,--because Joan's report had been more than despairing. "O Julie, darling! I thought you were dead!" cried Joan. "Did you? But you wailed for yourself when you saw me go down to perdition," scorned Julie. "But how did you manage to get down to the promontory, Julie?" argued Joan, ignoring the other's reply. "Now, how do you s'pose? I motored there, of course!" When they all returned to the belated and cold dinner, it was late afternoon, and no one felt in the mood for fresh adventures that day. So they decided to camp on the lovely meadow for the night, and continue the trip in the morning. The three scouts who had been left in camp to guard the dinner were not told of the escape until later. As they all dawdled languidly over the last fragments of the supper, a silver bar slanted suddenly across their faces, and the very dishes were transformed into a shimmering glory. The broad shaft of light that shone from the newly-risen moon lighted up the whole meadow and penetrated far into the dark fringe of pines that bordered the meadowland. Then the full moon rose higher in the vaulted dome of the blue heavens--heavens as blue as the Venetian Sea; and sharp points of starlight began to twinkle like tiny beacons on crafts at anchor in that peaceful haven of fathomless blue. CHAPTER ELEVEN ON TO FLAT TOP MOUNTAIN What would a trip in the Rockies mean without an Indian guide? He is the most valuable asset one can have. No matter where he finds himself, under the greatest stress of difficult conditions and circumstances, the Indian guide will manage to save the day. No human being can get as much out of Nature as an Indian. No one can find as desirable a campsite without loss of time. No one can make fire as quickly, pitch tents so securely, weave beds so comfortably, clean up so neatly, spin yarns so thrillingly, and smoke a pipe so contentedly, as an Indian. So, in the early morning when the scouts awakened to the hope of new adventures, they found their guides preparing breakfast. Julie and Joan felt no after-effects of their unpleasant experience, other than in memory, and there was no reason for that to cripple either one. The breadtwists were baking, duck broiling, and other delicious odors coming from the campfire, so the girls speedily completed their bath and toilet for the day. Then, the delicious breakfast out of the way, the kits were packed into the canoes, the scouts got in and sat down, and onward they traveled. At every turn in the stream new vistas of Nature's varied beauties opened out before their admiring eyes, and every now and then, a scout would call, "Take that picture, Verny! It's wonderful." And the Captain always snapped the scene. Beautiful birds swung low on branches, with heads on one side, eyeing the strange creatures in the canoes. Squirrels sat upon the boughs and threw nutshells at the scouts as the canoes passed under their perches. Thus the hours flew by until night fell again. Camp was made, supper cooked, Indian legends told about the fire, then bed and refreshing sleep. Beautiful weather blessed the scouts while on the canoe trip, and added to the enjoyment of the experience. Many times they paddled through water that looked like molten silver, so heavy and opaque was it in the weird light. Again they went along streams that reflected the sunset hues, and looked more like sheets of opal with its changeable colors of rose, lilac, and yellow-green. Then this fading, translucent color would suddenly vanish, and all be dark! Again there were times when the canoes threaded a way between towering cliffs that cast somber shadows down upon the waters, and other times when they rushed through gorges and gullies. Hour after hour, day after day, sped on to join the yesterdays, with one thrilling experience after another passing into memories, and the scouts began to realize that their trip was almost ended. All the time the three Indians paddled faithfully, carefully, and silently, as much a factor in the enjoyment of the marvelous scenes as the water or the forests. At last the scouts reached the great falls that marked the end of the journey, but they still had the joy of going back. So the backtrail began, with as many happy adventures as one can hope for on a canoe trip. No accident or disagreement marred the trip, and when they reached the rendezvous where they were to meet the riders who went over the Divide, every one was satisfied. "'The End of a Perfect Day,'" sang Julie, as she jumped out of the canoe. That same night Mr. Gilroy and Mr. Vernon hiked into camp and were received with noisy welcome. They were as wildly enthusiastic over the fine specimens they had secured in their side trips, as the scouts were over their canoe trip. Then in the morning the riders came to camp, and after hearty thanks from both sides, the horses and canoes changed hands again. The Kenmore party started down the stream, and the scouts rode away along the trail that led to Glacier Creek and to Flat Top Mountain. The trails were rough but the horses were sure-footed, and all went well. They had gone some distance when just ahead, beside the trail they were following, they saw a beautiful sheet of water. It really was a wild tarn, placed in the pocket of the mountains that encircled it. "It looks just like a diamond sparkling in the deep prongs of these pointed peaks," said Julie. "We've discovered a poetess, scouts!" exclaimed Ruth, but Julie frowned upon her. "We'll find many such pure jewels hidden in these settings," said Mr. Gilroy. "Some are perched so high in the mountaintops that you wonder how they ever snuggle there. Others are so deeply entrenched in terrifying chasms and ravines that only the intrepid ever see them. But most of these gems are made by the glaciers that carved out their basins by constant friction. The waters, so cold and pure, come from leaping cataracts and icy falls above, that flow from the melting ice fields during the summer." On the shores of one of these lovely lakes the Indians made camp that night. The two scientists decided to study some of the peculiar formations found near the place, and the scouts were satisfied to enjoy a quiet rest for a time. With an acre or more of flower-dotted meadow on one side, rugged cliffs on another side, dark forests on still the third side, and Tyndall Glacier rising sheer from the fourth side, what more could adventurous youth ask? "Girls," remarked Mr. Gilroy that evening, "this place offers us all we need for individual pastimes,--you to explore in the forests, and Vernon and I to collect specimens. It's up to you to say how long we camp here. I'm ready to move on whenever you say." Later, as they sat about the campfire, Betty asked, "Gilly, what is it that makes a glacier?" "Is it the winter's snow that piles up on mountaintops and freezes?" added Julie who, too, had been puzzling over the matter. "A glacier, girls, is an accumulation of ice in an altitude where the melting process is not equal to the deposit. Every winter adds snow and ice to the peaks, and then when these slide down to milder areas, they melt and vanish into these rivers and tarns. "Some of these glaciers found in the Rockies were left here since the Ice Age, when the whole globe was ice-clad. The glacial rivers that flowed from these ice-peaks are mainly responsible for the wild scenery in these mountains. They cut a gully here, or scoop out a pit there, according to the force and size of the torrents. In thus forcing a way through every obstacle, these resistless currents carry along timber, soil, and rocks. "These, in turn, tearing and banging against other obstacles that resist them, finally carry _them_ along to add to the power of its ruthless progress. "Through ages these ice torrents, starting from the highest peaks and coming down, down, down from one resting place to another, but always traveling downward and onward, moving mountains, as it were, changing the course of mighty rivers, filling up inland seas,--have given you this grand scenery of to-day. "Not only do all kinds of débris come flooding the valleys and lakes with this gushing from glacial fields, but gold and other precious metals are washed down and deposited. Thus the seeker may find gold, if he is willing to sacrifice for it. "To warn you scouts that these glacial fields are not as safe as a floor in your home, let me tell you what happened to a party of mountain climbers. They were experienced men, too. "They were climbing Mont Blanc when a snowslide swept them away into a deep crevasse. One man escaped to tell the story. It was impossible to reach any of them, so the scientists figured out how long a time must elapse before the glacier would move down to give up its victims. Computations had it that forty years must pass by and then the ice would reach a place where the bodies of the men would be recovered. Forty-one years afterwards, far down the slope of that same mountain, the frozen forms of seven men were found and removed." "Well, Gilly, rest assured that not one scout will be found frozen that way, this year or forty years hence!" promised Julie, emphatically. "Not if we can help it!" seconded the girls. "See that you remember this vow, when you feel like a little adventuring over a peak," laughed Mr. Gilroy. A few days after this talk, the scouts begged the guides to take them on a hunting-trip,--not that they ever shot anything, but they liked to explore the forests and watch the animals browse or run away. So they hiked up the steep ascent of the mountain that rose many thousands of feet above the camp, and after startling several hares and other tiny creatures, they came upon a fox, dining upon a wild rabbit. But he leaped away almost before they had seen him, his great red brush disappearing between the trees. "Wasn't he splendid!" exclaimed Betty. "Um! Not scout scare him away--something comin' dis way," returned Tally, peering eagerly into the dimness. "Tally!" hissed Omney suddenly, "Grizzly!" At the same time the scouts distinctly heard a crashing through the dry branches of the down-timber. "Clim tree--quick--in any one near!" warned Tally, while he cocked his rifle to protect the scouts. "Why don't _you_?" demanded Julie, who stood back of the Indians when the other girls scampered anxiously for aspens, or other "safety-first" places. "Me fight!" "Oh!" was all Julie said, but she stood her ground behind the two Indians, while her friends all begged her to seek a tree for safety. "I want to watch what is going on down here--you can't see a thing up in the foliage," called Julie. "Besides, I am safe because the bear will have to down the guides first, before he can get a mouthful out of me." But the grizzly must have caught a scent of the human beings who stood too near the tempting bit of rabbit right on the trail! So he sat upright on his haunches and waved his fearful paws threateningly, while he growled as if saying, "Come on! I'm waiting for you folks. Why don't you fight?" But the two guides and Julie were so screened by the bush that the bear could not see them,--he merely scented them. Then the wind shifted again, and the grizzly thought he was mistaken, for he smelled no further annoyance. But he decided to be cautious, as it always behooved him to be when man was at hand. So he gave voice to a terrifying roar, just to show these pigmies what would happen if they dared to interfere with his meal! [Illustration: Julie stood her ground behind the two Indians] As he sat munching the mouthful of rabbit, blinking at nothing in particular, Tally suddenly jerked his head sideways and took a searching look at the beast. Then he leaned over and whispered to Omney so softly that Julie could not hear a sound. Omney now stared at the bear in unbelief, but after gazing keenly, soon nodded his head anxiously. Then, in another moment, two rifles were silently levelled, and two shots rang out. The grizzly rolled over while the rabbit still remained half-chewed in his great maw. "O Tally! Shame on you!" cried Julie, furiously. The scouts now slid down the treetrunks and ran over. Each one had a protest to register against the heartlessness of the Indians. But they were over by the bear, turning him over on his side. "Him be Devil-Bear!" exclaimed Tally, excitedly. "Um! Bump on haid, scar on rump!" added Omney. "What do you mean, boys?" now asked Mrs. Vernon. The scouts saw a great knob on one side of the bear's head, and an old scar that cleft his left hind-quarter almost in two. "Dis ole Devil-Bear come down all time to ranches, kill calf, eat lamb, carry off ennything, an' nobuddy ketch him. Evehbud' hunt and shoot, but Devil-Bear quick an' get away. He climb glacier, go over peaks, live evehwhere. "Sometime him in Flat Top, nudder time him down in Wyom. One time he run in Denver, kill horse, scare evehbuddy away, den run back to Flat Top." Tally laughed at the last memory. "Him steal cattle, even fight ranchers, so big reward out fer him," added Omney. "How can you be sure you have killed this demon?" asked Mrs. Vernon, eagerly. "We hear 'bout Devil-Bear and pickshers nail on all signboard for reward. Big scar in rump, big lump on haid--him got 'em," Tally replied. "Um! Dis scar make by rancher. One day he chop wood and fine sheep-dog play round. Devil-Bear steal out of woods, catch dog unner man's nose, and run away. Rancher so mad he frow axe at bear, an' it hit right there," explained Omney, poking his foot at the scar on the bear. "Rancher say dat bear neveh walk gin, but nex' year nudder rancher see bear kill calf an' many lamb and run away," added Tally. "Then I'm glad you shot him!" declared Betty, glaring at the dead beast. "But you've got to get him back to camp, boys, to get the reward," said Mrs. Vernon. The two Indians considered this the least of their problems, and when they had tied the forelegs and the hindlegs together, they swung the heavy animal from a long pole they had cut down from a clump of pine. That night when Mr. Gilroy heard the story, he assured the scouts that the guides had really done a great service to the country at large, as this bear had terrorized every one in the mountain ranches. "As a rule, grizzlies are not ferocious except when interfered with. They use their fine intelligence to keep man at a safe distance with their roaring and display of fierce strength. But this rascal was the exception, and it's well he is dead," added he. "If the guides get the reward, the scouts ought to have the pelt," suggested Mr. Vernon. "I'll see to it that they do," returned Mr. Gilroy. The Indians made quick work of skinning the beast and leaving the head on the body so the bump could be identified. The bear fat was tried out and saved by the guides, and several fine steaks were carved from the carcass and broiled, but the girls refused them. The men had no such qualms, however, and ate greedily, then smacked their lips laughingly at the disgust manifested on the scouts' faces. "Devil-Bear good eat!" chuckled Tally, as he wrapped the remaining steaks in a paper for another time. When the campers resumed their ride, Devil-Bear--or all that was left of him--was packed on Jolt's back. The mule cared not a fig for a dead bear, so the skin was carried along without demur, although the horses now and then caught a whiff of the bear-pelt and tossed their heads nervously. The trail up Flat Top Mountain proved as wonderful as it had promised to be. The scouts rode their horses without a tremor, although at times they went on narrow ledges, forded roaring streams, or plunged down through gulches, and over down-timber. They steadily climbed all that day, and towards night were on Flat Top--twelve thousand, three hundred feet high. Mr. Gilroy reached his desired Tyndall Glacier, and so delighted was he that he acted like a boy with a new toy. Here they camped for a few days while the scientist collected some interesting bits, then the party continued to the very top of the mountain. From this summit the scouts could see over the entire country for miles around. Estes Park looked like a tiny city park from that height. And Long's Peak appeared on a line with their sight. They could plainly see Stone's and Taylor's Peaks, and also Mt. Hallett, while several famous lakes,--Mills, Bierstadt, Dream, and others--were seen gleaming like sheets of blue ice down in the hollows between the crags. Fresh camp was pitched that night under the shadow of a gigantic column of jagged rock that rose perpendicularly above the tableland of the peak. The base of the rock was about a quarter of a mile around, but one side of the monolith dropped sheer down to a cliff a thousand feet below. From that ledge it again dropped down to another rocky resting-spot hundreds of feet lower. Thence it went straight down three thousand feet to the bottom of its stand, where it found a firm footing in the valley. As every one was tired with the climb of the day, they were soon fast asleep on the fragrant balsam beds, and slept until the snorting of the horses roused the Indians, and then they, in turn, called to the others to get up. CHAPTER TWELVE LOST IN A BLIZZARD It was early dawn but such dark clouds obscured everything that the scouts thought it still was night. "Bad storm blowin', Mees'r Gilloy. Us hurry down f'om here," said Tally, anxiously. "All right--all up, and hurry away!" shouted Mr. Gilroy, running for the horses, to help Omney saddle them for the ride. Soon thereafter, without stopping to attend to any of their customary toilets, the scouts were in the saddles and quickly following the guides down the trail on the opposite side from that they had mounted the day before. The blackness was now so thick that it was difficult to see any one ten feet ahead, and the girls could not see the trail at all. Then Tally suddenly shouted a warning to those behind him. "Huddle togedder--blizzer comin' down now!" And in a few seconds, an unexpected breaking of the clouds drove thick smothery, enveloping snow across the plateau. Even the heavy clouds seemed to choke everything in their folds. The wind, which blew a gale, uprooted trees and flicked them out of the way as if they were snips of paper. Gusts of the mad tornado tore off great masses of the dark clouds and, eddying them about, whirled the vapor out of them, away down the sides of the mountain. Trees, rocks, clods of earth, everything movable that presented an obstacle to the gale, was carried away like thistledown. The poor horses and pack-mules crouched close together, with heads low, making of their bodies as scant a resistance as possible against the storm, and at the same time providing shelter, with their steaming bodies, for the human beings who huddled under them. Then, as suddenly as the storm broke, it ceased. A weird light played over the plateau for a time, and Mr. Gilroy noted the worried expressions of the Indians. "What now, Tally?" "Us clim' saddles, stick gedder an' must get away!" shouted Tally, trying to be heard above the soughing of the wind, that was now blowing from behind the crag. Even as the riders tried to get into the saddles and start after Tally, a chill filled the air. It crept into bones and marrow, and in a few minutes the full fury of the blizzard was felt. In less than five minutes after the first snow fell, everything was drifted under white blankets. The cold bit into human flesh like sharp points of steel, and it was certain that every one must get down from that altitude immediately or be frozen to death. The Indians led the way, although they trusted their safety on these mountains entirely to the horses and their wonderful sense. The other riders tried to follow as closely as they could in the tracks made by the first two horses. Then as they descended further from the plateau, the storm abated and the temperature felt warmer, until they reached the place where dripping snow from all the tree branches and rocks thoroughly soaked the unfortunates. The mountainside was cut up by ravines and gulches, or "draws" as they are called, made by erosion of mountain streams that came from the glacier on top of Flat Top. From one of these draws the scouts could look down for miles to a place where it widened out through the velocity of the roaring waters and unearthed everything in its floods. Here and there great pines had fallen across and formed natural bridges over the chasms. At other spots the roots or branches of a tree washed down, would catch in the débris of the sides of a draw, obstructing the way and holding up great masses of waste that accumulated rapidly about the twisted limbs, when the torrent washed everything against this comb, that caught the larger objects. So the file of riders went carefully downward, on the watch for a favorable trail that might lead them to the valley. But every draw they found was so forbidding that they were repulsed from trying it. Some showed great rocks that might roll down at the slightest motion of the ground, and crush everything in their plunge. Even as they pondered the chance of going down one of these, the water caused by the melting snow loosened the grip of a great fragment of rock held up in the gorge, and down it crashed! Other draws displayed century-old snags, and down-timber that lay half-sunken in slimy ooze which trickled down from the mossy sides of the gully; these would suck in any horse or rider that was daring enough to try and go over them. Finally, Tally came to a draw which was not nearly so forbidding as the others, but it was a very deep chasm, and sent up echoes of roaring water in its bottom. "Wad yuh tink, Omney--do we try him?" asked Tally. "Tally, it looks terrifying!" gasped Mrs. Vernon. "Not so bad as udder ones," remarked Tally. "Must we go down any of them?" asked Mr. Vernon. "Mebbe we not find trail for two--four day, and grub mos' gone," returned Tally, meaningly. "We've got to trust to Tally's guidance, pards, so let us do exactly as he thinks best," added Mr. Gilroy. Feeling somewhat dubious about the outcome of this ride, the two Indians led down the steep sides of the gulch. The horses slipped, stumbled, and scrambled through the piled-up rubbish until it was a marvel that they had not broken legs and necks. The débris carried down by the streams that emptied into the torrents at the bottom of the draw, formed almost impassable barriers to going onward. But the day was breaking, and this cheered every one tremendously. Soon the darkness would be entirely dispelled and they could see just where the horses were stepping. "I'm so hungry I could almost eat this leather harness," remarked Anne, sighing. "Maybe we might catch something for an early breakfast, if we knew where to give our horses a stand while we hunted," said Ruth. Then, suddenly, they heard a crash of branches and rolling rocks, and there, outlined against the pale sky, stood a giant elk with head erect and ears attentive to the sounds from these riders. It was the first one the scouts had seen, and it was such a magnificent animal that a sight of it was thrilling. The elk waited with great antlers reared to their extreme height, long sensitive nose sniffing the air, and legs stiffened ready for a leap. The Captain drew the camera from a side-pocket of the saddle and planned to get a picture. But the wary animal heard the click of the shutter and sprang fully fifteen feet across the chasm to gain a ledge of rock that hung dangerously out. Every one gasped as he waited to see it miss footing, or roll down with the crag that surely would topple over with such added weight upon it. But the elk must have known its trail, for it lightly touched upon the rock, then vanished over the rim of the top. "There goes our venison steaks for breakfast!" sighed Julie, making the others laugh in spite of their troubles. The sides of the canyon near the bottom were filled with dangerous sink-holes, or bogs, that were a constant menace to the riders. For let a horse slip into one of these and he might be sucked down instantly. But the animals were sure-footed and accustomed to such rough traveling, and they instinctively avoided all soft soil. Ever and anon, a horse would slip on a rolling stone, or a hoof would break through rotten timber, so that the scouts were being constantly jolted one side or another. Finally they found better going along a narrow ledge that looked like an old trail. But it began nowhere and ended--well, it terminated suddenly just ahead of Tally's next step! "Back! Back!" yelled Tally, dragging on the reins with all his might. That effectually halted the others, who were so close behind him, and Mr. Vernon leaned over to ask, "What is it, Tally?" "Big hole--she go down mebbe fifty feet to bottom. Gotta back out and go round nudder way." "Oh, mercy sakes! Back out all along this narrow ledge?" cried the scouts. But while they spoke, Jolt passed them, going on the verge of the ledge, and causing every one to tremble for his life. When he was passing Tally, the guide shouted angrily, "Whoa! Whoa!" But Jolt acted exactly like a sleep-walker does. He paid no attention to sight or sound, and in another moment he would have walked right over the edge of the precipice, had not Tally jumped from his saddle and caught hold of the guide rope that had been tied to his halter before entering the gully. This slight hold, however, did not save the mule from disappearing over the verge of the cliff, and it almost yanked Tally over, too. The only thing that saved the guide was Omney, who jumped to assist his friend when Jolt went by. The rope was instantly wound about a tree stump and braced. Then Tally climbed warily to safety, before the loose shale should crumble in with his weight. Every one had been speechless with horror a moment before, but now every one spoke with loosened tongue. "The mule had all the food-stuffs," said Anne. "And the camp outfit as well," added Mr. Vernon. "Just think of the poor thing--down there crushed to bits," wept Betty. Some felt sorry for Jolt, and some felt sorry for themselves. Then Tally said, "Eef light scout crawl ober an' tell what her see Jolt doin', mebbe we save him." Betty was the lightest so she offered her services. She was tied securely to one of the ropes that hung on the saddle-horn, and Tally advised her what to do. "Crawl to edge, look down. Tell what Jolt do, or eef he mashed in bottom!" So Betty crept slowly over the shale and reached the edge of the ravine. She peered down, and the sunlight that shone through the trees just then, helped her to see plainly. "Jolt's standing on a wide ledge of rock about twenty feet lower than this one. His packs are gone--guess they tumbled down when the straps burst open. But there isn't any _spare_ room for him to exercise on," reported Betty. "Did you say he was standing upon his feet?" asked Mr. Gilroy, unbelievingly. "Yes, with his head facing towards the outlet of this chasm. He hears me talking, 'cause I see him prick up his long ears." "Al' light," said Tally, joyfully. "Tell me, do ledge end in hole like dis-a-one do?" "No, it looks as if it ran right down to the valley, Tally. I can see the sunlight down at the end, about a mile away." That caused great joy in each heart, and Tally said, "Al'light, now come back." So the scout crawled back, while Tally spoke with Omney and planned what to do. The result of this conversation was then apparent. Tally tied a long rope to his own waist, and Omney began paying out the rope as the Indian went over the edge of the gulch. Every one held his breath to wait developments. Then they heard Tally shout, "Al'light--le' go." "Now us back out--Tally ride Jolt down valley," announced Omney. "O Hominy! Do you think the mule is all right?" cried Ruth. "Tally say so. Us go back now." So back they went in every sense of the word--back along the ledge, and backwards all the way. The horses climbed the rocky slope and went along the top-side of the chasm, but it was no better adapted for comfortable riding than the bottom had been. After an hour of dreadful jumps and jolts and slips, the riders came out to the valley that Betty had spoken of, at the end of the draw. There stood Tally, grinning with good news. "Fine camp!" "But where is Jolt?" demanded the scouts. "Him dockered up wid bear-grease, bandages, an' herb!' laughed Tally, pointing to a place where they could see a mule taking things easy on the grass. "Got packs out, Tally?" asked Omney. "Us go in get 'em now, Omney. Scouts make camp an' we come back wid grub, pooty soon." So the two guides rode in through the chasm again, along the bottom beside the river, and the scouts rode on to make camp where Tally had directed them. There the scouts found one of the most interesting shelters of all on that camping-trip. It was discovered under the wide overspreading boughs of a clump of firs which had so grown that a perfectly clear and covered area in the center provided a Nature-made house. While Ruth and Betty were ordered to clean up the sticks and stones on the ground under the trees, the other girls gathered balsam and made the beds. The two men went to fish, and the Captain built a good fire to cook the combination breakfast and dinner, as it was now long past noon. Tally and Omney came back after a long absence, but they had the packs, a little the worse for the fall, to be sure. "I see this is the last can of soup and our last can of beans," ventured Mrs. Vernon, when she opened the food-pack. "Um! Us know rancher--plenty grub in him lodge," said Tally, significantly. Everybody laughed at his wink that accompanied the words. The ride from Flat Top had been so strenuous that the scouts camped that night in the fir-tree lodge, as they had called it. All retired early, as they hoped to make a start at dawn in order to reach the rancher's, where Tally said he could buy a stock of food. But a number of timber wolves howled about the camp all the night through, keeping the tired travelers half-awake. Towards dawn they must have followed another scent, as all was quiet in the forests thereafter. The Captain was startled out of a sound sleep by a strange "s-swish"--close to her ear. Springing up with the remembrance of the wolves, she heard Tally whisper through the pine-boughs, "Tell scout come see caribou in valley." In a few moments every one was up and out of the tree-lodge. The scouts saw the men crouching down behind a large boulder that stood near the verge of a steep descent to the green valley below. The curious girls soon joined them and then witnessed a most unusual sight. Down in the valley, several hundred yards away, was a herd of caribou grazing on the juicy grass. A fine buck with antlers spreading far from each side of his head, jumped about as if worked by springs. If a cow got in his way he stamped his polished hoofs and threatened her with his flattened horns. But the cows seemed not to mind such idle threats on the part of the bull, and continued grazing. Julie laughed. "They're suffrage caribou--they know how a male talks fine but seldom does what he brags about!" This started an animated argument between Mr. Gilroy and the Scout Leader, which was suddenly hushed by the behavior of the buck. He lifted his nose, sniffed angrily and stamped his hoof in token that he resented any interference with his family's breakfast. "What's the matter with him?" asked Joan in a whisper. "Maybe he scented human beings watching him," suggested Anne. Tally shook his head, but in another moment the scouts learned what had caused his annoyance. He now sounded a warning to the cows, and they all lifted their heads instantly and sniffed as the buck had done. "Dear me, I hope they won't run away," wished Ruth, and then she saw that they would not run--they would defend themselves. From out the dark fringe of forest there now crept a number of lean hungry timber-wolves, looking like long grey shadows of the trees. So slowly and noiselessly did they move that only animals trained to defend themselves in the wilderness would have known an enemy was so close at hand. As they moved, the four men silently lifted their rifles, and waited for the signal from Tally to shoot. "Are those the wolves we heard last night?" asked Julie. "Most likely, or some like them," returned Mr. Gilroy, in a whisper that only those next him could hear. "Um! t'ree of 'em--get reward fur dem coyotes!" grinned Omney. The caribou, warned in time by the bull, saw the skulking beasts creeping, creeping like the shadows towards them, and they instantly formed their defence, as they always do in case of extreme danger when it is wiser to fight than to fly. With their hind legs closed together like the center of a wheel, and their heads presenting antlers pointing towards the enemy like bayonets on the defence line in a battle, the herd stood perfectly still and waited. "Wonderful sight!" breathed Mrs. Vernon. "Oh, for that camera! It is in the duffel-bag," sighed Julie. But the scene now grew too exciting for any scout to yearn over forgotten kodaks, for the wolves were almost near enough to begin their raid. The four rifles still pointed directly at them, but the signal was not yet forthcoming. Tally knew when to fire. Just as the foremost wolf rose on his hind legs to hurl himself at the caribou nearest him, and the bull bellowed madly and wheeled to attack, Tally signaled. Four spurts of blue and four streaks of red--and three timber wolves rolled over dead! At the sound of those dire sounds which the bull understood to be as deadly as a wolf, he lifted his snout high in the air, called hastily to his herd, and the wheel broke--the caribou trotted away swiftly and disappeared in the forest. "That certainly was a sight worth seeing," sighed the Captain. "But I must hang that camera about my neck, day in and day out, or I shall miss the best pictures every time." At breakfast that morning Mr. Gilroy said, "I had planned to cross the Continental Divide at Milner's Pass, because of the beauties of the Fall River Road, but this unexpected slide down from Flat Top yesterday, disarranged all these plans. What shall we do about it?" "What was your next point of interest, had we gone over the pass as you had planned?" asked Mrs. Vernon. "Well, you see, I thought we would land somewhere near Beaver Creek on the western slope of the Divide. I know a number of ranchers living about that section, and I thought the scouts might enjoy spending a week or so on these ranches." "If it's all the same to you, Gilly, we'd rather enjoy the wildlife of the Rockies instead of ranching," ventured Julie. "Oh, it's all the same. In fact, I'd rather not use any time on the ranches while I still have many interesting moraines to explore," said he. "Then we'll plan a new route. What would you do next?" said the Captain. "We are near the Meadow Fork of Grand River, I think, and we can follow that to reach Grand Lake. Then we can trail from there, along the North Fork of the Grand, until we reach Hot Sulphur Springs. After a visit to the Springs, we can go down Goré Canyon, cross the Goré Range, and thus reach Steamboat Springs." "All right, let's do as you just said," remarked Mr. Vernon. "Tally give up Devil-Bear and timber wolves at Spring," now said Tally. "All right, Tally, but don't you think the girls ought to share in the reward for the wolves? We helped shoot them," said Mr. Gilroy. "Um, sure! Scout git Devil-Bear money, too!" said Tally, amazed that any one should have thought otherwise. "How so?" demanded Julie. "Tally 'gree to guide, hunt, fish, help Mees'r Gilloy an' scout all way frough summer. Devil-Bear kill in hunt, but Tally paid for time," explained the Indian, thus refuting the reputation many white men give the Indian, that he will take advantage of other races every chance he gets. "Oh, no, Tally! We wouldn't think of such a division!" exclaimed the Captain. "Give us the pelts and you take the reward." As this suggestion was seconded by the others, Tally and Omney grinned joyously, for it was a windfall they had not looked for. Further along the trail, Tally turned off to stop at a ranch-house and lay in a supply of flour and what other edibles the ranch-owner would sell him. Then they continued over the mountains. Had the scouts come suddenly upon the Continental Divide they would have been speechless with the grandeur of it, but they had been riding past and over many peaks, canoeing down marvelous waterways, and had climbed all the ranges that led to the Divide, so that they scarcely realized that they were crossing the stupendous elevation until they heard Tally speak. "Mos' over now, foothills all way to Sulphur Springs." As they rode on, looking for Meadow Fork, along which Mr. Gilroy wished to trail, many questions were asked by the scouts and answered by the Indians. Ruth then said, "I've heard a lot about Hot Sulphur Springs, Gilly, but what thrilling sight shall we find there?" "Its name might lead you to believe you would see the apparition who is said to have charge of all sulphur worlds," said Julie, giggling. "Also you will have an opportunity to taste the nastiest drinking water he--Julie's friend--ever sent bubbling forth," added Mr. Gilroy, quickly. "That friend and I had a falling out and now we are not on speaking terms!" retorted Julie, and the others laughed. "Why stop there, then? Let's go on to Goré's Canyon,--that sounds awfully thrilling," remarked Joan. "Is it named Gory, Gilly, because so many Red Men scalped the early settlers out here?" asked Betty. "Oh, no," laughed Mr. Gilroy. "It is named after an Irish nobleman, Sir George Goré, who discovered the canyon while he and a party of friends were hunting big game in the Rockies many years ago, before folks went over the Divide. In those days it was considered a marvelous feat to go into the Rockies." "If every one can have a mountain named after them, why can't I have one called 'Juliet's Peak'?" demanded the irrepressible scout. "You can, if you like. That is the easiest part of all, but how will other tourists know that that particular peak is named for _you_?" laughed Mr. Gilroy. "You'd have to advertise the fact by some wild adventure, or great patriotic deed," added Mr. Vernon. "Oh, I can advertise, all right!" retorted Julie. "I'll take a great bucket of whitewash and a calcimine brush; then on every flat-faced rock along the trail, up one side and down the other, I'll slap a hand-painted sign on every one of them: 'This is Juliet's Peak,' and the finger in ghostly white will point to my peak." Her ridiculous explanation caused every one to laugh, but when Jolt turned and opened his jaw wide to emit the grating sound "Hee--haw! Hee--haw!" the riders declared it was screamingly opportune of the mule. Late in the afternoon, the second day from Flat Top, the scouts had their first battle with a rattlesnake. It is claimed that one never sees a rattler on the east slope of the Rockies,--why, it is not stated. But one certainly encounters many of them on the west side and on other ranges in Colorado. They were jogging along comfortably when Julie's horse suddenly leaped aside and climbed a steep bank beside the trail. The other horses trembled, and instantly the warning rattle sounded. Tally hurried back and saw a huge reptile coiled at one side of the trail, half-hidden under a bush. He jumped from the saddle and snapped a hickory stick from a young sapling nearby. Then he whipped the rattler over the back. He could not break its back as the bush fended the blows. But Omney and Tally could so tire the reptile with blows that kept its head swinging from side to side, that finally they might jump on it. The scouts sat and watched this interesting fight, the rattler darting its forked tongue venomously at the sticks, and in so doing having to turn its head from one to the other. This defence kept it from uncoiling and gliding away. Neither could it spring from the coil to strike while its head was so busy. At last it showed signs of weariness, and once, when it momentarily forgot to strike at Tally's whip but struck twice in succession at the stick Omney wielded, the former took instant advantage of it, and in another moment his heel was planted upon the flat head. Then the guides dragged the sinuous reptile out and measured it. It was fully five feet long, from head to tip of tail where ten rattles were attached. Tally removed these, and with a bow presented them to the Captain,--an honor shown all Tenderfeet in the Rockies, if a rattler is encountered by the natives. "Him make fine money book, er belt," suggested Omney, when the scouts shuddered at the diamond-backed rattler. "Oh, yes, we must send the skin home to be cured and made into souvenirs, girls!" exclaimed Mr. Gilroy. In vain did the riders look for other rattlers after that, for every one wanted every skin that could be gotten for souvenirs. Mr. Gilroy rode along, watching for the familiar landmarks that would tell him he had found Meadow Fork, but he finally admitted that he must have taken the wrong turn back by the ranch. They rode past lovely streams and camped beside a most enchanting lake, then on, alongside a fine river, but Mr. Gilroy did not find his Meadow Fork or Grand Lake. Finally, from the summit of one of the lower peaks on the western slope of the Rockies, the scouts saw a valley spread out before them, and concentrated in one spot of this valley were numerous dots, that were dwelling-houses, together with several large ones, that denoted they were hotels. Mr. Gilroy rubbed his eyes, then stared. "Now, if I did not know better, I'd swear that that was Sulphur Springs." "'Tis Sp'ings," chuckled Tally. "But, Tally, it can't be! We haven't found Meadow Fork or Grand River, yet! Have we trailed along some other way?" wondered Mr. Gilroy. The town proved to be the Springs, and there Mr. Gilroy learned that he had been riding along Meadow Fork, had camped at Grand Lake, and then followed Grand River, without knowing it. This error in judgment gave the scouts a never-ending chance for teasing him, thereafter. That night the horses, as well as their riders, were glad to stretch out upon comfortable town-made beds, and in the morning the breakfast was already provided for all, instead of their having to first gather it. The first thing the guides did after breakfast was to cash in their reward for Devil-Bear. The skin proved their claim, and word instantly circulated that two Indians had killed the menace of the ranches. The scouts received the reward for the tongues of the timber-wolves which Tally had brought into town, and thus the scouting party soon found fame camping on their doorstep. The local papers made much of them, and the girls took a keen delight in mailing home copies of the papers containing the account of their exploits. CHAPTER THIRTEEN A FOREST FIRE "Now, friends, let us get away as soon as possible, or the guides may spend all their reward money on firewater, and be unable to start for a week," suggested Mr. Gilroy, confidentially, to the scouts. "Why don't you take the money and deposit it for them in a bank?" asked Julie. "I offered to keep it for them, but they were not overanxious to part with the cash. I know the boys too well to dream that they can withstand temptations of a town when they have such easy money to burn." So the riders planned to leave immediately, starting away soon after the midday meal. "I'm not sorry to leave the Springs with its ailing visitors behind," remarked Joan, as they got back into the saddles. "Thank goodness we are not rheumatic, or gone to pieces, to have to come here to be mended again," declared Julie. "I should think the horrid water would kill them, instead of curing," added Ruth, making a wry face at the remembrance of her taste of the waters. "It isn't the water that cures, remember," said Mr. Gilroy, "it is the people's faith in it. And some folks believe that the more disagreeable a cure tastes, the better it will act." From Hot Sulphur Springs the party rode through Goré Canyon, and then over the Goré Range, as Mr. Gilroy had planned. The climb up the latter mountains was one of the thrilling experiences of the trip. Following Tally through an unbroken wilderness, they unexpectedly came upon an old lumber-road. Along this they trailed until it ended in a natural clearing of over a thousand acres. The park was surrounded by dense forests with apparently no trail leading from it. "Here we are, boys! In, all right, but no way out," called Mr. Vernon, smiling at the perplexed looks of the riders. "That means that every one has to hunt for a blaze of some kind," returned Mrs. Vernon. "The blazes are here, all right, but the trail is such an old one that the young timber has, likely, grown up and hidden the old pines which carry the signs," added Mr. Gilroy. Thereupon, every scout began to thrash through bushes and between young trees, hunting for the much-desired blaze. It was Betty's luck to find it, although she really wasn't looking as anxiously for it as were the other scouts. She saw a queer scar on an old pine before her when she broke through some brush, and she was studying its strange formation when Tally came up behind her. He recognized the blaze and laughed. "Betty find him! Come see!" shouted he. The others galloped across the park and stared at the deeply scarred pine, while Tally read its meaning to them. "It must have been blazed in the days of the First People," said Julie. But little attention was paid her remark, as every one was eager to go on. Tally broke a way through the jungle of bush and young timber, and finally they all came out to the silent woods again. They rode through twilight forests of gigantic red-spruce trees, measuring from three to six feet in diameter and towering over a hundred feet in height. The ground under these was carpeted with pine needles, which lay, year after year, until no sound echoed from the hoofbeats upon them. Looking in any direction, the scouts could see only dense forests, with not a crevice in their vaulted roofs of green where the sun might filter through. These pines seemed to waft down virgin incense upon the heads of the riders, who fully appreciated the still beauty of the place, and the velvety corridors they went along. Then the trail became steeper, and the trees grew smaller, allowing great splashes of sunshine to bask here and there upon the passive treetrunks, or to sprawl out upon the thick pine needles that covered the ground. After riding for several hours, the scouts left the pine forest behind, and rode out upon a faint trail that ran through aspen brakes. Now and then they came to parks where the trail lost itself, and every one had to seek for it again. A great deal of time was lost in each park they came to, over thus finding the trail, as so many misleading ones were made in the thick buffalo grass by wild animals that came to graze there. The only thing Tally relied upon for the right way was by finding a blaze upon an old tree nearby. During the climb, the horses often came upon sudden precipitous descents that had to be zigzagged down through loose stone and débris, then up again on the other side. When the riders reached the highest altitude of the Goré Range and looked about, they found themselves among sheer cliffs, that obstructed any distant views. "Feels like lunchtime to me," ventured Anne. "I should think you'd say dinnertime--that's the way it feels to me," laughed Julie. "I was afraid to say that, because I am always credited,--unjustly of course,--with being the gourmand of the Troop," retorted Anne. Tally now led along a trail that ran through a small park, that lay between two towering cliffs which shut off all sight of anything on either side of them. Along the bottom of this ravine-like park a clear stream of water gurgled noisily. "Shall we camp here for luncheon?" asked the Captain, seeing the sweet green grass and cooling stream. "Oh, no, Verny! Let's find some woods to stop in. It's not very inviting to feel shut in so far down," returned Julie. So they rode on, the horses picking their careful way over stones and roots, and their riders having to pay strict attention to the trail. The trail wound about upthrusts of rock, where other streams ran to fall down the sides of the ravine, causing it to widen as it needed more space to carry the added waters. And at last, the scouts could see, in the distance, that the cliffs ahead ended and the stream also passed from view. "Where the cliffs end will be a dandy spot for camp. We shall be able to sit and gaze over the park that most likely is to be found there," suggested Joan, eagerly. "If you don't camp somewhere soon, you'll find me ended there!" sighed Anne, comically. Before they reached this "end" however, the Captain held up a hand for silence, as she said, "That's a queer sound I hear!" The others reined in their horses and listened. They then heard it, also. Mr. Vernon said, "Sounds like thunder, I think." "No, it sounds more like a stampede of cattle on a ranch. If you've ever heard the hoofbeats of a herd of steer, you'd know that this is like it," came from Mr. Gilroy. Tally grinned at both men. "Him waterfall!" "Waterfall! All that volume of sound?" asked Mr. Gilroy, skeptically. "Him _big waterfall_," repeated Tally. "Let's hurry to find it, then!" declared Julie, urging her horse forward and gaining the corner of the cliff at the end of the ravine, ahead of her companions. The crags completely hid all that might be beyond them; but as the riders went along, the volume of sound increased until the roaring of water convinced every one that the Indian must be right in his surmise. Then they passed around the obstructing crag, and sat spellbound at the panorama spread out before them. The first glimpse of this tremendous waterfall was that of tawny green water bounding headlong over the precipice. Its dynamic vehemence had cleft a fearful way through the crags on either side of it, and adown its course one could see black hulks of rock that projected out from the swirling flood. The roar and thunder of this tremendous stream prevented any one from hearing other sounds. The group of riders sat enthralled by the sight, then they next permitted their eyes to wander beyond the immediate falls to the magnificent view spread out in such space below and beyond. In the far distance the snow-capped peaks lay, one behind the other, until they were lost to sight in the drifting clouds on the horizon. But, as if loath to merge so quickly with the clouds, here and there one or more peaks would appear with their sharp points above the mist, and there reflect the glory of the shining sun. From the far horizon and its peaks, the eyes now dropped gradually from one height to the next lower down, until they rested upon a valley that lay fully fifteen hundred feet below the crags where the scouts stood. The panorama was so vast in extent and so impressive in its sense of infinitude, that the spectators scarcely drew their breath. The whole scene shimmered through the soft clouds that hung above the waterfalls and made it look like the reflections in a soap-bubble, with iridescent colors shining on the sphere. So ethereal appeared the picture that it seemed as if a slight vibration would surely shatter the bubble. This grand painting had existed here for centuries before the coming of the scouts to admire it, and there it promised to remain intact for centuries more after mortals should pass from the earth. Here and there across this valley a ribbon of water wound a silent course away out of sight. From the great falls a mighty river flowed for miles until that, too, appeared like a silver ribbon, tying the land fancifully in its loops. The silence was broken at last by Anne. "Can we find a better place for dinner than this grand cliff?" The tension broke with a snap, and the others glared at the perplexed scout. Finally Julie cried, scornfully, "Can you find anything in that scene besides patches where food is grown?" Good-natured Anne laughed, and shrugged her shoulders. "I think it is as beautiful as the Great Spirit ever made, but unfortunately I am not yet entirely spiritual. I find I must eat a bite now and then, to enable me to enjoy these pictures." Her excuse for the interruption made every one laugh, and Mrs. Vernon then added, "I think Anne's suggestion very good,--to camp here and have dinner." "Let Hominy lead the horses back to the grassy ravine to graze, while Tally cooks dinner," added Mr. Vernon. So Omney rode back, leading the rest of the horses and the two pack-mules. Tally soon had the dinner cooking, but there was no chance of catching fish in that swift water, so they were satisfied that day with pork and beans, bread and jam for dinner. After descending the last rampart of the Goré Range, the scouts heard Tally speak confidently of the locality they were in, but Mr. Gilroy seemed to differ with the guide. "Me think us mos' here," insisted the Indian. "Maybe you're right! I was mistaken before, so I'll give in," laughed Mr. Gilroy. "What is it, Gilly?" asked some of the scouts. "Tally says we are nearly at Steamboat Springs, and I say we are not. Now we will see who is right!" They had not gone much farther along the trail, however, before the scouts discovered strawberries! Great luscious wild berries they were, and growing profusely everywhere in the grass. "I guess Tally was right," admitted Mr. Gilroy. "We're in the wonderful strawberry belt that is so famous about Steamboat Springs." Colorado strawberries are as famous, throughout the West, as the Rockyford melons are in the East; so the scouts made the most of their opportunity to eat the delicious berries while they were at the Springs. They visited the plants where berries are packed and shipped, and also visited a factory where jams were prepared. This progressive little town, although so young, compared favorably with the larger cities of the East. It was equipped with electric light, telephones, paved streets, first-class public service, and other modern welfare improvements. The evening after the scouts had visited the packing-houses that shipped strawberries to the markets, Mr. Gilroy sat studying a large map. Julie kept silent for a long time (for her) and finally spoke. "What's the map for? Any change in plans?" "I was figuring out whether or not we might possibly have time to go on a tangent trip, and take in Yellowstone Park, as long as we are so near Wyoming," he returned. "Oh, fine! Do let's do that, Verny!" cried several of the girls. "But that means an extended trip, Mr. Gilroy, and I do not see how we are going to finish all you have planned and still get back to Denver in time to take these girls back to school in September," remonstrated Mrs. Vernon. An argument instantly followed, in which the scouts sided with Mr. Gilroy, arguing that time was no consideration when such wonderful sights as the geysers of the Yellowstone could be seen. Mrs. Vernon was firm, however, in her protest that school came before all such other considerations. Mr. Vernon also added his weighty decision by saying that he had to be back in New York City the first week in September, without fail. "Then we will have to retrace our trail across the Rockies and travel slowly southward on the west side of the mountains," was Mr. Gilroy's reluctant rejoinder. "Does that mean we can't go any farther than Steamboat Springs?" asked Julie, querulously. "We might go on to Craig, and visit Cedar Mountain from the peak of which we can look over into Wyoming. That seems to be as near to it as we will come this summer," laughed Mr. Gilroy. Julie pouted, and the other scouts sat and waited for developments. Mr. Vernon thought for a time, then turned to his friend with a suggestion. "You wanted to cross the Divide at Milner's Pass because of the scenic beauty of the Fall River Road; now, why not cross it in going back to the eastern slope of the Rockies, and thence turn south?" "I had thought of doing that, but the point at issue now seems Wyoming 'to be or not to be?'" "That was just settled, as far as Uncle and I are concerned," added Mrs. Vernon, hastily. "It's 'not to be' because I swore solemnly that these girls would be home before Labor Day if they were permitted to take this trip. So home we go in time to begin school the first day of the Fall term." "Dear me! It looks as if Verny had the wire-pulling this time!" sighed Joan, in such a tone that every one laughed. "And of course where _she goes_, I have to follow!" said Ruth. "Yes, sort of a 'Ruth and Naomi' proposition," retorted Julie. This decision reached, without further resistance from the scouts, they retired for the night with the plan agreed upon to leave Steamboat Springs in the morning and start for the Park Range of the Divide. The packs had been well filled for the new venture in the mountains, and having breakfasted royally early in the morning, the tourists started out on the trail. The horses had had such a good rest and the mules were so frisky again, that the line of riders made splendid time from Steamboat Springs to the hills. They had climbed up one mountain and down the other side, then the next one, and then another, until Tally called a halt for something to eat. It was long past noon, and the horses were hungry, too. They were very near the summit of one of the lower ranges of mountains, and Mr. Gilroy suggested that they go on to the top and there rest and eat. "And look out for a stream of water which is palatable for use," added Mr. Vernon. As they rode to the summit of the mountain, the scouts conversed with Mr. Gilroy on various matters. But the thing that seemed to impress them most, was the fact that here they were back in the same mountains, and yet every day added new scenes and delights to the tour. "It really doesn't seem as if we had ever been in one of these mountains before, because every step brings out new wonders," remarked Mrs. Vernon, as they all neared the top of the peak they had been ascending. The sound of falling water now attracted Tally's attention, and he broke into the heavy undergrowth to locate the stream. This done, he came back and reported that he had found a fine place for the dinner. They all dismounted at the spot, and the two men started downstream to fish, while the guides assigned various tasks to the different members of the party. Then, when the scouts had finished their work and the men were not yet back from fishing, they climbed to a crag of rock whence they expected to have a fine view. "Well, did you ever!" exclaimed Ruth, the first to reach the top of the crag. "What a queer fog for a mountainside!" was Julie's reply. The other scouts now crowded up to see what caused these remarks, and as they gazed down upon a thick mantle of yellow, one of the girls called to Mrs. Vernon. She hastily climbed up beside them and looked as perplexed as her charges. "Tally," called she, turning to beckon the Indian, "see if this is smoke, will you?" "Him smoke!" affirmed Tally, the moment he saw the blanket beneath them. "What! A fire in the forest?" cried several of the girls. "Then we can't go through, can we?" asked Julie. "Mebbe. Us wait and see," returned Tally. "But scout get camera ready _dis_ time. Fine picksher pooty soon when an'mals run f'om fire." "Verny, get the camera! Hurry up!" exclaimed the scouts, while Tally returned to his cooking. His indifference to the fire that enveloped the forest tended to allay any fears they might have had. So they sat and watched the consuming flames as they swept across the forest and everywhere destroyed the fine timber. Unfortunately, the fire started at the base of the mountain so it quickly spread upward; had it begun at the top it would have burned itself out slowly for lack of fuel above where the draught always blows it. Joan now leaned forward, and cried, "Look, quick!" The scouts turned to gaze in the direction she pointed, and saw a number of beavers crossing a small park in order to reach a stream that flowed through the clearing. Immediately after the colony of beavers came a few deer, stopping now and then to turn and stare wonderingly at the heat that caused them such discomfort. Then, to the amazement of the scouts, a large bear followed upon the heels of the deer, but he had no thought now of making a meal of venison. He seemed anxious only to reach a place where smoke and fire would not annoy him. Now and then the girls saw him stop, return a few paces and sound a queer growl. Then they saw the cause of this action. A fat little cub finally ran out from the thick blanket of smoke, and hurried after its mother. When it came up to the old bear, it jumped about gleefully, never dreaming of the danger they were fleeing from. But the she-bear evidently thought this was no time for unseemly play, and gave the cub a smart cuff over the ear. The little fellow rolled over with the force of the slap, but then ran along beside his mother in meek submission to authority. Tally now joined them again on the crag, and when the scouts had told of the bear, Ruth added, "But there are no birds escaping, Tally." "Dem gone long go. Fire drive dem firs'." "I'm glad of that, but just think of all the fledglings that _can't_ fly and escape," said Betty. "Let's think of something pleasanter," retorted Julie. "Yes, let's think of dinner that Tally says is waiting," added Anne, laughingly. As they sat down to dine, the scouts saw Omney sitting up on their former post of observation. As they wanted to ride on as soon as possible, one of the scouts asked why the guide didn't eat his dinner, too. "Him watch if fire jump. Him kin eat dere as here." "The fire is burning the other way, Tally," said Julie. "Mebbe him jump back, if wind change. So Omney watch." "If it blows this way, what must we do?" asked the Captain. "Ride back trail us come. An' ride fas', too." But the fire kept on burning its way in the direction it began to go, and after a long rest on the crags to permit the pall of smoke to be blown away, the guides led the way down the slope. All the down-timber had been burned to ash which was still hot in spots. So the horses picked their way between these heaps. Every vestige of brush, all vegetation, and living creatures were gone. Charred tree trunks showed where the flames had licked up the bark to get at the pine branches overhead, and there, high above the heads of the riders, the fire still raged through the resinous tops. "It's a Sodom and Gomorrah for desolation, isn't it?" said Julie. In all the fire-swept district the scouts saw not one charred body of animals that live in the woods. A coyote lay at the edge of the area, dead from the blow of an animal with sharp claws, but that had happened after the fire. Julie thought the bear probably did it because the horrid little coyote tried to get a bite of fat little cub. "But see all the poor, poor trees," sighed Betty. "Yes, these fires destroy more timber than all other forces put together," returned Mr. Gilroy. "Because of the resinous matter in pine or spruce, they burn quicker and make a hotter fire than other trees. But fortunately for future forests, the flames never can reach the roots and seedlings buried under ground, so these shortly sprout up and start new timber. "It is not often that a fire sweeps over the same area again for centuries, unless some fool tenderfoot leaves a campfire burning, or shakes the hot ashes from a pipe." They all rode forward as quickly as possible, for night was coming on apace, and every one was anxious to get out of the burnt district before dark. So they pitched camp as soon as they got beyond the fire line. That night, flares like torches shot up from many of the standing trees on the hillside, and they continued burning for several days after the under fire had passed along. The light from these treetops cast weird shadows upon the camp. "I never want to see another forest-fire," declared Joan, as she turned her face away from these flickering glares. "None of us do, but as long as there _was_ a fire, we are glad to have seen it," replied Julie. "And I'm glad it was a _little_ one," added the Captain. "You wouldn't say that was a little fire, would you?" asked several of the scouts. "Tally said it was not over a mile frontage, and that, he says, is a small one. If we saw a fire that stretched for miles along a forest ridge and kept on burning for days and days,--that, he claims, would be a big fire!" All through that night blood-curdling cries came from the devastated district. The howls of panthers, growls of the bears, cries of coyotes, and yelps of timber-wolves, kept the campers awake. In the morning, Tally started early to seek the cause of such a clamor in the night. "Dat ole dead coyote! Him mak all dat trubble," laughed the guide, upon his return to camp. "Dem starvin' an'mals all wand'da eat him, so dey fight and fight, but ole grizzle fight bes' an' git him." CHAPTER FOURTEEN LOST IN THE BAD LANDS The following day the guides led the way up and down the sides of mountains, sometimes the trail running beside steep cliffs that rose sheer above the tourists' heads, and again past ravines where rushing, tumbling waters silenced all other sounds. About noon of the third day after leaving Steamboat Springs, they reached the steepest climb of that trip. As they were nearing the top of the peak, Tally's horse suddenly fell over on its side and kicked its heels wildly. The guide managed to jump clear of the leather and wild kicks, but the other riders sat speechless with fear at what was going to be the result of this awful spectacle. Before any one had time to offer help, however, the horse Mr. Gilroy rode did the same. The scouts immediately started to dismount, for they feared what might happen if their animals rolled and plunged as the first two were doing. "Are they having fits?" asked Julie, anxiously. "No, the unusually steep climb and the altitude affects horses this way quite often," explained Mr. Gilroy. "I wish they'd let the rider know before they flop that way," said Joan, "then we might jump clear of their hoofs." "If one had time to warn others of what was about to happen unexpectedly, very few people would have accidents," laughed Mrs. Vernon. In a few minutes the horses got upon their feet, shook themselves thoroughly, and then waited to proceed on the trail. Another halfhour's climb and they all reached the top of the peak. After leaving the timber-line, the riders found the scrub bushes grew scraggier and shorter, and finally the top of the peak was left as bare and craggy as any volcanic formation. From the top of one of these crags, Tally peered across an expanse of what looked like a rolling sea, but it was grey instead of blue-green. When Mr. Gilroy saw this sea of sand, he quickly adjusted his glasses and gazed silently for a long time. "Well, Tally, what do you make it out to be?" asked he. "Him Bad Land--but I not know him in our way," returned the guide, apologetically. "That's what I think about him--very bad land," chuckled Mr. Vernon, shading his eyes with both hands and staring down at the desert. "What does that mean, Uncle? Do we have to cross it?" asked Julie. "Either cross it, or go back the way we climbed and try to go around it--that means several days wasted on back-trailing." "I can just discern the tiny thread of a trail that winds a way across that desert to the other side. We can easily follow the track and do it in one afternoon," said Mr. Gilroy. "You don't think we shall be running any risks, do you?" ventured Mrs. Vernon. "None whatever. If we were down at the base of this peak, right now, you would see how simple a thing it is to ride across the sand. The only danger in these Colorado wastes is when a storm threatens. But the sky is as clear as can be, and the day is too far spent now, for the sun to start anything going." "The only hazard we take in crossing the sand waste, is that darkness may overtake us before we reach the other side, and that might cause us to stray from the trail," suggested Mr. Vernon. "With two good guides to lead us, we take no risk on that score," returned Mr. Gilroy. "At least it will prove to be a novel trip--climbing mountains and riding over a desert of sand all in the same day," said Julie, eagerly willing to try the experience. Luncheon was hastily disposed of, and Tally led them all down the steep trail of the mountainside for several hours. Then they reached the lodgepole pine, which is the only timber that can hold out against desert storms in bad weather and in winter. "Before we begin this desert ride, do let's look for some water," begged Ruth. "I'm thirsty as a sandpiper." "Quite appropriate, too, as long as we are going to be closely affiliated with the sand," giggled Joan. Tally and the two men had gone on before, and had not heard Ruth's request, or they might have spared the scouts a great deal of unpleasantness. They had hoped to strike the trail they had seen across the desert, so they rode in different directions to locate it, and the captain and girls were left to amble slowly along until one or all of the men returned for them. So it happened that Ruth and Joan wandered about in search of drinking-water, and shortly after they left the rest of the scouts, Mrs. Vernon heard Ruth call. "Come here! We've found a lovely little spring!" The girls quickly followed in the newly broken trail that was plainly seen, and reached the pool of water that was hidden by sagebushes and low lava-rock formation. "I was so thirsty I just flattened myself out on the sand and filled up," laughed Ruth, sighing with repletion. Every one, the Captain included, drank freely of the warm water, and Julie made a remark that it tasted brackish for such an active spring. "Maybe that is due to the sand and sun," ventured Joan. "While we are here, let's give the horses a good drink," suggested Anne. "That's a good idea. Then they will be fresh for the trip across the sand," added Mrs. Vernon, starting back to get her horse and lead him to the spring. But the horses refused to drink. They seemed thirsty enough, but every one of them backed away when the girls tried to make them bend their heads and drink. "Why, isn't that funny? Did you ever see them act like this before?" asked Julie. Just then Tally's voice was heard calling for them, and the scouts jumped back into the saddles and rode forward. When they explained about the animals refusing the water, Tally looked serious. "Show me drink!" commanded he, hurrying his horse over to the spring where the girls had drank. One taste of the water and he made a wry face. "You say you tak him?" asked the guide anxiously. "Yes, lots of it," replied Ruth. "Him mos' bad as dem bad land. Dat alkali water." "What do you mean, Tally?" anxiously asked several girls. "Him mak mucha ache here," explained Tally, placing his hands over his stomach and bending low with an agonized expression. But the damage was done and so the scouts had to make the best of the case. Consequently, it was not long before Ruth was tied into knots and hardly able to sit in the saddle. The others, according to the quantity they had taken, were griped also. This did not add anything to the pleasure of the ride across the hot dry sand. But as long as they had essayed to cross that day, they kept on going slowly, hoping that with each cramp the scouts would begin to recover from the effects of the water. Tally and his friend had been so certain that they would reach the other side of the desert before dark, that no one felt the slightest apprehension on that score. But the slowness with which the scouts had to travel made it dubious whether the riders would gain the other side before night. Here and there, scattered over the desert sand, were queer craggy formations of lava, as if some volcanic eruption had thrown the heaps of burnt-out lava broadcast, to rest for ages upon the sea of waste. There was a constant wind blowing across the desert, that carried the tiniest particles of sand with it, and these cut into faces and uncovered parts of the flesh of horses and riders. This stinging sand added no little to the misery of the suffering scouts. The men and two guides felt very sorry for their companions, yet they had to keep on riding because it was necessary that they reach safety and shelter for that night. Thinking to divert their thoughts from their pain, Mr. Gilroy called attention to an unusually large crag of lava that stood up like a peak from the undulating sea of sand around it. "Suppose you take a snapshot of that queer formation," suggested Mr. Vernon, eager to abet his friend's plan. "You take it, Uncle--We have no need of pictures any more. This promises to be our last day on earth," moaned Julie, her face drawn in pain. They were quite near to the crag when Tally leaned forward in his saddle and held a hand to his ear in the attitude of one listening intently. Then he jumped from the horse and placed his ear flat down on the sand. "What is it, Tally?" asked Mr. Gilroy, anxiously. "Him blowin' bad! Can Messer Gilloy see much wind thoo glass?" questioned the guide, hastily, pointing off to the left. Mr. Gilroy adjusted the glasses and gazed in the direction Tally pointed. Even the suffering scouts watched his face with more anxiety than they had given to the cramps. "I fear we are in for a sandstorm, girls. We must make for that friendly crag and cower behind its out-thrusts until the worst is over," quickly advised Mr. Gilroy, as soon as he had satisfied himself that that was what the approaching cloud meant. The two Indians urged their horses forward, and soon all were crouching down behind the meagre shelter offered by the ragged lava points. The horses were so placed that their bodies formed a screen for the riders, and the blankets and packs were arranged on the exposed sides of the animals to protect their skins from the stinging sand. The sound of the wind as the storm rushed towards them, was awesome, but when the full fury of the simoon came, the sand was drifted quickly all about the horses and refugees. The wind fairly shrieked, as it tried to tear away the blankets and start a stampede of the horses, but the Indians were able to calm the poor animals' fear. The windstorm blew over as suddenly as it came, and the moment the going was safe, Tally led the horses from their drifts of sand and saddled them again. The riders crawled out, also, and shook themselves free of the clinging sand, then got back in their saddles, ready to ride onward. The guides had not gone far, however, before they realized that the sandstorm had played greater havoc with the faint trail than with the riders. Such was the menace they now had to face: Night coming on apace, the scouts with cramps from alkali water, horses thirsty and sore from the beating of the simoon, and still an endless waste to cross, and no pathway to guide them. "Oh, why did we ever come this way?" wailed Mrs. Vernon. "We mos' over him," soothed Tally. "Why, we've been riding for hours, and still there is nothing but sand to be seen," complained Julie. "All same, us fin' end pooty soon," returned Omney. They rode on without much conversation after that, as no one felt cheerful enough to talk. The sun had set beyond the rolling sea of sand, and yet no welcome sight of trees or dwellings could be seen before them. Nothing but sand, sand, sand! After the sun had completely disappeared, a chill crept into the air and in ten minutes time every one was shivering with cold. Tally spoke in undertones to Mr. Gilroy, and he in turn said to his companions, "Let every one get the guide-rope out and tie it to the saddle in front of you." "Why," called Joan. "Anything left in Pandora's box for us poor creatures?" asked Julie sorrowfully. "Tally thinks one of us might stray, if the darkness overtakes us as suddenly as it falls on these deserts sometimes," said Mr. Gilroy. Before every one was hitched securely to the horse in front, so that a long line of riders traveled in file, a soughing wind could be heard coming from the north. "Now, what can that be? More trouble?" demanded Mrs. Vernon. "We hope not, but Tally says that quite often, after a hot sandstorm, it returns with sleet and hail; so we'd better be ready in case this chill portends such a comeback," explained Mr. Gilroy. "What a fate! To drink poison, then fight a simoon, and at last to die in a desert blizzard!" cried Julie frantically trying to sit upright and defy the fates. "Such is Rocky Mountain weather," Mr. Gilroy laughed gaily, as if he must inspire his friends with his bravado. The oncoming blizzard had darkened the sky even before its time, but Tally kept bravely on, encouraging the horses with _coos_ and Indian words, until even the riders felt the spirit he manifested and felt braver to face what was impending. Just before the sleet began to drive into their faces enough to blind them and shut out everything not two feet ahead, Mr. Gilroy shouted out cheerfully, "Ha! I see a light twinkling out ahead! We've reached a house, anyway!" "Where? where?" asked a chorus of voices. Then most of them discerned the faint little beacon, and urged their weary horses to renewed effort, and the animals seemed to understand that their work was almost done for that day, and actually moved faster. But the blizzard struck before they could reach the refuge, coating everything with ice and cutting deep into tender hands and faces. The horses were soon stiff with the cold, and it took all of the riders' energy, even so close to a promising haven, to keep the beasts moving. Finally Tally shouted wildly, "Light ahead! Light here!" And at the same time his horse stumbled down a steep grade into a rushing little brook. Omney saw the danger before his horse reached the bank, and warned all the others behind him. They crossed the water safely, and after scrambling up the steep bank on the other side, they found themselves in a barnyard. They made such a noise at this discovery, that a man hurried from one of the low, long buildings with a lantern. "Oh, welcome sight!" sighed Mrs. Vernon, ready to faint with joy and relief. During a momentary lull in the wind and sleet, they all rode up to the long, low ranch house, and shouted to the owners to help them. Soon every one was thawing before a roaring fire; and the poor horses were in the stable, enjoying food and rest. CHAPTER FIFTEEN BACK-TRAILING TO DENVER The ill effects of the alkali water passed off in a few hours, and the scouts felt able to continue the ride in the morning. The sun was shining so brightly that no one would have dared say there had been a fearful storm the night before. As they all sat about the rough table for breakfast, the host explained to Mr. Gilroy how the guides missed the right trail on the mountains, and he sketched for them a rude map to help them find the point where the Medicine Bow Mountains and Frontal Range met in the Continental Divide. When the horses were brought to the door, and all were ready to start on the ride again, Mr. Vernon insisted upon the good mountain rancher taking a gift for his hospitality, although the latter demurred for sometime before he was prevailed upon to take the recompense. That day Tally led his party along the well-defined trail he had missed the day before, and by sundown they were nearing the wonderful altitude and mountaintops of the Frontal Range. At night they camped in one of the wildest spots of the mountains, where the extensive view was as imposing as any to be found in Colorado. Tally had, with true Indian instinct, found a small lake of purest cold water, where they could pitch camp. A wild animal trail circuited this lake, and while the guides prepared the supper, the Captain suggested a ride around the sheet of clear water. The scene was splendidly wild, and isolation hung like a curtain over everything down below in the valley, that was seen through the forest trees whenever the scouts climbed a prominence. Mystic sounds chirruped at them as they rode slowly along the narrow path, lending enchantment to the beauty of the place. The fast-fading rays of purple and rose that sped in the wake of the setting sun, cast ever-changing gleams of color across the placid lake. As the twilight advanced, the silence of the forest was felt, and only now and then came a wildwood sound to startle the scouts. As they followed the trail that skirted the lake, they came to a rippling stream that had to be forded. Just as Julie, always in advance, guided her horse down the steep bank, a crackling of dry twigs on the other side caused the horse to stop suddenly. "O girls! Look! Look!" whispered Julie, tensely. There stood a fawn as if cut from stone, with ears erect and nose sniffing at the strange creatures seen so near at hand. Even as the scouts gazed admiringly, the graceful thing flaunted its short tail and, with the stamping of a hoof to protest against this interruption of her drink, disappeared, without a sound of its going. They crossed the stream and were keeping on the trail that ran along the shore, when from overhead, a loon shrilled a warning to its mate across the lake that there was a strange horde of life passing under her tree! But the male loon sent back his wild laughter at such unbased fears of his wife's. All these incidents impressed the scouts with a sense of their being one with the wild creatures, and they regretted the fact that they were nearing camp again. At the point where Tally had made the night camp, the reeds and grasses hugged the shore of the lake, and now a faint mist upcurled from the water like a transparent veil. Gradually this veil spread inland and quietly enveloped all things on shore. The bright fire dispelled the mist about the camp, and as the hungry scouts sniffed the odors of a good supper, the beauties of Nature were temporarily forgotten. While the scouts were adventuring around the lake, Mr. Gilroy and Mr. Vernon had cut hemlock bows for bedding, so that all was ready for the night before supper was served. After enjoying Tally's cooking to the utmost, the scouts sat down to listen to the various wild adventures of Omney and Talley. But one after another, they dozed before long, and Mr. Gilroy suggested they all retire for the night. Talley knew not how long he had been sleeping when he was unaccountably aroused as if by a strange noise in camp. He sat up and listened, but all seemed quiet, so he soon was dozing again. The snapping of a twig, some distance away, however, made him open his eyes drowsily and wonder sleepily if the horses were securely hobbled. He was too tired to keep awake long enough to get up and go in search of the animals. The thought of it, however, before he fell sound asleep caused him to dream fitfully all night. He awoke very early and got up to reassure himself that all was well in camp. He could see no sign of any horse or mule, so he shook Omney, and the two ran in search of the strayed animals. When the rest of the touring party woke up to find the sun shining into their eyes, no sign of guides or horses was seen. Mr. Gilroy began to prepare breakfast, and Mr. Vernon was sent to fish. The girls were each detailed on some work, and by the time the meal was ready, sounds of hoofs were heard along the trail. "Dat Jolt, he makka all horse go way down trail. Omney an' me fin' dem miles down," explained Tally, with a vindictive look at the mule. As if he fully understood the Indian, Jolt sent back an answering gleam from his wicked eyes and kicked up his hind legs in derision. Mr. Vernon had caught more than enough fish in the overstocked lake, and when the fried mush, bacon, and fresh fish, bread, and fragrant coffee were served, the appetites displayed were such as would drive a New York boarding-house keeper distracted. That day the scouts rode in forests where stately aromatic pines sheltered countless wild creatures, that peered from their cloistered haunts with wonderment at the strangers. Birds of every description sang from low-swinging branches, and lesser notes from unseen insects in the bushes and grass added music to this orchestra that rendered the grandest symphony ever heard. That evening while seated about the camp supper, Julie said, "There's one animal I've wanted to see in his natural haunts in the Rockies, and not one have we been able to glimpse." "What's that?" asked Mr. Gilroy. "The famous American buffalo of the plains," returned she. "Ah, it is the Captain's fault that you girls were not able to see the bison at home," retorted Mr. Gilroy. "Had she consented to your going with me to Yellowstone Park, you could have watched the animals grazing and wandering over their own fields." "Well, the buffalo will still be there next year, but the scouts cannot lose a month of school this fall just to go and watch the animals in Wyoming," said Mrs. Vernon. "Of course, your word is law to us all, but it does seem a pity, as I said before, that being so near the geysers, we should not take advantage of it," remarked Mr. Gilroy. The scouts expressed in their faces that they thought on this matter exactly as Mr. Gilroy did, but the Captain said, "If you continue to preach your mutinous ideas to my girls, I'll leave you out of my plans next summer when we take a trip." "Wough! That threat will keep me quiet for all time!" laughed Mr. Gilroy, clapping a hand over his mouth to show his instant obedience. Every one laughed, but Tally now joined the circle and asked for orders for the next day's ride. After talking over various trails and plans, they got up and prepared to retire for the night. "Did any one hang up the saddles to-night?" asked Mr. Vernon, before he turned in to sleep. "Tally, did you look after the leather?" asked Mr. Gilroy. Tally turned to Omney, "Did him fix harness?" "Me do it, all light," returned Omney, then he shuffled out of the circle of light cast by the fire and they heard him fumbling with heavy saddles and other trappings. The glorious break of day in the mountains awoke every one, and soon the breakfast was under way. While the guides cooked, Mr. Vernon went for the horses. Mr. Gilroy decided to save time by taking down the harness from the trees where it was usually hung. "Great Scout!" called he, summoning the Indians to the spot. "What's the matter?" asked the scouts, anxiously running after the two guides. "A rascally porcupine has been at our leather last night!" declared Mr. Gilroy, angrily showing the ravages made on the harnesses. Tally glared at Omney, "Why for you do dat? Don' you know dem bad rats eat all up?" Omney said nothing, but looked very penitent. Mr. Gilroy sighed as he began an inventory of the damage. "Two sets of reins chawed to pieces; a throat latchet gone; three saddles with holes eaten through them, and two bridles cut to bits, all because of a little carelessness!" "I fixa dem allight!" exclaimed Omney, eagerly. "But that means a morning lost while you make repairs," replied Mrs. Vernon. Then Omney stiffened his spine and lifted his head in a majestic fury at the porcupines. He glowered down the trail and shook his clenched fist vengefully at the imaginary depredator, saying in hissing voice, "Him one bad darn beas'!" Every one laughed at his suppressed fury, and the tame exclamation he had just used, but the poor guide felt better again. The harnesses were finally mended with rope and bits of wire from Tally's outfit kit, and by noon everything was in readiness for continuing the trip. Toward the end of August, the tourists reached Estes Park again, and upon riding to Long's peak village, they replaced the mended harness with good sections, and then rode on to Loveland, where they proposed leaving the horses they had leased for the summer. While Mr. Gilroy and Tally led the horses back to their owner, the Captain took the girls to the department store and soon they were busy trying on readymade dresses that they might start for Denver. Mrs. Vernon had strenuously vetoed their appearing in civilization again in the patched and faded scout uniforms that had stood such rough usage while camping in the mountains. But the uniforms were carefully packed to take back home as souvenirs of that eventful summer. When shop-made shoes were tried on the feet that had been free all summer from city footgear, and the scouts tried to walk on the stone pavements of Loveland, they winced with the pain of their toes in cramped quarters. "Goodness, girls! Isn't it awful to have had such freedom all summer and then return to prison cells again for feet and body?" cried Julie, frowning. "Yes, and it will be the same when we go to bed to-night, no more forest vastness for a chamber, no more pine for a roof, and no more singing of wild notes to lull us to sleep!" sighed Joan. That evening Mr. Gilroy condoled with the scouts over the immediate future--school, orthodox clothing, and bandbox rooms to live in all winter. "But there is always the hope of heaven before you," said Mr. Vernon, smiling at the circle of faces. "What do you mean?" asked Julie. "There is next summer again, you know, and if Gilroy is as good as his word, he will see that you are escorted to Arizona and New Mexico for a trip!" "Remind me of it next spring, girls, and we'll see," laughed Mr. Gilroy, winking an eye at the Captain. So with this ray of hope for a future outing, the girls were encouraged to start back East, and take up the irksome tasks of acquiring a necessary education in the humdrum daily lessons of school. For children 5 to 9 years of age FOUR LITTLE BLOSSOMS SERIES By MABEL C. HAWLEY 12mo, cloth, large type, 160 pages, four colored illustrations Four Little Blossoms at Brookside Farm Mother called them her Four Little Blossoms but Daddy Blossom called them Bobby, Meg and the twins. The twins, Twaddles and Dot, were a comical pair and always getting into mischief. The children had heaps of fun around the big farm, and had several real adventures in the bargain. Four Little Blossoms at Oak Hill School In the Fall Bobby and Meg had to go to school. It was good fun for Miss Mason was a kind teacher. Then the twins insisted on going to school too, and their appearance quite upset the class. And in school something very odd happened and all the boys and girls wondered what it meant. Four Little Blossoms and Their Winter Fun Winter came and with it lots of ice and snow, and oh! what fun the Blossoms had skating and sledding. And once Bobby and Meg went on an errand and got lost in a sudden snowstorm. And once Twaddles slipped through a hole in the ice, but the others went quickly to the rescue. GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY, Publishers, New York THE "DO SOMETHING" SERIES By HELEN BEECHER LONG 12mo, cloth, illustrated, and colored jacket A series of books for girls which have been uniformly successful. Janice Day, the "Do Something" girl, is a character that will live long in juvenile fiction. Every volume is full of inspiration. There are an abundance of humor, quaint situations, and worthwhile effort, and likewise plenty of plot and mystery. An ideal series for girls from nine to sixteen. JANICE DAY, THE YOUNG HOMEMAKER. Janice Day at Poketown. The Testing of Janice Day. How Janice Day Won. The Mission of Janice Day. GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY, Publishers, New York THE NAN SHERWOOD SERIES By ANNIE ROE CARR 12mo, cloth, illustrated, and colored jacket In Annie Roe Carr we have found a young woman of wide experience among girls--in school-room, in camp and while traveling. She knows girls of to-day thoroughly--their likes and dislikes--and knows that they demand almost as much action as do the boys. And she knows humor--good, clean fun and plenty of it. Nan Sherwood at Pine Camp, or The Old Lumberman's Secret. Nan Sherwood at Lake View Hall, or The Mystery of the Haunted Boathouse. Nan Sherwood's Winter Holidays, or Rescuing the Runaways. Nan Sherwood at Rose Ranch, or The Old Mexican's Treasure. Nan Sherwood at Palm Beach, or Strange Adventures Among the Orange Groves. GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY, Publishers, New York "These books should interest every girl who loves the open."--Chicago Evening Post. THE LUCILE SERIES By ELIZABETH M. DUFFIELD 12mo, cloth, illustrated, and colored jacket Lucile, The Torch Bearer. Lucile Triumphant. Lucile, Bringer of Joy. Lucile on the Heights. "Out of door" stories for girls, of vital interest and compelling charm. The wholesome spirit and beautiful aims of the "Campfire Girls" have never been more attractively described, and the fun and merriment of the outings will prove fascinating to every live girl. The heroine, Lucile, is a most spirited and striking character and one will not wonder at the almost adoring affection in which she is held by her companions. GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY, Publishers, New York About this book: Original publication data: Publisher: George Sully & Company, New York Copyright: 1921, by George Sully & Company Series: part of the _Girl Scouts Mountain Series_ 
28490	----	SCOUTING for GIRLS [Illustration] THIS BOOK BELONGS TO ___________________________________________________________ MEMBER OF _____________________________________________________ Troop MY SCOUT RECORD Registration Date and Place _______________________________ Passed Tenderfoot Test ____________________________________ Passed Second Class Test __________________________________ Passed ____________________________________________________ SCOUTING _for_ GIRLS [Illustration] [Illustration: MAGDELAINE DE VERCHÈRES The First Girl Scout in the New World. From Statue erected by Lord Grey, near the site of Fort Verchères on the St. Lawrence.] SCOUTING _for_ GIRLS _OFFICIAL HANDBOOK_ OF THE GIRL SCOUTS [Illustration] SIXTH REPRINT 1925 PUBLISHED BY THE GIRL SCOUTS, INC. NATIONAL HEADQUARTERS 670 LEXINGTON AVENUE, NEW YORK, N.Y. _Copyright 1920 by Girl Scouts, Inc._ _All Rights Reserved._ PRINTED IN NEW YORK CITY _To_ JULIETTE LOW THEIR FOUNDER in grateful acknowledgment of all that she has done for them, the American Girl Scouts dedicate this Handbook FOREWORD _How Scouting Began_ _"How did Scouting come to be used by girls?" That is what I have been asked. Well, it was this way. In the beginning I had used Scouting--that is, wood craft, handiness, and cheery helpfulness--as a means for training young soldiers when they first joined the army, to help them become handy, capable men and able to hold their own with anyone instead of being mere drilled machines._ _You have read about the Wars in your country against the Red Indians, of the gallantry of your soldiers against the cunning of the Red Man, and what is more, of the pluck of your women on those dangerous frontiers._ _Well, we have had much the same sort of thing in South Africa. Over and over again I have seen there the wonderful bravery and resourcefulness of the women when the tribes of Zulu or Matabeles have been out on the war path against the white settlers._ _In the Boer war a number of women volunteered to help my forces as nurses or otherwise; they were full of pluck and energy, but unfortunately they had never been trained to do anything, and so with all the good-will in the world they were of no use. I could not help feeling how splendid it would be if one could only train them in peace time in the same way one trained the young soldiers--that is, through Scoutcraft._ _I afterwards took to training boys in that way, but I had not been long at it before the girls came along, and offered to do the very thing I had hoped for, they wanted to take up Scouting also._ _They did not merely want to be imitators of the boys; they wanted a line of their own._ _So I gave them a smart blue uniform and the names of "Guides" and my sister wrote an outline of the scheme. The name Guide appealed to the British girls because the pick of our frontier forces in India is the Corps of Guides. The term cavalry or infantry hardly describes it since it is composed of all-round handy men ready to take on any job in the campaigning line and do it well._ _Then too, a woman who can be a good and helpful comrade to her brother or husband or son along the path of life is really a guide to him._ _The name Guide therefore just describes the members of our sisterhood who besides being handy and ready for any kind of duty are also a jolly happy family and likely to be good, cheery comrades to their mankind._ _The coming of the Great War gave the Girl Guides their opportunity, and they quickly showed the value of their training by undertaking a variety of duties which made them valuable to their country in her time of need._ _My wife, Lady Baden-Powell, was elected by the members to be the Chief Guide, and under her the movement has gone ahead at an amazing pace, spreading to most foreign countries._ _It is thanks to Mrs. Juliette Low, of Savannah, that the movement was successfully started in America, and though the name Girl Scouts has there been used it is all part of the same sisterhood, working to the same ends and living up to the same Laws and Promise._ _If all the branches continue to work together and become better acquainted with each other as they continue to become bigger it will mean not only a grand step for the sisterhood, but what is more important it will be a real help toward making the new League of Nations a living force._ _How can that be? In this way:_ _If the women of the different nations are to a large extent members of the same society and therefore in close touch and sympathy with each other, although belonging to different countries, they will make the League a real bond not merely between the Governments, but between the Peoples themselves and they will see to it that it means Peace and that we have no more of War._ _Robert Baden Powell._ _May, 1919_ PREFACE The present edition of "Scouting for Girls" is the result of collaboration on the part of practical workers in the organization from every part of the country. The endeavor on the part of its compilers has been to combine the minimum of standardization necessary for dignified and efficient procedure, with the maximum of freedom for every local branch in its interpretation and practice of the Girl Scout aims and principles. Grateful acknowledgments are due to the following: Miss Sarah Louise Arnold, Dean, and Miss Ula M. Dow, A.M., and Dr. Alice Blood, of Simmons College for the Part of Section XI entitled "Home Economics"; Sir Robert Baden-Powell for frequent references and excerpts from "Girl Guiding"; Dr. Samuel Lambert for the Part on First Aid, Section XI, and Dr. W. H. Rockwell for reading and criticizing this; Miss Marie Johnson with the assistance of Miss Isabel Stewart of Teachers College, for the Part entitled "Home Nursing" in Section XI; Dr. Herman M. Biggs for reading and criticizing the Parts dealing with Public Health and Child Care; Mr. Ernest Thompson Seton and The Woodcraft League, and Doubleday, Page & Co. for Section XIII and plates on "Woodcraft"; Mr. Joseph Parsons, Mr. James Wilder, Mrs. Eloise Roorbach, and Mr. Horace Kephart and the Macmillan Company for the material in Section XIV "Camping for Girl Scouts"; Mr. George H. Sherwood, Curator, and Dr. G. Clyde Fisher, Associate Curator, of the Department of Public Education of the American Museum of Natural History for the specially prepared Section XV and illustrations on "Nature Study," and for all proficiency tests in this subject; Mr. David Hunter for Section XVI "The Girl Scout's Own Garden," and Mrs. Ellen Shipman for the part on a perennial border with the specially prepared drawing, in the Section on the Garden; Mr. Sereno Stetson for material in Section XVII "Measurements, Map Making and Knots"; Mr. Austin Strong for pictures of knots; Mrs. Raymond Brown for the test for Citizen; Miss Edith L. Nichols, Supervisor of Drawing in the New York Public Schools, for the test on Craftsman; Mr. John Grolle of the Settlement Music School, Philadelphia, for assistance in the Music test; Miss Eckhart for help in the Farmer test; The Camera Club and the Eastman Kodak Company for the test for Photographer; Mrs. Frances Hunter Elwyn of the New York School of Fine and Applied Arts, for devising and drawing certain of the designs for Proficiency Badges and the plates for Signalling; Miss L. S. Power, Miss Mary Davis and Miss Mabel Williams of the New York Public Library, for assistance in the preparation of reference reading for Proficiency Tests, and general reading for Girl Scouts. It is evident that only a profound conviction of the high aims of the Girl Scout movement and the practical capacity of the organization for realizing them could have induced so many distinguished persons to give so generously of their time and talent to this Handbook. The National Executive Board, under whose auspices it has been compiled, appreciate this and the kindred courtesy of the various organizations of similar interests, most deeply. We feel that such hearty and friendly cooperation on the part of the community at large is the greatest proof of the vitality and real worth of this and allied movements, based on intelligent study of the young people of our country. JOSEPHINE DASKAM BACON, _Chairman of Publications._ _March 1, 1920._ CONTENTS Foreword by Sir Robert Baden-Powell. Preface by Josephine Daskam Bacon, _Editor_. SECTION: I. HISTORY OF THE GIRL SCOUTS 1 II. PRINCIPLES OF THE GIRL SCOUTS 3 III. ORGANIZATION OF THE GIRL SCOUTS 13 IV. WHO ARE THE SCOUTS? 17 V. THE OUT OF DOOR SCOUT 35 VI. FORMS FOR GIRL SCOUT CEREMONIES 44 VII. GIRL SCOUT CLASS REQUIREMENTS 60 VIII. WHAT A GIRL SCOUT SHOULD KNOW ABOUT THE FLAG 67 IX. GIRL SCOUT DRILL 84 X. SIGNALLING FOR GIRL SCOUTS 97 XI. THE SCOUT AIDE 105 Part 1. The Home Maker 106 Part 2. The Child Nurse 157 Part 3. The First Aide 164 Part 4. The Home Nurse 217 Part 5. The Health Guardian 254 Part 6. The Health Winner 257 XII. SETTING-UP EXERCISES 273 XIII. WOODCRAFT 280 XIV. CAMPING FOR GIRL SCOUTS 313 XV. NATURE STUDY FOR GIRL SCOUTS 373 XVI. THE GIRL SCOUTS' OWN GARDEN 456 XVII. MEASUREMENTS, MAP-MAKING AND KNOTS 466 XVIII. PROFICIENCY TESTS AND SPECIAL MEDALS 497 XIX. REFERENCE READING FOR GIRL SCOUTS 540 INDEX 548 GIRL SCOUTS Motto--"Be Prepared" Slogan--"Do a Good Turn Daily" [Illustration: SYMBOL TREFOIL: TO INDICATE THREEFOLD PROMISE] PROMISE On My Honor, I will Try: To do my duty to God and my Country. To help other people at all times. To obey the Scout Laws. LAWS I A Girl Scout's Honor is to be Trusted II A Girl Scout is Loyal III A Girl Scout's Duty is to be Useful and to Help Others IV A Girl Scout is a Friend to All and a Sister to every other Girl Scout V A Girl Scout is Courteous VI A Girl Scout is a Friend to Animals VII A Girl Scout obeys Orders VIII A Girl Scout is Cheerful IX A Girl Scout is Thrifty X A Girl Scout is Clean in Thought, Word and Deed SECTION I HISTORY OF THE AMERICAN GIRL SCOUTS When Sir Robert Baden-Powell founded the Boy Scout movement in England, it proved too attractive and too well adapted to youth to make it possible to limit its great opportunities to boys alone. The sister organization, known in England as the Girl Guides, quickly followed and won an equal success. Mrs. Juliette Low, an American visitor in England, and a personal friend of the Father of Scouting, realized the tremendous future of the movement for her own country, and with the active and friendly co-operation of the Baden-Powells, she founded the Girl Guides in America, enrolling the first patrols in Savannah, Georgia, in March 1912. In 1915 National Headquarters were established in Washington, D. C., and the name was changed to Girl Scouts. In 1916 National Headquarters were moved to New York and the methods and standards of what was plainly to be a nation-wide organization became established on a broad, practical basis. The first National Convention was held in 1915, and each succeeding year has shown a larger and more enthusiastic body of delegates and a public more and more interested in this steadily growing army of girls and young women who are learning in the happiest way how to combine patriotism, outdoor activities of every kind, skill in every branch of domestic science and high standards of community service. Every side of the girl's nature is brought out and developed by enthusiastic Captains, who direct their games and various forms of training, and encourage team-work and fair play. For the instruction of the Captains national camps and training schools are being established all over the country; and schools and churches everywhere are cooperating eagerly with this great recreational movement, which, they realize, adds something to the life of the growing girl that they have not been able to supply. Colleges are offering training in scouting as a serious course for prospective officers, and prominent citizens in every part of the country are identifying themselves with the Local Councils, in an advisory and helpful capacity. At the present writing nearly 107,000 girls and more than 8,000 Officers represent the original little troop in Savannah--surely a satisfying sight for our Founder and First President, when she realizes what a healthy sprig she has transplanted from the Mother Country! SECTION II PRINCIPLES OF THE GIRL SCOUTS The Motto: =Be Prepared= A Girl Scout learns to swim, not only as an athletic accomplishment, but so that she can save life. She passes her simple tests in child care and home nursing and household efficiency in order to be ready for the big duties when they come. She learns the important facts about her body, so as to keep it the fine machine it was meant to be. And she makes a special point of woodcraft and camp lore, not only for the fun and satisfaction they bring, in themselves, but because they are the best emergency course we have today. A Girl Scout who has passed her First Class test is as ready to help herself, her home and her Country as any girl of her age should be expected to prove. The Slogan: ="Do a Good Turn Daily"= This simple recipe for making a very little girl perform every day some slight act of kindness for somebody else is the _seed_ from which grows the larger _plant_ of helping the world along--the steady attitude of the older Scout. And this grows later into the great tree of organized, practical community service for the grown Scout--the ideal of every American woman today. The Pledge: ="I pledge allegiance to my flag, and to the Republic for which it stands; one nation indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."= This pledge, though not original with the Girl Scouts, expresses in every phrase their principles and practice. Practical patriotism, in war and peace, is the cornerstone of the organization. A Girl Scout not only knows how to make her flag, and how to fly it; she knows how to respect it and is taught how to spread its great lesson of democracy. Many races, many religions, many classes of society have tested the Girl Scout plan and found that it has something fascinating and helpful in it for every type of young girl. This broad democracy is American in every sense of the word; and the Patrol System, which is the keynote of the organization, by which eight girls of about the same age and interests elect their Patrol Leader and practice local self-government in every meeting, carries out American ideals in practical detail. The Promise: =On My Honor I will try:= To do my duty to God and my country. To help other people at all times. To obey the Scout Laws. This binds the Scouts together as nothing else could do. It is a promise each girl _voluntarily_ makes; it is not a rule of her home nor a command from her school nor a custom of her church. She is not forced to make it--she deliberately chooses to do so. And like all such promises, it means a great deal to her. Experience has shown that she hesitates to break it. THE LAWS OF THE GIRL SCOUTS =I. A Girl Scout's Honor Is To Be Trusted= This means that a Girl Scout's standards of honor are so high and sure that no one would dream of doubting her simple statement of a fact when she says: "This is so, on my honor as a Girl Scout." She is not satisfied, either, with keeping the letter of the law, when she really breaks it in spirit. When she answers you, _she_ means what _you_ mean. Nor does she take pains to do all this only when she is watched, or when somebody stands ready to report on her conduct. This may do for some people, but not for the Scouts. You can go away and leave her by herself at any time; she does not require any guard but her own sense of honor, which is always to be trusted. =II. A Girl Scout Is Loyal= This means that she is true to her Country, to the city or village where she is a citizen, to her family, her church, her school, and to those for whom she may work, or who may work for her. She is bound to believe the best of them and to defend them if they are slandered or threatened. Her belief in them may be the very thing they need most, and they must feel that whoever may fail them, a Girl Scout never will. This does not mean that she thinks her friends and family and school are perfect; far from it. But there is a way of standing up for what is dear to you, even though you admit that it has its faults. And if you insist on what is best in people, behind their backs, they will be more likely to take your criticism kindly, when you make it to their faces. =III. A Girl Scout's Duty Is To Be Useful and to Help Others= This means that if it is a question of being a help to the rest of the world, or a burden on it, a Girl Scout is always to be found among the helpers. The simplest way of saying this, for very young Scouts, is to tell them to do a GOOD TURN to someone every day they live; that is, to be a _giver_ and not a _taker_. Some beginners in Scouting, and many strangers, seem to think that any simple act of courtesy, such as we all owe to one another, counts as a good turn, or that one's mere duty to one's parents is worthy of Scout notice. But a good Scout laughs at this idea, for she knows that these things are expected of all decent people. She wants to give the world every day, for good measure, something over and above what it asks of her. And the more she does, the more she sees to do. This is the spirit that makes the older Scout into a fine, useful, dependable woman, who does so much good in her community that she becomes naturally one of its leading citizens, on whom everyone relies, and of whom everyone is proud. It may end in the saving of a life, or in some great heroic deed for one's country. _But these things are only bigger expressions of the same feeling that makes the smallest Tenderfoot try to do at least one good turn a day._ =IV. A Girl Scout Is a Friend to All, and a Sister to Every Other Girl Scout= This means that she has a feeling of good will to all the world, and is never offish and suspicious nor inclined to distrust other people's motives. A Girl Scout should never bear a grudge, nor keep up a quarrel from pride, but look for the best in everybody, in which case she will undoubtedly find it. Women are said to be inclined to cliques and snobbishness, and the world looks to great organizations like the Girl Scouts to break down their petty barriers of race and class and make our sex a great power for democracy in the days to come. The Girl Scout finds a special comrade in every other Girl Scout, it goes without saying, and knows how to make her feel that she need never be without a friend, or a meal, or a helping hand, as long as there is another Girl Scout in the world. She feels, too, a special responsibility toward the very old, who represent what she may be, some day; toward the little children, who remind her of what she used to be; toward the very poor and the unfortunate, either of which she may be any day. The sick and helpless she has been, as a Scout, especially trained to help, and she is proud of her handiness and knowledge in this way. =V. A Girl Scout Is Courteous= This means that it is not enough for women to be helpful in this world; they must do it pleasantly. The greatest service is received more gratefully if it is rendered graciously. The reason for this is that true courtesy is not an affected mannerism, but a sign of real consideration of the rights of others, a very simple proof that you are anxious to "do as you would be done by." It is society's way of playing fair and giving everybody a chance. In the same way, a gentle voice and manner are very fair proofs of a gentle nature; the quiet, self-controlled person is not only mistress of herself, but in the end, of all the others who cannot control themselves. And just as our great statesman, Benjamin Franklin proved that "honesty is the best policy," so many a successful woman has proved that a pleasant, tactful manner is one of the most valuable assets a girl can possess, and should be practised steadily. At home, at school, in the office and in the world in general, the girl with the courteous manner and pleasant voice rises quickly in popularity and power above other girls of equal talent but less politeness. Girl Scouts lay great stress on this, because, though no girl can make herself beautiful, and no girl can learn to be clever, _any girl can learn to be polite_. =VI. A Girl Scout Is a Friend to Animals= All Girl Scouts take particular care of our dumb friends, the animals, and are always eager to protect them from stupid neglect or hard usage. This often leads to a special interest in their ways and habits, so that a Girl Scout is likely to know more about these little brothers of the human race than an ordinary girl. =VII. A Girl Scout Obeys Orders= This means that you should obey those to whom obedience is due, through thick and thin. If this were not an unbreakable rule, no army could endure for a day. It makes no difference whether you are cleverer, or older, or larger, or richer than the person who may be elected or appointed for the moment to give you orders; once they are given, it is your duty to obey them. And the curious thing about it is that the quicker and better you obey these orders, the more quickly and certainly you will show yourself fitted to give them when your time comes. The girl or woman who cannot obey can never govern. The reason you obey the orders of your Patrol Leader, for instance, in Scout Drill, is not that she is better than you, but because she happens to be your Patrol Leader, and gives her orders as she would obey yours were you in her place. A small well trained army can always conquer and rule a big, undisciplined mob, and the reason for this is simply because the army has been taught to obey and to act in units, while the mob is only a crowd of separate persons, each doing as he thinks best. The soldier obeys by instinct, in a great crisis, only because he has had long practice in obeying when it was a question of unimportant matters. So the army makes a great point of having everything ordered in military drill, carried out with snap and accuracy; and the habit of this, once fixed, may save thousands of lives when the great crisis comes, and turn defeat into victory. A good Scout must obey instantly, just as a good soldier must obey his officer, or a good citizen must obey the law, with no question and no grumbling. If she considers any order unjust or unreasonable, let her make complaint through the proper channels, and she may be sure that if she goes about it properly she will receive attention. _But she must remember to obey first and complain afterward._ =VIII. A Girl Scout Is Cheerful= This means that no matter how courteous or obedient or helpful you try to be, if you are sad or depressed about it nobody will thank you very much for your effort. A laughing face is usually a loved face, and nobody likes to work with a gloomy person. Cheerful music, cheerful plays and cheerful books have always been the world's favorites; and a jolly, good-natured girl will find more friends and more openings in the world than a sulky beauty or a gloomy genius. It has been scientifically proved that if you deliberately _make_ your voice and face cheerful and bright you immediately begin to feel that way; and as cheerfulness is one of the most certain signs of good health, a Scout who appears cheerful is far more likely to keep well than one who lets herself get "down in the mouth." There is so much real, unavoidable suffering and sorrow in the world that nobody has any right to add to them unnecessarily, and "as cheerful as a Girl Scout" ought to become a proverb. =IX. A Girl Scout Is Thrifty= This means that a Girl Scout is a girl who is wise enough to know the value of things and to put them to the best use. The most valuable thing we have in this life is time, and girls are apt to be stupid about getting the most out of it. A Girl Scout may be known by the fact that she is either working, playing or resting. All are necessary and one is just as important as the other. Health is probably a woman's greatest capital, and a Girl Scout looks after it and saves it, and doesn't waste it by poor diet and lack of exercise and fresh air, so that she goes bankrupt before she is thirty. Money is a very useful thing to have, and the Girl Scout decides how much she can afford to save and does it, so as to have it in an emergency. A girl who saves more than she spends may be niggardly; a girl who spends more than she saves may go in debt. A Girl Scout saves, as she spends, on some system. Did you ever stop to think that no matter how much money a man may earn, the women of the family generally have the spending of most of it? And if they have not learned to manage their own money sensibly, how can they expect to manage other people's? If every Girl Scout in America realized that she might make all the difference, some day, between a bankrupt family and a family with a comfortable margin laid aside for a rainy day, she would give a great deal of attention to this Scout law. In every great war all nations have been accustomed to pay the costs of the war from loans; that is, money raised by the savings of the people. Vast sums were raised in our own country during the great war by such small units as Thrift Stamps. If the Girl Scouts could save such wonderful sums as we know they did in war, why can they not keep this up in peace? For one is as much to their Country's credit as the other. [Illustration: SALUTING THE FLAG IN A GIRL SCOUT CAMP] =X. A Girl Scout Is Clean in Thought, Word and Deed= This means that just as she stands for a clean, healthy community and a clean, healthy home, so every Girl Scout knows the deep and vital need for clean and healthy bodies in the mothers of the next generation. This not only means keeping her skin fresh and sweet and her system free from every impurity, but it goes far deeper than this, and requires every Girl Scout to respect her body and mind so much that she forces everyone else to respect them and keep them free from the slightest familiarity or doubtful stain. A good housekeeper cannot endure dust and dirt; a well cared for body cannot endure grime or soil; a pure mind cannot endure doubtful thoughts that cannot be freely aired and ventilated. It is a pretty safe rule for a Girl Scout not to read things nor discuss things nor do things that could not be read nor discussed nor done by a Patrol all together. If you will think about this, you will see that it does not cut out anything that is really necessary, interesting or amusing. Nor does it mean that Scouts _should_ never do anything except in Patrols; that would be ridiculous. But if they find they _could_ not do so, they had better ask themselves why. When there is any doubt about this higher kind of cleanliness Captains and Councillors may always be asked for advice and explanation. SECTION III ORGANIZATION OF THE GIRL SCOUTS Lone Scout The basis of the Girl Scout organization is the individual girl. Any one girl anywhere who wishes to enroll under our simple pledge of loyalty to God and Country, helpfulness to other people and obedience to the Scout Laws, and is unable to attach herself to any local group, is privileged to become a Lone Scout. The National Organization will do its best for her and she is eligible for all Merit Badges which do not depend upon group work. Patrol But the ideal unit and the keystone of the organization is the Patrol, consisting of eight girls who would naturally be associated as friends, neighbors, school fellows or playmates. They are a self selected and, under the regulations and customs of the organization, a self governing little body, who learn, through practical experiment, how to translate into democratic team-play, their recreation, patriotic or community work, camp life and athletics. Definite mastery of the various subjects they select to study is made more interesting by healthy competition and mutual observation. Patrol Leader Each Patrol elects from its members a Patrol Leader, who represents them and is to a certain extent responsible for the discipline and dignity of the Patrol. Corporal The Patrol Leader is assisted by her Corporal, who may be either elected or appointed; and she is subject to re-election at regular intervals, the office is a practical symbol of the democratic basis of our American government and a constant demonstration of it. Troop From one to four of these Patrols constitute a Troop, the administrative unit of the organization. Girl Scouts are registered and chartered by troops, and the Troop meeting is their official gathering. The Troop has the privilege of owning a flag and choosing from a list of flowers, trees, birds, and so forth, its own personal crest and title. Captain The leader is called a Captain. She must be twenty-one or over, and officially accepted by the National Headquarters, from whom she receives the ratification of her appointment and to whom she is responsible. She may be chosen by the girls themselves, suggested by local authorities, or be herself the founder of the Troop. She represents the guiding, friendly spirit of comradely leadership, the responsibility and discretion, the maturer judgment and the definite training which shapes the policy of the organization. Lieutenants She may, in a small troop, and should, in a large one, be assisted by a Lieutenant, who must be eighteen or over, and who must, like herself, be commissioned from National Headquarters; and if desired, by a Second Lieutenant, who must be at least sixteen. Council The work of the Girl Scouts in any community is made many times more effective and stimulating by the cooperation of the Council, a group of interested, public spirited citizens who are willing to stand behind the girls and lend the advantages of their sound judgment, broad point of view, social prestige and financial advice. They are not expected to be responsible for any teaching, training or administrative work; they are simply the organized Friends of the Scouts and form the link between the Scouts and the community. The Council is at its best when it is made up of representatives of the church, school, club and civic interests of the neighborhood, and can be of inestimable value in suggesting and affording means of co-operation with all other organizations, patronizing and advertising Scout entertainments, and so forth. One of its chief duties is that of finding interested and capable judges for the various Merit Badges, and arranging for the suitable conferring of such badges. The Council, or a committee selected from its members, is known for this purpose as the Court of Awards. A Captain who feels that she has such a body behind her can go far with her Troop; and citizens who are particularly interested in constructive work with young people who find endless possibilities in an organized Girl Scout Council. The National Headquarters issues charters to such Councils and cooperates with them in every way. National Organization The central and final governing body is the National Council. This is made up of delegates elected from all local groups throughout the country, and works by representation, indirectly through large State and District sub-divisions, through the National Executive Board which maintains its Headquarters in New York. National Director The National Director is in charge of these Headquarters and directs the administrative work under the general heading of Field, Business, Publication and Education. Policy From the youngest Lone Scout up to the National Director, the organization is democratic, self-governing and flexible, adjusting itself everywhere and always to local circumstances and the habits and preferences of the different groups. It is not only non-sectarian, but is open to all creeds and has the enthusiastic support of all of them. It offers no new system of education, but co-operates with the schools and extends to them a much appreciated recreational plan. It affords the churches a most practical outlet for their ideals for their young people. Its encouragement of the intelligent domestic interests is shown by the stress laid on every aspect of home and social life and by the great variety of Merit Badges offered along these lines. The growing interest in the forming of Girl Scout Troops by schools, churches and parents proves as nothing else could, how naturally and helpfully this simple organization fits in with the three factors of the girl's life; her home, her church, her school. And the rapid and never ceasing growth of the Girl Scouts means that we are able to offer, every year, larger and larger numbers of healthy and efficient young citizens to their country. SECTION IV WHO ARE THE SCOUTS? In the early days of this great country of ours, before telephones and telegrams, railroads and automobiles made communications of all sorts so easy, and help of all kinds so quickly secured, men and women--yes, and boys and girls, too!--had to depend very much on themselves and be very handy and resourceful, if they expected to keep safe and well, and even alive. Our pioneer grandmothers might have been frightened by the sight of one of our big touring cars, for instance, or puzzled as to how to send a telegram, but they knew an immense number of practical things that have been entirely left out of our town-bred lives, and for pluck and resourcefulness in a tight place it is to be doubted if we could equal them today. "_You press a button and we do the rest_" is the slogan of a famous camera firm, and really it seems as if this might almost be called the slogan of modern times; we have only to press a button nowadays, and someone will do the rest. But in those early pioneer days there was no button to press, as we all know, and nobody to "do the rest": everybody had to know a little about everything _and be able to do that little pretty quickly_, as safety and even life might depend upon it. The men who stood for all this kind of thing in the highest degree were probably the old "Scouts," of whom Natty Bumpo, in Cooper's famous old Indian tales is the great example. They were explorers, hunters, campers, builders, fighters, settlers, and in an emergency, nurses and doctors combined. They could cook, they could sew, they could make and sail a canoe, they could support themselves indefinitely in the trackless woods, they knew all the animals and the plants for miles around, they could guide themselves by the sun, and stars, and finally, they were husky and hard as nails and always in the best of health and condition. Their adventurous life, always on the edge of danger and new, unsuspected things, made them as quick as lightning and very clever at reading character and adapting themselves to people. In a way, too, they had to act as rough and ready police (for there were no men in brass buttons in the woods!) and be ready to support the right, and deal out justice, just as our "cow-boys" of later ranch days had to prevent horse-stealing. Now, the tales of their exploits have gone all over the world, and healthy, active people, and especially young people, have always delighted in just this sort of life and character. So, when you add the fact that the word "scout" has always been used, too, to describe the men sent out ahead of an army to gain information in the quickest, cleverest way, it is no wonder that the great organizations of Boy and Girl Scouts which are spreading all over the world today should have chosen the name we are so proud of, to describe the kind of thing they want to stand for. Our British Scout-sisters call themselves "Girl Guides," and here is the thrilling reason for this title given by the Chief Scout and Founder of the whole big band that is spreading round the world today, as so many of Old England's great ideas have spread. WHY "GUIDES"? On the North-West Frontier of India there is a famous Corps of soldiers known as the Guides, and their duty is to be always ready to turn out at any moment to repel raids by the hostile tribes across the Border, and to prevent them from coming down into the peaceful plains of India. This body of men must be prepared for every kind of fighting. Sometimes on foot, sometimes on horseback, sometimes in the mountains, often with pioneer work wading through rivers and making bridges, and so on. But they have to be a skilful lot of men, brave and enduring, ready to turn out at any time, winter or summer, or to sacrifice themselves if necessary in order that peace may reign throughout India while they keep down any hostile raids against it. So they are true handymen in every sense of the word, and true patriots. When people speak of Guides in Europe one naturally thinks of those men who are mountaineers in Switzerland and other mountainous places, who can guide people over the most difficult parts by their own bravery and skill in tackling obstacles, by helpfulness to those with them, and by their bodily strength of wind and limb. They are splendid fellows those guides, and yet if they were told to go across the same amount of miles on an open flat plain it would be nothing to them, it would not be interesting, and they would not be able to display those grand qualities which they show directly the country is a bit broken up into mountains. It is no fun to them to walk by easy paths, the whole excitement of life is facing difficulties and dangers and apparent impossibilities, and in the end getting a chance of attaining the summit of the mountain they have wanted to reach. Well, I think it is the case with most girls nowadays. They do not want to sit down and lead an idle life, not to have everything done for them, nor to have a very easy time. They don't want merely to walk across the plain, they would much rather show themselves handy people, able to help others and ready, if necessary to sacrifice themselves for others just like the Guides on the North-West frontier. And they also want to tackle difficult jobs themselves in their life, to face mountains and difficulties and dangers and to go at them having prepared themselves to be skilful and brave; and also they would like to help other people meet their difficulties also. When they attain success after facing difficulties, then they feel really happy and triumphant. It is a big satisfaction to them to have succeeded and to have made other people succeed also. That is what the Girl Guides want to do, just as the mountaineer guides do among the mountains. Then, too, a woman who can do things is looked up to by others, both men and women, and they are always ready to follow her advice and example, so there she becomes a Guide too. And later on if she has children of her own, or if she becomes a teacher of children, she can be a really good Guide to them. By means of games and activities which the Guides practise they are able to learn the different things which will help them to get on in life, and show the way to others to go on also. Thus camping and signalling, first aid work, camp cooking, and all these things that the Guides practise are all going to be helpful to them afterwards in making them strong, resourceful women, skilful and helpful to others, and strong in body as well as in mind, and what is more it makes them a jolly lot of comrades also. The motto of the Guides on which they work is "Be Prepared," that is, be ready for any kind of duty that may be thrust upon them, and what is more, to know what to do by having practised it beforehand in the case of any kind of accident or any kind of work that they may be asked to take up. MAGDELAINE DE VERCHÈRES "THE FIRST GIRL SCOUT" It is a great piece of luck for us American Scouts that we can claim the very first Girl Scout for our own great continent, if not quite for our own United States. A great Englishman calls her "the first Girl Scout," and every Scout must feel proud to the core of her heart when she thinks that this statue which we have selected for the honor of our frontispiece, standing as it does on British soil, on the American continent, commemorating a French girl, the daughter of our Sister Republic, joins the three great countries closely together, through the Girl Scouts! Magdelaine de Verchères lived in the French colonies around Quebec late in the seventeenth century. The colonies were constantly being attacked by the Iroquois Indians. One of these attacks occurred while Magdelaine's father, the Seigneur, was away. Magdelaine rallied her younger brothers about her and succeeded in holding the fort for eight days, until help arrived from Montreal. The documents relating this bit of history have been in the Archives for many years, but when they were shown to Lord Grey about twelve years ago he decided to erect a monument to Magdelaine de Verchères on the St. Lawrence. It was Lord Grey who called Magdelaine "The First Girl Scout," and as such she will be known. The following is taken from "A Daughter of New France," by Arthur G. Doughty who wrote the book for the Red Cross work of the Magdelaine de Verchères Chapter of the Daughters of the Empire, and dedicated it to Princess Patricia, whose name was given to the famous "Princess Pat" regiment. "On Verchères Point, near the site of the Fort, stands a statue in bronze of the girl who adorned the age in which she lived and whose memory is dear to posterity. For she had learned so to live that her hands were clean and her paths were straight.... To all future visitors to Canada by way of the St. Lawrence, this silent figure of the First Girl Scout in the New World conveys a message of loyalty, of courage and of devotion." Our own early history is sprinkled thickly with brave, handy girls, who were certainly Scouts, if ever there were any, though they never belonged to a patrol, nor recited the Scout Laws. But they lived the Laws, those strong young pioneers, and we can stretch out our hands to them across the long years, and give them the hearty Scout grip of fellowship, when we read of them. THE EXPLORER If we should ever hold an election for honorary membership in the Girl Scouts, open to all the girls who ought to have belonged to us, but who lived too long ago, we should surely nominate for first place one of the most remarkable young Indian girls who ever found her way through the pathless forests,--Sacajawea, "The Bird Woman." In 1806 she was brought to Lewis and Clark on their expedition into the great Northwest, to act as interpreter between them and the various Indian tribes they had to encounter. From the very beginning, when she induced the hostile Shoshones to act as guides, to the end of her daring journey, during which, with her papoose on her back, she led this band of men through hitherto impassable mountain ranges, till she brought them to the Pacific Coast, this sixteen-year-old girl never faltered. No dangers of hunger, thirst, cold or darkness were too much for her. From the Jefferson to the Yellowstone River she was the only guide they had; on her instinct for the right way, her reading of the sun, the stars and the trees, depended the lives of all of them. When they fell sick she nursed them; when they lost heart at the wildness of their venture, she cheered them. Their party grew smaller and smaller, for Lewis and Clark had separated early in the expedition, and a part of Clark's own party fell off when they discovered a natural route over the Continental Divide where wagons could not travel. Later, most of those who remained, decided to go down the Jefferson River in canoes; but Clark still guided by the plucky Indian girl, persisted in fighting his way on pony back overland, and after a week of this journeying, crowded full of discomforts and dangers, she brought him out in triumph at the Yellowstone, where the river bursts out from the lower canon,--and the Great Northwest was opened up for all time! * * * * * The women of Oregon have raised a statue to this young explorer, and there she stands in Portland, facing the Coast, pointing to the Columbia River where it reaches the sea. These great virtues of daring and endurance never die out of the race; though the conditions of our life today, when most of the exploring has been done, do not demand them of us in just the form the "Bird Woman" needed, still, if they die out of the nation, and especially out of the women of the nation, something has been lost that no amount of book education can ever replace. Sacajawea, had no maps to study--she _made_ maps, and roads have been built over her footsteps. And so we Scouts, not to lose this great spirit, study the stars and the sun and the trees and try to learn a few of the wood secrets she knew so well. This out-of-door wisdom and self-reliance was the first great principle of Scouting. THE HOMEMAKER But of course, a country full of "Bird Women" could not be said to have advanced very far in civilization. Though we should take great pleasure in conferring her well-earned merit badges on Sacajawea, we should hardly have grown into the great organization we are today if we had not badges for quite another class of achievements. In 1832, not so many years after the famous Lewis and Clark expedition, there was born a little New England girl who would very early in life have become a First Class Scout if she had had the opportunity. Her name was Louisa Alcott, and she made that name famous all the world over by the book by which the world's girls know her--"Little Women." Her father, though a brilliant man, was a very impractical one, and from her first little story to her last popular book, all her work was done for the purpose of keeping her mother and sisters, in comfort. While she was waiting for the money from her stories she turned carpets, trimmed hats, papered the rooms, made party dresses for her sisters, nursed anyone who was sick (at which she was particularly good)--all the homely, helpful things that neighbors and families did for each other in New England towns. In those days little mothers of families could not telephone specialists to help them out in emergencies; there were neither telephones nor specialists! But there were always emergencies, and the Alcott girls had to know what to put on a black-and-blue spot, and why the jelly failed to "jell," and how to hang a skirt, and bake a cake, and iron a table-cloth. Louisa had to entertain family guests and darn the family stockings. Her home had not every comfort and convenience, even as people counted those things then, and without a brisk, clever woman, full of what the New Englanders called "faculty," her family would have been a very unhappy one. With all our modern inventions nobody has yet invented a substitute for a good, all-round woman in a family, and until somebody can invent one, we must continue to take off our hats to girls like Louisa Alcott. Imagine what her feelings would have been if someone had told her that she had earned half a dozen merit badges by her knowledge of home economics and her clever writing! And let every Scout who finds housework dull, and feels that she is capable of bigger things, remember this: the woman whose books for girls are more widely known than any such books ever written in America, had to drop the pen, often and often, for the needle, the dish-cloth and the broom. To direct her household has always been a woman's job in every century, and girls were learning to do it before Columbus ever discovered Sacajawea's great country. To be sure, they had no such jolly way of working at it together, as the Scouts have, nor did they have the opportunity the girl of today has to learn all about these things in a scientific, business-like way, in order to get it all done with the quickest, most efficient methods, just as any clever business man manages his business. We no longer believe that housekeeping should take up all a woman's time; and many an older woman envies the little badges on a Scout's sleeve that show the world she has learned how to manage her cleaning and cooking and household routine so that she has plenty of time to spend on other things that interest her. THE PIONEER But there was a time in the history of our country when men and women went out into the wilderness with no nearer neighbors than the Indians, yet with all the ideals of the New England they left behind them; girls who had to have all the endurance of the young "Bird Woman" and yet keep up the traditions and the habits of the fine old home life of Louisa Alcott. One of these pioneer girls, who certainly would have been patrol leader of her troop and marched them to victory with her, was Anna Shaw. In 1859, a twelve-year old girl, with her mother and four other children she traveled in a rough cart full of bedding and provisions, into the Michigan woods where they took up a claim, settling down into a log cabin whose only furniture was a fireplace of wood and stones. She and her brothers floored this cabin with lumber from a mill, and actually made partitions, an attic door and windows. They planted potatoes and corn by chopping up the sod, putting seed under it and leaving it to Nature--who rewarded them by giving them the best corn and potatoes Dr. Shaw ever ate, she says in her autobiography. For she became a preacher and a physician, a lecturer and organizer, this sturdy little Scout, even though she had to educate herself, mostly. They papered the cabin walls with the old magazines, after they had read them once, and went all over them, in this fashion, later. So eagerly did she devour the few books sent them from the East, that when she entered college, years later, she passed her examinations on what she remembered of them! They lived on what they raised from the land; the pigs they brought in the wagon with them, fish, caught with wires out of an old hoop skirt, and corn meal brought from the nearest mill, twenty miles away. Ox teams were the only means of getting about. Anna and her brothers made what furniture they used--bunks, tables, stools and a settle. She learned to cut trees and "heart" logs like a man. After a trying season of carrying all the water used in the household from a distant creek, which froze in the winter so that they had to melt the ice, they finally dug a well. First they went as far as they could with spades, then handed buckets of earth to each other, standing on a ledge half-way down; then, when it was deep enough, they lined it with slabs of wood. It was so well made that the family used it for twelve years. Wild beasts prowled around them, Indians terrified them by sudden visits, the climate was rigorous, amusements and leisure scanty. But this brave, handy girl met every job that came to her with a good heart and a smile; she learned by doing. The tests and sports for mastering which we earn badges were life's ordinary problems to her, and very practical ones. She never knew it, but surely she was a real Girl Scout! It is not surprising to learn that she grew up to be one of the women who earned the American girl her right to vote. A pioneer in more ways than one, this little carpenter and farmer and well-digger worked for the cause of woman's political equality as she had worked in the Michigan wilderness, and helped on as much as any one woman, the great revolution in people's ideas which makes it possible for women today to express their wishes directly as to how their country shall be governed. This seems very simple to the girls of today, and will seem even simpler as the years go on, but, like the Yellowstone River, it needed its pioneers! In the Great War through which we have just passed, the Scouts of all countries gave a magnificent account of themselves, and honestly earned the "War Service" badges that will be handed down to future generations, we may be sure, as the proudest possessions of thousands of grandchildren whose grandmothers (think of a Scout grandmother!) were among the first to answer their Country's call. Let us hear what our British sisters accomplished, and we must remember that at the time of the war there were many Girl Guides well over Scout age and in their twenties, who had had the advantage, as their book points out, of years of training. This is what they have done during the Great War. In the towns they have helped at the Military Hospitals. In the country they have collected eggs for the sick, and on the moors have gathered sphagnum moss for the hospitals. Over in France a great Recreation and Rest Hut for the soldiers has been supplied by the Guides with funds earned through their work. It is managed by Guide officers, or ex-Guides. Among the older Guides there are many who have done noble work as assistants to the ward-maids, cooks, and laundry women. In the Government offices, such as the War Office, the Admiralty, and other great departments of the State, they have acted as orderlies and messengers. They have taken up work in factories, or as motor-drivers or on farms, in order to release men to go to the front. At home and in their club-rooms they have made bandages for the wounded, and warm clothing for the men at the Front and in the Fleet. At home in many of the great cities the Guides have turned their Headquarters' Club-Rooms into "Hostels." That is, they have made them into small hospitals ready for taking in people injured in air-raids by the enemy. So altogether the Guides have shown themselves to be a pretty useful lot in many different kinds of work during the war, and, mind you, they are only girls between the ages of 11 and 18. But they have done their bit in the Great War as far as they were able, and have done it well. There are 100,000 of them, and they are very smart, and ready for any job that may be demanded of them. They were not raised for this special work during the war for they began some years before it, but their motto is "Be Prepared," and it was their business to train themselves to be ready for anything that might happen, even the most unlikely thing. So even when war came they were "all there" and ready for it. It is not only in Great Britain that they have been doing this, but all over our great Empire--in Canada and Australia, West, East and South Africa, New Zealand, the Falkland Islands, West Indies, and India. The Guides are a vast sisterhood of girls, ready to do anything they can for their country and Empire. Long before there was any idea of the war the Guides had been taught to think out and to practise what they should do supposing such a thing as war happened in their own country, or that people should get injured by bombs or by accidents in their neighborhood. Thousands of women have done splendid work in this war, but thousands more would have been able to do good work also had they only Been Prepared for it beforehand by learning a few things that are useful to them outside their mere school work or work in their own home. And that is what the Guides are learning in all their games and camp work: they mean to be useful in other ways besides what they are taught in school. WHAT THE GUIDES DO As a Guide your first duty is to be helpful to other people, both in small everyday matters and also under the worst of circumstances. You have to imagine to yourself what sort of things might possibly happen, and how you should deal with them when they occur. Then you will know what to do. I was present when a German aeroplane dropped a bomb on to a railway station in London. There was the usual busy scene of people seeing to their luggage, saying good-bye and going off by train, when with a sudden bang a whole carriage was blown to bits, and the adjoining ones were in a blaze; seven or eight of those active in getting into the train were flung down--mangled and dead; while some thirty more were smashed, broken, and bleeding, but still alive. The suddenness of it made it all the more horrifying. But one of the first people I noticed as keeping her head was a smartly dressed young lady kneeling by an injured working-man; his thigh was smashed and bleeding terribly; she had ripped up his trousers with her knife, and with strips of it had bound a pad to the wound; she found a cup somehow and filled it with water for him from the overhead hose for filling engines. Instead of being hysterical and useless, she was as cool and ready to do the right thing as if she had been in bomb-raids every day of her life. Well, that is what any girl can do if she only prepares herself for it. These are things which have to be learnt in peace-time, and because they were learnt by the Guides beforehand, these girls were able to do their bit so well when war came. FIRST AID. When you see an accident in the street or people injured in an air raid, the sight of the torn limbs, the blood, the broken bones, and the sound of the groans and sobbing all make you feel sick and horrified and anxious to get away from it--if you're not a Girl Guide. But that is cowardice: your business as a Guide is to steel yourself to face it and to help the poor victim. As a matter of fact, after a trial or two you really get to like such jobs, because with coolheadedness and knowledge of what to do you feel you give the much-needed help. _The Value of Nursing._--In this war hundreds and hundreds of women have gone to act as nurses in the hospitals for the wounded and have done splendid work. They will no doubt be thankful all their lives that while they were yet girls they learnt how to nurse and how to do hospital work, so that they were useful when the call came for them. But there are thousands and thousands of others who wanted to do the work when the time came, but they had not like Guides, Been Prepared, and they had never learnt how to nurse, and so they were perfectly useless and their services were not required in the different hospitals. So carry out your motto and Be Prepared and learn all you can about hospital and child nursing, sick nursing, and every kind, while you are yet a Guide and have people ready to instruct you and to help you in learning. In countries not so settled and protected as England and America, where the women and girls are taught to count upon their men to protect them in the field, the Girl Scouts have sometimes had to display a courage like that of the early settlers. A Roumanian Scout, Ecaterina Teodorroiu actually fought in the war and was taken prisoner. She escaped, traced her way back to her company, and brought valuable information as to the enemy's movements. For these services she was decorated "as a reward for devotion and conspicuous bravery" with the Order of Merit and a special gold medal of the Scouts, only given for services during the war. At the same time she was promoted to the rank of Honorary Second Lieutenant. Can we wonder that she is known as the Joan of Arc of Roumania? During the Russian Revolution the Girl Scouts were used by the Government in many practical ways, as may be seen from the following letter from one of them: "The Scouts assisted from the beginning, from seven in the morning until twelve at night, carrying messages, sometimes containing state secrets, letters, etc., from the Duma to the different branches of it called commissariats, and back again. They also fed the soldiers that were on guard. The Scout uniform was our protection, and everywhere that uniform commanded the respect of the soldiers, peasants and workingmen. "As great numbers of soldiers came from the front, food had to be given them. It was contributed by private people, but the Scouts had lots of work distributing it. All the little taverns were turned into eating houses for the soldiers, and there we helped to prepare the food and feed them. As there were not enough Boy Scouts, the Girl Scouts helped in the same way as the boys. "The Scouts also did much First Aid work. In one instance I saw an officer whose finger had been shot off. I ran up to him and bandaged it up for him. (All of us Scouts had First Aid kits hanging from our belts.) "It was something of a proud day for us Scouts when the Premier after a parade, called us all before the Duma and publicly thanked us for our aid." Indeed it was and we heartily congratulate our Sister Scouts! But if we do our duty by our Patrol and the Patrols all do their duty by their Troop, that proud moment is going to come to every single Scout of us, when the town where we live tells us by its smiles and applause, when we go by in uniform, what it thinks of us. We Scouts shall be more and more interested, as the years go on, to remember that in the great hours of one of the world's greatest crises we helped to make its history. Instances like these are very exceptional; they could not occur to one in ten thousand of us; but we stay-at-homes can always remind ourselves that it was the obedience, the quickness, and the skill learned in quiet, every-day Scouting that made these few rise to their opportunity when it came. War and revolution do not make Scouts either brave or useful; they only bring out the bravery and the usefulness that have been learned, as we are all learning them, every day! All we have to do is to fix Scout habits in our hearts and hands, and then when our Country calls us, we shall be as ready as these little Russian Scouts were. In France the Scouts, known as the Eclaireuses, have agreed with us that the "land Army" is the best army for women. Rain or shine, in heat and cold, they have dug and ploughed and planted, and learned the lesson American girls learned long ago--that team work is what counts! A bit of one of their reports is translated here: "The crops were fine--potatoes, radishes, greens and beans were raised. The crop of potatoes, especially, was so good that the Eclaireuses were able to supply their families with them at a price defying competition, and they always had enough besides for their own use on excursions. (Our hikes.) "Such has been the reward of the care, given so perseveringly and intelligently to the gardening. "And what an admirable lesson! Not a minute was lost in this out-of-door work; chests and muscles filled out; and at the same time the girls learned to recognize weather signs; rain or sun were the factors which determined the success or non-success of the planting. And each day, there grew in them also love and gratitude for the earth and its elements, without the assistance of which we could harvest nothing. "Is this not the best method of preparing our youth to return to the land, to the healthy and safe life of the beautiful countryside of France; by showing them the interest and usefulness that lie in agricultural labor? "So the Eclaireuse becomes a model of the new women, used to sport, possessing her First Aid Diploma, able to cook good simple meals, marching under orders, knowing how to obey, ready to accept her responsibility, good-natured and lively in rain or sun, in public or in her home.... They continue their courses in sewing, hygiene and gymnastics and assist eagerly at conferences arranged for them to discuss the duties of the Eclaireuses and what it is necessary to do to become a good Captain. "To make themselves useful--that is the ideal of the Eclaireuses. They know that in order to do this it is becoming more and more necessary to acquire a broad and complete knowledge." It is quite a feather in the cap of this great Scout Family of ours that we are teaching the French girl, who has not been accustomed to leave her home or to work in clubs or troops, what a jolly, wonder-working thing a crowd of girls, all forging ahead together, can be. In our own country we were protected from the worst sides of the great war, but we had a wonderful opportunity to show how we could Be Prepared ourselves by seeing that our brave soldiers were prepared. Our War Records show an immense amount of Red Cross supplies, knitting, comfort kits, food grown and conserved in every way, money raised for Liberty Loans and Thrift Stamps, war orphans adopted, home replacement work undertaken and carried through; all these to so great an amount that the country recognized our existence and services as never before in our history, the Government, indeed, employing sixty uniformed Scouts as messengers in the Surgeon General's Department. Perhaps it is only the truth to say that the war showed our country what we could Be Prepared to do for her! And it showed us, too. It has been said that women can never be the same after the great events of the last few years, and we must never forget that the Girl Scouts of today are the women of tomorrow. [Illustration: FLAG RAISING AT DAWN] SECTION V THE OUT-OF-DOOR SCOUT Busy as the Girl Scout may be with learning to do in a clever, up-to-date way all the things to improve her home and town that the old pioneer girls knew how to do, she never forgets that the original Scouts were out-of-door people. So long as there are bandages to make or babies to bathe or meals to get or clothes to make, she does them all, quickly and cheerfully, and is very rightly proud of the badges she gets for having learned to do them all, and the sense of independence that comes from all this skill with her hands. It gives her a real glow of pleasure to feel that because of her First Aid practice she may be able to save a life some day, and that the hours of study she put in at her home nursing and invalid cooking may make her a valuable asset to the community in case of any great disaster or epidemic; but the real fun of scouting lies in the great life of out-of-doors, and the call of the woods is answered quicker by the Scout than by anybody, because the Scout learns just how to get the most out of all this wild, free life and how to enjoy it with the least trouble and the most fun. One of our most experienced and best loved Captains says that "a camp is as much a necessity for the Girl Scouts as an office headquarters," and more and more girls are learning to agree with her every year. Our British cousins are the greatest lovers of out-of-door life in the world, and it is only natural that we should look to our Chief Scout to hear what he has to say to his Girl Guides on this subject so dear to his heart that he founded Scouting, that all boys and girls might share his enthusiastic pleasure in going back to Nature to study and to love her and to gain happiness and health from her woods and fields. HOW CAMPING TEACHES THE GUIDE LAW Last year a man went out into the woods in America to try and see if he could live like the prehistoric men used to do; that is to say, he took nothing with him in the way of food or equipment or even clothing--he went just as he was, and started out to make his own living as best he could. Of course the first thing he had to do was to make some sort of tool or weapon by which he could kill some animals, cut his wood and make his fire and so on. So he made a stone axe, and with that was able to cut out branches of trees so that he could make a trap in which he eventually caught a bear and killed it. He then cut up the bear and used the skin for blankets and the flesh for food. He also cut sticks and made a little instrument by which he was able to ignite bits of wood and so start his fire. He also searched out various roots and berries and leaves, which he was able to cook and make into good food, and he even went so far as to make charcoal and to cut slips of bark from the trees and draw pictures of the scenery and animals around him. In this way he lived for over a month in the wild, and came out in the end very much better in health and spirits and with a great experience of life. For he had learned to shift entirely for himself and to be independent of the different things we get in civilization to keep us going in comfort. That is why we go into camp a good deal in the Boy Scout and in the Girl Guide movement, because in camp life we learn to do without so many things which while we are in houses we think are necessary, and find that we can do for ourselves many things where we used to think ourselves helpless. And before going into camp it is just as well to learn some of the things that will be most useful to you when you get there. And that is what we teach in the Headquarters of the Girl Guide Companies before they go out and take the field. For instance, you must know how to light your own fire; how to collect dry enough wood to make it burn; because you will not find gas stoves out in the wild. Then you have to learn how to find your own water, and good water that will not make you ill. You have not a whole cooking range or a kitchen full of cooking pots, and so you have to learn to cook your food in the simplest way with the means at your hand, such as a simple cooking pot or a roasting stick or an oven made with your own hands out of an old tin box or something of that kind. NATURE STUDY It is only while in camp that one can really learn to study Nature in the proper way and not as you merely do it inside the school; because here you are face to face with Nature at all hours of the day and night. For the first time you live under the stars and can watch them by the hour and see what they really look like, and realize what an enormous expanse of almost endless space they cover. You know from your lessons at school that our sun warms and lights up a large number of different worlds like ours, all circling round it in the Heavens. And when you hold up a shilling at arm's length and look at the sky, the shilling covers no less than two hundred of those suns, each with their different little worlds circling around them. And you then begin to realize what an enormous endless space the Heavens comprise. You realize perhaps for the first time the enormous work of God. Then also in camp you are living among plants of every kind, and you can study them in their natural state, how they grow and what they look like, instead of merely seeing pictures of them in books or dried specimens of them in collections. All round you, too, are the birds and animals and insects, and the more you know of them the more you begin to like them and to take an interest in them; and once you take an interest in them you do not want to hurt them in any way. You would not rob a bird's nest; you would not bully an animal; you would not kill an insect--once you have realized what its life and habits are. In this way, therefore, you fulfill the Guide Law of becoming a friend to animals. By living in camp you begin to find that though there are many discomforts and difficulties to be got over, they can be got over with a little trouble and especially if you smile at them and tackle them. Then living among other comrades in camp you have to be helpful and do good turns at almost every minute, and you have to exercise a great deal of give and take and good temper, otherwise the camp would become unbearable. So you carry out the different laws of courteousness, of helpfulness, and friendliness to others that come in the Guide Law. Also you pick up the idea of how necessary it is to keep everything in its place, and to keep your kit and tent and ground as clean as possible; otherwise you get into a horrible state of dirt, and dirt brings flies and other inconveniences. You save every particle of food and in this way you learn not only cleanliness, but thrift and economy. And you very soon realize how cheaply you can live in camp, and how very much enjoyment you can get for very little money. And as you live in the fresh, pure air of God you find that your own thoughts are clean and pure as the air around you. There is hardly one of the Guide Laws that is not better carried out after you have been living and practising it in camp. _Habits of Animals._--If you live in the country it is of course quite easy to observe and watch the habits of all sorts of animals great and small. But if you are in a town there are many difficulties to be met with. But at the same time if you can keep pets of any kind, rabbits, rats, mice, dogs or ponies you can observe and watch their habits and learn to understand them well; but generally for Guides it is more easy to watch birds, because you see them both in town and country; and especially when you go into camp or on walking tours you can observe and watch their habits, especially in the springtime. Then it is that you see the old birds making their nests, hatching out their eggs and bringing up their young; and that is of course the most interesting time for watching them. A good observant guide will get to know the different kinds of birds by their cry, by their appearance, and by their way of flying. She will also get to know where their nests are to be found, what sort of nests they are, what are the colors of the eggs and so on. And also how the young appear. Some of them come out fluffy, others covered with feathers, others with very little on at all. The young pigeon, for instance, has no feathers at all, whereas a young moorhen can swim about as soon as it comes out of the egg; while chickens run about and hunt flies within a few minutes; and yet a sparrow is quite useless for some days and is blind, and has to be fed and coddled by his parents. Then it is an interesting sight to see the old birds training their young ones to fly, by getting up above them and flapping their wings a few times until all the young ones imitate them. Then they hop from one twig to another, still flapping their wings, and the young ones follow suit and begin to find that their wings help them to balance; and finally they jump from one branch to another for some distance so that the wings support them in their effort. The young ones very soon find that they are able to use their wings for flying, but it is all done by degrees and by careful instruction. Then a large number of our birds do not live all the year round in England, but they go off to Southern climes such as Africa when the winter comes on; but they generally turn up here at the end of March and make their nest during the spring. Nightingales arrive early in April; wagtails, turtle doves, and cuckoos come late in April; woodcock come in the autumn, and redpoles and fieldfares also come here for the winter. In September you will see the migrating birds collecting to go away, the starlings in their crowds and the swallows for the South, and so do the warblers, the flycatchers, and the swifts. And yet about the same time the larks are arriving here from the Eastward, so there is a good deal of traveling among the birds in the air at all times of the year. How many of our American Scouts are able to supply from their observation all of our native birds to take the places of these mentioned in this lovely paragraph? Everyone should be able to. _Nature in the City._--This noticing of small things, especially in animal life, not only gives you great interest, but it also gives you great fun and enjoyment in life. Even if you live in a city you can do a certain amount of observation of birds and animals. You would think there is not much fun to be got out of it in a murky town like London or Sheffield, and yet if you begin to notice and know all about the sparrows you begin to find there is a great deal of character and amusement to be got out of them, by watching their ways and habits, their nesting, and their way of teaching their young ones to fly. OBSERVATION. "_Stalking._--A Guide has to be sharp at seeing things if she is going to be any good as a Guide. She has to notice every little track and every little sign, and it is this studying of tracks and following them out and finding out their meaning which we include under the name of stalking. For instance, if you want to find a bird's-nest you have to stalk. That is to say, you watch a bird flying into a bush and guess where its nest is, and follow it up and find the nest. With some birds it is a most difficult thing to find their nests; take, for instance, the skylark or the snipe. But those who know the birds, especially the snipe, will recognize their call. The snipe when she is alarmed gives quite a different call from when she is happy and flying about. She has a particular call when she has young ones about. So that those who have watched and listened and know her call when they hear it know pretty well where the young ones are or where the nest is and so on. "_How to Hide Yourself._--When you want to observe wild animals you have to stalk them, that is, creep up to them without their seeing or smelling you. "A hunter when he is stalking wild animals keeps himself entirely hidden, so does the war scout when watching or looking for the enemy; a policemen does not catch pickpockets by standing about in uniform watching for them; he dresses like one of the crowd, and as often as not gazes into a shop window and sees all that goes on behind him reflected as if in a looking-glass. "If a guilty person finds himself being watched, it puts him on his guard, while an innocent person becomes annoyed. So, when you are observing people, don't do so by openly staring at them, but notice the details you want to at one glance or two, and if you want to study them more, walk behind them; you can learn just as much from a back view, in fact more than you can from a front view, and, unless they are scouts and look around frequently, they do not know that you are observing them. "War scouts and hunters stalking game always carry out two important things when they don't want to be seen." One is _Background_.--They _take care that the ground behind them, or trees, or buildings, etc., are of the same colour as their clothes_. And the other is "_Freezing_".--If an enemy or a deer is seen looking for them, _they remain perfectly still without moving so long as he is there_. _Tracking._--The native hunters in most wild countries follow their game by watching for tracks on the ground, and they become so expert at seeing the slightest sign of a footmark on the ground that they can follow up their prey when an ordinary civilized man can see no sign whatever. But the great reason for looking for signs and tracks is that from these you can read a meaning. It is exactly like reading a book. You will see the different letters, each letter combining to make a word, and the words then make sense; and there are also commas and full-stops and colons; all of these alter the meaning of the sense. These are all little signs, which one who is practised and has learnt reading, makes into sense at once, whereas a savage who has never learned could make no sense of it at all. And so it is with tracking. TRACKING. "Sign" is the word used by Guides to mean any little details, such as footprints, broken twigs, trampled grass, scraps of food, old matches, etc. Some native Indian trackers were following up the footprints of a panther that had killed and carried off a young kid. He had crossed a wide bare slab which, of rock, of course, gave no mark of his soft feet. The tracker went at once to the far side of the rock where it came to a sharp edge; he wetted his finger, and just passed it along the edge till he found a few kid's hairs sticking to it. This showed him where the panther had passed down off the rock, dragging the kid with him. Those few hairs were what Guides call "signs." This tracker also found bears by noticing small "signs." On one occasion he noticed a fresh scratch in the bark of a tree, evidently made by a bear's claw, and on the other he found a single black hair sticking to the bark of a tree, which told him that a bear had rubbed against it. _Details in the Country._--If you are in the country, you should notice landmarks--that is, objects which help you to find your way to prevent your getting lost--such as distant hills and church towers; and nearer objects, such as peculiar buildings, trees, gates, rocks, etc. And remember in noticing such landmarks that you may want to use your knowledge of them some day for telling some one else how to find his way, so you must notice them pretty closely so as to be able to describe them unmistakably and in their proper order. You must notice and remember every by-road and foot-path. Remembrance of these things will help you to find your way by night or in fog when other people are losing themselves. HORSES' TRACKS [Illustration: Walking.] [Illustration: Trotting.] [Illustration: Canter.] [Illustration: _O.H. = Off Hind, etc._ Galloping.] [Illustration: Lame Horse Walking: Which leg is he lame in? _N.B.--The long feet are the hind feet._] These are the tracks of two birds on the ground. One that lives generally on the ground, the other in bushes and trees. Which track belongs to which bird? _Using your Eyes._--Let nothing be too small for your notice--a button, a match, a hair, a cigar ash, a feather, or a leaf might be of great importance, even a fingerprint which is almost invisible to the naked eye has often been the means of detecting a crime. With a little practice in observation you can tell pretty accurately a man's character from his dress. How would you recognize that a gentleman was fond of fishing. If you see his left cuff with little tufts of cloth sticking up, you may be sure he fishes. When he takes his flies off the line he will either stick them into his cap to dry, or hook them into his sleeve. When dry he pulls them out, which often tears a thread or two of the cloth. Remember how "Sherlock Holmes" met a stranger, and noticed that he was looking fairly well-to-do, in new clothes with a mourning band on his sleeve, with a soldiery bearing and a sailor's way of walking, sunburns, with tattoo marks on his hands, and he was carrying some children's toys in his hands. What would you have supposed that man to be. Well, Sherlock Holmes guessed correctly that he had lately retired from the Royal Marines as a sergeant, that his wife had died, and that he had some small children at home. PRACTICE IN OBSERVATION.--_Instructor can take the fingermarks of each girl. Lightly rub the thumb on blacklead or on paper that is blacked with pencil, then press the thumb on paper and examine with magnifying glass. Show that no two persons' prints are alike._ IN TOWN.--_Practice your girls first in walking down a street to notice the different kinds of shops as they pass, and to remember them in their proper sequence at the end._ _Then to notice and remember the names on the shops._ _Then to notice and remember the contents of a shop window after two minutes' gaze. Finally, to notice the contents of several shop windows in succession with half a minute at each. Give marks for the fullest list._ _The Guides must also notice prominent buildings as landmarks, and the number of turnings off the street they are using._ IN THE COUNTRY.--_Take the patrol out for a walk and teach the girls to notice distant prominent features, such as hills, church steeples, and so on; and as nearer landmarks such things as peculiar buildings, trees, rocks, gates, by-roads or paths, nature of fences, crops different kinds of trees, birds, animals, tracks, people, vehicles, etc. Also any peculiar smells of plants, animals, manure, etc.; whether gates or doors were open or shut, whether any smoke from chimneys, etc._ _Send Guides out in pairs._ _It adds to the value of the practice if the instructor makes a certain number of small marks in the ground beforehand, or leaves buttons or matches, etc., for the girls to notice or to pick up and bring in as a means of making them examine the ground close to them as well as distant objects._ PRACTICES IN NATURAL HISTORY.--_Take out Guides to get specimens of leaves, fruit, or blossoms of various trees, shrubs, etc., and observe the shape and nature of the tree both in summer and in winter._ _Collect leaves of different trees; let Guides make tracings of them and write the name of the tree on each._ _In the country make Guides examine crops in all stages of their growth, so that they know pretty well by sight what kind of crop is coming up._ _Start gardens if possible, either a patrol garden or individual Guides' gardens. Let them grow flowers and vegetables for profit to pay for their equipment, etc. Show all the wild plants which may be made use of for food. Find yew trees; report if any good branches to make archers' bows of._ _Encourage the keeping of live pets, whether birds, animals, reptiles, insects. Show how to keep illustrated diary-records of plants, insects, birds, etc., giving dates when seen for comparison following year and showing their peculiar markings, etc._ _If in a town take your Guides to the Zoological Gardens, menagerie or Natural History Museum, and show them particular animals on which you are prepared to lecture. Not more than half a dozen for one visit._ _If in the country get farmers or shepherd to help with information on the habits of farm animals, e. g., how a cow lies down and when. How to milk, stalk rabbits, water voles, trout, birds, etc., and watch their habits._ SECTION VI FORMS FOR SCOUT CEREMONIES 1. ENROLLMENT Before a girl may become enrolled as a regular Girl Scout she must be at least ten years old, and must have attended the meetings of a Troop for at least a month, during which time she must have passed her Tenderfoot Test. The Captain must have prepared the candidate for enrollment by explaining the meaning of the Promise and the Laws and making sure that she fully understands the meaning of the oath she is about to make, and that she also comprehends the meaning of "honor." The following is a convenient form for enrollments. (1) The Scouts stand in the form of a horseshoe with the officer who is to enroll at the open side, facing Scouts. (2) Officer addresses troops on the subject of what it means to be a Scout. (3) Patrol Leader brings candidate to officer and salutes and returns to place. (4) Officer addresses candidate in low tone: "What does your honor mean?" Candidate answers. Officer: "Will you on your honor, try: To do your duty to God and to your Country; to help other people at all times; to obey the Scout Laws?" Candidate and officer both salute as candidate repeats Promise. Officer: "I trust you on your honor to keep this Promise." (5) Officer pins Tenderfoot Badge on the new scout, explaining what it stands for, that it symbolizes her Scout life, and so forth. (6) Scout and officer salute each other. Scout turns and troop salutes her, scout returning salute, and then goes alone to her place. (7) All Scouts present repeat Promise and Laws. Troop then breaks ranks to take up some Scout activity. When many scouts are to be enrolled, four at a time may be presented to the officer, but each should singly be asked and should answer the question: "What does your honor mean?" All four repeat the Promise together and the officer addresses all together in saying: "I trust you on your honor to keep this Promise," but speaks to each separately as she puts on the pin. A Captain may perform this ceremony or she may ask some higher Scout officer to do so. 2. _Presentation of Other Badges_ The following form of ceremony was devised for special use in the presentation of the highest honor attainable by a Girl Scout, the Golden Eaglet, but the same outline may be followed for giving Merit Badges, and First and Second Class Badges, or any other medals or honors. _Presentation of Golden Eaglet._--As the presentation of the Golden Eaglet is an important occasion in the life of a Scout and her Troop, it should take place at a public Scout function, such as a District or Community Rally, a reception to a distinguished guest of the Scouts, or possibly at the time of a civic celebration. The Court of Awards is responsible for all details of the meeting, and it is suggested that it invite parents, friends and other persons interested in the Scout movement to be present. The medal may be presented by the Chairman of the Court of Awards, some other member of that Committee or by a higher Scout officer. Arrangements for the ceremony should be planned so that during the presentation of guests, the Court of Awards, the Eaglet's troop and the Color Guard form a hollow square, with the Captain at her post three paces in front of the Troop, the Lieutenant at her post "center and rear" of the Troop. The ceremony should be rehearsed wherever possible, so that all action and form shall be as smart as possible. 1. The Court of Awards enters and takes its place at right angles to the assembled guests. 2. The Captain enters, takes post, and gives all commands. 3. The Color Guard (bearer of the American flag, bearer of the Troop flag, and two guards) followed by Troop to which the Eaglet belongs, enter and march two paces in front of the Court of Awards. The lieutenant is at the left of the leading file. The Troop marches in single file, by twos or in Squad formation according to the number, and the space available. When the Troop is very large, or the space restricted, the Eaglet's Patrol may take the place of the Troop. As the Colors pass, the Court of Awards should rise, stand at attention, and if Scouts, salute. 4. When the Color Guard at the head of the column has passed the Court of Awards, the command "Column left, MARCH!" is given. When the last file has completed the movement, the following commands are given: (1) "Scouts, HALT!" (2) "Left, FACE," or "Squads, left, MARCH, Squads, HALT," according to the formation of the column. (3) "Right, DRESS, FRONT!" 5. At the command "Left, FACE," or "Squads, left, MARCH, Squads HALT," the Color Guard makes a left turn, marches forward until on a line with the Court of Awards, again makes a left turn, immediately halts and grounds flags. 6. When the Troop and Color Guard are in position, the Captain gives the command "Patrol Leader and Eaglet, forward, MARCH!" The Patrol Leader escorts the Eaglet to the Captain, salutes the Captain and returns to her position in line. 7. The Chairman of the Court of Awards comes forward, the Captain faces her, salutes, and presents the Eaglet to her. 8. The Chairman after reading the list of Merit Badges which the Scout has earned in order to receive the Golden Eaglet, pins the medal on to the Eaglet's blouse, over the middle of the right pocket. The Eaglet salutes. If desired this is the opportunity for the Official presenting the badge to say a few words. 9. After the presentation, the Eaglet turns, and facing her Captain and Troop, stands at attention as the Colors are raised, the Scout flag dipped, and the Troop salutes. The Eaglet returns the salute and then marches to her position in line. 10. The Captain gives the command "Color Guard forward, MARCH." The Color Guard marches in front of the Captain and Troop who salute as the Colors pass, make a right turn two paces in front of the Court of Honor and march out. 11. After the Colors have left the "square" the Lieutenant takes her position at the left of the leading file. The Captain gives the commands: "Right, FACE, MARCH!" or "Squads right, MARCH!" "Column left, MARCH!" and the Troop marches out. The Captain turns, salutes the Court of Awards and passes out. O--LIEUT. 0000 0000 Troop-- 0000 0000 O--Capt. c xx Color c xx Court of Guard c xx Awards c xx -------- -------- -------- Guests Where there is no Local Council or Court of Awards, Captains are asked to communicate with the National Headquarters concerning the ceremony of presentation of the Golden Eaglet. ALTERNATE FORMS FOR SCOUT CEREMONIES In the case of troops for which this formal procedure is not practical, and for the better assistance of Captains and Councils who feel the need of a more definite formulation of the Scout principles on these occasions, the following ceremonies are suggested. They are designed to meet the necessity for expressing at each stage of the Scout's progress, recognition of her achievement up to that point and appreciation of her future responsibilities. 1. Tenderfoot Enrollment 1. The Troop being assembled in any desired formation, the Captain calls forward those who have passed the test. Captain: "Scout ----, do you think you know what it means to be loyal to God and your Country, to help other people at all times, and to obey the Scout Laws?" Scout: "I think I do, and I will try my best not to fail in any of them." _This is repeated to each Tenderfoot._ Captain: "Are you ready to make your Promise with your Troop?" New Scouts (_together_): "Yes." Captain: "Scouts of Troop ----, repeat your promise." _All salute and repeat the Promise._ Captain: "I trust you on your honor to keep this Promise." (_Here, when practicable, investiture of hat, neckerchief, etc., takes place._) _Captain then pins on Tenderfoot pin While attaching it, she says:_ Captain: "This pin makes you a Girl Scout. It is yours, so long as you are worthy of it." _Captain dismisses recently enrolled Scouts to their Troop position._ (_Here the Captain may add, if she wishes, anything in her judgment applicable to the Troop as a whole, or to the new Scouts individually._) 2. Conferring Second Class Badges The Troop being assembled in any desired formation, the Captain calls forward those who have passed the test. Captain: "Scout ----, you have learned what is necessary for a Second Class Scout to know. Do you think you can apply your knowledge, if the occasion should arise?" Scout: "I think so, and I will always try to =Be Prepared=." Captain: "Scouts (_reciting the candidates' names in order_), do you think that the discipline and training you have gone through have made you more capable of doing your duty to God and to your Country, of helping other people at all times and of obeying the Scout Laws, than you were as a Tenderfoot?" Scouts (_together_): "Yes." Captain (_pinning on each badge, and speaking to each Scout as she does so_): "You are now a Second Class Scout, which means that though you have learned much, you have still much to learn." _Captain dismisses Second Class Scouts to their Troop position._ (_Here the Captain may address the Troop at her discretion._) 3. Conferring First Class Badge _The Troop being assembled in any desired formation, the Captain calls forward those who have passed the test and presents them to the presiding Official._ Captain: "Commissioner ----, these Scouts of ---- Troop have passed their First Class Tests. I recommend them to you for First Class badges." Official (_to each Scout separately, the Captain giving her the name_): "Scout ----, you have passed the final Scout test. You should thoroughly understand by now the meaning of duty to God and Country, the privilege of helpfulness to others, and the seriousness of the Scout Laws. Are you sure that you do." Scout: "I am. And I realize that I must help other Scouts to see these things as I see them." Official: "Scouts ---- (_reading the candidates' names in order_), it has taken a great deal of thought and time and energy on the part of a great many people to enable you to wear this badge. Are you prepared to pay this back in generous service, when and where you can?" Scouts (_together_): "Yes." Official (_pinning on each badge and speaking to each Scout as she does so_): "You are now a First Class Scout. Remember that the world will judge us by you." Official (to Captain): "I congratulate you, Captain ----, Troop ----, and the members of the Council, on these First Class Scouts, and I trust that the Town of ---- will have every reason to be proud of them and to feel that it can depend upon them as especially good citizens and loyal Americans." _Captain acknowledges this in suitable manner and dismisses First Class Scouts to Troop position._ (_Here the Official may address the audience at discretion._) 4. Conferring Merit Badges The Troop being assembled in any desired formation, the Captain calls forward those who have passed the test and presents them to the presiding Official. (Note--The Merit Badges may be conferred by a member or members of the Council, if desired.) Captain: "Members of the Girl Scout Council of ----, these Scouts have passed the various tests for their Merit Badges, and I recommend them to you for decoration accordingly." Official: "Scouts (_reading the list_), you have fairly won the right to wear these badges we are about to present to you, and we are glad to do so. We take this opportunity of reminding you, however, that all good Scouts understand that they are far from having completely mastered the subjects represented by these badges. The symbols which you wear on your sleeve mean that you have an intelligent interest in the subjects you have chosen, understand the principles of them, and can give reasonable, practical proof of this. Do you realize that the Girl Scout Organization credits you with a good foundation and trusts to you to continue to build upon it intelligently?" Scouts (_together_): "Yes." Official (_pinning on badges and speaking to each girl separately_): "We congratulate you on your perseverance and wish you all success in your work." (_Note--When more than one badge is to be presented to a Scout, they may be attached, for the ceremony, to a piece of ribbon and put on with one motion._) _Captain dismisses Scouts to Troop position._ (_Here the official may address the audience at discretion._) _This ceremony being distinctly less formal and intimate than the regular class awards, Scout songs and cheers are in order._ 5. Golden Eaglet Ceremony The Troop being assembled in any desired formation, the Captain presents the Golden Eaglet to the Official who is to make the award. Captain: "Commissioner ----, Scout ----, of Troop ----, of ----, has not only passed the twenty-one Merit Badge Tests required for the honor of the Golden Eaglet, but is, in the judgment of her Troop, fully worthy of it. We therefore recommend her to you for the decoration." Official: "What badges does Scout ---- offer?" _Captain reads the list Badges earned by the Candidate._ Official: "Troop ----, do you agree that Scout ---- has fairly won this decoration and that you are willing to have her represent you to your National Organization as your Golden Eaglet?" Troop (_together_): "Yes." Official: "Members of the Council, do you agree that Scout ---- has fairly won this decoration and that you are willing to have her represent you to your community as your Golden Eaglet?" Council (_rising if seated_): "Yes." Official: "Scout ----, you have won the highest honor in the gift of the Girl Scouts." "If the Scout life meant nothing more to you than a reasonable understanding of certain subjects, there would now be nothing more for the Girl Scouts to teach you; but I am sure that your training has not failed in this respect, and that you understand now, even better than the average Girl Scout, that your great principles of duty to God and Country, helpfulness to others, and obedience to the Scout Laws, are lessons that no Scout can fully learn as long as she lives. Do you agree to this?" Golden Eaglet: "I agree to it thoroughly." Official (_pinning on badge_): "I have the honor of naming you a Golden Eaglet, and in the name of the Girl Scouts I congratulate you heartily on your fine achievement." _Scout salutes or shakes the hand of the Official, as desired, and returns to her troop position._ _(Here the Official may address the audience at discretion)._ The accompanying diagram of suggested relative positions in Scout ceremonies lends itself equally to a small room, theatre, hall or open field. Whether the Scouts form a troop or even one patrol; whether they make use of strict military formation or informal grouping; whether the visiting Scout dignitaries are many or limited to one member of the local Council, the Scout bodies face each other, and the guest or guests of honor, equally with the general audience, can observe the Troop and the candidates easily from the side. All Troops who are familiar with military drill can take their usual positions in their usual manner and observe all details of color guard, salutes, etc., to any desired extent. Troops and Captains not familiar with such procedure, by accustoming themselves to this general grouping, will always be able to present a dignified appearance. Note: These suggestions for the various ceremonials assume that the regular opening of the Scout meetings has already taken place; therefore nothing is given but the actual matter of the presentations, etc. In the case of the Tenderfoot, Second Class and First Class awards, the ceremonies constitute the special business of the meeting, and opening and closing should proceed as usual. They are distinctly Scout business and are not, in general, offered to the public. The awarding of Merit Badges might with advantage be connected with any local civic ceremony where interest in young people may be created; and in the case of the Golden Eaglet award it is distinctly desirable thus to connect it. Any visiting dignitary, national or state, may with propriety be asked to officiate; and where different organizations are taking their various parts in a public function, it will not always be possible to claim the time nor the space for the regular Scout opening ceremonies, nor would this necessarily be advisable. It is, therefore, well to be provided with a form like the preceding, where a small delegation from the Troop, the Captain and a Councillor could, if necessary, represent the essential units of the organization among a number of other societies; and the words of the ceremony would explain the occasion sufficiently without much concerted action, and may be inserted at the proper place, preceded and followed by any Troop or local customs preferred. [Illustration: Guests of honor Scout Troop Candidates All local and visiting with with Scout personnel, Captain and Lieutenant Official Council, Commissioners, etc. General Audience PLAN OF ASSEMBLY FOR GIRL SCOUT CEREMONIES] 6. How to Conduct a Scout Meeting 1. One long whistle blast: Silence, listen for orders. 2. Three short whistle blasts: "Fall In," or "Assemble," three paces in front of Captain, Squad formation. 5 6 7 8 5 6 7 8 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 1 2 3 4 1 2 3 4 * Captain Lieutenant * 3. "Right Dress," "Front." 4. Inspection. Captain inspects for posture, and for personal appearance which should be neat and clean in every particular, and uniform, which should be correct as to style, length, placing of insignia, etc. All necessary corrections should be made in a low tone of voice to the individual Scout. 5. "Color Bearer, Forward--Center" "March." The Color Bearer, appointed to carry flag, upon receiving order to "March", takes one step backward, executes "Right Face," marches out of rank, executes "Left Face," marches to point on line with flag, executes "Right Face," marches to within two steps of flag and comes to "Halt." She salutes flag, takes staff in both hands, wheels right, and marches to position three paces in front of, and facing troop. The captain and Lieutenant have moved to position at right angles to, and at right of troop. If a color Guard is used instead of Color Bearer, two Scouts act as guards, their position being on either side of bearer. They leave ranks together, form in line at right of troop, march shoulder to shoulder and always wheel to the right, the Color Bearer being the pivot and giving all orders to Guard. After Bearer has taken flag and turns, the Guards salute, take one step forward, about-face, and all march to position in front of troop. The Color Guard never takes part in the repeating of the Promise, Laws, Pledge of Allegiance or singing of Star Spangled Banner. 6. "Scouts, the flag of your country, Pledge Allegiance." The Pledge of Allegiance should be followed by one verse of the Star Spangled Banner. 7. "The Scout Promise," "Salute." 8. "The Scout Laws, Repeat." 9. "Color Bearer, Post-March." The Color Bearer, turning always to right, returns flag to its post, places it in position, salutes, and returns to place, entering ranks from rear of line. The Color Guard, wheels right, marches to post, Guards stand at attention while the Bearer places flag, salutes, and about-faces. The Guards step forward, about-face, and the Color Guard wheels and returns to ranks. 10. "Fall Out." 11. Business Meeting. 12. Scout activities, including work for tests and badges, singing games and discussion of Scout principles. 13. Closing Exercises. Closing Exercises 1. "Fall In." 2. America, or Battle Hymn of the Republic. 3. "Dismissed." Scouts salute Captain. The form for opening and closing exercises suggested above takes only 20 minutes and is a practical method of ensuring uniformity when groups from different troops come together. Troops may use more elaborate forms, depending upon the amount of time which the girls wish to spend upon this type of work. For instance: (a) In a troop composed of many patrols each Corporal forms her patrol and reports to the Lieutenant, who in turn reports to the Captain, "The company is formed," etc. (b) In dismissing, troops with a bugler may play "Taps" or may sing the same to words locally composed. (c) In some troops Corporals give commands. This is good because it emphasizes the patrol system. But the form outlined is given as the minimum requirement, and troops using it need never feel at a loss in large rallies, for every ceremony necessary to express the Scout spirit with dignity is there. No additions made locally should change the essential order of these exercises, all additions which are made being merely amplifications of it in detail, which may not be possible nor desirable in every community. Business Meeting The meeting opens with the Chairman, Secretary and Treasurer in place, with the Secretary at the right and the Treasurer at the left of the Chairman. The idea is to have every Scout in the troop learn to be the Chairman so that any and all could act in the capacity of a Business Chairman at any kind of meeting. The meeting is called to order by the Chairman. "Will the meeting please come to order?" The Chairman asks the Secretary to call the roll. "Will the Secretary call the roll? And will the Treasurer collect the dues?" The Chairman calls for the Secretary's report. "Will the Secretary read the minutes of the last meeting?" The Chairman calls for corrections of the minutes. "Are there any corrections?" If there are none she says: "If not, the minutes stand approved." If there are corrections the Chairman calls for further corrections, "Are there further corrections, etc. If not, the minutes stand approved as corrected." Form of Secretary's report: "The regular meeting of Pansy Troop No. 5, held at the club house, on April 4th, was called to order at 3 o'clock. In the absence of the Chairman, Scout ---- took the chair. The minutes of the previous meeting were read and approved, dues collected amounted to ----. After ---- was discussed and voted upon, the meeting adjourned." The Chairman calls for the Treasurer's report. "Will the Treasurer give her report?" Form of Treasurer's report: Balance on hand Jan. 1, 1919 $2.50 Members' dues $1.00 Fines .30 1.30 ----- Total $3.80 Disbursements-- Janitor $1.00 $1.00 Balance on hand 2.80 ----- Total $3.80 The Chairman calls for corrections as before. Then the Chairman calls for a discussion of old business, that is, anything discussed at previous meetings, that has been left undone or left to be decided at a later date. Any member of the meeting may bring up this old business, or the Chairman may start the discussion. "The business before the meeting is ----. What is your pleasure in regard to this," or "Will anyone make a motion?" The member who wishes to make the motion says: "Madam Chairman, I move that--" Another member who agrees to this says: "I second the motion." If the motion is not seconded at once, the Chairman says: "Will anyone second the motion?" After the motion has been moved and seconded the Chairman immediately states the question as, "It has been moved and seconded that the troop have a Rally on May 2. Are you ready for the question?" or "The question is now open for discussion." If no one rises, the Chairman proceeds to put the question. "All those in favor say aye, opposed no." Then the Chairman says, "The motion is carried," or "The motion is not carried," as the case may be. After the old business has been attended to, the Chairman calls for new business, saying, "Is there any new business to be discussed?" The Chairman then dismisses the meeting by calling for a motion for adjournment. Adjournment: "Will some one move that the meeting be adjourned?" If this is moved and seconded it is not necessary to put it to a vote. The Chairman says: "The meeting is adjourned." SECTION VII GIRL SCOUT CLASS TESTS 1. Tenderfoot Test Before enrolling as a Tenderfoot a girl must be ten years old and have attended at least four meetings, covering at least one month in time. In addition to the material covered by the test, the Captain must have thoroughly explained to her the meaning of the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag, the Scout Promise and the Scout Laws, and be sure of her general understanding of them as well as of her ability to respect them. This test is given by the Troop Captain. Tenderfoot Test 1. What are the Scout Promise and the Scout Laws? Head Give them as printed in Handbook. 2. Demonstrate the Scout Salute. When do Scouts use the Salute? 3. What are the Scout Slogan and the Scout Motto? 4. How is the respect due the American Flag expressed? Give the Pledge of Allegiance. 5. What are the words of the first and last stanza of The Star-Spangled Banner? 6. What is the full name of the President of the United States? What is the full name of the Governor of your State? What is the full name of the highest city, town or village official where you live? Hands 7. Make or draw an American Flag, using correct proportions. 8. Tie the Reef, Bowline, Clove-hitch and Sheep-shank knots according to instructions given in Handbook, and tell use of each. Whip the end of a piece of rope. Indicate and define the three parts of a rope. Helpfulness 9. Present record that you have saved or earned enough money to buy some part of the Scout uniform or insignia. Recommended: Practice Setting-up Exercises, Scout positions and Tenderfoot Drill as shown in Handbook. II. Second Class Test While it is not necessary to devote any specified length of time to the training for this test, it is well to remember that if too long a time is taken, either because of lack of interest on the part of the Troop, or too inflexible standards on the part of the Captain, the possibility of winning Merit Badges is delayed and the feeling of steady progress is likely to be lost. The girls should be urged to keep together as a body, and reminded that regular attendance and team-work will be fairer to all. Quick learners can spend their extra time on private or group preparation for their Merit Badges, for which they become eligible as soon as they have passed the test, but not before. This test may be given by the Troop Captain, or at her request by another Captain or competent authority, such as a registered nurse for bedmaking, health officer for First Aid, fire chief for fire prevention, and so forth. Second Class Scout Test Head 1. What is the history of the American Flag, and for what does it stand? 2. Describe six animals, six birds, six trees and six flowers. 3. What are the sixteen points of the compass? Show how to use a compass. 4. How may fire be prevented, and what should a Scout do in case of fire? 5. Send and receive the alphabet of the General Service or Semaphore Code. 6. Demonstrate ability to observe quickly and accurately by describing the contents of a room or a shop window, _or_ a table with a number of objects upon it, after looking a short time, (not more than ten seconds); _or_ describe a passer-by so that another person could identify him; _or_ prove ability to make a quick rough report on the appearance and landmarks of a stretch of country, not to exceed one-quarter of a mile and to be covered in not more than five minutes. Report should include such things as ground surface, buildings in sight, trees, animals, etc. (Note: This territory must have been gone over by person administering the test. The test is not to be confused with the First Class requirement for map making. It may be made the object of a hike, and tested in groups or singly. Artificial hazards may be arranged.) Hands 7. Lay and light a fire in a stove, using not more than two matches, or light a gas range, top burner, oven and boiler, without having the gas blow or smoke. Lay and light a fire in the open, using no artificial tinder, such as paper or excelsior, and not more than two matches. 8. Cook so that it may be eaten, seasoning properly, one simple dish, such as cereal, vegetables, meat, fish or eggs in any other form than boiled. 9. Set a table correctly for a meal of two courses. 10. Make ordinary and hospital bed, and show how to air them. 11. Present samples of seaming, hemming, darning, and either knitting or crocheting, and press out a Scout uniform, as sample of ironing. Health 12. Demonstrate the way to stop bleeding, remove speck from eye, treat ivy poisoning, bandage a sprained ankle, remove a splinter. 13. What do you consider the main points to remember about Health? (Note: This is based on a knowledge of the section in the Handbook on Personal Health. It is suggested that a good way to demonstrate practically a knowledge of the main points is to keep for a month the Daily Health Record. This will incidentally complete one-third of the requirement for Health Winner's Badge.) 14. What are your height and weight, and how do they compare with the standard? Helpfulness 15. Present to Captain or Council the proof of satisfactory service to Troop, Church or Community. 16. Earn or save enough money for some part of personal or troop equipment. Recommended: Practice Setting-up Exercises and Second Class Drill. III. First Class Test Work on this test should not be hurried. It is purposely made more thorough and more difficult, because it is designed for the older and longer trained Scout. The work for the Merit Badges, which all Scouts enjoy, should not be considered as interfering with this period, as such work is also the preparation for a possible Golden Eaglet degree. As a general rule, girls under fifteen are not likely to make thoroughly trained First Class Scouts, nor is the community likely to take their technical ability in the important subjects very seriously. The First Class Scout is the ideal Scout, of whom the organization has every right to feel proud; and ability to grasp a subject quickly and memorize details is not so important as practical efficiency, reliability and demonstrated usefulness to the Troop and the community. While the standard must not be set so high as to discourage the average girl, impatience to get through in any given time should not be encouraged, as this is not important. First Class Scout Test Head 1. Draw a simple map of territory seen on hike or about camping place, according to directions in Handbook, using at least ten conventional map signs. Area covered must equal a quarter square mile, and if territory along road is used it should be at least 2 miles long. 2. Demonstrate ability to judge correctly height, weight, number and distance, according to directions in Handbook. 3. Demonstrate ability to find any of the four cardinal points of the compass, using the sun or stars as guide. 4. Send and receive messages in the General Service or the Semaphore Code at the rate of sixteen and thirty letters a minute respectively. 5. Present the following Badges: Home Nurse First Aide Homemaker and any two of the following: Child Nurse Health Winner Laundress Cook Needlewoman Gardener Health 6. Take an overnight hike carrying all necessary equipment and rations; _or_ Take a group of younger girls on a day time hike, planning the whole trip, including where and how to get the food, assigning to each girl her part in responsibility, directing transportation and occupation, and so forth; _or_ Be one of four to construct a practical lean-to; _or_ Demonstrate skating backwards, the outer edge, and stopping suddenly; _or_ Run on skis; _or_ Show your acquaintance from personal observation of the habits of four animals or four birds. 7. Be able to swim fifty yards, _or_ in case of inaccessibility to water, be able to shin up ten feet of rope, or in case of physical disability, earn any merit badge selected that involves out-of-door activity. Helpfulness 8. Present a Tenderfoot trained by candidate. 9. Present to Captain or Council some definite proof of service to the community. 10. Earn or save one dollar and start a savings account in bank or Postal Savings, or buy Thrift Stamps. Recommended: Practice Setting-up Exercises. Practice First Class Drill. [Illustration: AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL KATHARINE LEE BATES Music by WILL C. MACFARLANE, Municipal Organist, Portland, Maine _Maestoso_ 1. O beautiful for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain, For purple mountain majesties Above the fruited plain! America! America! God shed His grace on thee. And crown thy good with brotherhood. From sea to shining sea! America! America! God shed His grace on thee! 2. O beautiful for pilgrim feet, Whose stern, impassion'd stress A thoroughfare for freedom beat Across the wilderness! America! America! God mend thine ev'ry flaw. Confirm thy soul in self-control, Thy liberty in law! America! America! God shed His grace on thee! 3. O beautiful for heroes proved, In liberating strife. Who more than self their country loved. And mercy more than life! America! America! May God thy gold refine, Till all success be nobleness, And ev'ry gain divine! America! America! God shed His grace on thee! 4. O beautiful for patriot dream That sees beyond the years Thine alabaster cities gleam Undimm'd by human tears! America! America! God shed His grace on thee. And crown thy good with brotherhood. From sea to shining sea! America! America! God shed His grace on thee! Copyright, 1913, by WILL C. MACFARLANE] FOOTNOTE: [1] By permission of the author. SECTION VIII WHAT A GIRL SCOUT SHOULD KNOW ABOUT THE FLAG _We take the star from Heaven, the red from our mother country, separating it by white stripes, thus showing we have separated from her, and the white stripes shall go down to posterity representing liberty._--_George Washington._ The American flag is the symbol of the one-ness of the nation: when a Girl Scout salutes the flag, therefore, she salutes the whole country. The American Flag is known as "Old Glory," "Stars and Stripes," "Star-Spangled Banner," and "The Red, White and Blue." The American flag today consists of red and white stripes, with the blue field, sometimes known as the Union in the upper left-hand corner, with forty-eight white stars. The thirteen stripes stand for the thirteen original States--New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia. The stars stand for the States now in the Union. The colors of the flag are red, representing valor; white, representing hope, purity and truth; blue, representing loyalty, sincerity and justice. The five-pointed star, which is used, tradition says, at Betsy Ross' suggestion, is the sign of infinity. History of the American Flag We think of ourselves as a young country, but we have one of the oldest written Constitutions under which a Nation operates, and our flag is one of the oldest in existence. When our forefathers came from Europe to settle in this country, which is now the United States, they brought with them the flags of their home countries, and planted them on the new territory in symbol of taking possession of it in the name of their liege kings and lands. Gradually the colonies came to belong to England, and the Union Jack became the flag of all, with the thirteen colonies represented by thirteen stripes and the Union Jack in the corner. This flag was known as the Grand Union or Cambridge Flag, and was displayed when Washington first took command of the army at Cambridge. It was raised on December 3, 1775, on the _Alfred_, flagship of the new little American Navy, by the senior Lieutenant of the ship, John Paul Jones, who later defended it gallantly in many battles at sea. On July 4, 1776, the Declaration of Independence was signed in Philadelphia and the United Colonies dissolved all ties that bound them to England and became an independent nation--the United States. It was immediately necessary to adopt a new flag, as the new nation would not use the Union Jack. Tradition says that in the latter part of May, 1776, George Washington, Robert Morris and Colonel Ross called on Betsy Ross in Philadelphia to make the first flag, which they designed. They kept the thirteen stripes of the Colonial flag, but replaced the Union Jack by a blue field bearing thirteen stars, arranged in a circle. The birthday of the flag was June 14, 1777, when Congress passed this resolution: Resolved: That the flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen stripes; alternate red and white; that the union be thirteen stars, white on a blue field, representing a constellation. The first American unfurling the Stars and Stripes over a warship was John Paul Jones when he took command of the _Ranger_ in June, 1777. Tradition says that this flag was made for John Paul Jones by the young ladies of Portsmouth Harbor, and that it was made for him from their own and their mothers' gowns. It was this flag, in February, 1778, that had the honor of receiving from France the first official salute accorded by a foreign nation to the Stars and Stripes. It was first carried into battle at the Battle of Brandywine in September, 1777, when Lafayette fought with the Colonists and was wounded. This was the famous flag made out of a soldier's white shirt, a woman's red petticoat, and an officer's blue cloak. A famous flag now in the National Museum in Washington is the Flag of fifteen stars and stripes, which floated over Fort McHenry--near Baltimore--in the War of 1812, and which Francis Scott Key (imprisoned on a British ship) saw "by the dawn's early light" after watching through the night "the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air" as proof that the fort had not fallen to the enemy. The next day he wrote "The Star-Spangled Banner." It is said that peace has its victories as well as war, and Scouts will want to know that our flag flew from the first vessel ever propelled by steam--Robert Fulton's _Clermont_. It was carried by Wilbur Wright on his first successful airplane flight in France. It was the flag planted at the North Pole by Robert Peary. It was the National emblem painted upon the first airplane to make the transatlantic flight, May, 1919. At first, when states came into the Union, a new stripe and a new star were added to the flag, but it was soon evident that the added stripes would make it very unwieldly. So on April 4, 1818, Congress passed this act to establish the flag of the United States: "Sec. 1. Be it enacted ... That from and after the 4th of July next, the flag of the United States be thirteen horizontal stripes, alternate red and white; that the union have twenty stars, white on a blue field. "Sec. 2. Be it further enacted, that, on admission of every new State into the Union, one star be added to the union of the flag; and that such addition shall take effect on the 4th day of July succeeding such admission." In 1917 after the United States entered the World War, the Stars and Stripes were placed with the flags of the Allies in the great English Cathedral of St. Paul's in London, and on April 20, 1917, the flag was hoisted beside the English flag over the House of Parliament as a symbol that the two great English-speaking nations of the world had joined hands in the cause of human brotherhood. RESPECT DUE THE FLAG 1. The flag should be raised at sunrise and lowered at sunset. It should not be displayed on stormy days or left out over night, except during war. Although there is no authoritative ruling which compels civilians to lower the flag at sundown, good taste should impel them to follow the traditions of the Army and Navy in this sundown ceremonial. Primarily, the flag is raised to be seen and secondarily, the flag is something to be guarded, treasured, and so tradition holds it shall not be menaced by the darkness. To leave the flag out at night, unattended, is proof of shiftlessness, or at least carelessness. 2. At retreat, sunset, civilian spectators should stand at attention. Girl Scouts, if in uniform, may give their salute. When the national colors are passing on parade or in review, Scouts should, if walking, halt, and if sitting, rise and stand at attention. When the flag is stationary it is not saluted. An old, torn, or soiled flag should not be thrown away, but should be destroyed, preferably by burning. The law specifically forbids the use of and the representation of the flag in any manner or in any connection with merchandise for sale. When the "Star-Spangled Banner" is played or sung, stand and remain standing in silence until it is finished. The flag should, on being retired, never be allowed to touch the ground. Regulations for Flying the Flag 1. The flag should not be raised before sunrise, nor be allowed to remain up after sunset. 2. In placing the flag at half mast, it should be raised first to full mast, and then lowered to the half mast position, from which it should again be raised to full mast before lowering. 3. The flag should never be draped. 4. When the flag is hung against a wall, the blue field should be in the upper left corner if the stripes are horizontal; in the upper right corners if the stripes are vertical. 5. In the case of flags hung across the street it is necessary to hang them by the points of the compass instead of right or left, because the right or left naturally varies according to whether the spectator is going up or down the street. When the flag is hung across a north and south street, the blue fields should be toward the east, the rising sun, when across an east and west street, the field should be toward the north. 6. The flags of two or more nations displayed together should always be hung at the same level, and should be on separate staffs or halyards. 7. In the United States, when the American flag is carried with one other flag, it should be at the right. When it is carried with two other flags, it should be in the middle. 8. When the American flag is hung against a wall with other flags, it is placed at the spectator's right, if it is one of two; and in the middle, if it is one of three. 9. The flag at half mast is a sign of mourning. 10. The flag flown upside down is a signal of distress. 11. On Memorial Day, May 30, the flag is flown at half mast during the morning, and is raised at noon to full mast for the rest of the day. Patriotic Songs for Girl Scouts "The Star-Spangled Banner" Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming, Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight, O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming! And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there; Oh! say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave, O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave? On that shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes. What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses? Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam, In full glory reflected now shines on the stream; 'Tis the star-spangled banner; Oh, long may it wave, O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! O! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand Between their loved homes and the war's desolation Blessed with victory and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation. Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, And this be our motto--"In God is our trust"; And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. --_Francis Scott Key_, 1814. _The Star Spangled Banner_ was written in 1814 by Francis Scott Key at the time of the bombardment of Fort McHenry, near Baltimore, by the British. Key had been sent to the British squadron to negotiate the release of an American prisoner-of-war, and was detained there by the British during the engagement for fear he might reveal their plans. The bombardment lasted all through the night. In his joy the following morning at seeing the American flag still flying over Fort McHenry, Key wrote the first stanza of the _Star Spangled Banner_ on the back of an old letter, which he drew from his pocket. He finished the poem later in the day after he had been allowed to land. The poem was first printed as a handbill enclosed in a fancy border; but one of Key's friends, Judge Nicholson, of Baltimore, saw that the tune of _Anacreon in Heaven_, an old English drinking song, fitted the words, and the two were quickly united with astonishing success. The old flag which prompted the poem is still in existence; it was made by Mrs. Mary Pickersgill. "America" My country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing; Land where my fathers died, Land of the Pilgrims' pride, From every mountain side Let freedom ring. My native country, thee, Land of the noble free, Thy name I love; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills; My heart with rapture thrills Like that above. Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom's song; Let mortal tongues awake, Let all that breathe partake, Let rocks their silence break, The sound prolong! Our father's God, to Thee, Author of liberty, To Thee we sing: Long may our land be bright With freedom's holy light; Protect us by Thy might, Great God, our King. --Samuel F. Smith, 1832. "America" was written in 1832 by Samuel Francis Smith, a graduate of Harvard, at that time studying for the ministry at Andover, Mass. The circumstances attending the writing of this hymn are told by the author in the following letter: Newton Centre, Mass., June 5, 1887. Mr. J. H. Johnson: Dear Sir: The hymn "America" was not written with reference to any special occasion. A friend (Mr. Lowell Mason) put into my hands a quantity of music books in the German language early in the year 1832--because, as he said, I could read them and he couldn't--with the request that I would translate any of the hymns and songs which struck my fancy, or, neglecting the German words, with hymns or songs of my own, adapted to the tunes, so that he could use the music. On a dismal day in February, turning over the leaves of one of these music books, I fell in with the tune, which pleased me--and observing at a glance that the words were patriotic, without attempting to imitate them, or even read them throughout, I was moved at once to write a song adapted to the music--and "America" is the result. I had no thought of writing a national hymn, and was surprised when it came to be widely used. I gave it to Mr. Mason soon after it was written, and have since learned that he greatly admired it. It was first publicly used at a Sabbath school celebration of Independence in Park Street Church, Boston, on the 4th of July, 1832. Respectfully, S. F. SMITH. The tune of "America," which Samuel Smith took from a German song book, was originally a French air. This French air was borrowed in 1739 by an Englishman, Henry Carey, who recast it for the British national anthem, "God Save the King." Switzerland, Prussia and other German States, and the United States have used the music for their national hymns. _Letter and facts from The Encyclopedia Americana._ "Battle Hymn of the Republic" Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword; His truth is marching on. I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps; I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps: His day is marching on. I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnish'd rows of steel: "As you deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal; Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel, Since God is marching on." He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat: Oh, be swift my soul, to answer Him, be jubilant my feet! Our God is marching on. In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me; As He died to make men holy, let us die to make them free, While God is marching on. --Julia Ward Howe. How to Make an American Flag The exact proportions of the American Flag have been fixed by executive order; that is to say, by order of the President, as have other features, such as the arrangement and position of the stars. The exact size of the flag is variable, though the army has several regulation sizes. The cut given below shows the dimensions of one of the regulation army flags. The proportions fixed by executive order on May 26, 1916, are as follows: If the width of the flag be taken as the basis and called 1, then The length will be 1.9, Each stripe will be 1/13 of 1, The blue field will be .76 long and 7/13 of 1 wide. Other features of the officially designed flag are as follows: The top and bottom stripes are red. Each State is represented by a five-pointed star, one of whose points shall be directed toward the top of the flag. Beginning with the upper left-hand corner and reading from left to right the stars indicate the States in order of their ratification of the Constitution and their admission to the Union. Find your State's star in the following list, and remember its number and line. _First Row_ 1--Delaware 2--Pennsylvania 3--New Jersey 4--Georgia 5--Connecticut 6--Massachusetts 7--Maryland 8--South Carolina _Second Row_ 9--New Hampshire 10--Virginia 11--New York 12--North Carolina 13--Rhode Island 14--Vermont 15--Kentucky 16--Tennessee _Third Row_ 17--Ohio 18--Louisiana 19--Indiana 20--Mississippi 21--Illinois 22--Alabama 23--Maine 24--Missouri _Fourth Row_ 25--Arkansas 26--Michigan 27--Florida 28--Texas 29--Iowa 30--Wisconsin 31--California 32--Minnesota _Fifth Row_ 33--Oregon 34--Kansas 35--West Virginia 36--Nevada 37--Nebraska 38--Colorado 39--North Dakota 40--South Dakota _Sixth Row_ 41--Montana 42--Washington 43--Idaho 44--Wyoming 45--Utah 46--Oklahoma 47--New Mexico 48--Arizona [Illustration] AN EASY WAY TO DRAW THE FLAG The sketch shows the steps in getting a flag drawn according to national requirements. 1. Draw the outline of your flag, making for convenience, the width equal an even 10 units (such as eighths or quarters or half, etc.) so that the length can be made 19 units. 2. Get the 13 stripes outlined as follows: a) Take your ruler and find a place marking 13 units, such as 3-1/4 inches, or 6-1/2 or even 9-3/4 inches. b) Then draw the 2 lines A B and A' B'; marking off the 13 points on each. It does not matter where the lines are drawn so long as they extend between the top and bottom of the rectangle. c) Through these points draw lightly, the lines for the stripes, covering the _whole_ flag. 3. Before making the final lines, block in the union in the upper left hand corner, making its length equal to 7.6 of the original units used for the whole flag. The width of the union is _seven_ stripes. 4. Place the stars as follows: The lines marking the stripes may be used to mark the 6 lines of stars. The eight stars to a line may be determined by dividing the length of the union into nine parts and dropping eight perpendiculars through the six lines already there. In the sketch the line, D F and D' F' are guide lines to make the new parallel lines. These are made just as in the case of A B and A' B' only containing nine units and extending between the two sides of the union. 5. The stars are made at the intersection of the lines. It is not necessary to put in more than one or two, to show the shape and direction of points. 6. The stripes may be colored, or if indicated by cross hatching, make the cross hatches vertical (I I I I I) which is the symbol for red. Band Leader O ------ | BAND | ------ National O President Nat'l Field Capt.-> O O O <- National Director | Vice-President --------------- |NAT'L COUNCIL| --------------- State O Com'sioner State Field Capt.->O O O<-State Director | State Deputy Commissioner ------------- |STATE COUNCIL| ------------- Local O Com'sioner Local Field Captain->O O O<-Local Deputy Com'sioner | Local Director ------------- |LOCAL COUNCIL| ------------- Troop O Capt. O Lieut. ------ |SCOUTS| ------ ------ |SCOUTS| ------ Color Guard Color Guard | | O O O O | | Council Flag American Flag O Lieut. ______ |SCOUTS| ------ ______ |SCOUTS| ------ [Illustration: (1) SIMPLE PARADE FORMATION] ------------------- | BAND | ------------------- Color Guard->O O O<-Color Guard | American Flag Officer O in Charge O Captain O Lieut. ----------------- | SCOUTS | ----------------- ----------------- | SCOUTS | ----------------- O Captain O Lieut. ----------------- | SCOUTS | ----------------- ----------------- | SCOUTS | ----------------- O Captain O Lieut. ----------------- | SCOUTS | ----------------- ----------------- | SCOUTS | ----------------- [Illustration: (2) SIMPLE PARADE FORMATION] PARADE FORMATION FOR GIRL SCOUTS The accompanying Cut 1 indicates a suggested formation for patriotic, Civic or Girl Scout parades when Scout officials take part in the parade. It should be noted that the Scouts are represented by a column of four ranks, the Color Guard marching in the center of the column. Should a larger number of Scouts participate in the parade, the Color Guard must be changed to a position in the center of the longer column. Cut 2 indicates a more simple form of parade which has been found of service and effectiveness. In this formation the Color Guard follows the band or Scout buglers. The local director or her representative marches directly behind the Color Guard and is followed by the Scouts in column formation, each double rank commanded by a captain, who marches three paces in front of the front rank, and a lieutenant, who marches at the extreme left of the double rank one step ahead of the front rank. Front and rear ranks march forty inches apart. It is not usually possible, nor is it necessarily advisable, to use one troop in forming a double rank. The important thing is to have in each line the number of Scouts designated by the person in charge of the parade. This number, determined by the width of the street and the number marching, will be either four, eight, twelve or sixteen. If girls of the same height march together, the shorter preceding the taller, the appearance of the column will be more uniform and pleasing. When Scout troop flags are used, they are carried in the column at the extreme right. [Illustration: GIRL SCOUT UNIFORM--TWO PIECE] SECTION IX GIRL SCOUT DRILL Although the simple exercises in opening and closing a meeting are the only formal work necessary for Scouts, the Scout Drill outlined in this Handbook is added for Captains as a suggestion for handling one or more Patrols in the club room, or on the street, in an orderly dignified manner. Where the Troop and Captain are interested in this form of activity, it adds a great variety to the Scout meetings, and its value in giving an erect carriage, alert habit of obedience, and ability to think and act quickly are undoubted. In case of rallies and parades it is practically the only way of handling large bodies of Scouts from different localities. Every order and formation here recommended is taken from the United States Infantry Drill Regulations, and it is now possible for Captains in all localities to secure the assistance of some returned soldier glad to give a half hour occasionally to drilling the Scouts. The simple formations selected have been divided into Tenderfoot, Second Class and First Class groups entirely for the convenience of the Captain; none of the work is too difficult for a Second Class Scout and there is nothing to prevent a Tenderfoot from taking all of it, if the troop should be particularly interested in drilling. Commands are divided into two classes: (a) The preparatory, to tell the Scout _what_ to do, and (b) The command of execution, to tell _how_ to do it. Tenderfoot Drill Schedule "FALL IN" At this command each Scout immediately takes her position in the Patrol to which she belongs (the captain having already assigned to each Scout her exact place), and without further order assumes the position of "_Attention_" three paces in front of Captain. The position of _Attention_ is: body and head erect, head, shoulders and pelvis in same plane, eyes front, arms hanging easily at the sides, feet parallel and about four inches apart; perfect silence to be maintained. Patrol formation, two ranks (rows) of four Scouts each, forty inches between front and rear ranks. The patrol corresponds to the military unit of the squad. Other patrols will fall in on the left of patrol No. 1 and on a line with it, in their numerical order. When assembled a troop of four patrols will be in the position indicated by the following diagram, and facing the captain. 5678 5678 5678 5678 1234 1234 1234 1234 Lieut. Capt. If the Captain prefers, and where there are only a few Scouts to be handled, they may be drawn up in a single rank facing the Captain. In either position they are now ready for the preliminaries of military drill. 1. _Right_ (or left) _Dress_. 2. _Front._ At the command _"Dress"_ whether to right or left, all Scouts place the left hand on the hip. Each Scout, except the base file, Scout on right or left end from whom the other take their alignment, when on or near the new line, executes "_Eyes Right!_" and taking steps of two or three inches, places herself so that her right arm rests lightly against the arm of the Scout on her right, and so that her eyes and shoulders are in line with those of the Scout on her right; the rear rank Scouts cover in file. The instructor verifies the alignment of both ranks from the right flank and orders up or back such Scouts as may be in rear or in advance of the line: only the Scouts designated move.[2] At the command "_Front,_" given when the ranks are aligned, each Scout turns her head and eyes to the front and drops the hand at her side. To march the patrol or troop in column of twos, the preliminary commands would be as just given: 1. _Fall in._ 2. _Right Dress._ 3. _Front._ The troop is then drawn up facing the Captain in two ranks as described. The Captain then commands: 1. _Right_ (or left) _Face_ (According to the direction in which the column is to proceed.) 2. _Forward._ 3. _March._ At the command "_March_," each Scout steps off smartly with the _left_ foot. Facings To the flank: "_Right_ (or left) _Face_." Raise slightly the left heel and the right toe; face to the right, turning on the right heel, assisted by a slight pressure on the ball of the left foot; place the left foot by the side of the right. "Left Face" is executed on the left heel in the corresponding manner. Right (or left) Half Face is executed similarly, facing forty-five degrees. To the rear: _About Face._ Carry the toe of the right foot about half a foot length to the rear and slightly to the left of the left heel without changing the position of the left foot; face to the rear, turning to the right on the left heel and right toe; place the right heel by the side of the left. Eyes Right or Left 1. _Eyes Right_ (or left). 2. _Front._ At the command "Right," turn the head to the right oblique, eyes fixed on the line of Scouts in, or supposed to be in, the same rank. At the command "_Front_" turn the head and eyes to the front. The Rests Being at halt, the commands for the different rests are as follows: FALL OUT, REST, AT EASE and 1 PARADE, 2 REST. At the command _Fall Out_, the Scouts may leave the ranks, but are required to remain in the immediate vicinity. They resume their former places, at attention at the command "_Fall In_." At the command "_Rest_" each Scout keeps one foot in place, but is not required to keep silence or immobility. At the command _"At Ease"_ each Scout keeps one foot in place and is required to keep silence but not immobility. _1 Parade, 2 Rest._ Carry the right foot six inches straight to the rear, left knee slightly bent; clasp the hands, without constraint, in front of the center of the body, fingers joined, right hand uppermost, left thumb clasped by the thumb and forefinger of the right hand; preserve silence and steadiness of position. To resume the attention: _1 Squad (or Company) 2 Attention._ Steps and Marchings All steps and marchings executed from the halt, except right step, begin with the left foot. The length of the full step in "_Quick Time_" for a Scout is twenty inches, measured from heel to heel, and the cadence is at the rate of one hundred twenty steps per minute. The length of the full step in "_Double Time_," for a Scout, is about twenty-four inches; the cadence is at the rate of one hundred eighty steps per minute. The instructor, when necessary, indicates the cadence of the step by calling "One, Two, Three, Four," or "Left, Right, Left, Right," the instant the left and right foot, respectively, should be planted. All steps and marchings and movements involving march are executed in "Quick Time" unless the squad (or company) be marching in "Double Time." Quick Time Being at a halt, to march forward in quick time: 1 _Forward_, 2 _March_. At the command "_Forward_," shift the weight of the body to the right leg, left knee straight. At the command "_March_" move the left foot smartly straight forward twenty inches from the right, sole near the ground, and plant it without shock; next, in like manner, advance the right foot and plant it as above; continue the march. The arms swing naturally. Being at a halt, or in march in quick time, to march in double time; 1 _Double time_, 2 _March_. If at a halt, at the first command shift the weight of the body to the right leg. At the command "_March_" raise the forearms, fingers closed to a horizontal position along the waist line; take up an easy run with the step and cadence of double time, allowing a natural swinging motion to the arms. If marching in quick time, at the command "_March_," given as either foot strikes the ground, take one step in quick time, and then step off in double time. To resume the quick time: 1 _Quick Time_, 2 _March_. At the command _March_, given as either foot strikes the ground, advance and plant the other foot in double time; resume the quick time, dropping the hands by the sides. To Mark Time Being in march: 1 _Mark Time_, 2 _March_. At the command _March_, given as either foot strikes the ground, advance and plant the other foot; bring up the foot in rear and continue the cadence by alternately raising each foot about two inches and planting it on line with the other. Being at a halt, at the command _March_, raise and plant the feet as described above. The Half Step 1 _Half Step_, 2 _March_. Take steps of ten inches in quicktime, twelve inches in double time. _Forward_, _Half Step_, _Halt_ and _Mark Time_ may be executed one from the other in quick or double time. To resume the full step from half step or mark time: _Forward March._ Side Step Being at halt or mark time: 1 _Right (or left) Step_, 2 _March_. Carry and plant the right foot twelve inches to the right; bring the left foot beside it and continue the movement in the cadence of quick time. The side step is used for short distances only and is not executed in double time. Back Step Being at a halt or mark time: 1 _Backward_, 2 _March_. Take steps of twelve inches straight to the rear. The back step is used for short distances only and is not executed in double time. To Halt To arrest the march in quick or double time: 1 _Squad_ (or if the full troop is drilling _Company_), 2 _Halt_. At the command _Halt_, given as either foot strikes the ground, plant the other foot as in marching; raise and place the first foot by the side of the other. If in double time, drop the hands by the sides. To March by the Flank Being in march: 1 _By the Right (or left) Flank_, 2 _March_. At the command _March_, given as the right foot strikes the ground, advance and plant the left foot, then face to the right in marching and step off in the new direction with the right foot. To March to the Rear Being in march: 1 _To the Rear_, 2 _March_. At the command _March_, given as the right foot strikes the ground, advance and plant the left foot; turn to the right about on the balls of both feet and immediately step off with the left foot. If marching in double time, turn to the right about, taking four steps in place, keeping the cadence, and then step off with the left foot. Change Step Being in march: 1 _Change Step_, 2 _March_. At the command _March_, given as the right foot strikes the ground, advance and plant the left foot; plant the toe of the right foot near the heel of the left and step off with the left foot. The change on the right foot is similarly executed, the command _March_ being given as the left foot strikes the ground. SECOND CLASS DRILL _Fall In._ (_Described in Tenderfoot Drill._) _Count Off._ At this command all except the right file execute _Eyes Right_, and beginning on the right, the Scouts in each rank count _One_, _Two_, _Three_, _Four_; each turns her head and eyes to the front as she counts. [Illustration: GIRL SCOUT UNIFORM--ONE PIECE] Alignments 1 _Right (or Left) Dress_, 2 _Front_. (Described in Tenderfoot Drill.) To preserve the alignment when marching; _Guide Right_ (_or left_). The Scouts preserve their intervals from the side of the guide, yielding to pressure on that side and resisting pressure from the opposite direction; they recover intervals, if lost, by gradually opening out or closing in; they recover alignment by slightly lengthening or shortening the step; the rear rank Scouts cover their file leaders at forty inches. To Take Distance (Formation for signalling or for setting-up exercises.) Being in line at a halt having counted off: 1 _Take Distance at four paces_, 2 _March_; 3 _Squad (or company), Halt_. At the command _March_, each Scout in succession starting at four paces apart and beginning with No. 1 of the front rank, followed by 2, 3, 4 and 1, 2, 3, 4 of the rear rank, marches straight forward until the order Squad, Halt is given. The command _Halt_ is given when all have their distances. (Word to instructors: Where the floor space is limited it is advisable to have the Scouts take the half step in executing this formation or move at two paces.) If more than one squad is in line, each squad executes the movement as above simultaneously. Being at distances, to assemble the squad (or company): 1 _Assemble_, 2 _March_. At the command _March_, No. 1 of the front rank stands fast; the other members move forward to their proper places in the line. The Oblique March For the instruction of the recruits, the squad being in column or correctly aligned, the instructor causes the Scouts to face half right and half left, points out to them their relative positions, and explains that these are to be maintained in the oblique march. 1 _Right (or Left) Oblique_, 2 _March_. At the command _March_, each Scout steps off in a direction forty-five degrees to the right of her original front. She preserves her relative position, keeping her shoulders parallel to those of the guide, and so regulates her steps that the ranks remain parallel to their original front. At the command _Halt_ the Scouts face to the front. To resume the original directions: 1 _Forward_, 2 _March_. The Scouts half face to the left in marching and then move straight to the front. To Turn on Moving Pivot Begin in line: 1 _Right (or left) Turn_, 2 _March_. (This applies to the single squad; if the whole troop is drilling and is in column of squads, or twos, the command would be: 1 _Column Right_ (_or left_), 2 _March_.) The movement is executed by each rank successively and on the same ground. At the second command, the pivot Scout of the front rank faces to the right in marching and takes the half step; the other Scouts of the rank oblique to the right until opposite their places in line, then execute a second right oblique and take the half step on arriving abreast of the pivot Scout. All glance toward the marching flank while at half step and take the full step without command as the last Scout arrives on the line. _Right_ (_or left_) Half Turn is executed in a similar manner. The pivot Scout makes a half change of direction to the right and the other Scouts make quarter changes in obliquing. To Turn on a Fixed Pivot Being in line, to turn and march: 1 _Squad Right_ (_or left_), 2 _March_. At the second command, the right flank Scout in the front rank faces to the right in marching and marks time; the other front rank Scouts oblique to the right, place themselves abreast of the pivot, and mark time. In the rear rank the third Scout from the right, followed in column by the second and first, moves straight to the front until in the rear of her front rank Scout, when all face to the right in marching and mark time; the other number of the rear rank moves straight to the front four paces and places herself abreast of the Scout on her right. Scouts on the new line glance toward the marching flank while marking time and, as the last Scout arrives on the line, both ranks execute _Forward March_ without further command. Being in line to turn and halt: 1 _Squad Right_ (_or left_), 2 _March_, 3 _Squad_, 4 _Halt_. The third command is given immediately after the second. The turn is executed as prescribed in the preceding paragraph except that all Scouts, on arriving on the new line mark time until the fourth command is given, when all halt. The fourth command should be given as the last Scout arrives on the line. Being in line to turn about and march: 1 _Squad Right (or left) About_, 2 _March_. At the second command the front rank twice executes Squad Right initiating the second Squad Right when the Scout on the marching flank has arrived abreast of the rank. In the rear rank the third Scout from the right, followed by the second and first in column, moves straight to the front until on the prolongation of the line to be occupied by the rear rank; changes direction to the right; moves in the new direction until in the rear of her front rank Scout, when all face to the right in marching, mark time, and glance toward the marching flank. The fourth Scout marches on the left of the third to her new position; as she arrives on the line, both ranks execute _Forward March_ without command. FIRST CLASS DRILL _On Right (or left) Into Line._ Being in columns of squads, to form line on right or left; 1 _On Right (or left) Into Line_, 2 _March_, 3 _Company_, 4 _Halt_, 5 _Front_. At the first command the leader of the leading unit commands: _Right Turn._ The leaders of the other units command: _Forward_, if at a halt. At the second command the leading unit turns to the right on moving pivot. The command _Halt_ is given when the leading unit has advanced the desired distance in the new direction; it halts; its leader then commands: _Right Dress._ The units in the rear continue to march straight to the front; each, when opposite its place on the line, executes _Right Turn_ at the command of its leader; each is halted on the line at the command of its leader, who then commands: _Right Dress._ All dress on the first unit on the line. If executed in double time, the leading squad marches in double time until halted. _Front Into Line._ Being in columns of squads, to form line to the front; _Right (or left) Front Into Line_, 2 _March_, 3 _Company_, 4 _Halt_, 5 _Front_. At the first command the leaders of the units in the rear of the leading one command: _Right Oblique._ If at a halt, the leader of the leading unit commands: _Forward._ At the second command the leading unit moves straight forward: the rear units oblique as indicated. The command _Halt_ is given when the leading unit has advanced the desired distance; it halts; its leader then commands: _Left Dress_. Each of the rear units, when opposite its place in line, resumes the original direction at the command of its leader; each is halted on the line at the command of its leader, who then commands: _Left Dress_. All dress on the first unit in line. To Diminish the Front of a Column of Squads Being in column of squads: 1 _Right (or left) By Twos_, 2 _March_. At the command _March_, all files except the two right files of the leading squad execute _In Place Halt_; the two right files of the leading squad oblique to the right when disengaged and follow the right files at the shortest practicable distance. The remaining squads follow successively in like manner. Being in columns of twos: (1) _Right (or left) By File_, 2 _March_. At the command _March_, all files execute _In Place Halt_, except the right file of the leading two oblique successively to the right when disengaged and each follows the file on its right at the shortest practicable distance. The remaining twos follow successively in like manner. Being in column of files of twos, to form column of squads; or being in column of files, to form column of twos: 1 _Squads (Twos) Right (or left) Front Into Line_, 2 _March_. At the command _March_, the leading file or files halt. The remainder of the squad, or two, obliques to the right and halts on line with the leading file or files. The remaining squads or twos close up and successively form in the rear of the first in like manner. The movement described in this paragraph will be ordered _Right_ or _Left_, so as to restore the files to their normal relative positions in the two or squad. FOOTNOTE: [2] _All ranks count off beginning with right end: 1, 2, 3, 4._ SECTION X SIGNALLING FOR SCOUTS A. GENERAL SERVICE CODE The General Service Code, given herewith, also called the Continental Code and the International Morse Code, is used by the Army and Navy, and for cabling and wireless telegraphy. It is used for visual signalling by hand, flag, Ardois lights, torches, heliograph, lanterns, etc., and for sound signalling with buzzer, whistle, etc. The American Morse Code is used for commercial purposes only, and differs from the International Morse in a few particulars. A Scout need not concern herself with it because it would only be used by the Scout who eventually becomes a telegrapher, and for this purpose the Western Union Company offers the necessary training. Wig Wag Signalling GENERAL SERVICE CODE The flag used for this signalling is square with a smaller square of another color in the center. It may be either white with the smaller square red, or red with the smaller square white. A good size for Scout use is 24 inches square with a center 9 inches square, on a pole 42 inches long and one-half inch in diameter. There are but three motions with the flag and all start from, and are completed by, return to position, which means the flag held perpendicularly and at rest directly in front of the signaller. Signaller should stand erect, well balanced on the arches of the feet. The butt of the flag stick is held lightly in the right hand; the left hand steadies and directs the flag at a distance from six to twelve inches above the right on the stick. The length of the stick will determine the position of the left hand; the longer the stick the further apart must the hands be placed in order to obtain the best balance. [Illustration: POSITION DOT DASH FRONT] DOT: To make the dot, swing the flag down to the right until the stick reaches the horizontal and bring it back to Position. DASH: To make the dash, swing the flag to the left until it reaches the horizontal and bring it back to Position. INTERVAL: The third position is made by swinging the flag down directly in front and returning to Position. In order to keep the flag from "fouling" when making these motions, make a sort of figure 8 with the point of the stick. A slight turn of the wrist accomplishes this result and becomes very easy after a little practice. Beginners should master the three motions of the flag, exaggerating the figure 8 motion before they attempt to make letters. _It is also best to learn the code before attempting to wig wag it, so that the mind will be free to concentrate upon the technique or correct managing of the flag._ THE GENERAL SERVICE CODE (The International Morse or Continental) Uses: Commercial wireless, submarine cables, Army and Navy. Methods: flags by day, torches, lanterns, flashlight, searchlight, by night; whistle, drum, bugle, tapping. A .- B -... C -.-. D -.. E . F ..-. G --. H .... I .. J .--- K -.- L .-.. M -- N -. O --- P .--. Q --.- R .-. S ... T - U ..- V ...- W .-- X -..- Y -.-- Z --.. 1 .---- 2 ..--- 3 ...-- 4 ....- 5 ..... 6 -.... 7 --... 8 ---.. 9 ----. 0 ----- Period .. .. .. Comma .-.-.- Quotation Marks .-..-. Colon ---... Semicolon -.-.-. Interrogation ..--.. A convenient form for learning the letters is as follows: DOTS E . I .. S ... H .... DASHES T - M -- O --- OPPOSITES A .- -. N B -... ...- V D -.. ..- U G --. .-- W F ..-. .-.. L Y -.--- ---.- Q SANDWICH LETTERS K -.- P .--. X -..- R .-. LETTERS WITH NO OPPOSITES Z --.. C -.-. J .--- Make no pause between dots and dashes in making a letter, but make a continuous swing from right to left, or left to right. A pause at Position indicates the completion of a letter. One Interval (Front) indicates the completion of a word. Two Intervals indicate the completion of a sentence. Three Intervals indicate the completion of a message. _Do not try for speed._ In all signalling, accuracy is the important thing, for unless the letters are accurately made they cannot be easily read, and the message will have to be repeated. Fall into a regular easy rhythm in sending. Speed comes with practice. Signalling with a Flash Light: Use a short flash for the dot and a long steady flash for the dash. Pause the length of three dots between letters, and the length of five dots between words. A still longer pause marks the end of a sentence. Signalling by Whistle: Use a short blast for the dot, and a long steady blast for the dash. Indicate the end of a letter, a word, and a sentence by the same pauses as explained in Flash Light Signalling. Signalling with a Lantern: The motions used in signalling with a lantern are somewhat like those of the wig wag flag. For Position hold the lantern directly in front of the body; for the dot swing it to the right and back to Position; for the dash swing it to the left and back to Position; and for Interval move it down and up in a vertical line directly in front. A stationary light should be placed on the ground before the feet as a point of reference for the various motions. B. SEMAPHORE SIGNALLING SEMAPHORE CODE The semaphore is a machine with two arms which may be moved into various positions to make letters. The semaphore code shown in the accompanying picture may also be employed by a person using two flags. It is the quickest method of flag signalling but is available for comparatively short distances, seldom over a mile, unless extra large flags are employed or there is some extraordinary condition of background or atmosphere. The semaphore code is not adapted to as many uses as is the general service code, but for quick signalling over comparatively short distances, it is preferable in every way. The regulation flag is 18 inches square, either divided diagonally into two triangles of white and red, or square of white with small square of red in the center, or red with small square of white. These flags are fastened on poles 24 inches long and 1/2 inch in diameter. The flags must be carefully held so that the sticks make, as it were, a continuation of the arm bone; a bent wrist will cause the flags to make an entirely different angle, and consequently a different letter from the one intended. Swing the arms smoothly and without hesitation from one letter to another. Hold each letter long enough to make it clear to the person receiving it. Every word begins and ends with "intervals," the hands crossed downward in front of the body, arms nearly straight, right hand always over the left. Indicate the end of a sentence by one "chip-chop" made by holding both flags to the right, horizontally, and moving them up and down several times; not altogether, but one flag going down as the other comes up, making the "chopping" motion. [Illustration: CODE FOR SEMAPHORE SIGNALLING] Note: The extended arm should always make a straight line with the flag staff. _From the very beginning practice reading as well as sending._ It is harder to do and requires more practice. Instructors should always face the class in giving a lesson; in this way the pupil learns to read at the same time as she is learning to make the letters. This principle applies to all visual signalling. Whistle Signals 1. One blast, "Attention"; "Assemble" (if scattered). 2. Two short blasts, "All right." 3. Four short blasts, calls "Patrol Leaders come here." 4. Alternate long and short blasts, "Mess Call." Hand Signals These signals are advisable when handling a troop in a street where the voice cannot be readily heard, or in marching the troop into some church, theatre, or other building where a spoken command is undesirable. _Forward_, _March_: Carry the hand to the shoulder; straighten and hold the arm horizontally, thrusting it in the direction of the march. (This signal is also used to execute quick time from double time.) _Halt_: Carry the hand to the shoulder; thrust hand upward and hold the arm vertically. _Double Time_, _March_: Carry the hand to the shoulder, rapidly thrust the hand upward the full extent of the arm several times. _Squads Right_, _March_: Raise the arm laterally until horizontal; carry it to a vertical position above the head and swing it several times between the vertical and horizontal positions. _Squads Left_, _March_: Raise the arm laterally until horizontal; carry it downward to the side and swing it several times between the downward and horizontal positions. _Change Direction or Column Right (Left) March_: The hand on the side toward which the change of direction is to be made is carried across the body to the opposite shoulder, forearm horizontal; then swing in a horizontal plane, arm extended, pointing in the new direction. _Assemble_: Raise the arm vertically to its full extent and describe horizontal circles. THE GIRL SCOUT SALUTE. =How To Salute.= To salute, a Girl Scout raises the right hand to her hat in line with the right temple, the first three fingers extended, and the little finger held down by the thumb. This salute is the sign of the Girl Scouts. The three extended fingers, like the Trefoil, represent the three parts of the Promise. =When To Salute.= When Scouts meet for the first time during the day, whether comrades or strangers, of whatever rank, they should salute each other. If in uniform a Girl Scout stands at attention and salutes the flag when it is hoisted or lowered, and as it passes her in parade. If not in uniform, she stands at attention, but does not salute. When in uniform and in ranks in public demonstration, a Girl Scout stands at attention and salutes when the Star Spangled Banner is played. But she does not salute when she herself is singing. In ordinary gatherings when the anthem is played, a Girl Scout stands at attention but does not salute. When Girl Scouts are on parade or marching in troop or patrol formation, only the officers salute, at the same time giving the command, "Eyes right," or "Eyes left," as the case may be, at which every Scout turns her eyes sharply in the direction ordered till the officer commands, "Eyes front." When repeating the Promise, a Girl Scout stands at salute. When in uniform a Girl Scout should salute her officers when speaking to them, or when being spoken to by them. If in uniform, a Girl Scout should return the salute of a Boy Scout. She does not salute the police or military officers unless they salute her first. Girl Scouts may salute each other whether they are in uniform or not. =Pledge of Allegiance.= "I pledge allegiance to the flag and to the republic for which it stands; one nation indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." Girl Scouts should stand at attention, bring the hand to the full salute at the first word of the pledge, and at the word "flag" extend the arm, fingers still in the salute position, palm up, pointing to the flag. =Parades.= Girl Scouts may take part in patriotic parades with the permission of the Local Council or Commissioner or of the Captain where there is no Local Council. SECTION XI THE SCOUT AIDE Introduction. The six following subjects, Home Economics, Child Care, First Aid, Home Nursing, Public Health, and Personal Health are grouped together, and for proficiency in all of them a special badge called "Scout Aide" is awarded. This badge will probably be regarded by the outside world as the most important decoration the Girl Scouts can win, and all Scouts who will try for it should realize that those who wear it will represent the organization in a very special sense and will be eager to prove their practical knowledge and ability in the important subjects it stands for. No young child could pretend to represent ALL this medal stands for. Any grown girl or woman should be proud to own it. Practical knowledge of Personal Health, Public Health and Child Care will add to the efficiency and happiness of this nation, and the women of today have a better chance to control these things than ever before. Home Nursing and First Aid will save lives for the nation in the two great emergencies of illness and accident. Household Economics, the great general business and profession of women, if it is raised to the level of the other great businesses and professions, and managed quickly, efficiently and economically, will cease to be regarded as drudgery and take its real place among the arts and sciences. When the girls of today have learned to do this, the women of tomorrow will be spared the criticism of waste and extravagance that our nation has had to bear. If Girl Scouts make good as far as this medal is concerned and become real "Scout Aides" the Scout reputation is secure. [Illustration] 1. THE HOME MAKER BY SARAH LOUISE ARNOLD Formerly Dean of Simmons College _The Keeper of the House._ Every Girl Scout knows that good homes make a country great and good; so every woman wants to understand home-making. Of course that means "keeping" a house; and of course that means that Girl Scouts should try for the Housekeeper Merit Badge, the "Home Maker." Now "making a home" doesn't mean just having it, owning it and holding its key. It means making it a good place to live in, or helping to make it so. This sounds like the House that Jack built; but all this belongs to the making of a home. _Planning Your House._ When you plan a house of your own you must think what it needs most. You would choose, first of all, to have abundant air, fresh and clean; a dry spot where dampness will not stay; sunshine at some time of day in every room of the house, which you can have if your house faces southeast; and you must be able to get a good supply of pure water. You will want to make your house warm in the winter and cool in the summer, so you will look out for windows, doors and porches. Think what must be done in a house: eating, sleeping, working, resting, by the whole family. How many rooms must you have? Draw a plan of some house in your neighborhood that seems good to live in. Make up your mind what you like best in that house. _Furnishings._ Then houses must be furnished with the things that the family needs. The furniture will be for use. You must ask every piece what it is good for. What will you do with it? Could you get along without it? Some things you would use constantly, others once in a while. Which would you get first if you were planning carefully? How much would it cost to furnish the house for which you have drawn the plans: to furnish the kitchen, the living room, the bedrooms? Make a list of the furniture _needed_ (not just _wanted_) for each room with the cost of each piece. It is worth while for you to go to look at furniture in stores and to think about buying it. Then you will discover that a piece of furniture that looks well in the store might not look at all well in your house, for furniture must "suit" the house and the room into which it goes. It must "fit," we say. No other furniture will do. So the Girl Scout will make up her mind what will fit her house; and of course this means also what will fit the family purse. For the keeper of the house must not let into her house one single thing that she cannot afford to buy. She will take pride in that. So when you make a list of furniture--with its price--make sure that everything you choose, suits, or fits, _your_ house. _The Cellar._ Most houses are built over cellars, for purposes of sanitation, heating and water supply, as well as for storage. The Girl Scout who lives in the country probably knows all about cellars for they are much needed there. The city girl may live in an apartment and may never think of a cellar. Look at the cellars of two or three houses. How are they built? Did you plan for one in your house? The cellar should be well ventilated, having light as well as air. Its windows should be screened; the floor should be dry and if possible made of cement; the walls should be whitewashed. Ashes should be kept in a galvanized iron barrel, to prevent fire. A cellar should be a clean place, corners and all. _The Kitchen._ The kitchen is a work-shop; it should be sunny and airy. Look out for windows to let in the fresh air and sunshine. And while you are thinking of windows, be sure that they can open at the top and bottom to let sweetness in, and drive bad odors out. Your kitchen should hold things that are necessary, and nothing else. It should be easy to keep clean, having painted walls, and the floor should be of hard pine or else covered with linoleum. When a Girl Scout takes care of the kitchen she is in honor bound to keep all the corners clean and to leave no dust nor crumbs of food anywhere about. She will take great pains to keep flies out of the kitchen and so will have her windows screened. A good kitchen is provided with a sink and if possible with running water; and it must have a good stove, with a place for keeping wood or coal if either is used. _The Kitchen Floor._ The floor of the kitchen should be made of hard wood. Maple or hard pine will make a good floor. A hard-wood floor can be dressed with shellac or with oil. The wood absorbs this dressing so that water will not soak in. A floor which has been shellacked should be wiped with warm water. Not much water will be needed. The oiled floor can be wiped and dried, then oiled lightly from time to time. Linoleum or oilcloth may be used to cover an old floor. If the floor is rough it should be made even by planing before the linoleum is put down, and the cracks should be filled. If you can't get linoleum you can paint your floor with a hard floor paint. Be sure to get a paint that dries hard. The linoleum should be frequently washed with warm water and soap and then rinsed carefully before it is dried. _The Kitchen Stove._ The chief business of the kitchen stove is to provide heat for cooking. It must hold a fire, and so must be made of something which will not burn. Stoves are usually made of iron. Fire will not burn without air, so a place must be arranged to let air into the stove, and just enough to make the fire burn clearly and furnish the right amount of heat. That is what the front dampers or slides are for. The fuel, wood or coal, is held in the fire-box. The heated air makes the top of the stove hot for frying, broiling or boiling, and the oven hot for baking. The smoke and gases from the fire must not come out into the room to blind our eyes or suffocate us; the chimney is built to take care of the smoke and gases, and there must be a way for them to get into the chimney; the stove pipe is for this. But the game you have to play with your stove is to let the smoke and gases run up chimney, but to save all the heat you can for the work to be done. So your stove is supplied with dampers. When the fire is new, and there is much smoke or gas, you open the damper into the stovepipe, and in the stovepipe. Try to get a picture of the way the heated air goes from the fire-box up into the chimney. We call this direct draft. Of course a great deal of heat runs away through the chimney, and so your fuel is wasted. Now if you want to save heat, and particularly if you want to bake, and must have a hot oven, you will close the oven damper that has made the short easy way into the stovepipe. Then the heated air must find another way to get to the chimney, and it has to go around the oven to do this. While the hot air is finding its way around the oven, it heats it, ready for your baking. We call this the "indirect draft." Look over your kitchen stove and see how this happens. Take off the covers, open every door, and examine every part. Stoves must be carefully managed. The fires must burn readily and the cooking must be done with the least possible amount of wood or coal. This means a clean stove, free from ashes and with a clear draft. Wood or coal will burn freely in the air. They will stop burning if there is no draft. Learn to manage your draft. Remember that stoves are made with a damper, in order to control the current of hot air. If the oven damper is closed this heated air _must_ pass over and around the oven before it gets to the chimney and so heat the oven. If it is open the hot air can immediately escape up the chimney. When starting the fire leave the damper open. As soon as it is burning well, close it so that the oven will be heated. Your stove should also have a damper in the pipe, to save the heat which would otherwise run up the chimney. If there is none, have one put in. There are also dampers or slides in front of the stove to control the amount of air going in. The housekeeper must learn how to manage her stove; she must get acquainted with it, for every stove has its own way. Draw a picture or plan of the stove that you know best. See if you can tell plainly how to build a fire in your stove. If you use natural gas or a kerosene stove tell how that should be managed. _Gas and Oil Stoves._ Cooking may be done on an iron stove with either coal or wood as fuel, or the stove may be planned for burning gas or kerosene. The coal fire must be fed several times a day with coal and the ashes must be removed to keep the fire burning clearly. Wood burns out quickly and must be replaced often. Both wood and coal stoves mean almost constant care for the housekeeper. Gas gives less trouble. It comes in pipes from outside the house. This means that somebody else--the gas company--provides the supply. You turn on the gas when you want to use it and turn it off, if you are wise and thoughtful, the moment it is not needed. The gas company measures the amount of gas that you use by its meter, and you pay for every bit that you burn or waste. The important thing, then, is to use as little gas as possible in order to pay for as little as possible. You would rather pay twenty-five cents for a thrift stamp, than for gas that had burned simply because you had forgotten to turn it off. Be sure that gas is turned completely off at all places and never have a low light burning, as the flame may be blown out and the unburned gas escape. This would be dangerous and might even kill persons in the house. The kerosene stove may be used instead of a gas stove in houses which are not piped for a gas supply. If wicks are used they must be carefully trimmed, so that they will be clean and even. A kerosene stove needs frequent cleaning. It should be kept free from dust and from drippings of oil. The Fireless Cooker When a Girl Scout gets to thinking about all the work to be done in a kitchen she will ask some very important questions. How much work is to be done? How long does it take to do it? Can time be saved by doing it in a better way? How can I save labor? Save time? Save money? The Girl Scout will find the answers one at a time, if she does her own work. And if you do your own work you will at once call for a fireless cooker. The name sounds impossible, for you have always cooked with a stove, and, of course, a fire. How can you cook without a fire? The women of Norway taught us how. When they went out to work in the fields or on the farm they took the hot kettle of soup off the stove and hid it away in a hay box. The hay kept the heat in the kettle instead of letting it escape; so the soup kept on cooking, and when the women came home from their work in the fields there it was, all steaming hot and ready for dinner. Everyone has noticed how some things carry or conduct heat and other things don't. That's why we use a "holder," when handling a hot dish or stove lifter or tea-pot. The "holder" does not carry the heat to the hand; it keeps it away. So the hay packed around the hot kettle kept the heat in the kettle, refusing to "conduct" it away. Therefore the soup went on cooking. Your English cousins use a "cosy" to cover the hot teapot or coffee pot. This "cosy" is made of quilted cotton; and looks like the quilted hood that your great-grandmother used to have. This keeps the heat in the tea or coffee, so that you can have a second cup for the asking. America was slow to learn from her thrifty cousins, but at last she adopted the fireless cooker; and this is what it does: The fireless cooker, a case packed with some material which refuses to conduct heat, is used to continue the cooking of foods after they have been made hot on the stove. When securely covered in the cooker they will go on cooking for several hours because the heat is retained by the protecting case. A Girl Scout may buy a fireless cooker, paying from $5 to $25 for it, or she may make one, which will cost less than one dollar. Of course this is a challenge to make one. You may be very sure that if you make a fireless cooker you will understand all about it. To make a fireless cooker you will need: (1) _A cooker or container_, which should be an agate pail with a close fitting cover. The sides should be straight up and down, the bottom just as big as the top. You can choose a small one holding two quarts, or a gallon pail which would be large enough for anything an ordinary family would be likely to cook. (2) _A case_, which must be at least eight inches wider than your container, for the packing must extend at least four inches around the pail on every side. You may use a round case like a big wooden candy pail, which you can usually get at the ten cent store for ten cents; or it may be a galvanized iron can with a cover like the one ordinarily used for garbage; or it may be a box shaped like a cube. (3) For packing you may use crumpled newspapers tightly packed in; or ground cork, which is used in packing Malaga grapes, is fine, and you may be able to get it from a fruit store. Excelsior is good, and perhaps you will find that in the shed in some packing case; while, if you live in the country, you may be able to get Spanish moss. This should be dried, of course. And then there is hay--which our Norwegian cousins use. Let us try paper. Pack the box or can four inches deep, with crumpled paper, making a very even layer. Put a piece of pasteboard much larger than the bottom of your pail upon this layer and set your pail in the middle of it. Now pack the paper tightly around the pail up to the very top, using a stick of wood or mallet to press it down. Now you must make a cloth cover for your pail in the shape of a tall hat. The rim of the hat must reach out to the edges of your case and be tacked there. Take out your pail, fit this cloth cover into the hole and tack the edge evenly to the box. You must now make a cushion to fill the rest of the box, packing it full of the crumpled paper. Make hinges for the lid of your box and put some sort of fastener on the front to keep the lid down tight. Now you have your fireless cooker. When your oatmeal or your stew, or your chicken, or your vegetables have boiled ten or fifteen minutes on the stove in your agate pail, clap on its cover, set it into the nest, push the cushion into the top of the cooker, clamp down the lid, and your work is done, for the cooking will go merrily on all alone by itself in your fireless cooker. While you are making your fireless cooker, remember that the thermos bottle is made on the same principle. And remember, too, that your non-conducting packing material will keep heat out just as well as it keeps heat in. In the summer time you may wish to keep your ice cream cold for a while in your fireless cooker. Perhaps you will see how this might help on a hot summer's day and what a comfort a fireless cooker might prove in a sick room. The Ice Chest. How It Is Made In taking care of food we must be provided with a cool place, for the storage of milk, butter, cream, and all cooked food that may spoil. In summer this is especially important; in an apartment, and in most city houses the ice chest is needed all the year around; in the country, it is needed only in the warm months. The ice chest is built much as the fireless cooker is made. Its case is usually made of wood, its packing material must be non-conducting, and its lining must be some smooth surface through which water cannot pass. Some ice chests are lined with zinc and some with porcelain tiles. In some ice chests, food and ice are kept in the same box, which usually opens at the top; in other chests there is a separate chamber for the ice. From the ice chamber a drain pipe carries away the water which drips from the melting ice. Every ice chest must be kept clean and sweet. It should be looked over every day and washed carefully at least once a week. No crumbs of food should be left on the shelves. If you spill anything, wipe it up _clean_ at once. The drain pipe must be kept clean. A long wire brush is used for this. If you are buying an ice box, get one with removable pipes, which are easily cleaned. If there is any odor from the chest, scald with water and soda, a teaspoonful of soda to a quart of water. Rinse with fresh cold water. If your ice chest drips into a pan which must be emptied daily, have a regular time for emptying it. An overflowing pan in an apartment may damage the ceiling below. If it drips into a pan which drains itself, be sure that the drain is kept clean and the entrance to the pipe unclogged. Clean the drip pan whenever you clean the ice chest. It is a good plan to keep food in closed containers like fruit jars. Wide dishes take up too much space. Containers should be tall rather than broad. Put no hot dishes in the ice box; it wastes the ice. The Iceless Refrigerator An "iceless refrigerator" sounds like a "fireless cooker." This is an arrangement made to keep food cool in the summer when there is no ice. A wooden cage with shelves is covered with a cloth cover and placed near a window or out of doors. If in the house it should stand in a large pan to prevent the dripping of water on the shelf or floor. A piece of the cloth cover should rest in a pan of water. If this is not convenient a strip of cloth can be sewed to the cover endwise and this piece should be placed in a pan or bowl of water which should be set on top of the cage. This water will be sucked throughout the cloth cover of the refrigerator until it is wholly wet. As the water evaporates from the cover the air inside the refrigerator is cooled. The iceless refrigerator works well on days when dry air is moving about. It does not do well on damp, quiet days. Another simple refrigerator which does very well for a little milk or a pat of butter is a clean, earthen flower pot, turned upside down in a shallow pan of water. This will keep very cool the food which it covers. The Kitchen Sink Next to the stove, the sink is the most important piece of kitchen furniture. The best sinks are of enamel or are made of porcelain. They have a fine wire drainer so that nothing solid will go into the trap and plug the pipes. The Girl Scout uses boiling water, and plenty of it, to flush the sink. She takes pains that no grease gets into the drain to harden there. When grease is accidentally collected, soda and hot water will wash it away, but it should never collect in the pipes. The Keeper of the House takes pride in a perfectly clean sink. Taking Care of the House and the Things in It Taking care of a house and its furniture means keeping the house clean, neat, and orderly, and keeping everything in good repair. This means a great deal of thought on the part of the Keeper of the House. For there are many sorts of work to be done, and there is a right way of doing every bit of it. By paying attention a Girl Scout may learn very fast, and become very helpful and competent. First, there's the Dish Washing. Dish Washing In making ready for dish washing scrape every plate carefully to remove crumbs that would get into the dish water. Try using crumpled tissue paper to remove milk, grease, or crumbs before the dishes are put into the pan. Save tissue paper, and paper napkins for this. Pile in separate piles, all dishes of each sort; wash first glass, then silver, then cups, saucers, plates, then the rest; do not put bone, ivory or wooden handles of knives into the water. Use hot water and soap for dish washing, then rinse with clean hot water. Dish towels should be cleansed after every dish washing; wash clean in hot soapy water, then rinse all the soap away in clean water. Cooking utensils should soak in cold water until time for dish washing, unless they can be washed as soon as used. Use a tray for carrying dishes to the closet or pantry instead of travelling with a handful back and forth. Strain the dish water before pouring it down the sink. Be sure that no greasy water is put into the sink. Let the grease rise and cool; skim it off and dispose of it after the dishes are washed. Taking Care of Rooms Keeping a house in order means having everything in its place in every room. It means sweet, fresh air in every room; it means removal of dust and litter. A good housekeeper "tidies" her rooms as she goes along, always picking up anything that is out of place and putting it where it belongs. But she also has a method in doing things. Perhaps she sweeps the entire house every day or every other day, or perhaps she puts one room in order on one day and another on another and so on. The important thing is to have a regular plan. [Illustration: HEIGHT OF SINK] The Living Room Taking care of a living room means cleaning the floor and the rugs; dusting the walls, the pictures; cleaning, dusting, and sometimes polishing the furniture. Open the windows top and bottom, dust and brush them inside and out; use a soft brush or a dust mop to take the dust from the floor. Use a carpet sweeper for the rugs unless you have electricity and can use a vacuum cleaner; collect the sweepings and burn them. Dampen one quarter of your cheese-cloth duster and roll it inside the rest of the duster, then wring. This makes a dampish cloth for dusting the base-boards, window sills, and other woodwork as well as the furniture. Where the furniture is highly polished, or would be injured by water, use oil on the duster instead. Dust after the dust has settled, not when it has been stirred into the air. Shake and replace doilies or covers. Be sure that the pictures hang straight after dusting and that every piece of furniture is put in its right place. See how long it takes to clean the room; then study to find out how the time can be shortened. Do not keep useless furniture nor have too many things in your room. _The Bathroom_ and the bath tub require daily cleansing. In the ordinary family every one who uses the tub should leave it perfectly clean for the next one who needs it. All the furnishings of the bathroom should be kept sweet and clean. Use a flush closet brush daily, scalding it after using it. And remember that fresh air and sunshine are cleansing agents. Get them to work for you. _The Bedroom._ Your bedroom needs all the fresh air it can get. The Girl Scout sleeps with her windows open. As soon as you have dressed in the morning throw the windows wide open again, if they have been closed. Open the bed, so that both sheets may be reached by the fresh air. Shake up your pillows and put them on a chair near the window. Leave your night clothing spread or hung where it will be well aired. Let your room have a fresh air bath! You know already how to make a bed. You will remember that all the bedclothing must be smooth and even, when the bed is made. You are lucky if you have a sister to help you make your bed, for this piece of work is easier for two than for one. You will see that the mattress is lying straight. Once a week you (the two of you) will turn the mattress, end over end one week, and side over side the next week. Then your mattress will wear evenly, and not have a hollow in the middle where you sleep all the time. Then you two will lay the mattress cover straight, and tuck it in firmly, so that you will have no hard wrinkles to sleep on. The under sheet, smooth and straight, must be tucked in all around. You will make the bed as smooth as the table. Now the upper sheet, which is the hardest thing to manage in bed making, must be neatly tucked in at the foot. But you must allow eight inches at the top to be turned over the blankets and spread. Now the blankets, straight and smooth, and evenly tucked in at the foot. Then you may choose between tucking in the sides after folding the top sheet down over the blankets, and afterwards covering the whole bed with the spread, letting the sides and ends hang down; and laying the spread even with the blankets, tucking in the sides, and turning down the sheet over all. Try both ways. Now, shake and pat the pillows, making them very smooth and quite square-cornered; then lay them or stand them neatly at the head of the bed, meeting exactly in the middle; and your bed is fit for a queen, or a tired Girl Scout after a tramp! With the bed neatly made, everything must be put in its proper place. The furniture and window sills must be dusted with a clean cheese-cloth duster; and the bare floors must be nicely dusted with a dry floor-mop, or a cloth pinned over a broom. If there are rugs, use a carpet sweeper, if you have one, or a broom. If you do any broom sweeping, however, you will do it before you dust. Now a last look to see that the room is tidy, every chair in place and the shades even at the windows, and your room is ready for the day. Of course any Girl Scout who wants a Homemaker's badge will _do_ all these things;--not guess or suppose how others do them and how long it takes. That is the honest way to learn. So find out how long it takes to put your room in order. There is only one way to find out. Fighting Germs Keeping clean in these days means keeping free from troublesome germs as well as visible dirt. Germs thrive in dampness and darkness. They can be overcome by sunshine. For thorough cleanness, the house needs fresh air and sunshine as well as sweeping and dusting. The Girl Scout must remember to let the fresh air blow through every room in the house every day. She should sleep with her windows open. She is fortunate if she can sleep out of doors. Of course she is in honor bound to have no dark, damp, hidden, dirt-filled corners in any part of her house, not even in shed or cellar. Let in the light and clean out the dirt. Fighting the House Fly and Mosquito House flies carry disease. They breed in filth, human waste, animal droppings, decayed animal or vegetable matter, and are so made that they carry filth wherever they go. Since the fly alights wherever it pleases, it carries dirt from outside and distributes it wherever it CHOOSES. Clean up all heaps of rubbish where flies may breed. Keep your garbage pail _absolutely clean_. Disinfect outdoor water-closets and cover with gravel or slacked lime. Get fly traps to set on your porches. Kill all flies that come into the house, especially the early ones, in the spring. Keep your windows and doors screened. Fight mosquitoes just as you fight flies. Leave no still water even in an old tin can, for the eggs of mosquitoes are deposited in still water and hatch there. The mosquito, like many other insects, has an intermediate stage between the egg and the grown mosquito. During this stage it swims about in quiet water. Mosquitoes in great numbers may be growing in old cans or bottles, rain-filled and hidden away under the bushes in your yard. Watch for such breeding places; clean up your yard and banish the mosquito. Taking Care of Waste All waste must be carefully disposed of. It should never accumulate in the kitchen; but the important thing is to have _no real waste_. See that everything is put to the utmost use. If you live in the country, chickens and pigs will take the parings, the outer leaves of vegetables, etc., and you can bury or burn waste. If you live in the city the garbage man will collect all waste. The garbage can must be kept thoroughly clean. It should be rinsed and scalded whenever it is empty, so that there will be no bad odors about the kitchen. Find out how garbage is taken care of in your town. How can you help to keep your neighborhood clean? What should be done if there is carelessness about garbage? Taking Care of Woolen Things Housekeepers must fight moths as well as flies. The clothes moth loves to lay its eggs in wool. It is very keen in searching out bits of wool and finding a place for its baby to thrive. Unless you have a care it will lay its eggs in your best winter dress which you forgot and left hanging in the hot summer days. When the baby worm pokes its head out of the egg, it begins to feed upon the wool; and when some cold winter morning you get your dress you will find holes neatly cut where the little worm has gnawed, and beside the holes the little woven cradle which the tiny creature spun for itself, and in which the crawling worm changed to the flying, silvery moth. The housekeeper must therefore, carefully brush and pack away all woolen things before the moths arrive. After the garment is cleansed and brushed it may be folded in newspapers carefully pinned at the ends, so that no crack is left for the moth to get in it, or it may be laid in a cedar box; or in any plain box with moth balls or camphor. Every box should be labelled so that you know without opening it what is in it. Watch edges of carpets and rugs for the carpet beetle and the "Buffalo bug." The last bothersome creature may eat your cotton dresses in your closet. All clothing must have care. Make a list of the woolen things that must be taken care of if the house is closed in summer and what personal clothing must be packed away for the summer even if the house is not closed. Storage of Food Taking care of food so that it will "keep" well is just as important as the careful buying of food. Much waste, and therefore loss of money and labor, comes from carelessness in the storage of food. The bright Girl Scout will keep her eyes open to see how foods are taken care of in the house; which foods must be kept in the cellar; which ones must be stored on the shelves of dry closets; which ones come in sealed parcels; which in paper bags; which in boxes; which in barrels. There must be a place in the house for keeping all these things. So you need to think which foods _must_ be kept in the house and which must be bought from day to day. And in the house which you plan there must be ample space for closets and shelves, for keeping properly all that must be stored. No one can say which things must be kept in the house by every family. If the Girl Scout happens to live in a crowded city where rents are high, she will have little storage space, and will not keep so many things on hand. If she lives in the country, miles from a store, she must have a "store" of her own. So keep your eyes open, Girl Scout, and see what is being done in your part of the world. That is what eyes are made for. Heating the House A house may be heated by a furnace, by stoves, or even by open fires in the fireplace, as in old days. Heating the house makes the chimney necessary. This must be carefully arranged for in planning your house. Heating by stoves is the most common arrangement. In the large city or town, the furnace is used. This is merely a big stove in the cellar or basement, so planned that its heat is distributed through the house. By this means one big stove does the work of many little ones, and warms the whole house. The furnace may use its heat to turn water into hot steam, which is sent through all the house through the iron pipes and radiators. Or the water in the boiler may be made quite hot, though not turned into steam, and sent through the house in the same way, by means of pipes. Or hot air from around this big stove or furnace may be sent through big pipes directly to the various rooms. This means dust and dirt, and we are learning to use steam and hot water instead of the hot air system. The fireplace is almost a luxury. It is found oftenest in country houses where wood can easily be got and stored. The town or city home may have its open fire, however. Everyone loves an open fire; and when you plan your own house, you must manage to get one if you can. The hearth is the heart of the house. Labor Saving The housekeeper must learn how to do her work in the least possible time; she must save steps. Look at the house that you have planned and see whether everything you need to use is within easy reach. Look carefully at the closets where you keep things. Are they big enough? Are they in the right place? Suppose your water comes from a well which is a long way from the house. What difference will it make? What would you do about it? The Water Supply The water supply of every home should be carefully guarded. If the water is defiled or contaminated by germs of typhoid fever, diphtheria, or other diseases, whose bacteria may be carried by water, the disease may be spread wherever the water is used. No earth closets or human or animal waste should be in the neighborhood of the well. Water should come from high ground and clean places with no possibility of gathering infection on the way to the house. Great pains should be taken to keep drinking water absolutely clean. All drinking vessels should be washed and scalded and the rims should never be handled. In the country every home has a private water supply and takes pains to guard it. In the city there is a common water supply and everyone is responsible for keeping it pure. Where does the water come from that supplies your city or town? How is it kept clean? Who takes care of it? Whenever there is any question about the purity of common drinking water, the table supply should be boiled, for safety. Boiling will destroy any bacteria that could produce disease. This boiled water should be used for rinsing dishes as well as for drinking. Girl Scouts will interest themselves in municipal or neighborhood housekeeping, for that is a responsibility which all share together. Learning to take care of one's own home is a good beginning, if one is to share in providing good conditions for the neighborhood. Little Things Worth Remembering The stove should be cleaned with crumpled newspaper whenever the kitchen is put in order. All ashes should be neatly brushed off. In lifting ashes from the ash pan with a shovel use a newspaper to cover the pail into which the ashes are poured, so that the dust will not scatter over the room. Don't dump them and raise dust; and never put hot ashes into a wooden box or barrel. Watch the floor of closets and see that no dusty corners are hidden out of sight. Air and dry soiled clothing before putting it in the laundry basket. If damp clothes are hidden away they will mildew. Learn to make out a laundry list and to check it when the laundry comes home. Save the soap chips and use a soap shaker. Get all the help you can from older housekeepers in your neighborhood. Ask them how they do things and why. Your mother may know something better than anybody else does. The Girl Scout asks questions and learns why things are done as they are. She may think out a better way some day, but first she must pay attention to the old way. Sing at your work; it goes better so. Besides, joy belongs with housekeeping and your song helps to keep her there. Always sing if the work drags, but let it be a lively song! Making Things Clean and Keeping Clean Making things clean is a most important duty of the Keeper of the House. But don't forget, Girl Scout, that keeping things clean is a constant duty. You know many a body who "cleans up" with a lot of stir once in a while, but who litters and spills and spreads dirt and lets dust collect in corners all the rest of the time. "Keeping clean" is the housekeeper's regular business, and "cleaning up" never need stir up the whole house. For keeping clean, soap and water must always be had. The soap loves to wrestle with grease. The water softens and rinses away both dirt and soap. You will use a scouring soap or powder to clean stained or dirty metal or glass; and you should cover water-closets and other out-of-door places for refuse with clean slaked lime now and then to keep them clean. Ten Ways of Removing Stains 1. When you have _raspberry_ or _blueberry_ or _strawberry_ stains on your white handkerchief or blouse or skirt, do not be too much disturbed. Hold the stained part firmly over an empty bowl, with the spot well in the centre, and ask some one to pour boiling hot water over the spot and into the bowl. The stains will disappear like magic. Then the wet spot may be dried and pressed with a hot iron, and the damage is repaired. 2. _Peach_ stains are much harder to remove, but they should be treated just as the others were treated. Often several applications of hot water are necessary for these stubborn stains. But you must not lose patience. And you must not use soap. The stain will fade out at last under the hot water. 3. _Ink_ stains are a great bother, especially to the school girl who carries a leaky fountain pen. Do not let them get dry. They will be much harder to remove. Sometimes cold water, applied immediately, will remove the ink, if the spot is rinsed carefully. Use the cold water just as the hot water is used for the peach stain. If that does not remove it try milk. If the milk fails, let the spot soak in sour milk. Sometimes it must soak a day or two; but it will disappear in the end, with rinsing and a little rubbing. 4. _Ink_ stains on a carpet are a serious matter. Let us hope that no Girl Scout will be so unlucky as to upset an ink bottle on a friend's carpet or rug. If she does, she should know the best way to set about removing it. This should be done as quickly as possible before the ink dries, or "sets." Take cotton, or soft tissue paper or blotting paper, and absorb all that has not soaked in. You will see that the "sooner" _is_ the "better" in this case. Try not to increase the size of the spot, for you must keep the ink from spreading. Then dip fresh cotton in milk, and carefully sop the spot. Do not use the cotton when it is inky; that will smear the carpet and spread the stain. Use fresh bits of cotton, dipped in clean milk, until the stain has disappeared. Then rinse with clean water in the same way, and dry with dry cotton. 5. The _spots_ made on silk or woolen by _acids_ may be removed by touching with ammonia or baking soda, dissolved in a little water. The bright yellow spot on a black dress will sometimes run away like lightning when touched by the wet cork of the ammonia bottle. 6. _Egg stains_ on the napkin, or sometimes, unfortunately, on a dress front, must be removed before washing. Use cold water alone. The egg will dissolve and can be rinsed out. Hot water will cook the egg and it will be hard to remove. 7. _Liquid shoe blacking_ is almost worse than ink. It must be treated in the same way, _and at once_. 8. _Coffee_ and _tea stains_ will wash out with either warm water or soap and water. A black coffee stain on a fresh tablecloth may be removed like the berry stains, by the teakettle and bowl method. 9. _Grease spots_ may be removed from washable fabrics by soap and water. For silk and woolen, gasoline should be used. Use gasoline in daytime only, to avoid lamps or gas in the neighborhood; and _never_ near a fire. Use carbona instead of gasoline or benzine when possible, as it cannot burn. Remember that all grease or sugar spots should be removed before putting a woolen garment away. Moths always seek them out, and they will find them if you don't. 10. _Paint_ can be removed by soaking the spot in turpentine. This dissolves it, and a bit of rubbing shakes it out. A brush helps, when the paint spot is on a woolen garment, after the turpentine has done its work. _Remember_: All spots and stains should be removed before washing the garment. GOOD MANNERS AND SOCIAL FORMS It is easier to meet people socially if we are acquainted with the simple forms of introductions, meeting and parting, and so forth. A girl who is entertaining her friends will be more successful in doing so if she plans ahead how she can welcome them and has all the necessary preparations for a substantial good time, at hand. This planning also makes it possible for her to be less occupied when the time comes, and to have a good time herself. Stand where guests can see you at once when they enter. Always introduce a younger person _to_ an older one, as "Mrs. Smith, may I present Miss Jones, or Mr. Brown?" A man is always presented _to_ a woman, or a girl, as "Miss Brewster, may I present Mr. Duncan?" If you have many guests, ask some of your friends to join you in watching to be sure that no one is left out, so that the evening may be a success for every one. It is sometimes difficult for a hostess to do this alone. If you ask other girls to help you ask each to do a definite thing, as to arrange for wraps, sing or play, pay special attention to some older person, etc. This saves confusion, as the Pine Tree patrol does in camp. A few intimate friends need no plan to make them have a good time, but with a large number it is usually better to plan games, music, charades, or some other form of entertainment. When invited to a house at a certain time, be prompt. Promptness is always a mark of courtesy, as it means consideration for the time and convenience of others. One should also watch carefully the time of leaving, and not stay about unless specially detained. TABLE MANNERS Accept what is offered or placed before you, with a quiet "Thank you." If you are asked what you prefer, it is proper to name it. Do not drink while food is in the mouth. Take soup quietly from the side of the spoon, dipping it into the plate _from_ instead of towards you, to avoid dripping the soup. Break bread or roll, and spread with butter only the piece which you are about to eat. Use knife only as a divider, the fork to take food to the mouth. Where one can dispense with a knife, and use only the fork to divide food, do so. When not using either, lay them together across the side of the plate, not resting on the table cloth. A spoon should never be allowed to rest in a tall receptacle such as a cup or glass, as it is likely to overturn the receptacle. Place the spoon on plate or saucer. At close of meal, fold napkin, that table may be left in orderly condition. When napkins are to be washed at once, or when they are paper napkins, they need not be folded. Do not begin a course until all are served. Sometimes it is better to serve the hostess first, and sometimes it is the custom to serve the guest first, that is the guest of honor who sits on the hostess' right. When the host or hostess does the serving, the guest is served first. Do not be troubled if you use the wrong spoon or fork, and never call attention to anyone else's doing so. No matter how you feel, or what the blunder or accident may be, such as spilling something or dropping a plate, never show displeasure to either servant or guest. Good breeding and pleasant atmosphere are essential to all entertainment. Good breeding means first of all thoughtfulness of others, and nothing shows lack of breeding so quickly as a lack of such politeness to those who happen to be serving us in hotels, at home, in shops, or when travelling, or anywhere else. When acting as waitress, stand at the left of the person to be served, so that the portion may be taken with the right hand. Preparing the Meal Plan the cooking so that the food that is to be served may be kept hot; for instance, soup may be kept hot on the back of the stove or where there is less heat, while the meat or vegetables are being cooked. Food that is to be served cold, should be kept in the ice-box or standing in water until the last moment and served in chilled dishes. In placing the food on the dishes and platters care should be taken to make it look attractive. Setting the Table When setting the table keep in mind how many courses there will be, and therefore, how many knives, forks, and spoons are needed. Have everything clean, and lay everything straight. Air room well. Wipe table, and if a tablecloth is used, cover table with a felt silence cloth. If a tablecloth is used, it should be laid with the fold in the center of the table. If a centerpiece and doilies are used, they should be laid at even distances. Clean white oil cloth and paper napkins make an attractive looking table. At each cover the knife, edge in, is placed at the right with the spoon, and the glass is placed at the right in line with the end of the knife. The fork is at the left and bread and butter plate and small knife are at the left opposite the glass. Put the napkin between the knife and fork. [Illustration] Salt, pepper, water, bread and butter should be on the table, and if necessary, vinegar, mustard, sugar, pickles, etc. When possible a few flowers add to the appearance of the table. Have as much ready as possible before sitting down at the table. See at least that (1), glasses are filled; (2), butter portioned; (3), chairs placed. Hard and fast rules as to table setting do not exist. Local customs, the amount of service at hand, and common sense must govern this. The captain, assisted by the council, must be the judges. THE GIRL SCOUT COOK BY ULA M. DOW, A. M. _In charge of Division of Food, Simmons College_ The Girl Scout who has earned the Cooking Badge may be a great help at home if she has learned to work quickly and neatly and may get much amusement both at home and on camping parties. If the first trial of a process is not a success, the Scout should have patience to try again and again until her result is satisfactory. If she has learned to prepare a few simple dishes well she should have courage to try unfamiliar recipes which are found in any good cook book. If she is to be ready to take responsibility when it is necessary, she should be able to plan the meals in such a way that nothing is wasted and that the family is satisfied and well-nourished. When working in the kitchen the Scout should wear a clean, washable dress, or a washable apron which covers her dress. She should be sure that her hair is tidy, and she should remember to wash her hands before beginning work. She should try to use as few dishes as possible and not to spill or spatter. She should remember that her cooking is not finished until she has cleaned up after herself, has washed and put away the dishes, washed the dish towels and left the kitchen in order. WHAT TO HAVE FOR BREAKFAST--Breakfast is in most families the simplest meal of the day and the easiest to prepare. Some people are satisfied with fruit, cereal, toast or muffins, coffee for the adults, and milk for the children. Many families, however, like the addition of a heartier dish, such as boiled or poached eggs, fish hash, or minced meat on toast. If a hearty dish is served at breakfast this is a good time to use up such left-overs as potato, fish, or meat. SIMPLE BREAKFAST Apple sauce or sliced peaches. Oatmeal or cornmeal mush. Toast or muffins. Coffee (for adults). Milk (for children). HEARTY BREAKFAST Apple sauce or sliced peaches. Oatmeal or cornmeal mush. Toast or muffins. Coffee (for adults). Milk (for children). Poached eggs or minced lamb on toast. FRUIT--Raw fruit should be carefully washed and prepared in such a way that it can be easily eaten. Berries may be cooked with no other preparation than washing. Fruits, such as apples and pears, should be washed, pared, quartered, and cored before cooking. Any fruit which becomes dark on standing after it is cut may be kept light colored by dropping the pieces into a pan of water until they are ready to be cooked. If this is done most of the water should be drained off before they are cooked. Dried fruits, such as prunes, which have a wrinkled skin should be soaked for a short time in cold water before they are washed. Otherwise it is impossible to get them clean. After washing they should be covered with cold water and soaked over night, or until they are plump. They should be put on to cook in the water in which they are soaked and cooked until tender. Sugar should then be added if they are not sweet enough. The most common method of cooking fresh fruit is to boil it gently with just enough water to prevent it from burning. Sugar should be added just before the cooking is finished, the amount depending on the acidity of the fruit and the taste of the family. In sampling food, the cook should remember that the rest of the food is to be eaten by other people. She should never taste from the cooking spoon, but should transfer her sample to a tasting spoon which is not returned to the kettle. CEREAL--Cereals, such as oatmeal, cornmeal, and cracked wheat, should be cooked in a double boiler. A double boiler can be improvised by setting a pail or pan into a kettle of boiling water. Cereals for breakfast may be cooked the day before and reheated in the double boiler, but should not be stirred while reheating. A tablespoonful or two of cold water on top will prevent a hard skin from forming while standing. All prepared cereals are better if cooked for a longer time than the package directions indicate. It is hardly possible to cook any grain too long. The fireless cooker is especially valuable for cooking cereals, but a longer period of time must be allowed than for cooking in a double boiler. A home-made fireless cooker, described in another place, is interesting to make. Ready-to-serve cereals are very expensive compared with those cooked at home. Cracked wheat, 1/4 cup to 1 cup water; 3-12 hours. Rolled oats, 1/2 cup to 1 cup water; 1/2-3 hours Cornmeal, 3 tablespoonfuls to 1 cup water; 1-4 hours. Use 1/2 teaspoonful of salt to each quart of water. Have the water boiling rapidly. Add the cereal gradually. Let the mixture cook directly over the fire 5 minutes. Place over boiling water or in the fireless cooker to cook slowly for a long time. Keep covered and do not stir. The time of cooking given in the table means that the cereal is eatable after the shorter time mentioned, but is better if cooked the longer time. TOAST--Good toast is worth knowing how to make. The cook should not be satisfied with toast which is either white or burned. Toast is most easily made from stale bread, which should be cut in one-third to one-half inch slices. A single slice of toast may be made by holding it over the fire on a fork. In camp a forked stick answers every purpose. The easiest way to make several slices is to put them in a wire toaster and hold them over hot coals. Begin carefully and hold the bread some distance away from the fire, turning it often until it dries. Then hold it nearer the coals until it a golden brown on both sides. With a new coal fire or wood fire toast must be made on a toaster on the top of the stove to prevent the bread from being smoked. If the top of the stove is being used for other things, the drying may be done in the oven. MUFFINS--Any good cook book has numerous recipes for muffins, most of which, can be made easily if the directions are followed exactly. Cornmeal Muffins (for four persons): Four tablespoonfuls butter or oleomargarine, 3 tablespoonfuls sugar, 1 egg, 1 cup milk, 1-1/3 cups flour, 2/3 cup cornmeal, 3 teaspoonfuls baking powder. Cream the butter, add the sugar and the egg well beaten. Sift the baking powder with the flour and cornmeal and add to the first mixture, alternating with milk. Bake in buttered muffin pan 25 to 30 minutes. This mixture makes good corn bread if baked in a shallow buttered pan. COFFEE--If the family drink coffee, they will want coffee for breakfast no matter what other items of the menu may be varied. It should be served only to the grown-up members of the family. Coffee of average strength is made as follows: One-half cup coffee finely ground, 4 cups cold water, 2 eggshells. Mix the coffee, the crushed eggshell, and 1/2 cupful of cold water in a scalded coffee pot. Add the remainder of the water and allow the mixture to come gradually to the boiling point. Boil 3 minutes. Draw to the back of the range and keep hot for 5 minutes. Add 1/8 cupful of cold water and let stand 1 minute to settle. Strain into a heated coffee pot in which the coffee is to be served at the table. A method for making coffee used by the guides in the White Mountains is as follows: Boil the water in an ordinary pail, remove the pail from the fire, pour the dry coffee gently on the top of the water, cover tightly and move it near the fire where it will keep warm but will not boil again. In about thirty minutes the coffee will have become moistened and sunk to the bottom of the pail. If the coffee is slow in becoming moist, time may be saved by removing the cover for a moment and pressing gently with a spoon on the top of the coffee, but the mixture must not be stirred. It is essential that the water be boiling when the coffee is added, that the cover be absolutely tight, and that the coffee be kept hot without boiling. Half a cup of coffee to four cups of water makes coffee of average strength. MILK--The little children of the family should have whole milk at every meal. The older children should have milk at breakfast and supper time. There is no food so good for children who want to be well and strong. A part of the family supply of milk is sometimes skimmed to give cream for use in coffee and on desserts. The cream contains most of the fat in the milk, but the skimmed milk which is left is still a very valuable food, containing the substances which make muscle and bone, and every bit of it should be used in the cooking or for making cottage cheese. The waste of milk is the worst possible extravagance. EGGS--Eggs may be prepared in countless ways, and the ambitious cook will find much amusement in trying some of the suggestions in the cook books. Eggs are an entirely satisfactory substitute for meat and fish, and are therefore often served for the main dish at dinner or supper. Many people like an egg every morning for breakfast, but this is a rather extravagant habit. If eggs are served for breakfast they are usually cooked in the shell, poached or scrambled. The men of the family sometimes prefer their eggs fried, but this is not a good method for the children. Only fresh eggs can be poached successfully, so that this is a good test for freshness. _Poached Eggs_--Oil the skillet and fill it to within a half inch of the top with water. Break each egg into a saucer and let the water boil after the egg is placed in it. The egg is done when the white is jelly-like and a slight film is formed over the yolk. Remove the egg with a griddle cake turner to a piece of buttered toast. Sprinkle lightly with salt. If the eggs are not absolutely fresh, the white will scatter in the water. If the first egg to be cooked shows this tendency oiled muffin rings may be put in the pan to keep the rest of them in shape. _Soft Boiled Eggs_--A soft boiled egg has much the same consistency as a poached egg. It is easier to manage because the shell is unbroken, but it is harder to get it of just the right consistency because the contents of the egg are invisible. Most people are very particular to have the egg just hard or soft enough to suit them, and it is necessary for the cook to practice to be sure of uniform results. Drop the eggs carefully into a kettle of boiling water, draw the kettle back on the stove so that the water does not boil again and (for a soft egg) allow the eggs to remain for five minutes. If the eggs are very cold they should remain longer. USE OF LEFT-OVERS FOR BREAKFAST--If the family likes a hearty breakfast this is a good meal at which to use bits of left-over meat which might otherwise be wasted. Meat may be chopped or ground, reheated in the gravy which was served with it, and served on toast. Lamb is especially good minced on toast. To make hash mix equal quantities of meat and chopped potato and brown nicely in a greased frying pan. Such mixtures should be tasted to make sure that they are salted enough. Some people like a very small amount of onion with any of these made-over meat dishes. DINNER WHAT TO HAVE FOR DINNER--If all the members of the family are at home at noontime it is usually more convenient to have dinner then, but if members of the family are away or hurried at noontime it may be better to have dinner at night. Dinner may consist of several courses, but if the mother or the daughter of the family prepares the meal, the family is usually perfectly satisfied with two courses. The main course of a simple family dinner consists of meat, fish, eggs or a cheese dish served with potato, rice or macaroni, and a vegetable such as string beans, green peas, carrots, cabbage, tomatoes or corn. If the family likes salad, the vegetables are often served as a salad. This is a very good way to use up small amounts of vegetables which are left from the day before. Often little remainders of two or more vegetables may be very attractively combined in this way. Some families like hot bread at dinner, and hot breads, such as baking powder biscuit (described under supper), or corn bread (described under breakfast), are particularly good with some combinations. Examples are baking powder biscuit with meat stew or fricasseed chicken and corn bread with bacon and eggs or ham. If fish is served in a chowder, buttered and toasted crackers are usually served. An occasional chowder for dinner is an excellent way to use up any surplus of skimmed milk which may be on hand. The kind of dessert served at dinner, besides depending on the taste of the family, depends on the amount of money which is spent for food and whether there are young children in the family. Pie and ice cream, which are favorite desserts in many families, are expensive. Little children should not have desserts which contain a good deal of fat, such as pie or doughnuts, or which are the least bit soggy, as some steamed puddings are inclined to be. The most economical desserts and those best suited to the children are baked puddings made with milk and cereal, such as Indian pudding, rice pudding, and those made with cereal and fruit, such as Apple Betty or peach tapioca. If there is skimmed milk on hand the possibility of using it in a milk pudding should be considered. Chocolate bread pudding and Apple Betty made a very attractive use of left-over bread. Dessert should always be chosen with reference to the heartiness of the first course. A main dish which is not very filling can be balanced by a more substantial dessert. SIMPLE DINNERS: 1. Hamburg steak. Baked potato. Squash or baked tomatoes. Apple Betty. 2. Roast chicken or roast lamb with dressing and currant jelly. Mashed potato and gravy. Peas or string beans. Orange jelly and whipped cream. MEAT--The best way to learn about cuts of meat is to go often to market and talk to the butcher whenever he has a minute to spare. Some cuts of meat are tough with coarse fibers and much connective tissue. They should be ground if, like Hamburg steak, they are to be cooked by a short process, such as broiling. If not ground, the tougher meats are usually cooked a long time with water and made into a stew, a pot roast, a meat pie, or a meat loaf. These cuts are cheaper, but require more care in preparation than the more expensive cuts. Examples are the bottom of the round, the shin, and the flank of beef. The more expensive cuts, such as the top of the round, tenderloin and sirloin, are more tender, more delicately flavored, and are used for broiling and roasting. Some cuts which seem inexpensive really cost more than they appear to because they contain large amounts of bone or waste fat. The difference between lamb and mutton is a question of the age at which the animal was slaughtered. Lamb is much more tender than mutton, is more delicately flavored and more expensive. There is a similar difference between chicken and fowl. Fowl is much tougher than chicken and requires careful and long cooking to make it tender. _Pan Broiled Hamburg Steak_--Hamburg steak may be bought already ground at the butcher's, or one of the cheap cuts of beef, such as bottom of the round or shin, may be bought and ground at home. Many people like a little salt pork or onion ground with the meat. Make the meat into small, flat cakes and cook in a smoking hot frying pan which has been thoroughly rubbed over with a piece of fat. When one side is seared over nicely turn the cakes (a griddle cake turner or spatula is helpful) and broil on the other side. Place on a hot platter, sprinkle with salt and pepper, dot with bits of butter and garnish with a little parsley or watercress. A rump or sirloin steak may be broiled in a hot frying pan in a similar way. Wipe and trim the steak, place in a smoking hot frying pan and sear both sides. Reduce the heat and turn the steak occasionally (about every 2 minutes) until it is cooked, allowing 8 minutes for a rare steak, 10 minutes for medium cooked steak, and 12 minutes for well done steak, for a steak 1 inch thick. Avoid puncturing the meat with a fork while cooking. Many people prefer to broil a steak on a broiler. This is practical with gas or electricity or over a wood or coal fire which is reduced to clear coals without smoke or flame. It is very difficult indeed to cook Hamburg steak on a broiler. Lamb chops may be broiled in either way. _Roast Leg of Lamb_--Wash the leg of lamb, place it on the rack in a roasting pan and put in a hot oven with the roaster uncovered. When the roast is well seared (15 to 30 minutes), draw from the oven, sprinkle with salt, pour a little water into the pan, and put on the cover. Finish cooking at a lowered temperature, allowing 20 or 25 minutes for each pound. A dripping pan may be used in place of a roaster, using a pan of similar size for a cover. A rack may be improvised from a broiler, a toaster or a cake rack. Beef is roasted in the same way, but is usually cooked for a shorter time (15 to 20 minutes for each pound). BEEF STEW (for four): 2-1/2 pounds beef shoulder or shin. 2 cups diced potato. 1/3 cup turnip cut in half inch cubes. 1/3 cup carrot cut in half inch cubes. 1/4 onion chopped. 2 tablespoons flour. Salt and pepper. Wash the meat, remove from the bone and fat and cut in 1-1/2 inch cubes. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and dredge with flour. Sear the pieces of meat in the frying pan in the fat cooked out from the trimmings of fat. Put the meat in a kettle, and rinse the frying pan with boiling water, so that none of the juices will be lost. Add the bone, cover with boiling water and boil five minutes. Lower the temperature and cook until the meat is tender (about three hours). Add the carrots, turnips, onions, pepper and salt in an hour, and the potato in 15 minutes before the steak is to be served. Remove the bone and any large pieces of fat. Stir two tablespoons of flour to a smooth paste with a little water and thicken the stew. Such a stew may also be made with lamb, mutton, or veal, using other vegetables as desired. Celery and onion are better than turnip and carrot with veal. CHICKEN--If a chicken is purchased at the market it is usually delivered dressed. This means that the head has been cut off, the entrails removed, and the coarser pinfeathers pulled out. Many times, however, it is necessary to know how to do this oneself. _To Dress and Clean a Chicken_--Cut off the head and draw out the pinfeathers. Remove hair and down by holding the fowl over a flame (a gas flame, an alcohol flame, or a piece of paper flaming in the wood or coal range), constantly changing the position until all parts of the surface have been exposed to the flame. Cut off the feet. Wash the fowl thoroughly, using a small brush, in water to which a little soda has been added. Rinse and dry. Make a slit down the back of the neck. Remove the crop and windpipe. Draw down the neck skin long enough to fasten under the back. Make a straight cut from 1/2 inch below the tip of the breastbone to the vent. Cut around the vent. Slip fingers in carefully around and fully loosen the entrails. Carefully draw out the entrails. The lungs, lying in the cavities under the breast, and the kidneys, in the hollow near the end of the backbone, must be taken out separately. Remove the oil sack and wash the chicken by allowing cold water to run through it. To clean giblets (the gizzard, the heart, and the liver) proceed as follows: Separate the gall bladder from the liver, cutting off any portion of the liver that may have a greenish tinge. Remove the thin membrane, the arteries, the veins and the clotted blood around the heart. Cut the fat and the membranes from the gizzard. Make a gash through the thickest part of the gizzard as far as the inner lining, being careful not to pierce it. Remove the inner sack and discard. Wash the gizzard carefully and boil in water to use for giblet sauce. If the chicken comes from the market dressed it should be washed carefully and any pinfeathers removed which were overlooked by the market man. _To Stuff, Truss and Roast a Chicken_--When the chicken is clean and prepared as directed, fill it with stuffing (described later), a little in the opening at the neck, the rest in the body cavity. Sew up the opening with a few long stitches. Draw the skin of the neck smoothly down and under the back, press the wings close against the body and fold the pinions under, so that they will cross the back and hold down the skin of the neck. Press the legs close to the body. Thread the trussing needle with white twine, using it double. Press the needle through the wing at the middle joint, pass it through the skin of the neck and back, and out again at the middle joint of the other wing. Return the needle through the bend of the leg at the second joint, through the body, and out at the same point on the other side; draw the cord tight and tie it with the end at the wing joint. Thread the needle again and run it through the legs and body at the thigh bone and back at the ends of the drumsticks. Draw the drumstick bones close together, covering the opening made for drawing the chicken and tie the ends. Have both knots on the same side of the chicken. When cooked, cut the cord on the opposite side and draw out by the knots. Lay the stuffed and trussed chicken on its back on a rack in a roasting pan. Lay a strip of salt pork on breast. Place in a hot oven until the chicken begins to brown, then lower the temperature and cook the chicken until very tender. Baste often with the drippings in the pan. From 3 to 4 hours will be required for a five-pound chicken. If a fowl is used it should be steamed for 3 or 4 hours and then roasted for 1/2 hour. _Stuffing_--For a large chicken mix thoroughly 4 cups of finely broken stale bread, 1-1/2 teaspoon of salt, 1/8 teaspoon of pepper, 1 teaspoon of poultry dressing and 4 tablespoons of fat. Pour over the mixture hot milk or water, stirring lightly until the mixture is moist. _Giblet Gravy_--If the chicken was properly roasted the drippings in the pan should be nicely browned, but not burned. Make a gravy from these drippings and the water in which the giblets were boiled. To do this pour the water into the pan, set the pan over the fire and stir until the contents of the pan are dissolved. Thicken with a smooth paste of flour and water, using two tablespoons of flour for every cup of liquid. Boil until the flour tastes cooked. Strain. Add the giblets cut in small pieces. VEGETABLES--All vegetables should be clean, crisp and firm when ready for cooking. Vegetables are prepared and cooked in a variety of ways, but almost all vegetables should be carefully washed as the first process. It is convenient to keep a small brush for washing the vegetables, like potatoes, sweet potatoes, and beets, which must be scrubbed to get them clean. Vegetables which are to be eaten raw, such as lettuce and celery, should be washed with special care, wrapped in a clean, wet cloth and put in the ice box to keep them crisp. _Baked Potato_--Select smooth potatoes of even size. Scrub them carefully and bake them in a hot oven. The time required is from 45 to 60 minutes, depending on the size of the potatoes and the temperature of the oven. When the potatoes are done, slash each one with a knife to let the steam escape, and serve immediately. _Mashed Potato_--Wash the potatoes, pare, cover with boiling salted water (1 level teaspoon of salt to a pint of water), and cook until tender (30 to 45 minutes). Drain off the water and return to the fire a moment to dry. Mash the potatoes, add butter, salt, pepper and hot milk, and beat vigorously until light and creamy. For three cups of potato use 2 tablespoons of butter and 4 tablespoons of hot milk. Pile lightly in a hot dish and serve immediately. _Steamed Squash_--Wash and cut in one-inch slices. Steam until tender, scrape from the shell, mash thoroughly, season with salt, pepper and butter, and serve. _String Beans_--Snap the ends from the beans, remove any strings, cut into short pieces, wash, cover with boiling salted water (1 level teaspoon to a pint) and cook until tender. The time required will vary from one hour to three hours, depending on the age and kind of bean. Drain the beans, season with salt and butter, and serve. Canned string beans should be rinsed, reheated in as little water as possible, drained, and seasoned. _Baked Tomatoes_--Select smooth tomatoes of even size. Wash the tomatoes, cut a thin slice from the stem end and remove a spoonful of pulp. Sprinkle with salt, pepper and scraped onion, fill the cavity with buttered crumbs, place in a pan (preferably one which can be used as a serving dish at the table), and bake in a moderate oven until the tomatoes are tender. Serve in the dish in which they were cooked or remove them carefully to the platter on which the Hamburg steak is being served, arranging them in a ring around the meat. The buttered crumbs are prepared by melting a tablespoon of butter or oleomargarine and stirring in six tablespoonfuls of dry bread crumbs. DESSERTS--Most desserts are easy to make if the directions given in the cook books are followed exactly. Many people take pride in making delicious cake or pie, who are careless about making good toast or baking a potato well. _Apple Betty_--Prepare well-sweetened apple sauce and thin slices of lightly buttered bread cut in small triangles. Fill a shallow baking dish with alternate layers of apple sauce and toast, beginning with apple sauce and ending with toast. Sprinkle lightly with sugar and cinnamon and heat in the oven. Serve with cream. _Orange Jelly_--Swell 1-1/2 tablespoons of powdered gelatin in half cupful of cold water. Mix 1 cupful of orange juice, 1/4 cupful of lemon juice, 1/2 cupful of sugar and 1-1/4 cupfuls of boiling water. Add the gelatin and stir carefully until it is dissolved. Strain into a wet mould and chill until the jelly is firm. Unmould the jelly and serve with whipped cream or a custard sauce. To unmould the jelly, run the point of a knife around the edge of the mould, dip the mould quickly in warm water, place an inverted serving plate on top of the mould, turn both over and lift the mould carefully. SUPPER OR LUNCH WHAT TO HAVE FOR SUPPER.--Supper shows more variation between families than other meals of the day. Some men insist upon meat, even though meat is served for their dinner, but this is rather extravagant unless there is left-over meat which should be used. Hash and minced lamb on toast, which were suggested for the hearty breakfast, would be equally well liked by most families for supper. Many families prefer for supper some milk dish such as macaroni and cheese or a cream soup served with either stewed or fresh fruit or followed by a fruit or vegetable salad. Hot rolls or baking powder biscuits are a very attractive substitute for plain bread if someone has time to make them at the last minute. If the mother and daughter do all the work of the family, they usually like to have on hand cookies or cake, which can be used for supper rather than to have to prepare some special dessert. Cold meat has the advantage that it is ready to serve with little preparation, but many other dishes such as the macaroni and cheese and the creamed soup, suggested in the menus, may be made when dinner is being prepared and simply reheated for supper. A hot drink at night usually seems desirable except on hot days in the summer. If tea is served for adults, the children should have cocoa or milk. If dinner is served at night, luncheon is served in the middle of the day. The suggestions made in regard to supper apply equally well to luncheon. Little children should have their hearty meal in the middle of the day and a light meal at night no matter what arrangement of meals the rest of the family may have. SIMPLE SUPPERS 1. Macaroni and cheese or cold meat Stewed or fresh fruit Cookies Bread and butter Tea (for adults) Milk or cocoa (for children) 2. Cream of potato soup Vegetable or fruit salad Baking powder biscuit Tea (for adults) Milk or cocoa (for children). _Macaroni and Cheese._--For macaroni and cheese the macaroni must be cooked and white sauce prepared. Break three-quarters of a cup of macaroni in inch pieces and cook in two quarts of boiling water to which a tablespoon of salt has been added. The water must be boiling rapidly when the macaroni is added and must be kept boiling constantly. When the macaroni is tender, drain it in a strainer and run enough cold water through it to prevent the pieces from sticking together. To prepare the sauce, melt two tablespoons of butter or oleomargarine in the top of a double boiler, stir in two tablespoons of flour and a half teaspoon of salt and pour over the mixture a cup and a half of cold milk. Cook this mixture directly over the heat, stirring constantly until it begins to thicken. Then place the dish over the lower part of the double boiler, containing boiling water, and let it continue cooking for fifteen minutes. Put a layer of the boiled macaroni in a buttered baking dish and sprinkle with cheese, either grated or cut into small pieces. Pour on a layer of the sauce. Follow this by layers of macaroni, cheese and sauce until the dish is full. Cover with buttered crumbs and bake until the crumbs are brown. To make the buttered crumbs, melt one tablespoon of butter or oleomargarine and stir in six tablespoons of crumbs. The macaroni and cheese may be prepared in the morning if desired and baked at supper time in a moderate oven. It should be left in the oven long enough to become thoroughly hot. If there are little children in the family a dish of creamed macaroni should be made for them without the cheese. _Cream of Potato Soup_-- 3 potatoes 1 quart milk 2 slices of onion 3 tablespoons flour 1-1/2 teaspoons salt 1/4 teaspoon celery salt 1/8 teaspoon pepper 2 tbsp. butter or oleomargarine Cook the potatoes in boiling salted water. When soft rub through a sieve. Scald the milk with the onion in a double boiler, remove the onion, unless the family likes it left in, add the salt, celery salt and pepper. Melt the butter in a small sauce pan, stir the flour into it and then add this mixture to the hot milk, stirring briskly. Cook for ten minutes over boiling water in the double boiler. A good creamed soup may be made from almost any vegetable, substituting vegetable pulp for the potato. Celery soup and corn soup are very good. With these and most other vegetables, the celery salt should be omitted. Onion salt is very useful. Creamed soups are very good made from skimmed milk if there is a supply in the house which should be used. SALAD--The pleasure in a salad is in its crispness, attractiveness or arrangement, and pleasant combination of flavors. A salad may be arranged in a large dish and served at the table if it is the chief dish of the meal, such as chicken salad or fish salad, but it is usually arranged in individual portions and made to look as dainty and pretty as possible. All fresh vegetables and fruits used should be crisp and cold and thoroughly washed. Canned or leftover vegetables or fruit may often be used. _To wash lettuce._--Handle delicately. Remove leaf by leaf from the stalk, examining for insects. Pass the leaves backwards and forwards through clean water until all sand is removed. Fold in a wet cloth and keep in the ice-box until it is used. The lettuce leaves should be dried when they are used. _French Dressing._--Mix 3/4 teaspoon of sugar, 1 teaspoon of salt and 1/2 teaspoon of paprika. Add oil and vinegar alternately, beating constantly with a fork until 5 tablespoons of vinegar and 10 tablespoons of oil have been used. A quick way to make French dressing is to mix all the ingredients in a bottle with a tightly fitting stopper and shake vigorously until the ingredients are blended. Some persons prefer less vinegar, and reduce the amount to 2-1/2 tablespoons vinegar to 10 of oil. _Cooked Salad Dressing._-- 3/4 tablespoon sugar 1/4 tablespoon butter 1 egg yolk 1/4 cup vinegar 1/4 tablespoon flour 1/8 teaspoon mustard 1/4 teaspoon salt Dash of red pepper. Heat the vinegar in the upper part of double boiler over direct heat. Sift the flour, mustard, salt and pepper thoroughly. Pour the boiling vinegar gradually upon the mixture, stirring constantly. Return to the upper part of the double boiler and cook over hot water until the mixture thickens, stirring constantly. Add the butter and remove from the fire. Chill before using. _Mayonnaise._-- 1 egg yolk 2 tablespoons lemon juice or 2 tablespoons vinegar 1/2 teaspoon mustard 2/3 teaspoon salt Dash of cayenne pepper 2/3 cup of oil (olive oil, cotton seed oil or other edible oil). Have the ingredients chilled, Place the mixing bowl in crushed ice. Mix the egg yolk, mustard, salt and cayenne pepper. Add a few drops of vinegar or lemon juice, then a teaspoon of oil, drop by drop, until all the ingredients are used. Constant beating is necessary throughout. _Fruit and Vegetable Salads._--Good combinations for salad are (1) potato and beet, (2) carrot and green peas, (3) tomato and celery, (4) asparagus and pimento. Combinations of fruit and vegetables are, (1) apple and celery, (2) orange and green pepper. Combinations of different kinds of fruit and nuts or cheese are especially good. Examples are, (1) pineapple and orange, (2) white cherries stuffed with nuts, (3) banana rolled in chopped nuts or (4) half pears (cooked or raw) with a ball of cream cheese and chopped nuts in the cavity made by the removal of the core. Magazines which devote a page to cooking usually have in their summer numbers pictures of salads from which suggestions in regard to arrangement may be taken. _Baking Powder Biscuit._-- 2 cups flour 4 teaspoons baking powder 1 teaspoon salt 3 tablespoons shortening 3/4 to 1 cup milk or milk and water. Sift the flour, baking powder and salt, twice. Put in the shortening, then add the milk gradually, mixing with a knife. The dough should be as soft as can be handled without sticking. Turn onto a lightly floured board, roll lightly 3/4 inch thick and cut with a floured cutter. Bake in a hot oven 12 or 15 minutes. _Tea._--People who like tea have very decided ideas about how strong is should be and how long it should be steeped. The following gives tea of moderate strength. Scald the teapot and put in 4 teaspoonfuls of tea leaves. Pour over them four cups of boiling water, cover and steep 3 minutes. Strain into a teapot and serve at once. _Cocoa._--The children of the family should never have tea. On a cold night cocoa is a very pleasant variant from the usual glass of milk. Mix 4 tablespoons of cocoa with 3 tablespoons of sugar and a little salt. Add 1 cup of boiling water and cook until the mixture is smooth and glossy. Add a quart of milk and heat to boiling. This may be done more safely in a double boiler. Just before serving beat with an egg beater. General Suggestions If the Girl Scout who is preparing for her examination will look back over the menus which have been suggested, she will notice that milk is emphasized. It is absolutely essential that the children in the family shall have milk. If the family do not like milk to drink, it should be remembered that every bit which is used in cooking serves the same purpose as if it were taken from a glass, but little children do not ordinarily get enough milk unless they drink some. Fruit should be served at least once a day and better twice, and some vegetable other than potato should be not only served but eaten by the family. Children who are not taught to like vegetables when they are little sometimes never learn to like them, and it is really important to eat vegetables, not only because they contain important substances for growth, but because it is only good manners to learn to like all the ordinary foods which are served. Anyone who has cooked knows how discouraging it is to feel that some member of the family does not like the food. There is a temptation in the city where fruit, vegetables and milk are high, to use too much meat and but little of these foods. It has been suggested recently that in forming an idea as to whether the money is being spent to the most advantage, the money spent for fruit and vegetables, for milk and cheese, and for meat and fish should be compared. In a well-balanced diet these amounts should be nearly equal. An increasing number of people are becoming lacto-vegetarians, which means that they eat no meat or fish, but balance their absence by using more milk, eggs and cheese. Before starting to prepare a meal the Scout should not only have her menu in mind, but should have an idea how long it will take to prepare each dish so that everything will be ready to serve at the same time with all the hot dishes very hot and all the cold dishes very cold. If all the dishes of the meal require about the same length of time in their preparation the ones should be started first which can be most easily kept in good condition. Enjoyment of a meal depends quite as much on neat and comfortable service as it does upon good food. The table cloth, napkins, dishes and silver should be clean and the dishes should be arranged so that there is as little danger as possible of accident. This is the reason, for example, for the rule that a spoon should never be left in a coffee or tea cup. This arrangement is usually more comfortable if nothing is placed on the table which is not going to be actually used at the meal, except that a few flowers or a little dish of ferns in the center of the table is very much liked by most people, if there is room for it. It often happens that the family see more of each other at meal times than at any other time in the day and everyone should try to make meal time a pleasant, restful, good-humored time. HOUSEHOLD WEIGHTS AND MEASURES The careful housewife soon becomes skilled in weighing and measuring the various goods she buys and uses. At the store she is on guard against short measures, and if she does not market in person, she has machines at home to test what is delivered. The following table is given for frequent reference use by the Girl Scout while earning her badges in Homecraft. She will also find it useful in learning to judge weights and distances for her First Class test. TABLE OF HOUSEHOLD WEIGHTS AND MEASURES (_Reprinted by permission of publisher from "Housewifery," by L. Ray Balderston, M. A._ J. B. Lippincott, 1919) _Linear Measure:_ 12 inches = l foot 3 feet = 1 yard 5-1/2 yards = 1 rod 320 rods = 1 mile 1760 yards = 1 mile 5280 feet = 1 mile _Square Measure:_ 144 square inches = 1 square foot 9 square feet = 1 square yard 30-1/4 square yards = 1 square rod 160 square rods = 1 acre 1 square mile = 1 section 36 square miles = 1 township _Avoirdupois Weight:_ 27.3 grains = 1 dram 16 drams = 1 ounce (oz.) 16 ounces = 1 pound (lb.) 100 pounds = 1 cwt. (hundredweight) 2,000 pounds = 1 ton _Liquid Measure:_ 4 gills = 1 pint 2 pints = 1 quart 4 quarts = 1 gallon 31-1/2 gallons = 1 bbl. _Dry Measure:_ 2 pints = 1 quart 8 quarts = 1 peck 4 pecks = 1 bushel 105 dry quarts = 1 bbl. (fruit, vegetables, etc.) _Miscellaneous Household Measures:_ 4 saltspoonfuls = 1 teaspoonful 3 teaspoonfuls = 1 tablespoonful 16 tablespoonfuls = 1 cupful 2 gills = 1 cupful 2 cupfuls = 1 pint 1 cupful = 8 fluid ounces 32 tablespoonfuls = 1 lb. butter 2 cups of butter = 1 lb. 1 lb. butter = 40 butter balls 4 cups flour = 1 lb. 2 cups sugar = 1 lb. 5 cups coffee = 1 lb. 1 lb. coffee = 40 cups of liquid coffee 1-7/8 cups rice = 1 lb. 2-2/3 cups oatmeal = 1 lb. 2-2/3 cups cornmeal = 1 lb. 1 cup of liquid to 3 cups of flour = a dough 1 cup of liquid to 2 cups of flour = a thick batter 1 cup of liquid to 1 cup of flour = a thin batter 1 teaspoonful soda to 1 pint sour milk 1 teaspoonful soda to one cup of molasses 1 teaspoonful cream of tartar plus 1/2 teaspoonful soda = 2 teaspoonfuls baking powder 2. THE CHILD NURSE There always are and always will be children to be taken care of. There is no way in which a girl can help her country better than by fitting herself to undertake the care of children. A Girl Scout thinks for herself, and knowing the Health Laws, she knows the important things to consider in caring for children: 1. The care necessary for the child's bones. 2. When it should exercise its muscles. 3. Its rest. 4. The air, sun and food and water which it needs. 5. How to keep it clean. _Bones_--Great care must be taken in handling a baby. Its bones are soft and easily injured, and for this reason a baby should not be handled more than necessary. When very young its entire spine should be supported, and no undue pressure made upon the chest, as often happens if the baby is grasped under the arms. In lifting a young baby from its bed, the right hand should grasp the clothing below the feet, and the left hand should be slipped beneath the infant's body to its head. It is then raised upon the left arm. An older child should be lifted by placing the hands under the child's arms, and never by the wrists. If children are jerked or lifted by the arms, serious injury may be done to the bones. The bones, when a child is growing, are partly composed of soft tissue which is easily destroyed, and further growth is prevented. Many children are brought to the hospitals with injuries done to their arms from being jerked across the street. Do not let a child walk too soon, especially a heavy child. Bow legs and knock knees come from standing and walking when the bones are soft. _Exercise_--At least twice a day an infant should be allowed for fifteen or twenty minutes the free use of its limbs by permitting it to lie upon a bed in a warm room, with all clothing except the shirt and diaper removed. In cold weather leave on the stockings. Later, when in short clothes, the baby may be put upon a thick blanket or quilt, laid upon the floor, and be allowed to tumble at will. _Rest_--Healthy children never sleep too much. A new born baby should sleep nine-tenths of the day. A child should have a nap during the day until four years old, and, if possible, until seven or eight years old. It should go to bed before six. It should have a crib or bed to itself, placed where it will have fresh air, but protected from draughts, and its eyes protected from direct rays of light. _Air and Sun_--A little child is in its room so much it is very important that fresh air and sunlight should be brought to it there. Rooms may be well aired twice or three times a day, removing the baby to another room while the windows are open. The child may be placed in its crib or carriage before on open window, dressed as if for the street. After children are three months old they may be taken out, but the sunny part of the day should be chosen, between 10 a. m. and 3 p. m. in cold weather. At night the windows should be partly opened, but care should be taken that the infant does not become chilled. Be careful that sheet and blankets do not get over a baby's head. The clothes may be pinned to the side of the bed. _Food and Water_--Even little babies should be given water twice a day. The water should be boiled, cooled and kept covered. It is hardly possible for children or older persons to drink too much water. During hot weather a child needs more water than during cold weather. Mother's milk is the only perfect food for an infant during the first nine or ten months. If it is necessary to give artificial food from a bottle, the greatest possible care must be taken. The milk used should be the best obtainable. To obtain clean milk it is necessary that everything that touches it be clean, sterilized when possible, and that the cows, and men who handle the milk be healthy. In New York City all milk is classified according to its cleanliness and butter fat content. The cleanest and richest milk is called "certified milk" and is sold raw. The other milks are classified according to cleanliness. Grade A, B and C are all pasteurized. Only certified and Grade A should be used for infant feeding. You know that sterile means free from germs or bacteria. Milk or water may be made comparatively sterile by boiling. Pasteurized milk is milk which has been heated to 155° Fahrenheit, kept at that temperature for thirty minutes and cooled quickly by placing the bottles in cold running water. Punctual feeding makes good digestion, and even if the baby takes an extra nap it is better to wake a healthy baby to give him his meals at regular hours than to let his digestion get out of order. Between meals a little water which has been boiled and cooled and kept covered will wash out its mouth as well as refresh the child. The average infant is fed every three hours until it is five months old. After that it is fed every four hours until it is fifteen or sixteen months old, when it is shifted to three meals a day with perhaps a cup of milk in long intervals. Solid food, such as zwieback and milk or cereal, is begun at seven months, and by thirteen or fourteen months the child will be eating cereal, bread, broth, beef juice, potato, rice, vegetables, etc. Candy is harmful for children, and even older children should eat candy only after meals. Raw fruit, except orange juice, is apt to be upsetting in summer. Keep the baby and everything around him clean. The baby's food is the most important thing to keep clean. The cleanliness of the bottle, when it is necessary to feed the baby from one, is very important. Choose a bottle of fairly heavy glass with rounded bottom and wide mouth, so that it may be easily cleaned. Short rubber nipples which clip over the neck of the bottle and which can be easily turned inside out, should be selected, and discarded when they become soft, or when the openings become large enough for the milk to run in a stream instead of drop by drop. Remove the bottle from the baby's mouth as soon as empty, rinse at once in cold water and then fill with a solution of bicarbonate of soda (baking soda), about one teaspoonful to a pint of water. Before rinsing wash in hot soapsuds, using a bottle brush, rinse well in plain water, and boil for twenty minutes, placing a clean cloth in the bottom of the basin to protect the bottle from breaking. Before using new nipples they should be scrubbed inside and out and boiled for at least five minutes. After using they should be carefully rinsed in cold water and kept in a covered glass containing a solution of boric acid (one teaspoonful dissolved in a pint of boiling water), and at least once a day be turned inside out and thoroughly washed with soap and water, then rinsed. Nipples should be boiled twice a week. _Bath_--A baby should have a bath every day, not sooner than one hour after feeding. The room should be warm; if possible there should be an open fire in the room. The temperature of the water for a baby up to six months old should be 98°. Then it should gradually decrease, next temperature being 95°, until at the age of two it should range between 85° to 90°. Before a baby is undressed the person who is bathing the baby must be sure that everything needed for the bath and dressing is at hand. The hand basin or small tub of warm water, a pitcher of hot water in case it is needed, castile or ivory soap, soft wash cloths, towels, brush, powder, fresh absorbent cotton, boric acid solution, and the baby's clothes laid out in the order in which they will be needed in dressing the child, the soft flannel bandage, the diapers, the shirt, flannel petticoat, dress and shawl. For some people it is easier to handle a baby when laid on a bed or table than on one's lap, having under the child a soft bath towel or canton flannel large enough to be wrapped around it. Its nose may be cleaned with a bit of absorbent cotton rolled to a point, using a fresh piece for each nostril. To bathe the eyes use fresh pieces of absorbent cotton dipped in boric acid solution. Wash the baby's face carefully so that the water does not drip into its ears. Dry the face carefully. Wash the head gently and thoroughly with soap, being careful to rinse completely. Soap the baby's body before putting it into the bath. As a soapy little baby is difficult to hold, support him firmly all the time he is kicking and splashing, by placing the arm or hand at the baby's back between its shoulders. Wash particularly, under the arms, the creases in the back of the neck, between the legs, fingers and toes. The bath should be given quickly and the baby lifted out in the bath towel or flannel, covered and dried quickly, using a soft towel. Rub the baby very slightly. All the folds of the skin should be dried and well powdered: under the arms, behind the ears, about the neck, legs, etc. Do not put too much powder on, as it forms a paste. Dress the infant and lay it on its crib while putting away all the things used for its bath. It is perfectly proper for a baby to exercise its lungs by crying, so do not be alarmed, but be sure that its clothing is comfortable and that the child is clean. Garments worn at night should always be different from those worn during the day. The garments next to the skin should be of wool or part wool, except the diaper, which should be soft cotton, and when new, washed several times before using. Wet diapers should be rinsed in cold water and dried before using a second time; about every twenty-four hours diapers should be washed, scalded, rinsed in cold water and hung in the air to dry. Daily Routine--Child Under Two Years of Age 6.00 A.M. Feed warm milk. 7.30 A.M. Seat on chair or hold over chamber not more than ten minutes. If the child has no movement of the bowels at this time, try later. 9.00 A.M. Give bath, and immediately after, feed, then put to bed in a well ventilated room, darkened, or out of doors in carriage or crib. Be sure no strong light is in the child's eyes. Child should sleep until one o'clock. 1.00 P.M. Take up, make comfortable, and feed. 2.00 P.M. Take child out of doors again, but do not stay after 3 P.M. in winter time. Later in summer. Stormy days keep in house in crib or carriage, well wrapped up in room with window open. 3 to 5 P.M. Hold child, or let it stay in crib and play or kick. 6.00 P.M. Undress, rub with soft, dry towel, put on nightclothes, feed and put to bed in well ventilated room. 10.00 P.M. A young baby should be fed at this time, dried, and not fed again until 6. A.M. A baby needs to be kept quiet. Do not make loud noises near it. Do not play with infant too much. Leave it to itself to grow. Keep the baby clean, everything about it tidy. Do not give a child pointed toys or playthings small enough to go into the infant's mouth. Tie toys to the crib or carriage so that they do not fall on the floor. Things to Remember Emphasize "tidy as you go," sleep, water, bowel movements, exercise for older children, especially in cold weather, nothing in mouth, do not use pacifiers, tying toys to crib or carriage, a baby over two years of age should not be fed oftener than every four hours. Bowel Movements At least once a day. Should be medium soft, not loose, smooth, and when on milk diet, light in color. If child is constipated, give one teaspoonful of milk of magnesia clear, at night. See doctor if child is not well. Feedings Children from birth to five months should be fed every three hours. Children over one and a half years old need three meals a day, dinner in the middle of the day. Little children need to be kept very quiet. No confusion or loud noises around them. They will then grow better and stronger. Colds Never neglect a cold. Do not "pass it on" to a child by coughing, sneezing, talking or breathing into its face. Do not kiss anyone when you have a cold. Never allow the handkerchief used by a person with a cold to touch a child. If you must handle a child when you have a cold, wear a piece of gauze over your mouth and nose, and be sure to keep your hands clean. Be very careful with the handkerchiefs used; see that no one touches or uses them. It is preferable to use gauze or soft paper for handkerchiefs and burn them. When a child has a cold put it to bed. Keep quiet as long as there is any fever. Give a cathartic, such as castor oil, as soon as cold appears. Reduce the child's diet and give plenty of drinking water. Consult a doctor. Do not let the child go out until thoroughly well. 3. THE FIRST AIDE IN ACCIDENTS AND EMERGENCIES General Rules The sorrow and unhappiness of the world is increased enormously every year by injury and loss from accidents, more than half of which might be prevented if someone had not been careless, or if someone else had taken a little trouble to correct the results of that carelessness before they caused an accident. It therefore becomes the plain duty of Girl Scouts not only to be careful but to repair, if possible, the carelessness of others which may result in accident. Let us review briefly some of the many small things in our daily lives which cause accidents, and therefore suffering and loss. 1. _Carelessness in the Street._ As, for example, taking chances in getting across in front of a car or automobile; running from behind a car without looking to see of some vehicle is coming from another direction; catching a ride by hanging on to the rear end of cars or wagons; getting off cars before they stop; getting on or off cars in the wrong way; being too interested to watch for open manholes, cellarways, sewers, etc.; reckless roller skating in the street, throwing things like banana peels on the street or sidewalk where people are likely to slip on them; teasing dogs, or trying to catch strange ones; many dogs resent a stranger petting them and use their only means of defense--biting. Other examples will occur to you of carelessness in the streets which space does not allow us to mention here. Wait until the car stops before trying to get off. In getting off cars you should face in the direction in which the car is going. A simple rule is to get off by holding a rod with the left hand and putting the right foot down first. This brings you facing the front of the car and prevents your being swept off your feet by the momentum of the car. If you see any refuse in the street which is likely to cause an accident, either remove it yourself or report it to the proper authorities to have it removed at once. 2. _Carelessness at Home._ As for example, starting the fire with kerosene; leaving gas jets burning where curtains of clothing may be blown into the flame; leaving clothing or paper too near a fire; throwing matches you thought had been put out into paper or other material which will catch fire easily; leaving oily or greasy rags where they will easily overheat or take fire spontaneously; leaving objects on stairs and in hallways which will cause others to fall; leaving scalding water where a child may fall into it or pull it down, spilling the scalding water over himself; leaving rags or linoleum with upturned edges for someone to fall over; and innumerable other careless things which will occur to you. 3. _Disobedience_, playing with matches; building fires in improper places; playing with guns; trying the "medicines" in the closet; throwing stones; playing with the electric wires or lights; playing around railroad tracks and bridges: We could multiply the accidents from disobedience indefinitely. Remember, a caution given you not to do something means there is danger in doing it, which may bring much sorrow and suffering to yourself and others. It is a very old saying that "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure," but it is as true today as it was hundreds of years ago. After the Accident When the time for prevention is past, and the accident has happened, then you want to know what is the best thing to do, and how best to do it in order to give the most help and relief immediately, before expert help can arrive, and to have the victim in the best condition possible for the doctor when he comes, in order that he may not have to undo whatever has been done before he can begin to give the patient relief from his suffering. 1. Keep cool. The only way to do this effectually is to learn beforehand what to do and how to do it. Then you are not frightened and can do readily and with coolness whatever is necessary to be done. 2. Send at once for a doctor, if you have a messenger, in all except the minor accidents. This book will help you learn to judge of whether a doctor will be necessary. If in doubt send for a doctor anyway. 3. Prevent panic and keep the crowd, if there is one, at a distance. The patient needs fresh air to breathe, and space around him. 4. Loosen the clothing, especially any band around the neck, tight corsets or anything else that may interfere with breathing. 5. _Keep the patient flat on his back_ if the accident is at all serious, with the head slightly down if his face is pale and he is faint, or slightly raised if his face is flushed and he is breathing heavily, as though snoring. 6. _If there is vomiting_, turn the head to one side in order that the vomited material may easily run out of the mouth and not be drawn into the windpipe and produce choking to add to the difficulties already present. 7. _Remove clothing_, if necessary, gently and in such manner as to give the patient the least amount of suffering. Move any injured part as little as possible. At the same time, as a secondary consideration, injure the clothing as little as possible. If, as often, it becomes necessary to cut off the clothing, it may be possible to rip up a seam quickly instead of cutting the cloth, but saving the clothing is always secondary to the welfare of the patient. Little or no consideration should be shown for clothing where it is necessary to keep the patient motionless, or where quick action is needed. 8. _Transportation._ There are three methods for emergency transportation of accident victims which can be used according to the degree of the injury: (a) _Fireman's Lift._ If it is necessary for one person to carry a patient, it is easily possible to lift and carry quite a weight in the following manner: First, turn the patient on his face, then step astride his body, facing toward his head, and, with hands under his armpits, lift him to his knees, then clasp your hands over the patient's abdomen and lift him to his feet; then draw his left arm around your neck and hold it against the left side of your chest, the patient's left side resting against your body, and supporting him with your right arm about the waist. Then drop the patient's left hand and grasp his right wrist with your left hand and draw the right arm over your head and down upon your left chest; then stooping, clasp his right thigh with your right arm passed between the legs (or around both legs) and with a quick heave lift the patient to your shoulders and seize his right wrist with your right hand, and lastly, grasp the patient's left hand with your left hand to steady him against your body. (Work this out with a companion as you read it.) (b) A seat made of four arms and hands (which you have no doubt used in your play), may be used for the lesser injuries. If the patient can, he supports himself by putting his arms around the necks of his carriers, each of whom in the meantime grasps one of his own wrists and one of his partner's. This makes a comfortable seat for carrying. If the patient needs supporting, a back may be improvised by each carrier grasping the other's arm below the shoulder to form the back and their other hands clasped to form the seat. A better seat may be made with three hands clasping the wrists, while the fourth arm is used as a back, by one clasping the other's arm below the shoulder. This does not provide a very secure back, however, as it is not easy to hold the arm against much of a weight from the patient's body. (c) _Improvised Stretcher._ When the patient shows any sign of shock, is unconscious, has a serious fracture of some bone or bones, has a serious injury to any part of the body, or is bleeding excessively, he must be carried lying down. It may be that there will be no regular stretcher at hand. In that case one must be improvised. A serviceable one can be made from ordinary grain or flour bags by cutting the two corners at the bottom and running two poles inside the mouth of the bags and through the holes. A workable stretcher can be made from coats by turning the sleeves inside out, passing the poles through the sleeves and buttoning the coat over the poles. This brings the turned sleeves on the inside. A five-bar gate or a door, if it can be gotten without delay, also make satisfactory emergency stretchers. A stretcher may also be made out of dress skirts, with or without poles. Put the skirts together, bottoms slipped past each other, and slip the poles through, as with the bags. If no poles are available, roll the edges of the skirts over several times to form a firm edge, and carry with two or four bearers, as the size and weight of the patient make necessary. Minor Injuries and Emergencies Minor injuries may or may not need the aid of a doctor, and you must learn to use judgment as to the necessity of sending for one. We will consider these minor injuries in groups to remember them more easily. 1. (a) BRUISES; (b) STRAINS; (c) SPRAINS (a) A _Bruise_ is produced by a blow which does not break the skin, but does break the delicate walls of the capillaries and smaller veins, thus permitting the blood to flow into the surrounding tissues, producing the discoloration known as "black and blue." (b) _A Strain_ is produced by the overstretching of muscles or ligaments, or both, but not tearing them. It may or may not be accompanied by breaking of capillary walls with discoloration. Any muscle or ligament may be strained. (c) _A Sprain_ is produced by the overstretching of the muscles or ligaments or both about a _joint_. There may also be some tearing of the fibres or tearing loose from their attachments. This always breaks capillaries or small veins, making the surface black and blue. This discoloration usually appears some time after the accident, because the broken blood vessels are far below the surface. _Treatment_--For bruises and strains it is seldom necessary to call a doctor. Apply cold, either by wringing cloths out of cold water and applying, or by holding the injured part under the cold water tap. Do this at intervals of several hours, until the pain is lessened. The cold may be alternated with hot water which must, however, be quite hot, just enough not to burn, as lukewarm water is almost useless. Some patients will prefer to use only hot water. The water followed by applications of tincture of arnica, witch hazel, or alcohol and water, half and half, and bandaging will be sufficient. If, however, there has been no black and blue at first, as in a bruise, but it begins to show later, and the pain continues severe, and there is a good deal of swelling, then you should send for a doctor, as more than first aid is needed. In case of _sprain_, send for a doctor, and in the meantime elevate the joint and apply hot or cold water, or alternate hot and cold, as patient prefers. This will give relief by contracting the blood vessels. 2. (a) BURNS; (b) SCALDS; (c) SUNBURN; (d) FROSTBITE (a) _Burns_ are produced by dry heat, as a fire, acids, alkalis, etc., and may be of all degrees, from a superficial reddening of the skin to a burning of the tissues to the bone. (b) _Scalds_ are produced by moist heat, and may be of the same degrees as those produced by dry heat. (c) _Sunburn_ is produced by the sun, and is usually superficial, but may be quite severe. (d) _Frostbite_ is produced by freezing the tissues and is usually not dangerous. The more severe types will be treated later under Freezing. _Treatment_--(a) _Burns_; (b) _Scalds_ 1. Except in the minor burns and scalds, send for the doctor at once. 2. The first thing to do is allay pain by protecting the injured part from the air. 3. For a burn produced by fire, cover with a paste made of baking soda and water, or smear with grease--as lard, carron oil (mixture of linseed oil and lime water--half and half) or vaseline or calendula cerate. Cover with a piece of clean cloth or absorbent gauze and bandage loosely or tie in place. Gauze prepared with picric acid, if at hand, is a most satisfactory dressing. It can be purchased and kept on hand for emergencies. 4. In burns from alkalis or acids, wash off as quickly as possible and neutralize (make inactive the acids with baking soda, weak ammonia or soapsuds; the alkalis with vinegar or lemon juice). Afterward treat like other burns. (c) _Sunburn_ is an inflammation of the skin produced by the action of the sun's rays and may be prevented by gradually accustoming the skin to exposure to the sun. It is treated as are other minor burns. (d) _Frostbite_--_Prevention_--1. Wear sufficient clothing in cold weather and keep exposed parts, such as ears and fingers, covered. 2. Rub vigorously any part that has become cold. This brings the warm blood to the surface and prevents chilling. 3. Keep in action when exposed to the cold for any length of time. The signs of danger are sudden lack of feeling in an exposed part, and a noticeably white area. Chilblain is an example of frostbite. _Treatment_--The circulation of the blood through the frozen part must be restored gradually. This must be done by rubbing the part first with cold water, which will be slightly warmer than the frozen part, and _gradually_ warming the water until the circulation and warmth is fully restored. Then treat as a minor burn. If heat is applied suddenly it causes death of frozen parts. 3. SPLINTERS, SMALL CUTS, SCRATCHES AND PIN PRICKS None of these injuries will usually require a doctor if properly treated in the beginning. The bleeding from any of them is not sufficient to be dangerous. But whenever there is a break in the skin or mucous membrane there is danger of infection by germs, and this is what makes the first aid treatment in these cases so important. A tiny scratch is sometimes converted into a bad case of blood poisoning by not being properly treated at first. Splinters should be removed by using a needle (not a pin) which has been sterilized by passing it through a flame (the flame of a match will do if nothing better is at hand). After the splinter is out, the wound is treated like a cut or scratch. The germs which produce poisoning do not float in the air, but may be conveyed by any thing which is not sterile, as, for instance, the splinter or the instrument that did the cutting, scratching or pricking. They may be carried to the scratch by our hands, by water, or cloth used for dressings. _Treatment_--Wash your own hands thoroughly with soap and water, using a nail brush. Clean the injured part well with disinfectant, as, for instance, alcohol and water, half and half, or peroxide of hydrogen--paint the spot with iodine, and cover with sterile gauze (if this is not to be had, use a piece of clean cloth that has been recently ironed), and bandage in place. If the bleeding is severe, a little pressure with the bandage over the dressing will stop it. Use the same precautions if the wound has to be re-dressed. 4. STINGS AND BITES OF INSECTS The poison injected by the sting or bite of an insect is usually acid, and the part should be washed at once with a solution of ammonia or soda (washing soda) to neutralize the poison. Then apply a paste of soda bicarbonate (baking soda) or wet salt and bandage in place. If the sting is left in the wound it must be pulled out before beginning treatment. 5. FOREIGN BODIES IN THE (a) EYE (Cinder) (b) EAR (Insect), (c) NOSE (Button) (a) _Eye_--If a cinder, eyelash, or any tiny speck gets into the eye it causes acute pain, and in a few minutes considerable redness. _Treatment_--Do not rub the eye, as this may press the object into the tender cornea so that it can be removed only with difficulty and by a physician. First close the eye gently, pull the eyelid free of the ball, and the tears may wash out the speck. If this is not successful, close the eye, hold the lid free, and blow the nose hard. You may then be able to see the speck and remove it with a bit of clean cotton or the corner of a clean handkerchief. If the object is lodged under the lid, and the foregoing efforts do not dislodge it, proceed to turn the lid up as follows: Ask the patient to look at the floor, keeping the eyeball as stationary as possible. Take a clean wooden toothpick or slender pencil, wrapped with cotton, place on the upper lid about one-fourth of an inch from the edge, grasp the eyelashes with the other hand, give a slight push downward toward the cheek with the toothpick, a slight pull upward on the lashes and turn the lid over the toothpick. Remove the speck and slip the lid back in position. Wash the eye with boric acid solution. If you are still unable to dislodge the body, discontinue any further efforts, apply a cloth wet in cold boric acid solution and send for the doctor. Anything done to the eyes must be done with the greatest gentleness. If an acid has entered the eye, neutralize it with a weak solution of soda bicarbonate in water. If an alkali (lime) is the offending substance, neutralize by a weak vinegar solution. Follow in each case with a wash of boric acid solution. (b) _Ear_ (Insect); (c) _Button in Nose_--Foreign bodies in the ear and nose are not very common. But sometimes a child slips a button or other small object into these cavities, or an insect may crawl in. Drop in a few drops of sweet oil and if the object comes out easily, well and good. If not, do not keep on trying to extract it, for fear of greater injury. Send for the doctor. 6. IVY AND OAK POISONING There is a poison ivy (or poison oak) which is very poisonous to some people, and more or less so to all people. The poison ivy has a leaf similar to the harmless woodbine, but the leaves are grouped in threes instead of fives. The poison given off by these plants produces a severe inflammation of the skin. In the early stages it may be spread from one part of the body to another by scratching. _Treatment_--Wash the irritated surface gently with soap and water, and then apply a paste of soda bicarbonate or cover quickly with carbolated vaseline. Another remedy is fluid extract _grindelia robusta_, one dram to four ounces of water. Sugar of lead and alcohol have also been found useful. For severe cases consult a doctor, especially if the face or neck or hands are affected. 7. (a) FAINTING; (b) HEAT EXHAUSTION (a) _Fainting_ is caused by lack of blood in the brain, and usually occurs in overheated, crowded places, from fright or from overfatigue. _Symptoms_--1. The patient is very pale and partially or completely unconscious. 2. The pulse is weak and rapid. 3. The pupils of the eyes are normal. _Treatment_--1. If possible put the patient flat on his back, with the head slightly lower than the rest of the body. 2. If there is not room to do this, bend the patient over with his head between the knees until sufficient blood has returned to the brain to restore consciousness. 3. Then get the patient into the fresh air as soon as possible. 4. Keep the crowd back. 5. Loosen the clothing about the neck. 6. Apply smelling salts to the nose. 7. When the patient has recovered sufficiently to swallow, give him a glass of cold water, with one-half teaspoonful of aromatic spirits of ammonia if necessary. (b) _Heat Exhaustion_ is exhaustion or collapse due to overheating where there is not sufficient evaporation from the surface of the body to keep the temperature normal. _Symptoms_--1. The patient is usually very weak. 2. The face is pale and covered with a clammy sweat. 3. The pulse is weak and rapid. 4. The patient is usually not unconscious. _Treatment_--1. Remove the patient to a cool place and have him lie down. 2. Loosen the clothing. 3. Give him a cold drink to sip. 4. Put cold cloths on his head. 5. Send for the doctor. 6. If necessary, give stimulant as in fainting. 8. (a) CHOKING: (b) HICCOUGH (a) _Choking_--Choking is produced by something lodged in the throat, does not require artificial respiration, but a smart slap on the back to aid in dislodging whatever is blocking the air passage. It may be necessary to have the patient upside down, head lower than feet, to aid in getting out the foreign body. This is a comparatively simple matter with a child, but is not so easy with an adult. When the object is not too far down the throat it may be necessary for someone to use his fingers to pull out the offending substance to keep the patient alive until the doctor can arrive. In this case wedge the teeth apart with something to prevent biting before trying to grasp the object. (b) _Hiccough_--This is usually due to indigestion or overloading of the stomach. Holding the breath for one-half minute will usually cure it, as it holds quiet the diaphragm (the large muscular and fibrous partition between the chest and abdomen), and overcomes its involuntary contractions which are causing the hiccoughs. A scare has the same effect sometimes. If the hiccoughs still continue troublesome after these simple remedies try to cause vomiting by drinking lukewarm water, which will get rid of the offending material causing the hiccough, and relieve the distress. 9. NOSE BLEED The ordinary nose bleed will soon stop from the normal clotting of the blood and does not require treatment. (a) Keep head elevated, with patient sitting up if possible. Do not blow the nose, as this will dislodge any clot which may have formed, and the bleeding will begin again. Any tight collar around the neck should be loosened. (b) If the bleeding seems excessive, apply cloths wrung out of ice water to the back of the neck and over the nose. (c) If the bleeding still continues and is abundant, pack the nostril with a cotton or gauze plug. Pack tightly (with a blunt end of a pencil if nothing else is at hand) _and send for the doctor at once_. =Major Injuries and Emergencies= 1. (a) DISLOCATIONS; (b) FRACTURES (a) _Dislocations_--In a dislocation the head of a bone is pushed or pulled out of its socket. A person may be falling and in trying to save himself catch hold of something in such a way that he feels a sharp, sudden, severe pain, and may even feel the head of the bone slip out at the shoulder or elbow. _Symptoms_--1. When you looked at the injured part it does not look like the other side. 2. If you attempt to move it you find it will no longer move as a joint does, but is stiff. 3. There is great pain and rapid swelling usually. 4. There may or may not be black and blue spots around the joint. _Treatment_--Send for a doctor at once. While waiting for the doctor, place the patient in the easiest position possible, and apply hot or cold cloths, frequently changed, to the injured part. In dislocation of the jaw it may be necessary for someone to try to replace it before the doctor arrives. The mouth is open and the jaw fixed. The patient may even tell you he has felt the jaw slip out of its socket. Wrap your thumbs in cloth to prevent biting when the jaw snaps back in place. Place the thumbs on the tops of the lower teeth on each side, with the fingers outside, and push firmly down until the head of the bone can slip over the edge of the socket into place. As you feel the bone slipping into place, slide your thumbs out to the inner side of the cheek to prevent biting when the jaws snap together with the reducing of the dislocation. (b) _Fractures_--_Broken bones_--There are two classes of fractures: 1. _Simple_--In a simple fracture the bone is broken, but the skin is not broken; that is, there is no outward wound. 2. _Compound_--In a _compound_ fracture not only is the bone broken, but the jagged ends pierce through the skin and form an open wound. This makes it more dangerous as the possibility of infection by germs at the time of the accident, or afterward, is added to the difficulty of the fracture. _Symptoms_--As in dislocation, you should be familiar with the main symptoms of a broken bone. 1. When you look at the injured part it may or may not look like its mate on the other side. In the more severe fractures it usually does not. 2. When you try to move it you find more motion than there should be, if the bone has broken clear through; that is, there will seem to be a joint where no joint should be. 3. The least movement causes great pain. 4. The swelling is usually rapid. 5. The discoloration (black and blue) appears later; not at once, unless there is also a superficial bruise. 6. The patient is unable to move the injured part. 7. You may hear the grate of the ends of the bone when the part is moved, but you should not move the injured bone enough to hear this, especially if the limb is nearly straight; the detection of this sound should be left for the doctor. _Treatment_--Send for a doctor at once, and if it will be possible for him to arrive soon, make the patient as comfortable as possible and wait for him. However, if it will be some time before the doctor can arrive you should try to give such aid as will do no harm and will help the sufferer. You must handle the part injured and the patient with the utmost gentleness to avoid making a simple fracture into a compound one, or doing other injury, and also to give him as little additional suffering as possible. You will need to get the clothing off the part to be sure of what you are doing. Rip the clothing in a seam if possible when the fracture is in an arm or leg, but if this cannot be done, you will have to cut the material. Do not try to move the broken bone trying to get off a sleeve or other part of the clothing. With the greatest gentleness put the injured part, for instance, the arm or leg, as nearly as possible in the same position as the sound part, and hold it in that position by splints. Do not use force to do this. There is no great hurry needed to set a broken bone. The important point is to get it set right, and this may better be done after complete rest of several days, allowing for the passing of the inflammation. _The Most Important "What Not to Do Points" for Fractures Are_: 1. If there is reason to think a bone _may_ be broken try in all ways to prevent motion at _point_ of fracture lest it be made compound. 2. Do not go hunting for symptoms of fracture (such as the false point of motion or the sound "crepitus") just to be sure. 3. The best treatment is to try to immobilize the part till the doctor comes. _Splints_--Anything that is stiff and rigid may be used for splints. Shingles, boards, limbs of trees, umbrellas, heavy wire netting, etc. Flat splints are best, however. All splints should be padded, especially where they lie against a bony prominence, as for instance, the ankle or elbow joint. If the patient is wearing heavy winter clothing this may form sufficient padding. If not, then other cloth, straw or leaves may be used. Cotton batting makes excellent padding but if this is not to be had quickly, other things can be made to do to pad the first rough splints which are applied until the patient can reach a doctor or the doctor arrives on the scene of the accident. In applying splints remember they must extend beyond the next joint below and the next joint above, otherwise movement of the joint will cause movement of the broken part. The splints are tied firmly in place with handkerchiefs, strips of cloth, or bandages, tied over splints, padding and limb. Do not tie tight enough to increase the pain, but just enough to hold the splints firmly. Do not tie directly over the break. There must be an inner and outer splint for both the arms and the legs. 2. (a) SERIOUS WOUNDS; (b) SERIOUS BLEEDING Send for the doctor at once, and then stop the bleeding and keep as clean as possible till he arrives. _Dangers_--1. In any wound with a break in the skin, there is the danger of infection or blood poisoning, as you have already learned. 2. In serious wounds through the skin, flesh and blood vessels there is also the danger of severe bleeding, with the possibility of the patient's bleeding to death. _Infection_--You already know how the germs which can cause the blood poisoning get into the wound. (a) by the object that makes the wound (b) from the clothing of the patient through which the wound is made (c) from the rescuer's hands (d) from the water which has not been sterilized used in washing the wound (e) from dirty dressings, that is, dirty in the sense that they have on them germs which can get into the wound and cause infection or blood poisoning. The first two of these chances the Girl Scout will not be able to control. The last three she can to some extent prevent. _Do not wash, touch or put anything into a serious wound_ unless a doctor cannot be found. Only this sort of thing justifies running risk of infection. Otherwise just put on a sterile dressing and bandage. In reality washing wounds only satisfies the aesthetic sense of the operator without real benefit to the patient in many cases. If a wound has to be cleansed before the doctor comes use boiled water; if this cannot be had at once, use water and alcohol half and half. 1. Always wash your hands thoroughly with water, soap and a nail brush, unless there is necessity for immediate help to stop bleeding which admits of no time to clean one's hands. Be sure your nails are clean. 2. Try not to touch the wound with your hands unless it is absolutely necessary. 3. Many wounds do not have to be washed, but dressing may be applied directly. 4. Having cleansed the wound as best you can, or all that is necessary, apply sterile cloth for dressing. This may be gotten at a drug store in a sterile package ready for use immediately, and is very satisfactory. If, however, these cannot be had, remember any cloth like a folded handkerchief that has been recently washed and _ironed_ is practically sterile, especially if you unfold it carefully and apply the inside which you have not touched, to the wound. Bind the dressing on with a bandage to keep in place until the doctor arrives. (b) _Serious Bleeding_: It is important that you should learn what is serious bleeding and this will often help you to be cool under trying circumstances. As you learned in your work in minor emergencies, the bleeding from the small veins and capillaries is not usually sufficient to be dangerous, and the pressure of the dressing when put on and bandaged in place will soon stop it. It may sometimes be necessary to put more dressing outside of that already on (called re-inforcing it) and bandage again snugly. But if you have made sure first that there is no large vein or artery cut, you need not be troubled for fear there will be serious bleeding before the doctor arrives. [Illustration: Tourniquet Showing where stone for pressing against artery is placed Loop through which stick for tightening is inserted] _Bleeding from an Artery_: If an artery is cut the blood spurts out, the size of the stream depending on the size of the artery cut. This is the most serious bleeding because the heart is directly behind, pumping the blood through the artery with all its power. If it is a small artery the pressure with the finger between the cut and the heart for a few minutes will give the blood time to clot behind the finger and form a plug. This will stop the bleeding aided by pressure of the bandage. If it is a larger vessel the force in the heart muscle pumping the blood will force out any plug formed by the finger there, as the finger tires too easily. _Tourniquet_: In this case it will be necessary to put on a tourniquet to take the place of the finger until a clot can form in the vessel big enough and strong enough to prevent the force of the blood current from pushing it out. This of course can be used only on the legs or arms. A tourniquet is something put on to make pressure on a blood vessel to stop serious bleeding. There are five points to remember about a tourniquet: 1. It must be long enough to tie around the limb--a big handkerchief, towel or wide bandage. 2. There must be a pad to make the pressure over the artery greater than on the rest of the limb--a smooth stone, a darning ball, a large cork, cloth folded into a large pad or a rolled bandage. 3. The pad must be so placed that the artery lies between pad and the bone on the limb, in order that the pressure may stop the flow of blood by forcing the walls of the artery together between the pad and the bone. 4. Unless the tourniquet is put on tight enough, its application increases bleeding. It is extremely rare to find a tourniquet put on tight enough. In almost every such case removing the tourniquet will stop or partly lessen bleeding. A short stick or handle is needed, about a foot long, with which to twist the tourniquet sufficiently to stop the flow of blood. Usually it cannot be twisted tightly enough by hand alone. Tie the twisted part firmly so it will not slip, after it has been made tight enough to stop bleeding. 5. Remember, a tourniquet stops most of the circulation below it as well as in the cut artery, and must not be left in place too long for fear of injury to the rest of the limb by cutting off the circulation. _Usually it should not be left on for more than an hour._ _Bleeding from Veins_--Bleeding from the veins is not so dangerous as from an artery. The blood from the heart has to go through the little capillaries before it gets into the veins, and therefore the force of the heart muscle on the blood in the veins is not so great as in the arteries. The blood does not spurt out, but flows out as it would from a bottle tipped on its side. You have already learned what to do to stop the bleeding from the smaller veins, and that it is not serious. From the larger veins, however, it can be very serious, and it may be necessary for you to put on a tourniquet before the doctor arrives in order to save the patient's life. Almost always bleeding from a vein can be controlled by clean gauze or handkerchief pad and pressure by hand directly over the bleeding wound. Tourniquets are almost never needed in bleeding from a vein. If necessary, it is wisest to apply them in the same way as for arterial hemorrhage and stop the circulation in the whole limb. It is important to know in a general way where the blood vessels are in order to put the pad over them to stop the bleeding. Roughly speaking, the artery of the arm runs down about in a line with the inner seam of the coat. The large vein lies close beside it, carrying the blood back to the heart. The artery and vein of the leg run about in a line with the inside seam of a man's trousers. _Stimulants_--In serious bleeding of any kind do not give stimulants until the bleeding has been stopped, as the stimulants increase the force of the heart and so increase the flow of blood. After the tourniquet is on and bleeding is stopped, if the patient is very weak, he may have a teaspoonful of aromatic spirits of ammonia in half a glass of water. (a) SHOCKS; (b) APOPLEXY; (c) CONVULSIONS (a) _Shocks_--In any injury, except the slight ones, the ends of the nerves in the skin are bruised or jarred. They send this jar along the nerves to the very delicate brain. The blood is drawn from the brain into the larger blood vessels, and the result produced is called shock. If you have jammed your finger in a door sometime, perhaps you have felt a queer sick feeling and had to sit down. A cold sweat broke out all over you, and you were hardly conscious for a moment or two. This was a mild case of shock. In more severe injuries a shock to the brain may be very serious. _Symptoms of Shock_--1. The patient may or may not be unconscious, but he may take no notice of what is going on around him. 2. The face is pale and clammy. 3. The skin is cold. 4. The pulse is weak. 5. The breathing is shallow. In any serious injury the shock is liable to be severe and will need to be treated before the doctor arrives. _Treatment_--Send for the doctor if serious. 1. Lay the patient flat on his back with head low, so that the heart can more easily pump the blood back into the brain. 2. Cover warmly; if they can be gotten, put around him several hot water bottles or bricks, being extremely careful to have them covered so that they will not burn him. Persons suffering from shock are more easily burnt than usual. Do not put anything hot next him unless it can be held against your own face for a minute without feeling too hot. 3. Rub the arms and legs, toward the body, but under the covers. 4. Give stimulants only after the patient has recovered enough to swallow, and when there is no serious bleeding. _Stimulants_--Strong, hot coffee, or a half teaspoonful of aromatic spirits of ammonia in a half glass of warm water. The latter may be given if the coffee is not ready. (b) _Apoplexy_--When a person has a "stroke" of apoplexy send for the doctor at once. This condition resembles shock only in that the patient is unconscious. The blow to the delicate brain does not come from the outside along the nerves, but from the inside by the breaking of a blood vessel in the brain, letting the blood out into the brain tissue and forming a clot inside of the brain, and thus making pressure which produces the unconsciousness. _Symptoms of Apoplexy_--1. The patient is unconscious. 2. The face is usually flushed--red. 3. The skin is not cold and clammy. 4. The pulse is slow and full. 5. The breathing is snoring instead of shallow. 6. The pupils of the eye are usually unequally dilated. _Treatment_--1. Lay the patient flat on his back with head slightly raised. 2. Do not give any stimulants. 3. Wait for the doctor. (c) _Convulsions_--This condition resembles the foregoing shock and apoplexy in that the patient is unconscious. _Symptoms of Convulsions_--1. The patient is unconscious. 2. The face is usually pale at first, but not so white as in shock, and later is flushed, often even purplish. 3. The skin is not usually cold. 4. The breathing may be shallow or snoring. 5. There are twitchings of the muscles of the face and body or a twisting motion of the body. 6. The pulse may be rapid, but is usually regular. 7. The mouth may be flecked with foam. 8. The pupils of the eye may be contracted or equally dilated. _Treatment_--Convulsions come from various causes, and are always serious, therefore send for the doctor at once. 1. Put a wedge of some kind between the teeth if possible, the handle of a spoon protected by a cloth cover, or a rolled napkin does well. This is to prevent biting the tongue, which the patient is apt to do in unconsciousness with convulsive movements. 2. Lay the patient flat on his back, and prevent him from hurting himself in his twisting, but do not try to stop convulsive movement. It will do no good. 3. No stimulant is needed. (a) SUNSTROKE; (b) FREEZING (a) _Sunstroke_--Sunstroke is caused by too long exposure to excessive heat, or to the direct rays of the sun, and is much more serious than heat exhaustion, which you have already studied. _Prevention_--Do not stay out in the direct sunlight too long on a hot summer day. Wear a large hat which shades the head and face well, if obliged to be in the hot sun for any length of time. Do not wear too heavy clothing in the hot weather. Leaves or a wet sponge in the top of the hat will help to prevent sunstroke. Drink plenty of cool water between meals. _Symptoms of Sunstroke_--1. The patient is unconscious. 2. The face is red. 3. The pupils large. 4. The skin very hot and dry, with _no_ perspiration. 5. The pulse is full and slow. 6. The breathing is sighing. _Treatment_--1. Get the patient into the shade where it is as cool as possible. 2. Send for the doctor. 3. Remove the greater part of the clothing. 4. Apply cold water or ice to the head, face, chest and armpits. Often the patient recovers consciousness before the doctor arrives; give cold water to drink; never stimulants. (b) _Freezing_--This is a much more serious condition than frostbite, which you have studied, but only because more of the body is frozen and the tissues are frozen deeper. Much more care must therefore be taken to prevent bad effects after the thawing-out process. _Symptoms of Freezing_--1. The patient may or may not be unconscious. 2. The frozen parts are an intense white and are without any feeling or motion. _Treatment_--Send for the doctor at once. 1. Take the patient into a cold room. 2. Remove the clothing. 3. Rub the body with rough cloths wet in cold water. 4. Very gradually increase the warmth of the water used for rubbing. 5. Increase the temperature of the room gradually. 6. When the patient can swallow, give him stimulants. 7. When the skin becomes more normal in color and the tissues are soft, showing that the blood is once more circulating properly through the frozen flesh, cover the patient warmly with hot bottles or bricks outside of the bed clothing, or wraps, and give hot drinks. In using hot water be sure it is not too hot. Dog Bite[3] In the case of the dog bite we have a more or less extensive break in the skin and sometimes a deep wound in the flesh, through which the poison of hydrophobia, which is a living virus or animal poison, may be introduced, to be taken up slowly by the nerves themselves, reaching the central nervous system in about forty days. The slowness and method of this absorption renders the use of a ligature useless and unsafe. The treatment for dog bite is therefore as follows: _Immediate._ Send for a physician, telling him the reason. While waiting, treat as any similar wound from any cause. If the skin is not penetrated, but scratched only, apply iodine and a sterile or wet dressing. If the skin is penetrated, the treatment should be the same as for a wound made by a dirty nail: that is, a small stick, such as a match, whittled to a point, with a little cotton twisted on the point, should be dipped into tincture of iodine, and twisted down into the full depth of the wound, and then done a second time. _Subsequent._ A physician should be consulted immediately, and if there is any suspicion of the dog being sick it should be kept under observation. The body of a dog that has been killed under suspicion of rabies or hydrophobia, should be sent as soon as possible to the proper authorities. One of the greatest discoveries in medical science is the Pasteur treatment for the prevention of hydrophobia after mad dog bite, and fortunately, provision for this treatment is so widespread that practically every one in civilized regions needing it, can have it, as is well known to all physicians. The fact that the period of development of the disease is so long makes the possibility of prevention greater. It is never proper to suck a dog bite, because the merest scratch or break in the surface, even if too small to notice, will serve as a portal of entry for the living virus of rabies. _Snake Bite._ For treatment of snake bite see page 297. WATER ACCIDENTS When it is possible, Girl Scouts should learn to swim well. It is fear when suddenly thrown into the water that causes so many of the deaths by drowning, and learning to swim well takes away this fear. A Girl Scout should also learn how to prevent accidents, and how best to help the victims of accidents in the water. PREVENTION Below are five rules for preventing drowning accidents. 1. Do not change seats in a canoe or rowboat. 2. Do not rock the boat. 3. Do not go out alone in a canoe, rowboat or sailboat unless you are thoroughly competent to manage such a boat, in a sudden squall or storm. 4. Very cold water exhausts a swimmer much quicker than warm water, therefore do not take any chances on a long swim in cold water unless a boat accompanies you to pick you up in case of necessity. 5. Be careful not to go too far out when there is a strong undertow; that is, a strong current below the surface of the water flowing relentlessly out to sea. 6. Always wade upstream. RESCUE [Illustration] When a person gives up the struggle in the water, the body goes down, and then because of its buoyancy it comes to the surface and some air is expelled from the lungs, making the body less buoyant. It immediately sinks again, this time a little lower, and again comes to the surface, and more air is expelled. This process may be repeated several times, until sufficient water is taken into the stomach and lungs to overcome the buoyancy of the body and it no longer appears at the surface; but the buoyancy is barely overcome, and therefore the body will float easily. This can easily be utilized in saving the drowning person by making the water carry most of the weight of the body. To do this, place the hands on either side of the drowning person's head, and tow him floating on his back with the face above the surface of the water, while you swim on your back and keep the body away from you. Remember, if possible, to go with the current and thus save necessary strength. In some cases it may be easier and safer to grasp the drowning person by the hair instead of trying to clasp the head. EMERGENCIES _Grips_--A drowning person is always a frightened person, and is governed by a mad instinct to grab anything which subconsciously he thinks may save his life. Usually he is past any reasoning. He grabs his would-be rescuer with a death grip that is hard to break, but remember he instinctively grabs what is above the surface and will not try to grab below the shoulders. _Wrist Grip_--If the drowning person grasps the rescuer's wrists, the rescuer throws both hands above his head, which forces both low in the water, and then turns the leverage of his arms against the other's thumbs and breaks the grip. _Neck Grip_--To release a grip around the neck and shoulders from the front, immediately cover the mouth of the other with the palm of the hand, holding the nose between the first two fingers, and at the same time pull the other body toward you with the other hand, meanwhile treading water. Then take a full breath and apply your knee to the other's stomach quickly, thus forcing him to expel any air in his lungs and preventing him from getting more air by the hand on mouth and nostrils. If the grip of the drowning person does not allow use of the arms, then try to raise your arms to the level of the shoulder, thus slipping his arms to the neck and leaving your own arms free to use, as described. _Back Grip_--This strangle hold is perhaps the most difficult to break, and it is necessary to break it instantly if the rescuer is not also to be in the rescued class. Grasp the wrists of the other and push sharply back with the buttocks against the abdomen of the other, and thus make room to slip suddenly out of the encircling arms. If this is not successful, do not despair, but throw the head suddenly against the nose of the drowning person and then slip out of the grip before he recovers from his daze. It is often necessary to dive from the surface in rescuing a drowning person, and this requires practice, and should be learned thoroughly before the necessity for saving a life is presented. Remember that to dive from the surface to a depth of more than ten feet will usually require a weight in addition to the weight of the body. Carry a stone or other heavy object in diving. Then when wishing to rise to the surface, drop it and push against the bottom with the feet. This will send the swimmer to the surface in short order. In carrying a weight in the water, carry it low on the body, close to the waist line, leaving one hand and both feet free for swimming. Or if for any reason it is necessary to swim on the back, it leaves both feet free to use as propellers. ARTIFICIAL RESPIRATION If the apparently drowned person is to be saved, no time must be lost in the rescue from the water or in getting the water out of him, and breathing re-established after he is brought to land. [Illustration] If there is a messenger handy send for a doctor at once, but in the meantime lose no time in attempting restoration. The best method for getting the water out of the lungs and breathing re-established is the _Schaefer Method_, because it is the simplest, requiring only one operator and no equipment. It can be kept up alone for a long time. 1. Every moment is precious. Immediately lay the patient face downwards, with the arms extended above the head and the face to one side. In this position the water will run out and the tongue will fall forward by its own weight, and not give trouble by falling back and closing the entrance to the windpipe. Be sure there is nothing in the mouth, such as false teeth, gum, tobacco, etc. Do not put anything under the chest. Be sure there is no tight collar around the neck. 2. Kneel astride of the patient facing toward his head. 3. Place your hands on the small of the patient's back, with thumbs nearly touching and the hands on the spaces between the short ribs. 4. Bend slightly forward with arms rigid so that the weight of your body falls on the wrists, and makes a firm steady pressure downward on the patient while you count one, two, three, thus forcing any water and air out of the lungs. 5. Then relax the pressure very quickly, snatching the hand away, and counting one-two--the chest cavity enlarges and fresh air is drawn into the lungs. 6. Continue the alternate pressing and relaxing about twelve to fifteen times a minute, which empties and fills the lungs with fresh air approximately as often as he would do it naturally. It may be necessary to work for an hour or two before a gasp shows the return of natural breathing. Even then the rescuer's work is not over, as it will be necessary to fill in any gaps with artificial breathing. When natural breathing is established, aid circulation by rubbing and by wrapping him in hot blankets and putting hot bottles around him, being careful that they are protected to prevent burning the patient. If at any time it is necessary to pull the tongue forward and to hold it to prevent choking, remember to put a wedge between the teeth to prevent biting. Do not give anything liquid by mouth until the patient is conscious and can swallow readily. Aromatic Spirits of Ammonia or Spirits of Camphor may be used on a handkerchief for the patient to smell. The patient should be watched carefully for an hour or two even after he is considered out of danger. ICE RESCUE Prevention: Below are two rules for preventing ice accidents: 1. Do not skate or walk on thin ice. 2. Watch for air holes. Rescue: In trying to rescue a person who has broken through the ice, always tie a rope around your own body and have this tied to some firm object on shore. Do not try to walk out to the rescue as the ice will probably break again under the weight of your body on so small an area as the size of your feet. Always get a long board, ladder, rail or limb of a tree, and either crawl out on this, which will distribute the weight of your body over a larger surface of ice, or lie flat on your stomach and crawl out, pushing the board ahead of you so that the person in the water may reach it. If you yourself break through the ice in attempting a rescue, remember that trying to pull yourself up over the edge of the ice only breaks it more. If rescuers are near it is much wiser to support yourself on the edge of the ice and wait for rescue. After getting the person out of the water use artificial respiration if necessary and bend every effort to get the patient warm and breathing properly. ASPHYXIATION Prevention: Below are seven rules for preventing asphyxiation: 1. When coal stoves and furnaces are freshly filled with coal, coal gas may escape if the dampers are not properly regulated. See that all dampers in coal stoves and furnaces are correctly arranged before leaving them for any long time, as for the night. 2. Do not go to sleep in a house or room with a gas jet or gas stove turned low. The pressure in the pipes may change and the flame go out, or a breeze may blow out the flame leaving the gas leaking into the room. 3. Do not blow out a gas jet. 4. Be careful to turn off gas jet completely. [Illustration] 5. Report gas leaks promptly. 6. Charcoal stoves and braziers are especially dangerous from escaping gas and should not be used in sleeping rooms. 7. Do not go into unused wells or underground sewers without first lowering a lighted candle which will go out at once if the air is very impure, because of lack of oxygen to keep it burning. Rescue: 1. Remove the patient _at once_ to the fresh air. Gas is lighter than air, and therefore will not be found close to the floor and it will often be possible to crawl out when one would be overcome by the gas if he tried to walk out. For this reason it is sometimes best in trying to rescue anyone already unconscious from gas to tie the wrists together with a handkerchief, put his arms around your neck, and crawl out on all fours, dragging the insensible body with you, under your own body. If you attempt to walk out and carry the patient, cover your mouth and nose with a wet handkerchief, go very quickly, do not breathe until you reach the fresh air. 2. If there is a messenger handy, send for the doctor at once, but in the meantime if necessary, perform artificial respiration as outlined under the Schaefer System in the preceding paragraphs, until the patient is restored to normal breathing. ELECTRIC SHOCK This is caused by some part of the body coming in contact with a live electric wire. The seriousness of the shock depends on how heavy a charge of electricity the wire is carrying at the time. The patient is usually unable to release himself from the wire. The first thing to be done, if possible, is to turn off the current by means of the switch, but if this cannot be done _at once_, the patient must be rescued by pulling him away from the wire. Remember his body will easily carry the charge to yours while he is against the wire. Therefore you must "insulate" yourself--that is, put on your hands something that will not let the electricity into your body--or stand on something that will "insulate" you; for instance, rubber gloves or rubber tobacco pouches, dry silk handkerchiefs, other silk garments or newspapers used in place of gloves if necessary. Stand on a rubber mat or on _dry boards_, or glass, or in dire necessity _dry_ clothes can be used to stand on. They must not be wet as then they will carry the electric current through your body and you must also be rescued instead of rescuing. Prevention: 1. Do not touch the "third rail" of electric railways. 2. Do not catch hold of swinging wires, they may be "live wires." 3. Report broken wires to the right authorities. Treatment: 1. Get patient loose from the current. 2. Send for the doctor. 3. Lay the patient flat on his back. 4. Loosen the clothing, and perform artificial respiration according to the Schaefer method if necessary. 5. Give first aid treatment to the burns. FIRE ACCIDENTS The first thought about a fire is to get it put out before it spreads any further. There are methods which will do this work effectually and Girl Scouts should learn these methods beforehand thoroughly, in order that when the emergency arises they may act quickly, coolly and effectively. FIRE IN CLOTHING If this happens in your own clothing, do not run for help, as the draft made by the motion of your body will only fan the flames to burn fiercely. Grab the nearest thing that will cover you; overcoat, blanket, rug, wrap it tightly around you at the neck first to prevent flames from burning the face and lie down and roll over and over. This will smother the flames quickly. If you can get nothing to wrap around you, lie down and roll slowly over and beat the fire with your hands covered by some part of your clothing not on fire. If the fire is in the clothing of another, wrap him in the nearest thing available, lay him on the floor and roll him over, smothering the flames as described before. Woolen material will not catch fire as easily as cotton, therefore, if you have a chance to choose, take woolen material for smothering the flames. RESULTS Results of fire in the clothing are sure to be more or less serious burns. When you have discovered the extent of the burn, if it is at all serious, send for the doctor at once, and in the meantime treat the burn as you have already learned to do in minor burns. FIRE IN BUILDINGS Keep cool, in order to remember what to do, and do it quickly. Turn in a fire alarm at once. Send some one else if possible who may not know what to do to the fire. The quickest way is by telephone call, "Fire Department," and tell them the exact address of the building where the fire is. Or you may go to the nearest alarm box, smash the glass, open the door, and pull down the hook that sounds the alarm. (Generally the directions are printed on the box.) If you cannot sound the alarm alone, call upon the nearest person to help you. _Wait there until the firemen arrive and direct them to the fire._ When the firemen come do just as they tell you, for they know exactly what to do. People trying to escape from a burning building often get frightened and then there is a panic. Panic kills more people than fire. Keep cool, and others will follow your example. Never jump from a window unless the flames are so close that it is your only means of escape. If outside a burning building put mattresses and bedding piled high to break the jumper's fall and get a strong hold on a rug to catch the jumper, and let many people hold the rug. If the fire is just beginning, it can easily be put out by smothering it with a rug or blanket; sand, ashes, salt, or a few pails of water will answer the same purpose. Keep the doors and windows closed if possible to prevent draughts from fanning the flames to fiercer effort. Remember this point when you go into a burning building, and leave some responsible person guarding the door, in order that it may not be left open by some one in excitement and the flames fanned beyond control. If you need fresh air in your search for people in a burning building, open a window, put out your head and draw your lungs full of fresh air and then close the window again. In any case it is best to tie a wet handkerchief or towel over the nose and mouth while in a burning building, as this will prevent you from breathing a good deal of smoke. In searching for persons remember always to begin at the top of the building if possible, and search every room. When on stairs keep to wall side, where air is relatively free from flames and smoke. If a room is locked, try to rouse the people by pounding and calling and then break in the door if unsuccessful in rousing them, and you suspect there is some one there. Remember, the air within six inches from the floor is usually free from smoke, and if the smoke makes breathing too difficult, you can still accomplish your end by crawling along the floor and dragging the rescued one with you as you learned to do in gas rescue. Form a bucket brigade from the fire to the nearest water supply; passing the filled pails from one to another rapidly, the last throwing the water on the fire and passing the empty pails back along _another_ line to be filled again and passed on as before. FIRES FROM KEROSENE, GASOLINE, BENZINE _Prevention._--1. Do not light a fire with kerosene. 2. Do not clean gloves or clothing with gasoline or benzine in a room with a lamp or gas jet lighted. 3. Do not try to dry clothing that has been cleaned with gasoline or benzine near a hot stove or lighted gas jet. _Extinction._--Do not use water to put out a fire of kerosene, benzine, or gasoline, as that only scatters the flames. Smother with blankets, rugs, sand, ashes, salt, or anything which is at hand and can be used; remember that woolen will not catch fire as easily as cotton. COMMON POISON AND ANTIDOTES _Poisoning_--Cases of poisoning happen most often because people do not examine the bottles before taking medicines from them. _Prevention_--Disinfectants, liniments and medicines in bottles and boxes should be correctly and plainly labelled. Bottles containing a poisonous substance should be rough outside, or with notched corks or marked with something beside the label stating that their contents are poison. _Treatment_--1. _Send for the doctor at once_, telling him what kind of poison you think the patient has taken in order that he may bring the right antidote and the right implements to give the quickest and most effective relief. 2. Give demulcent or mucilaginous drinks, as for example, milk, raw egg, one or two tablespoonfuls of salad oil, sweet oil, or barley water--which can be obtained most readily. 3. Give something to produce vomiting, provided the lips are not burned or stained as they are with an acid or alkali. A simple but effectual emetic can be made by mixing two teaspoonfuls of salt or a tablespoon of mustard in a glass of lukewarm water. This may be repeated if necessary. 4. If the patient seems drowsy, suspect opium and keep patient awake at all costs till the doctor arrives. 5. If delirium threatens, dash cold water on the patient's head and face to try to prevent the fit from coming on. 6. When the poison taken has been acid, the antidote should be an alkali, but different poisons require different antidotes, and it would be unwise to trust to one's memory as to the proper one to take in each case. It would be well to have a list of the more common poisons and their antidotes attached to the First Aid Kit, but do not trust to the memory. If a Girl Scout does not know, and if the patient's lips are _not_ stained or burned, give an emetic. Bandages Bandages form the most convenient way of keeping dressings on wounds and for making pressure when necessary. They are also used to correct some deformities, but you will not need to concern yourselves with the latter, as this is in the province of doctors. There are three varieties of bandages which you will need to use and with which you should be familiar: the roller, triangular and four-tailed. The materials used for bandages are absorbent gauze, muslins or flannels. The kind you will use most will be gauze and muslin. The gauze is best to use in dressing wounds because it is pliable and absorbent, and muslin, if you may choose, in applying pressure, because it is firm. In an emergency there will usually be little chance to choose. Anything at hand, as underclothing, sheets, blankets, etc., may be torn into strips or triangles and used. Have the material which is used clean if possible. The width of the roller bandage depends on the part of the body to be bandaged, from one inch for the little finger to four inches for the body. They can be rolled very well by hand with a little practice, and every Girl Scout should learn to do this or to improvise a bandage roller by running a very stiff wire through a small wooden box and then bending one end on the outside of the box like a handle. A bandage must be rolled sufficiently tight so that the center will not fall out. By folding one end back and forth a few times to make a core, and then laying the bandaging over one's knees lengthwise of the thigh with the core uppermost, it can be rolled quite tightly and answer every purpose for emergencies. Learn to put on all bandages smoothly and securely, but not too tightly. _Triangular Bandages_--These bandages have advantages for first aid work. They can be quickly made, easily applied and are not apt to be put on too tightly even by a beginner. The size of the piece of cloth varies with the part to be bandaged. Take a square piece of cloth (it should not be less than 34 to 38 inches), fold it diagonally from corner to corner and cut across the fold, making two bandages. The bandage may be applied unfolded or folded into a narrow strip, called cravat bandage. To fold the cravat bandage, the point of the triangle is brought to the middle of the diagonal side and the bandage folded lengthwise to the desired width. The cravat bandage is convenient to use in bandaging the hand, foot, head, eyes, throat and jaw; for tying on splints; for tying around the limb in case of snake bite, and in making a tourniquet. [Illustration] Always tie the bandage with a square knot to prevent slipping. Care must be used in applying the triangular bandage to have it smooth and firm, folding the loose ends into pleats evenly. _Bandage for Hand_--For wound of the palm, lay cravat in straight line, place palm across it at the middle. Fold ends over the back of hand, carry around wrist and tie. Reverse the order for injury to the back of the hand. To cover entire hand, unfold cravat, lay flat with point of triangle beyond the fingers. Fold the point of the bandage over the fingers, cross the ends, and pass around wrist and tie at the back. _Bandage for Foot_--Place foot on the smooth triangle with the point extending beyond the toes several inches. Fold the point back over the instep, cross the ends, carry around the ankle and tie. _Bandage for the Head_--The bandage may be used flat or as a cravat, according to the nature of the injury and the part to be bandaged. [Illustration] _For a cap bandage_, fold over the edge of the diagonal edge, place on the head with the folded edge just above the eyes; pleat the edges hanging down over the ears into small folds so that the bandage lies smoothly; carry the ends around the head; cross at the back, and tie in a square knot in front. The cravat bandage may be used to hold on small dressings where the whole head does not need to be covered. _For the eyes, jaw and throat_ the triangular bandage is used by folding smoothly into a cravat and tying securely over the part to be covered. _Arm Sling._--The triangular bandage makes the best arm sling to support the forearm or for supporting injuries to the elbow or shoulder. An arm sling is firmer and more satisfactory if the triangle is double; that is, simply fold over the square diagonally, but do not cut it along the fold. An arm sling will need to be about a yard square before folding. To adjust the arm sling, put one end over the shoulder on the uninjured side; slip the point of the triangle under the injured arm, so that it will extend beyond the elbow a few inches; then take the end of the bandage over the arm, carry around the back of the neck on the injured side, meeting the other end; and tie securely. To prevent slipping, pin the point of the bandage around the arm just above the elbow. A temporary sling can be made by pinning the sleeve of the injured arm to the dress or coat in such a way as to support the arm. _The Four-tailed Bandage_--This bandage is useful for bandaging the head, and especially in fracture of the jaw. Use a piece of cloth about six or eight inches wide and a yard long. Cut each end into two equal parts, leaving about three or four inches in the middle uncut. [Illustration] When the bandage is applied, the split ends are crossed so that they may be tied over different parts of the head and thus hold the bandage more securely in place. For instance, in the jaw bandage the uncut middle part is placed over and under the chin, the ends crossed, and two ends tied at the back of the neck and two over the top of the head. _Roller Bandages_--Roller bandages are a little more difficult to put on so that they will stay on, and at the same time be smooth and have a uniform pressure on the part of the body bandaged. This last point is most important. Rules for applying roller bandages: 1. Lay external surface of bandage against the part to be bandaged, holding the roll in the right hand, unless you are left-handed, unrolling it as a roll of carpet unrolls to show you a pattern in the shops. 2. Hold the loose end with the left hand and catch it with two or three turns of the bandage before beginning to put on the bandage. Never have more than four or five inches of the bandage unrolled at once. 3. Be careful to have the same pressure from every turn of the bandage. This is most important if the bandage is to stay on and be comfortable and not interfere with the circulation of the blood. Judgment of the pressure is only acquired by practice, and therefore you should practice enough to acquire this before the real emergency happens. 4. Do not bandage too tightly. Blueness of the skin above or below the bandage always means the bandage must be loosened. Remember in applying a bandage immediately after an injury that considerable swelling may occur later, and apply your bandage more loosely than if bandaging after the swelling has gone down. Always loosen a bandage that is tight enough to cause pain or blueness. 5. Bandage from below upward. That is, from the tip of a finger or toe toward the hand or foot. From the hand or foot toward the shoulder or groin. This is in the general direction of the return of the circulation. 6. Bandage over a splint and not under it. 7. Bandage arms, legs, fingers, etc., in the position the patient is to keep the part in when the bandaging is completed. For instance, bend the elbow to a right angle before putting on the arm bandage. This will be more comfortable for the patient, allowing him to carry the arm easily in a sling and also permit him to use the hand to some extent if the nature of the injury will permit. In bandaging a leg both above and below the knee, the bandage must be put on with a view to the necessary bending of the knee in walking and sitting, if the patient is expected to use the leg. 8. Never apply a wet bandage, as you cannot judge of just how much pressure will be exerted when the bandage dries, because of the shrinkage of cloth with drying; much greater in some cloth than in others. Kinds of roller bandages: 1. Circular for parts uniform in size, as the body. 2. Spiral for conical surfaces, as fingers or toes. 3. Reverse for more conical surfaces, as arms and legs. _Circular Bandages_--Any part of the body which is of uniform size may be covered with a circular bandage. Each turn covers about two-thirds of the previous turn. This holds each turn firmly and prevents slipping and exposing the dressing or wound underneath. Bandage in general direction of the return of the blood to the heart. Fasten the bandage with a strip of adhesive plaster or safety pin. If there is possibility of restlessness or much activity on the part of the patient, it is best to run several narrow strips of adhesive plaster along the whole width of the bandage when finished to prevent possible slipping of the turns of the bandage when the muscles move under it with the activity of the patient. This is especially true of a body bandage. _Spiral Bandage_--A conical part, if not too conical, may be covered with a spiral bandage. Each turn ascends at a slight angle, with one edge of the bandage a little tighter than the other. In putting on this kind of bandage it is necessary to learn to have the tight edges all of a uniform pressure and each turn overlap the turn below in such a way that these tight edges make the uniform pressure without regard to the upper edge underneath, which is covered in each turn by the tighter edge of the turn above it. _Reverse Bandages_--The reverse bandage is a modification of the spiral one, in order to cover the gapping between spirals which occurs when the surface is very conical, as, for instance, on the leg. In putting on this bandage the loose end is caught by two or three turns first as in other bandages. Then start to make a spiral turn, but at the mid point of the front of the part being bandaged place the thumb of the left hand, and fold the bandage down so that it lies smoothly and continue the turn around to that same point. Repeat the process with each turn. (See illustration.) Each turn covers two-thirds of the one below in order to hold firmly. The pressure must be uniform when the bandage is finished. Fasten the ends as described under circular bandages, or divide the end of the bandage into two parts for several inches--long enough to wind around the part bandaged. Tie a single knot at the base to prevent further dividing, and wrap the ends around the part in different directions; tie in a hard knot to hold firmly. _Bandaging Fingers and Toes_--In bandaging fingers and toes it is usually best to bandage the whole of the injured member. Cover the end of the finger, for instance, by passing the end of the half inch or one inch bandage several times the whole length of the finger, over the end and to the base of the other side. Hold this in place with one hand, start the spiral at the end of the finger, and bandage smoothly toward the hand. The spiral or the reverse spiral may be used. _Bandaging Two or More Fingers or Toes_--It is sometimes necessary to bandage two or more fingers, for instance, at once, as in case of a burn, where it is necessary always to have the burned fingers separated while healing to prevent the raw places from growing together. [Illustration] Pass a finger bandage twice around the wrist and pass obliquely to the base of the thumb. Carry to the end of the thumb and bandage as described above. When the thumb is bandaged, carry the bandage back to the wrist; pass around the wrist in one or two circular turns, and carry the bandage to the first finger and bandage as before. Repeat this until all the fingers are bandaged. Carry the bandage back to the wrist, after the last finger you wish to bandage is done; make one or two turns around the wrist and fasten. [Illustration] In bandaging the foot, carry the bandage to the ankle to make secure and hold in place. _Bandaging Arms and Legs_--The reverse spiral is usually best for bandaging these, because of the conical shape. Practice alone can teach you to put this on smoothly, firmly, not too tightly, and at the same time quickly. A reverse bandage will not stay in place on the leg of the person walking around unless pinned in many places or stuck by sizing in the cloth (which has been wet), plaster, etc. Only a figure eight caught over the top of the calf, in each alternate loop, will do so. _The Figure Eight Bandage_--The figure eight is a modification of the spiral used in bandaging over joints in such a way as to permit some motion and at the same time keep the bandage firm and in place. The bandage is carried first below and then above the joint; then below and then above, the turns overlapping the usual two-thirds of the width of the bandage, leaving the joint free until the last. Then it may be covered with two or three circular turns of the bandage. This admits of considerable motion without disturbing the bandage to any extent. The National Red Cross and Girl Scout Instruction in First Aid [Illustration] By special arrangement with the National Red Cross, it is possible for a Girl Scout completing satisfactorily the requirements for the First Aid Proficiency Badge to secure with slight additional work the Red Cross certificate in First Aid. Or the course may be taken entirely under Red Cross auspices, though arranged by Scout officials, in which case the Scout may receive both the Proficiency Badge and the Red Cross certificate. The conditions of this co-operation between the Girl Scouts and the National Red Cross are as follows: Classes are to be organized with not less than four or more than twenty-five in a class. The best size is ten to fifteen. _Scouts must be at least sixteen years of age to be admitted to these classes._ The instructor must be a physician appointed by the Chairman of the First Aid Committee of the local Chapter of the Red Cross. He or she may be supplied upon request by the Chapter, or chosen by the class and the name submitted to the Chapter for appointment. The Red Cross class roll must be sent in to the local Chapter early in the course. A Secretary to handle the records should be chosen, and where the class is made up of Scouts, the officials should be preferably a Scout Captain or Scout Official. The examiner must be a physician appointed by the local Red Cross Chapter and is preferably some one other than the instructor, but this is not necessary. Like the instructor, the examiner may be supplied by the Chapter or chosen by the class. The Red Cross examination roll, which may be obtained from the Chapter, should be used in giving examinations and then returned to the Chapter, who will issue the certificates. Follow the directions on the roll carefully. If a Scout holds a First Aid Proficiency Badge she may complete the course in seven and one-half hours. If she does not hold a Proficiency Badge in First Aid then fifteen hours will be required. A Girl Scout holding a Proficiency Badge in First Aid and taking a school course held under Red Cross auspices which she passes with a mark of at least seventy-five per cent, can, when the school principal certifies to this, get the Red Cross certificate without further examination by applying to the local Red Cross Chapter. _Advanced Courses_ Advanced courses are open to those who have the Red Cross certificate. There must be an interval of at least six months after the elementary course before an advanced course can be taken, and the same interval between repetitions of it. The course of instruction is seven and one-half hours, mainly practical demonstrations. A Red Cross medal is given on completion of this course. Each time it is repeated, up to three times, a bar (engraved with year) is given to be added to the medal. _Fees_ A fee of fifty cents is required for the elementary course. The local Red Cross Chapter has the right to reduce this fee. The fee for the advanced course is one dollar, which covers the cost of certificate, examination and medal. The fee for bar and engraving is fifty cents. These fees cannot be reduced. These fees cover the cost to the Red Cross of postage, certificates, medals, bars, and so forth, but do not cover that of instructor, examiner, or classroom supplies, which the Red Cross requires the class to take care of. _Information_ Where there is no local Girl Scout organization refer to the local Red Cross Chapter; or if there is none, either to the Girl Scout National Headquarters, 189 Lexington Avenue, New York, N. Y., or to the Department of First Aid, American Red Cross National Headquarters, Washington, D. C. 4. THE HOME NURSE The Girl Scout who has earned the Home Nurse Badge may be of great help where there is illness. But, she should remember that only such people as doctors and trained nurses who have knowledge and skill gained by special training and thorough practice are fitted to care properly for those who are very ill. If the Scout with the badge keeps her head and shows herself steady, reliable and willing, when called upon for help in illness or emergencies, she proves herself a true Scout who is living up to the Scout motto of "BE PREPARED." To earn the badge she should know: How to keep the sick room clean and comfortable. How to make a bed properly. How to prepare for and help a sick person in taking a bath. How to make a sick person comfortable in bed, changing position, etc. How to take temperature, pulse and respiration. How to prepare and serve simple, nourishing food for the sick. How to feed a helpless person. How to prepare and use simple remedies for slight ailments. How to occupy and amuse the sick. When helping about the sick, the Scout should wear a wash dress or an apron which covers her dress. She should be very neat and clean. She should wash her hands frequently, _always_ before her own meals, and after coming into contact with the sick person and after handling utensils, dishes, linen, etc., used in the sick room. Great cleanliness is necessary not only for her own protection but to prevent illness spreading. She should move quickly and quietly, but without bustle or hurry, taking care not to let things fall, not to bump against the furniture, not to jar the bed, not to slam doors, in fact not to make any unnecessary noises, as sick people are not only disturbed but may be made worse by noises and confusion. If a door is squeaky the hinges should be oiled. Too much talking, loud talking and whispering are to be avoided. Only cheerful and pleasant subjects should be talked of, _never_ illnesses either that of the patient nor of others. The best nursing aims not only to bring relief and comfort to those already sick, but to guard against _spreading_ sickness. We know, now, that many diseases are spread by means of _germs_ which are carried from person to person by various means, such as air, water, milk, and other food; discharges from the mouth, nose, bowels, bladder, wounds; clothing; the hands; the breath, and so forth. It has been found that great heat, intense cold, sunshine and some powerful drugs called disinfectants kill germs. Germs thrive and multiply in dirt, dampness and darkness. That is why it is important to have fresh air, sunshine and cleanliness in order to keep well, and to help in curing those who get sick. The Room, Its Order and Arrangement The hangings and furniture of a sick room should be of a kind that can be washed and easily kept clean. Plain wooden furniture is better than upholstered furniture which collects and holds the dust. If there is a rocking chair it should be for the use of the sick person only. Seeing and hearing other people rock may be very disturbing. If carpets are movable, so much the better, as they can be taken out to be cleaned. The room should be bright and attractive. Sick people like flowers and pretty things, but the flowers should not have a strong perfume, and there should not be too many ornaments around to collect dust and to take up too much room. Flowers should be taken out of the room every night and the water changed before being returned to the room in the morning. Never have faded flowers around. The room should be kept neat--a place for everything and everything in its place. Neatness and attractiveness are not only pleasing to the sick person and those who come into the room but may really make the sick person feel better. Medicines should not be kept in sight. All dishes and utensils not in use should be taken away and should be washed immediately after use. _Ventilating and Lighting the Room_ The room of a sick person should be so situated that it will get plenty of sunlight and be easily aired. A room that has two or more windows can be better ventilated than a room with only one. When there is only one window, it should be opened both top and bottom. If there is not a screen, one can be made by hanging a shawl or a blanket over a clothes horse or a high-backed chair, or over a line stretched across the lower part of the window. A fire place or a stove keeps the air circulating--the air being constantly drawn up the chimney--and so helps in ventilating a room. When "airing" the room great care must be taken to keep the sick person free from draughts. Unless special orders have been given to the contrary there should be plenty of sunshine let in. The eyes of the sick person should be protected from the glare by a screen. If possible there should be a thermometer in the room. The proper heat is between 65 and 70 degrees. If the temperature of the room is as high as 70 degrees and the sick person is cold, it is better to give her a hot water bag and to put on more covers than to shut the windows, thus keeping out the fresh air. Cool air acts as a tonic for the sick. Cleaning the Room The carpet should be gone over every day to remove the surface dust. Use the carpet sweeper, being careful not to knock the furniture nor to jar the bed. Raise as little dust and make as little noise as possible. Torn-up wet paper scattered on a small part of the carpet at a time and lightly brushed up into a dustpan with a whisk broom, or a broom, cleans the carpet very well without raising dust. If the carpet cannot be taken out to be swept or beaten but requires thorough sweeping, an umbrella with a sheet over it may be hoisted over the head of the sick person to keep the dust from her nose and nostrils. The bare parts of the floor should be gone over with a damp duster or a damp mop. The dusting should be done with a damp or oiled duster also, so that the dust may not be scattered. A basin of soapy water should be at hand and the duster washed in it frequently while dusting, so that the dust collected on it from one surface will not be carried to another. While dusting special attention should be paid to the doorknobs and that part of the door around them. When the dusting is finished the dusters should be thoroughly washed and scalded and hung out of doors to dry. The Bed A metal bedstead is better than a wooden one, as wood holds odors and moisture, and is apt to have more cracks and crevices for germs or bugs to lodge in. It should be white, for then it shows when it needs cleaning and bed bugs keep away from white surfaces which show them up easily. If possible, have the bed in a part of the room, where the drafts will not strike the patient every time a door or window is opened, and where the light does not shine in the eyes. If it can be placed so that the patient can see from the window so much the better. To Make an Unoccupied Bed Remove pillows and bedclothes, one at a time, being careful not to let corners drag on the floor, and put to air. Turn the mattress over from end to end one day, and from side to side next day. If the patient does not have to return to bed at once leave to air for at least half an hour. An old blanket, old spread or a quilted pad, spread over the mattress not only protects the mattress but prevents the sheets from wearing out, and may make the bed more comfortable. These should be kept clean. The bed for a sick person is frequently made with a rubber sheet and a draw sheet. The draw sheet is so called because its proper use is to be drawn through under the patient without greatly disturbing her and give her a cool fresh place to lie on. Therefore it should be long enough to tuck in sufficiently under one side to allow of this being done. An ordinary sheet folded in two from top to bottom and placed with folded edge toward the head of the bed may be used. It should entirely cover the rubber sheet, which is usually put on between the bottom and the draw sheet. [Illustration] When the mattress is sufficiently aired, put on the protective covering. Over this spread the lower sheet so that the middle fold of the sheet lies up and down the centre of the mattress from head to foot. Keep perfectly straight. The sheet should be long enough to have at least fourteen inches over at ends and sides to tuck in. Tuck ends under mattress at head and foot drawing tightly so that it will be smooth and firm. Now tuck under at one side, folding neatly at corners, so that they will be mitred when finished. If there is no rubber nor draw sheet to put on, go to the other side of the bed and tuck in firmly at corners. Then, pulling the middle of the sheet very tightly with one hand, push the mattress with the other and tuck the sheet under. This under sheet should be very smooth without a wrinkle in it. If it is not long enough to tuck in well at both head and foot, leave plenty at the head to tuck in securely and tuck in at the sides tightly rather than risk having it come loose at the head. Be sure, however, that the mattress is entirely covered. When Rubber and Draw Sheets Are Used Before going around to the other side, lay the rubber sheet over the bed, so that the top edge will be well above where the lower edge of the pillow will come. Put the draw sheet over it. Tuck both well under the mattress on that side. Then, go to the other side and tuck in the corners of the lower sheet as directed, then stretching draw, rubber, and under sheet very tightly, tuck in separately. Next spread the upper sheet, wrong side up, leaving as much at the head to turn back over the blankets as you left in the under sheet to tuck in. Have the middle fold over that of the lower sheet. Spread the blankets so that their upper edges will be even with the upper edge of the mattress. If the blankets are not long enough to reach as far up as they should, and yet tuck under firmly at the foot, place the lower one as directed, and the upper one so that there will be enough to tuck under at the foot, and hold the others in place. Tuck in all at once the foot and lower corners, mitring the corners as you did those of the lower sheet. Pull and straighten the sheet at the top and turn back smoothly over the blankets. If the bed is not to be occupied right away, tuck in both sides, stretching well so that it will have a smooth surface. Put on the spread, having the top edge even with the top of the covers. Tuck in neatly at foot and lower corners, letting the sides hang. Shake and beat the pillows thoroughly, make smooth and even, and put in place. To Change the Under Sheet When the Patient Is in Bed Loosen the bedclothes, without jarring the bed. Take off covers one at a time, until only one blanket and sheet remain. (If the patient feels cold, leave as many blankets as necessary to keep her warm.) Holding blankets with one hand or having patient hold it by the top, draw off the upper sheet, being careful not to uncover the patient. Remove the pillows. Have the patient as near the side of the bed as is safe, on her side, and facing the side on which she is lying. Roll the under sheets on the side of the bed close to the patient's back, making them as flat as possible. Pleat about half of the fresh under sheet lengthwise, and place close to the soiled sheets. Tuck in the other half, at the head, foot and side, draw the rubber sheet back over this fresh sheet, arrange the fresh draw sheet in place, tuck both in at that side and roll the free part close up to the patient's back. Now lift the patient's feet over the roll of fresh and soiled linen to the freshly made part, then have her roll her body over that side. Going to the other side of the bed, remove all the soiled linen and tuck the fresh sheets in, pulling tightly, being sure that there are no wrinkles under the patient. All the time keep the patient well covered. Now, spread the upper sheet and blankets over the covering the patient has had on while the lower sheets were being changed and, having the patient hold the coverings you have just put on, draw off the others, just as you took off the top sheet at first. Finish making the bed as you would an unoccupied one. If the Bed Is to Be Occupied at Once If the bed is to be occupied at once the coverings should be tucked in only at foot, corners and one side, then turned back diagonally from the head to foot. The bed clothes should never be drawn too tightly over a person in bed, or they may irritate the skin, especially at the knees and toes. Bed sores may be started in this way. Perhaps the commonest cause of bedsores is from wrinkles in the under sheets. If the spread is heavy it should not be used over a patient. Use a sheet instead to protect the blankets. Bathing Bathing is more important for the sick than for the well. It not only keeps the skin clean and in condition to do its work, but it is soothing to the nerves, makes the sick person rest better and is refreshing. If the room is the right temperature and the bath is carefully taken there is no danger of a sick person taking cold. On the other hand bathing helps to keep people in condition to _avoid_ taking colds. (See Red Cross Text Book on Home Hygiene and Care of the Sick, page 156.) When a patient is very sick or helpless, the bath should be given by someone who is able to do it deftly and quickly, with the least exertion to the patient. Very often, however, a person in bed is quite able to bathe herself, with a little help, if the necessary things are brought to her. To Prepare For a Bath in Bed Have the room warm and free from draughts. A good temperature is 70 degrees. An old person or a baby may have it warmer. Bring into the room everything needed. This will include: An extra blanket to wrap around the sick person. Two or more bath towels. Two wash cloths--one for the face and another for the rest of the body. Soap--Ivory or castile are good. Pitcher of good hot water, and slop jar. Alcohol and toilet powder if you have it. Nail file and scissors. Comb and brush. Clean bed linen and nightgown. In cold weather these may be hung near the fire or radiator to warm. A basin of water of a temperature that the sick person finds comfortable. When everything is ready the Scout can help by loosening the bedclothes, arranging the extra blanket, removing the nightgown, and in holding the basin and towels, in changing the water or in any way that will make the bath easier for the sick person, perhaps washing the feet and back, being careful to keep all the rest of the body covered and warm, and in protecting the bed by bath towels spread under the part being washed. When doing this the wash cloth should not be so wet that it will drip and wet the bed. It should be held so that the corners do not touch against the bedclothes. There should not be too much soap used as it makes the skin feel sticky. Every part should be rinsed and dried thoroughly. Warm towels are a great help in this. When the bath is finished alcohol or witch hazel may be used to rub the parts where there is most pressure as the back, shoulder blades, hips, buttocks, elbows, knees and ankles. This not only gives comfort but it prevents bedsores. If a sick person gets a bath, so that it does not disturb nor tire her nor make her chilly she will usually enjoy it. By getting everything ready, by helping where needed, and by clearing up nicely the Girl Scout may make the bath a pleasure instead of something to be dreaded. Sometimes sick people are able to go to the bathroom to take their own baths, if everything is gotten ready for them beforehand, so that they will not get tired doing so. People who are not well should never be allowed to lock themselves in the bathroom alone. Getting Ready a Tub Bath The bathroom should be well aired but warm. The water in the bath tub helps to warm it up. A bath towel or bath mat should be spread beside the tub on the floor and a chair with a blanket and a bath towel on it for the person to sit on while she is drying herself. The water should be about 105 degrees or a temperature that the person finds comfortable. Always let a patient try it herself with her hand and arm before getting in. Five to ten minutes is long enough to stay in the water. The towels should be within easy reach and the bathrobe, night gown and slippers placed ready to put on. The bed should be put to air and left as long as possible, but if the patient has to get back in it immediately after her bath, it should be made--care being taken that it is warm enough. If necessary put in hot water bags and spread a blanket over the under sheet to wrap around her if she needs it. People chill easily after a bath if they are exposed to sudden cold. Foot Baths Foot baths are often used in the home as remedies for colds, headaches, sleeplessness and to give relief at the monthly period. If there is not a regular foot tub a pail that is large enough to put the foot in is better than a basin as it lets the water come up around the ankles. A person may sit in a chair or on the side of the bed. Have tub about half full of water and at first of a heat that feels comfortable, putting more hot water in from time to time, until it is as hot as it can be stood. When adding hot water the feet should be away from the part of the tub where the water is poured in, and it should be added slowly to prevent possibility of burning. A person getting a foot bath should be kept very warm. Wrap a blanket around the knees so that the legs will be protected front and back. After fifteen or twenty minutes the feet should be removed from the water and dried without rubbing. They should be kept well covered for an hour or more. No one should go out immediately after a foot bath. If mustard is to be added, mix it first in a cup and mix it gradually so that it does not lump. Two tablespoonfuls of mustard to a foot bath is about enough. _Changing of position_, and supporting different parts of the body, give both rest and comfort to anyone in bed. This may be done by turning a patient and by the proper arrangement of pillows and other supports. _To turn a patient toward you_ place one hand over her shoulder and the other hand over her hip and draw toward you. Bend her knees, go to the other side of the bed, put both hands under her hips and draw toward you. Place a pillow lengthwise at her back, from her shoulder to waist for support. A pillow, placed under or between the knees, often gives much relief and comfort. Small air pillows that can be placed under or against the small of the back relieve strain and rest the muscles. Anyone lying on her back will be rested by arranging pillows lengthwise at the sides to support arms. Rubber rings and air cushions are also used to relieve pressure and give support. They should always be covered, using towel or pillow case, if they have not their own fitted covers. Rings of any size may be made of cotton wound with bandage. These are frequently needed under the heels, particularly for a patient lying on her back. [Illustration] Sitting Up in Bed When a patient is allowed to sit up in bed and a bed-rest is not available a straight chair placed bottom-up behind the patient makes a good support for the pillows. If there is no other support, at least six pillows are needed to make a patient comfortable. The pillows should be so arranged that the head is not thrown forward and that there is proper support for the back, and the arms. Raising a Patient Who Has Slipped Down in Bed Have the patient draw up the knees until the soles of the feet are firmly on the bed. Place your right arm under the far shoulder in such a way that the patient's head rests in your bent elbow. Place the left arm under the thighs. Hold your back stiff. Have the patient clasp her hands around your waist. Lift without jerking. When _two_ persons are doing the lifting, one should stand on either side of the bed. The person on the left side of the bed should place the right arm as though she were doing the lifting alone. Place the other arm under the small of the patient's back. The person on the right side will place her left arm beside her companion's, and her right arm under the thighs. If able, the patient may place a hand on the shoulder of each lifter. Lift in unison without jerking. A pillow rolled in a sheet, placed under the body and tied to the head or sides of the bed will prevent slipping down in bed. It is usually better to shake up and rearrange the pillows after raising the patient as the moving disarranges them somewhat. To Change the Pillows Slip the right arm under the shoulders in such a way that the neck and head are supported in your bent elbow; with the left hand gently draw out one pillow at a time, from above. In replacing, stand the pillows on the side at the head of the bed, lift the shoulders, and grasping the pillow by the middle draw down under the patient's head. Another way is to have the patient near one side of the bed and lifting in the same way draw the pillows one at a time away from you. In replacing put the fresh pillows on the far side and again lifting the head pull them toward you. The pillow should support the neck and shoulders. A small down or hair pillow placed under the back of the neck from time to time, rests and supports. To Change the Nightgown The nightgown should be loose enough to change easily. If there is an opening in the front, this may be made larger or the gown may be split up the back. These openings may be sewn up again without in any way damaging the gown. Have the gown well drawn up around the shoulders and neck. Slip one hand through the arm hole of the gown, and bend the patient's arm. With the other hand draw off the sleeve. Draw the hand through the corresponding sleeve of the fresh gown and lifting the head just as for changing the pillow, slip the soiled and fresh gown over the head at the same time. Pull away the soiled gown. Put your hand through the sleeve and draw the patient's hand through, then raising again draw the gown down under the back and hips. Combing the Hair The hair should be combed at least once a day. If this is done from the very beginning of an illness it will not get badly tangled. Spread a towel over the pillow. Have the patient turn head on one side so that the back of the head is exposed. Part the hair in the middle from the forehead to the nape of the neck. Comb only a small strand at a time. If there are tangles, comb from ends toward the scalp. Avoid pulling by twisting the strand around the finger and holding loosely between the comb and the scalp. When the hair on one side has been combed, braid it, having the top of the braid near the ear. Do the other side the same way. If very much tangled a little oil or alcohol rubbed in makes it easier to comb. Wash the comb and brush in soap and water once a week. Wash the hands after combing the hair. Be careful in removing the towel not to scatter the loose hairs and dandruff it may hold. Getting Patient Up in Chair If possible have a chair with arms. Place beside the bed. Put cushions on seat and fresh pillow at back. Throw a blanket over all corner-wise, to wrap around the patient when she sits down. While in bed put on stockings, slippers, bath robe (and underdrawers or flannel petticoat in winter). Have the patient sit up in bed, and help her to swing her feet over the edge. Stand in front of her, and have her place her hands on your shoulders. Place your hands under her armpits, and let her slip off the bed with her feet firmly on the floor. Turn and let her sit down slowly. Place a stool for her feet. Place the chair so that she will be out of drafts and so that the light does not shine directly into her face. When patients become restless and nervous they may often be made more comfortable by rearranging the bed clothes, by fanning, by changing position, by rubbing the back and legs, by putting hot water bags at the feet, back and neck, or small of back. In summer try very cold water instead of hot water in the bags. Cold compresses may be applied to the back of the neck, the spine, the forehead, or wherever they may give comfort. A foot bath, a hot or cool sponging will not only quiet restlessness but will often make a patient sleepy. In using any wet application be sure not to get the pillows or bed clothes wet. Continued rubbing at the back of the neck or stroking of the forehead gently is soothing and quieting. Temperature, Pulse, Respiration The temperature of the average person in health is 98.6° Fahrenheit. This is called the _normal_ temperature. A temperature below 98.0 degrees is said to be sub-normal. A healthy person may have a sub-normal temperature in the early morning. People with a continuous low temperature, say around 97 (this is often the case with old people and those who are recovering from illness) need careful attention. If in bed, they should be kept warmly covered and supplied with hot water bags. If up, they should be warmly clothed, and protected from drafts, and sudden changes of temperature. Usually, in the early morning before daylight, the temperature is at the lowest. That is why it is important to watch sick people and babies and to put an extra cover over them at that time. Any temperature above 100 degrees, if it continues, is serious. A temperature above 101 degrees is a fairly high one, and 103 degrees or above is very high. The temperature is taken with a clinical thermometer placed in the mouth or in the armpit. For babies, and people who might break the thermometer if it were placed in the mouth, place the thermometer in the armpit. Temperatures of babies and very ill people are taken in rectum, but the Girl Scout should not attempt this. Always wash the thermometer in cold water before using. Wash in cold water and disinfect by wiping off with alcohol or ether after using. Hot water will break it. When the thermometer is being used every day it may be kept in disinfectant. Never lay down a thermometer that has been used until after it has been washed and disinfected. To Take the Temperature in the Mouth Cleanse the thermometer. Shake down so that the mercury is below 96 degrees. Have patient moisten lips. Place the thermometer with bulb under tongue. Lips must be closed while holding it. Hold two or three minutes, in this position. Be sure that nothing hot or cold has been in the mouth for at least five minutes before taking temperature. To Take Temperature in the Armpits Wipe out armpit. Insert the thermometer. Place arm across the chest so that the thermometer is held securely. It should remain so for four or five minutes. Pulse The pulse may be counted on the thumb side of the inside of the wrist, at the temples, the ankles, and other parts of the body where the arteries are near the surface. The pulse shows the number of times per minute which the heart beats or pumps. A normal pulse rate for a man is around 72, for a woman 80, for a child 90, and for a baby 100 beats. A very rapid or a very slow pulse shows that there is something wrong that should be reported. It takes a good deal of practice to learn to count the pulse. Place two or three fingers on the beating artery, just touching firmly enough to feel the beats, and count for a half minute, then multiply by two to find the number of beats per minute. Be sure that the patient's hand is in a comfortable position while counting. Respiration Respiration is another word for breathing. An average normal person when sitting or lying still, breathes from twelve to twenty times per minute, and when moving about 24 times. We all know that quick moving makes quick breathing. Respiration above 40 or below 8 is a danger sign. If the respiration is very fast, or difficult, or wheezy, or in any way very unusual, we can tell it at a glance. People who are breathing hard are frequently relieved by being propped up in bed. _To count the respiration._ It is better to do this without the person's knowledge. It may be counted by watching the rise and fall of the chest or of the shoulders. Another way is to hold the person's hand as though taking the pulse, having her rest her hand and forearm lightly on the chest and count the rise and fall. Dishes Dishes used by patients with any of the contagious diseases, and this includes colds and sore throats, should be kept separate, and washed separately from the family dishes. They should be scalded after washing and have special dish cloths. Using separate utensils, and a separate room for the sick person are two of the surest ways to prevent the spread of the disease. In such diseases as measles, scarlet fever, colds, mumps, influenza, dishes should be boiled every day. Put them in a large kettle in cold water and let them come to a boil. Even the thinnest glass will not break if treated in this way. Let the dishes stay in the water until cool enough to handle. Dish cloths and dish mops should be thoroughly washed in good hot water and soap, and put in the sun to dry. They should be boiled regularly. If it is necessary to disinfect linen put it all in a bag and leave in cold water to soak for some hours before putting it on to boil. Put a little washing soda in the water. After boiling hard for fifteen or twenty minutes it may be washed with the other garments. Stains should be washed out before putting linen in the wash. Utensils and Their Care _All utensils should be kept clean and ready for instant use._ The bedpan should always be warmed before being used. Running warm water in and on it is usually the easiest way to do this. It should be thoroughly dried on the outside so that it will not wet the bed. It is a good plan to have a piece of rubber sheet or several thicknesses of old newspapers covered with a bath towel to put under the bedpan in bed. When carrying away, keep covered. Use cold water first, and after washing with soapy water, rinse and dry before putting away. Basins in constant use, especially if they are used to hold disinfectant, need to be well scoured with sapolio from time to time. Nothing is more shiftless looking than a dark rim of dirt or stain around a basin. Hot water bags should be emptied when not in use and hung upside down. The stoppers should be kept fastened to them. Ice caps should be dried inside and out and stuffed with cotton or tissue paper to keep the sides from sticking together. Hot and Cold Applications Hot applications are used to relieve pain, to supply heat, and to bring down temperature. Both moist and dry heat are used. Hot water bags, metal heaters, electric pads, hot flannels are the commonest forms of dry heat. Fomentations, poultices, and baths are the simplest forms of moist heat. In applying heat, one should be ever on the watch to avoid burning a patient. The skin of babies, children, old people, and of those who have been ill a long time, is very easily burned. Again, the same heat that is easily tolerated by one person, may burn another. _Hot water bags_ or their substitute, electric pads or metal heaters should always be wrapped in towels or have their own coverings. Never fill a hot water bag more than two-thirds full. The water should not be hot enough to scald a patient if the bag should spring a leak. Before putting in the cork, expel the air by twisting the upper part between the neck and the level of the water before putting in the cork. Be sure to cork tightly. If the bag is to be where the patient will bear the weight, put in a very little water and renew from time to time. Where there is no hot water bag, stone bottles may be used, or bags of salt or sand may be heated in the oven. The practice of using ordinary glass bottles is an unsafe one, as the corks are not always to be depended on to stay tight and the glass breaks easily. When bags of salt or sand are used the coverings should be thick enough to prevent the particles from sifting through. Pieces of flannel the right size may in some cases supply all the heat that is necessary. They should be covered with another flannel to keep in the warmth. _To make a mustard plaster._ Have ready a piece of old muslin (a piece of an old nightgown will do) two inches wide and two inches longer than twice the length of the poultice required. On one end of it, with a margin of an inch on three sides, place a piece of oiled paper or shelf paper or a piece of clean paper bag, the size you wish the poultice to be. Mix one tablespoonful of mustard with 8 tablespoonfuls of flour, before wetting. Have water about as hot as the hand can stand. Do not use boiling water. Stir the water into the mustard and flour gradually so that it will not lump. Make the paste stiff enough to spread thinly on the paper, about a quarter of an inch thick. Turn the margins of the cloth over the paste. Fold the long end over so that all the paste is covered and tuck the end under the turned-in edges of the sides. Fold it and take it to the patient in a hot towel or between hot plates. The skin where it is to be placed should be oiled. Test the heat by holding it against the back of your own hand. Put on slowly and leave for two minutes. Watch and remove sooner if the skin becomes reddened or if it is uncomfortable. After removing wipe away the moisture from the skin and cover with a soft piece of muslin, and place a piece of flannel over that. A blister after a mustard paste shows very careless nursing. Never let a patient go to sleep with a mustard plaster on. [Illustration: ADMINISTERING AN INHALATION] _Fomentations or stupes_ are pieces of flannel wrung out of very hot water and placed on the skin. They should be two or three times as large as the part to be treated, and should be applied as hot as the patient can bear them, without burning the skin. Have two sets, so that one set will be ready to put on when the other is taken off. The stupes should be wrung as dry as possible and as they must be very hot to do any good, a fomentation wringer is a great protection for the hands. One may be made by putting halves of a broom handle through the ends of a short roller towel in the middle of which the fomentation has been placed. By twisting the sticks in the opposite direction the fomentation can be wrung very dry. Take it to the bed in the wringer and do not open until ready to place on the skin, as it will lose its heat very quickly. Put a little oil or vaseline on the skin and apply the fomentation gradually. Cover with a dry flannel and put wadding over that. A piece of oiled skin or oiled paper between the wadding and the dry flannel helps to keep in the heat and moisture. Hold in place with a towel or binder pinned tightly. _Cold_ is applied by means of ice bags and by cold compresses. In filling an ice bag the ice should be in small pieces, and the bag not too full. Expel the air as from a hot water bag. Cover with a towel or a cover for the purpose. Never put the rubber near the skin, it may freeze if so left. Besides, the cover absorbs the moisture that collects on the outside as the ice melts. _Cold compresses_ are a common remedy for headache. Old handkerchiefs are excellent for this purpose. Fold in frayed edges, two or three thicknesses will be heavy enough, and have two, large enough to cover the forehead. Wring one out of ice water so that it will not drip, and put on the forehead. Keep the other on a piece of ice and change the two applications frequently. When applied to the neck a dry cloth should be placed outside to protect the pillow or the patient's clothing. Cold compresses for inflamed eyes should be of one thickness only, and a little larger than the eye. Have a number and change very often. Use a separate compress for each eye. If there is a discharge a compress should not be used a second time. The discarded compresses should be collected in a paper bag or wrapped in newspapers and burned. When cold compresses are applied to the head there should be a hot water bag at the feet. _Gargles, sprays, and inhalations_ are often ordered for sore throats and colds. Salt or soda added to water in the proportion of a teaspoonful to a pint makes an excellent gargle. A very cold gargle or one as hot as can be held without burning is better than a tepid one. Do not go out in the cold air directly after using a hot gargle. Use at least six separate mouthfuls each time you gargle, and hold long enough at the back of the throat for the gargle to reach every part. A spray should not be used for the nose without a special order from the doctor. The liquid sometimes gets into the passage leading to the ear and causes earache. Always wipe the nozzle of the atomizer before using. It should be cleaned after each use and boiled, if another patient is to use it. Always boil the nozzle and clean out the bottle when the atomizer is to be put away. Keep it in a box where dust will not reach it. _Inhalations_ are useful to relieve difficult breathing and for loss of voice or hoarseness. Fill a pitcher, bowl, or basin, two-thirds full of boiling water. Wrap with a towel to prevent burning if it should touch a patient. Usually drugs such as peppermint spirits, oil of eucalyptus, or tincture of benzoin, in dose of a teaspoonful to the hot water contained in the receptacle, is enough. If no drug is at hand, the steam itself may be depended upon to do some good. Pin one end of a bath towel around the face below the eyes and spread the other over the pitcher inhaling the steam as it rises. It may not be possible to induce a child to do this, in which case make a tent of an open umbrella with a sheet thrown over it at the head of the bed, leaving the front a little open. Place the pitcher so that the child will get the steam and hold the pitcher carefully all the time. Do not let the pitcher touch the patient. Another means of inhalation is to hold a funnel, made of a piece of folded paper in the nose of a kettle of very hot water, near the patient so that the steam can be inhaled. Be very careful not to scald the patient. After a steam inhalation one should not go out in the cold air nor have the windows opened for an hour or more. Common Medicines and Other Remedies It is a very safe rule _never_ to take medicines oneself without a doctor's orders. Above all, never advise others, even when you know from experience that certain medicines have helped yourself and others. Medicines should be taken upon prescription from the physician, should be measured accurately, and given at the exact hour ordered. Read carefully the label or box from which you take the medicine before and after opening or uncorking, and read the name again when putting back in its place. Many people have been poisoned by not reading the label. Have all glasses and spoons, etc., thoroughly cleansed before and after using. Accuracy, attention, cleanliness, regularity should be watchwords. In giving either food or medicine, the following measures are helpful: 1 teaspoonful measures 50 grains. 2 teaspoonfuls make 1 dessertspoonful. 2 dessertspoonfuls make 1 tablespoonful. 2 tablespoonfuls make 1 ounce. 8 ounces make 1 cupful or glassful. 16 ounces make one pint, or pound. (This applies to either liquid or dry measure.) In giving pills, capsules, tablets give a drink of water first to moisten the tongue and throat. This helps them to slip down more easily. If there is danger of a pill or tablet choking the patient, crush the pill or tablet between two spoons. When medicines are taken by spoon, the spoon should be licked by the patient in order to get the full amount. Nearly all medicines should be mixed with water, and should be followed with a drink of water unless orders are given to the contrary. Keep all medicines tightly corked. Buy medicines only in small quantities, as most of them lose their strength in time. In buying vaseline or cold cream it is better to have it in a tube than in jars. Being opened and dipped into constantly soon makes the contents of a jar unclean. Common Remedies Such remedies as the following are to be found in many homes. Castor oil, clove oil, vaseline, baking soda (this is the same thing as bicarbonate of soda or saleratus), salt, lime water, alcohol, camphorated oil, spirits of camphor, flaxseed, aromatic spirits of ammonia. Do not confuse this latter remedy with ammonia water used for cleansing things. Castor oil should be taken in these doses: Baby: 1 to 2 teaspoonfuls. Older children: 1 tablespoonful. Adult: 1 to 2 tablespoonfuls. There are many ways of taking castor oil. Heat the glass or spoon, put in some orange or lemon juice, then the oil, then more juice. Open the mouth wide and put the oil far back. Have more juice at hand to swallow immediately after. Chilling the mouth by holding a piece of ice in it for a few minutes also helps to disguise the taste. A couple of tablespoonfuls of lemon or orange juice with a quarter of a teaspoonful of soda mixed thoroughly with the oil will make it effervesce so that it is not unpleasant to take. If the dose is vomited, wait a little while, then give another. Do not give directly before nor directly after a meal. _Olive oil_ is often taken in doses of one or two teaspoonfuls after meals to regulate the bowels or to help people gain weight or when the appetite is small. It is also used to rub into the skin of under-nourished babies and to rub sick people, especially if the skin is very dry. After rubbing with oil always wipe the skin with a towel. _Vaseline_ is used to grease sore and chafed parts. A little may be inserted into the nostrils for a cold. Camphorated vaseline is especially good for this. In case of an irritating cough that keeps a child from sleeping, a little plain pure vaseline may be put in the mouth, and it will be found very soothing. Vaseline is also used to grease such utensils as nozzles and to put on the parts to which poultices or fomentations are to be applied. _Soda_ may be used for burns (moisten and apply as a paste), as a gargle (one teaspoonful to a pint of water), as an enema (the same proportion), for colds (a teaspoonful in a quart of water to be taken internally in the course of each day), and in bilious attacks, water with this amount of soda may be given. Also to get a person to vomit, in which case the water should be slightly warm. _Salt_ may be used as a gargle in the same way as soda, and even mixed with soda, also for enemas. Coarse salt, when heated and put into bags, may be used when there is no hot water bag. _Lime water_ is used in mixing the baby's milk and is put in the milk for sick people when they cannot take full strength milk. The usual proportion is two tablespoons of lime water to a half glass of milk, which makes about 1 part of lime water to 3 parts of milk. _Alcohol_ may be used to disinfect the more delicate utensils as the thermometer. _Most alcohol now obtainable is wood alcohol or denaturated; that is, mixed with powerful poisons, so that it should never touch the mouth._ Never place a bottle of alcohol near a flame. If it is ever necessary to use an alcohol lamp, use the solid alcohol. It is much safer. _Camphorated oil_ is often used to rub the chest and neck with in case of colds. It should be warmed and rubbed in thoroughly. Protect the bedclothes and the patient's clothes with towels. After rubbing, wipe and cover the part with a flannel, to prevent chill. _Spirits of camphor or aromatic spirits of ammonia_, a few drops on a handkerchief or piece of cotton, held five or six inches from the nose, relieves faintness. Inhaling the camphor in this way will often make it easier to breathe through the nose in case of a head cold. Fifteen drops of aromatic spirits of ammonia in a tablespoonful of water may be given to anyone recovering from a faint or to relieve nausea. _Flaxseed tea_ is an old-fashioned remedy for coughs. Pour a quart of boiling water over two tablespoonfuls of flaxseed and let it simmer for two or three hours, or until reduced to about a pint of tea. Strain through a fine strainer several times so that it will not be stringy, flavor with lemon, and add honey or sugar. Put in a covered jar, and take a teaspoonful at a time to relieve irritation in the throat. _The Daily Clean-Out._--People, sick or well, should have a bowel movement once or twice a day. Taking medicine for this purpose is a very bad habit. If healthy people have the proper exercise and food, and drink plenty of good water, medicine is not necessary. Eating coarse grained food, as bran muffins, corn meal porridge, fruits, and vegetables, drinking plenty of water, exercising in the open air, and having a regular time for going to the lavatory (immediately after breakfast and the last thing at night before retiring are suggested times) are habits that are usually sufficient to keep the bowels in good order. If the waste matter is not carried off by the bowel movements, the body will in time become poisoned by the decayed substance in the intestines, and illness follows. Many headaches, "tired feelings," "blues," and even appendicitis may be caused by constipation. People who are sick and therefore deprived of taking exercise to help in keeping their bowels regular, need to have very special attention paid to their diet and to have plenty of drinking water always at hand. Also they should have bedpan or whatever other attention they need _regularly_, and when asked for, _immediately_. _Chill_, if due to exposure, may be treated by giving a warm bath or a foot bath, and putting to bed between warm blankets and with hot water bags. Rub briskly under the covers and give a warm drink such as tea, coffee, milk, etc. Some Common Ills and Their Treatment When a chill is not merely due to being cold, give the same treatment except the rubbing, take the temperature, and if there is fever, send for the doctor, as it may be the beginning of an illness. _Colds or cramps_, or pain in the bowels may be caused by constipation, by gas, by undigested food, by the monthly period or more serious causes. Apply heat (hot water bag or fomentation), sip hot water in which is a little baking soda (one-half teaspoonful to a cup), or a few drops of peppermint. Try a hot foot bath. Lie down and keep very quiet with a hot water bag at feet. If pain continues, except in the case of the monthly illness, empty the stomach either by putting the finger down the throat or by drinking warm water and soda until vomiting starts. Take an enema or a dose of castor oil. If the pain still continues, send for a doctor. _Convulsions._ Send for a doctor at once. Loosen all clothing, undress if possible. Watch and prevent patient from hurting herself. Do not try to restrain. Try to force a spoonhandle wound with a bandage between the teeth, to prevent biting of tongue. Keep lying down with head slightly raised. As soon as possible, administer enema or dose of castor oil. Put ice bag on head and hot water bottle to feet. Keep warm. A child may be put into a warm bath and held until convulsions subside. Keep very quiet and handle as little as possible when the convulsion is over, as handling may cause a repetition of the twitching. _Croup._ Give steam inhalation. Keep a kettle of very warm water in the room. If this is not possible, fill the bathroom with steam by turning on the hot water, and take the patient there. Put hot fomentations to neck, chest, and abdomen. Send for doctor, who will usually order medicine to make the child vomit, which brings some relief. _Earache._ Use hot applications against the ear. A heated glass or a cup in which there is a cloth wrung in very hot water, held against the ear may be found very comforting. Never put drops nor anything else into the ear canal. Either send for the doctor or take the patient to him, as there may be a developing abscess which needs to be opened. _Fever._ Patient should go to bed in a well ventilated room and keep quiet. The bowels should move freely and plenty of water be taken. Bathing the hands, face and neck or rubbing with alcohol gives relief, especially if there is restlessness. Only liquid food should be given, and even that should not be urged. _Headaches._ The commonest causes of frequent headaches are eye-strain and indigestion. The cure is being fitted with glasses and taking a proper diet. Rest and quiet, careful eating, cold compresses to the head, a hot water bag to the feet, or a foot bath will usually relieve an ordinary headache. Sometimes, as when there is constipation, a dose of castor oil is necessary. An enema will often give instant relief. Never take headache medicines unless a doctor has specially ordered it. These medicines may contain powerful poisons. The danger of taking them is that while for the time being they may relieve the headache, the _cause_ of the headache _remains_, and the headache returns unless the cause, such as eye-strain or indigestion, is removed. _Hiccoughs_ can be usually stopped by drinking a glass of water in sips while holding the breath. They are usually caused by eating too fast or by some form of indigestion. Colds, Their Prevention and Care Everybody knows that colds are "catching." People who are over-tired or under-fed, who stay too much in either under-heated or over-heated rooms, or who do not bathe regularly, or who do not get exercise enough in the open air, are those most likely to catch cold. If you have a cold yourself, stay away from others if possible, and do all in your power to prevent others coming close to you. Cover the mouth when coughing or sneezing, use paper or old rags instead of handkerchiefs and then burn them; wash your hands before touching things others are to use, and use separate dishes, which should be kept entirely apart from the family dishes and washed separately. If such precautions are taken by the first member of the family to take cold, it would seldom spread through the family. When people around you have colds, avoid getting close to them, gargle often, take deep breaths of fresh air whenever possible, wash your hands often and keep them away from your nose and mouth. You do not need to be told that the handkerchief used by anyone with a cold is full of germs. It should be kept from touching other things and should never be left lying around. If, at the first signs of a cold, a good dose of castor oil is taken, a glass of hot lemonade and a hot bath before going to bed, a cold may be "broken up," as we say. In mild weather, the windows may be left open, but if the weather is very cold it is better to air the room from another room, in order to keep an even temperature, but there should be good ventilation. If the throat is sore, gargling and a cold compress to the neck will bring relief. If there is fever and headache, you have already been told what to do. Anyone with a cold should eat very lightly and drink plenty of water. They should be as quiet as possible and get all the rest and sleep possible. Camphorated or plain vaseline may be put in the nostrils, and if there is a cough, plain vaseline may be taken internally--placed on the tongue at the back of the mouth. A spoonful of flaxseed tea taken as often as necessary to relieve irritation may bring relief. Inhalations are helpful in hoarseness. Never give any cough medicines except what are ordered by a doctor. If the symptoms continue after the first night it is advisable to call a doctor, as what seems a slight cold may be the beginning of a serious illness, as measles, scarlet fever, pneumonia, etc. If there is earache, rapid breathing, great weakness or sleepiness the doctor should be called at once. Any symptom that lasts after a cold, as pain in one part, weakness, or high temperature, needs a doctor's attention. Food for the Sick Food for the sick should be light and easily digested. Generally the doctor says what may be eaten. Such foods as the following are included in so-called invalid foods: Milk, milk soups, eggs, raw and soft-cooked, rennet, custards, ice creams, albumin water, well cooked cereals, gruels, broths, toasts, milk toast, jellies made with gelatine, such as lemon and wine jelly; macaroni, spaghetti, well-cooked bread (never fresh bread), tea, coffee, cocoa. Sick people should have their meals as regularly as possible, at regular hours and promptly and attractively served. The tray, the dishes, the tray-cloth, should be spotlessly clean, and the tray should not be over-loaded with dishes or food. If it is necessary to bring all the food for a meal to the room on the tray at once in order to save steps, remove some of it, perhaps the dessert, until the patient is ready for it. Before leaving the room to prepare the tray, arrange everything so that the patient may eat the food as soon as it is brought. As a rule it is better for the sick member of the family to have her meals served before the family sits down to the table, so that she may have her food fresh and hot, and not get tired waiting. Try to have food that the patient likes, if possible. If she does not like what may be served her, it may be served so attractively that her appetite may be tempted. All food should be tasted before serving. Serve hot food hot, and cold food cold. Milk is the most nourishing of liquid foods. If it is to be heated, do not let it boil. Always take the chill off milk served to children. Generally speaking, cooked food is better than uncooked, even fruits. Baked apples or apple sauce, for example, are safer to give the sick than raw apples. Toast is better than bread. Toast upon which the butter has melted should not be given to a sick person. Have the toast hot, and butter each mouthful as eaten. Bread should be at least one day old before being given to a sick person. Hot breads, such as fresh rolls and biscuits, are not good foods for ill people. Fried foods should be kept from invalids and children. The best way to prepare a potato for an invalid is to bake it. It should be served when it is light and mealy, and never after it has become soggy. The best way of cooking meat is to broil it, having the outside well browned, and the inside soft and juicy, never dry and hard. A Tray for Liquid and Soft Food The tray should be large enough to hold two glasses or a cup and saucer and a glass, as well as salt or sugar. Put two spoons on the tray, and if the patient is using a tube or a feeder, put that on the tray. One of the glasses should contain fresh water. Offer a glass of water before and after the nourishment. The tray for soft solids. Suppose the meal is to be boiled rice, or other cereal, and toast. The tray should have a fresh doilie, salt, sugar (covered), a glass of water, two teaspoons, a knife, if butter is allowed on the toast, and a small pitcher of milk or cream for the rice. Put the cereal in a deep saucer or small bowl, cover with a plate or saucer and rest on another plate. Spread a small napkin on another plate. Put the toast on it, then wrap the napkin around it to keep hot. Sick people should have plenty of water to drink. Besides having a pitcher of fresh water and a glass where it may be easily reached, always put a glass of fresh cool water on the tray when food or medicine are brought. While ice water is bad for both sick and well people, the water should be cool enough to be agreeable and refreshing. Water that is chilled to the right temperature by being kept in the ice chest, bottled, is preferable. It should be drunk slowly and not gulped down. Water standing in the room should be kept covered at all times. Feeding Helpless Patients A patient is often so weak that she cannot lift her head in order to eat. In this case she would be given liquids through straws or by spoon or "feeder." Sometimes by putting a small quantity of liquid in a glass, two tablespoonfuls, a patient is enabled to drink without spilling a drop. If necessary, slip one hand under the pillow, raise the head a little, holding the glass to the lips with the other. Anyone lying down should take food very slowly. If solid, it should be cooked, especially well, as there is danger of choking. Tubes should be washed immediately after using. If used continuously they should be cleaned with a tube brush made for that purpose. Straws should be burned or destroyed. If feeding with a spoon, be careful that neither the food nor the spoon burns the lips or mouth. Feed slowly and a little at a time, allowing plenty of time between mouthfuls. Occupying and Amusing the Sick When people are recovering from an illness, or when they are what we call chronic invalids, they often enjoy and are helped by being amused or occupied. At this time a Girl Scout may be very helpful. First of all, she should be cheerful herself. Then she should be able to play two or three quiet games, such as cards, dominoes, checkers, and be able to read aloud and to tell cheerful and amusing stories. Children may often be kept quiet and happy by hearing little rhymes recited. It might be a good idea for every Girl Scout to be able to tell three short stories and three funny stories, know three conundrums and three short poems, play three quiet games of cards, play checkers, play dominoes and know three puzzles. Excitement is always bad for sick people and they become tired easily, so they should not be read to, talked to, nor played with for too long an interval, even if they seem to wish it themselves. The Scout must always remember that these things are being done for the pleasure of the sick person, and she must be very patient, to let the games or stories be of their own choosing if they wish it, and to avoid being noisy herself. Daily Routine There should be a regular daily routine. Have regular hours for feeding, bathing, giving treatment and medicines, giving the bedpan, etc. Be punctual. Usually the first thing to do in the morning is to close or open the window as necessary, and to give the patient a bedpan. Have it warm. Take temperature, pulse and respiration and record them. Bring a basin of warm water, soap, towel, etc., to wash hands and face, and a glass of water to brush teeth. Tidy the hair. Straighten up the room a little. Prepare and serve patient's breakfast. After an hour the bed bath may be taken, but a tub bath should not be taken until two hours after breakfast. Make the bed. Clean up the room. If the patient is well enough, let her read or see visitors after this. Serve the dinner. After dinner, open the windows, lower the shades, and let the patient rest and sleep if possible for at least an hour. Sick people need more rest than well people and should have a regular hour for rest in the daytime. If they sleep, so much the better, as it has been proved that patients who take a nap during the day sleep better at night. After four o'clock give a drink of some kind of hot or cold substance, as needed or desired--broth, milk, lemonade. In the late afternoon sick people are often tired and restless. Change of position, rearrangement of the pillows or a good rub give comfort and relieve the restlessness. Diversion of some kind, nothing noisy or exciting, may serve the same purpose. It may be found wise to delay the bath until this time of day as bathing has a soothing effect. Between supper and bedtime the sick person should be kept from excitement. This is a good time for reading aloud or allowing them to read for themselves, but a very poor time to see visitors. _Preparations for the Night._ Bring in all the necessities for washing the hands and face and brushing the teeth and combing the hair, and help where needed. Change the nightgown (it is better to have a gown for the day and one for the night), brush the crumbs from the bed, make the sheet smooth, shake up the pillows and straighten out the bedclothes, having extra covers handy in case of need. Fill the hot water bag, attend to the fire, if there is one, and arrange everything in the room just as it will be needed for the night. Give a warm drink, and allow the patient to rinse the mouth (or, if wished, the brushing of the teeth may be delayed until this time). The last thing to do for the sick person is to give a good rub, paying special attention to the bony parts (lower end of spine, shoulder-blades, hips, knees, ankles). Then arrange the ventilation. Before settling a sick person for the night, be sure that everything about the room is done, as any moving about after she is prepared to sleep may tend to disturb her and prevent her from going to sleep. 5. THE HEALTH GUARDIAN FOR GIRL SCOUTS Has the town you live in a free swimming pool with instructors and well arranged hours for little children, older girls and boys and grown-ups? Can you step out after school and have a couple of hours on a well kept tennis court? Is there a good golf course reasonably near, with convenient trolley service? Are there plenty of playgrounds, so that the children are off the streets? And, since grounds are not enough, are there friendly young play-leaders connected with them, to get the children together and teach them all sorts of games and sports? If none of these things are to be found, or not enough of them, wouldn't you like to have them? "Of course I should," you reply, "but what can I do about it? I am only a girl, and I can't get all these things by just wishing for them!" But that's just what you can do. All these things in a town mean that the town is looking out for the health of its young people. Exercise is one of the most important means of preserving health, and most of the large cities nowadays are working hard to see that no child shall be out of reach of a good park, a good swimming pool and a good playground. This all comes under the city government and as this is a democratic form of government, these things are all arranged by vote. That is, the citizens vote to use the public money for such things and vote for the officials who shall spend the money for them. Do you see that if you make up your mind now about the village improvements you want, you can vote for them later and get them? Women are naturally interested in all that happens to children, and if all the women of a community should get together and vote for everything that concerned the health and happiness and good education of children, can't you see what happy days their school-days would be? If you saw "Public Health" at the head of a chapter, you might not think it looked very interesting; but when you once get the idea that if your mother had had her say on the Public Health Board you would have had a fine skating pond with a good skate-house, last winter, and sunny, well-aired school rooms to study in, with a big gymnasium for basket ball in bad weather, you may be more interested in the merit badge for Public Health called "Health Guardian!" Remember that Public Health is simply good housekeeping, applied to the community. It is a subject which women are sure to take up more and more, and a Girl Scout who has given the matter a little thought and study is going to make a good citizen later on, and will be certain to have her advice asked--and taken--in the matter of making her town healthy and happy. For instance, if the desks in the public schools are not of the right height and shape, the children are bound to suffer in their health and hygiene. It is the business of the State to see that all public buildings, schools, theatres, factories, etc., have a certain amount of light and air to the cubic foot, because so much is necessary for health. It is the business of the State to see that only a certain number of hours a day should constitute a day's work. This is because a certain amount of rest is a necessity for all citizens. It is the business of the State to see that food and water can be brought into the community. Also that they be kept pure, both in transportation and after they reach the community. This includes the policing of all reservoirs and the filtering of the water; the refrigerating of meat and milk; the condemning of rotten fruit and vegetables; the collecting and disposal of all garbage and waste. It is the business of the state to prevent spitting in public places, (one of the greatest sources of public infection); to prevent the use of common drinking utensils, towels, etc.; to insist on the isolation of contagious diseases and the placarding of the houses where they occur. In order to carry on these great wise policies the state should offer free clinics where citizens can find out what is the matter with them and how to prevent it, and trained community nurses for the sick. Do you see what a wonderful power an intelligent woman can be in the community she lives in? Women ought to be much better, really, in this public housekeeping than men, because most of them have had to learn to do it on a small scale, and know how necessary light, air, rest, exercise and cleanliness are. But, you may say, as yet, I am too young to vote, anyway; what can I do? The answer is very simple: every citizen, whether she is young or old, whether she has a vote or not, can find out the laws of the town she lives in and help to enforce them! And the most important of these laws are those which affect the public safety and the public health. Whether there is a Public Health Commissioner or a Town Board or a Village Superintendent or only a District Nurse to appeal to, there is sure to be somebody whose business it is to listen to violation of the law. If every troop of Girl Scouts knew the health laws of their town, _and helped to get them obeyed_, there would be a wonderful lessening of epidemics and a wonderful advance in the health and beauty of our towns. If the Girl Scouts stood, all over the country, for the intelligent guardianship of the public health and recreation, they would rapidly become one of the greatest and most respected organizations in America, for this reason alone. 6. THE HEALTH WINNER "_... For since a little self-control, since a clean and elementary diet, pure water, openness of the body to sun and air, a share of honest work, and some degree of mental peace and largesse, are the simple conditions of health, and are or ought to be, accessible to everybody--_ "_To neglect these is sheer treason._" _--Toward Democracy, by Edward Carpenter._ Five Points of Health for Girl Scouts A cheerful Scout, a clean Scout, a helpful Scout, is a well Scout. She is the only Scout that really _is prepared_. She not only knows the laws of health, she lives them: she stands tall, she plays daily in the open air, she rests and sleeps at night, and conserves her energy at all times, she is careful to get the right amount of air, water, sun and food each day, and perhaps most important of all, she keeps clean. 1. _Stand Tall_--Every Scout should be recognized a long way off, not only by her uniform, but by her erect carriage. In sitting, the lower back should be against the back of the chair. In bending forward to read or write, bend straight from the hips. At Scout meetings practice sitting without support for the back. When "at ease" during drill, stand with feet apart and parallel and with hands hanging free. When resting, lie flat on the back without pillows. Correct posture is obtained by balancing the different parts of the body--hips, head, chest in a straight line, so that the bony framework bears the weight. The muscles and ligaments will not then be strained, and the bones will not be forced into an abnormal position. Two rules to remember are: "Stand tall" and "Keep your spine long." 2. _Take Exercise_--If you have watched soldiers obey commands in drill you know how quickly their joints and muscles work. The setting-up exercises given in the Handbook have been planned to preserve the power of joints and muscles, and to prevent them from becoming like rusty machines. These exercises should be taken with windows open, if not out of doors. Clothing should be light and loose, and corsets removed. These exercises are not to be considered a substitute for vigorous outdoor work or play, but only as supplementary to or when these are impossible. The day should be planned to include at least an hour and a half of vigorous activity in the open air. This will take different forms, according to the place and season, so that in the summer one may swim, row or paddle, or play tennis or any other game outdoors, and in the winter skate, coast or snowshoe. However, the best all year round exercise, and the simplest and easiest to get is walking. Five miles a day is an adequate average. Even walking alone is good exercise, but walking in a group or two and two is better, because keeping step, singing, whistling and talking and laughing together add enormously to the exhilaration of motion and of sun, wind or rain in the face. A Girl Scout should avoid unusual exercise before, during and immediately following menstruation. However, she should remember that a reasonable amount of exercise at this time is quite normal and beneficial, except where there is an actual disorder of some sort. In this case a physician should be consulted. 3. _Rest and Conserve Energy_--Go to bed early and sleep from eight to eleven hours, according to age. Sleep with windows open all the year round. Rest sometime during the day, flat on the back if possible, but even five minutes sitting quietly with hands in the lap and eyes closed is better than nothing. The following table shows the number of hours of sleep that are needed at different ages: _Age_ _Hours of Sleep_ 10 and 11 years 9-1/2 to 11 12 and 13 years 9 to 10-1/2 14 and 15 years 8-1/2 to 10 16 and 17 years 8 to 9-1/2 18 and 19 years 8 to 9 20 and over at least 8 Save Your Eyes The reason it is important to rest and to sleep enough is because it is while at rest that the body regains energy lost during activity, and stores it up for future work and play. There are other ways of saving energy, and one of them is by keeping the body in such good repair that like a good machine it does its work with a minimum expenditure of force and heat. This is the main reason for the setting-up exercises, or indeed for any sort of exercises. Perhaps the single best way to save energy is by saving your eyes. There is almost no work or play that does not involve the use of our eyes. If people are blind they can learn to do many things without vision, but it is infinitely harder than with it. Modern life, especially in cities, makes a constant demand on our eyes, and more than this, the demand is on one part of the eyes--the muscles concerned in near work. The best way to rest the eyes, and one which not only rests the tired parts but exercises the parts that are not used, is by doing things that will involve _distant vision_. Walking and looking far ahead and far away on every side rests the eyes best of all, and this is one reason why a good walk will often clear up a headache. Another way to insure distant vision is by riding backward in a car. Then as the landscape flows past you, your eye muscles relax to the position needed for distant vision. If you cannot walk or ride and are doing close work, like sewing or reading, look up and "at nothing" every once in a while. The following are some important rules to remember in saving your eyes: Rest your "near" eye muscles by looking at distant objects and places. Do not work facing a light or where the rays from a light cross your field of vision directly. Work so far as possible by indirect or reflected light. If you must work near uncovered artificial lights, wear an eye-shade. When sewing or writing have the light at your left, unless you are left-handed. This is to keep the shadow of your hands from the work. Avoid a glare or light that is in streaks or bars of alternate dark and bright. Diffused, even light is best. Have your eyes examined by a competent oculist immediately: If you have headaches, If the eyes sting or burn after using, If print or other objects dance or blur, If you must get close to your work to see it, If near work tires your eyes or you, If there is the slightest irritation or soreness about the lids or other parts. How to Avoid Muscle Strain Girls and women in attempting to live an outdoor life or indeed when trying to do many of the things numbered among the Scout activities, such as First Aid, Home Nursing and Hiking, often give themselves quite unnecessary pain and fatigue from lifting, pulling and carrying weights in the wrong way. Ability to carry and lift or move is not so much dependent upon absolute strength as it is on knowing how. The whole body, so far as it is a physical mechanism, may be thought of as a series of levers, of which the muscles, bones, and joints make up the parts and are fulcrum, power arm or weight arm as the case may be. Without going into the details of bodily structure or even knowing the names of the different bones and muscles, it is possible to learn a few simple things about the right use of these levers that will be useful at all times. Certain parts of the body are more able to do heavy work than others, and the first thing to remember is that the upper part of the back, the shoulders and the upper arms are stronger than the lower back, the abdomen and the lower arms. Therefore, whenever you are trying to lift or move an object, see if you cannot use these stronger parts. If the arms are held away from the body when lifting, pulling, throwing or pushing, the muscles of the upper arm, the shoulders and the upper back will be brought into play. If the arms are held close to the body, the lower-arm muscles are unduly taxed and in trying to help them out, pressure is made on the abdominal and pelvic muscles, which are not fitted to bear this sort of strain. Therefore, in carrying a bag or suitcase, where this is absolutely unavoidable, try to swing the arm free from the body, so as to use the upper arm and back muscles for the weight. Another important way to save strain is by pushing instead of pulling. It is almost impossible to push anything so hard as to injure your back or abdominal muscles. It is almost impossible, on the other hand, to pull even a relatively light weight without some strain. If you will think of how a horse in harness actually exerts his strength in drawing a wagon, you will see that what he does is to _push_ against the straps, and it is the straps that _pull_ the wagon. Even the strongest horse could not pull a wagon with his teeth very far, or pull something tied only to the back leg muscles. _Get behind and push_ is the rule to remember, and never resort to _pulling_ until you have tried every device for pushing instead. If you _must_ pull, try to use heavy muscles, such as _leg_ muscles, to do it with. Often a weight may be lifted or pulled by getting the foot under or in back and using the arms only to steer with. This applies particularly to objects like trunks or bureaus. Always take advantage of any natural leverage that you can and if you must move something heavy, do not lift it at once and attempt to carry it, but lift one end and swing or shove it and then lift the other end and shove it. If you will watch expressmen at work you will notice that they roll boxes and trunks, holding them almost on end and tipping them just enough to turn them along their shortest axis. In this way the boxes carry themselves, so far as their main weight is concerned. Carrying a weight on the head or shoulders is another way of converting a pull into a push, and this is taken advantage of by peasant women in Europe, who often are seen carrying heavy weights to market in baskets perched on their heads, while they stride along arm-free. A knapsack strapped on to the shoulders is not only more convenient because it leaves the arms and hands free to swing naturally or use for other purposes, but because the weight is distributed and is carried by means of heavy muscles pushing up under the strap. A weight should be distributed over a set of muscles as evenly as possible, and this is the reason for suspending a knapsack from two shoulders instead of one, when possible. Finally, in doing any sort of lifting or pulling, if the muscles that are to be used are contracted before grasping the weight they will be able to do their work with far less effort. Try lifting a small weight like a book in two ways--first, have your hand and fingers relaxed and limp when you grasp it, and see how heavy it seems and how hard it is to contract your muscles properly while lifting it. Then drop the book and go at it again, this time anticipating its weight and contracting your hand and finger muscles before grasping it. See how easily it comes up. Try this same thing with heavier weights, and learn _always to contract the muscle before taking the load_. In carrying a weight for any distance it is well to shift it from one arm to another, always preparing the muscles by contracting them before the weight is assumed. Using the muscles so as to take advantage of their lever-like qualities in the best way, contracting them before loading, and pushing instead of pulling, go to make up what is sometimes called "getting a purchase." 4. _Supply Daily Need for Air, Sun, Water and Food_--Besides exercise and rest there are other controllable factors upon which health depends. These are air, heat and light of the sun, water and food. To grow and work properly the body needs plenty of each of these. _Air_--If you cannot work or play outdoors you can still bring out of doors in by opening your windows at frequent intervals. You will find that work goes better, and that you do not tire so easily if you make it a rule to open the windows and doors and move about the room for five minutes every hour or two. Sleep with windows open or out-of-doors. Camp and hike as often as possible. Work in the garden. Play out-of-door games. _Heat_--The proper temperature of the body is between 98 and 99 degrees Fahrenheit. Human life depends upon the maintenance of this temperature at all times, and very slight changes either up or down interfere seriously with all the other life processes. The main source of heat is from food consumed, or really burned, in the body. Artificial heating in houses helps conserve the body heat, as does clothing. But clothes and shelter may make you overheated, which is nearly as bad as being cold; they may also shut out fresh air. Clothes should not be too heavy nor too tight. Shoes should have soles straight on the inner side, and be broad enough to allow the toes full play, and have low heels. Shoes that are comfortable to hike in are apt to be the best for all the time wear. At night the clothes worn during the day should be aired and dried thoroughly. This will help much in maintaining the right body temperature, because clothes become damp from wearing, and dampness uses up body heat. _Sunlight_--Sunlight is one of the best health bringers known. Little children--and grown people, too--suffering from the most serious forms of tuberculosis, that of the bones, get well if they are kept in the sunlight. In one of the finest hospitals for children in the world, in Switzerland, the main treatment is to have the children play outdoors without clothes in the sunlight, and they do this even when there is heavy winter snow on the ground. Human beings droop and die without the sun, just as plants do, though it takes longer to kill them. It is a gloomy person who does not feel happier in the sun, and a happy and cheerful person is generally healthy. So get into the sun whenever you can. Walk on the sunny side of the street, and open your windows to the sun whenever you can. However, in hot climates and in the warmest summer days, remember that the sun can injure as well as help, and do not expose the head or body unnecessarily. _Water_--As about three-quarters of our body weight is water, the solid portions of bone, muscle, and so forth, constituting only one-quarter, and as considerable water is given off each day by evaporation from skin and lungs and with excreta, the loss must be made up. In addition to the water taken with meals and contained in the food a Girl Scout should drink at least six tumblers of water daily. This is a quart and a half. One glass should be taken on arising and before breakfast, two between breakfast and lunch, two between lunch and dinner, and one before going to bed. Be sure the water is pure, and boil any water the purity of which is doubted in the slightest. Water kept cool in the ice chest, or in a jar with a moist cover, is better than ice water, both because cool water actually quenches thirst more easily, being more readily absorbed than ice cold water, and because it is difficult to control the purity of ice. _Food_--Food should be clean and kept clean. Growing girls can tell whether they are eating enough of the right sort of food, and if they are getting the best out of it, by seeing whether they are up to the right weight for their height and age. A chart is given at the end of this section showing the standard weight for each height at each age. The following are good rules to follow in making your daily food habits: Do not eat between meals. Eat slowly and chew food thoroughly. Eat freely of coarse cereals and breads. Eat meat only once a day. Have green vegetables, salad or fruit every day. Drink as much milk as possible, but no coffee or tea. If you do not have at least one bowel movement a day it is a sign of constipation, which means the accumulation of waste material from food in the intestine. Exercise, especially walking, eating coarse vegetables, coarse breads and coarse cereals, and fruit, and drinking enough water will help the bowels to move properly. Constipation is not only an unclean habit of the body, but it is dangerous, because the waste matter decays and poison is carried all over the body. Headaches, indigestion, bad breath and chronic fatigue are some of the results. 5. _Keep Clean_--A Girl Scout should be sure that the air, water and food that she allows to enter her body are clean. Be sure that they are pure when they reach her, and keep them so by keeping her body, clothes and room clean with the help of sun, soap and water. You have probably heard of germs, microbes and bacteria. These are names for the same organisms, which are tiny forms of plant life unseen by the eye, and of which our unaided senses give us no knowledge. They exist everywhere and in many forms. Most of them are harmless to human life, and many of them are useful, as, for example, one that grows on the roots of peas and beans and helps the plants to extract nitrogen from the air. Some bacteria, however, are harmful, and these are known as disease germs, as they are active in producing diseases, especially those diseases which we know as contagious. The dangerous germs nearly all live in dust and dirt and in dark places. When we clean house and dispose of waste material and bring air and sunlight into dark and dirty places we are doing more than removing unpleasant sights and smells, we are destroying the breeding places of disease. Every girl wants a clear skin. Proper food, water and exercise give this; but it is also necessary to keep the surface clean by taking a hot bath with soap at least twice a week, and a cold or tepid sponge and rubdown the other days. Besides the loose dirt which comes on the body from the outside, perspiration and oil come from the inside through the skin pores, and when accumulated give a disagreeable odor. Special attention is needed to guard against this odor, particularly under the armpits, and soap and water should be used daily. A hot bath is relaxing and opens the pores. A cold bath is stimulating and closes the pores. A hot bath is best taken at night, or if taken in the morning, follow by a cool sponge or shower. Do not take a cold plunge bath unless advised to do so by a physician. Always wash the hands immediately before handling or preparing food and before eating. Always wash hands after going to the bathroom. Keep nails short, and clean with nail brush each time the hands are washed and with orange stick when necessary. During menstruation it is particularly important to keep the body and clothes scrupulously clean, by bathing or washing with plenty of water. _Hair_--Air and a good brushing every day will keep the hair in good condition. It should be washed once in two weeks. Wash with hot soapsuds and rinse thoroughly, using first hot, then cooler, and finally cold water. Keep the hair brush clean by washing in cold water and soap and a little ammonia at least once a week. The brush should be dried in the sun, not by artificial heat. _Ears_--Keep the outer surfaces of the ears clean, but leave the inner part alone. Do not poke for wax or put oil in the ear. _Feet_--Bathe the feet in hot water at night, when tired. In the morning bathe with cold water after hot, to harden them for walking. Keep the toenails clean, and cut evenly. _Teeth_--Next to a fresh, sweet skin the most beautiful feature of a truly beautiful woman is her teeth. The basis of beautiful teeth is a clean mouth. Teeth should be brushed at least twice a day. The best times are after breakfast and the last thing before going to bed. A brush with medium soft bristles should be used. Clean a new brush thoroughly with soap and water and soak in cold water to set the bristles. A toothbrush should be cleansed and aired and if possible sunned every day. Never use a brush that has begun to lose its bristles, or which has become caked or yellow. Paste or powder that is not gritty should be used. Always brush away from the gums; that is, brush the upper teeth down, and the lower teeth up. Clean the roof of the mouth and the tongue. It is a good plan to have the teeth examined at least every six months. Then any repairs or cleaning that may be needed can be easily attended to and much future pain, trouble and expense saved. _Eyes_--Wash eyes carefully for "sleepers" in the morning. Bathing with alternate hot and cold will rest and strengthen the muscles. _General Safeguards_--Do not use public towels or drinking cups. Do not use towels, handkerchiefs or other toilet articles or glasses or cups or table utensils used by others. Avoid sneezing or coughing into another person's face. Measurements Every Girl Scout should know her measurements, including her height, her weight, her waist measure, her chest girth and her chest expansion. Not only are these things convenient to know when ordering uniforms and buying clothes, but any physical director, gymnasium teacher or doctor can tell her if these are in good proportion for her age and general development and advise her as to how she may go about to improve them if they need it. The accompanying table (given in the last section of the Health Record) shows the right height and weight for girls at different ages. The way to consult it is as follows: First, find your height by measuring yourself without shoes against a wall. The best way to do is to have someone lay a ruler on top of your head so that it extends to the wall and touches it at right angles. Then the place should be marked and the distance measured with a yard stick or tape. Count a half inch as the next highest inch; thus if you measure 59-1/2 inches call this 60. If you measure 59-1/4 count it as an even 59. Stand with heels against the wall, and head high: "Stand Tall." Second, find your weight with only indoor clothes on. Take the weight to the nearest pound, counting as before a half pound or three-quarters as the next highest and disregard the amounts less than one-half. Then take your card and look along the top row for the age to which you are nearest, counting six months past one year mark as the next year. Thus, if you are within six months of being 13, count yourself 13. Then look at the left-hand upright row of figures and find your height in inches. Then with a rule or paper find the corresponding number of pounds for your height and age. You will see that a girl may be any number of inches tall within wide limits, but her weight must correspond to her height rather than simply to her age. A girl should be within ten per cent of the proper weight for her age and height. If you find that you are underweight, do not be frightened or discouraged, as it is quite easy to get up to normal by following the health rules, particularly those relating to food, water and sleep. Drink as much milk as possible, and eat fresh vegetables and don't spoil your appetite by eating too many sweets or nibbling between meals. If you find that after a month you are still more than ten per cent underweight, then ask your parents if you can see the doctor or consult the school physician. A Health Record Chart for Girl Scouts Girl Scouts who are working for "The Health Winner" badge should keep an account of their progress for three months, and a good way to do it is to have a Health Chart to fill out daily and bring the record for each week to their Captain, at troop meeting. The chart given below is suggested as a model, and copies will be obtainable from National Headquarters, but troops can make up their own. Every Scout is naturally a Health Crusader, and she can use the blanks provided by the National Modern Health Crusade if she so desires. In this case the first two points can be combined, which relate to washing hands and face, and an additional point inserted in place of the second, to the effect that "I ate no sweets, candy, cake or ice cream between meals today." DAILY RECORD OF POINTS _Scout_.......................... 1. I did my setting-up exercises _Checks for Week Commencing Monday_ No...... 2. I walked, worked or played | Pt.|Mon.|Tues.|Wed.|Thurs.|Fri.|Sat.|Sun. Outdoors at least | | | | | | | | a half-hour | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 2a. Time spent walking | 1| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 2b. Distance walked | 2| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 3. I went to bed early | | | | | | | | last night, and slept | | | | | | | | at least 8 hours | 2a| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 4. I slept with my window open| 2b| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 5. I drank six glasses of | | | | | | | | water between meals | 3| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 6. I ate no sweets, candy, | | | | | | | | cake, sweet drinks or ice | | | | | | | | cream, except as dessert | 4| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 7. I ate green vegetables | | | | | | | | or fruit or salad | 5| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 8. I drank no tea or coffee | 6| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 9. I drank milk or had milk | | | | | | | | in some other form | 7| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 10. I had a bowel movement | 8| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 11. I washed my hands before | | | | | | | | eating, and after going to | | | | | | | | the bathroom | 9| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 12. I had a bath (at least | | | | | | | | two a week must be recorded) | 10| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 13. I brushed my teeth twice | | | | | | | | during the day | 11| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 14. I brushed my hair night | | | | | | | | and morning | 12| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 15. I shampooed my hair | | | | | | | | (at least once every four | | | | | | | | weeks) | 13| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- | 14| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- | 15| | | | | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------- _Date handed to Captain_.................. _Captain's Comment_................................. THE GIRL SCOUT'S HEALTH RECORD RECORD FOR WHOLE PERIOD 1. Posture at beginning: (Comment by Captain)..................... 2. Posture at end: (Comment by Captain)..................... 3. Total distance walked..................... (Must be at least 75 miles) 4. At least three shampoos............................... 5. Any colds during period?.............................. 6. Constipation during period?........................... 7. Answered correctly the following questions: How do you care for your teeth properly?............... Why is it important to care for your eyes?............. How can you rest them?................................. What are points to remember about light for work?...... What is the difference in effect between a hot and a cold bath?..................................... How do you care for feet on a hike?.................... 8. Height in inches at beginning of period............... Weight in pounds at beginning of period............... Standard weight for height and age?................... Difference plus or minus in your weight............... Height in inches at end of period..................... Standard weight for height and age.................... Difference plus or minus in your weight............. If growth is shown what rate is this per month?....... Standard?........................................... RIGHT HEIGHT AND WEIGHT FOR GIRLS Hght.| 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 ins.|yrs. | yrs. |yrs. | yrs.| yrs.| yrs.| yrs.| yrs.| yrs. 47 | 53 | | | | | | | | 48 | 55 | 56 | | | | | | | 49 | 57 | 58 | | | | | | | 50 | 59 | 60 | 61 | | | | | | 51 | 62 | 63 | 64 | | | | | | 52 | 65 | 66 | 67 | | | | | | 53 | 68 | 68 | 69 | 70 | | | | | 54 | 70 | 71 | 72 | 73 | | | | | 55 | 73 | 74 | 75 | 76 | 77 | | | | 56 | 77 | 78 | 79 | 80 | 81 | | | | 57 | 81 | 82 | 83 | 84 | 85 | 86 | | | 58 | 85 | 86 | 87 | 88 | 89 | 90 | 91 | | 59 | 89 | 90 | 91 | 93 | 94 | 95 | 96 | 98 | 60 | | 94 | 95 | 97 | 99 |100 |102 |104 |106 61 | | 99 |101 |102 |104 |106 |108 |109 |111 62 | | 104 |106 |107 |109 |111 |113 |114 |115 63 | | 109 |111 |112 |113 |115 |117 |118 |119 64 | | |115 |117 |118 |119 |120 |121 |122 65 | | |117 |119 |120 |122 |123 |124 |125 66 | | |119 |121 |122 |124 |126 |127 |128 67 | | | |124 |126 |127 |128 |129 |130 68 | | | |126 |128 |130 |132 |133 |134 69 | | | |129 |131 |133 |135 |136 |137 70 | | | | |134 |136 |138 |139 |140 71 | | | | |138 |140 |142 |143 |144 72 | | | | | |145 |147 |148 |149 PREPARED BY DR. THOMAS D. WOOD About what a Girl should gain each month AGE AGE 8 to 11 8 oz. 14 to 16 8 oz. 11 to 14 12 oz. 16 to 18 4 oz. Weights and measures should be taken without shoes and in only the usual indoor clothes. Used by courtesy of the Child Health Organization, 156 Fifth Avenue, New York City. FOOTNOTE: [3] Courtesy of William C. Deming, M.D. SECTION XII SETTING-UP EXERCISES FOR GIRL SCOUTS Our bodies are like machines that need frequent oiling and testing to see that all parts are working right. Or they are like instruments that must be tuned before they are played. If this is not done, the machinery gets rusty and clogged, or the instrument gets out of tune and makes horrid noises. That is the way it is with our bodies; our muscles and joints should be bent and stretched every day to take the kinks out, and keep them strong and flexible. The best way is to tune up every morning for just a few minutes before you put on your clothes, and then again at night to rest the tired parts and exercise the parts that have not been used, so you can even things up. =The Right Position= First of all try to stand in the right position. [Illustration] Stand with the feet side by side, a few inches apart and pointed straight ahead. Many people think you should turn out your toes because they think it looks better. This is not natural. If you stand on a step with one foot even with the edge, and let the other foot hang over the step below, it will hang parallel with the foot you are standing on. That is the way it is meant to go, and people who turn out their toes do so much walking sideways that they have to travel much farther than if they kept their feet pointed in the direction they want to go. [Illustration] Then your legs should come up straight from your ankles; don't stand either on your heels or your toes, but right over the highest part of the arch, which is the strongest part, and best fitted to bear your weight when you are standing still, and brings your hips up to just the right place to hold your body. * * * * * In the lower part of your body are some big heavy bones shaped somewhat like a bowl. This bowl is balanced on the top of your legs, and holds most of your organs. If this bowl is balanced just right, the organs remain in place, the way they are meant to be, but if it is not balanced right, the contents are tipped so that they would come tumbling out if the muscles intended for other work did not hold them in. This is hard on these muscles which have their own work to do, and if they are used to hold up things that should keep their own balance, sooner or later they give way, and there is a sad accident, or a general slump. Then instead of saying, "That foolish person always stood in the wrong position and of course her insides got out of place," we say, "Poor dear so-and-so has given out from overwork and has acute indigestion, or a 'floating kidney,' or 'a bad liver.' How could it have happened?" If your underpinning is all right it is not difficult to be straight above. Let your shoulders hang easily in a straight line under your ears, in the position they will naturally take if from side stretch (fig. 3) the arms drop easily to the side. _Don't arch your chest and throw your shoulders back!_ This is not a slump and does not mean to let your back bow out. If your shoulders are easy you can straighten your back and your head will balance itself, and there you are: a straight upstanding Scout, ready for what comes next. Remember: a) Feet pointing straight ahead. b) Body balanced on legs coming up straight from ankles. c) Shoulders easy under ears. This gives a straight line from top of head through shoulders and hips to between ankles. =General Rules= Stretch to the very tips of your middle fingers--stretching makes your muscles flexible. Breathe in as arms rise and out as they fall. Stand tall. Sit tall. Remember the straight line that comes from the top of your head down to between your ankles. Keep limber, don't let your knees grow stiff. Sit crosslegged on the floor. Sit on your heels. Rise without help from your hands. =The Exercises= Now tune up: begin by repeating each exercise four times; then increase to 8, 12, or 16; never more than 16. 1. Stretch arms down (fig. 1). Swing them forward and stretch up and slightly forward (fig. 2), breathing deep. Let them fall breathing out. Do this slowly counting, up 1 down 2. 2. From (fig. 1) swing arms forward and up (fig. 2) and out to side stretch (fig. 3) coming to full deep breath and stretch as far as you can--count 3. Up 1--side 2--down 3--breathing out. Don't hurry, take time to breathe deep. 3. Stretch arms down, without bending anywhere. Two counts; down 1--relax 2. 4. From arms down (fig. 1) to side stretch (fig. 3). Two counts; to side 1--down 2. This may be done quickly with vigor. 5. From side stretch palms up to upward stretch (fig. 2)--two counts--up 1--side 2. 6. From arms down roll shoulders and arms out and back, stretching arms back and down (fig. 4). Two counts out and down 1--back to position 2. 7. Hands palms down, tips of middle fingers touching, thumb touching chest, elbows level with shoulders (fig. 5); jerk elbows back keeping them up even with shoulders (fig. 6). Two counts,--jerk 1--back to place 2. 8. From side stretch (fig. 3) twist body from waist up, without moving hips (fig. 7). Twist from side to side. Two counts--twist 1--front 2--twist 1--front 2. 9. From side stretch (fig. 3) bend body from side to side keeping straight line from tip of one middle finger to tip of other (fig. 8). Two counts--bend 1--back to position 2--alternate sides. 10. Bend right knee and kick yourself (fig. 9); left knee same. Two counts--kick right 1--kick left 2. Repeat slowly then double quick (running in place). 11. Bend right knee and hip, bringing knee nearly up to chest without bending body (fig. 10); left same--slowly. Then double quick bringing knee only as high as hip. 12. Place hands at back of neck (fig. 11) and rise on toes, bend knees (fig. 12) and rise keeping body upright (do not spread knees or touch heels. If this exercise is too difficult balance with arms side stretch, bring arms down to touch floor as you bend, and to upward stretch as you rise). Count 4:--on toes 1--bend 2--up on toes 3--standing position 4. 13. From upward stretch (fig. 2) bend and touch floor in front of toes (fig. 13). Count two slowly: down 1--up 2. Breathe out as you come down--in as you come up. 14. _Neck Exercises._ Sit crosslegged on floor--hands on knees: head up--chin parallel with the floor. a) turn head to right and then to left--4 counts--right 1--front 2--left 3--front 4. b) droop head from side to side (fig. 14); four counts--right 1--up 2--left 3--up 4. c) drop chin forward (fig. 15); straighten and drop head back (fig. 16). Count 4--down 1--up 2--back 3--up 4. d) turn head and face right (fig. 17) drop chin 1--up 2--back 3 (fig. 18) up 4; keep looking in same direction only up and down; same to left. e) goose-neck; facing front stretch chin out as far as possible (fig. 19); then down and in and up. Count 4--out 1--down 2--in 3--to straight position 4. 15. Lie down on your back and raise first one foot and then the other without bending the knee, two counts--up 1--down 2. 16. Raise both feet without bending knees and touch the floor over your head (fig. 20). Lower slowly. 17. Raise body without bending back, and (if you can) without helping yourself with your hand, and touch your toes with your hands, and your knees with your forehead, without bending your knees (fig. 21). [Illustration: SETTING-UP EXERCISES (Figs. 1-7)] [Illustration: SETTING-UP EXERCISES (Figs. 8-21)] SECTION XIII WOODCRAFT The following section is made up of excerpts from the Woodcraft Manual for Girls, 1918, by Ernest Thompson Seton, copyright by Ernest Thompson Seton, and the Woodcraft League of America, Inc.; used by the kind permission of the author, the Woodcraft League of America, and the publishers, Doubleday, Page & Company. TWELVE SECRETS OF THE WOODS Do you know the twelve secrets of the woods? Do you know the umbrella that stands up spread to show that there is a restaurant in the cellar? Do you know the "manna-food" that grows on the rocks, summer and winter, and holds up its hands in the Indian sign of "innocence," so all who need may know how good it is? Do you know the vine that climbs above the sedge to whisper on the wind "There are cocoanuts in my basement"? Can you tell why the rabbit puts his hind feet down ahead of his front ones as he runs? Can you tell why the squirrel buries every other nut and who it was that planted those shag-barks along the fence? Can you tell what the woodchuck does in midwinter and on what day? Have you learned to know the pale villain of the open woods--the deadly amanita, for whose fearful poison no remedy is known? Have you learned to overcome the poison ivy that was once so feared--now so lightly held by those who know? Have you proved the balsam fir in all its fourfold gifts--as Christmas tree, as healing balm, as consecrated bed, as wood of friction fire? Do you know the wonderful medicine that is in the sky? [Illustration: 1 Indian Cucumber 2 Rock tripe 3 Bog potato 4 Rabbit 5 For Future use 6 Feb 2 7 Amanita 8 Poison Ivy 9 Balsam 10 (Sun) 11 Jack-o-Pulpit 12 Healing Healing] Have you tasted the bread of wisdom, the treasure that cures much ignorance, that is buried in the aisle of Jack-o-Pulpit's Church? Can you tell what walked around your tent on the thirtieth night of your camp-out? Then are you wise. You have learned the twelve secrets of the woods. But if you have not, come and let us teach you. WEATHER WISDOM When the dew is on the grass, Rain will never come to pass. When the grass is dry at night, Look for rain before the light. When grass is dry at morning light, Look for rain before the night. Three days' rain will empty any sky. A deep, clear sky of fleckless blue Breeds storms within a day or two. When the wind is in the east, It's good for neither man nor beast. When the wind is in the north, The old folk should not venture forth. When the wind is in the south, It blows the bait in the fishes' mouth. When the wind is in the west, It is of all the winds the best. An opening and a shetting Is a sure sign of a wetting. (Another version) Open and shet, Sure sign of wet. (Still another) It's lighting up to see to rain. Evening red and morning gray Sends the traveler on his way. Evening gray and morning red Sends the traveler home to bed. Red sky at morning, the shepherd takes warning; Red sky at night is the shepherd's delight. If the sun goes down cloudy Friday, sure of a clear Sunday. If a rooster crows standing on a fence or high place, it will clear. If on the ground, it doesn't count. Between eleven and two You can tell what the weather is going to do. Rain before seven, clear before eleven. Fog in the morning, bright sunny day. If it rains, and the sun is shining at the same time, the devil is whipping his wife and it will surely rain tomorrow. If it clears off during the night, it will rain again shortly. Sun drawing water, sure sign of rain. A circle round the moon means "storm." As many stars as are in circle, so many days before it will rain. Sudden heat brings thunder. A storm that comes against the wind is always a thunderstorm. East wind brings rain. West wind brings clear, bright, cool weather. North wind brings cold. South wind brings heat. (On Atlantic coast.) The rain-crow or cuckoo (both species) is supposed by all hunters to foretell rain, when its "Kow, kow, kow" is long and hard. So, also, the tree-frog cries before rain. Swallows flying low is a sign of rain; high, of clearing weather. The rain follows the wind, and the heavy blast is just before the shower. OUTDOOR PROVERBS What weighs an ounce in the morning, weighs a pound at night. A pint is a pound the whole world round. Allah reckons not against a man's allotted time the days he spends in the chase. If there's only one, it isn't a track, it's an accident. Better safe than sorry. No smoke without fire. The bluejay doesn't scream without reason. The worm don't see nuffin pretty 'bout de robin's song.--(Darkey.) Ducks flying over head in the woods are generally pointed for water. If the turtles on a log are dry, they have been there half an hour or more, which means no one has been near to alarm them. Cobwebs across a hole mean "nothing inside." Whenever you are trying to be smart, you are going wrong. Smart Aleck always comes to grief. You are safe and winning, when you are trying to be kind. WHEN LOST IN THE WOODS If you should miss your way, the first thing to remember is like the Indian, "You are not lost; it is the teepee that is lost." It isn't serious. It cannot be so, unless you do something foolish. The first and most natural thing to do is to get on a hill, up a tree, or other high lookout, and seek for some landmark near the camp. You may be sure of these things: You are not nearly as far from camp as you think you are. Your friends will soon find you. You can help them best by signalling. The worst thing you can do is to get frightened. The truly dangerous enemy is not the cold or the hunger, so much as the fear. It is fear that robs the wanderer of his judgment and of his limb power; it is fear that turns the passing experience into a final tragedy. Only keep cool and all will be well. If there is snow on the ground, you can follow your back track. If you see no landmark, look for the smoke of the fire. Shout from time to time, and wait; for though you have been away for hours it is quite possible you are within earshot of your friends. If you happen to have a gun, fire it off twice in quick succession on your high lookout, then wait and listen. Do this several times and wait plenty long enough, perhaps an hour. If this brings no help, send up a distress signal--that is, make two smoke fires by smothering two bright fires with green leaves and rotten wood, and keep them at least fifty feet apart, or the wind will confuse them. Two shots or two smokes are usually understood to mean "I am in trouble." Those in camp on seeing this should send up one smoke, which means "Camp is here." In a word, "keep cool, make yourself comfortable, leave a record of your travels, and help your friends to find you." EDIBLE WILD PLANTS No one truly knows the woods until he can find with certainty a number of wild plants that furnish good food for man in the season when food is scarce; that is, in the winter or early spring. During summer and autumn there is always an abundance of familiar nuts and berries, so that we may rule them out, and seek only for edible plants and roots that are available when nuts and berries are not. _Rock Tripe._ The most wonderful of all is probably the greenish-black rock tripe, found on the bleakest, highest rocks in the northern parts of this continent. There is a wonderful display of it on the cliffs about Mohonk Lake, in the Catskills. Richardson and Franklin, the great northern explorers, lived on it for months. It must be very carefully cooked or it produces cramps. First gather and wash it as clear as possible of sand and grit, washing it again and again, snipping off the gritty parts of the roots where it held onto the mother rock. Then roast it slowly in a pan till dry and crisp. Next boil it for one hour and serve it either hot or cold. It looks like thick gumbo soup with short, thick pieces of black and green leaves in it. It tastes a little like tapioca with a slight flavoring of licorice. On some it acts as a purge. _Basswood Browse or Buds._ As a child I ate these raw in quantities, as did also most of my young friends, but they will be found the better for cooking. They are particularly good and large in the early spring. The inmost bark also has food value, but one must disfigure the tree to get that, so we leave it out. _Slippery Elm._ The same remarks apply to the buds and inner bark of the slippery elm. They are nutritious, acceptable food, especially when cooked with scraps of meat or fruit for flavoring. Furthermore, its flowers come out in the spring before the leaves, and produce very early in the season great quantities of seed which are like little nuts in the middle of a nearly circular wing. These ripen by the time the leaves are half grown and have always been an important article of food among the wild things. [Illustration: Wild Food--Plants Rock tripe Crinkle-root Basswood Slippery Elm Wapato Hog Peanut Calopogon or Grass pink Prairie Turnip Indian Cucumber Bog Potato Jack-in-a-Pulpit Solomons Seal False Solomons Seal] Many Indian tribes used to feed during famine times on the inner bark of cedar and white birch, as well as on the inner bark of the slippery elm and basswood, but these cannot be got without injury to the tree, so omit them. When the snow is off the ground the plants respond quickly, and it is safe to assume that all the earliest flowers come up from big, fat roots. A plant can spring up quickly in summer, gathering the material of growth from the air and soil, but a plant coming up in the early spring is doing business at a time when it cannot get support from its surroundings, and cannot keep on unless it has stored up capital from the summer before. This is the logic of the storehouse in the ground for these early comers. _Wapato._ One of the earliest is wapato, or duck potato, also called common Arrowleaf, or Sagittaria. It is found in low, swampy flats, especially those that are under water for part of the year. Its root is about as big as a walnut and is good food, cooked, or raw. These roots are not at the point where the leaves come out but at the ends of the long roots. _Bog Potato._ On the drier banks, usually where the sedge begins near a swamp, we find the bog potato, or Indian potato. The plant is a slender vine with three, five, or seven leaflets in a group. On its roots in spring are from one to a dozen potatoes, varying from an inch to three inches in diameter. They taste like a cross between a peanut and a raw potato, and are very good cooked or raw. _Indian Cucumber._ In the dry woods one is sure to see the pretty umbrella of the Indian cucumber. Its root is white and crisp and tastes somewhat like a cucumber, is one to four inches long, and good food raw or boiled. _Calopogon._ This plant looks like a kind of grass with an onion for a root, but it does not taste of onions and is much sought after by wild animals and wild people. It is found in low or marshy places. _Hog Peanuts._ In the early spring this plant will be found to have a large nut or fruit, buried under the leaves or quite underground in the dry woods. As summer goes by the plant uses up this capital, but on its roots it grows a lot of little nuts. These are rich food, but very small. The big nut is about an inch long and the little ones on the roots are any size up to that of a pea. _Indian Turnip or Jack-in-the-Pulpit._ This is well known to all our children in the East. The root is the most burning, acrid, horrible thing in the woods when raw, but after cooking becomes quite pleasant and is very nutritious. _Prairie or Indian Turnip, Bread-root or Pomme-blanche of the Prairie._ This is found on all the prairies of the Missouri region. Its root was and is a staple article of food with the Indians. The roots are one to three inches thick and four to twelve inches long. _Solomon's Seal._ The two Solomon's Seals (true and false) both produce roots that are long, bumpy storehouses of food. _Crinkle-root._ Every school child in the country digs out and eats the pleasant peppery crinkle-root. It abounds in the rich dry woods. MUSHROOMS, FUNGI OR TOADSTOOLS We have in America about two thousand different kinds of Mushrooms or Toadstools; they are the same thing. Of these, probably half are wholesome and delicious; but about a dozen of them are deadly poison. There is no way to tell them, except by knowing each kind and the recorded results of experience with each kind. The story about cooking with silver being a test has no foundation; in fact, the best way for the Woodcraft Boy or Girl is to know definitely a dozen dangerous kinds and a score or more of the wholesome kinds and let the rest alone. _Sporeprint._ The first thing in deciding the nature of a toadstool is the sporeprint, made thus: Cut off the stem of the toadstool and lay the gills down on a piece of gray paper under a vessel of any kind. After a couple of hours, lift the cap, and radiating lines of spores will appear on the paper. If it is desired to preserve these, the paper should be first covered with thin mucilage. The _color_ of these spores is the first step in identification. All the deadly toadstools have _white_ spores. No black-spored toadstool is known to be poisonous. POISONOUS TOADSTOOLS The only deadly poisonous kinds are the Amanitas. Others may purge and nauseate or cause vomiting, but it is believed that every recorded death from toadstool poisoning was caused by an Amanita, and unfortunately they are not only widespread and abundant, but they are much like the ordinary table mushrooms. They have, however, one or two strong marks: their stalk always grows out of a "_poison cup_" which shows either as a cup or as a _bulb_; they have _white_ or _yellow_ gills, a ring around the stalk, and _white spores_. Deadly Toadstools All the deadly toadstools known in North America are pictured on the plate, or of the types shown on the plate. The Deadly Amanita may be brownish, yellowish, or white. The Yellow Amanita of a delicate lemon color. The White Amanita of a pure silvery, shiny white. The Fly Amanita with cap pink, brown, yellow, or red in the centre, shaded into yellow at the edge, and patched with fragments of pure white veil. [Illustration: Deadly Amanita Amanita phalloides Fly amanita Frosty Amanita Yellow Amanita White Amanita] The Frosty Amanita with yellow cap, pale cadmium in centre, elsewhere yellowish white, with white patches on warts. All are very variable in color, etc. But all agree in these things. They have _gills_, which are _white_ or _yellow_, _a ring on the stalk_, _a cup at the base_, _white spores_, and are _deadly poison_. In Case of Poisoning If by ill chance any one has eaten a poisonous Amanita, the effects do not begin to show till sixteen or eighteen hours afterward--that is, long after the poison has passed through the stomach and began its deadly work on the nerve centres. _Symptoms_. Vomiting and purging, "the discharge from the bowels being watery with small flakes suspended, and sometimes containing blood," cramps in the extremities. The pulse is very slow and strong at first, but later weak and rapid, sometimes sweat and saliva pour out. Dizziness, faintness, and blindness, the skin clammy, cold, and bluish or livid; temperature low with dreadful tetanic convulsions, and finally stupor. (McIlvaine and Macadam, p. 627.) _Remedy_: "Take an emetic at once, and send for a physician with instructions to bring hypodermic syringe and atropine sulphate. The dose is 1/180 of a grain, and doses should be continued heroically until 1/20 of a grain is administered, or until, in the physician's opinion, a proper quantity has been injected. Where the victim is critically ill the 1/20 of a grain may be administered." (McIlvaine and Macadam XVII.) Wholesome Toadstools It is a remarkable fact that all the queer freaks, like clubs and corals, the cranks and tomfools, in droll shapes and satanic colors, the funny poisonous looking Morels, Inkcaps, and Boleti are good wholesome food, but the deadly Amanitas are like ordinary Mushrooms, except that they have grown a little thin, delicate, and anæmic. [Illustration: Puffballs Brain Puffball Cup Puffball 2 stages Giant Puffball Oyster Mushrooms Moose horn clavaria Red tipped clavaria Golden coral mushroom Gyromitra esculenta Delicious Morel Beefsteak mushrooms Inky coprinus] All the Puffballs are good before they begin to puff, that is as long as their flesh is white and firm. All the _colored_ coral toadstools are good, but the _White Clavaria_ is said to be rather sickening. All of the Morels are safe and delicious. So also is Inky Coprinus, usually found on manure piles. The Beefsteak Mushroom grows on stumps--chiefly chestnut. It looks like raw meat and bleeds when cut. It is quite good eating. So far as known no black-spored toadstool is unwholesome. The common Mushroom is distinguished by its general shape, its pink or brown gills, its white flesh, brown spores, and solid stem. SNAKES GOOD AND BAD Snakes are to the animal world what toadstools are to the vegetable world--wonderful things, beautiful things, but fearsome things, because some of them are deadly poison. Taking Mr. Raymond L. Ditmars[4] as our authority, we learn that out of one hundred and eleven species of snakes found in the United States, seventeen are poisonous. They are found in every State, but are most abundant in the Southwest. These may be divided into Coral Snakes, Moccasins, and Rattlers. The coral snakes are found in the Southern States. They are very much like harmless snakes in shape, but are easily distinguished by their remarkable colors, "broad alternating rings of red and black, the latter bordered with very narrow rings of yellow." The Rattlesnakes are readily told at once by the rattle. But the Moccasins are not so easy. There are two kinds: the Water Moccasin, or Cotton-mouth, found in South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, and Louisiana, and the Copperhead, which is the Highland, or Northern Moccasin or Pilot Snake, found from Massachusetts to Florida and west to Illinois and Texas. [Illustration: Types of Poisonous Snakes Coral Snake Copperhead Moccasin Pigmy Rattler Timber Rattler Diamond-back Rattler] Here are distinguishing marks: The Moccasins, as well as the Rattlers, have on each side of the head, between the eye and nostril, a deep pit. The pupil of the eye is an upright line, as in a cat; the harmless snakes have a round pupil. The Moccasins have a single row of plates under the tail, while the harmless snakes have a double row. The Water Moccasin is dull olive with wide black transverse bands. The Copperhead is dull hazel brown, marked across the back with dumb-bells of reddish brown; the top of the head more or less coppery. Both Moccasins and Rattlers have a flat triangular head, which is much wider than the thin neck; while most harmless snakes have a narrow head that shades off into the neck. Rattlesnakes are found generally distributed over the United States, southern Ontario, southern Alberta, and Saskatchewan. How Does a Snake Bite Remember, the tongue is a feeler, not a sting. The "stinging" is done by two long hollow teeth, or fangs, through which the poison is squirted into the wound. The striking distance of a snake is about one-third the creature's length, and the stroke is so swift that no creature can dodge it. The snake can strike farthest and surest when it is ready coiled, but can strike a little way when traveling. You cannot disarm a poisonous snake without killing it. If the fangs are removed others come quickly to take their place. In fact, a number of small, half-grown fangs are always waiting ready to be developed. In Case of Snake Bite First, keep cool, and remember that the bite of American snakes is seldom fatal if the proper measures are followed. You must act at once. Try to keep the poison from getting into the system by a tight bandage on the arm or leg (it is sure to be one or the other) just above the wound. Next, get it out of the wound by slashing the wound two or more ways with a sharp knife or razor at least as deep as the puncture. Squeeze it--wash it out with permanganate of potash dissolved in water to the color of wine. Suck it out with the lips (if you have no wounds in the mouth it will do you no harm there). Work, massage, suck, and wash to get all the poison out. After thorough treatment to remove the venom the ligature may be removed. "Pack small bits of gauze into the wounds to keep them open and draining, then dress over them with gauze saturated with any good antiseptic solution. Keep the dressing saturated and the wounds open for at least a week, no matter how favorable may be the symptoms." Some people consider whiskey or brandy a cure for snake bite. There is plenty of evidence that many have been killed by such remedies, and little that they have ever saved any one, except perhaps when the victim was losing courage or becoming sleepy. In any case, send as fast as you can for a doctor. He should come equipped with hypodermic syringe, tubes of anti-venomous serum and strychnine tablets. Harmless Snakes Far the greatest number of our snakes are harmless, beautiful, and beneficient. They are friendly to the farmer, because, although some destroy a few birds, chickens, ducklings, and game, the largest part of their food is mice and insects. The Blacksnake, the Milk Snake, and one or two others, will bite in self-defence, but they have no poison fangs, and the bite is much like the prick of a bramble. THE STARS AS THE CAMPER SEES THEM (See Plate of Stars and Principal Constellations) So far as there is a central point in our heavens, that point is the pole-star, Polaris. Around this star all the stars in the sky seem to turn once in twenty-four hours. It is easily discovered by the help of the Big Dipper, _a part of the_ Great Bear, known to every country boy and girl in the northern half of the world. This is, perhaps, the most important star group in our sky, because of its size, peculiar form, the fact that it never sets in our latitude, and that of its stars, two, sometimes called the Pointers always point out the Pole Star. It is called the Dipper because it is shaped like a dipper with a long, bent handle. Why (_the whole group_) is called the Great Bear is not so easy to explain. The classical legend has it that the nymph, Calisto, having violated her vow, was changed by Diana into a bear, which, after death, was immortalized in the sky by Zeus. Another suggestion is that the earliest astronomers, the Chaldeans, called these stars "the shining ones," and their word happened to be very like the Greek _arktos_ (a bear). Another explanation is that vessels in olden days were named for animals, etc. They bore at the prow the carved effigy of the namesake, and if the Great Bear, for example, made several very happy voyages by setting out when a certain constellation was in the ascendant, that constellation might become known as the Great Bear's constellation. Certainly, there is nothing in its shape to justify the name. Very few of the constellations indeed are like the thing they are called after. Their names were usually given for some fanciful association with the namesake, rather than for resemblance to it. [Illustration] The pole-star is really the most important of the stars in our sky; it marks the north at all times; all the other stars seem to swing around it once in twenty-four hours. It is the end of the Little Bear's tail; this constellation is sometimes called the Little Dipper. But the Pole-star or Polaris, is not a very bright one, and it would be hard to identify but for the help of the Pointers of the Big Dipper. The outside stars (Alpha and Beta) of the Dipper point nearly to Polaris, at a distance equal to five times the space that separates these two stars of the Dipper's outer side. Indian names for the Pole-star are the "Home Star," and "The Star That Never Moves," and the Big Dipper they call the "Broken Back." The great Bear is also to be remembered as the hour-hand of the woodman's clock. It goes once around the North Star in about twenty-four hours, the same way as the sun, and for the same reason--that it is the earth that is going and leaving them behind. The time in going around is not exactly twenty-four hours, so that the position of the Pointers varies with the seasons, but, as a rule, this for woodcraft purposes is near enough. The bowl of the Dipper swings four-fifths of the width of its own opening in one hour. If it went a quarter of the circle, that would mean you had slept a quarter of a day, or six hours. Every fifteen days the stars seem to be an hour earlier: in three months they gain one-fourth of the circle, and in a year gain the whole circle. According to Flammarion, there are about seven thousand stars visible to the naked eye, and of these twenty are stars of the first magnitude. Fourteen of them are visible in the latitude of New York, the others (those starred) belong to the South Polar region of the sky. The following table of the brightest stars is taken from the Revised Harvard Photometry of 1908, the best authority on the subject. THE FIRST TWENTY STARS IN ORDER OF BRIGHTNESS 1. Sirius, the Dog Star. 2. *Canopus, of the Ship. 3. *Alpha, of the Centaur. 4. Vega, of the Lyre. 5. Capella, of the Charioteer. 6. Arcturus, of the Herdsman. 7. Rigel, of Orion. 8. Procyon, the Little Dog-Star. 9. *Achernar, of Eridanus. 10. *Beta, of the Centaur. 11. Altair, of the Eagle. 12. Betelgeuze, of Orion's right shoulder. 13. *Alpha of the Southern Cross. 14. Aldebaran, of the Bull's right eye. 15. Pollux, of the Twins. 16. Spica, of the Virgin. 17. Antares, of the Scorpion. 18. Fomalhaut, of the Southern Fish. 19. Deneb, of the Swan. 20. Regulus, of the Lion. OTHER CONSTELLATIONS Orion (O-ri-on), with its striking array of brilliant stars, Betelgeuze, Rigel, the Three Kings, etc., is generally admitted to be the first constellation in the heavens. Orion was the hunter giant who went to Heaven when he died, and now marches around the great dome, but is seen only in the winter, because during the summer, he passes over during daytime. Thus he is still the hunter's constellation. The three stars of his belt are called the "Three Kings." Sirius, the Great Dog-Star, is in the head of Orion's Hound, the constellation _Canis Major_, and following farther back is the Little Dog-Star, Procyon, the chief star of the constellation _Canis Minor_. In old charts of the stars, Orion is shown with his hounds, hunting the bull, Taurus. This constellation is recognizable by this diagram; the red star, Aldebaran, being the angry right eye of the Bull. His face is covered with a cluster of little stars called the _Hyades_, and on his shoulder are the seven stars, called _Pleiades_. Pleiades _Pleiades_ (Ply-a-des) can be seen in winter as a cluster of small stars between Aldebaran and Angol, or, a line drawn from the back bottom, through the front rim of the Big Dipper, about two Dipper lengths, touches this little group. They are not far from Aldebaran, being in the right shoulder of the Bull. They may be considered the seven arrow wounds made by Orion. Serviss tells us that the _Pleiades_ have a supposed connection with the Great Pyramid, because "about 2170 B.C., when the beginning of spring coincided with the culmination of the Pleiades at midnight, that wonderful group of stars was visible just at midnight, through the mysterious southward-pointing passage of the Pyramid." Cassiopeia On the opposite side of the Polar-star from the Big Dipper and nearly as far from it, is a W of five bright stars. This is called the _Cassiopeia's Chair_. It is easily found and visible the year round on clear nights. Thus we have described ten constellations from which the woodcrafter may select the number needed to qualify, namely, the Little Bear, or Little Dipper, the Big Dipper or Big Bear, Cassiopeia's Chair, the Bull, Orion's Hound, Orion's Little Dog, the Pleiades and the Hyades; the Lyre (later). The Moon The moon is one-fourth the diameter of the earth, about one-fiftieth of the bulk, and is about a quarter of a million miles away. Its course, while very irregular, is nearly the same as the apparent course of the sun. It is a cold solid body, without any known atmosphere, and shines by reflected sunlight. The moon goes around the earth in twenty-seven and a quarter days. It loses about fifty-one minutes in twenty-fours hours; therefore it rises that much later each successive night on the average, but there are wide deviations from this average, as for example, the time of the Harvest and Hunter's moons in the fall, when the full moon rises at nearly the same time for several nights in succession. According to most authorities, the moon is a piece of the earth that broke away some time ago; and it has followed its mother around ever since. The Stars as Tests of Eyesight In the sky are several tests of eyesight which have been there for some time and are likely to be. The first is the old test of Mizar and Alcor. Mizar, the Horse, is the star at the bend of the handle of the Dipper. Just above it is a very small star that astronomers call Alcor, or the rider. The Indians call these two the "Old Squaw and the Papoose on Her Back." In the old world, from very ancient times, these have been used as tests of eyesight. To be able to see Alcor with the naked eye means that one has excellent eyesight. So also on the plains, the old folks would ask the children at night, "Can you see the papoose on the old Squaw's back?" And when the youngster saw it and proved that he did by a right description, they rejoiced that he had the eyesight which is the first requisite of a good hunter. One of the oldest of all eye tests is the Pleiades. Poor eyes see a mere haze, fairly good see five, good see six, excellent see seven. The rarest eyesight, under the best conditions, see up to ten; and, according to Flammarion, the record with unaided eyes is thirteen. Vega of the Lyre If one draw a line from through the back wall of the Dipper, that is, from the back bottom star, through the one next the handle, and continue it upward for twice the total length of the Dipper, it will reach Vega, the brightest star in the northern part of the sky, and believed to have been at one time the Pole-star--and likely to be again. Vega, with the two stars near it, form a small triangle. The one on the side next the North Star is called Epsillon. If you have remarkably good eyes, you will see that it is a double star. The Nebula in Orion's Sword Just about the middle of Orion's Sword is a fuzzy light spot. This might do for blood, only it is the wrong color. It is the nebula of Orion. If you can see it with the naked eye, you are to be congratulated. On the Moon When the moon is full, there is a large, dark, oval spot on it to the left, as you face it, and close to the east rim, almost halfway up; this is the Plain of Grimaldi; it is about twice the size of the whole State of New Jersey; but it is proof of a pair of excellent eyes if you can see it at all. [Illustration: SIGNS AND BLAZES] Blazes First among the trail signs that are used by Woodcrafters, Indians, and white hunters, and most likely to be of use to the traveler, are axe blazes on tree trunks. Among these some may vary greatly with locality, but there is one that I have found everywhere in use with scarcely any variation. That is the simple white spot meaning, "_Here is the trail._" The Indian in making it may nick off an infinitesimal speck of bark with his knife, the trapper with his hatchet may make it as big as a dollar, or the settler with his heavy axe may stab off half the tree-side; but the sign is the same in principle and in meaning, on trunk, log, or branch from Atlantic to Pacific and from Hudson Strait to Rio Grande. "This is your trail," it clearly says in the universal language of the woods. There are two ways of employing it: one when it appears on back and front of the trunk, so that the trail can be run both ways; the other when it appears on but one side of each tree, making a _blind trail_, which can be run one way only, the blind trail is often used by trappers and prospectors, who do not wish anyone to follow their back track. But there are treeless regions where the trail must be marked; regions of sage brush and sand, regions of rock, stretches of stone, and level wastes of grass or sedge. Here other methods must be employed. A well-known Indian device, in the brush, is to break a twig and leave it hanging. (_Second line._) Among stones and rocks the recognized sign is one stone set on top of another (_top line_) and in places where there is nothing but grass the custom is to twist a tussock into a knot (_third line_). These signs are also used in the whole country from Maine to California. In running a trail one naturally looks straight ahead for the next sign; if the trail turned sharply without notice one might easily be set wrong, but custom has provided against this. The tree blaze for turn "to the right" is shown in No. 2, fourth row; "to the left" in No. 3. The greater length of the turning blaze seems to be due to a desire for emphasis as the same mark set square on, is understood to mean "Look out, there is something of special importance here." Combined with a long side chip means "very important; here turn aside." This is often used to mean "camp is close by," and a third sign that is variously combined always with the general meaning of "warning" or "something of great importance" is a threefold blaze. (No. 4 on fourth line.) The combination (No. 1 on bottom row) would read "Look out now for something of great importance to the right." This blaze I have often seen used by trappers to mark the whereabouts of their trap or cache. Surveyors often use a similar mark--that is, three simple spots and a stripe to mean, "There is a stake close at hand," while a similar blaze on another tree nearby means that the stake is on a line between. Stone Signs These signs done into stone-talk would be as in the top line of the cut. These are much used in the Rockies where the trail goes over stony places or along stretches of slide rock. Grass and Twig Signs In grass or sedge the top of the tuft is made to show the direction to be followed; if it is a point of great importance three tufts are tied, their tops straight if the trail goes straight on; otherwise the tops are turned in the direction toward which the course turns. The Ojibways and other woodland tribes use twigs for a great many of these signs. (_See second row._) The hanging broken twig like the simple blaze means "This is the trail." The twig clean broken off and laid on the ground across the line of march means, "Here break from your straight course and go in the line of the butt end," and when an especial _warning_ is meant, the butt is pointed toward the one following the trail and raised somewhat, in a forked twig. If the butt of the twig were raised and pointing to the left, it would mean "Look out, camp, or ourselves, or the enemy, or the game we have killed is out that way." With some, the elevation of the butt is made to show the distance of the object; if low the object is near, if raised very high the object is a long way off. These are the principal signs of the trail used by Woodcrafters, Indians, and hunters in most parts of America. These are the standards--the ones sure to be seen by those who camp in the wilderness. Signal by Shots The old buffalo hunters had an established signal that is yet used by the mountain guides. It is as follows: Two shots in rapid succession, an interval of five seconds by the watch, then one shot; this means, "where are you?" The answer given at once and exactly the same means "Here I am; what do you want?" The reply to this may be one shot, which means, "All right; I only wanted to know where you were." But if the reply repeats the first it means, "I am in serious trouble; come as fast as you can." Totems in Town A totem is an emblem of a man, a group of men, or an idea. It has no reference to words or letters. Before men knew how to write they needed marks to indicate ownership. This mark must be simple and legible and was chosen because of something connected with the owner or his family. Later some of the trades adopted a symbol; for instance the barbers in the early days were "blood letters" and were closely associated with the medical profession. Their totem indicate their business and we have the red and white barber pole of today. It was among the Indians along the West coast of America that the science and art of totems reached its highest development, though they have a world-wide usage and go back in history to the earliest times. Out of this use of totems as owner marks and signs grew the whole science of heraldry and national flags. [Illustration: Northern Pacific R. R.] [Illustration: Salt Lake R. R.] [Illustration: Santa Fé R. R.] [Illustration: Traffic Squad] [Illustration: Bell Telephone] [Illustration: Pawnshop] [Illustration: Liberty] [Illustration: Army] [Illustration: Druggist] [Illustration: Ireland] [Illustration: Woodcraft] [Illustration: Navy] [Illustration] [Illustration: Sea Power] [Illustration: Optician] [Illustration: Union Pacific R. R.] [Illustration: Islamism] [Illustration: Skating] [Illustration: Star Union Lines] [Illustration: New York City] [Illustration: Penna. R. R.] [Illustration: The Power of the People] [Illustration: Canadian Pacific R. R.] [Illustration: Barber] [Illustration: Scotland] [Illustration: Totems Often Seen] Thanks to the fusion of many small armies into one or two big armies, that is, of many tribes into a nation, and also to modern weapons which made it possible to kill a man farther off than you could see the totem on his shield, national flags have replaced the armorial devices, and are the principal totems used today. But a new possibility has been discovered in modern times. Totems will serve the ends of commerce, and a great revival of their use is now seen. The totem is visible such a long way off and is understood by all, whether or not they can read or know our language, is copyrightable and advertisable, so that most of the great railway companies, etc., now have totems. There are not less than one hundred common totems used in our streets today. Among the familiar ones seen are the American eagle, with white head and tail, the Austrian eagle with two heads, the British lion, the Irish harp, the French fleur de lis, etc. Among trades the three balls of the pawnbroker, the golden fleece of the dry-goods man, the mortar and pestle of the druggist, and others are well known. Examples of these and others are given in the illustration but any wideawake Woodcraft Girl will be able to find many others by careful observation. [Illustration: Christianity] [Illustration: Mourning] [Illustration: Electric Power] [Illustration: Commercial Success] [Illustration: "AFOOT AND LIGHT-HEARTED."] FOOTNOTE: [4] This article is chiefly a condensation of his pamphlet on "Poisonous Snakes of the United States," and is made with his permission and approval. SECTION XIV CAMPING FOR GIRL SCOUTS[5] SONG OF THE OPEN ROAD _Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune--I myself am good-fortune; Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, Strong and content, I travel the open road...._ * * * * * _Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons, It is to grow in the open air, and to eat and sleep with the earth._ --_Walt Whitman._ A Girl Scout likes to hike and camp. She learns to know the stars, and becomes acquainted with the plants and animals about her. She gains independence from her ability to help herself, and health and strength from exercise in the sunshine and fresh air. These are the good things of camping. The bad things are catching cold from damp ground, or insufficient bedding, uncomfortable nights, and weary feet. But a wise Scout does not rough it. She knows how to make herself comfortable by a hundred little dodges. The aim of camping is to make things simpler for the Camper. She must make up her mind whether she is ready for an overnight hike, a week-end trip or a good vacation in the open air, and plan accordingly. For a walking trip a Girl Scout must travel light and learn to do with a minimum amount of clothing, utensils and food. On the other hand, if she is going to spend the week out, why not be as comfortable as possible? This requires more of an outfit, but it is worth it. To know how to do this one must, of course, have first learned the simple rules of camping in Girl Scout training. Hiking Hikes are a good way to get this training. Extreme heat, or a downpour of rain is the only kind of weather which should interfere with a hike. Soft rains or snowstorms are very pleasant to hike in. Skirts are dangerous for cross-country travel on account of brambles, rock work and climbing over brooks. Knickerbockers or bloomers should be worn. _In the city_ when starting off for a hike use squad or double file formation through the streets, railroad stations, ferries, etc. Silence is maintained in this formation. _Hiking Order_--In the country, even along unused roads, hike in single file on the left side of the road. The advantage of this formation is that all danger from passing traffic in any direction is averted. It is _not_ necessary to keep step, and talking, laughing, singing, etc., may be indulged in. Permission to break this order is only given when in woods, or fields, where there is no danger. When returning home use Scout's Pace if weary. This helps to make the distance seem shorter. _Scout's pace_ is a walking and running device which serves to increase endurance when covering a long distance. It consists in taking a certain number of walking steps followed immediately by the same number of running steps, returning to the walking steps, and so forth. The number of steps may vary, according to the place, nature of the road and object of the walk. Fifty steps walking, fifty steps running and alternating steadily for twelve minutes will take one a mile, and this is one of the measures of distance that is useful to know. For ordinary use on hikes the use of twenty steps running and walking is preferable. Feet With a little knowledge as to the care of her feet the city girl can make a good showing at her first camp. Prepare feet by brushing vigorously with a dry flesh brush. Strengthen muscles by standing on toes in bare feet, raising body gradually fifty or seventy-five times. Frequent changes of stockings, bathing of tired feet in hot water at night and cold water in the morning, will overcome most of the hiker's troubles. The cold water hardens the skin. Boric acid powder is good for naturally damp feet. Blisters should be cleansed with iodine, then carefully pricked with a sterile needle to let out the water (hold the needle in the flame of a match), then washed with iodine and covered with a few layers of sterile gauze fastened with adhesive plaster. It is desirable to change the stockings every day. Wash them at night and hang them out to dry and keep them well darned. Two pairs at least are necessary. Never risk your health by putting on stockings even slightly damp with dew. A hole will cause a blister. Woolen stockings are preferable. For very long hikes it helps to wear two or three pairs, and to lather the outside of the stocking with a cake of soap slightly moistened. Shoes Shoes should be the shape of the feet and have low, wide heels. It rests the feet to take the shoes off once or twice during a long tramp. Grease the shoes every few days with mutton fat or other grease. There is no such thing as waterproof leather, but it can be made so by being greased. After being wet, shoes should be well dried and greased, but should not be dried in a hot place, for this would ruin the leather. These may seem trifling details, but remember, "no army is stronger than its feet." Things to Remember Keep the feet straight when walking. If a Girl Scout notices the tracks of an Indian, the first hikers in this country, she will find them invariably straight forward. Scientists have agreed that the dancing school habit of turning out toes is one of the causes of flat feet, which disqualified so many men for army service. Start the walk slowly. Keep the pace of the slowest of the party. "Slow and easy goes far in a day." Practice deep breathing. Inhale for five steps, hold your breath for five counts, and let it out, again counting five. Take short steps when climbing. Do not run down hill. It causes stiffness, for which a hot bath and another walk the next day are the best cure. When lunch is carried it should be divided among the troop. Each Scout should carry her knapsack on her back, to leave the hands free. It is a great mistake to start on a hike with one's arms laden. Do not plan to go too great a distance in the time at your disposal. Remember that aside from the time you need for going and coming you expect to enjoy yourselves cooking and eating, and you need time for both. For an over-night hike, when you carry your equipment select a spot not more than two miles distant. Good things to carry in one's pocket are a drinking cup, a geological survey map (ten cents), a small pocket compass, a camper's knife, a small soapstone to sharpen it, a match box, and a note-book and pencil. Plan a definite object for the hike. Note how many kinds of trees, wild flowers or birds one can find. Practice building fires for cooking, or getting material for a bed such as balsam, etc. Inquire for points of historical interest and make them the goal of the hike. There is hardly a town that has not some place connected with the early history of the nation. Personal Equipment Spending the nights under the stars is one of the great fascinations of camping. Each person requires two waterproof ground cloths or ponchos, two pairs of light wool blankets, safety pins, heavy cord, sleeping garments, rain coat, and toilet articles, including such things as soap, toilet paper, sewing kit, electric flashlight, mirror, first aid kit, provision for mosquitoes or flies, five yards of bar netting, and oil of citronella. In order to ensure protection from the rain spread one waterproof covering or poncho on the ground using half underneath so that the upper half may be folded over the head in case of rain. Put blankets _under_ as well as _over_ you, and a second waterproof covering over the blankets. Clothing When living out of doors, one may make shift for shelter, or even go hungry for a space, but there is no substitute for comfortable clothing that is safe to use if one would keep well. Horace Kephart, the master camper, devotes much space to this subject, and we can do no better than to follow his advice from Camping and Woodcraft. "* * * One soon learns that the difference between comfort and misery, if not health and illness, may depend on whether he is properly clad. Proper, in this case does not mean modish, but suitable, serviceable, proven by the touchstone of experience to be best for the work or play that is in hand. When you seek a guide in the mountains, he looks first in your eyes and then at your shoes. If both are right, you are right. "The chief uses of clothing are to help the body maintain its normal temperature and to protect it from sun, frost, wind, rain and injuries. _To help_, mind you--the body must be allowed to do its share. "Perspiration is the heat-regulating mechanism of the body. Clothing should hinder its passage from the skin as little as possible. For this reason one's garments should be _permeable_ to air. The body is cooled by rapid evaporation, on the familiar principle of a tropical water bag that is porous enough to let some of the water exude. So the best summer clothing is that which permits free evaporation--and this means all over, from head to heel. In winter it is just the same, there should be free passage for bodily moisture through the underclothes, but extra layers or thickness of outer clothing are needed to hold in the bodily heat and to protect one against wind; even so all the garments should be permeable to air. * * *" "Underclothing, for any season, should be loosely woven, so as to hold air and take up moisture from the body. The air confined in the interspaces is a non-conductor, and so helps to prevent sudden chilling on the one hand, and over-heating on the other. A loose texture absorbs perspiration but does not hold it--the moisture is free to pass on to and through the outer garments. In town we may indure close woven underwear in summer, if thin enough, because we exercise little and can bathe and change frequently. In the woods we would have to change four times a day to keep * * * as dry. "_Wool versus Cotton_--Permeability also depends upon material. Ordinary cotton and linen goods do not permit rapid evaporation. They absorb moisture from the skin, but hold it up to the limit of saturation. Then, when they can hold no more, they are clammy, and the sweat can only escape by running down one's skin. "After hard exertion in such garments, if you sit down to rest, or meet a sudden keen wind, as in topping a ridge, you are likely to get a chill--and the next thing is a 'bad cold' or lumbago, rheumatism, or something worse. "Wool, on the contrary is permeable. That is why (if of suitable weight and loose weave) it is both cooler in summer and warmer in winter than cloth made of vegetable fibre. 'One wraps himself in a woolen blanket to keep warm--to keep the heat _in_. He wraps ice in a blanket to keep it from melting--to keep the heat _out_.' In other words, wool is the best material to maintain an equable normal temperature." Camp Site "The essentials of a good camp site are these: 1. Pure water. 2. Wood that burns well. In cold weather there should be either an abundance of sound down wood, or some standing hard wood trees that are not too big for easy felling. 3. An open spot level enough for the tent and camp fire, but elevated above its surroundings so as to have good natural drainage. It must be well above any chance overflow from the sudden rise of a neighboring stream. Observe the previous flood marks.... 7. Exposure to direct sunlight during a part of the day, especially during the early morning hours. 8. In summer, exposure to whatever breezes may blow; in cold weather, protection against the prevailing wind. 9. Privacy. "Water, wood, and good drainage may be all you need for a 'one-night stand,' but the other points, too, should be considered when selecting a site for a fixed camp. "_Water_--Be particularly careful about the purity of your water supply. You come, let us say, to a mountain brook, that issues from thick forest. It ripples over clean rocks, it bubbles with air, it is clear as crystal and cool to your thirsty throat. 'Surely that is good water.' But do you know where it comes from? Every mountain cabin is built close to a spring-branch. Somewhere up that branch there may be a clearing; in that clearing, a house; in that house, a case of dysentery or typhoid fever. I have known several cases of infection from just such a source. It is not true that running water purifies itself. "When one must use well-water let him note the surrounding drainage. If the well is near a stable or out house, or if dish water is thrown near it, let it alone. A well in sandy soil is more or less filtered by nature, but rocky or clayey earth may conduct disease germs a considerable distance under ground. Never drink from the well of an abandoned farm: there is no telling what may have fallen into it. "A spring issuing from the living rock is worthy of confidence. Even if it be but a trickle you can scoop out a basin to receive it that soon will clear itself. "Sometimes a subaqueous spring may be found near the margin of a lake or river by paddling close in shore and trailing your hand in the water. When a cold spot is noted, go ashore and dig a few feet back from the water's edge. I have found such spring exit in the Mississippi some distance from the bank, and by weighting a canteen, tying a string to it and another to the stopper, have brought up cool water from the river bed. "Disease germs are of animal, not vegetable origin. Still waters are not necessarily unwholesome, even though there is rotten vegetation in them. The water of cedar and cypress swamps is good to drink wherever there is a deep pool of it, unless polluted from some outside source. Lake water is safe if no settlements are on its border; but even so large a body as Lake Champlain has been condemned by state boards of health because of the sewage that runs into it. "When a stream is in flood it is likely to be contaminated by decayed animal matter. "_Alkaline Water_--When traveling in an alkali country carry some vinegar or limes or lemons, or (better) a glass stoppered bottle of hydrochloric acid. One teaspoonful of hydrochloric (muriatic) neutralizes about a gallon of water, and if there should be a little excess it will do no harm but rather assist digestion. In default of acid you may add a little Jamaica ginger and sugar to the water, making a weak ginger tea. "_Muddy Water_--I used to clarify Mississippi water by stirring corn meal in it and letting it settle, or by stirring a lump of alum in it until the mud began to precipitate, and then decanting the clear water. Lacking these, one can take a good handful of grass, tie it roughly in the form of a cone six or eight inches high, invert it, pour water slowly into the grass and a runnel of comparatively clear water will trickle down through the small end. "_Stagnant Water_--A traveler may be reduced to the extremity of using stagnant or even putrid water; but this should never be done without first boiling it. Some charred wood from the camp fire should be boiled with the water; then skim off the scum, strain, and set in water aside to cool. Boiling sterilizes, and charcoal deodorizes. * * *" [Illustration: COOKING THE FIRST MEAL] Arriving at Camp As soon as the camp site is decided upon locate the tent. (This should be done in advance when the party is of any size). Each tent should be about twenty-five feet from the next, on a dry place and easy to drain in case of rain, and so placed as to have the sun in the morning and the shade in the afternoon. Each tent should be trenched and placed some distance from the water supply and from the latrine. Tents "For fixed camps, situated where there are wagon roads or other adequate means of transportation, the best cloth shelter is a wall tent, rectangular or square, of strong and rather heavy material. * * * The best all-round size of wall tent for two people, if weight and bulk and cost are of any consequence, is the so-called 9 × 9 or a 9 × 12, built with 3-1/2-foot walls, instead of 3-foot, and 8-foot center, instead of 7-1/2-foot. For four persons a 12 × 14 is commonly used; but a 14 × 14 with 4-foot walls and a 9-foot center has double the head-room of the standard 12 × 14, and 2-1/2 feet more space between cots, if these are set lengthwise of the tent, two on a side. "Before selecting a tent, consider the number of people to occupy it and their dunnage, and the furniture. Then draw diagrams of floor and elevation of various sizes, putting in the cots, etc., according to scale; so you can get just what you want, no more, no less. Camp Sanitation "Nothing is cleaner, sweeter, wholesomer, than a wildwood unspoiled by man, and few spots are more disgusting than a "piggy" camp, with slops thrown everywhere, empty cans and broken bottles littering the ground, and organic refuse left festering in the sun, breeding disease germs, to be spread abroad by the swarms of flies. I have seen one of nature's gardens, an ideal health resort, changed in a few months by a logging crew into an abomination and a pest hole where typhoid and dysentery wrought deadly vengeance. "_Destroy at once all refuse that would attract flies._ Or bury it where they cannot get at it. "Fire is the absolute disinfectant. Burn all solid kitchen refuse as fast as it accumulates. When a can of food is emptied toss it on the fire and burn it out, then drop it in a sink hole that you have dug for slops and unburnable trash, and cover it with earth or ashes so no mosquitoes can breed in it after a rainfall. "The sink should be on the down hill side of camp, and where it cannot pollute the water supply. Sprinkle kerosene on it or burn it out frequently with a brush fire. * * *" The Latrine One of the first tasks of the camper is to dig a trench for a latrine and build a screen around it. The latrine should be on a lower level than the camp, away from the water supply and in the opposite direction from which the prevailing winds come toward the camp, two hundred feet from sleeping and mess tents. Bushes or a tent fly may be used as a screen and shelter. A small lean-to serves admirably. Dig trenches four feet long, one foot wide and two feet deep. Allow six inches (length) per day for a Scout. Cover after using with fresh dirt. It is imperative to fill and re-sod all trenches dug. Whether you camp only for lunch or for the summer leave no trace that you have been there. Remember the animals how they scratch the soil and cover up any waste that they leave, and be at least as clean as they. Lime does not keep the flies away. Plenty of fresh dirt is better. Team Work Only as each and every member does her part will the camp be a complete success. The daily tasks should be assigned to individuals or groups, as in: The Pine Tree Patrol System The chief advantage of this system is that whenever the need for work of any description arises, there is always someone whose duty is to perform that particular task, thus avoiding the inevitable question of "Who will do it?" The Pine Tree Patrol system does not in the least interfere with regular schedule of Scout activities; on the contrary, it saves time since more than one hand on each spoke of the wheel keeps it in continual motion. When the system seems too complicated for a small camp, the captain can simplify it to suit the circumstances. Each girl in the Patrol is assigned a number which requires of her: 1. Certain well defined duties to perform for her Patrol. 2. Certain specific knowledge expected of her in the exercise of her "specialty." 3. Proper care of her special "station gear." 4. Willingness to teach her understudy all she knows. 5. Willingness to learn the duties of the next higher numbers. [Illustration: --THE PINE TREE PATROL-- REAR RANK: "THE BLUES" Water Wood Junior Baker Scout Scout 2 4 6 8 1 3 5 7 Senior Scribe Lighter Handy Scout FRONT RANK "THE REDS"] The front rank (Reds) is in touch with and under the Senior (Patrol Leader); the rear rank (Blues) is in touch with and under the Junior. The Senior receives her orders from the Captain and transmits them not only to 3, 5 and 7, but to Junior as well. The Senior and ranking Patrol officer keeps an eye on the Junior and her rear rank. The Captain, of course, is the general overseer, but the Senior has charge of all routine troop duties, superintends camp details and is virtually a first Lieutenant to the Captain. The Junior is a second Lieutenant and assists the Senior in the supervision of the camp. _The Senior_ (No. 1) looks after the flags, tentage, blankets, equipment and personal baggage, while the Junior (No. 2) has charge of food, fires, water, cooking, and kitchen work. They appease the demands of the outer and inner man. _The Scribe_ (No. 3)--She is secretary, bookkeeper, log writer, recorder, correspondent, tent pitcher and First-Aid Scout. _The Baker_ (No. 4) is the Junior's first aid. She is charged with the care and use of cereal foodstuffs all the way from corn on the cob to flap-jacks and "sinkers," and the cooking outfit and kitchen fire. _The Lighter_ (No. 5) has care of the lamps, lanterns, candles, matches, oils and all "leaky" stuff. She understands telegraphy and electricity and is chief signal Scout and assistant tent pitcher. She must keep the camp well illuminated. _The Water Scout_ (No. 6) locates water for all purposes and carries it to camp. She acts as Fire Chief and Fire Watchman. She provides and cooks meat, vegetables and "greens." _The Handy Scout_ (No. 7) is field engineer, carpenter, bridge builder, the general maker, mender, patcher, splicer and tinker; cares for tools and trek-cart, mends the tents and clothing, and makes the furniture. _The Wood Scout_ (Patrol Mascot) (No. 8) is usually the youngest girl. She keeps fires well fed, the rations dry and the garbage burned. She carries a spade, pick axe and cutting axe. This system may be used in either a small or large camp; if the latter, corresponding numbers of each Patrol work together. TEAM WORK AND DAILY ROUTINE 6:30 A. M. Junior, Baker, Water Scout and Wood Scout report half an hour before Mess. 8:00 A. M. Tent Inspection. 8:30 A. M. Senior, Scribe, Lighter and Handy Scout report. 8:30-9:30 A. M. Main work for day accomplished by both Senior and Junior groups. Caution in Use of Knife and Axe _The Knife_ 1. Always whittle away from you. 2. Keep your fingers behind the blade. 3. Keep saying to yourself: "If this knife slips, can it cut my fingers?" 4. Learn how to sharpen your knife and keep it sharp. _The Chopping Block_ "A chopping block is the first thing needed about a camp. The axe, when not in use, should always be stuck in that particular block, where one can find it when wanted, and where it will not injure men or dogs." _The Axe_ "Do not let the axe lie outdoors on a very cold night; the frost would make it brittle, so that the steel might shiver on the first knot you struck the next morning...." The axe is a most dangerous tool, and a glancing blow may cripple one for life. 1. Do not put your foot on a stick you are chopping. 2. Always have in mind where a glancing blow may throw the axe, and keep your foot away from that danger. 3. In splitting short sticks for kindling hold them by one end flat on the chopping block and strike the blade into the other end. 4. Do not hold the stick on end in one hand while splitting it. 5. Cut or split small wood on a chopping block or log. Never let the axe strike into the ground, as a hidden stone may ruin the edge. The Camp Fire "The forest floor is always littered with old leaves, dead sticks and fallen trees. During a drought this rubbish is so tinder-dry that a spark falling in it may start a conflagration; but through a great part of the year the leaves and sticks that lie flat on the ground are too moist at least on their under side, to ignite readily. If we rake together a pile of leaves, cover it higgledy-piggledy with dead twigs and branches picked up at random, and set a match to it, the odds are that it will result in nothing but a quick blaze that soon dies down to a smudge. Yet that is the way most of us tried to make our first outdoor fires. "One glance at a camper's fire tells what kind of a woodsman he is. It is quite impossible to prepare a good meal over a heap of smoking chunks, a fierce blaze, or a great bed of coals that will warp iron and melt everything else. [Illustration: LUNCHEON FIRE] "If one would have good meals cooked out of doors, and would save much time and vexation; in other words, if he wants to be comfortable in the woods, he must learn how to produce at will either (1) a quick, hot little fire that will boil water in a jiffy, and will soon burn down to embers that are not too ardent for frying; or (2) a solid bed of long-lived coals that will keep up a steady, glowing, smokeless heat for baking, roasting or slow boiling; or (3) a big log fire that will throw its heat forward on the ground, and into a tent or lean-to, and will last several hours without replenishing. "_Luncheon Fire_--For a noonday lunch, or any other quick meal, when you have only to boil coffee and fry something, a large fire is not wanted. Drive a forked stake into the ground, lay a green stick across it, slanting upward from the ground, and weight the lower end with a rock, so that you could easily regulate the height of a pot. The slanting stick should be notched, or have the stub of a twig left at its upper end, to hold the pot in place, and to be set at such an angle that the pot swings about a foot clear of the ground. "Then gather a small armful of sound, dry twigs from the size of a lead pencil to that of your finger. Take no twig that lies flat on the ground, for such are generally damp or rotten. Choose hard wood, if there is any, for it lasts well. "Select three of your best sticks for kindling. Shave each of them almost through, for half its length, leaving lower end of shavings attached to the stick, one under the other. Stand these in a tripod, under the hanging pot, with their curls down. Around them build a _small_ conical wigwam of the other sticks, standing each on end and slanting to a common center. The whole affair is no bigger than your hat. Leave free air spaces between the sticks. Fire requires air, and plenty of it, and it burns best when it has something to climb up on; hence the wigwam construction. Now touch off the shaved sticks, and in a moment you will have a small blast furnace under the pot. This will get up steam in a hurry. Feed it with small sticks as needed. "Meantime get two bed-sticks, four or five inches thick, or a pair of flat rocks, to support the frying pan. The firewood will all drop to embers soon after the pot boils. Toss out the smoking butts, leaving only clear, glowing coals. Put your bed-sticks on either side, parallel and level. Set the pan on them, and fry away. So, in twenty minutes from the time you drove your stake, the meal will be cooked. "_Dinner Fire_--First get in plenty of wood and kindling. If you can find two large flat rocks, or several small ones of even height use them as andirons; otherwise lay down two short cuts off a five or six inch log, facing you and about three feet apart. On these rocks or billets lay two four foot logs parallel, and several inches apart, as rests for your utensils. Arrange the kindling between and under them, with small sticks laid across the top of the logs, a couple of long ones lengthwise, then more short ones across, another pair lengthwise, and thicker short ones across. Then light it. Many prefer to light the kindling at once and feed the fire gradually; but I do as above, so as to have an even glow under several pots at once, and then the sticks will all burn down to coals together. [Illustration: CAMP CRANE] "This is the usual way to build a cooking fire when there is no time to do better. The objection is that the supporting logs must be close enough together to hold up the pots and pans, and, being round, this leaves too little space between them for the fire to heat the balance evenly; besides, a pot is liable to slip and topple over. A better way, if one has time, is to hew both the inside surfaces and the tops of the logs flat. Space these supports close enough together at one end for the narrowest pot and wide enough apart at the other for the frying pan. "If you carry fire-irons much bother is saved. Simply lay down two flat rocks or a pair of billets far enough apart for the purpose, place the flat irons on them, and space them to suit the utensils. "If a camp grate is used, build a crisscross fire of short sticks under it. "Split wood is better than round sticks for cooking; it catches easier and burns more easily. "Camp Crane--Pots for hot water, stews, coffee, and so on, are more manageable when hung above the fire. The heat can easily be regulated, the pots hanging low at first to boil quickly, and then being elevated or shifted aside to simmer. [Illustration: PINE TREE HORSE] "Set up two forked stakes about five feet apart and four feet to the crotches. Across them lay a green stick (lug-pole) somewhat thicker than a broomstick. Now cut three or four green crotches from branches, drive a nail in the small end of each, or cut a notch in it, invert the crotches, and hang them on the lug-pole to suspend kettles from. These pothooks are to be of different length so that the kettle can be adjusted to different heights above the fire, first for hard boiling, and then for simmering. If kettles were hung from the lug-pole itself, this adjustment could not be made, and you would have to dismount the whole business in order to get one kettle off. "If forked stakes are not easily found in the neighborhood, drive straight ones, then split the tops, flatten the ends of the cross poles and insert them in the clefts of the stakes. "You do not want a big fire to cook over. Many and many a time I have watched old and experienced woodsmen spoil their grub, and their tempers, too, by trying to cook in front of a roaring winter campfire, and have marveled at their lack of common sense. Off to one side of such a fire, lay your bed log as above; then shovel from the campfire enough hard coal to fill the space between the logs within three inches of the top. You now have a steady, even heat from end to end; it can easily be regulated; there is level support for every vessel; and you can wield a short-handled frying pan over such an outdoor range without scorching either the meat or yourself. "_Fire for Baking_--For baking in a reflector, or roasting a joint, a high fire is best, with a backing to throw the heat forward. Sticks three feet long can be leaned against a big log or a sheer-faced rock, and the kindlings started under them. "Often a good bed of coals is wanted. The campfire generally supplies these, but sometimes they are needed in a hurry, soon after camp is pitched. To get them, _take sound hardwood_, either green or dead, and split it into sticks of uniform thickness (say, 1-1/4-inch face). Lay down two bed-sticks, cross these near the end with two others, and so on up until you have a pen a foot high. Start a fire in this pen. Then cover it with a layer of parallel sticks laid an inch apart. Cross this with a similar layer at right angles, and so upward for another foot. The free draught will make a roaring fire, and all will burn down to coals together. "The thick bark of hemlock, and the hard woods generally, will soon yield coals for ordinary cooking. "To keep coals a long time, cover them with ashes, or with bark which will soon burn to ashes. In wet weather a bed of coals can be shielded by slanting broad strips of green bark over it and overlapping them at the edges. "_Fire in a Trench_--In time of drought when everything is tinder-dry, or in windy weather, especially if the ground be strewn with dead leaves or pine needles, build your fire in a trench. This is the best way, too, if fuel is scarce and you must depend on brushwood, as a trench conserves heat. "Dig the trench in line with the prevailing wind. The point is to get a good draught. Make the windward end somewhat wider than the rest, and deeper, sloping the trench upward to the far end. Line the sides with flat rocks if they are to be found, as they hold heat a long time and keep the sides from crumbling in. Lay other rocks, or a pair of green poles along the edges to support vessels. A little chimney of flat stones or sod, at the leeward end, will make the fire draw well. If there is some sheet-iron to cover the trench a quite practical stove is made, but an open trench will do very well if properly managed. "_The Indian's Fire_--Best where fuel is scarce, or when one has only a small hatchet with which to cut night wood. Fell and trim a lot of hardwood saplings. Lay three or four of them on the ground, butts on top of each other, tips radiating from this center like the spokes of a wheel. On and around this build a small hot fire. Place butts of other saplings on this, radiating like the others. As the wood burns away, shove the sticks in toward the center, butts on top of each other as before. This saves much chopping, and economizes fuel. Build a little wind break behind you and lie close to the fire. Doubtless you have heard the Indian's dictum (southern Indians express it just as the northern ones do): 'White man heap fool; make um big fire--can't git near; Injun make um little fire--git close. Uh, good.' Kindling "The best kindling is fat pine or the bark of the paper birch. Fat pine is found in the stumps and butt cuts of pine trees, particularly those that died on the stump. The resin has collected there and dried. This wood is usually easy to split. Pine knots are the tough, heavy resinous stubs of limbs that are found on dead pine trees. They, as well as fat pine, are almost imperishable, and those sticking out of old rotten logs are as good as any. In collecting pine knots go to fallen trees that are almost rotted away. Hit the knot a lick with the pole of the axe and generally it will yield; if you must chop, cut deep to get it all and to save the axe edge. The knots of old dead balsams are similarly used. Usually a dead stump of pine, spruce, or balsam, all punky on the outside, has a core very rich in resin that makes excellent kindling. "Hemlock knots are worthless and hard as glass--keep your axe out of them. "The thick bark of hemlock is good to make glowing coals in a hurry; so is that of hard woods generally. Good kindling sure to be dry underneath the bark in all weather, is procured by snapping off the small dead branches, or stubs of branches, that are left on the trunks of small or medium-sized trees, near the ground. Do not pick up twigs from the ground, but choose those among the downwood that are held up free from the ground. Where a tree is found that has been shivered by lightning, or one that has broken off without uprooting, good splinters of dry wood will be found. In every laurel thicket there is plenty of dead laurel, and, since it is of sprangling growth, most of the branches will be free from the ground and snap-dry. They ignite readily and give out intense heat. "The bark of all species of birch, but of paper birch especially, is excellent for kindling and for torches. It is full of resinous oil, blazes up at once, will burn in any wind, and wet sticks can be ignited with it. "_Making Fire in the Wet_--It is a good test of one's resourcefulness to make a fire out of doors in rainy weather. The best way to go about it depends upon local conditions. If fat pine can be found, the trick is easy; just split it up, and start your fire under a big fallen log. Dry fuel and a place to build a fire can often be found under big up-tilted logs, shelving rocks, and similar natural shelters, or in the core of an old stump. In default of these, look for a dead softwood tree that leans to the south. The wood and bark on the under side will be dry; chop some off, split it fine, and build your fire under the shelter of the trunk. "_Lighting a Match_--When there is nothing dry to strike it on, jerk the tip of the match forward against your teeth. "To light a match in the wind, _face_ the wind. Cup your hands, with their backs toward the wind, and hold the match with its head pointing toward the rear of the cup; _i. e._, toward the wind. Remove the right hand just long enough to strike the match on something very close by; then instantly resume the former position. The flame will run up the match stick, instead of being blown away from it, and so will have something to feed on. "_Fire Regulations_--On state lands and on national forest reserves it is forbidden to use any but fallen timber for firewood. Different states have various other restrictions, some, I believe, not permitting trampers to light a fire in the woods at all unless accompanied by a registered guide. "In New York the regulations prescribe that fires will be permitted for the purposes of cooking, warmth and insect smudges; but before such fires are kindled sufficient space around the spot where the fire is to be lighted must be cleared from all combustible material; and before the place is abandoned fires so lighted must be thoroughly quenched. "In Pennsylvania forest reserves no fire may be made except in a hole or pit one foot deep, the pit being encircled by the excavated earth. In those of California, no fire at all may be lighted without first procuring a permit from the authorities. "Fire regulations are posted on all public lands, and if campers disregard them they are subject to arrest. "These are wise and good laws. Every camper who loves the forest, and who has any regard for public interest, will do his part in obeying them to the letter. However, if he occupies private property where he may use his own judgment, or if he travels in the wilderness far from civilization, where there are no regulations, it will be useful for him to know something about the fuel value of all kinds of wood, green as well as dead, and for such people the following information is given: "The arts of fire building are not so simple as they look. To practice them successfully in all sorts of wild regions we must know the different species of trees one from another, and their relative fuel values, which as we shall see, vary a great deal. We must know how well, or ill, each of them burns in a green state, as well as when seasoned. It is important to discriminate between wood that makes lasting coals and such as soon dies down to ashes. Some kinds of wood pop violently when burning and cast out embers that may burn holes in tents and bedding or set the neighborhood afire; others burn quietly, with clear, steady flame. Some are stubborn to split, others almost fall apart under the axe. In wet weather it takes a practiced woodsman to find tinder and dry wood, and to select a natural shelter where fire can be kept going during a storm or rain or snow, when a fire is most needed. "There are several handy little manuals by which one who has no botanical knowledge can soon learn how to identify the different species of trees by merely examining their leaves, or, late in the season, by their bark, buds and habit of growth. "But no book gives the other information that I have referred to; so I shall offer, in the present chapter, a little rudimentary instruction in this important branch of woodcraft. "It is convenient for our purpose to divide the trees into two great groups, hard woods and soft woods, using these terms not so loosely as lumbermen do, but drawing the line between sycamore, yellow birch, yellow pine, and slippery elm, on the one side, and red cedar, sassafras, pitch pine and white birch, on the other. "_As a general rule_, hard woods make good, slow-burning fuel that yields lasting coals, and soft woods make a quick, hot fire that is soon spent. But each species has peculiarities that deserve close attention. "_Best Fuel_--Best of all northern fire woods is hickory, green or dry. It makes a hot fire, but lasts a long time, burning down to a bed of hard coals that keep up an even, generous heat for hours. Hickory, by the way, is distinctly an American tree; no other region on earth produces it. The live oak of the south is most excellent fuel; so is holly. Following the hickory, in fuel value, are chestnut, oak, overcup, white, blackjack, post and basket oaks, pecan, the hornbeams (ironwoods), and dogwood. The latter burns finely to a beautiful white ash that is characteristic; apple wood does the same. Black birch also ranks here; it has the advantage of 'doing its own blowing,' as a Carolina mountaineer said to me, meaning that the oil in the birch assists its combustion so that the wood needs no coaxing. All of the birches are good fuel, ranking in about this order: Black, yellow, red, paper, and white. Sugar maple was the favorite fuel of our old-time hunters and surveyors because it ignites easily, burns with a clear, steady flame, and leaves good coals. "Locust is a good, lasting fuel; it is easy to cut, and, when green, splits fairly well; the thick bark takes fire readily and the wood then burns slowly, with little flame, leaving pretty good coals; hence it is good for night wood. Mulberry has similar qualities. The scarlet and willow oaks are among the poorest of the hard woods for fuel. Cherry makes only fair fuel. White elm is poor stuff, but slippery elm is better. Yellow pine burns well, as its sap is resinous instead of watery like that of the soft pines. "In some respects white ash is the best of green woods for campers fuel. It is easily cut and split, is lighter to tote than most other woods, and is of so dry a nature that even the green wood catches fire readily. It burns with clear flame, and lasts longer than any other free-burning wood of its weight. On a wager, I have built a bully fire from a green tree of white ash, one match, and no dry kindling. I split some of the wood very fine and 'frilled' a few of the little sticks with my knife. "_Soft Woods_--Most of the soft woods are good only for kindling, or for quick cooking fires, and then only when seasoned. For these purposes, however, some of them are superior, as they split and shave readily and catch fire easily. "Liquidambar, magnolia, tulip, catalpa, and willow are poor fuel. Seasoned chestnut and yellow poplar make a hot fire, but crackle and leave no coals. Balsam fir, basswood, and the white and loblolly pines make quick fires, but are soon spent. The grey (Labrador) or jack pine is considered good fuel in the far north, where hard woods are scarce. Seasoned tamarack is good. Spruce is poor fuel, although, being resinous, it kindles easily and makes a good blaze for 'branding up' a fire. Pitch pine, which is the most inflammable of all woods when dry and 'fat,' will scarcely burn at all in a green state. Sycamore and buckeye, when thoroughly seasoned, are good fuel, but will not split. Alder burns readily and gives out considerable heat, but is not lasting. "The dry wood of the northern poplar (large-toothed aspen) is a favorite for cooking fires, because it gives an intense heat, with little or no smoke, lasts well, and does not blacken the utensils. Red cedar has similar qualities, but is rather hard to ignite and must be fed fine at the start. "The best green soft woods for fuel are white birch, paper birch, soft maple, cottonwood, and quaking aspen. "As a rule, the timber growing along the margins of large streams is softwood. Hence, driftwood is generally a poor mainstay unless there is plenty of it on the spot; but driftwood on the sea coast is good fuel. "_Precautions_--I have already mentioned the necessity of clearing the camp ground of inflammable stuff before starting a fire on it, raking it toward a common center and burning all the dead leaves, pine needles and trash; otherwise it may catch and spread beyond your control as soon as your back is turned. Don't build your fire against a big old punky log; it may smoulder a day or two after you have left and then burst out into flame when the breeze fans it. "_Never_ leave a spark of fire when breaking camp, or when leaving it for the day. Make absolutely sure of this by drenching the campfire thoroughly, or by smothering it completely with earth or sand. Never drop a lighted match on the ground without stamping it out. Have you ever seen a forest fire? It is terrible. Thousands of acres are destroyed and many a time men and women and children have been cut off by a tornado of flame and burned alive. The person whose carelessness starts such a holocaust is worse than a fool--he is a criminal, and a disgrace to the good earth he treads." [Illustration: HAVERSACK FOR CARRYING KITCHEN UTENSILS] Cooking Devices When it is convenient carry a hatchet. Scouts should carry a small folding grate. The best form of grate is one with folding legs. After laying the fire the legs of the grate are driven into the ground. As the fire burns down, the grate may be lowered by driving the legs in deeper. This is a very useful utensil for supporting hot water pails or frying pan. When no forks can be found use the "Pine Tree Horse," as shown in cut. In order to boil water hard it will only be necessary to slip the kettle down the pole, holding it in place by graduated notches. Equipment and supplies for one meal may be carried in one or two haversacks like the one shown. Indeed, a meal may be cooked without any equipment whatever other than a knife which every Scout should be provided with. _Improvised Grate_--A few sticks 1/2 inch in diameter laid about 2 inches apart and about 2 inches above the coals form a good enough broiler. Steak and chops cook perfectly well if laid right on the coals. Cooking kits allow for more variety, as they provide a frying pan, in which bacon and potatoes can be cooked, and a small pail for boiling water. It is convenient for each Scout to carry her own cup, knife, fork and spoon. The cooking kit and supplies can then be divided among the party. At a permanent camp a frying board is a great convenience. It is simply a flat, smooth board with a pointed end which can be driven into the ground. Fish, meat, game and "Injun" bread can be cooked on this board better than in any other way, as the food receives the heat without becoming charred, and is much more wholesome than when fried in a pan. As long as the board is to windward of the flame, a constant heat is maintained without smoke. A small fire will cook a very large fish in a short time. An old canoe paddle may be used for this purpose. The food is hung on nails driven in the board, a strip of bacon, hung above the fish and dripping on it would improve the flavor. [Illustration: THE FOLDING BAKER] It is a good plan to use a separate frying board when cooking fish, as the juice from the fish seeps into the board and it is practically impossible to remove it by cleaning. The flavor of fish is not pleasant on other food. If it is not practicable to carry two frying boards one can be careful to reserve the same side of one board for cooking fish. A long cooking spoon for dishing vegetables out of the pots is very useful. A roll of paper towels for drying dishes and for use as napkins, or cloth dish towels and paper napkins are also useful. Other useful articles are a dish mop with a wooden handle, and a pancake turner. _The Folding Baker_--The baker may be placed before the blazing fire. It is a perfect arrangement for baking biscuits and roasting meats. _Friction Top Cans_--It is well to have these varying in capacity from one to three quarts. Use one quart size for washing soda, powdered soap, and sugar. The larger sizes should carry flour, cornmeal, etc. Eggs may be placed in the one used for the cornmeal. [Illustration: FRICTION TOP CAN] Where convenient to provide a large equipment the following utensils are suggested: Camp grate, 3 wire toasters (one for meat, one for fish, one for bread), 2 frying boards (one for meat, one for fish), 6-quart pail for reserve water, 9-quart pail for boiling vegetables, agate or paper plates, agate or paper cups, knives, forks, spoons, kit knife, paper towels, dish mops, powdered soap, cotton gloves for handling hot or smoky pots, candles, matches (in waterproof packages), non-rusting wire 1/8 inch thick for hanging pots, etc. A large permanent camp may add greatly to the pleasure of its members, and make a delightful break in the day, by sending off troops of, say, eight girls to cook a camp lunch at a place about a mile distant. For this purpose, when a group plans to do a great deal of camping the above equipment is suggested. It could all be packed in the pack basket, and the girls could take turns carrying it. [Illustration: FOLDING FRYING PAN] Such a basket without a canvas cover costs about $8 and is extremely useful in permanent camp equipment. Utensils Required for a Party of Eight and their Uses If the group of girls plans for a camping trip of several days and transport is available, all the following utensils will be found useful. These may be purchased in any sporting goods store. _Three Wire Toasters_--One for meat, one for fish, one for toast. In cooking meat or fish, and in making toast before a blazing fire, stand the wire toaster upright before the fire and prop it up with a stick. A board may be used in the same manner. It is often desirable to do this in order to avoid the delay of waiting for the fire to burn down. _Cooking Pots_--Size 5 quarts, for boiling vegetables; size 6-1/2 quarts, for boiling vegetables; size 9 quarts, for hot water; size 15 quarts, for reserve cold water. Each of these pots nests in the next larger size, making one package. A cocoa pot of this type nests into the 5-quart pail. _Two Frying Pans_--The handles fold in and the pans pack in a case with the nest of cooking pots. In addition to their usual uses, the frying pans are also used as dish-washing pans, one for the washing and one for the rinsing. [Illustration: COMPLETE COOKING OUTFIT FOR EIGHT SCOUTS] A heaped teaspoon of washing soda dissolved in hot water will so perfectly clean the frying pans as to permit their use as dish-pans. Eight agate plates, or aluminum if possible; eight agate cups, or aluminum if possible; eight knives, forks and spoons; one large, long-handled cooking spoon. The complete cooking outfit may be nested together and packed in a canvas bag and takes up about as much space as a water pail. Provisions "When a party camps where fresh meat and farm products can be procured as they are wanted, its provisioning is chiefly a matter of taste, and calls for no special comment here. But to have good meals in the wilderness is a different matter. A man will eat five or six pounds a day of fresh food. That is a heavy load on the trail. And fresh meat, dairy products, fruit and vegetables are generally too bulky, too perishable. So it is up to the woodsman to learn how to get the most nourishment out of the least weight and bulk in materials that 'keep' well. "Light outfitting, as regards food, is mainly a question of _how much water_ we are willing to carry in our rations. For instance, canned peaches are 88 per cent. water. Can one afford to carry so much water from home when there is plenty of it at camp? "The following table is suggestive: More than 3/4 water Fresh milk, fruit, vegetables (except potatoes). Canned soups, tomatoes, peaches, pears, etc. More than 1/2 water Fresh beef, veal, mutton, poultry, eggs, potatoes. Canned corn, baked beans, pineapple. Evaporated milk (unsweetened). More than 1/3 water Fresh bread, rolls, pork chops. Potted chicken, etc. Cheese. Canned blackberries. Less than 1/3 water Dried apples, apricots, peaches, prunes. Fruit jelly. Less than 1/5 water Salt pork, bacon, dried fish, butter. Dessicated eggs, concentrated soups. Powdered milk. Wheat flour, cornmeal, etc., macaroni. Rice, oatmeal, hominy, etc. Dried beans, split peas. Dehydrated vegetables. Dried dates, figs, raisins. Orange marmalade, sugar, chocolate. Nuts, nut butter. "Although this table is good in its way, it is not a fair measure of the relative value of foods. Even the solid part of some foodstuffs contains a good deal of refuse (potatoes 20 per cent), while others have none. [Illustration: FIVE QUART PAIL TO NEST CANS] "_Nutritive Values_--The nutritive elements of foodstuffs are protein, a little mineral matter, fats, and carbohydrates. Protein is the basis of muscles, bone, tendon, cartilage, skin and corpuscles of the blood. Fats and carbohydrates supply heat and muscular energy. In other words, the human body is an engine; protein keeps it in repair; fats and carbohydrates are the fuel to run it. "Familiar examples of proteids are lean meat and white of egg. The chief food fats are fat meat, butter, lard, oil and cream. Carbohydrates are starchy foods (flour, cereals, etc.) and sugar (sweets of almost any kind). "The problem of a well-balanced ration consists in supplying daily the right proportion of nutritive elements in agreeable and digestible form. The problem of a campaign ration is the same, but cutting out most of the water and waste in which fresh foods abound. However, in getting rid of the water in fresh meats, fruits and vegetables we lose, unfortunately, much of the volatile essences that give these foods their good flavor. This loss--and it is a serious one--must be made up by the camp cook, changing the menu as often as he can by varying the ingredients and the processes of cooking. "_Variety_ is quite as welcome at the camp board as anywhere else, in fact, more so; for it is harder to get. Variety need not mean adding to the load. It means _substituting_, say, three 5-pound parcels for one 15-pound parcel, so as to have something 'different' from day to day. "_Digestibility_--We must bear in mind the adage that 'we live not upon what we eat but upon what we digest.' Some foods rich in protein, especially beans, peas, and oatmeal, are not easily assimilated, unless cooked for a longer time than campers generally can spare. A considerable part of their protein is liable to putrefy in the alimentary canal, and so be worse than wasted. An excess of meat or fish will do the same thing. Other foods of very high theoretical value are constipating if used in large amounts, as cheese, nuts, chocolate. "_Food Components_--Let us now consider the material of field rations, item by item. "_Bacon_--Good old breakfast bacon worthily heads the list, for it is the campaigner's standby. It keeps well in any climate, and demands no special care in packing. It is easy to cook, combines well with almost anything, is handier than lard to fry things with, does just as well to shorten bread or biscuits, is very nutritious, and nearly everybody likes it. Take it with you from home, for you can seldom buy it away from railroad towns. Get the boneless, in 5 to 8 pound flitches. Let canned bacon alone; it lacks flavor and costs more than it is worth. A little mould on the outside of a flitch does no harm, but reject bacon that is soft and watery, or with yellow fat, or with brownish or black spots in the lean. "_Smoked Ham_--Small ones generally are tough and too salty. Hard to keep in warm or damp weather; moulds easily. Is attractive to blow-flies, which quickly fill it with 'skippers' if they can get at it. If kept in a cheesecloth bag and hung in a cool, airy place a ham will last until eaten up and will be relished. Ham will keep, even in warm weather, if packed in a stout paper bag so as to exclude flies. It will keep indefinitely if sliced, boiled or fried and put up in tins with melted lard poured over it to keep out air. * * * "_Canned Soups_--These are wholesome enough, but their fluid kinds are very bulky for their meager nutritive value. However, a few cans of consomme are fine for 'stock' in camp soups or stews, and invaluable in case of sickness. Here, as in canned meat, avoid the country grocery kind. "_Condensed Soups_--Soup powders are a great help in time of trouble--but don't rely on them for a full meal. There are some that are complete in themselves and require nothing but 15 to 20 minutes' cooking; others take longer, and demand (in small type on the label) the addition of ingredients that generally you haven't got. Try various brands at home till you find what you like. "_Cured Fish_--Shredded codfish and smoked halibut, sprats, boneless herring are portable and keep well. They will be relished for variety's sake. "_Eggs_--To vary the camp bill of fare, eggs are simply invaluable, not only by themselves, but as ingredients in cooking. * * * "When means of transportation permit, fresh eggs may be carried to advantage. A hand crate holding 12 dozen weighs about 24 pounds, filled. "Eggs can be packed along in winter without danger of breakage by carrying them frozen. Do not try to boil a frozen egg; peel it as you would a hard-boiled one and then fry or poach. "To test an egg for freshness, drop it into cold water; if it sinks quickly it is fresh; if it stands on end it is doubtful; if it floats it is surely bad. "To preserve eggs, rub them all over with vaseline, being careful that no particle of shell is uncoated. They will keep good much longer than if treated with lime water, salt, paraffine, water-glass or any of the other common expedients. "On hard trips it is impracticable to carry eggs in the shell. Some campers break fresh eggs and pack them in friction-top cans. The yolks soon break and they keep but a short time. _A good brand_ of desiccated eggs is the solution of this problem. It does away with all risk of breaking and spoiling and reduces bulk very much. Desiccated eggs vary a great deal in quality, according to material and process employed. Desiccated eggs made of the yolks are merely useful as ingredients in cooking. "_Milk_--Sweetened condensed milk (the 'salve of the lumberjacks') is distasteful to most people. Plain evaporated milk is the thing to carry--and don't leave it out if you can practicably tote it. The notion that this is a 'baby food' to be scorned by real woodsmen is nothing but a foolish conceit. Few things pay better for their transportation. It will be allowed that Admiral Peary knows something about food values. Here is what he says in _The North Pole_: 'The essentials, and the only essentials, needed in a serious Arctic sledge journey, no matter what the season, the temperature, or the duration of the journey--whether one month or six--are four: pemmican, tea, ship's biscuit, condensed milk. The standard daily ration for work on the final sledge journey toward the Pole on all expeditions has been as follows: 1 lb. pemmican, 1 lb. ship's biscuit, 4 oz. condensed milk, 1/2 oz. compressed tea.' "Milk, either evaporated or powdered, is a very important ingredient in camp cookery. "_Butter_--This is another 'soft' thing that pays its freight. "For ordinary trips it suffices to pack butter firmly into pry-up tin cans which have been sterilized by thorough scalding and then cooled in a perfectly clean place. Keep it in a spring or in cold running water (hung in a net, or weighted in a rock) whenever you can. When traveling, wrap the cold can in a towel or other insulating material. "If I had to cut out either lard or butter I would keep the butter. It serves all the purposes of lard in cooking, is wholesomer, and beyond that, it is the most concentrated source of energy that one can use with impunity. "_Cheese_--Cheese has nearly twice the fuel value of a porterhouse steak of equal weight, and it contains a fourth more protein. It is popularly supposed to be hard to digest, but in reality it is not so if used in moderation. The best kind for campers is potted cheese, or cream or 'snappy' cheese put up in tinfoil. If not so protected from air it soon dries out and grows stale. A tin of imported Camembert will be a pleasant surprise on some occasion. "_Bread Biscuits_--It is well to carry enough yeast bread for two or three days, until the game country is reached and camp routine is established. To keep it fresh, each loaf must be sealed in wax paper or parchment paper (the latter is best, because it is tough, waterproof, greaseproof). Bread freezes easily; for cold weather luncheons carry toasted bread. "_Hardtack_ (pilot bread, ship biscuit) can be recommended only for such trips or cruises as do not permit baking. It is a cracker prepared of plain flour and water, not even salted, and kiln-dried to a chip, so as to keep indefinitely, its only enemies being weevils. Get the coarsest grade. To make hardtack palatable toast it until crisp, or soak in hot coffee and butter it, or at least salt it. "Swedish hardtack, made of whole rye flour, is good for a change. "Plasmon biscuit, imported from England, is the most nutritious breadstuff I have ever used. It is a round cracker, firm but not hard, of good flavor, containing a large percentage of the protein of milk, six of the small biscuits holding as much proteid as a quarter of a pound of beef. "_Flour_--Graham and entire wheat flours contain more protein than patent flour, but this is offset by the fact that it is not so digestible as the protein of standard flour. Practically there is little or no difference between them in the amount of protein assimilated. The same seems to be true of their mineral ingredients. "Many campers depend a good deal on self-raising flour because it saves a little trouble in mixing. But such flour is easily spoiled by dampness, it does not make as good biscuits or flapjacks as one can turn out in camp by doing his own mixing, and it will not do for thickening, dredging, etc. "Flour and meal should be sifted before starting on an expedition. There will be no sieve in camp." "_Baking Powder_--Get the best available powder, put up in air and damp-eight tins, so that your material will be in good condition when you come to use it in camp. Baking soda will not be needed on short trips, but is required for longer ones, in making sour-dough, as a steady diet of baking-powder bread or biscuit will ruin the stomach if persisted in for a considerable time. Soda also is useful medicinally. "_Cornmeal_--Some like yellow, some prefer white. The flavor of freshly ground meal is best, but the ordinary granulated meal of commerce keeps better, because it has been kiln-dried. Cornmeal should not be used as the leading breadstuff, for reasons already given, but johnnycake, corn pancakes, and mush are a welcome change from hot wheat bread or biscuit, and the average novice at cooking may succeed better with them. The meal is useful to roll fish in before frying. "_Breakfast Cereals_--These according to taste, and for variety's sake. Plain cereals, particularly oatmeal, require a long cooking, either in a double boiler or with constant stirring, to make them digestible; and then there is a messy pot to clean up. They do more harm than good to campers who hurry their cooking. So it is best to buy the partially cooked cereals that take only a few minutes to prepare. Otherwise the 'patent breakfast foods' have no more nutritive quality than plain grain; some of them not so much. The notion that bran has remarkable food value is a delusion; it actually makes the protein of the grain less digestible. As for mineral matter, 'to build up bone and teeth and brawn,' there is enough of it in almost any mixed diet, without swallowing a lot of crude fiber. "Rice, although not very appetizing by itself, combines so well in stew or the like, and goes so well in pudding, that it deserves a place in the commissariat. "_Macaroni_--The various pastes (pas-tay, as the Italians call them) take the place of bread, may be cooked in many ways to lend variety, and are especially good in soups which otherwise would have little nourishing power. Spaghetti, vermicelli, and noodles all are good in their way. Break macaroni into inch pieces and pack so that insects cannot get into it. It is more wholesome than flapjacks and it 'sticks to the ribs.' "_Sweets_--Sugar is stored-up energy, and is assimilated more quickly than any other food. Men in the open soon get to craving sweets. "Maple sugar is always welcome. Get the soft kind that can be spread on bread for luncheons. Syrup is easily made from it in camp by simply bringing it to a boil with the necessary amount of water. Ready-made syrup is mean to pack around. "Sweet chocolate (not too sweet) has remarkable sustaining power. "When practicable, take along some jam and marmalade. The commissaries of the British Army were wise when they gave jam an honorable place in Tommy Atkins' field ration. Yes: jam for soldiers in time of war. So many ounces of it, substituted, mind you, for so many ounces of the porky, porky, porky, that has ne'er a streak of lean. So, a little current jelly with your duck or venison is worth breaking all rules for. Such conserves can be repacked by the buyer in pry-up cans that have been sterilized as recommended under the heading _Butter_. "_Fresh Vegetables_--The only ones worth taking along are potatoes and onions. Choose potatoes with small eyes and of uniform medium size, even if you have to buy half a bushel to sort out a peck. They are very heavy and bulky in proportion to their food value; so you cannot afford to be burdened with any but the best. Cereals and beans take the place of potatoes when you go light. "Fresh onions are almost indispensable for seasoning soups, stews, etc. A few of them can be taken along almost anywhere. I generally carry at least one, even on a walking trip. Onions are good for the suddenly overtaxed system, relieve the inordinate thirst that one experiences the first day or two, and assist excretion. Freezing does not spoil onions if they are kept frozen until used. "_Beans_--A prime factor in cold weather camping. Take a long time to cook ('soak all day and cook all night' is the rule). Cannot be cooked done at altitudes of 5,000 feet and upward. Large varieties cook quickest, but the small white navy beans are best for baking. Pick them over before packing, as there is much waste. "_Split Peas_--Used chiefly in making a thick, nourishing soup. "_Dehydrated Vegetables_--Much of the flavor of fresh vegetables is lost when the juice is expressed or evaporated, but all of their nutriment is retained and enough of the flavor for them to serve as fair substitutes when fresh vegetables cannot be carried. They help out a camp stew and may even be served as side dishes if one has butter and milk to season them. Generally they require soaking (which can be done over night); then they are to be boiled slowly until tender, taking about as much time as fresh vegetables. If cooking is hurried they will be woody and tasteless. "Dehydrated vegetables are very portable, keep in any climate, and it is well to carry some on trips far from civilization. "_Canned Vegetables_--In our table of food values it will be noticed that the least nourishing article for its weight and bulk is a can of tomatoes. Yet these 'air-tights' are great favorites with outdoors men, especially in the West and South, where frequently they are eaten raw out of the can. It is not so much their flavor as their acid that is grateful to a stomach overtaxed with fat or canned meat and hot bread three times a day. If wanted only as an adjuvant to soups, stews, rice, macaroni, etc., the more concentrated puree will serve very well. "Canned corn (better still, 'kornlet,' which is concentrated milk of sweet corn) is quite nourishing, and everybody likes it. "A few cans of baked beans (_without_ tomato sauce) will be handy in wet weather. The B. & M. 3/4 lb. cans are convenient for a lone camper or for two going light. "_Nuts_--A handful each of shelled nuts and raisins, with a cake of sweet chocolate, will carry a man far on the trail or when he has lost it. The kernels of butternuts and hickory nuts have the highest fuel value of our native species; peanuts and almonds are very rich in protein; Brazil nuts, filberts and pecans, in fat. Peanut butter is a concentrated food that goes well in sandwiches. One can easily make nut butter of any kind (except almonds or Brazil nuts) for himself by using the nut grinder that comes with a kitchen food chopper, and can add ground dates, ground popcorn, or whatever he likes; but such preparations will soon grow rancid if not sealed airtight. Nut butter is more digestible than kernels unless the latter are thoroughly chewed. "_Fruits_--All fruits are very deficient in protein and (except olives) in fat, but dried fruit is rich in carbohydrates. Fruit acid (that of prunes, dried apricots, and dehydrated cranberries, when fresh fruit cannot be carried) is a good corrective of a too fatty and starchy or sugary diet, and a preventive of scurvy. Most fruits are laxative, and for that reason, if none other, a good proportion of dried fruit should be included in the ration, no matter how light one travels; otherwise one is likely to suffer from constipation when he changes from 'town grub' to 'trail grub.' "Among canned fruits those that go farthest are pineapples and blackberries. Excellent jelly can be made in camp from dried apples. "There is much nourishment in dates, figs (those dried round are better than layer figs) and raisins. Pitted dates and seedless raisins are best for light outfits. And do not despise the humble prune; buy the best grade in the market (unknown to landladies) and soak over night before stewing; it will be a revelation. Take a variety of dried fruits, and mix them in different combinations, sweet and tart, so as not to have the same sauce twice in succession; then you will learn that dried fruits are by no means a poor substitute for fresh or canned ones. "In hot weather I carry a few lemons whenever practicable. Limes are more compact and better medicinally, but they do not keep well. Lime juice in bottles is excellent, if you carry it. "Citric acid crystals may be used in lieu of lemons when going light, but the flavor is not so good as that of lemonade powder that one can put up for himself. The process is described by A. W. Barnard: 'Squeeze out the lemons and sift into the clear juice four to six spoonfuls of sugar to a lemon; let stand a few days if the weather is dry, or a week if wet, till it is dried up, then pulverize and put up into capsules.' Gelatin capsules of any size, from one oz. down, can be procured at a drug store. They are convenient to carry small quantities of spices, flavoring, medicines, etc., on a hike. "Vinegar and pickles are suitable only for fixed camps or easy cruises. "_Fritures_--Lard is less wholesome than olive oil, or 'Crisco,' or the other preparations of vegetable fats. Crisco can be heated to a higher temperature than lard without burning, thus ensuring the 'surprise' which prevents getting a fried article sodden with grease; it does as well as lard for shortening; and it can be used repeatedly without transmitting the flavor of one dish to the next one. Olive oil is superior as a friture, especially for fish, but expensive. "_Beverages_--Tea is better than coffee. Even if you don't use it at home, take along on your camping trip enough for midday meals. Tea tabloids are not bad, but I advise using the real thing. On a hike, with no tea-ball, I tie up enough for each pint in a bit of washed cheesecloth, loosely, leaving enough string attached whereby to whisk it out after exactly four minutes' steeping. "Cocoa is not only a drink but a food. It is best for the evening meal because it makes one sleepy, whereas tea and coffee have the opposite effect. "Get the soluble kind if you want it quickly prepared. "_Condiments_--Do not leave out a small assortment of condiments wherewith to vary the taste of common articles and serve a new sauce or gravy or pudding now and then. "Salt is best carried in a wooden box. The amount used in cooking and at table is small. "White pepper is better than black. Some Cayenne or Chili should also be taken. Red pepper is not only a good stomachic, but also is fine for a chili (made into a tea with hot water and sugar). "Among condiments I class beef extract, bouillon cubes or capsules, and the like. They are of no use as food except to stimulate a feeble stomach or furnish a spurt of energy, but invaluable for flavoring camp-made soups and stews when you are far away from beef. The powder called Oystero yields an oyster flavor. "Mustard is useful not only at table but for medicinal purposes; cloves, not only for its more obvious purposes, but to stick in an onion for a stew, and perchance for a toothache. "Celery and parsley can now be had in dehydrated form. Some sage may be needed for stuffing." Onion and celery salt are real additions to the camp cooking outfit. "If you aim at cake-making and puddings, ginger and cinnamon may be required. Curry powder is relished by many; its harshness may be tempered with sweet fruits or sugar. "On short trips, salt and pepper will meet all requirements. "_Packing Food_--Meat of any kind will quickly mould or spoil if packed in tins from which air is not exhausted. "Flour should not be carried in the original sacks; they wet through or absorb moisture from the air, snag easily, and burst under the strain of a lashrope. Pack your flour, cereals, vegetables, dried fruits, etc., in the round-bottomed paraffined bags sold by outfitters (various sizes, from 10 lbs. down), which are damp-proof and have the further merit of standing up on their bottoms instead of always falling over. Put a tag on each bag and label it in _ink_. These small bags may then be stowed in 9-inch waterproof canvas provision bags (see outfitter's catalogues), but in that case the thing you want is generally at the bottom. * * * "Butter, lard, ground coffee, tea, sugar, jam, matches, go in pry-up tin cans, sold by outfitters (small quantities in mailing tubes), or in common capped tins with tops secured by surgeon's plaster. Get pepper and spices in shaker-top cans, or, if you carry common shakers, cover tops with cloth and snap stout rubber bands around them. "Often it is well to carry separately enough food to last the party between the jumping-off place and the main camp site, as it saves the bother of breaking bulk en route. "When transportation is easy it pays to pack the bread, bags of flour, etc., in a tin wash-boiler or two, which are wrapped in burlaps and crated. These make capital grub boxes in camp, securing their contents from wet, insects and rodents. Ants in summer and mice at all times are downright pests of the woods, to say nothing of the wily coon, the predatory mink, the inquisitive skunk, and the fretful porcupine. The boilers are useful, too, on many occasions to catch rain-water, boil clothes, waterproof and dye tents, and so forth. "_A Last Look Around_--Check off every article in the outfit as it is stowed, and keep the inventory for future reference. Then note what is left over at the end of the trip. This will help in outfitting for the next season." Camp Cooking Meat and fish are easy to cook and require few utensils. Steaks or chops require from four to twelve minutes to broil rare over a good bed of live coals, depending on the thickness of the meat. Place either directly on the coals in wire broiler and raise only an inch or two above the fire. Turn after about 1-1/2 minutes, and afterward turn a little oftener to prevent burning. Chicken or duck of broiling size takes about 20 minutes to broil and requires very particular care in frequent turning to prevent burning. Turn about every 1/2 minute. As portions of the skin show signs of getting too brown baste them with a few drops of hot water from a large spoon. This also tends to keep them moist. The poultry may be cooked by propping the wire broiler upright six to nine inches from a blazing fire. Often the poultry is started this way and finished over the coals, as this saves considerable time in waiting for the fire to burn down. The chicken or duck may be hung close to the fire by a wire from a slanting pole, revolving frequently. An hour is required to roast poultry. _Stew_--Cut meat in small pieces, brown in frying pan (use drippings), remove and place in stew pan in which there is sufficient water to cover stew. Cut vegetables in small pieces, place in frying pan a few minutes--long enough to soften--place in stew pan, season with salt and pepper, cook one-half hour--add flour thickening (water and flour), cover with enough water to prevent stew becoming dry and bury in hot oven for two or three hours. _Broiled Fish_--Place in wire broiler, rubbing broiler first with salt pork or lard to prevent sticking, and broil over coals for about 20 minutes. All fish that is broiled should be served with a little butter sauce. Frying Pan Dishes _Fried Fish_--Cut the fish in pieces; that is, serving portions. Roll fish in cornmeal (this is not absolutely necessary). Fry for about 20 minutes (depending upon thickness of fish) over hot fire, in about 2 tablespoons of heated frying oil. Tried-out bacon, salt pork, lard, Crisco, or prepared cooking oil may be used. _Fish Balls_--Fish balls prepared at home and carried along make good camp food. For group of eight: Ingredients--1 bowl dried codfish soaked several hours in cold water, 1 egg, 2 raw potatoes cut in pieces, 2 ozs. butter, frying oil, 2 tablespoons milk. Boil codfish and potatoes together for about 10 minutes, mash, add 1 beaten egg, butter size of 1/2 small egg (about 2 ozs.), 2 tablespoons milk and stir thoroughly. This mixture should be about the consistency of stiff oatmeal. Heat small amount of frying oil in pan. Drop batter from large spoon into hot oil. When brown, turn and cook on other side. Each patty should cook about three minutes to the side, about six minutes for the whole. _Fried Ham_--Boil in frying pan for about 5 minutes, then pour off water and fry about two minutes on each side. _Fried Bacon_--Fry gently until fat is tried out (Save drippings.) Bacon may also be fried on a hot rock, or cooked on sharp pointed stick with forked ends. _Fried Country Sausage_--Fry sausages over moderate fire for about 15 minutes till they are brown. _Corn Beef Hash_--Carry with the ingredients already prepared 1 part corned beef, chopped, 2 parts chopped cold boiled potatoes. Melt butter or suet into the frying pan. Fry. Vegetables _Boiled Potatoes_--Clean and scrape potatoes. Do not peel. Have water boiling and salted before putting potatoes in pot and keep water boiling until potatoes are soft. Large ones take about 25 minutes to cook. Plan to serve the meal about 25 minutes after the potatoes are put on the fire, for they are best served hot. When potatoes are cooked, drain water and keep hot until served. _Fried Potatoes_--Slice cold boiled potatoes uniformly and fry in hot butter until brown. _Fried Raw Potatoes_--Slice raw potatoes uniformly, boil in frying pan 5 minutes and then fry in butter until brown. _Onions_--Boil in salted water 30 minutes until tender. Onions and potatoes go well together and campers should boil them together. _Green Peas_--Buy them fresh from a farmer near camp if possible. Reject over-ripe pods. Shell and boil about 20 minutes in salted water, keeping peas barely covered. Drain almost all water when cooked and add one ounce of butter. _Green Corn_--Boil corn about five minutes in boiling salted water. Cocoa One teaspoonful (level) to each person, 1/2 cup of water to each person, 1/2 cup of milk to each person. Cook cocoa in water 5 minutes; add to warm milk and allow it to reach boiling point. _Do not boil._ Bread When possible carry along a supply of bread. _Toast_--Toast may either be made over coals or by propping wire broiler upright before blazing fire. "_Biscuit Loaf_--This is a standard camp bread, because it bakes quickly. It is good so long as it is hot, but it dries out soon and will not keep. For four: 3 pints flour, 3 heaping teaspoonfuls baking powder, 1 heaping teaspoonful salt, 2 heaping tablespoonfuls cold grease, 1 scant pint cold water. Amount of water varies according to quality of flour. Baking powders vary in strength; follow directions on can. Mix thoroughly, with big spoon or wooden paddle, first the baking powder with the flour and then the salt. Rub into this the cold grease (which may be lard, cold pork fat, drippings) until there are no lumps left and no grease adhering to bottom of pan. This is a little tedious, but don't shirk it. Then stir in the water and work it with spoon until you have a rather stiff dough. Have the pan greased. Turn the loaf into it and bake. Test center of loaf with a sliver when you think it properly done. When no dough adheres remove bread. All hot breads should be broken with the hand, never cut. "To freshen any that is left over and dried out, sprinkle a little water over it and heat through. This can be done but once." Washing Dishes Every part of the camp work should be a pleasure, and there is no reason whatever that dish washing should be an exception. If the following directions for dish washing are followed the work may be so quickly and perfectly done as to be part of the fun. 1. Each girl should throw scraps from her plate into a trench or receptacle. Do not throw food scraps on the camp fire, as they make a disagreeable smoke. 2. Wipe each plate and other utensils as clean as possible with paper napkin, and throw napkin in the fire. 3. Scrape out all cooking pots. If any material has burned on them, boil them out with one ounce of washing soda to one quart of water. 4. Pile all dishes thus prepared beside the two dish-pans. Partly fill the dish-pans with boiling water, putting a heaping teaspoonful of powdered soap in one. 5. Wash dishes with dish mop, and rinse in other pan of hot water. If the water is kept hot one girl can keep two busy drying, and the whole operation for a party of four should not take over ten minutes. If unskillfully done, without sufficient hot water or preparation, it is a disagreeable task. Try to make it a pleasant one. The coffee pot should be frequently boiled out with washing soda. The wire broilers may be cleaned by rubbing them with ashes from the camp fire. In nesting a blackened cooking pail, wrap it in paper to prevent soiling the inside of the pail into which it fits. Use the fewest dishes possible in cooking and you will lighten your labor. Use the same plates for different courses, rinsing them with hot water. Be sure to carry in your dish washing outfit, washing soda, powdered soap and dish mops. "Dutch Cleanser" is very useful in cleaning dishes, pots and pans. After washing up for the night, put utensils and provision box together and cover with rubber cloth to protect them from the weather. Cleaning Up _This is important!_ If you leave your camping place littered with tin cans, paper, etc., you will be spoiling that place for future campers. Burn all waste paper and string. Bury tin cans and empty bottles. Bury food scraps and refuse. _Be absolutely certain that you have extinguished your fire._ You should take pride in leaving your camp site so clean that not one evidence of your camping remains except the ashes of the fire. [Illustration: PHOTOGRAPH BY G. CLYDE FISHER.] _Climb the mountains and get their good tidings._ _Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves._ --_John Muir._ MOUNTAIN CLIMBING BY ELOISE ROORBACH, GARDEN EDITOR OF "TOUCHSTONE." Mountain climbing is the final test of a Girl Scout's perseverance in following a trail, in endurance, courage and woodcraftmanship. Nature reserves her choicest beauties and secrets for those who know how to conquer all difficulties. No Girl Scout's education is complete until she has seen mountain peaks like waves of the sea flashing with white snow foam, piercing the blue sky as far as the eye can reach; clouds forming below her feet; breathed rare air found only in high places; drunk from the pure source of rivers, and heard the mighty roar of waterfalls. A climb to a high mountain top is an experience that will enrich and influence the entire after life of whoever has had the hardihood and wisdom to accomplish it. Before attempting this last test of scouting the girl must be in perfect physical trim, be able to sleep on the ground, have learned to live simply. Girls should train for this experience by taking graduated hikes. On these hikes the girls can practice using the condensed foods that must be depended upon in mountain climbing. The rations for those who wish to climb to high places must necessarily be condensed, for each Scout must carry her own rations for two weeks. The foundation of a mountain climber's bill of fare is rice, bacon, cheese, chocolate, raisins, dates, dried fruits, powdered soups, whole wheat crackers, and tea. _Tea should be used instead of coffee._ The eating chocolate is sometimes made into a refreshing drink. Only a small amount of sugar and salt can be carried. This fare is augmented by mushrooms, wild fruit and berries and fish. Watercress is a refreshing addition and a good Scout knows where to find it. Some hardened climbers add a little "jerky" (dried meats) to this bill of fare. No definite rule of distance to be covered in a day can be laid down. In the high mountains ten or twelve miles a day should be considered a maximum, for part of the benefit to be gained from such trips is the enjoyment of the trip itself. It is better to go a few miles slowly, observing keenly all the time, stopping for frequent rests to examine a flower, to drink at a clear spring, to feast upon the view, than to cover more ground in a hurried way. The following is a suggestion for the management of a day in high mountain altitudes. Arise with the sun or a little before breakfast. Breakfast consists of rice, dried fruit (put to soak the night before), bacon, and shredded wheat biscuit. Before packing, make a small package of cheese, chocolate, raisins and biscuit for the noon lunch that can be reached without having to unpack equipment. There should be a rest of at least an hour at noon, eating slowly, throwing off the pack, and if possible relaxing flat on the back for a while. Then another hike of three or four miles, making camp early in the evening, about 5 o'clock. This divides the day into three periods of hikes with a rest in between. The dinner is like breakfast, with the addition of soup. Soup can be prepared and eaten while the rice is cooking. Mountain trout can be fried with bacon. The equipment must be of the lightest. Clothing should consist of one pair of stout, high, waterproof, hob-nailed boots; one pair of light moccasins, to rest the feet in camp; short skirt; middy; riding breeches or bloomers (for in crossing difficult passes skirts must be discarded); hat; gauntlet gloves; one change of underclothes; three pairs of wool stockings; one sweater; one comb (no brush); one small pocket mirror; ivory soap or soap leaves; one tube of cold cream; compass; fishing rod, lines and hooks; rope; leather thongs; stout string; note-book and map; small hatchet; matches (in waterproof case). [Illustration: GIANT ALASKAN MOOSE The largest member of the deer tribe. The antlers which are worn only by the male are shed once a year. Range: This and related forms found in northern United States, Canada, and Alaska. Courtesy of American Museum of Natural History.] No guns, books or cameras can be carried on a high hike, for their weight is prohibitive. A sleeping bag made of eiderdown, lined with canton flannel and covered with oiled silk or duck's back can be rolled and carried across the shoulders. A knife, fork and spoon in addition to the big sheath knife worn at the belt, one frying pan, tin plate and cup (aluminum should be used in preference as tin rusts easily), a rice and a soup kettle are all the cooking utensils needed. If a company of Girl Scouts attempts a high mountain climb, additional covers of clothing and food can be carried on a pack mule, but this chapter is for those who wish to climb unencumbered with pack animals. It is by far the finest way to see the high mountains, though it must be admitted few have the hardihood or courage to try it. The new Roosevelt National Park, one of the most magnificent playgrounds in the world, can be visited in the way just described. The writer of this chapter has walked all through this park carrying the clothing, food and equipment just described. Every day of the journey found her in better physical trim, vigor, strength, and with keenness of vision and joy of life increased daily. [Illustration: BUSY BEAVERS AT WORK The largest gnawing animal in this country, noted for damming streams with trees (which they cut down by gnawing), mud, and stones. Range: This or related races formerly found practically all over this country, and northward into Canada. Detail from Habitat Group in American Museum of Natural History.] THE RED GOD Now the Four-way Lodge is opened: Now the hunting winds are loose, Now the Smokes of Spring go up to clear the brain; Now the young men's hearts are troubled for the whisper of the trues, Now the Red Gods make their medicine again! Who hath seen the beaver busied? Who hath watched the black-tail mating? Who hath lain alone to hear the wild goose cry? Who hath worked the chosen waters where the ouananiche is waiting? Or the sea-trout's jumping crazy for the fly? Who hath smelled wood-smoke at twilight? Who hath smelled the birch log burning? Who is quick to read the noises of the night? Let him follow with the others, for the young men's feet are turning To the camps of proved desire and known delight! Do you know the blackened timber? Do you know that racing stream With the raw, right-angled log-jam at the end? And the bar of sun-warmed shingle where a man may bask and dream To the click of shod canoe-poles round the bend? It is there that we are going with our rods and reels and traces To a silent, smoky Indian that we know, To a couch of new-pulled hemlock with the starlight on our faces, For the Red Gods call us out and we must go! _He must go--go--go away from here! On the other side the world he's overdue. 'Send your road is clear before you when the old spring-fret comes o'er you And the Red Gods call for you!_ --Rudyard Kipling. [Illustration: LOON WITH NEST From Group in American Museum of Natural History] FOOTNOTE: [5] The passages in this section, from "Camping and Woodcraft," by Horace Kephart, are used by permission of the author and the publisher, the Macmillan Company, and are copyrighted, 1916, by the Macmillan Company. SECTION XV NATURE STUDY FOR GIRL SCOUTS FOREWORD The following section was specially prepared for the Girl Scouts by Mr. George H. Sherwood, Curator, and Dr. G. Clyde Fisher, Associate Curator, of the Department of Public Education of the American Museum of Natural History. All the illustrations used were supplied by the Museum, and the tests in the various subjects were devised by the same authors. The American Museum of Natural History in New York conducts special courses of lectures in all of the branches of Natural History, and extends a cordial invitation to all Girl Scouts to visit the Department of Education if wishing help in preparation for their Nature Study tests. _Contents_ 1. Introduction to Nature Study. 2. Plants: Flowers and Ferns and Trees. 3. Animals: Mammals Birds Reptiles Amphibians Fishes Invertebrates 4. Geology. [Illustration: AN EGRET "ROOKERY" IN SOUTH CAROLINA. The demand for the nuptial plumes of this bird in the millinery trade brought it to the verge of extermination. Range: Temperate and tropical America. Habitat Group in The American Museum of Natural History.] 1. Introduction to Nature Study _To the solid ground Of Nature trusts the mind which builds for aye._ --_Wordsworth._ _To understand nature is to gain one of the greatest resources of life._ --_John Burroughs._ Nature Study means getting acquainted with the multitude of creatures, great and small, which inhabit the land, the water, and the air, and with the objects which surround them. Mother Nature has many, many secrets which she will reveal to sharp eyes and alert minds. It is, of course, impossible for any one to learn all these secrets, but the mastering of a few makes it easier to learn others, until finally it becomes clear that all life is related and that the humblest creature may be of the greatest importance to the welfare of the highest. It is for these reasons that the _Girl Scout_ should learn as much as possible of the Wonders of Nature. This study may begin wherever you are, but rapid progress will be made by rambles afield and by visits to the great Natural History Museums. For example, a visit to the exhibition halls of the American Museum of Natural History in New York will answer many of your questions about animals you have seen and will enable you to answer many others for yourself, when you go out into the country. Nature Study in its broadest application includes all of the natural sciences, such as zoology, botany, geology, meteorology, and astronomy. So, there are many fascinating fields for study and enjoyment, and it does not matter much where we begin, whether it be Wild Flowers, Trees, Birds, Butterflies, or Stars. [Illustration: THE BULLFROG IN ITS NATURAL SURROUNDINGS See Snake, Turtle and Dragonfly and notice the tongue of the frog. Habitat Group in Museum of Natural History] Of the more practical subjects especially suited to the activities of the Girl Scout are those civic problems which can only be solved by team-play; that is, by working together. Among these may be mentioned: The preservation of birds, wild flowers, and forests; control of mosquitoes, house-flies, rats, weeds; diseases of plants and animals, including man. The civic nature of these problems is appreciated when we realize that it would do little good, for example, for one person to destroy the breeding-places of mosquitoes on his premises, if his neighbors did not do likewise about their homes; or for one orchardist to cut out the blight from his pear-trees or the black-knot from his plum-trees, if his neighbors did not co-operate with him by ridding their orchards of these diseases. These practical questions are so well presented, together with plans for their solution, in _Civic Biology_, by Clifton F. Hodge and Jean Dawson (Ginn & Co.), that instead of going into details here, both the _Girl Scouts_ and their Leaders are referred to this most useful work. All objects of Nature are either living (organic) or non-living (inorganic). The non-living bodies include the minerals and rocks. The living bodies are either plants or animals. Plants may be divided into two great groups, the flowerless plants and flowering plants. In general the flowerless plants reproduce by means of spores, like the mushroom and the ferns, while the flowering plants reproduce by means of seeds. [Illustration: ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT This animal is really not a goat, but is more nearly related to the antelopes. Range: The higher mountains from Alaska south to California. Group in American Museum of Natural History.] Animals may be separated into two great groups, those without backbones (invertebrates) like an oyster, a cricket, or an earthworm, and those with backbones, e.g., a dog, a fish. In this brief study we shall not go into much detail about invertebrates, but with the backboned animals or vertebrates we shall go a little further. These may be divided into five general groups: (1) Fishes; (2) Amphibians, which include frogs, toads, and salamanders; (3) Reptiles, which include alligators, crocodiles, turtles, lizards, and snakes; (4) Birds; (5) Mammals. This simple analysis may be clearly shown by the following diagram: {_Mammals_ {_Birds_ {_Vertebrates_{_Reptiles_ { {_Amphibians_ { {_Fishes_ {_Animals_{ { {_Invertebrates_ {_Living Bodies_{ { (_Organic_) { {_Flowering Plants_ _Objects_{ { {_Flowerless Plants_ _of_ { _Nature_ {_Non-living Bodies_ { (_Inorganic_) This classification could be carried further at every point, but this will be far enough for present purposes. It should be remembered in any classification that there are no hard and fast lines in Nature. For example, some creatures are on the border-land between plants and animals, and again some animals are between the backboned animals and those without backbones. [Illustration: GREAT-LEAVED MAGNOLIA A forest tree with large solitary white flowers. Range: Southern and Southeastern United States.] 2. Plants Wild Flowers and Ferns _Flower in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies; Hold you here, root and all, in my hand. Little flower--but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is._ --_Tennyson._ Do you know the earliest spring flower in your neighborhood? In the northern United States it is usually found in bloom before all the snow of winter is gone. In some swamp or along some stream where the snow has melted away in patches it is possible to find the Skunk Cabbage in bloom very early in the spring. See how early you can find it. In the southern United States, one of the earliest spring flowers is the yellow Jessamine, which twines over bushes and trees thus displaying its fragrant, golden bells. [Illustration: TRAILING ARBUTUS One of our earliest spring flowers, usually growing in patches in sandy or rocky woods. Range: Eastern United States westward to Michigan. Photograph by G. Clyde Fisher.] As the season advances, other flowers appear, and we find the Spring Beauty, the Trailing Arbutus, the Bloodroot, and the Hepatica. What delightful associations each of these names brings to our minds! By the time summer is here we have an entirely different flower-population in the fields and woods--the Cardinal Flower with its intense red color and the Pink Lady's-Slipper with its drooping moccasin-shaped lip are to be found then. In the autumn we have a different group of flowers still--the Goldenrods, the Asters, and the Fringed Gentian, the season closing with our latest fall flower, the Witch-hazel. [Illustration: PINK MOCCASIN-FLOWER A striking native wild orchid growing in sandy or rocky woods. Range: Newfoundland to North Carolina westward to Minnesota. Photograph by G. Clyde Fisher.] Some flowers and ferns grow best in the shady woods, others in the sunny fields, some on the rocks and others in the marshes. We soon learn where to look for our favorites. In taking tramps along the roads, across the fields, through the woods, and into the swamps, we could notice along the roadside Bouncing-Bet, Common Yarrow, Dandelion, Thistles, and Goldenrod; in the fields and meadows, we would see the Ox-eye Daisy, Black-eyed Susan, Wild Carrot, and the most beautiful fall flower of the northeastern United States, the Fringed Gentian; in the woods, Mountain Laurel, Pink Azalea, a number of wild Orchids, Maidenhair Fern, and Jack-in-the Pulpit; in the marshes, Pink Rose-mallow, which reminds us of the Hollyhocks of our Grandmother's garden, Pickerel-weed, Water-lily, and Marsh Marigold. It is natural to want to know the name of any plant that interests us, and this is important. As in the subjects of Birds, there are many helpful books on Flowers and Ferns. Beginners will find "The Flower Guide," by Chester A. Reed (Doubleday, Page & Co.) to be useful. After a good start has been made, such books as Gray's _Manual_, or Britton and Brown's _Illustrated Flora_ should be used. Our pursuit, however, should not stop with the name of a plant. That is a mere beginning. Even slight attention will uncover many fascinating things in the lives of plants. Why cannot a farmer raise a good crop of clover-seed without the bumble-bees? What devices are there among the Orchids to bring about cross-pollination? (See "Our Native Orchids," by William Hamilton Gibson). Examine the flower of the wild Blue Flag, and see whether you can determine how the bumble-bee cross-pollinates this plant. Do the Hummingbirds cross-pollinate some flowers? In what plants is the pollen scattered by the wind? Do these plants produce nectar? [Illustration: GAILLARDIA OR BLANKET-FLOWER Daisy family. Range: Hills and plains of western United States and Canada. Photograph by Albert E. Butler.] How do the various plants scatter their seeds? How are the Hickory-nuts and Walnuts scattered? The Dandelion's and Thistle's seeds have flying-hairs or parachutes and are blown about by the wind. What other plants can you find whose seeds are scattered in the same way? Can you discover a plant whose seeds are carried by water? The Witch-hazel shoots its seeds. What other plants can you find that have explosive fruits? Cherry-seeds are carried by birds. Mention some other seeds that are carried in this way. It would take very little observation to learn how Burdock-burs, Cockle-burs, Stick-tights, Beggar-lice, Spanish-needles, and such hooked fruits are scattered. [Illustration: BLACK-EYED SUSAN A beautiful and abundant flower of the fields. Range: Eastern North America westward to the Rocky Mountains. Photograph by G. Clyde Fisher.] Learn the names of the principal noxious weeds of the farm and garden, and also learn the best methods of combating them. Learn to know the plants in your vicinity which are used in the making of drugs. [Illustration: LOCO-WEED A poisonous plant which produces loco-disease in cattle, sheep, and horses that eat it. Range: Plains from Montana to Colorado. Photograph by Albert E. Butler.] Learn to know the poisonous plants around your home and summer camp. Are the following to be found there: Poison Ivy, Poison Sumach, Loco-weed, Bittersweet (_Salanum Dulcamara_), Black Nightshade, Jimsonweed, Poke-weed, Poison Hemlock? [Illustration: SHOWY PRIMROSE Not a true Primrose, but a member of the Evening Primrose Family. Range: Prairies of western United States and northern Mexico; also naturalized farther east. Photograph by Mr. and Mrs. Leo E. Miller.] Trees _He who wanders widest lifts No more of beauty's jealous veils, Than he who from his doorway sees The miracle of flowers and trees._ --_Whittier_ The trees of the forest are of two classes, deciduous trees and evergreen trees. To the former belong those which shed their leaves in the fall, are bare in the winter, and then grow a new crop of leaves in the spring, e.g., oaks, elms, maples. The evergreen trees shed their leaves also, but not all at one time. In fact, they always have a goodly number of leaves, and are consequently green all the year round, e.g., pines, spruces, firs. [Illustration: RHODODENDRON OR GREAT LAUREL A tall shrub, or sometimes a tree, growing in woods and along streams. Range: Eastern North America from Nova Scotia to Georgia. Photograph by Albert E. Butler.] The uses of wood are so many and various that we can only begin to mention them. In looking about us we see wood used in building houses, in making furniture, for railroad ties, and for shoring timbers in mines. In many country districts wood is used for fuel. And do you realize that only a short time ago the newspaper which you read this morning and the book which you now hold in your hand were parts of growing trees in the forest? Paper is made of wood-pulp, mostly from Spruce. [Illustration: CHRISTMAS FERN An evergreen fern growing in woods and rocky places. Range: Eastern United States and Canada. Photograph by Mary C. Dickerson.] Besides the direct uses of wood, we turn to the forest for many interesting and valuable products, varying in importance from a balsam-pillow filled with the fragrant leaves or needles of the Balsam Fir, to turpentine and rosin (naval stores), produced chiefly by the Long-leaved Pine of the Southeastern States. Spruce gum is obtained from the Black Spruce and Red Spruce. Canada balsam used in cementing lenses together in microscopes, telescopes, and the like, comes from the Balsam Fir. Bark for tanning comes from Oak and Hemlock. The Indians of the Eastern Woodlands or Great Lakes area made canoes and many other useful articles of the bark of the Canoe or Paper Birch. Baskets are made from Willow twigs. Maple sugar comes chiefly from the Sugar Maple. [Illustration: IN A TURPENTINE GROVE The long-leaved Pine furnishes most of the turpentine and rosin of commerce. Range: Virginia to Florida and Texas. Photograph by G. Clyde Fisher.] [Illustration: BLACK SUGAR MAPLE The sap of this tree, as well as the more common Sugar Maple, is the source of maple sugar. Range: Eastern United States and southeastern Canada.] The turpentine industry is the chief one in parts of the South where the Long-leaved Pine thrives. The United States produces more turpentine and rosin than any other country in the world. The turpentine is used in paints and in various arts. The rosin is used in varnish, laundry soap, etc. These two products come from the sap or "gum" of the pine tree. The sap is secured by tapping or "boxing" the tree, and then keeping the cut ducts of the sap-wood open by "chipping" or "pulling," that is, by putting a new "streak" on the tree. This has to be done once a week from March 1 to November 1. The sap used to be collected in a "box" or deep notch cut in the base of the tree, but the modern method is to have it run into cups made of zinc or of burned clay similar to flower-pots. The sap is taken to a turpentine still where it is heated over a furnace. This drives off the turpentine or "spirits" as steam or vapor, which is condensed to liquid again by passing through the worm of the still surrounded by cold water. The rosin or resin is left behind. [Illustration: COMMON FALL MUSHROOM An excellent article of food growing commonly in old pasture fields. Range: Temperate and tropical regions all over the world. Photograph by G. Clyde Fisher.] The Sugar Maple grows from Florida and Texas northward to Manitoba and Quebec, but it is only in the northern part of its range that the maple sugar industry thrives. This delicious food is one of the many that we learned to utilize from the Indians. The sap is obtained by tapping the tree in the spring before the leaves come out, the best weather for the flow of sap being that when it freezes at night and thaws in the daytime. The sap is boiled down; that is, the water is driven off and the sugar remains. It takes about three gallons, or a little more, of sap to make a pound of maple sugar. Three to four pounds of sugar is an average yield for one tree in a season. Much of the sap, however, is not boiled down into sugar, but the boiling is stopped while it is in the form of syrup. If you have ever eaten buckwheat cakes with real maple syrup you will always esteem the Sugar Maple tree. The forests perform extremely valuable services for mankind entirely apart from the products they yield. First, they prevent erosion, or the washing away of soil by the water that falls as rain. After the trees have been cut away, very often, especially upon hillsides, the most productive soil is washed away, usually clear off of the original owner's farm, and deposited in the flood-plains or bottoms of creeks and rivers or in river deltas--in places where it cannot be utilized to any great extent. Thus erosion causes a tremendous loss to farmers, and it is chiefly due to the thoughtlessness of the American people in destroying the forests. Second, and chiefly related to this, is the fact that the floods upon our rivers, which every year take such heavy toll in property and in human life, are due to the cutting away of the forests. This allows the water from rain and melting snow to reach the streams at times faster than it can be carried off, and so we have a flood. The forest floor, with its undergrowth and humus, in those localities where the forests still exist about the headwaters of our rivers, acts like a huge layer of blotting paper which holds the water back and allows it to escape to the streams slowly, and so floods are avoided. Third, and related to the above, is the fact that the water supply of our cities would be more constant if the forests had not been cut away. In these cases the summer droughts make much greater the danger from water-borne diseases. [Illustration: WESTERN YELLOW PINE A magnificent tree which furnishes valuable timber. Range: Hills and mountains of western United States. Photograph by Albert E. Butler.] [Illustration: ROADS THROUGH THE ASPENS Range: Northern United States and Canada, south in the Rocky Mountains to Mexico. Photograph by Albert E. Butler.] It is only in recent years that the American people have begun to realize the necessity of the conservation of our forests, and in many sections much has been done to redeem the criminal thoughtlessness in destroying our forests and to restore those devastated by forest fires. Reforestation operations have accomplished a great deal, and the organization to prevent forest fires emphasizes the old adage that "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." Also the people are being taught correct forestry practices, such as cutting only ripe trees and allowing the rest to grow, instead of clearing the land entirely, as was formerly done so universally. [Illustration: BALD CYPRESS DRAPED WITH SPANISH "MOSS." This tree is almost entirely hidden by this "moss," which is really a flowering plant of the Pineapple family. Range: In swamps and along rivers from Delaware to Florida, west to Texas, north to Missouri and southern Indiana. Photograph by G. Clyde Fisher.] The life history of every tree is interesting; how it breathes by means of its leaves, just as the animals do by means of gills or lungs; how it manufactures starch by means of the green matter in the leaves; how the starch is changed to sugar and other substances which are carried to other parts of the tree in the sap; how the sap flows upward in the vessels in the sap-wood and downward in the vessels of the inner bark; how the entire heart-wood of a tree is dead and the only living part is the sap-wood and the innermost bark. One of the first things we shall want to know when we get out into the woods is the name of the tree that interests us. For this purpose the books given as references under "Trees" will be useful. [Illustration: TIMBER WOLVES ON THE TRAIL Closely related to foxes and dogs. Range: Formerly over most of North America. Habitat Group in American Museum of Natural History.] [Illustration: BABY OPOSSUMS RIDING ON THEIR MOTHER'S BACK For the first few weeks after they are born the mother carries her babies in her pocket; later they ride on her back holding on by clinging to her fur with their paws and by wrapping their tails about that of their mother. Range: Middle and Southern States. From Group in American Museum of Natural History.] 3. ANIMALS Mammals Mammals differ from birds in that they have hair instead of feathers, and that they are first fed upon milk produced by the mother. Unfortunately the mammals are usually called simply _animals_, but the latter is obviously too inclusive a term and should not be used in this way. There is no reason why the name _mammal_ should not be commonly used, just as _birds_, _reptiles_, _amphibians_, and _fishes_ are used for the other groups of backboned animals. [Illustration: NEW YORK WEASEL IN SUMMER PELAGE] [Illustration: OTTER WITH ITS FAVORITE FOOD The Otter belongs to the Weasel family, and feeds almost entirely upon fish. Range: This and related varieties over Northern and Eastern North America. From Group in American Museum of Natural History.] In the United States the lowest or most primitive mammal is the Opossum. The baby Opossums--from six to a dozen of them--are born when very small and undeveloped and are immediately placed by the mother in an external pouch, where they continue to grow until they are too large to get into their mother's pocket; then they frequently ride upon their mother's back, clinging to her fur with their finger-like toes and wrapping their tails about their mother's tail. The Opossum is the only animal in this country the young of which are carried around in the mother's pocket, and the only one which has a prehensile tail; that is, one used for coiling around and clinging to branches, and the like. Its food is various, consisting of both animal and plant material--insects, young birds, pawpaws, persimmons, etc. In the food devoured the Opossum probably does more good than harm. [Illustration: NEW YORK WEASEL IN WINTER A blood-thirsty cousin of the Otter and the Mink. Range: This and related species found all over United States and Canada. Group in American Museum of Natural History.] [Illustration: RACCOON AT ENTRANCE TO ITS DEN IN A HOLLOW TREE A near relative of the bears. Note the black face-mark and the ringed tail. Range: This or a related variety occurs in all parts of United States. Photograph from American Museum of Natural History.] In their food habits many mammals are decidedly injurious. Rats, Weasels, Minks, and Foxes destroy poultry; Wolves and Pumas kill domestic and game animals; Woodchucks or Groundhogs eat clover and various garden plants; Moles damage the lawns; Rats, Mice, and Gophers spoil and devour grain; Mice and Rabbits girdle fruit trees, thus killing them. On the other hand, many mammals furnish food; _e. g._, Rabbits, Elk, and Deer. This was more important in pioneer times than at present. Many furnish furs used as articles of clothing; _e. g._, Raccoon, Fox, Muskrat, Mink, Otter, Marten, Mole, New York Weasel and other northern weasels in their winter coats. [Illustration: POLAR BEAR An expert swimmer. Feeds upon seals, fish and other animal food. Range: Arctic regions of the world. Habitat Group in American Museum of Natural History.] Many furs are usually sold under trade names that are entirely different from the true name of the animal. A list of a few fur-bearing mammals of the United States having trade names differing from the true names follows: _The True Fur_ _The Trade Name_ Dark blended Muskrat Russian Otter Mink blended Muskrat Natural River Mink Natural Muskrat[6] River Mink Natural Jersey Muskrat River Sable Plucked and Seal-dyed Muskrat Hudson Seal Plucked and Seal-dyed Muskrat Aleutian Seal Skunk Black Marten Striped Skunk Civet Cat N.Y. Weasel in winter pelage Ermine [Illustration: SKUNKS--MOTHER AND YOUNG HUNTING FOR GRASSHOPPERS AND CRICKETS Noted for its ability to emit a most unpleasant odor when disturbed. Range: Eastern North America. Portion of Group in American Museum of Natural History.] [Illustration: MINK A cousin of the Weasel and Otter, the Mink feeds upon frogs, crayfish, mice, bird's eggs, etc. Range: This and closely related forms over most of United States, Canada, and Alaska. From Group in American Museum of Natural History.] A few suggestions for observation or study: 1. What peculiar instinct or habit has the Opossum developed? 2. How does the flight of a Bat differ from that of a Flying Squirrel? 3. Can you notice any peculiarity in the Rabbit's track? 4. Mention three mammals that hibernate. 5. Describe the methods of defense in the following mammals: Armadillo, Porcupine, Skunk. 6. Why do the front teeth of the Squirrel and the Beaver continue to grow? The best way to find the answers to these questions is by actual observation of the animals, but when this is impossible, the references given under "Mammals" will be found useful. [Illustration: RED FOX RETURNING TO ITS YOUNG FROM SOME FARMER'S HEN-ROOST The Cross Fox, the Silver Fox, and the Black Fox are color phases of the Red Fox, and not different species. Range: Northern North America south to Georgia. Habitat Group in American Museum of Natural History.] [Illustration: BALD-EAGLE The American Eagle, the Emblem of our Country. Range: United States] Birds _He who takes the first step in ornithology is ticketed for the whole trip._--_John Burroughs._ [Illustration: A GREBE COLONY IN SASKATCHEWAN Showing the Western Grebe and the smaller Grebe. Note the young Grebe riding on its mothers' back. Another parent is covering its eggs preparatory to leaving the nest. Range of both these species: Western North America. Habitat Group in the American Museum of Natural History.] The love of the beautiful seems to be innate; that is, born in us. And the birds appeal to this in at least two ways: First, on account of the beauty of their songs, and second, on account of the beauty of their plumage. [Illustration: SCREECH OWL The Screech Owl feeds largely upon mice and other destructive rodents. Range: Eastern North America.] Among the birds that have especially beautiful songs are the Thrushes, which include the Robin and the Bluebird, the finest singer in this family probably being the Hermit Thrush. In the Southern States there is no more popular singer among the birds than the Mockingbird. But it should be remembered that a bird's song cannot be separated from the associations which it calls up in one's memory. So that the performance of an ordinary songster may be more pleasing to one than that of some finer one because of youthful associations. [Illustration: SAND HILL CRANES IN FLORIDA Unlike the Herons, these birds fly with neck fully extended. Their loud, resonant trumpeting is as characteristic as the honking of Wild Geese. Range: North America. Habitat Group in The American Museum of Natural History.] [Illustration: GREAT HORNED OWL Rabbits constitute a favorite food when available. Poultry and other birds are also destroyed by this owl. Range: Eastern North America.] It seems to be a general law of nature that the finest songsters have the plainest coats. [Illustration: BROWN PELICANS IN FLORIDA The Pelicans nest in colonies, and the young feed from the parents' throats. Range: Gulf coast of U. S. and southward. Habitat Group in The American Museum of Natural History.] [Illustration: EGRETS: PARENT BIRDS] Among the birds that we enjoy on account of their beautiful plumage are the Egrets, every feather of their coats being as white as snow, and the plumes of these birds are so beautiful, and human beings have been so thoughtless that the Egrets have been almost exterminated in order to supply the millinery trade. These plumes, known as aigrettes, grow on the backs between the shoulders of both the male and female birds, and are worn only during the nesting season. The only time during the nesting season that the plume hunter finds it profitable to hunt these birds is when the young are in the nest. At any other time the birds would be so wild that the plume hunter could not easily shoot them. When the young are in the nest the parental love is so strong that the adult birds cannot resist the instinct to return to feed the nestlings when they are begging for food. In this way both the father bird and the mother bird become an easy prey for the ambushed plume hunter, and there is but one thing that can happen to the baby Egrets in the nest after both of their parents have been killed--they starve to death. This is one of the most cruel phases of the plume trade, and there is no other way to secure the aigrette plumes of the Egrets than by killing the adult birds. Fortunately, in the United States it is against the law to shoot these birds, and it is against the law to import the plumes. Until recently it has not been illegal to wear these plumes, and the fact that there are still a few women who adorn their hats with them has encouraged the illegal and cruel killing of these birds in our country, or the smuggling in of the plumes from some other country. In the latter part of 1919 the federal regulations have been interpreted to make it illegal to possess aigrette plumes, and henceforth the law will be so enforced. This is the successful culmination of a long fight by the Audubon Society. [Illustration: GOLDEN PLOVER The Golden Plover makes the longest single flight known to be made by any bird in migration,--that is, 2,500 miles from Nova Scotia across the open ocean to South America. Range: North and South America.] [Illustration: BOBOLINK During the autumn migration this bird is the Reedbird or Ricebird. Range: North and South America.] A few other birds of striking plumage are the Bluejay, the Bluebird, the Baltimore Oriole, the Scarlet Tanager, the Cedar Waxwing, and Red-winged Blackbird. Turning from the esthetic value of birds, which depends, among other things, upon the beauty of their songs and the beauty of other plumage, we may consider the value of birds in dollars and cents. [Illustration: WILD TURKEY IN WEST VIRGINIA Our most magnificent game-bird. Note how much the young resembles the dead leaves. Range: Eastern United States west to Nebraska and Texas. Habitat Group in The American Museum of Natural History.] [Illustration: NORTHERN SHRIKE IMPALING A HOUSE SPARROW UPON A THORN The habit illustrated here has given the Shrike the name of Butcher-bird. It is surprising to find a song-bird with the habits of a bird of prey. Range: Northern North America.] [Illustration: DUCK HAWKS ON THE PALISADES OF THE HUDSON The "Noble Peregrine" of falconry carrying a pigeon to its young. Range: North and South America. Habitat Group in The American Museum of Natural History.] Every farmer and gardener must cultivate his crops and fight the weeds which are always crowding out the plants he is trying to raise, and in this fight he is helped by a great many birds of various kinds. Among these are the Mourning Dove, the Bob-White, and members of the Sparrow family, such as the Goldfinch, the Junco, and the Song Sparrow. In this country, in the aggregate, these seed-eating birds destroy every year tons of seeds of the noxious weeds, and are therefore valuable friends of the gardener and farmer. For more definite data see bulletins published by the U. S. Department of Agriculture, or "Useful Birds and Their Protection," by Edward Howe Forbush (Massachusetts Board of Agriculture). [Illustration: A KILLDEER FAMILY This plover is common in meadows, cultivated fields, and about ponds and lakes. It gets its name from its note. Range: North and South America.] Thousands of bushels of grain are eaten or spoiled by small mammals, such as mice, rats, and spermophiles or gophers. To the relief of the farmer, many birds feed upon these destructive little rodents. The Crow occasionally captures a mouse, while the Shrikes or Butcher-birds catch a great many. The Screech Owl feeds largely upon mice. The Red-tailed Hawk is called the Hen-hawk or Chicken-hawk by most farmers, but this is very unfair to the bird, for its principal food is mice. In fact, most of the Hawks and Owls of the United States are really valuable friends of the farmer because of the injurious rodents which they devour. (See "_Hawks and Owls of the United States_," by A. K. Fisher.) [Illustration: STARLING Introduced 1890 into New York City; since spread over northeastern states. Western and central Europe, New England and Middle Atlantic States.] To be fair, it must be admitted that there are a few exceptions; that is, that there are a few Hawks and Owls which do more harm than good. The Sharp-shinned Hawk kills many harmless songbirds and occasionally young game birds and young chickens. The Cooper's Hawk, which nests throughout the United States, is a real chicken hawk, and the worst one in the country. The Duck Hawk, the "Noble Peregrine" of falconry, in this country feeds largely upon domestic pigeons, but no bird student would wish to see it exterminated on account of this habit. There are a number of birds which are valuable friends to all the people because they are scavengers. The Herring Gull, which is the commonest gull of the harbors of the United States, and which is also found on inland lakes and rivers, by feeding upon all kinds of refuse animal and plant materials makes the waters about our cities more healthful. This is especially true of the coast cities which dump their garbage into the waters not far distant. The Turkey Vulture, the Black Vulture or Carrion-Crow, and the California Condor make the fields and woods of the country more healthful by devouring the carcasses of animals, and the first two species eat the offal from slaughter houses and even scraps of meat from the markets in some of our Southern cities. [Illustration: COMMON TERN A close relative of the gulls. Range: Northern Hemisphere, northern South America and Africa.] [Illustration: GREAT BLUE HERON Frequently miscalled Blue "Crane." The long legs indicate that this is a wading bird. Range: Western Hemisphere.] The most valuable group of birds from the standpoint of the farmers, the orchardists, and the gardeners is the insect-eating birds. Among these are the Wood Pewee, the Phoebe, the Kingbird, and all of the Flycatchers; the Purple Martin and all of the Swallows; the Nighthawk and Whip-poor-will. The Yellow-billed and Black-billed Cuckoos and the Baltimore Oriole feed largely upon tent caterpillars and others caterpillars which defoliate the fruit and shade trees. The Sparrow Hawk has been wrongly named, for it eats a thousand times as many grasshoppers as it does sparrows. The Chickadees, Brown Creepers, and many of the Warblers feed largely upon insects and insect eggs which they glean chiefly from the trees. The Rose-breasted Grosbeak and the Bob-White eat the Colorado potato-beetle. In the West the Franklin's Gull follows the farmer in the fields and picks up great numbers of destructive insects. In learning the value of our feathered friends it is necessary to learn to know the birds, and in this quest great help can be obtained from books. Beginners will find the following useful: "Land Birds East of the Rockies," by Chester A. Reed. "Water and Game Birds," by Chester A. Reed. "Western Bird Guide," by Chester A. Reed. (All published by Doubleday, Page & Co.) For more advanced students the following are recommended: "Handbook of Birds of Eastern North America," by Frank M. Chapman (D. Appleton & Co.). "Handbook of Birds of Eastern North America," by Florence Merriam Bailey (Houghton, Mifflin & Co.). Our study of birds should not stop with the name, because we shall find many things of interest in the home life of birds, many things that seem to reflect our own lives. (See "Home Life of Wild Birds," by F. H. Herrick. G. P. Putnam's Sons.) If we like to hear birds sing, if we enjoy the beauty of their coats, and if they are valuable neighbors from the standpoint of dollars and cents, then it is worth while to consider how we may have more of them about our homes. Every girl can do a great deal to attract birds. First, by putting up nesting boxes. Since the people of our country have destroyed so much of our native forests and undergrowth, have drained so many of our swamps, and have cultivated so much of the grassy prairie, many birds have difficulty in finding suitable places to nest. This can be remedied in the case of birds that nest in cavities, such as the House Wren, Tree Swallow, Purple Martin, Screech Owl, Chickadee, and Bluebird, by putting up nesting boxes. For those that nest in shrubbery, like the Catbird and the Brown Thrasher, shrubs and vines may be planted so that the desirable tangle may be had. [Illustration: A MOTHER MALLARD AND HER FAMILY The Wild Mallard is the original of many of the domesticated ducks. Range: Northern Hemisphere.] Second, by putting out bird baths. In this improved country of ours, there are doubtless large areas in which wild birds have difficulty in finding suitable places to bathe. Artificial bird baths are more attractive to birds in the summer time than during cold weather, but they will be used even in winter if kept free from ice. Do not place a bird bath so close to a shrub, tree, or building that a house cat may stalk the birds from behind it. The house cat is probably the worst enemy of our native songbirds. Third, by establishing feeding stations, especially in winter when snow covers the natural food of so many birds. When birds have enough to eat they rarely suffer severely from the cold. Fourth, by cooperating with the authorities in seeing that the laws protecting the birds are enforced. The Audubon Society has done much effective work along these lines, and a Girl Scout should join this society, whose headquarters are 1974 Broadway, New York City. Amphibians _All nature is so full that that district produces the greatest variety which is most examined._ --_Gilbert White, Natural History of Selborne._ The group of back-boned animals next above the fishes is the Amphibians, which includes the frogs, toads, salamanders,[7] and their relatives. The name "amphibian" refers to two modes of life as shown by most of the frogs and toads. A good example is the Common Toad, whose eggs are laid in the water. These eggs hatch out not into toads, but into tadpoles, which have no legs and which breathe by means of gills, as the fishes do. They grow rapidly, develop a pair of hind legs and then a pair of front legs, while the tail and gills are absorbed, all within a little more than a month from the time the eggs are laid. During this change a pair of lungs is developed, so that the toads breathe air as human beings do. The eggs of toads and frogs may be collected in the spring in ponds, and this remarkable change from the egg through the tadpole stage to the adult form may be observed in a simple home aquarium. Toads' eggs may be distinguished from those of frogs by the fact that toads' eggs are laid in strings, while frogs' eggs are laid in masses. [Illustration: TOAD A valuable animal in the garden because of the insects which it eats. Range: Eastern United States. Photograph by Herbert Lang.] Every Girl Scout should know the song of the toad. William Hamilton Gibson says it is "the sweetest sound in nature." (_Sharp Eyes_, p. 54.) If you do not know it, take a lantern or electric flash-lamp after dark some evening in the spring at egg-laying time, and go to the edge of some pond and see the toad sing. Notice how the throat is puffed out while the note is being produced. [Illustration: BULLFROG The largest of our frogs, remarkable for its sonorous bass notes. Range: Eastern United States westward to Kansas. Photograph by Herbert Lang.] The belief that warts are caused by handling toads has no foundation in fact. The toad is a valuable friend of the gardener, for it feeds upon a great variety of destructive insects. The life of our Salamanders is very similar to that of the frogs and toads. The eggs hatch out into tadpoles, then legs are developed, but the tail is not absorbed. Unlike the frogs and toads, the Salamander keeps its tail throughout life, and in some kinds of Salamanders which spend all of their time in the water, the gills are used throughout life. Salamanders have various common names, some being called newts, others water-dogs or mud-puppies. The mud-eel and the Congo "snake" of the Southern States, and the "hell-bender" of the Ohio valley and south are all Salamanders. The belief that any of the Salamanders is poisonous is a myth and has no basis in fact. [Illustration: SPRING PEEPER The note of this piping hyla is a welcome sound about the ponds and swamps in early spring. Range: Eastern United States. Photograph by Herbert Lang.] Reptiles Reptiles include Alligators, Crocodiles, Turtles, Lizards and Snakes. It is commonly said that reptiles are cold-blooded. This means that the temperature of their blood varies and is the same as the surrounding medium. The temperature of an Alligator that has been floating with its nose out of the water is the same as the surrounding water. The temperature of a turtle in the winter time is the same as the mud in which it is buried, while in the summer time it is much higher. What is true of the reptiles in respect to temperature is also true of Amphibians and Fishes. However, this is not true of Birds and Mammals, for these have a uniform temperature so high that they are called warm-blooded. [Illustration: GILA MONSTER So called from the Gila River in Arizona. The only member of the lizard family known to be venomous except the very similar crust-lizard found in Mexico. Range: Desert regions of southern Arizona and New Mexico.] In the United States there is but one species of Alligator and but one species of Crocodile, both limited to the Southeastern States. There are about fifty kinds of Turtle and Tortoises in North America, some of which live on the land and feed largely upon plants, _e. g._, the Common Box Turtle, found from the New England States to South Carolina and westward to Kansas, and the Gopher Tortoise of the Southern States. Others are aquatic, like the Painted Turtles, which are found in one form or another practically all over the United States. Many of these reptiles are highly prized as food, _e. g._, Diamond-backed Terrapin, Soft-shelled Turtle, Snapping Turtle and Gopher Tortoise. [Illustration: COMMON BOX TURTLE Range: Eastern United States] There are about one hundred species of Lizards in North America, the greatest number being found in the drier parts of the continent. Of this whole number only two species are poisonous, and only one of these, the Gila Monster, is found within the United States, being confined in its range to desert regions of Southern Arizona and New Mexico. The Blue-tailed Lizard or Skink, which occurs from Massachusetts to Florida and westward to Central Texas, is commonly believed to be poisonous in the Southern States, where it is called the Red-headed "Scorpion," but this is one of the popular myths still too common among intelligent people. The Glass "Snake" of the Central and Southern States is a peculiar lizard in that it has no legs. That it is able, after being broken to pieces, to collect itself together again and continue to live is another old myth. [Illustration: DIAMOND-BACKED TERRAPIN Range: Salt marshes of the Atlantic Coast and Gulf of Mexico from Massachusetts to Texas.] About a dozen kinds of Horned "Toads" are found in the western portions of the United States. Although toad-like in the shape of their bodies and in some of their habits, they are really lizards. The American Chameleon or "Green" Lizard, which ranges in this country in the coastal regions from North Carolina to the Rio Grande River, has a remarkable power of changing the color of its skin through shades of brown, gray, and green. In fact, it is said to rival or possibly excel the true chameleons of the Old World. For treatment of the Snakes see Woodcraft, Section XIII. FISHES _"It is not all of fishing to fish."_ [Illustration: PADDLE-FISH So-called from the paddle-like or spoon-shaped snout. Eggs used for caviar. Range: The Mississippi River and its tributaries.] The fishes are the lowest of the true vertebrates or animals with backbones, and all live in the water. They do not have lungs, but breathe through gills on the sides of the head. They are cold-blooded animals; i. e., the temperature of the blood is the same as that of the water in which they are living. Fishes are found in both fresh and salt water all over the world and have adapted themselves to many conditions; for example, certain fishes have lived in caves so long that they are blind; some live in the coldest water, while others can revel in the heat of the hot springs. [Illustration: COMMON CATFISH The barbels which suggest the whiskers of a cat are responsible for the name. This fish has no scales. Range: Eastern and Central United States.] Many fishes are valuable as food and the fisheries are extensive industries, in which large sums of money are invested. There are four great groups of fishes: 1. The sharks and rays, with cartilaginous skeletons. 2. The ganoids of which the sturgeon and garpike are examples, with heavy plates or scales. 3. The bony fishes--salmon, pickerel, mackerel, cod, halibut, etc. 4. The lung fishes, that live partly in air. [Illustration: SHOVEL-NOSED STURGEON This fish is covered with bony plates instead of scales. The roe is made into caviar. _Range_: Upper and middle Mississippi Valley.] There are many species of sharks. Among the more common ones in Atlantic waters are the Smooth Dogfish which have pavement-like teeth; the Sand Shark with catlike teeth; the Hammerhead Shark with its eyes on stalks. The near relatives of the sharks are the Skates. The most common example of the ganoid fish is the sturgeon, which is heavily clad with a bony armor. Most of the fishes that we find, however, belong to the third group, i. e., bony fishes. Among the salt-water species, the cod, the halibut, the mackerel, and the bluefish are especially valuable as food. Of the salt-water fishes that go up the rivers into fresh water to breed, the salmon and the shad are widely known. Of a strictly fresh-water fish, the sunfish and catfish are very common. Among the game-fish are the trout, bass, pickerel, and salmon. For those who live in cities, a convenient place to begin the study of fishes is in the fish-market. Here we may learn to know the common food-fishes by name, and to know many interesting things about them. If there is a Public Aquarium or a Natural History Museum in your city, you can use it in connection with the fish-market. Especially valuable in Museums are the habitat groups of fishes, that is, those in which the fishes are shown in their natural surroundings. But, best of all, the place to study fishes, as is true of all other animals, is out-of-doors in their native haunts. With your dip-net or hook and line, catch the fish, and then by the aid of one of the books listed below find out what its name is. Then, by observation of the fish see what is interesting in its life-history. Find out where the mother-fish lays her eggs. Does either parents guard them? Has the fish any natural weapons of defense? If so, what are they? Does either parent care for the young after they are hatched? What does the fish feed upon? In what way is the fish protectively colored? In the study of fishes, an interesting means is the home aquarium. Any Girl Scout can easily learn how to install and maintain a balanced aquarium, that is, one in which the water does not have to be changed and in fact should not be changed. In such an aquarium one may keep and study a great variety of fishes. Some of our local fishes, such as young catfish and suckers, will prove fully as interesting as the goldfish and many other animals besides fishes will thrive in a small aquarium, such as tadpoles of frogs, toads, and salamanders, adult water-newts, soft-shelled turtles, snails, and water-beetles and nymphs of dragon-flies. [Illustration: HAMMERHEAD SHARK The eyes are on the ends of blunt stalks, or extensions of the sides of the head, which suggest the name. Range: All warm seas, north to Cape Cod.] [Illustration: A GARDEN UNDER WATER Starfishes, Crabs and Sea-anemones] [Illustration: SQUID Member of same family as Octopus, and is related to the Oyster. Has ink bag for protection.] Animals Without Backbones In general the Invertebrates are animals without a backbone; that is, they do not have an internal supporting skeleton of bone, as does the dog or cat. Compared with mammals or birds, they are all small and some are so very tiny that they can be seen only with a very powerful microscope. Most of them live in the water or in the mud or sand under the water. Hence the best place to get acquainted with them is along the seashore or near some lake or stream. There are several different groups of Invertebrates and between these groups there are greater differences of structure than there is between a horse and a hummingbird. The principal groups are: 1. The Protozoa, or one-celled animals (nearly all microscopic). 2. The Sponges. 3. The Jellyfishes, Sea-anemones, and Corals. 4. Worms of several groups. 5. Starfishes, Sea-urchins, and Sea-cucumbers. 6. Segmented Worms. 7. Crabs, Lobsters, etc. 8. Oysters, Snails, and Octopi. 9. Insects and Spiders. [Illustration: SNAILS AND THEIR TRACKS ON THE BEACH --_Photograph by Mary C. Dickerson._] Seashore Life Because of their connection with our industries or our food supply, some of the Invertebrates are familiar to all; for instance, sponges, corals, starfishes, crabs, shrimps, lobsters, clams, and oysters. Others are seldom seen unless one takes pains to look for them. [Illustration: JELLY FISH] All life comes from pre-existing life. So every animal living to-day has come from some other living animal and every plant living to-day has come from some other previously living plant. It is believed that the first forms of life came from the water. At any rate, the oldest and lowest forms of life to-day, the Protozoa, are found in the water. As these are nearly all very minute and can be studied only with a microscope, they are omitted from the suggested field work. [Illustration: ANIMALS OF THE WHARF-PILES Habitat Group in the American Museum of Natural History] All who have access to the seashore have a wonderful opportunity to study the Invertebrates. The long stretches of sandy beach, the sections of shore covered with water-rolled pebbles and stones, even the steep, jagged cliffs, are all pebbled with these animals of the sea. Twice every twenty-four hours the sea water creeps slowly up the beach until high water is reached, and twice every twenty-four hours it recedes again toward the ocean. It is therefore about twelve hours from one low water to the next. On a gently sloping beach, the distances between the high water mark and the low water mark may be many hundreds of feet, while on a steep beach or a straight cliff this area may be only a few feet in width. It is this area between the high and low water marks that is the haunt of many Invertebrates. These are animals that can live if they are not continually covered with water. Here are the rock barnacles, the soft clams, crabs of many kinds, beach fleas, numerous sea worms in their special houses, snails, and hermit crabs. Others will be found in the pools between the rocks or in the crevices of the cliffs, which as the tide falls becomes great natural aquaria. Here will be found hydroids, sea-anemones, starfishes, sea-urchins, barnacles, mussels. In the shallow water, crabs and shrimps are crawling along the sandy bottom or are lying concealed in the mud, while schools of little fishes scoot across the pool. If a fine silk net is drawn through the water and then emptied into a glass dish a whole new world of creatures will be revealed--jellyfishes, ctenophores, hydroids, eggs of fish, tiny copepods, the larvae or young of sea-urchins, starfishes, or oysters. If an old wharf is near by, examine the posts supporting it. The pilings seem to be coated with a shaggy mass of seaweed. Scrape some of this off and put in a dish of water. Sea-spiders, starfishes, hydroids that look like moss, sea-anemones, many varieties of worms, mussels and crabs are all living here. [Illustration: UNDER THE SEA BED Marine Worms, Whelk, Pecten or Scallop and Periwinkle] Begin your study of these seashore animals with a stroll along the beach. Examine the windrows of seawrack or seaweed. Whole troops of sandhoppers rise ahead of you. Oftentimes animals from distant shores or deep water will be found. The empty shells have many a story to tell. The papery egg-cases of the periwinkle remind one of a beautiful necklace. The air bubbles rising from the sand or mud as the wave recedes mark the entrance to the burrows of worms. Stamp hard on the sand. A little fountain of water announces the abode of the soft clam. Watch the sand at the edges of the rippling water. The mole-crab may be seen scuttling to cover. In the little hollows between rocks a rock-crab or a green-crab may be found on guard. [Illustration: WHELK (FULGUR CANALICULATA) AND EGG-CASES Common Mollusk Found on Sandy Shores Along the Atlantic Coast of the United States.] For collecting in the pools and shallow water a fine-meshed net is desirable. Many of the animals can be caught and placed in glass dishes of sea water for close observation. [Illustration: Group showing a starfish attacking an oyster; soft shelled clams; hermit crabs; fiddler crabs, etc.] _A few animals that may be found at the seashore:_ _Rocky Shores_--Hydroids on the rock-weed, rock-barnacles, snails, amphipods, lobsters, and oysters. _Sandy Shores_--Worms, in tube houses, mole-crab, sand-hopper, egg-cases, whelks, shrimps. _Muddy Shores_--Snails, clams, worms of many varieties, mud-crabs, hermit-crabs, blue crabs, scallops. _Wharves and Bridges_ (on the piling)--Sponges, hydroids, sea-anemones, ascidians, starfishes, sea-urchins, worms. On the shores of lakes, ponds, and streams will also be found many invertebrates. [Illustration: HUMMINGBIRD MOTH Range: Eastern North America. The larvae or caterpillars of this moth feed upon virburnum, snowberry and hawthorn.] [Illustration: SEVENTEEN-YEAR CICADA OR SEVENTEEN-YEAR "LOCUST" Range: Eastern United States. Pupae emerging from the ground. Detail from Group in the American Museum of Natural History.] Insects play an important part in Nature's activities. From the point of view of man some are beneficial and some are destructive. In the former group may be mentioned the Dragonflies which feed upon mosquitoes, the Cochineal insects of Mexico, which furnish a dye-stuff, the Lady-bird beetles, which in the larval stage feed upon plant lice; the scale insects of India, which furnish shellac; the Bumblebees, which cross-pollinate the clover, and the Wasps, which fertilize the figs. Dr. Lutz says that the manna which fed the Children of Israel was honeydew secreted by a scale insect, and that it is still eaten. [Illustration: SEVENTEEN-YEAR CICADA OR SEVENTEEN-YEAR "LOCUST" Range: Eastern United States. The pupa climbing tree trunk. Then it bursts its horny outer skin and crawls out an adult.] The Silkworm and the Honey-bee have been domesticated since prehistoric times, the former supplying a valuable fiber for clothing and the latter an important article of food. Among the injurious insects a few may be mentioned: the House Fly or Filth Fly, which may carry disease germs on its feet to the food that we eat; the mosquitoes, which transmit yellow fever and malaria, the rat flea, which carries bubonic plague; the weevils, which destroy rice, beans, chestnuts, etc., and the plant lice, or aphids, which, by sucking the juices from ornamental and food plants, are among the most destructive of all insects. There are so many insects in the world that we cannot hope to learn of them all, even if we wanted to do so, but most of us wish to know the names of those that attract our attention, and to know what they do that is important or interesting. There are approximately 400,000 species or kinds of insects known in the world; that is, about three times as many as there are species or kinds of all the rest of the animals in the world put together. This fact should not hinder us from making a start and becoming familiar with the interesting habits of a few of the insects about us. The eggs of the Monarch Butterfly may be collected upon the milkweed and brought in, so that the whole life history or metamorphosis of this beautiful insect, from the egg through the larva or caterpillar stage and the pupa or chrysalis stage to the adult butterfly, may be watched. The larvae or caterpillar must be supplied daily with fresh milkweed leaves. Other butterflies and moths and many other insects may be reared in the same way by supplying the larvae with suitable food. If we should find a caterpillar feeding upon the leaves of a maple tree we should continue to feed it maple leaves if we wish to rear it. Silkworms will eat the leaves of Osage-orange, but they seem to prefer mulberry leaves. Cocoons of moths may be easily collected in winter after the leaves have fallen, and brought in and kept in a cool place until spring when the coming out of the adult moths will be an occurrence of absorbing interest. [Illustration: "A GATHERING OF MONARCHS" Monarch Butterflies resting during migration. The Monarch ranges all over North and South America and it migrates like the birds. Photograph of group in American Museum of Natural History.] The spiders, although not insects, are interesting little animals. See how many types of webs you can find. Mention a few insects which you know to be preyed upon by spiders. Mention one insect that catches spiders and stores them away as food for its young. [Illustration: TRACKS OF THE GLACIER North America at the time of the maximum stage of the Great Ice Age, showing area covered by ice. (After Chamberlin and Salisbury). Photograph used by courtesy of Henry Holt & Co.] [Illustration: THE KING OF THE NORTHLANDS] GEOLOGY _Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything._ --_Shakespeare, As You Like It._ The Structure and History of the Earth There is nothing eternal about the earth except eternal change, some one has said. It requires only a little looking about us to see that this is true. The earth is not as it was in the past. Every shower of rain changes or modifies its surface. And many other and some very great changes have occurred during the past few millions of years. During one age, the coal was formed of plants that grew luxuriantly on the earth's surface. At one period in the development of the earth there were many kinds of invertebrate animals, but no animals with backbones. Later, the vertebrates appeared. At one time the whole Mississippi Valley was under the water of the sea. ("The Story of Our Continent," by N. S. Shaler. Ginn & Co.). These statements suggest just a few of the things that have been going on in the history of the earth. By the study of Geology we can learn much more about it, and we should supplement our study of books with the more important actual observation of conditions out-of-doors. To those living in that part of North America, which is shaded in the map on page 451, the easiest and most natural approach to the subject of the structure and history of the earth is by studying the effects of the continental glacier which formerly moved down over this region. Tracks of the Glacier When we see the foot-prints of an animal in the mud or in the snow, we are sure that an animal has passed that way at some previous time. Those who live in Canada or northern United States (See map page 451) can be just as sure that a great glacier or ice-sheet formerly moved down over northern North America, by the tracks it has left. Although it is estimated by geologists that between 10,000 and 40,000 years have elapsed since the Great Ice Age, these tracks or evidences can still be seen by any one who lives in this region or who can visit it. The principal ones are: (1) Boulders or Lost Rocks which were brought down by this glacier; (2) The Glacial Drift or Boulder Clay which covers nearly all of the glaciated region; (3) Scratches on the bed-rock which show the direction the glacier moved. Notice in the field the size and shape of the glacial boulders, where they are found, evidence of the place where the glacier melted off (terminal moraine). Do these boulders increase or decrease in size as we go south over the glaciated area? Can you discover any place where they can be traced back in their native ledge? Present-day glaciers, like the Muir Glacier in Alaska, can be seen transporting boulders and drift just as this great prehistoric ice-sheet must have done. The drift which consists of clay mixed with pebbles, cobblestones, and boulders, varies greatly in depth. In some places there is none, while at St. Paris, Ohio, it is 550 feet deep. It probably averages 100 feet thick or less. In your locality note the depth of the drifts in cuts made naturally by creeks and rivers or those made artificially for railroads. Oil-wells furnish evidence on this point. Collect a few good examples of scratched or glaciated pebbles or cobblestones which are abundant in the drift. These were scratched while frozen in the bottom of the glacier and pushed along on the bed-rock under the weight of the ice above. Collect ten different kinds of rock from the glacial boulders and drift,--there are more than one hundred kinds to be found,--and with the aid of some such book as "Rocks and Rock Minerals," by Louis V. Pirsson (John Wiley & Sons) or "Common Minerals and Rocks," by Wm. O. Crosby (D. C. Heath & Co.) try to identify them. All soil is composed of disintegrated or decayed rock. And it has been observed that the soil of northern North America is foreign to the bed-rock. Therefore it must have been transported from some other place. The glacier did this huge piece of work. The soil of southern United States contains no boulders or cobblestones and has been formed by the disintegration and decay of rocks in place. Observe glacial scratches and grooves on the bed-rock, those on Kelley's Island in Lake Erie are famous. Agassiz was the first to realize that it was a glacier that did this stupendous piece of work, and this conception or discovery greatly added to his fame. It is now easy for us to find the evidences and to enjoy their interpretation. In fact, the Greenland ice-sheet is a remnant of this prehistoric continental glacier. FOOTNOTES: [6] Muskrat fur is now also sold under its true name. [7] Unfortunately in the Southern States there is an entirely different animal commonly called a "Salamander" which is in reality a pocket-gopher of the group of mammals. SECTION XVI GIRL SCOUT'S OWN GARDEN BY DAVID M. HUNTER _A Garden is a lovesome thing, God wot! Rose plot Fringed pool, Fern'd grot-- The veriest school Of peace; and yet the fool Contends that God is not-- Not God! in gardens! when the eve is cool? Nay, but I have a sign; 'Tis very sure God walks in mine._ --_Thomas Edward Brown._ A very old story tells us that when man was created he was put by the Creator into a garden to dress it and to keep it. He could not have been put into a better place nor could a more honorable and necessary occupation have been given to him. No doubt the woman who lived in the garden with him aided him in this work. Not having a house to care for or dressmaking and sewing to do, or cooking to take her attention, there was nothing to prevent her from helping in the dressing and keeping of the lovely garden. At any rate, that is what Milton thought, for he makes Adam speak to Eve of "our delightful task to prune these growing plants and tend these flowers." Two persons would not need a very large garden, and I will commend this early example to the beginner in gardening and urge a very small garden to start with. For it is well to undertake only what can be easily handled or what can be done thoroughly. There is joy in the contemplation of a perfect work, even though it be on a small scale, that never comes from a more ambitious undertaking imperfectly carried out. Better six square feet of well tilled, weedless, thrifty garden than an acre poorly cultivated and full of weeds. A Girl Scout who proposes to make a garden will naturally ask herself certain questions. If she has the ground, if she knows already where her garden is to be placed, the next thing, perhaps, that she will wish to know is, what tools will be needed. Then follows the way to treat the soil in order to prepare it for planting the seeds. After that comes the question of seeds and the way to plant them. Then the cultivation of the crops until they are ready to be gathered. Here, then, we have material for short sections on (1) tools, (2) preparation of the soil, (3) selection of seeds, (4) planting, and (5) cultivation. (1) Tools Not many tools will be needed, but some seem to be indispensable. I would suggest: 1. A spading fork. Some like a long-handled fork, others prefer a short-handled one. 2. A hoe. 3. A garden or iron-toothed rake. 4. A hand weeder of some kind. 5. A shovel. In addition to these tools every gardener will find it necessary to have a line for making straight rows. This should be at least the length of the longest dimension of the garden and white that it may be easily seen. There should be two pegs to stick it in with. I should add a board about ten inches wide with straight edges and as long as the bed is wide, and a pointed stick. (2) The Preparation of the Seed Bed The first thing to do, after having determined the location of your garden, is to measure your bed. If you have a single bed, one twelve feet long by six feet wide is enough to start with. I should prefer, however, to have two beds, each three feet wide by twelve feet long with a narrow path between, say, twelve inches. The reason for thus laying out the ground in two beds is that it will be easier to reach the whole bed from either side without stepping or kneeling on the cultivated soil. All cultivation can be done from the paths. _The soil_ for flower beds needs most careful preparation. The bed should be dug out to a depth of two feet, and if the soil is clay, two feet six inches. In the latter case, put broken stones, cinders or gravel on the bottom for drainage. The soil should be a mixture of one-half good sandy loam, one-fourth leaf mould or muck that has been left out all winter. Mix these thoroughly together before filling the beds, sprinkle wood ashes over the beds and rake them in before planting. This is to sweeten the soil. Lime may be used for the same purpose, but in either case get advice as to the amount needed for the soil in question. _Manure._ Next in order will come the enriching of this plot of ground by spreading upon it a good coating of well rotted cow manure. In case barnyard manure is not available, a good mixture of commercial fertilizer consists of four parts ground bone to one of muriate of potash applied at the rate of four pounds to the square rod. This done, proceed to fork the whole piece over, thrusting the spading fork into the ground its full length each time, and turning the forkful of earth so that the manure will be covered and not lie on top of the ground. When the spading has been done, then use your rake and spare it not. Rake until the earth in the beds is finely pulverized and until the whole bed is as level as you can make it. Now construct your central or dividing path, throwing the soil moved on the beds on either side. To do this you will need a shovel. Next define or limit your beds, making the sides and ends as straight as possible. You ought now to have two rectangular beds, each three feet by twelve feet, with a narrow path separating them all ready to put in the seeds. It would be a good thing to have your beds raised a little, two or three inches above the general level of the surrounding earth. This will make them more distinct and will obviate the settling of water on your beds; in other words, will drain them. Seeds The principal counsel to be given here is to use great care in the selection of seeds because it is a bitter disappointment and a discouraging experience to find that after all your labor your seeds are worthless. It would be well to test a sample of your seeds to determine their germinating power. If you have a reliable friend from whom you can secure your seeds, you are fortunate, but if you must purchase at the dealer by all means patronize one of established reputation. For the first garden I should plant lettuce, radishes, beets and beans in one of the beds. The other bed may be devoted to flowers. Planting Your beds are now supposed to be all ready for the seeds. That is to say, they are shaped and graded and raked fine. The next thing to do is to lay your board across the bed, with one edge six inches from the edge of the bed. Then stand on the board and with a pointed stick make a shallow furrow on each side of the board close to the board. Here I should put the lettuce. It is desirable to have the seeds evenly and not too thickly distributed in the shallow furrows. One way of accomplishing this is by mixing your seeds with some very fine wood ashes in a bowl and spreading the mixed ashes and seeds along the furrows. A better way, I think, in the case of a small quantity of seeds would be to place each seed at a proper distance from the others. This distance will vary according to the size of the full grown heads of lettuce. The smaller varieties might stand six inches apart, while the largest ones would need to be twice that distance or more. Having planted your lettuce seeds, turn your board over carefully twice. That will bring it into position for two more rows of vegetables. Stand on the board again and proceed as before, making two shallow furrows with a pointed stick. Here I should put the radish seeds. These may be sown more thickly, for the reason that as soon as the radishes become large enough to eat they may be pulled out, leaving room for the rest of the radishes to develop. Having planted your radish seeds, repeat the preceding operations, making two furrows again, this time for beet seeds. These may also be sown thickly. The plants may be thinned out afterward. The small plants that are pulled out will make excellent greens. When the thinning is completed the remaining plants should stand from four to six inches apart, according to variety; some beets are much larger than others. The rest of the bed devote to string or butter beans. You will have left for these a space of eighty-eight inches, or a little more than seven feet. The rows of beans must be farther apart than the other vegetables you have planted. Two feet between the rows is not too much. You will have space enough for three rows. Measure from your last row of beets one foot six inches at each side of your bed. Now stretch your line across your bed at this distance from the beets, then with a hoe make a furrow close to the line. This furrow should be two inches deep at least. Much deeper, you see, than the shallow furrows for the smaller seeds. Having made this furrow, measure two feet from it on each side of the bed and place your line at this point and make a furrow as before. Repeat the process for a third furrow. You should now have left a space of eighteen inches between your last furrow and the end of the bed. Into these three furrows place the beans, spacing them. Your seeds are now all in. At this juncture take your rake and cover the seeds, leaving the whole bed level and smooth. There is nothing more to be done just at present except to leave these seeds to the forces of nature, to the darkness and the moisture and the warmth of their earthy bed. They are put to bed not that they may sleep, but in order to wake them up. Soon the delicate shoots will begin to appear above the ground, and with them will also appear the shoots of many weeds whose seeds were in the soil. These weeds constitute a call to your next operation which is Cultivation Declare war on the weeds. Use your hand weeder between the rows of smaller vegetables and let not a weed escape. If they are in the rows so near to the seedlings that you cannot use the weeder without danger to the delicate little plants that you are attending, then employ your fingers. For a time you may use the hoe or rake between the rows of beans, but even here near the paths themselves the weeder or hands should be preferred. There is one caution that old gardeners give which is not to work among beans when they are wet with dew or rain for fear of "rust." Wait till the sun has dried the foliage. * * * * * Frequent and thorough cultivation not only destroys the weeds, thus giving your vegetables a better chance and giving your garden a tidy, well-kept appearance, but it keeps the soil loose and forms a sort of mulch whereby the moisture is conserved. The dryer the season the greater the need of cultivation. * * * * * It may seem to you that you are obliged to wait long and spend a good deal of labor without results, but when you have for the breakfast table some cool, crisp radishes and for dinner a head of fresh lettuce, and later a dish of sweet, luscious beets or mess of string beans, you will feel well repaid. Let us now turn our attention to the other bed, in which you are to grow flowers. This may be treated as a sort of background for the vegetable bed. To do this let the rows of plants run the other way. That is to say, lengthwise of the bed instead of across. It is assumed that the ground has been treated as in the case of the vegetable bed. When you have accomplished this work of preparation set your line six inches from the side of the bed nearest your vegetables, or the patch between the two beds. Make a shallow furrow the full length of the bed with your pointed stick. In this furrow sow your flower seeds of some low-growing plant such as _sweet alyssum_. Then move your line back toward the other side of the bed one foot. Here you should place some taller plants, such as _asters_. The aster plants should have been raised in the house, or purchased from some grower. Again move your line one foot nearer the rear margin of your bed and in this row plant your tallest plants. _Dahlias_ or _cosmos_ would be very effective. You must get the roots for the dahlias somewhere. Cosmos is planted from seeds. In planting the dahlias it would be well to dig a hole for each plant so deep that when the root is set it will be two or three inches below the surface of the ground. Good results will be obtained if before putting in the roots you put a handful or two of good manure in the hole and sprinkle a little soil over it. I have mentioned these particular plants simply as specimens. Other choices may be made and a suggested list is given at the end of this section. But whatever the selection, two things should be kept in mind. First, that the rows should contain plants that vary in height, the lowest being placed in the front row, the tallest at the back; and second, that plants should be chosen that will be in bloom at the same time, for at least a part of the season. If your work has been well done you ought to have a small bed of vegetables, thrifty, in straight rows, well cultivated, clean, and back of that, looking from the side, another bed of flowering plants that should be a delight to the eye, especially the eye of the possessor and maker. Of course, the beds will not present this perfect appearance for a long time because as the vegetables are used the beds will show where the vegetables have been removed. It should be mentioned, however, that it is possible to have more than one planting of radishes in a season; also of lettuce, and these may be replaced after the first planting has been used. There are many satisfactions in gardening. The intimacy with nature furnishes one of them. To be with growing things through all the stages of their growth, in all weathers and all hours of the day gives a quiet pleasure that is a healing and soothing influence. To produce something so valuable, so necessary as food by one's own exertion and care confers true dignity upon one and a sense of worth. To eat what one has raised oneself adds a flavor to it. From the garden as a center path, lead out in every direction, paths for thought and study. My wish for every Girl Scout who undertakes a garden is that she may have all these satisfactions, and may follow all these delightful paths that lead to knowledge, and through knowledge to joy. Suggested Flowers for Border _Biennials_ such as Canterbury Bells, Foxgloves and Sweet William should be seeded early in the spring in a reserve bed to be ready for the season's bloom. In order to secure a succession of bloom they should be taken out after flowering and replaced with annuals. _Annuals_--Of these some of the most satisfactory are Asters, Calendula, Lupin, Petunias, Rosy Morn, Snapdragon, Stock and Rose Zinnias. Take out any plants that are not the right colors. Brown earth is better than purple annual Larkspur, magenta Petunias, orange Calendulas or red Zinnias. Keep the color scheme ranging from true blues through rose and salmon pinks, lavenders and deep blue purples and white yellows. If you want brilliant reds or magentas have them in a bed apart. _Bulbs_--Tulips, such as Murillo, or _early varieties_ (La Reine, Pink Beauty, President Lincoln, Proserpine, Queen of the Netherlands and Rose Luisante), or _late varieties_ (La Merveille, La Reve, Moonlight, The Fawn) and Mertensiav Virginica can be along the borders. Darwin Tulips, such as Clara Butt, Dream, Gretchen, La Tristesse, La Tulipe Noire, Mrs. Potter Palmer, Philippe de Commines, Psyche, Rev. Ewbank, Suzon, should be planted in more shaded places. [Illustration: Plan for a border of Perennials] SECTION XVII MEASUREMENTS, MAP MAKING AND KNOTS 1. MEASUREMENTS Every country has national standards of measures and weights which are made and kept by the governments as patterns, for measuring and comparing the instruments made for business purposes. The units of measure have been fixed by law, for it is most important that people and countries in dealing with each other shall know exactly what is meant by such words as yard, foot, pint and pound. The unit of length used in this country is the yard. It is divided into three feet and each foot into twelve inches. The foot refers to the length of a man's foot. It is said that the length of the yard was based upon the length of the arm of an English king, but that sounds like a fairy tale. Many of our units of distance and weight have been borrowed from the English and are more complicated than those used by the French, whose unit of length is the meter. In 1799, or thereabouts, an international convention met at Paris to decide what the exact length of a meter should be, for several countries at that time were using what was known as the Metric System of Weights and Measures. It was finally agreed that the length of a meter should be equal to one ten-millionth of the distance on the earth's surface, from the pole to the equator, or 39.37 inches. At the same convention a unit of weight was determined. Because water is so important and familiar it was chosen as the basis for this unit. A cube of water at 40 centigrade, and measuring on each edge 1/100 of a meter was taken and called a gram, which is about equal to 15 of our grains. All peoples find it necessary in the house, out in the open and in nearly all forms of occupation to measure and weigh in order to accomplish their work. It is part of a Scout's preparedness to know how to measure and weigh and how to judge measurements and numbers without using measures and weights. There are rules for determining length and weight, and it is important to understand them. Measuring a distance means to find out the length of the straight line from one point to another. To get a straight line in the open when walking fix the eyes upon two objects directly in front, one nearer and smaller than the other. With eyes high walk toward these objects keeping them always in line. When approaching the first one choose another to take its place in line with it and the second. Always have two objects in direct line with the eyes. This method can be used in marching, rowing, swimming, and when staking out the points of triangles for measuring distance and height, as it will give the shortest distance between two points. There are three general methods of measuring distance accurately. (1) chaining or taping; (2) telemetry, and (3) triangulation. Less accurate means of measuring are by sound, pacing and timing. (1) Chaining and Taping. The regulation chain or tape used by surveyors is 100 feet long. A Scout may use a shorter line but must follow the same rules. Three things must be kept in mind when using a line. a. The straight distance between two points is to be obtained. b. The point where the end of the line comes each time must be marked. c. The line must be stretched tight. This method can be used in measuring off the distance for pacing to obtain the average length of one's pace, as suggested in a later paragraph under Useful Personal Measurements. (2) Telemetry. The second method is used in determining long distances for artillery practice and in surveying. It is called telemetry and the use of an instrument is necessary. (3) Triangulation. This is a long word but one a Scout can learn to know and use. It means that the length of the distance can be computed by means of triangles staked out on the ground, when to measure with a line would be impossible or not satisfactory. It is not necessary to make the sides of the triangles, only the points need to be indicated as it is the relative position of the points which make a triangle and not the lines. These can be marked in the country with poles, stakes or stones; in the city Scouts could stand in position at the necessary points. When using triangles where shall a Scout place the points? If the width of a stream, road or field is wanted choose a place where its sides are on about the same level and if possible fairly straight. Then proceed as shown in the accompanying diagram A. Select a conspicuous object on the farther bank of the stream, such as a tree, bush or stone and call it X. Stand opposite it at the near edge of the stream or on the bank, and place a stake A in front of you keeping X and A in direct line, walk backward a few feet and plant a stake B in direct line with them. Right or left face--(for a right angle is necessary at this point). Pace a straight line for say 20 feet and plant a stake C, one high enough to be plainly seen; continue the straight line for say 10 feet more and plant a stake D. Turn inland, (another right angle is here necessary) and pace to the point where the object X on the far side of the stream can be seen in direct line with the stake C. At this point place stake E. Measure the distance from E to D. With paper and pencil mark down the example--for such it is--in this way: DC : CB :: DE : BX or as the length from D to C is to the length of C to B so is the length from D to E to the length from B to X or as in this example, as 10 is to 20 so 8 is to the distance from B to X, which would be 16. Having discovered the distance between A and B in the case given, to be 4 feet, take this from the distance between B and X and the result will give the width of the stream, which is 12 feet. [Illustration: Diagram A. To Measure Width of Stream or Road] It may not be always necessary to use the line A--B but if the edge of the stream or road is crooked it is necessary in order to make B--D a straight line at right angles to A--X. In calculating a height, as that of a tree, house or tower, the triangles can again be used, as shown in diagram B. Choose a level strip of ground; pace the distance in a straight line, from the base of the tree A, or tower, to a point some distance from the tree, and plant a pole or stake say 5 feet high B; continue pacing the straight line to the point where, lying down with eyes level with the tree base, the top of the tree can be seen on a line with the top of the pole; plant here stake C. The height of the tree AA' will be to the length of the distance from C to A as the height of the pole, BB' is to the distance between B and C. A Scout can stand in the place of the stake B. [Illustration: Diagram B. To Measure Height of Tree, Etc.] [Illustration: Diagram C. To Measure Height with a Mirror] There are other ways of determining height. As shown in the diagram C, place a mirror (M) horizontally on the ground reflector side up, some distance from the base of the object to be measured, in this case a tent. Walk backward from the mirror in a straight line until the top of the tent pole can be seen in it. The problem will read in this way: the distance from the mirror to your heels (MS) is to the distance from your heels to your eyes (GS) as the distance from the mirror to the base of the object (MT) is to the height of the object (TT'). Water in a dark pan or tray or a pool on a still day will answer for a mirror. [Illustration: Diagram D. To Test a Right Angle] A right angle can be tested by measuring off 3 feet on one side of the corner and 4 feet on the other side, as shown in diagram d. If the distance between the two points is 5 feet the angle is true; if not 5 feet move one point as much as is necessary to make 5 feet. South American natives estimate height fairly correctly by turning the back to the object, walking straight away from it to the point where the top of the object can be seen by bending over and looking between the legs. Plant a peg at this point and the distance from the peg to the base of the object is roughly equal to the height. Sound travels at the rate of 365 yards every second, as many yards as there are days in the year. By counting the seconds between seeing the flash from a gun, or the steam puff from a locomotive and hearing the sound of the explosion or whistle it is possible to figure the length of the distance between yourself and the gun or locomotive. It is said that the number of seconds between a flash of lightning and the thunder will give the distance between you and the place where the lightning struck. We use weighing machines or scales in buying food, so that we may compare the actual amount of food we buy with a standard weight, otherwise there would be much confusion and business could not be carried on between peoples. For this reason we use pint, quart, peck and bushel measures, all of which are regulated by law as to the amount they hold. There are some people who have a true feeling or sense for weight and can tell almost to an ounce the weight of a parcel by lifting it. Others have a good memory and can tell the weight of a quantity by looking at it. Others know distance and can estimate it correctly without use of rule or measure, and likewise judge numbers. Very few people have this ability naturally, but many have acquired it by practice and patience and a Scout can do so: she will find many times that this particular form of knowledge whether in or out of doors is of benefit. How often a housekeeper wishes she could tell about how much material to buy for this or that purpose without getting the yard stick and measuring. The seamstress and dressmaker must judge length and width and even height, and the cook constantly has need of a sense of quantity and size. The photographer, the pioneer, the camper, all must know measurements. This matter of judging is something we are called upon to do much more than we have realized. The point is how can we learn the trick? We should start with something we know and compare to it something whose size we do not know. This is where knowing your personal measurement will be of value. Always prove when practicing your idea, otherwise you will not improve your ability. That is, make your estimate, then see how near right it is by measuring. Learn to know how an inch, a foot, a yard look. Then work with longer lengths out of doors with several feet, and several yards. Fences, roads, streets, dooryards, houses, all can be judged as to length. Height is less easy to estimate for we are not so accustomed to looking up and down as we are to looking forward or back and forth, but the same rules hold good. Learn to know the height of a chair seat, a table, your own height, a room, a house, trees: by measuring and looking, and looking and measuring, you will accomplish much. To learn to judge weight begin by holding in your hand something that weighs a pound; after holding it a few moments put it down and then take it up again always trying to sense the weight. Do not use your eyes, only your hand. Try a two pound weight and so on. Then take up something else the weight of which you do not know and see if you can tell its weight. Practice, patience and memory are necessary in this work. There is another way of judging weight, one in which our eyes help us. Knowing how a pound of butter looks as to size we can judge the weight of a mass of butter by looking at it and comparing it mentally with what we know. We can follow this method in judging the weight of different goods, but as each kind when put in pound quantities looks more or less different from every other kind, experience and knowledge of the character of the goods is necessary. A pound of butter and a pound of feathers do not make the same size bundle so the weight of each could not be judged by the same eye standard. By practice a Girl Scout should be able to do the following things in the way of judging height, weight and distance: (1) Be able to judge within 25 per cent the following: Height of a tree, house, pole, etc., not exceeding 50 feet. Material, 1, 3, 15, 18, 27, 30, 36, 42 and 56 inches. Diameter of the trunk of a tree, a pole, water pipe or similar object. Distance of 6, 10, 15, 25 and 100 feet. (This is useful in camera work.) (2) Pick out from a miscellaneous assortment bottles of 2, 4, 6 and 8 ounces. Bottles of 1 pint, 1 quart, 1 gallon. Pails, 1 pint, 1 quart, 2 quarts, 1 gallon. (3) Be able without scales to weigh out specified amounts of sugar, flour or other household materials, for example, 1, 5 or 10 pounds. (4) Be able to pick out from an assortment, packages of rice, tea, cornmeal, etc., weighing 1/2, 1, 2, 5 and 10 pounds. (5) Be able to give in the usual measures, either avoirdupois or metric, capacity of the standard teaspoon, tablespoon, teacup. (6) Be able to tell when you have walked a mile in open country. This may be done by using Scout's Pace for 12 minutes, on a fifty walk, fifty run rhythm, or by knowing one's own walking step length. (7) Be able to judge of spaces between distant objects such as the distance between two trees, the width of a road, or a brook, by the triangulation method. USEFUL PERSONAL MEASURES It is sometimes a great convenience to measure a length of ribbon, lace or other goods without the use of a rule or tape measure; but what shall we use in their place? Look at your thumb--how long is it from the end to the first joint? And the middle finger, from the end to the knuckle on the back of the hand? Isn't it nearly four and one-half inches or one-eighth of a yard? That is what the average grown person's finger measures. To get the correct length of your finger, hold the end of a tape line to the end of the finger with the thumb of the same hand, draw the tape measure tight over the bent finger to the knuckle. This is a very useful measure for short lengths. Another measure for longer lengths is the distance from the end of your nose, when your head is turned sharply to one side, to the end of your thumb when your arm is stretched straight out from the shoulder in the opposite direction. Measure and find out this distance for yourself by holding the very end of a ribbon, tape or rope with the left hand to the end of the nose, head turned to the left, and with the right hand run the fingers along the edge of the ribbon until it is stretched to arm's length. Marking the ribbon with a pin where the right thumb and forefinger have held it, measure the distance with a yard measure or rule from the end of the ribbon to the pin. This length will be about the same as the standard unit of length used in this country. When measuring a long length of goods, use the point held by the right hand as the starting point to be held by left hand. If you know the distance between the end of your little finger and the end of your thumb when they are stretched apart, the palm of the hand being flat, you can measure a distance such as the length of a table, shelf, pole, etc. When judging the height of a person, remember that the distance from the top of the head to the chin is about one-ninth of the height of the body. The distance between the middle fingers when the arms are stretched straight out from the shoulders is about equal to the height of the body. Another personal measure that is of value is the length of one's average pace or stride; that is, the distance from the toe of one boot to the toe of the other when walking a natural gait. It is also useful to know the average number of paces taken in walking a given distance, such as a mile, and the time required to make them. All of this information can be obtained in a very simple way. Measure off as accurately as possible 220 yards, which is one-eighth of a mile, or take a known distance, and pace it back and forth at least eight times, but not all in one day. Each time keep a record of the number of paces taken and the time required to pace the distance. Divide the sum of the paces by the number of times paced and the result will be the average number of paces for the distance. Then divide the whole distance by the average number of paces and get the average length of your pace. Divide the sum of the minutes spent in pacing the distance by the number of times paced, and get the average length of time required to walk the distance. When the average length of pace is known, the distance between two points can be quite accurately estimated by pacing, if the ground is open, level and solid. If up or down grade, if the ground is muddy or heavy, or there are other causes which retard the gait, a reduction must be made. None of the above methods for measuring are scientific, therefore are not accurate, but they are useful ways of measuring _approximately_ lengths and distances by means of a guide always at hand. 2. MAP MAKING FOR GIRL SCOUTS The word map calls to our mind a picture of lines, angles, dots and circles which tell us something about a position of the surface of the earth. It gives us an idea of distance and direction, indicates heights and sometimes tells of interesting land conditions. What we see are but symbols representing a more or less true picture. This method of telling a story is very old; as long ago as 1370 B. C. it was used to show the location of the then famous Nubian Gold Mines. This ancient map is now preserved in the Museum of Turin. Later, in 611 B. C. the first map of the world was made--the world as men knew it then. They thought it was like a hollow cylinder and surrounded by a river. By 276 B. C. maps were used and understood quite generally. They were named originally after the material upon which they were painted or drawn. Map from Mappa, meaning cloth, and chart from charta, meaning parchment. Even today maps are made on cloth when for use in the open by cyclists, military men, and so forth, and charts are those maps filling the needs of seamen. Savage tribes used maps made of horn, bone and wood. In the 15th century the first printed maps were made and now many processes are used in reproducing these valuable and necessary graphic pictures, every line and dot of which have been made out of someone's experience. The explorer, the pioneer, the navigator, all contributing to the store of knowledge of the earth's surface, and many times having thrilling adventures, surviving terrible conditions that the earth may be known as it really appears. Although maps are made to scale and every distance computed most accurately by the use of very fine instruments, Scouts can accomplish the real purpose of maps in a small and simple way, for they are after all, but guides to those who follow. Knowing a delightful road or trail, one can by a map guide others to it, or by making a map of a city, or country district helps a stranger to find his way about. Our maps must contain as the all important features: Direction, Distance, Points of Identification, and the explanation on the margin of the map of all symbols or conventional signs used. For hiking purposes a starting-point and a goal are necessary, all cross-roads must be indicated--streams, bridges, trails, springs, points of interest, vantage points for extended views, and so forth. A city map should note beside streets, the car lines or bus lines, public buildings, library, churches, hotels, stores, police station, public telephone booths, a doctor's office, fire alarm box and post box. A village map should show in addition the way to the nearest large town or city, give the railroad station, and so forth. Direction is shown by symbol, an arrow or a line with an N pointing to the North, which should be at the top of the map, and all lines and signs should be made in relation to it. Distance is shown by what is known as scale. It would be impossible and unnecessary in making a map to use the exact measurements of distances existing in any given portion of the country, but we can indicate those distances by drawing our map even though very small so that lines, angles, circles and dots will bear the same relation to each other as the points they represent bear to each other. This is done by using a small measure to represent a large measure. If 1 inch was used to represent a mile, a map showing 80 square miles of ground, measuring 8×10 miles could be drawn on a comparatively small piece of paper. Whatever scale is used must be noted on the map, however. The true distances are found by pacing or by triangulation. The interesting, helpful and necessary points are learned by observation. These are the real guides when using a map and these should be placed most correctly. Some of the symbols most generally used in map making are shown in the accompanying cut. To be able to read a map is quite as important as making one. Signs must be understood, distances read, and directions known. It will help in ascertaining the latter point to hold the map so its position will be true to the points of the compass--the East to the East. This is called orienting a map. [Illustration: CONVENTIONAL SIGNS OF MAP MAKING Camp Post office Telegraph office City, Town or Buildings Church village School W. W. Hos. Water works Hospital Windmill cem. Ruins Cemetery Fence Barbed smooth Stone (any or board) Wire Fence Fence Wagon Footpath or Wagon Road Road Trail (unfenced) Railroad Double Track Trolley Station R. R. Line] [Illustration: general symbol streams spring or Foot Falls and Rapids or Bridges Telegraph Lines Ferries Grassland Cultivated Fields Lake or Pool Corn Cotton Marshes Orchard Woods of Any Kind Pine Woods MORE CONVENTIONAL SIGNS OF MAP MAKING] A sketch map, not made to scale or true as to direction or distance, but giving enough accurate information to serve in guiding a stranger truly, can be made very quickly and easily if the district sketched has been observed closely. Observation is at the root of map making. [Illustration: MAP OF GIRL SCOUT CAMP MADE BY SCOUT] The reproduced sketch of a map made by Girl Scout, will be a guide to the Scout who is learning how to tell a story by symbols. THE COMPASS The Mariner's Compass is an instrument which shows where the North, and other directions, are. Boxing the Compass consists in enumerating the points beginning with North and working around the circle as follows: NORTH North by East North, Northeast Northeast by North Northeast Northeast by East East, Northeast East by North EAST East by South East, Southeast Southeast by East Southeast Southeast by South South, Southeast South by East SOUTH South by West South, Southwest Southwest by South Southwest Southwest by West West, Southwest West by South WEST West by North West, Northwest Northwest by West Northwest Northwest by North North by West NORTH How to Find Points of Compass Without a Compass Every Scout should be able to find the North without a compass. By day the sun will tell you where the North is, and the stars by night. How to Tell the Points of the Compass by the Sun The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Any time before noon, if you stand facing the sun, North is at your left hand: after noon, if you face the sun, North is at your right hand. The Phoenicians, who sailed round Africa in ancient times, noticed that when they started the sun rose on their left-hand side--they were going south. Then they reported that they got to a strange country where the sun got up in the wrong quarter, namely on their right hand. The truth was that they had gone round the Cape of Good Hope and were steering north again up the coast of Africa. [Illustration: Mariner's Compass] Probably the most accurate way to find North, if you have no compass, is to use an open-faced watch. Holding the watch flat, turn it so that the small or hour hand points directly toward the sun. The South will then be half way between the hour hand and the figure XII on the dial. Before noon the halfway point is between the hour hand and XII clockwise, and after noon it is between the hour hand and XII counter-clockwise. How to Find North by the Stars All stars appear to rise in the east and set in the west, which is really due to our earth turning around under them. But one star never moves in relation to us, and that is Polaris, the North Star, which stands still over the north pole to show us where North is. 3. KNOTS AND THEIR USES FOR GIRL SCOUTS It doubtless seems very strange to you that a Girl Scout should have to know how to handle a rope and tie knots according to rules. Most people have never dreamed that there are rules for these things; they have made knots, when necessary, in a way peculiar to themselves and have been quite surprised that the knots come out when they are expected to hold fast and hold fast when they are expected to come out. Ropes and knots have been in use by all peoples for many years. The rules concerning them have been developed and perfected as time has passed until now there is no question as to the usefulness of these things and the way to handle them correctly. As the sailors and the engineers have worked with ropes and knots more than others, it is to them that we go for our information. We need all we can get, for today in nearly all forms of occupation twine, cord and rope are used and knots are tied. As the Girl Scout who wants to be a Golden Eaglet takes up many of these occupations, she needs to know how to tie knots quickly, in the dark if necessary, and correctly, for then they will hold fast yet can be readily untied. These are essential requirements to be remembered, but just as important is the fact that purposes and uses of knots differ greatly. Every Scout should have five feet of one-quarter inch Manila rope, whipped at both ends. With this small piece, which only represents the much larger rope needed in many cases for practical purposes, all of the required knots can be made and nearly all of their uses demonstrated. Have you ever made a blanket roll, put it across your shoulder, hiked through the woods or over the hills for a sleep in the open? Where would all your necessary articles have been if you had not tied them snugly in the roll? Without them you would have been far from happy. Or have you pulled a sled up a long hill over and over again for the sake of the slide down? How about the little knots that held the rope in place--did you ever think of them? There are many things we do for the sake of a good time where knots and rope are indispensable. An interesting story is told by a Girl Scout who watched two men trying to hang a very large and heavy curtain which was to be used as part of the stage setting for an entertainment. The men tried to tie two ropes together, one of which was considerably larger than the other. Every knot they tied was pulled out by the weight of the curtains. Finally the men were quite ready to say "It cannot be done." It was then that the Girl Scout offered her services. The men looked at her doubtfully, but said, "Go ahead." Of course she tied a knot that held fast; then she had to teach it to the men. You see, she could be helpful, for she knew the kind of knot that would hold two ropes of unequal thickness together and knew how to make it. Did you ever notice how few people know how to tie bundles and packages securely and neatly? Yet this is a most helpful thing to do. Parcels that go through the post or by express are handled roughly and unless tied with special care they are not delivered in good condition. Sometimes we find ourselves in the midst of unusual surroundings where we can be of service if we know what to do and how to do it. A Scout is sometimes called upon to give First Aid, possibly to tie on splints, a bandage, or a sling; or use a life-line. Once a boat was swept over one of the lesser falls at Niagara. In it were three people--a father, mother and their son. A group of men and women standing on the bridge saw the accident; one of them ran for a rope and threw the end over the side of the bridge calling to those in the water to catch it. One succeeded, but the rope slipped through his hands almost immediately because there was neither a loop nor a knot to hold on to. [Illustration: 1. Square or Reef Knot] These stories, which are true, make us realize the importance of knowing something of ropes and knots, that we may Be Prepared when our services are needed. Parts of a Rope The three parts of a rope are: 1. The End, the part used in leading; 2. The Bight, a loop made by bending the rope back on itself and holding it in place; 3. The Standing Part, the long portion of the rope not used when tying a knot. 1. Square or Reef Knot The name of the knot the purpose of which is to tie together two ends of equal thickness, either to make them fast or to lengthen a rope, is the Square or Reef knot. It is made so that the ends come out alongside of the standing part and the knot will not jam. It is used when tying bundles, such as the blanket-roll, and packages; for tying on splints, fastening the ends of a sling or mending broken strings, ropes or cords, as shoestrings, clotheslines, etc. It is the knot used more commonly than any other. To make the Square Knot: Take an end in each hand; Cross the end in the right hand over the end in the left hand; Bend it around the rope in the left hand; Cross the end in the left hand over the end in the right hand; Bend it around the rope in the right hand; Pull tight. 2. Sheet-bend Another knot that is used for tying two ends together, generally those of unequal thickness, or for fastening an end to a permanent loop, is the Sheet-bend. [Illustration: 2a. Sheet Bend: Loose] [Illustration: 2b. Sheet Bend: Drawn Tight] To make a Sheet-bend: Make in the end of the larger rope a small bight or use the permanent loop in its place; Pass the end of the smaller rope up through the bight; Under the bight; Over the bight; Under its own standing part; Pull the loops tight. This is the way the Girl Scout tied the rope together for the stage hands. 3. Bowline-Knot If the people on the bridge at Niagara Falls had made a Bowline-knot in the end of the rope before throwing it as a life-line they might have saved one if not three lives. A Bowline is used chiefly for hoisting and lowering; it can be used for a halter or with the Sheet-bend in making a guard-line or fence. It is a knot holding fast a loop which can be made of any size and which will not jam or give. To make a Bowline-knot: Take the end in the right hand; Draw the rope toward you over the palm of the left hand, measuring off as much as is needed to make the required size loop; Drop the end; Make a small bight in the palm of the left hand by turning the rope toward the ends of the fingers; Take the end in the right hand; Pass it up through the bight; Back of and around the standing part; Down through the bight; Pull the end and the rope forming the loop against the standing part. When the Bowline is used for hoisting or lowering a person as in case of fire, the loop should be large enough to be used as a seat; it should be passed over the head and shoulders, the standing part in front of the body, to be held on to with both hands. When using a rope for a life-line: Fasten securely one end to something that will not give. Make a Bowline at the other end of the line large enough to go over the head and shoulders; Hold the knot in the right hand, the end toward you; Take the standing part in the left hand, measure off about three feet of rope; Draw the rope toward you, pass it over the palm of the right hand and hold fast. Again measure off the same amount, draw the rope toward you, pass it over the palm of the right hand, and hold fast; Continue this process until enough rope is coiled to more than cover the distance to the person in the water. Grasp the coil firmly in the right hand; Hold the standing part in the left hand; Draw the right arm back from the shoulder; [Illustration: 3. Bowline] Swing the arm forward and throw the coil out over the water to the person in distress; Make sure that the person in the water gets a firm grasp on the rope; Quickly take the standing part in both hands; Pull on the rope with a hand over hand motion, keep the line taut and pull the person to safety. Do not make the mistake of throwing the coil "up"; throw it _out_ over the water. The important points to remember when using a rope for rescue work are to fasten the free end so the rope will not slip out of reach; to coil the rope properly so it will not kink or knot when let out; and to make a Bowline large enough to go around the body. When a group of Scouts make a guard line, each girl makes a Bowline in the end of her rope, large enough to put her hand through, fasten her right-hand neighbor's rope to it by means of a Sheet-bend and holds her portion of the line in place by using the Bowline in her rope for a handle. [Illustration: 4. Two Half-Hitches] Two Half-hitches are used to make fast an end of rope to a pole, post, etc. It is a knot that can be easily undone. It is used for hauling, fastening awning ropes, flag ropes, etc. To make a Half-hitch: Take the end in the right hand; Pass the end under and around the pole; Around the standing part: Under itself, forming a bight out of which the standing part comes. Repeat this for the second half-hitch, using standing part in place of pole. [Illustration: 5. Clove-Hitch] The purpose of a Clove-hitch, which is also called the Builders' Knot, is to make fast an end of rope, generally to a post or tree. This knot holds securely and does not slip laterally. It is of value when tethering an animal or tying a boat. It can be used for fastening an awning rope, tent ropes, for tying on splints or fastening the end of a bandage when it is used to confine a delirious person. A fence or guard-line can be made where trees or posts are available by tying the end of the rope by means of a Half-hitch to the first tree, and then using a Clove-hitch on the other trees or posts. To tie the Clove-hitch: Take the end in the right hand; Pass it around the post; Over the standing part; Continue around the post; Under the standing part; Slip the end up through the lower loop; Pull tight. [Illustration: 6. Sheep-Shank] The purpose of a Sheep-shank is to take up slack or shorten a rope temporarily. It is used on tent ropes, tow lines. To make the Sheep-shank: Cross the hands and take hold of the rope; Take up the slack by drawing the hands past each other; Hold the two long loops firmly in one hand; Make a bight in the rope between the loop and the end; Pass the loop through the bight; Do the same thing at the other end. The knot will stay in place so long as the rope is taut. If it is necessary to shorten a rope when neither end is held fast, make the Sheep-shank and pass each end through the bight nearest to it. [Illustration: Ready For Transportation or Storage] When in uniform a Girl Scout hangs her rope on a belt-hook placed in her belt or skirt-binding. _To have the rope in a convenient form:_ Make two loops five or six inches long at one end of the rope; Leaving a small bight at the top to go over the hook, bind the loops together by winding the standing part around them; Hold the end fast by putting it through the remaining bight. _To serve or whip the ends of a Scout rope so they will not fray:_ Take a piece of soft twine twelve or fourteen inches long; Make a loop two inches long at one end; Lay the loop on the rope, the end of the twine extending beyond the rope end an inch; Bind the rope and loop together by winding the standing part tightly and closely around them; Slip the end down through the loop, which must not be entirely covered by the binding; Pull the other end of the twine and draw the loop under the binding. As the twine will be held fast, the ends can be cut off close to the rope. A "knot board," showing the various knots tied perfectly and names attached, ends of rope whipped, bights, loops and coils, is an interesting bit of work for a Troop of Girl Scouts to do. The board hung in the Troop room would be a help to new Scouts, and it could be loaned to Troops that are not registered, but are learning the Tenderfoot test, which includes knot-tying. Glossary Belt-hook--A double hook in the form of the letter S. Sometimes called S-hook. Bight--A loop made by bending a rope back on itself and holding it in place. Coil--A series of rings, one on top of another, into which a rope is wound. Cord--A string or small rope composed of several strands of thread or vegetable fiber twisted and woven together. End--One of the terminal points of that which has more length than breadth. The part of a rope used in leading. Hemp--An annual herbaceous plant. The fiber, obtained from the skin or rind by rotting the stalks of the plant under moisture is prepared in various ways for twisting into ropes, cables, and weaving coarse fabrics. Knot--An interlacement of twine, cord, rope or other flexible material formed by twisting the ends about each other and then drawing tight the loop thus made. Life-line--A rope used in rescuing; it should have a Bowline in one end and the other end should be secured to something that will not give. Loop--An opening through which something can be passed. Manila rope--A rope made from Manila hemp, a fibrous material which is obtained from the leaves of plants which grow in the Philippine Islands. Rope--A cord of considerable thickness, technically over one inch in circumference. Ropes are made of hemp, manila, flax, cotton or other vegetable fiber or of iron, steel or other metallic wire. A rope is sometimes called a line. They are composed of threads which are spun or twisted into strands and the finished ropes have special names, according to the number of the strands, and the various sizes are indicated by the circumference in inches. Standing part--The long portion of a rope not used when tying a knot. String--A slender cord, a thick thread. Twine--A double thread; a thread made of two strands twisted. SECTION XVIII GIRL SCOUT PROFICIENCY TESTS AND SPECIAL MEDALS For details regarding these badges see the "BLUE BOOK OF RULES FOR GIRL SCOUT CAPTAINS" CONTENTS I. Introduction to Proficiency Tests. II. Proficiency Tests: *** Subjects marked thus are specially recommended for First Class Scouts or girls at least sixteen years old. **** Subjects marked thus are for Scouts eighteen years and over. Artist Athlete*** Bee-Keeper Bird Hunter Bugler Business Women*** Canner Child Nurse Citizen*** Cook Craftsman Cyclist Dairy Maid Dancer Dressmaker Drummer Economist Electrician Farmer First Aide*** Flower Finder Gardener Handy Woman Health Guardian*** Health Winner Home Maker Home Nurse*** Horsewoman Hostess Interpreter Journalist**** Laundress Milliner Motorist**** Musician Needlewoman Pathfinder Photographer Pioneer*** Rock Tapper Sailor*** Scribe Signaller Star Gazer Swimmer Telegrapher Zoologist III. Group Badge IV. Golden Eaglet. V. Special Medals: Attendance Stars Life Saving Medals Bronze Cross Silver Cross Medal of Merit Thanks Badge Community Service Award Scholarship Badge Proficiency Tests and Merit Badges 1. INTRODUCTION A girl must be a Second Class Scout before receiving a Merit Badge in any subject. However, this does not mean that she cannot begin to study her subject and plan for passing the test at any time. Proficiency in these tests is to be determined by the Local Council, or by persons competent (in the opinion of the Council) to judge it. If no Local Council exists, certificates should be secured from persons competent to judge each subject, such as teachers of music, dancing or drawing, riding masters, motorists, electricians, milliners, dressmakers, artists, craftsmen, scientists and so forth. These certificates should be sent to the National Headquarters or to the nearest District Headquarters for inspection. Headquarters will either pass on these, or indicate the nearest local body competent to deal with them. The tests as given are topical outlines of what a Scout should know about the subject rather than formal questions. Captains and others giving the tests will adapt the wording to the needs of the particular case. With many subjects a list of standard references is given. It is desirable that a girl should read at least one of these books, not in order to pass an examination but that she may be familiar with the general field and the great names and principles associated with it. Where a whole troop is working on a subject, portions of the books may be read at troop meetings, or several Scouts can read together and discuss their impressions. It is important that every Girl Scout should understand that the winning of any one of the following Merit Badges does not mean that she is a finished expert in the subject. What does it mean then? It means three things: 1. She has an intelligent interest in the subject 2. She has a reasonable knowledge of its broad principles 3. She is able to present some practicable proofs of her knowledge, so that a competent examiner can see that she has not simply "crammed it up" from a book. Doing, not talking or writing is the principle of the Girl Scouts One of the great things about these Merit Badges is that they require a definite amount of perseverance. This is a quality in which women are sometimes said to be lacking; if this is a fair criticism, the Merit Badges will certainly test it. Nobody compels any Scout to earn these Badges; she deliberately chooses to do so. Therefore, to fail in a task she has voluntarily set herself, comes straight back to her and shows her what stuff she is made of. For while it is of no particular importance how many things you start in this life, it is of great importance how many things you finish! Out OF GOODNESS of heart, or quick interest, or sudden resolution, a girl will start out to master a subject, earn a certain sum of money, make something for herself or someone else, form some good habit or break some bad one; and after her first enthusiasm has died out, where is she? So that a great many people laugh at a girl's plans--and with reason. Now while this may be merely amusing, so long as it affects only the girl herself, it becomes very annoying when other people's affairs are involved, and may be positively dangerous if carried too far. If your life depended upon a Girl Scout's efforts to resuscitate you from drowning, you would be very glad if she stuck to it. But if she happened to be a girl who had started to win five different Merit Badges, and had given them all up, half way through, what sort of chance do you think you would have? Girl Scouts are slower to begin than other girls, perhaps, but they stick to it till they've made good. "She carried that through like a Girl Scout" ought to become a common saying. 2. PROFICIENCY TESTS ARTIST SYMBOL--A PALETTE [Illustration] Submit a drawing, a painting, or a model of sculpture which in the judgment of a competent professional represents a sufficiently high order of ability to merit recognition. This badge is offered with the object of encouraging a talent already existing, and it is not suggested that Girl Scouts should select this badge unless they are possessed of sufficient natural talent to warrant presenting their work to a good judge. The standard required for winning the badge is left to the judgment of the professional as it is impossible for the organization to lay down strict requirements in these subjects. REFERENCES: "Children's Book of Art," A. E. Conway, Adam and Charles Black. "Knights of Art," Amy Steedman, George W. Jacobs and Company. "Gabriel and the Hour Book," Evaleen Stein. "Apollo," by S. Reinach, from the French by Florence Simmonds, Scribners. ATHLETE*** SYMBOL--BASKET BALL [Illustration] To qualify for this a Girl Scout must be at least fourteen, and must hold the badge for personal health, the "Health Winner." 1. State briefly the value and effect of exercise. 2. Demonstrate habitual good posture, sitting and standing. 3. Demonstrate (a) marching steps, quick and double time, and Scout's Pace. (b) Setting-up exercises, (as shown in Handbook). 4. Present statement from troop Captain, of a hike of at least 5 miles. 5. Demonstrate with basket ball 5 goals out of 7 trials standing at least 5 feet from basket, OR demonstrate with basket ball distance throw of 40 feet. 6. Demonstrate with indoor base ball accurate pitching for distance of forty feet. 7. Write brief description of rules for five popular games. 8. Play well and be able to coach in any three of the following games: Basket Ball, Battle Ball, Bowling, Captain Ball, Dodge Ball, Long Ball, Punch Ball, Indoor Baseball, Hockey--field or ice, Prisoners' Base, Soccer, Tennis, Golf, Volley Ball Newcomb. 9. Hold swimming badge or bring statement of ability to demonstrate three strokes, swim 100 yards, float and dive. Note: For alternate to swimming requirements see First Class Test, question 7, page 65. 10. Demonstrate three folk dances, using any nationality, OR be a qualified member of a school or society athletic team, playing one summer and one winter sport, OR be able to qualify for entry in a regular competition in some sport such as Tennis, Skating, Skiing. Running, Pitching Quoits, etc. REFERENCES: "Games for the Playground, Home, School and Gymnasium," Jessie H. Bancroft, Macmillan. "Summer in the Girls' Camp," A. W. Coale, Century. "Book of Athletics," Paul Withington, Lothrop. "Outdoor Sports and Games," C. H. Miller, Doubleday Page. BEE KEEPER SYMBOL--HIVE [Illustration] 1. What constitutes a swarm of bees? How do they live? Tell how honey is gathered and stored and honeycomb is built, and what part the queen, drones and workers play in the life of the colony. 2. Be able to recognize and describe each of the following: queen, drones, workers, eggs, larvae, pupae, honey, bee food, wax, pollen, propolis, brood-nest, comb, different queen cells. 3. Have a practicable knowledge of bee keeping and assist in hiving a swarm, examining a colony, removing the comb, finding the queen, putting foundation in sections, filling and removing supers, and preparing honey in comb and strained for market, and present a certificate to this effect. 4. Know which flowers afford the best food for bees, and how honey varies according to the flowers in color and flavor. REFERENCES: "Productive Bee Keeping," Pellett. Bulletins from Bureau of Animal Industry, U. S. Department of Agriculture. "Life of the Bee," Maurice Maeterlinck, Dodd. "Queen Bee," Carl Ewald, Thomas Nelson and Sons. "How to Keep Bees," A. B. Comstock, Doubleday Page. BIRD HUNTER SYMBOL--BLUE BIRD [Illustration] To qualify for this badge a Girl Scout should belong to the Audubon Society[8] and be able to answer the following: 1. Give list of twenty wild birds personally observed and identified in the open and show field notes including at least the date seen, markings, food habits, nesting habits if known, and migration, if any. 2. Give game-bird laws of her State. 3. Name five birds that destroy rats and mice. 4. Give list of ten birds of value to farmers and fruit growers in the destruction of insects on crops and trees. 5. (a) Tell what the Audubon Society is and how it endeavors to protect the birds. (b) Give name and location of two large bird refuges; explain the reason for their establishment and give names of the birds they protect. 6. (a) Know what an aigret is. How obtained and from what bird. (b) Tell methods to attract birds winter and summer. 1. GENERAL REFERENCES: (At least one must be read to qualify for badge). "Method of Attracting Wild Birds," Gilbert H. Trafton, Houghton, Mifflin Co. "Bird Study Book," T. Gilbert Pearson, Doubleday Page Co. "Wild Bird Guests," Ernest Harold Baynes, E. P. Dutton Co. 2. HANDBOOKS AND SPECIAL BIRD BOOKS: "Hawks and Owls of the United States," A. K. Fisher. "Useful Birds and Their Protection," Edward H. Forbush, Massachusetts Board of Agriculture. "Home Life of Wild Birds," F. H. Herrick, G. F. Putnam Co. "Land Birds East of the Rockies," Chester A. Reed, Doubleday Page Co. "Water and Game Birds," Chester A. Reed, Doubleday Page Co. "Western Birds," Chester A. Reed, Doubleday Page Co. "Handbook of Birds of Eastern North America," Frank M. Chapman, D. Appleton and Co. "Bird Life," Frank M. Chapman, D. Appleton and Co. "Handbook of Birds of Western United States," Florence Merriam Bailey, Houghton, Mifflin and Co. "Children's Book of Birds," O. T. Miller, Houghton, Mifflin Co. "Burgess Bird Book for Children," W. T. Burgess, Little Brown Co. BUGLER SYMBOL--BUGLE [Illustration] Play correctly as to notes and time the following calls and marches and play at sight any calls selected: 1, First Call; 2, Reveille; 3, Assembly; 4, Mess; 5, Recall; 6, Fire; 7, Drill; 8, Officers; 9, Retreat; 10, To Colors; 11, To quarters; 12, Taps. Reference: Cadet Manual, E. L. Steever, Lippincott. BUSINESS WOMAN*** SYMBOL--NOTE-BOOK [Illustration] 1. Must have a legible and neat handwriting and show a knowledge of spelling and punctuation by writing from dictation a paragraph necessitating use of commas, periods, quotation marks, apostrophe. 2. Must typewrite 40 words a minute, or as an alternative write in shorthand from dictation 70 words a minute as a minimum, and transcribe them at the rate of 35 words. 3. Must show a knowledge of simple bookkeeping and arithmetic. 4. Must show how to make out, and know how and when to use receipts, notes and drafts, and money orders. 5. Must know how to write a simple business letter, such as asking for employment, or a letter recommending a person for employment. 6. Must show how to keep a check book, make out checks and deposit slips, endorse checks, and balance checking accounts. 7. Must keep a simple cash account to show receipts and expenditures of personal funds for three months, OR the household accounts of the family for three months. (This account may be fictitious.) 8. Must be able to write a letter from memory on facts given five minutes previously. REFERENCES: "Thrift by Household Accounting," American Economics Association, Baltimore. "Household Accounts and Economics," Shaeffer, Macmillan. "What every Business Woman Should Know," Lillian C. Kearney, Stokes. "Bookkeeping and Accounting," J. J. Klein, Appleton. "Essential Elements of Business Character," H. G. Stockwell, Revell. CANNER SYMBOL--JAR AND FRUIT [Illustration] 1. Submit the following specimens of canning work: (a) six pint jars of two kinds of vegetables, showing the cold pack method; (b) six jars of preserved fruit, at least two kinds; (c) six glasses of jelly, jam or marmalade. 2. What are the essential things to be considered when selecting vegetables to be canned, fruit to be preserved or made into jelly, jam or marmalade? 3. Give general rules for preparing fruits and vegetables for preserving in any way. 4. What kind of jars are considered best for preserving? What other materials are used for making holders besides glass? How should all utensils and jars, glasses, rubbers, be prepared before using? 5. What is essential regarding the heat? 6. What are the general rules for preserving fruit? Give proportions by measure or weight, time of cooking, amount of sugar, water or any other ingredient for the fruits that you have preserved, and for at least two others. 7. Give same rules for jams, marmalades and jellies. 8. Give directions for filling and sealing jars. How can jars be tested within twenty-four hours after filling? If not air tight what should be done? 9. What should be done to all jars, tumblers, etc., before storing? How are canned goods best stored? REFERENCES: Government Bulletin--U. S. Department of Agriculture. "Canning, Preserving and Jelly Making," J. McK. Hill, Little. CHILD NURSE SYMBOL--A MALTESE CROSS [Illustration] 1. During a period of three months care for a little child, under two years, for a time equivalent to two hours daily for four weeks. During this period all of the necessary work for routine care of a child must be demonstrated, including feeding, bathing, dressing, preparing for bed, arranging bed and windows, amusing, giving the air, and exercise, and so forth, according to directions in Handbook. 2. What are the most necessary things to be considered when caring for a child under three years of age? Elaborate on these points. 3. What are some of the results of neglecting to do these things? What is the importance of regularity in care, to child, to mother, or nurse? 4. Should a child be picked up or fed every time he cries? What is the result of so doing? 5. What are the important things to remember in lifting and handling children? 6. What things are important in connection with their sleeping, either in or out of doors? Up to what age should a child have two naps a day? One nap? What time should a child be put to bed? 7. How can a baby be encouraged to move itself and take exercise? 8. What should be done when preparing a baby's bath? How should the bath be given to a little baby? To an older child? 9. How is a child prepared for bed? How are the bed and room prepared? 10. What is the best food for a child up to nine months? If he cannot have this food, what can take its place, and how should it be given? What are the principal things to remember concerning the ingredients and preparation of this food, and the care of utensils? 11. At what age may a child be given solid food with safety? What foods are best and how should they be prepared? 12. When feeding a child either from a bottle or a spoon, what precautions should be taken? How often should a child under one year be fed? from one to two years? 13. When suffering from a cold what precautions should be taken? If it is necessary to continue to care for a child in spite of your cold? What is the wisest thing to do first if a child is ill? REFERENCES: "The Baby, His Care and Training," M. Wheeler, Harper. "Care and Feeding of Children," Ernest Holt, Appleton. "The Home and Family," Kinne and Cooley, Macmillan. [Illustration: THE CITIZEN*** SYMBOL--EIGHT-POINTED STAR] 1. Who is responsible for the government of your country? 2. Whose business is it to see that the laws are enforced? 3. How can you help make your Government better? 4. Give the best definition you know of our Government. 5. What are the principal qualifications for the vote in your State? 6. a. Who is a citizen? b. How can a person not a citizen become a citizen? c. What is the advantage of being a citizen? 7. Who makes the law for you in your State? 8. What part will you have in making that law? 9. What are the duties of the President of the United States and of each of his Cabinet? 10. Name five things on which the comfort and welfare of your family depend, which are controlled by your Government. 11. a. What is meant by a secret ballot? b. How can anyone tell how you vote? 12. What is the difference between registering to vote and enrolling in a political party? 13. If you enroll in a political party must you vote the straight ticket of that party? REFERENCES: "The Woman Movement in America," McClurg and Co., Chicago. "The Woman Voter's Manual," Forman and Shuler, Century Co., 1918. "Democracy in Reconstruction," Houghton Mifflin, 1919. Cleveland and Schafer. "History of Politics," Edward Jenks, Macmillan Co. "The Subjection of Women," John Stuart Mill, Frederick Stokes. "Your Vote and How to Use It," Mrs. Raymond Brown, Harper Bros. "The Story of a Pioneer," Anna Howard Shaw. "American Commonwealth," James Bryce. "Promised Land," Mary Antin, Houghton Mifflin. "Land of Fair Play," Geoffrey Parsons, Scribner. "Making of an American," J. A. Rils, Macmillan. "Peace and Patriotism," E. S. Smith, Lothrop, Lee and Shepard. "The Children in the Shadow," Ernest Kent Coulter, McBride Nest and Co. "American Citizenship," Charles and Mary Beard, Macmillan. [Illustration: COOK SYMBOL--GRIDIRON] This test is based on the thorough knowledge of the article on "Cooking" in the handbook. It may be taken in sections. A certificate may be presented from a Domestic Science teacher, or from the mother if the Captain knows her and can testify to her competency to judge. 1. Build and regulate the fire in a coal or wood stove, or if a gas range is used know how to regulate the heat in the oven, broiler and top. 2. What does it mean to boil a food? To broil? To bake? Why is it not advisable to fry food? 3. How many cupfuls make a quart? How many tablespoonfuls to a cup? Teaspoonfuls to a tablespoon? 4. Be able to cook two kinds of cereal. 5. Be able to make tea, coffee and cocoa properly. 6. Be able to cook a dried and a fresh fruit. 7. Be able to cook three common vegetables in two ways. 8. Be able to prepare two kinds of salad. How are salads kept crisp? 9. Know the difference in food value between whole milk and skimmed milk. 10. Be able to boil or coddle or poach eggs properly. 11. Be able to select meat and prepare the cuts for broiling, roasting and stewing OR be able to clean, dress and cook a fowl. 12. Be able to make two kinds of quick bread, such as biscuits or muffins. 13. Be able to plan menus for one day, choosing at least three dishes in which left-overs may be utilized. REFERENCES: "The Junior Cook Book," Girl Scout Edition, Clara Ingram, Barse and Hopkins. "Fun of Cooking," C. F. Benton, Century. "Boston Cooking School Cook Book," Little. "Hot Weather Dishes," S. T. Rorer, Arnold and Co. "Food and Health," Helen Kinne and Anna M. Cooley, Macmillan. [Illustration: CRAFTSMAN SYMBOL--PRIMITIVE DECORATIVE DESIGN] To earn this badge a Girl Scout must qualify in at least one of the following and must read at least one general reference: 1. Tie-dying: Make a tie-dyed scarf using two kinds of tying. Reference: "Dyes and Dyeing," Charles E. Pellew, McBride. "Industrial and Applied Art Books, Book 6," Bush. 2. Block Printing: Make an original design for a block print unit using a flower or bird motif. Apply to a bag or collar in one color using oil paint or dyes. 3. Stencilling: Make an original stencil design for a border, use flower, bird, boat or tree motif. Apply in two colors to a bag, collar or scarf using oil paint or dyes. 4. Crochet, Cross-stitch, Darning: Make an original border design on square paper using any two geometric units, or a conventional flower or animal form. Apply the design to a towel in crochet, cross-stitch or darning. Reference: "Cross-stitch Patterns," Dorothy Bradford, "Industrial Art Text Books, Book 6," "Modern Priscilla," Snow. 6. Weaving, Baskets: Design a basket shape with its widest dimension not less than six inches, and make the basket of raffia over a reed or cord foundation. Use eight stitch or lazy squaw. Reference: "How To Make Baskets," White--"Practical Basketry," McKay. "Inexpensive Basketry," Marten. "Raffia and Reed Weaving," Knapp. Weaving Wool: Weave a girdle, a hat band, or a dress ornament use a simple striped or geometric design, in three or more colors. Reference: "Hand Weaving," Dorothy Bradford. "Hand-loom Weaving," Todd. Weaving Beads: Design and weave a bead chain or a bead band for trimming: use two or more colors. 7. Appliqué: Design an appliqué unit in a 7-inch square that might be applied to a pin cushion top, a bag or a square for a patchwork quilt. Use geometric units or conventional flower or bird forms suggested by cretonnes. Work out in cotton materials using two tones of one color or closely related colors, as brown and orange; grey and violet. 8. Pottery: Design an original shape for a bowl, vase or paper weight, and model shape in clay. Reference: "The Potter's Craft," Binns--"Pottery," Cox. "Industrial Work for the Middle Grades," E. Z. Worst. 9. Posters: Design a Girl Scout poster that will illustrate some law or activity. Poster to be at least 9×12 inches and to consist of a simple illustration and not less than three words of lettering. Finish in crayon, water color, pen and ink, or tempera. Reference: "School Arts Magazine," Jan. 1920. "Poster Magazine." 10. China Painting: Make a conventional design for a border that can be used on a plate, bowl, or cup and saucer. Work out on the object in one color in a tinted background. References: Keramic Studio--any number. 11. Decoration: Make an original design for a box top or a tray center adapting units found in cretonnes. Apply to the object using enamel paints and in a color scheme suggested by the same or another cretonne. GENERAL REFERENCE BOOKS: Read regularly: School Arts Magazine, Davis Press. Art Crafts for Beginners, Frank G. Sanford, Century; Handicraft for Girls, McGloughlin--See also: "Wood Carving," P. Hasbruck, McKay. [Illustration: CYCLIST SYMBOL--WHEEL] 1. Own a bicycle, and care for it, cleaning, oiling, and making minor repairs, readjusting chain, bars and seat. 2. Be able to mend a tire. 3. Demonstrate the use of a road map. 4. Demonstrate leading another bicycle while riding. 5. Know the laws of the road, right of way, lighting and so forth. 6. Make satisfactory report to Captain, of a bicycle Scouting expedition as to the condition of a road with camping site for an overnight hike. 7. Pledge the bicycle to the Government in time of need. REFERENCES: "American Girl's Handibook," L. Beard, Scribner. "For Playground, Field and Forest," D. C. Beard, Scribner. [Illustration: DAIRY MAID SYMBOL--MILKING STOOL] 1. Take entire care of a cow and the milk of one cow for one month, keeping a record of quantity of each milking. 2. Make butter at four different times, and submit statement of amount made and of the process followed in making. 3. Make pot cheese; give method. 4. Name four breeds of cows. How can they be distinguished? Which breed gives the most milk? Which breed gives the richest milk? 5. What are the rules for feeding, watering and pasturing cows? What feed is best for cows? What care should be given cows to keep them in perfect condition? What diseases must be guarded against in cows? Why is it so imperative to have a cow barn, all implements, workers and cows scrupulously clean? 6. Of what is milk composed? How is cream separated from milk? Name two processes and explain each. How and why should milk be strained and cooled before being bottled or canned? REFERENCES: "Stories of Industry," Vol. 2, A. Chase, Educational Pub. Co. "How the World is Fed," F. G. Carpenter, American Book Co. "Foods and their uses," F. G. Carpenter, Scribner. [Illustration: DANCER SYMBOL--FOOT IN SLIPPER] This test is being revised. Following is a Temporary ruling (July 1922). 1. Demonstrate three folk dances. 2. Demonstrate three modern social dances in correct form. See rules of American Association of Dancing Masters. OR 3. Where social dancing is not given approval by parents, three additional folk dances may be substituted. REFERENCES: "Dances of the People," Elizabeth Burchenal, Schirmer. "Folk Dances and Singing Games," Elizabeth Burchenal, Schirmer. "Social Games and Group Dances," J. C. Elsom, Lippincott. "Country Dance Book," C. J. Sharp, Novello. [Illustration: DRESSMAKER SYMBOL--SCISSORS] 1. Must hold Needlewoman's Badge. 2. Must know the bias, selvage, and straight width of goods. 3. Must cut and make a garment from a pattern following all rules and directions given. It is suggested that two girls work together on this. 4. Be able to clean, oil and use a sewing machine. 5. Demonstrate on other persons the way to measure for length of skirt, length of sleeve, length from neck to waist line. Sew on hooks and eyes so they will not show. Hang a skirt, make a placket, put skirt on belt. Skirt must be hemmed evenly and hang evenly. 6. Know what to do if a waist is too long from the neck to the waist line and does not fit well. REFERENCES: "Complete Dressmaker," C. E. Laughlin, Appleton. "The Dress You Wear and How to Make It," M. J. Rhoe, Putnam. "The Dressmaker," Butterick Publishing Co. "Clothing and Health," Helen Kinne and Anna M. Cooley, Macmillan. "Clothing: Choice, Care, Cost," Mary Schenet Woolman, Lippincott 1920. [Illustration: DRUMMER SYMBOL--DRUM AND STICKS] Be prepared to play all of the following taps and steps and in order further to show proficiency on the drum, perform any feat selected. 1. "Roll off"; 2. Flam (right and left hand); 3. Five-stroke roll; 4. Seven-stroke roll; 5. "Taps" step; 6. Six-eight step; 7. two-four step; 8. Single Stroke. REFERENCES: "Recollections of a Drummer Boy," H. M. Kieffer, Houghton Mifflin [Illustration: ECONOMIST SYMBOL--BEE] A Girl Scout must qualify for 1 and 2, and either 3 or 4. 1. Offer record of ten per cent. savings from earnings or allowance for three months. Show card for Postal Savings, or a Savings Bank Account. 2. Show record from parent or guardian that she has: a. Darned stockings. b. Keep shoes shined and repaired. c. Not used safety pins or other makeshift for buttons, hooks, hems of skirts, belts, etc. d. Kept clothes mended and cleansed from small spots. 3. For girls who have the spending of their money, either in allowance or earnings, show by character of shoes, stockings and gloves, hair-ribbons, handkerchiefs and other accessories that they know how to select them for wearing qualities and how to keep them in repair. 4. Show record of one week's buying and menus with plans for using food economically, such as left-overs, cheap but nourishing cuts of meat, butter substitutes, thrifty use of milk such as sour, skimmed or powdered milk, and so forth. REFERENCES: "Scout Law in Practice," A. A. Carey, Little. "Thrift and Conservation," A. H. Chamberlain, Lippincott. [Illustration: ELECTRICIAN SYMBOL--LIGHTNING] 1. Explain the use of magnets for attraction and repulsion. 2. Describe the use of electricity for forming electro-magnets and their use in: Electric bell; Telegraph; Telephone. 3. What is meant by low and high voltage in electric current? Describe the use of current in: Dry cell; Storage Battery; Dynamo. 4. a. Describe how current is sent through resistance wire resulting in heat and light, in case of Electric lights, Electric stoves, toasters, flat irons, etc., and b. How it is converted into working energy in Motors. 5. Describe fuses and their use, and how to replace a burnt-out fuse. 6. Connect two batteries in series with a bell and push button. 7. Demonstrate methods of rescuing a person in contact with live wires, and of resuscitating a person insensible from shock. 8. Know how electricity is used as motive power for street cars, trains, and automobiles. 9. Know the proper way to connect electric appliances such as flat irons, toasters, etc. REFERENCES: "Electricity in Every Day Use," J. F. Woodfull, Doubleday Page. "How to Understand Electrical Work," W. H. Onken, Harper. "Harper's Electricity Book for Boys," J. H. Adams, Harper. "Electricity for Young People," Tudor Jenks, Stokes. "Heroes of Progress in America," Charles Morris, Lippincott. [Illustration: FARMER SYMBOL--SICKLE] This badge is given for proficiency in general farming. A Scout farmer may have her chief interest in rearing animals but she should know something about the main business of the farmer which is tilling the soil. Therefore, the Scout must fulfill four requirements: either A or B under I, and II, III, and IV. I. A. Animal Care A Scout must have reared successfully one of the following: a) A brood of at least 12 chickens under hen or with incubator. b) A flock of at least 12 pigeons, 12 ducks, 12 geese or 12 guinea-fowl. c) A family of rabbits or guinea pigs. d) A calf, a colt, or a pig. A certificate as to the condition of the animals must be presented, made by some competent judge who has seen them. Wherever possible a chart should be made by the Scout, showing the schedule of care followed, including feeding, and notes on the development of the animals. AND she must also have planted and cultivated a small vegetable garden like the one described in the Handbook, in the Section "The Girl Scout's Own Garden" OR B. Vegetable raising A Scout may make her main interest the raising of some sort of vegetable or fruit and may do one of the following: 1. Plant, cultivate and gather the crop from (a) A small truck garden, with at least six vegetables, two berries, and two salads or greens, OR (b) Where the soil is not suitable for a variety of plants, she may raise a single vegetable, like corn or tomatoes, or tubers. 2. Tend and gather a fruit crop such as apples, peaches, pears, cherries, oranges, or any other tree fruit, OR Cultivate and tend a small vineyard or grape arbor, and gather the grapes, OR Plant and cultivate and gather the berries from strawberry, raspberry, blackberry, currant or gooseberry plants. Whatever the vegetable or fruit chosen a chart should be made and presented, showing the schedule of digging, planting, sowing and tending, with notes on the time of appearance of the first shoots, the size and condition of the crop and so forth. Any obstacles met and overcome, such as insect pests, drouths or storms should be mentioned. No special size is mentioned for the garden, as the conditions vary so greatly in different parts of the country. The quality of the work, and the knowledge gained is the important thing. II. Identify and collect ten common weeds and tell how to get rid of each. III. Identify ten common insect pests, tell what plant or animal each attacks, and how to get rid of each. IV. Describe four different kinds of soil and tell what is best planted in each. Tell what sort of fertilizer should be used in each soil. Explain the value of stable manure. STANDARD REFERENCES: Farmers Bulletin, published by the Department of Agriculture, Washington, D. C. Write for catalogue and select the titles bearing on your special interest. The bulletins are free. The Beginner's Garden Book by Allen French, Macmillan Co. Manual of Gardening, L. H. Bailey, Macmillan. Principles of Agriculture, L. H. Bailey, Macmillan. Essentials of Agriculture, H. J. Waters, Ginn. [Illustration: FIRST AIDE*** SYMBOL--RED CROSS IN BLACK CIRCLE] A Girl Scout should know: 1. What to do first in case of emergency. 2. Symptoms and treatment of shock. 3. How and when to apply stimulants. 4. How to put on a sling. 5. How to bandage the head, arm, hand, finger, leg ankle, eye, jaw. 6. What to do for: a. bruises, strains, sprains, dislocations, fractures; b. wounds; c. burns, frost bite, freezing, sunstroke, heat exhaustion; d. drowning, electric shock, gas accidents; e. apoplexy, convulsions; f. snake bite; g. common emergencies such as: 1. cinders in the eye; 2. splinter under the nail; 3. wound from rusty nail; 4. oak and ivy poisoning; 5. insect in the ear. A Girl Scout should demonstrate: 7. Applying a sterile dressing. 8. Stopping bleeding. 9. Putting on a splint. 10. Making a stretcher from uniform blanket or Scout neckerchief and poles. 11. The Schaefer method of artificial respiration. REFERENCES: Section on First Aid in this Handbook. American Red Cross Abridged Text Books on First Aid, Blakiston. [Illustration: FLOWER FINDER SYMBOL--FLOWER] 1. To pass this test a Scout must be able to tell the difference between plants and animals and the difference between the two general types of plants. 2. A Scout must also pass either the test for Flowers and Ferns or Trees given below. A. FLOWERS AND FERNS 1. Make a collection of fifty kinds of wild flowers and ferns and correctly name them or make twenty-five photographs or colored drawings of wild flowers and ferns. 2. Why were the following ferns so named: Christmas Fern, Sensitive Fern, Walkingleaf Fern, Cinnamon Fern, Flowering Fern? 3. Name and describe twenty cultivated plants in your locality. 4. Be able to recognize ten weeds. 5. How can you distinguish Poison Ivy from Virginia Creeper? What part of Pokeweed is poisonous? What part of Jimsonweed is poisonous? Be able to recognize at least one poisonous mushroom. B. TREES 1. Give examples of the two great groups of trees and distinguish between them. 2. Why is forest conservation important? What are the laws of your State concerning forest conservation? 3. Mention at least three uses of trees. 4. Collect, identify and preserve leaves from twenty-five different species of trees. 5. Mention three trees that have opposite branching and three that have alternate. 6. How do the flower-buds of Flowering Dogwood differ from the leaf-buds? When are the flower-buds formed? 7. The buds of what tree are protected by a natural varnish? 8. Mention one whose outer bud-scales are covered by fine hairs. Can you find a tree that has naked buds? 9. From a Sassafras-tree or from a Tulip-tree collect and preserve leaves of as many shapes as possible. 10. Name five trees in this country which produce edible nuts. REFERENCES: A. FLOWERS AND FERNS "New Manual of Botany," Asa Gray, American Book Co. "Illustrated Flora of the Northern States and Canada," (three volumes), N. L. Britton, Brown and Addison, Scribner. "Flower Guide," Chester A. Reed, Doubleday Page. "Flora of the Southeastern States," John K. Small, published by the author, New York Botanical Garden. "Flora of the Rocky Mountain Region," P. A. Rydberg, published by the author, New York Botanical Garden. "State Floras."--There are some excellent State Floras, and in order to keep this list from being too long, it is suggested that the Scout leader write to the Professor of Botany in her State University and ask for the name, author and publisher of the best Flora of her State. Especially is this advisable for those living in sections of the country not covered by the above references. "Our Native Orchids," William Hamilton Gibson. "Wild Flower Book for Young People," A. Lounsberry, Stokes. "Field Book of American Wild Flowers," F. S. Matthews, Putnam. "Emerald Story Book," A. M. Skinner, Duffield. "Mushrooms," George F. Atkinson, Henry Holt Co., (See Handbook, "Scouting for Girls," Section on Woodcraft.) B. TREES REFERENCES: "Field Book of American Trees and Shrubs," F. S. Matthews, Putnam. "Trees of the Northern United States," Austin C. Apgar, American Book Co. "Manual of Trees of North America," Charles S. Sargent, Houghton Mifflin Co. "Handbook of the Trees of United States and Canada," Romeyn B. Hough, published by the author, Lowville, N. Y. "Trees in Winter," A. F. Blakeslee, and C. D. Jarvis, Macmillan Co. "The Book of Forestry," F. F. Moon, Appleton. [Illustration: GARDENER SYMBOL--TROWEL] The test may well be worked for by a patrol or even a troop who can share expenses for tools, and cultivate together a larger plot of ground than would be possible for any one girl. Arrangements may frequently be made through the school garden authorities. Alternate: For Scouts already members of the Girls' Garden and Canning Club throughout the country, a duplicate of their reports, sent in for their season's work, to the State agricultural agents, or agricultural colleges, in cooperation with the Department of Agriculture of the United States, may be submitted as their test material for this badge, in place of the Test given. 1. What are the necessary things to be considered before starting a garden? List them in the correct order. 2. What exposure is best for the garden? Why? At what season of the year is it best to prepare the soil? What care should be given garden tools? 3. Why is it necessary to fertilize the soil for a garden? What kind of fertilizer will you use in your garden, and why? 4. Do all seeds germinate? What precautions must be taken when purchasing seed? During what month should seed be sown in the ground in your locality? What are the rules for sowing seed as regards depth? 5. What does it mean to thin out and to transplant? When and why are both done? 6. What does it mean to cultivate? Why is it very important? How is it best done? What should be done with pulled weeds? 7. When is the proper time of day to water a garden? Is moistening the surface of the ground sufficient? If not, why not? 8. Name five garden pests common in your locality and tell how to eradicate them. Name three garden friends and tell what they do. 9. At what time of day is it best to pick flowers and vegetables? Mention two things to be considered in both cases. 10. What are tender and hardy plants? Herbaceous plants, annuals, perennials and biennials? Bulbs and tubers? 11. Select a garden site, or if space is lacking use boxes, barrels, window boxes, tubs and so forth; prepare the soil, choose the seed of not less than six flowers, and six vegetables that will grow well in the soil and climate in which they are planted; take entire care of the garden and bring to blossom and fruit at least 75 per cent. of the seed planted. Keep and submit a record of the garden, including size, time and money spent, dates of planting, blooming, and gathering of vegetables, or colors of flowers, and so forth. REFERENCES: "Harper's Book for Young Gardeners," A. H. Verill, Harper. "Beginner's Garden Book," Allen French, Macmillan. "Home Vegetable Gardening from A to Z," Adolph Krulm, Doubleday. "Suburban Gardens," Grace Tabor, Outing Publishing Co. "The Vegetable Garden," R. L. Watts, Outing Publishing Co. [Illustration: HANDY-WOMAN SYMBOL--HAMMER] 1. Know how to mend, temporarily with soap, a small leak in a water or gas pipe. 2. Know how to turn off the water or gas supply for the house and whom to notify in case of accident, OR Know what to do to thaw out frozen water pipes, OR Be able to put on a washer on a faucet, OR Cover a hot water boiler neatly and securely to conserve the heat, using newspaper and string. 3. Know the use of and how to use a wrench and pliers. 4. Demonstrate the way to use a hammer, screw-driver, awl, saw can-opener, corkscrew. 5. Locate by sounding, an upright in a plaster wall, and know why and when this is necessary to be done. 6. Put up a shelf using brackets, strips of wood or both and know under what conditions to use either. 7. Be able to put up hooks for clothes or other articles and properly space them. 8. Be able to measure for and put up a rod in a clothes closet, OR Be able to repair the spring in a window shade and tack the shade on the roller, OR Know how to keep clean and care for window and door screens. 9. Must wrap, tie securely and neatly, and label a parcel for delivery by express or parcel post. 10. Be able to sharpen knives using either a grindstone, whetstone, the edge of an iron stove, or another knife. 11. Clean, trim and fill an oil lamp, or put on a gas mantle, OR Clean, oil and know how to repair the belt of a sewing machine, OR Lay a fire in a fireplace and tell what to do with the ashes. 12. Choose a wall space for a picture, measure for the wire, fasten the wire to the picture frame and give the rule concerning height for hanging pictures. 13. State how brooms, dry mops, dustpans, and brushes should be placed when not in use, and be able to wash brushes and place them properly for drying. REFERENCES: "What a Girl Can Make and Do," Lina Beard, Scribner. "Harper's Handy Book for Girls," A. P. Paret, Harper. "Handicraft for Handy Girls," A. N. Hall, Lothrop. "In the Days of the Guild," L. Lamprey, Stokes. [Illustration: HEALTH GUARDIAN*** SYMBOL--THE CADUCEUS] I. Recreation and Health. What is offered to the public in the town you live in, or in that part of the city in which you live, in the way of Play Grounds, Gymnasiums, Baths, Skating Rinks, Tennis Courts, Golf Links, Water Sports? If there is a public park in or near the town; what privileges does it offer, especially for young people? Is it well taken care of? Well patronized? Discuss briefly why you think the Government should provide these things and what results may be expected when it does not supply them. How does the lack of them affect the grown people of a town, in the end? II. Special Health Facilities in your Locality. 1. What is the rule as to registering births? What is the advantage of this? What is the infant mortality rate? Of what diseases should the local authorities be notified? What diseases must be quarantined? Isolated? Posted? Reported? 2. Food Supplies. What are milk stations? Does your community control the marketing of milk to any degree? Why is the milk question so important? Are there any laws for your bakeries? What are the regulations as to the storage and protection of meat in local markets? 3. Housing. If three families are willing to live in three rooms in your town, may they do so? Is there anything to prevent your erecting a building of any size and material you wish in any place? 4. Medical Institutions. Is there a public hospital in your town? Who has a right to use it? Who pays for it? Is there a public clinic? Why should there be? Is there a public laboratory? How would it benefit your community if there were? Is there a district nurse? How could Girl Scouts assist such a nurse? 5. Schools. Is there any medical inspection in your schools? How did it ever effect you? Is its work followed up in the home? How are Girl Scouts particularly fitted to help in this? Is there a school nurse? Why does it pay the community to employ one? Are luncheons served in your school free, or at low cost? Mention at least two advantages in this and one disadvantage. Are there school clinics for eyes and teeth? Why are some cities providing such clinics? 6. Baby Hygiene. Is there any place in your town where young or ignorant mothers can ask advice and instruction in the care of infants? State briefly why you think such help would benefit the community in the end. III. Public Services and Sanitation. 1. Who is responsible for the cleaning of the streets? Dry or wet method used? 2. What are the laws concerning the public collection and disposal of garbage? How much responsibility in this line has your family? Can you do what you please? Is there any practical use for garbage? 3. What is the source of your local water supply? What measures are taken to make and keep it pure?--State some of the results of lack of care in this matter. 4. Why should there be regulations about spitting in public places? Why are common towels and drinking cups forbidden? What are the general rules for prevention and treatment of tuberculosis? 5. Trace the life history of the house fly or filth fly and tell why it is a menace. How may the fly be exterminated? How are mosquitoes dangerous? How may they be eliminated? REFERENCES: "Democracy in Reconstruction," Frederick A. Cleveland and Joseph Schafer, Houghton Mifflin. "A Manual for Health Officers," J. Scott MacNutt, John Wiley and Sons. "House of the Good Neighbor," Esther Lovejoy, Macmillan. "Community Civics," J. Field, Macmillan. "Town and City," F. G. Jewett, Ginn and Co. "Good Citizenship," J. Richman, American Book Co. "Healthy Living," Charles E. Winslow, Merrill Co. [Illustration: HEALTH WINNER SYMBOL--THE CADUCEUS IN TREFOIL] I. To earn this badge a Girl Scout must for three months pay attention to those conditions upon which health depends. She should keep a Health Record like that shown in the Handbook, which must cover at least the following points: 1. Position of body: Show improvement in posture. 2. Exercise (a) Walk a mile briskly or walk steadily and vigorously for fifteen minutes, or take some other active and vigorous outdoor exercise for at least thirty minutes. OR in case of bad weather, (b) Do setting-up exercises as given in Handbook every day. At least twenty minutes should be spent on these, either at one time, or ten minutes night and morning. To make this point will require a record of compliance for at least seventy-five days in three months. 3. Rest. (a) Go to bed early. Be in bed by at least 9:30 and sleep from eight to ten hours. Do not go to parties, the theatre, movies or any other late entertainment on nights before school or work. 4. Supply needs for Air, Water and Food in the right way: (a) Sleep with window open. (b) Drink at least six glasses of water during the day, between meals; taking one before breakfast, two between breakfast and lunch, two between lunch and dinner, and one before going to bed. (c) Eat no sweets, candy, cake or ice cream except as dessert after meals. 5. Keep Clean: (a) Have a bowel movement at least once every day, preferably immediately after breakfast or the last thing at night. (b) Wash hands after going to the toilet, and before eating. Take a daily tub, shower or sponge bath, or rub down with a rough towel every day; and take a full bath of some sort at least twice a week. (c) Brush teeth twice a day: after breakfast and just before bed. (d) Wash hair at least once a month, and brush well every day. II. In addition to doing the things that make for health, the Girl Scout must know the answers to the following questions: 1. What is the best way to care for your teeth? 2. Why is care for the eyes especially necessary? How are the eyes rested? What are the points to remember about light for work? 3. What is the difference in effect between a hot and cold bath? 4. How can you care for your feet on a hike so that they will not become blistered or over-tired? REFERENCES: "Good Health," F. G. Jewett, Ginn and Co. "How to Get Strong and How to Stay So," William Blaikie, Harper. "Keeping Physically Fit," Wm. J. Cromie, Macmillan. "Exercise and Health," Woods Hutcheson, Outing Pub. Co. "Handbook of Health and Nursing," American School of Home Economics, Chicago. "Food and Health," Helen Kinne and Anna M. Cooley, Macmillan. "Healthy Living," Chas. E. Winslow, Chas E. Merrill Co. [Illustration: HOMEMAKER SYMBOL--CROSSED KEYS] 1. In planning a house and choosing a site for it what things should be considered? 2. Draw the floor plan of an imaginary house or apartment to be built in your locality for a family of four, and list the furnishings for each room. 3. Choose a system for heating and state reasons for choice. 4. How will water be furnished? What precautions should always be taken about the water supply and why? 5. How will the house be lighted? How will it be ventilated? 6. State how the walls and floors will be finished and why? 7. Describe the cook stove and the ice box; tell why they were selected and the best way to keep them clean. 8. List the utensils used in keeping the house clean. 9. State why it is particularly necessary to keep the cellar, closets, cupboards, wash basins, toilets, sinks, clean. Give ways of cleaning each. 10. State the proper way to prepare dishes for washing and the order in which silver, glass, table and kitchen dishes should be washed. 11. How should rugs, mattresses, pillows, upholstered furniture, paper walls, and windows be cleaned? 12. How should winter clothes and blankets be stored during the summer? What should be done with soiled laundry prior to washing? 13. What is the most economical way to buy flour, sugar, cereals, butter and vegetables? How should they be kept in the house? 14. What is the law in your community concerning the disposition of trash, ashes and garbage? How will you care for these things in the house? If there is no law what will you do with them and why? 15. Under what conditions do germs thrive and vermin infest? How can both be kept away? 16. Plan the work in your house for one week giving the daily schedule and covering all necessary points. 17. Tell how to make and use a fireless cooker. Explain what it is good for. 18. Take care of your own bedroom for one month. Report just what you do and how long it takes. REFERENCES: "Housewifery," L. Ray Balderston, Lippincott. "The Home and the Family," Helen Kinne and Anna Cooley, The Macmillan Co. "Foods and Household Management," Helen Kinne and Anna Cooley, Macmillan. "Shelter and Clothing," Helen Kinne and Anna Cooley, Macmillan. "Feeding the Family," M. S. Rose, Macmillan. "Handbook of Food and Diet," American School of Home Economics, Chicago. MAGAZINES: "The House Beautiful," "Ladies Home Journal," "Delineator," "Good Housekeeping." [Illustration: HOME NURSE*** SYMBOL--GREEN CROSS] 1. Describe care of the room under following points: (a) Ventilation heat and sun; (b) Character and amount of furniture; (c) Cleanliness and order; (d) Daily routine; (e) General "atmosphere." 2. Demonstrate bed making with patient in bed. Bed must be made in fifteen minutes. 3. (a) Show how to help a patient in the use of a bedpan. (b) Care of utensils, dishes, linen and their disinfection. 4. Bodily care of patient. Know all the following and be able to demonstrate any two points asked for: (a) Bathing; (b) Rubbing; (c) Changing of body linen; (d) Combing hair; (e) Lifting and changing position; (f) Arranging of supports; (g) Temperature, pulse and respiration; (h) Feeding when helpless. 5. Local applications, hot and cold, (fomentations, compresses etc.) (Demonstrate at least one point). 6. Common household remedies and their use: castor oil, soda, olive oil, epsom salts, aromatic spirits of ammonia. 7. First treatment of some common household emergencies, cramps, earache, headache, cold, chills, choking, nosebleed, and fainting. 8. How to give an enema. 9. Proper food for invalids and serving it. Be able to prepare and serve five of the following. Two foods must be shown to examiner and three may be certified to by mother or other responsible person. 1. Cereal, as oatmeal, gruel; cereal water, as barley water. 2. Toast, toast water, milk toast, cream toast. 3. Plain albumen, albuminized water, albuminized milk. 4. Eggnog, soft cooked egg, poached egg. 5. Pasteurized milk, junket, custard. 6. Beef, mutton, chicken, clam or oyster broth. 7. Fruit beverage, stewed dried fruit, baked apple. 8. Gelatin jellies, chicken jelly. 9. Tea, coffee, cocoa. REFERENCES: "Home Hygiene and Care of the Sick." Red Cross Text by Jane A. Delano, R. N. Revised by Anne H. Strong, R. N., Blakiston, Philadelphia, 1922. "What to do Before the Doctor Comes," Frieda E. Lippert, Lippincott. "Home Nurses Handbook of Practical Nursing," C. A. Aikens, Saunders. "Home Nursing," Louisa C. Lippitt, World Book Co. [Illustration: HORSEWOMAN SYMBOL--STIRRUP] 1. Demonstrate saddling and bridling a saddle horse. 2. Demonstrate riding at a walk, trot and gallop. 3. Demonstrate harnessing correctly in single harness. 4. Demonstrate driving in single harness. 5. What are the rules of the road as to turning out? 6. What are the rules for feeding and watering a horse, and how do these vary according to conditions? 7. What implements are used for grooming a horse? Show how they should be used. 8. Hitch a horse, using the best knot for that purpose. 9. Know principal causes of and how to detect and how to remedy lameness and sore back. 10. Know how to detect and remove a stone from the foot. 11. Know the principal points of a horse, and the different parts of the harness. REFERENCES: "Riding and Driving for Women," B. Beach, Scribner. "Horsemanship," C. C. Fraser. [Illustration: HOSTESS SYMBOL--CUP AND SAUCER] 1. Demonstrate receiving, introducing and bidding guests goodbye. 2. Write notes of invitation for a luncheon, dinner party, and write a letter inviting a friend to make a visit. 3. Give an out of door party or picnic planning entertainment, and prepare and serve refreshments, OR Demonstrate ability to plan for an indoor party, arranging the rooms, a place for wraps, entertainment of guests, serving of refreshments. 4. Set a table and entertain guests for lunch or dinner or afternoon tea and demonstrate the duties of a hostess who has no maid, or one who has a maid, to serve. 5. What are the duties of a hostess when entertaining a house guest for a few days or more? GUESTS: 6. When entertained as a house guest what are some of the necessary things to be remembered? 7. What is a "bread and butter" letter? Write one. 8. When invited to a party, luncheon, dinner, or to make a visit, how should the invitations be acknowledged? Write at least two letters to cover the question. 9. What are the duties of a caller, dinner or party guest as concerns time of arrival, length of stay and leaving? REFERENCES: "Everyday Manners, for American Boys and Girls," by the Faculty of the South Philadelphia High School for Girls, Macmillan, 1922. "Dame Courtesy's Book of Novel Entertainments," E. H. Glover, McClurg. "Hostess of Today," L. H. Larned, Scribner. "Bright Ideas for Entertaining," H. B. Linscott, Jacobs. [Illustration: INTERPRETER SYMBOL--UNITED STATES ARMY EMBLEM] 1. Show ability to converse in a language other than English. 2. Translate quickly and accurately a conversation in a foreign language into English, and English into a foreign language. 3. Be able to write a simple letter in a language other than one's own, subject to be given by examiner. 4. Read a passage from a book or newspaper written in a language other than one's own. 5. Write a clear intelligible letter in a foreign language. [Illustration: JOURNALIST**** SYMBOL--BOTTLE AND PEN] 1. Know how a newspaper is made, its different departments, functions of its staff, how the local news is gathered, how the news of the world is gathered and disseminated--Inquire at newspaper office. 2. What is a news item? 3. What is an editorial? 4. Describe briefly the three important kinds of type-setting used today. 5. Write two articles, not to exceed five hundred words each, on events that come within the observation of the Scouts. For instance give the school athletic events or describe an entertainment for Scouts in church or school or rally. 6. Write some special story about Scoutcraft such as a hike or camping experience. REFERENCES: "Newspaper," G. B. Dibble, Holt. "Handbook of Journalism," N. C. Fowler, Sully. [Illustration: LAUNDRESS SYMBOL--FLAT IRON] 1. What elements are needed to clean soiled clothes? 2. Show a blouse that you have starched and folded, OR Show a skirt and coat you have pressed. 3. How is starch made? How is it prepared for use? 4. What is soap? How is it made? What is soap powder? 5. How can you soften hard water? How are a ringer and a mangle used? 6. Name steps to take in washing colored garments. 7. Should table linen be starched? Why? 8. Why do we run clothes through blueing water? What is blueing? How made? 9. Know the different kinds of irons and how to take care of irons. 10. How to remove stains; ink, fruit, rust, grass, cocoa and grease. Why must stains be removed before laundering? 11. What clothes should be boiled to make them clean? How are flannels washed? What should be done to clothes after drying before they are ironed? REFERENCES: "Saturday Mornings," C. B. Burrell, Dana Estes. "First Aid to the Young Housekeeper," C. T. Herrick, Scribner. "Guide to Laundry Work," M. D. Chambers, Boston Cooking School. "Approved Methods for Home Laundry," Mary Beals Vail, B. S., Proctor Gamble Co. [Illustration: MILLINER SYMBOL--BONNET] 1. Renovate a hat by removing, cleaning and pressing all trimmings and the lining, turn or clean the hat and replace trimmings and lining. 2. Trim a felt hat and make and sew in the lining. 3. Make a gingham, cretonne or straw hat using a wire frame. 4. What is felt and how is it made into hats? 5. What is straw and how is it prepared for millinery purposes? 6. How is straw braid for hats sold? 7. What is meant by "a hand made hat?" 8. Can the shape of a felt or straw hat be materially changed? if so by what process? 9. What kind of thread is best for sewing trimming on to a hat? 10. How is the head measured for ascertaining the head size for a hat? REFERENCES: "Art of Millinery," Anna Ben Yusef, Millinery Trade Pub. Co. [Illustration: MOTORIST**** SYMBOL--A WINGED WHEEL] To qualify for this badge a Scout must be at least eighteen, and must pass the examination which was required for the Motor Corps of the National League for Women's Service. This includes: 1. A certificate of health from a physician. 2. Possessing the First Aide Badge. 3. A diploma from a training course for motorists, such as that run by the Y. M. C. A., with a mark of at least 85 per cent. 4. A driver's license from her State, signed by the Secretary of State. 5. Taking the oath of allegiance. REFERENCE: "The Gasoline Automobile," by Hobbs, Elliott and Consoliver, McGraw, Hill Book Co. Putnam's Automobile Handbook, H. C. Brokaw, Putnam. [Illustration: MUSICIAN SYMBOL--HARP] For pianist, violinist, cellist or singer. 1. Play or sing a scale and know its composition. 2. Write a scale in both the treble and bass clef. 3. Know a half-tone, whole tone, a third, fifth and octave. 4. Be able to distinguish a march from a waltz, and give the time of each. 5. What is a quarter, half and whole note, draw symbols. 6. Name five great composers and one composition of each, including an opera, a piano composition, a song. Two of the foregoing must be American. 7. Play or sing from memory three verses of the Star Spangled Banner. The Battle Hymn of the Republic and America. 8. Play or sing correctly from memory one piece of good music. 9. For instrumentalist: Be able to play at sight a moderately difficult piece and explain all signs and terms in it. For singers: Show with baton how to lead a group in singing compositions written in 3/4 and 4/4 time. 10. What is an orchestra: Name at least five instruments in an orchestra. REFERENCES: "Art of the Singer," W. T. Henderson, Scribner. "How to Listen to Music," H. E. Krehbiel, Scribner. "Orchestral Instruments and What They Do," D. G. Mason, Novello. [Illustration: NEEDLEWOMAN SYMBOL--SPOOL, THREAD AND NEEDLE] 1. Know how to run a seam, overcast, roll and whip, hem, tuck, gather, bind, make a French seam, make buttonhole, sew on buttons, hooks and eyes, darn and patch. Submit samples of each. 2. Show the difference between "straight" and "on the bias," and how to make both. 3. Know the difference between linen, cotton and woolen, and pick out samples of each. 4. Know how thread, silk and needles are numbered and what the numbers indicate. 5. Know how to measure and plan fullness for edging or lace. 6. Know how to lay a pattern on cloth, cut out a simple article of wearing apparel and make same. Use this article to demonstrate as much of question 1 as possible. 7. Knit, either a muffler, sweater or baby's jacket and cap and crochet one yard of lace or make a yard of tatting. 8. Hemstitch or scallop a towel or bureau scarf and work an initial on it in cross stitch. REFERENCES: "Complete Dressmaker," C. E. Laughlin, Appleton. "Art in Needlework," S. F. Day, Scribner. [Illustration: PATHFINDER SYMBOL--A HAND POINTING] 1. Describe the general plan of the city, town or village in which you live, locate the principal shopping, business and residence districts and know how to reach them from any quarter of the city, town or village. Be able to direct a person to the nearest place of worship to which they desire to go, OR Describe in a general way the township or county in which you live giving the principal roads, naming two of the nearest and largest cities or towns, giving their distance from your residence and telling how to reach them. 2. Know the route of the principal surface car and subway lines, OR The name of the nearest railroad division to your residence and four of the principal cities or towns through which it passes within a distance of one hundred miles. 3. Know at least three historic points of interest within the limits of your city, town or village, how to get to them and why they are historic, OR Tell of three things of interest concerning the history of your own community. 4. Know the name and location of the Post Office, Telegraph and Telephone Stations, Public Library, City or Town Hall, one Hospital of good standing, one hotel or inn, three churches, one Protestant, one Catholic, one Synagogue, and the nearest railroad, OR Know the name, location and distance from your home or village of the nearest Library, Hospital, Church, Post Office, Telegraph and Telephone and Railroad Stations. 5. Know the name and location of three buildings or places in your city, town or village, of interest from a point of beauty either of architecture, decoration or surroundings, OR Know and locate three places of interest within ten miles of your home, because of beautiful views or surroundings, OR give directions for taking a walk through beautiful woods, lanes or roads. 6. Draw a map of the district around your home covering an area of one quarter square mile, noting streets, schools and other public buildings, fire alarm boxes, at least one public telephone booth, one doctor's office, one drug store, one provision store, and four points of the compass. Draw to scale, OR Draw a map covering a half square mile of country around your home noting schools and any other public buildings, roads, lanes, points of interest, historic or otherwise, streams, lakes and four cardinal points of the compass. Map must be drawn to scale. 7. Know how to use the fire alarm, how to consult telephone directory, how to call for assistance in case of water leak, accident, burglary, forest fire and how to call the police for any other emergency. 8. Find any of the four cardinal points of the compass by sun or stars, by use of a watch and a cane or stick. REFERENCES: Sections in Handbook on "Woodcraft," and "Measurements and Map-making," and publications of local Historical Societies, Guides and Directories. [Illustration: PHOTOGRAPHER SYMBOL--CAMERA ON STANDARD] 1. Submit six good photographs, interior and out of door, taken, developed and printed by self, OR twelve good photographs taken by self including portraits, animals, out of door and indoor subjects. 2. What constitutes a good picture? 3. Give three rules to be followed in taking interiors, portraits and out of door pictures. 4. Name and describe briefly the processes used in photography. 5. Tell what a camera is and name and describe the principal parts of a camera. 6. What is a film? What is a negative? 7. What position in relation to the sun should a photographer take when exposing a film? 8. Should a shutter be operated slowly? If so, why? 9. What causes buildings in a picture to look as if they were falling? 10. What precautions should be taken when reloading a camera and taking out an exposed film? 11. What is an enlargement? How is it made? 12. What are the results of under exposure and over exposure? 13. What are the results of failing to take the proper camera distance, having improper light and allowing the camera to move? 14. If there is more than one method of exposing a film what determines the method to be used? REFERENCES: "How to Make Good Pictures," Eastman Kodak Company. "The Photo Miniature," such numbers as appear to be needed. "Nature and the Camera," A. R. Dugmore, Doubleday. "Photography for Young People," T. Jenks, Stokes. "Why My Photographs Are Bad," C. M. Taylor, Jacobs. [Illustration: PIONEER*** SYMBOL--AXES] 1. Tell four things that must be considered when choosing a camp site. 2. Know how to use a saw, an axe, a hatchet. 3. Know how to select and fell a tree for building or fuel purposes. Know a fork and sapling and their uses. 4. Build or help three others to build a shack suitable for four occupants. 5. Make a latrine, an incinerator, a cache. 6. Make a fireplace for heating and cooking purposes and cook a simple meal over it. 7. Know how to tell the directions of the wind. 8. Know how to mark a trail. 9. Tell what to do to make water safe for drinking if there is any question as to its purity. REFERENCES: "Campward Ho!" A Manual for Girl Scout Camps, National Headquarters, Girl Scouts, Inc. "Camping and Woodcraft," Horace Kephart, Macmillan. "On the Trail," L. Beard, Scribner. "Vacation Camps for Girls," Jeannette Marks, D. Appleton. [Illustration: ROCK TAPPER[9] SYMBOL--PICK AND SHOVEL] 1. Collect and correctly identify ten rocks found among the glacial boulders. 2. Make photograph or make sketch of glacial boulders. 3. Collect two or three scratched glaciated pebbles or cobblestones in the drift. 4. Make a sketch or photograph of an exposed section of glaciated or scratched bed-rock and note as accurately as you can the direction of the scratches or grooves. REFERENCES: "The Story of Our Continent," N. S. Shaler, Ginn and Co. "The Great Ice Age and Its Relation to the Antiquity of Man," D. Appleton and Co. "A Text Book of Geology," portion of Chapter XXV entitled "The Glacial Epoch in North America,"--D. Appleton and Co. "Physiography for High School," Chapter V entitled, "The Work of Snow and Ice," Henry Holt and Co. "An Introduction to Physical Geography," Chapter VI entitled, "Glaciers," D. Appleton, or any other good text-book of geology or physical geography. "Travels in Alaska," John Muir. [Illustration: SAILOR*** SYMBOL--ANCHOR] Qualify for questions under A, one to eleven, and one other test on rowboat, sailboat, canoe or motor boat. A. GENERAL 1. Swim twenty-five yards with clothes and shoes on, or hold the swimming merit badge. 2. Know sixteen points of the compass. 3. Find any one of the four cardinal points of the compass by sun or stars. 4. Know the rules for right of way. 5. Know how to counteract the effect of current, tide and wind. 6. Demonstrate making a landing, coming along side, making fast, pushing off. 7. What is a calm? What is a squall? What are the sky and water conditions that denote the approach of the latter? 8. Why are squalls dangerous? 9. What are the dangers of moving about or standing in a boat? 10. Tie four knots for use in handling a boat. Prepare, tie and throw a life line a distance of 25 feet. 11. Which is the "port" and which the "starboard" side of the boat, and what color lights represent each. B. ROWBOAT. 1. Demonstrate correct way to step into a rowboat, to boat the oars, feather the oars, turn around, row backward, back water, keep a straight course. 2. Name two types of row boats. 3. Demonstrate rowing alone on a straight course for a period of one-half hour. Keep stroke with another person for the same length of time. 4. Demonstrate sculling or poling. 5. Bail and clean a boat. 6. What does it mean to "trim ship?" C. SAILBOAT. 1. Demonstrate hoisting a sail, taking in a reef, letting out a reef, steering, sailing close to the wind, before the wind, coming about, coming up into the wind. 2. What is meant by tacking? 3. What is the difference between a keel and centerboard type of boat? Tell the advantage of each. 4. Coil the ropes on a sailboat. 5. Name three different types of sailboats. D. CANOE. 1. Where and how should a canoe be placed when not in use? 2. Demonstrate putting a canoe into the water, stepping into it, taking it out, and the technique of bow and stern paddling. 3. Overturn, right and get back into a canoe. 4. Name two standard makes of canoes. 5. What does it mean to make a portage? E. MOTORBOAT. 1. Know how to oil the engine and the best kind of oil with which to oil it. 2. Demonstrate cleaning the engine; cranking the engine. 3. Know how to measure gas in tank, how much gas the tank holds, and how long the engine will run when the tank is full. Know how to judge good gasoline. 4. Why should a motor boat never be left without turning off the gas? State reasons. 5. Be able to rectify trouble with the carburetor. 6. Know proper weight of anchor for boat; how to lower and hoist anchor; how to ground anchor so boat will not drag; know the knot to fasten rope to anchor and rope to boat, and how to throw out anchor. 7. Demonstrate how to coil rope so it will not kink when anchor is thrown out. 8. Know channels and right of way by buoys and lights. REFERENCES: "Harper's Boating Book for Boys," C. J. Davis, Harper. "Boat Sailing," A. J. Kenealy, Outing. [Illustration: SCRIBE SYMBOL--OPEN BOOK] 1. Submit an original short story, an essay or play or poem. 2. Know three authors of prose and their compositions. 3. Mention the names and some works of three novelists, two essayists, three poets, two dramatists of the present century, at least three of them American. [Illustration: SIGNALLER SYMBOL--CROSSED FLAGS] SEMAPHORE 1. Give alphabet correctly in 30 seconds, or less. 2. Give the following abbreviations correctly; AFFIRMATIVE, ACKNOWLEDGE, ATTENTION, ERROR, NEGATIVE, PREPARATORY, ANNULLING, SIGN OF NUMERALS. 3. Send message not previously read, of twenty words, containing three numerals and sent at the rate of 50 letters per minute. Only one error to be allowed. Technique is to be considered and judged. 4. Receive unknown message of twenty words, containing three numerals at the same rate. Two errors to be allowed. Scouts may have someone take message down in writing as they read it, and five minutes in which to rewrite it afterwards. WIGWAG 1. Give alphabet correctly in two and one half minutes or less. 2. Give numerals up to ten correctly. 3. Send message not previously read, of twenty words, containing three numerals, at the rate of ten letters per minute. Only one error allowed; technique and regularity to be considered and judged. 4. Receive unknown message of twenty words, containing three numerals, to be given at the rate of 10 letters per minute--Two errors to be allowed. Conditions for receiving, the same as in Semaphore. BUZZER GENERAL SERVICE CODE 1. Send message of twenty words, not previously read, at the rate of ten letters per minute. Two errors allowed. 2. Receive unknown message of twenty words to be given at the same rate. Two errors allowed. Scouts to be allowed five minutes in which to rewrite message, afterwards. REFERENCES: "How to Signal by Many Methods," J. Gibson, Gale. "Cadet Manual," E. Z. Steever, Lippincott. "Boys' Camp Manual," C. K. Taylor, Century. "Outdoor Signalling," Elbert Wells, Outing Pub. Co. [Illustration: STAR GAZER SYMBOL--STAR GROUP] 1. What is meant by the Solar System? 2. Make a diagram showing the relative positions and movements of the earth, sun and moon. What governs the tide? What causes an eclipse? What is a comet, a shooting star, a sun spot? 3. Name the planets in their order from the sun. Which planet is nearest the earth and give its distance? 4. How fast does light travel? 5. What is the difference between planets and fixed stars and name three of the latter. 6. What is a constellation? Name and be able to point out six. Name two constellations which are visible throughout the year. 7. Draw a chart of the Big Dipper and Cassiopeia and the North Star at intervals of three hours through the night using a fixed frame and drawing from the same spot. 8. Observe a sunrise and a sunset. 9. What is the Milky-Way? Give its course through the heavens. 10. What is a morning star? What is an evening star? 11. Explain zenith and nadir. 12. What is the Aurora Borealis? Have you seen it? REFERENCES: "Field Book of Stars," W. T. Olcott, Putnam. "The Book of Stars," R. F. Collins, D. Appleton. "Around the Year With the Stars," Garrett P. Serviss, Harper. "Monthly Evening Sky Map," Barrett, 360 Fulton Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. "The Star People," Gaylord Johnson, Macmillan 1921. Especially for Younger Scouts. "The Call of the Stars," John, R. Kilfax. [Illustration: SWIMMER SYMBOL--LIFE BUOY] The following is identical with the life-saving test for Juniors of the American Red Cross. If the test is given by one of the various examiners of the First Aid Service of the American Red Cross the Scout may wear in addition to the regular Scout Badge the Junior Life Saving Badge. It is recommended that Girl Scout troops work toward the establishment of Junior Life Saving Crews, directions for the formation of which may be secured from any American Red Cross Division. I. Pass the swimmer's test for American Red Cross as follows: a. Swim 100 yards, using two or more strokes. b. Dive properly from a take-off. c. Swim on back 50 feet. d. Retrieve objects at reasonable depth from surface (at least 8 feet). II. Life Savers must pass the following test, winning at least 75 points. The value in points for each section of the test is given in parenthesis after it: 1. Carry a person of own weight 10 yards, by: a. Head carry. (10 points). b. Cross Chest Carry. (10 points). c. Hair or two point carry, or repeat cross chest carry. (9 points). d. Tired Swimmer's carry. (5 points). 2. Break three grips, turning after break, bring subject to surface, and start ashore: a. Wrist hold. (8 points). b. Front neck hold (10 points). c. Back neck hold. (10 points). 3. Make surface dive and recover object from bottom. (10 points). 4. Demonstrate the Schaefer method of inducing artificial respiration. (18 points). 5. Disrobe in water from middy blouse, skirt or bloomers, and camp shoes, and then swim one hundred yards, not touching shore from time entering water. (10 points). [Illustration: TELEGRAPHER SYMBOL--TELEGRAPH POLE] Either: a. Telegraphy, 1. Send 22 letters per minute using a sounder and American Morse Code. 2. Receive 25 letters per minute and write out the message in long hand or on a typewriter directly from sound. No mistakes allowed. OR b. Wireless. Pass examination for lowest grade wireless operator according to U. S. N. regulations. REFERENCE: "Harper's Beginning Electricity," D. C. Shafer, Harper. [Illustration: ZOOLOGIST SYMBOL--SEAHORSE] I. To pass this test a Scout must be able to tell in a general way the differences between plants and animals, the different kinds of animals, Invertebrates and Vertebrates, and among the Vertebrates to distinguish between Fishes, Amphibia, Reptiles, Birds and Mammals. II. She must also pass the test on Mammals and the test on at least one other group: either Invertebrates, Fishes, Amphibia, Reptiles or Birds, (For this see special test under Bird Hunter). A. MAMMALS 1. Describe and give life history of ten wild mammals personally observed and identified. 2. Name two mammals that kill fruit trees by girdling them. 3. Mention three mammals that destroy the farmer's grain. 4. State game laws of your State which apply to mammals. 5. Name and locate one great game preserve in the United States and mention five game mammals protected there. B. REPTILES 1. Give the life history of one reptile. 2. Give names of three Turtles that you have identified in the open. 3. What is the only poisonous Lizard in the United States? 4. Name and describe the poisonous Snakes of your State. C. AMPHIBIANS 1. Describe the life history of the frog or the toad. 2. Describe the wonderful power of changing color shown by the common Tree-frog. 3. What is the difference in the external appearance of a salamander and a lizard? 4. Give a list of five Amphibians that you have identified in the open. D. FISHES 1. Describe the habits of feeding and egg-laying in one of our native fishes. 2. Mention a common fish that has no scales, one that has very small scales, and one that has comparatively large scales. 3. Name five much-used food fishes of the sea, and five fresh-water food-fishes. 4. What are some necessary characteristics of a game-fish? Mention a well-known salt-water game fish, and two fresh-water ones. 5. Describe the nest of some local fish, giving location, size, etc. E. INVERTEBRATES (EITHER of the following) a. Insects and Spiders 1. How may mosquitoes be exterminated? 2. Collect, preserve and identify ten butterflies, five moths, ten other insects, and three spiders. 3. Describe the habit that certain ants have of caring for plant-lice or aphids which secrete honey-dew. 4. Describe the life-history of one of our solitary wasps. (See "Wasps Social and Solitary," by George W. and Elizabeth G. Peckham; Houghton Mifflin Co.) 5. Describe the life of a hive or colony of honey bees. (See "The Life of the Bee," by Maurice Maeterlinck, Dodd Mead Co.) b. Sea Shore Life 1. Name five invertebrates used as food and state where they are found. 2. What is the food of the starfish? How are starfish destroyed? 3. Name twenty invertebrates which you have seen and give the locality where they were found. 4. Name five invertebrates that live in the water only and five that burrow in the mud or sand. 5. What invertebrate was eaten by the Indians and its shell used in making wampum? Where have you seen this animal? GENERAL REFERENCES A. MAMMALS "Life-Histories of Northern Animals," 2 vols., Ernest Thompson Seton, Scribner. "American Animals," Stone, Witmer and Wm. E. Cram, Doubleday Page. "American Natural History, Vol. I, Mammals," Wm. T. Hornaday, Scribner. "Squirrels and Other Fur-Bearers," John Burroughs, Houghton, Mifflin. "Kindred of the Wild," C.G.D. Roberts, Doubleday Page. "Animals, Their Relation and Use to Man," C.D. Wood, Ginn and Co. "Popular Natural History," J.G. Wood, Winston. B. REPTILES "Reptile Book," Raymond L. Ditmars, Doubleday Page. "The Poisonous Snakes of North America," Leonhard Stejnegar, Report U. S. National Museum, 1893. C. AMPHIBIANS "The Frog Book," Mary Cynthia Dickerson, Doubleday Page. "Manual of Vertebrates of the Northern United States," David Starr Jordon, A.C. McClurg Pub. Co. "Nature Study and Life," Clifton F. Hodge, Ginn and Co. D. FISHES "American Food and Game Fishes," David Starr Jordan and Barton W. Evermann, Doubleday Page. "The Care of Home Aquaria," Raymond C. Osburn, New York Zoological Society. "The Story of the Fishes," James Newton Baskett, D. Appleton and Co. E. INVERTEBRATES a. Insects and Spiders "Butterfly Guide," W. J. Holland, Doubleday Page.--(For beginners). "Our Common Butterflies," Frank E. Lutz, (Guide Leaflet No. 38, American Museum of Natural History). "How to Collect and Preserve Insects," Frank E. Lutz, (Guide Leaflet No. 39, American Museum of Natural History). "The Moth Book," W. J. Holland, Doubleday Page. "The Butterfly Book," W. J. Holland, Doubleday Page. "The Spider Book," J. H. Comstock, Doubleday Page. "Moths and Butterflies," Mary C. Dickerson, Ginn and Co. "Manual for the Study of Insects," J. H. and A. B. Comstock, Comstock Publishing Co. "The Wonders of Instinct," Jean Henri Fabre, Century Co. "Field Book of Insects," Frank E. Lutz, Putnam. b. Sea Shore Life "The Sea-Beach at Ebb Tide," A. F. Arnold, The Century Co. "Sea-Shore Life," A. G. Mayer, (New York Zoological Society 1906). "Introduction to Zoology," C. B. and G. C. Davenport, Macmillan Co., 1900. III. GROUP BADGES The Scout who follows one line of interest sufficiently long to qualify in several related subjects may take a Group Badge signifying proficiency in the general field. [Illustration: 1. SCOUT NEIGHBOR (any four) Citizen*** Health Guardian*** Economist Business Woman*** Telegrapher Interpreter Motorist**** Canner] [Illustration: 3. SCOUT AIDE[10] First Aide*** Home Nurse*** Homemaker Health Winner Health Guardian*** Child Nurse*** or Cook] [Illustration: 4. WOODCRAFT SCOUT (any three) Athlete*** Motorist**** Horsewoman Sailor Swimmer Pioneer Pathfinder] [Illustration: 5. SCOUT NATURALIST] To earn this Badge a Scout must have passed three of the tests of Bird Hunter, Flower Finder, Rock Tapper, Star Gazer or Zoologist. She must also pass the following brief test: 1. What sorts of things are included in Nature Study? 2. What are the other names for living and non-living objects? 3. Read one of the following general books on Nature Study. GENERAL NATURE STUDY REFERENCES: "Handbook of Nature Study," Anna Botsford Comstock, Comstock Publishing Co. (Manual for Leaders). "Nature Study and Life," Clifton F. Hodge, Ginn and Co. "The Story Book of Science," J. Henri Fabre, Century Co. "Leaf and Tendril," John Burroughs, Houghton Mifflin. "Wake Robin," John Burroughs, Houghton Mifflin. "Natural History of Selbourne," Gilbert White. "Travels in Alaska," John Muir. "My First Summer in the Sierras," John Muir. [Illustration: 6. LAND SCOUT Gardener Farmer Dairy Maid Bee Keeper] IV. GOLDEN EAGLET SYMBOL--A GOLD EAGLET PIN OR PENDANT [Illustration] Qualifications: Only First Class Scouts are eligible for this, the highest award offered to Girl Scouts. To obtain this a girl must have been given the Medal of Merit and in addition have won twenty-one Proficiency Badges, of which fifteen must be: Athlete*** Bird Hunter or Flower Finder or Zoologist Citizen*** Cook Dressmaker Economist First Aide*** Health Guardian*** Health Winner Homemaker Home Nurse*** Hostess Laundress Child Nurse*** Pioneer V. SPECIAL MEDALS [Illustration: ATTENDANCE STAR] To earn this a Scout must attend every troop meeting for a year. A year is counted as one meeting a week for eight months, or two meetings a week for four months. 1. The gold star is given for attendance at all regular troop meetings held during a period of one year. Punctuality is required and no excuses allowed. 2. The silver star is given for attendance at 90 per cent of all regular troop meetings. 3. The attendance badge may be given only to a girl who has belonged to the organization for one year; the badges therefore denote how many years a girl has been a Scout. [Illustration: LIFE SAVING MEDALS] 1. The Bronze Cross is given as the highest possible award for gallantry, and may be won only when the claimant has shown special heroism or has faced extraordinary risk of life. 2. The Silver Cross is awarded for saving life with considerable risk to oneself. 3. These two medals are worn over the right pocket. 4. Applications must be made by the girl's Captain, who should send to National Headquarters, through the Local Council, if there is one, a full account with written evidence from two witnesses of the deed. [Illustration: MEDAL OF MERIT] 1. The Medal of Merit is designed for the Scout who does her duty exceptionally well, though without grave risk to herself. 2. This medal is worn over the right pocket. 3. Only registered Scouts are entitled to this medal. 4. Application for this medal should be made by the girl's Captain, who should send to National Headquarters, through the Local Council, if there is one, a full account of the circumstances upon which the claim is based. [Illustration: THANKS BADGE] 1. The Thanks Badge may be given to anyone to whom a Scout owes gratitude for assistance in promoting Scouting. Every Girl Scout anywhere in the whole world when she sees the Thanks Badge, recognizes that the person who wears it is a friend and it is her duty to salute and ask if she can be of service to the wearer of the badge. 2. The Thanks Badge may be worn on a chain or ribbon. 3. The approval of National Headquarters must be obtained before the Thanks Badge is presented to anyone. Applications may be sent to National Headquarters by any registered Scout (whether Captain, Lieutenant, or Girl Scout) giving the name of the person to whom the badge is to be given and the circumstances which justify the award. Unless the badge is to be presented to the Captain herself, her recommendation is required. SCHOLARSHIP BADGE; For this see Blue Book of Rules, Edition, March 1922, p-4. VI. GIRL SCOUT OFFICERS AND CLASS INSIGNIA [Illustration: CAPTAIN'S PIN] [Illustration: LIEUTENANT'S PIN] [Illustration: TENDERFOOT PIN] [Illustration: SECOND-CLASS BADGE] [Illustration: FIRST-CLASS BADGE] [Illustration: CORPORAL] [Illustration: PATROL LEADER] [Illustration: EX-PATROL LEADER] [Illustration: VII. FLOWER CRESTS FOR TROOPS] FOOTNOTES: [8] Any Captain can form a Junior Audubon Club by applying to "The National Association of Audubon Societies," 1974 Broadway, N. Y. City. The club dues are ten cents annually, per member, and must be paid for by the Club. If 25 or more belong, the Magazine "Bird Lore" will be sent. [9] Note: Scouts in non-glacial regions may apply to Headquarters for other tests in preparation. [10] This must be passed on by National Headquarters. SECTION XIX REFERENCE READING FOR GIRL SCOUTS The following books have been selected for the Girl Scouts with two ideas in mind: first, to list some of the best books of the world, with which all persons should be familiar, and second, to give books that should easily be available in all parts of the country. In some cities the Public Libraries have "Girl Scout Shelves." Has your library one? In some places the Libraries have Reading Clubs for young people, conducted by the boys and girls themselves under the guidance of specially trained librarians who know just how to help bring the right book to hand, on any subject a Scout would be interested in. In Manhattan there are no less than thirty such clubs in connection with the various district libraries. Why not have one of these in your town? The American Library Association, whose headquarters are in Chicago, Ill., at 78 East Washington Street, will help to bring books to rural districts and places without regular public libraries. Write to them for help if you need it. The Congressional Library may be called upon at any time for bibliography on any special topic. The books in this section are in addition to the special references for Proficiency Tests in Section XVIII. HANDBOOKS OF ALLIED ORGANIZATIONS Boy Scouts of America, Handbook for Boys, 200 Fifth Ave., N. Y. C. Boy Scout Camp Book, Edward Cave, Doubleday and Page. The Book of the Camp Fire Girls, 31 East 17th Street, New York City. Girl Guiding, Sir Robert Baden-Powell, C. Arthur Pearson, Ltd., London. Scouting for Boys, Sir Robert Baden-Powell, C. Arthur Pearson, Ltd., London. Woodcraft Manual for Boys and Woodcraft Manual for Girls by Ernest Thompson Seton, Doubleday and Page. ADVENTURE Robinson Crusoe, Daniel DeFoe. Jim Davis, John Masefield. A Woman Tenderfoot: Two Little Savages: Ernest Thompson Seton and Grace Gallatin. David Balfour, Kidnapped, Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson. Around the World in Eighty Days, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, The Mysterious Island, Jules Verne. Swiss Family Robinson, Wyss. ANIMAL STORIES Jungle Books, First and Second; Just So Stories; Rudyard Kipling. The Call of the Wild, Jack London. Bob, Son of Battle, Ollivant. Wild Animals I Have Known, Ernest Thompson Seton. Black Beauty, Sewell. Lad, a Dog; Albert Payson Terhune. FAIRY AND FOLK TALES Fairy Tales, Hans Christian Anderson--Mrs Edgar Lucas' Edition. Arabian Nights. Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens, James M. Barrie. Granny's Wonderful Chair, F. Browne. Davy and the Goblin, Guy Wetmore Carryl. Celtic Fairy Tales, J. Jacobs. Norse Fairy Tales, Sir George Dasent. Folk Tales of Flanders, Jean De Bosschere. Fairy Tales, Grimm Bros., Mrs. Lucas, Editor. Uncle Remus, His Songs and Sayings, Joel Chandler Harris. Mopse the Fairy, Jean Ingelow. Water Babies, Charles Kingsley. Wonderful Adventures of Nils, Selma Lagerlöf. Blue, Red, Green and Brown Fairy Books, Andrew Lang. Pinocchio, C. Lorenzini. Back of the North Wind; Double Story; The Princess and Curdie; The Princess and the Goblin; George MacDonald. Czecho-Slovak Fairy Tales, Parker Fillmore. Ting a Ling Tales; The Queen's Museum and Other Fanciful Tales, Frank Stockton. HISTORY AND PERIOD NOVELS The Story of France, Mary MacGregor. The Little Book of the War, Eva March Tappan. Story of the World, Elizabeth O'Neill. Story of the War for Young People, F. A. Kummer, Century 1919. Story of the Great War, Roland Usher. Story of a Pioneer, Anna Howard Shaw. Old Timers in the Colonies, Charles C. Coffin. The Boys of '76, Charles C. Coffin. Drum-Beat of the Nation, Charles C. Coffin. Redeeming the Republic, Charles C. Coffin. Lafayette, We Come! Rupert S. Holland. Historic Events of Colonial Days, Rupert S. Holland. History of England, Rudyard Kipling. Hero Tales from American History, Lodge and Roosevelt. Famous Scouts, Charles H. Johnston. Famous Frontiersmen and Heroes of the Border, Charles H. Johnston. Boy's Life of Theodore Roosevelt, Herman Hagedorn. Boy's Life of Abraham Lincoln, Helen Nicolay. American Hero Stories, Eva March Tappan. A Gentleman of France, Weyman. A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens. Cardigan, Robert Chambers. Deerslayer, Fenimore Cooper. Fortunes of Nigel, Walter Scott. Henry Esmond, William Makepeace Thackeray. Hugh Wynne, Weir Mitchell. Ivanhoe, Walter Scott. Janice Meredith, Paul Leicester Ford. Joan of Arc, Laura E. Richards. Last of the Mohicans, Fenimore Cooper. Maid at Arms, Robert Chambers. Man Without a Country, Edward Everett Hale. Master Simon's Garden, Caroline Meigs. Pool of Stars, Caroline Meigs. Master Skylark, Bennett. Merry Lips, Beulah Marie Dix. Otto of Silver Hand, Howard Pyle. Quentin Durward, Walter Scott. Ramona, Helen Hunt Jackson. Rewards and Fairies, Rudyard Kipling. Richard Carvel, Winston Churchill. Soldier Rigdale, Beulah Marie Dix. The Crisis, Winston Churchill. The Perfect Tribute, M. S. Andrews. The Prince and the Pauper, Mark Twain. The Refugees, Conan Doyle. The Scarlet Pimpernel, Baroness Orczy. The Spartan, Caroline Snediker. The Three Musketeers, Alexandre Dumas. The White Company, Conan Doyle. Two Little Confederates, Thomas Nelson Page. Via Crucis, Marion Crawford. Westward Ho, Charles Kingsley. A Yankee at King Arthur's Court, Mark Twain. MYTH AND LEGEND Story of Roland, James Baldwin. The Sampo (Finnish), James Baldwin. The Story of Siegfried, James Baldwin. Children of the Dawn, (Greek), Elsie Buckley. Pilgrim's Progress, John Bunyan. The Stories of Norse Heroes, Wilmot Buxton. Don Quixote, Cervantes. Stories of Charlemagne and the Twelve Peers of France, A. J. Church. Greek Tragedies, Church. Adventures of Odysseus and The Tale of Troy, Padraic Colum. Undine, De la Motte Fouqué. Sintram and His Companions, De la Motte Fouqué. Tanglewood Tales, Nathaniel Hawthorne. The Wonderbook, Nathaniel Hawthorne. Rip Van Winkle, Washington Irving. Heroes, Charles Kingsley. Robin Hood, Howard Pyle. The Story of the Champions of the Round Table, Howard Pyle. The Story of the Grail and the Passing of Arthur, Howard Pyle. The Story of King Arthur and His Knights, Howard Pyle. The Story of Sir Launcelot and His Companions, Howard Pyle. NONSENSE Goops, Gillett Burgess. Inklings for Thinklings, Susan Hale. Child's Primer of Natural History, Oliver Herford. The Nonsense Book, Edward Lear. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll. Through the Looking Glass, Lewis Carroll. The Hunting of the Snark, Lewis Carroll. Nonsense Anthology, Carolyn Wells. Parody Anthology, Carolyn Wells. NOVELS AND STORIES Aldrich, Thomas Bailey; Marjorie Daw. Austen, Jane; Pride and Prejudice. Bacon, Josephine Daskam; Ten to Seventeen, Madness of Philip. Barrie, James N.; Little Minister, Little White Bird, Sentimental Tommy. Bjornson, Bjornstjerne; A Happy Boy, Arne, A Fisher Lassie, Synove Solbaken. Blackmore, R. W.; Lorna Doone. Bronté, Charlotte; Jane Eyre. Brunner, H. C.; Short Sixes. Chesterton, Gilbert K.; The Club of Queer Trades, the Innocence of Father Brown. Collins, Wilkie; The Moonstone. Craik, D. M.; (Miss Mulock) John Halifax, Gentleman. Crawford, Marion; Marietta, Mr. Isaacs, the Roman Singer. Daskam, Josephine; Smith College Stories, Sister's Vocation. Davis, Richard Harding; Soldiers of Fortune, Van Bibber. Deland, Margaret; Tales of Old Chester. Eliot, George; Mill on the Floss. Farnol, Jeffrey; The Broad Highway. Fox, John; Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come, Trail of the Lonesome Pine. Green, Anna Katherine; The Leavenworth Case, The Filigree Ball. Haggard, Rider; King Solomon's Mines. Holmes, Sherlock; Hound of the Baskervilles. Hope, Anthony; Rupert of Hentzau, The Prisoner of Zenda. Hornung; Adventures of Raffles, the Gentleman Burglar. Jacobs, W. W.; Light Freights, Many Cargoes. Johnson, Owen; The Varmint. Kipling, Rudyard; Captains Courageous, Soldiers Three, Wee Willie Winkle, Kim, The Naulakha, The Light That Failed. Lincoln, Joseph; Captain Erie. McCarthy, Justin; If I Were King. Merriman, Henry Seton; Dust, With Edged Tools. Meredith, Nicholson; In the Bishop's Carriage. Poe, Edgar Allen; Tales, The Gold Bug. Reade, Charles; The Cloister and the Hearth, Foul Play. Rinehart, Mary Roberts; The Amazing Interlude. Smith, F. Hopkinson; Fortunes of Oliver Horne, Colonel Carter of Cartersville. Stowe, Harriet Beecher; Little Pussy Willow, Uncle Tom's Cabin. Stockton, Frank; Rudder Grange, The Lady or the Tiger, Casting Away of Mrs. Leeks and Mrs. Aleshine. Tarkington, Booth; Monsieur Beaucaire, Gentleman from Indiana, Seventeen, Penrod, Penrod and Sam. Wells, Carolyn; The Clue, The Gold Bag, A Chain of Evidence, The Maxwell Mystery. White, Edward Stewart; The Blazed Trail. Wister, Owen; The Virginian. Woolson, Constance F.; Anne. Alcott, Louisa M.; Eight Cousins, Little Women, Little Men, Rose in Bloom, etc. Burnett, Frances Hodgson; Little Lord Fauntleroy, Sarah Crewe, etc. Coolidge, Susan; Clover, In the High Valley, What Katy Did and other Katy Books. Craik, Mrs.; (Miss Mulock); The Little Lame Prince. Cummins, Maria Susanna; The Lamplighter. Dodge, Mary Mapes; Donald and Dorothy, Hans Brinker and the Silver Skates. Ewing, Juliana; Jackanapes, Six to Sixteen. Hale, C. P.; Peterkin Papers. Hughes, Thomas; Tom Brown's School Days. Jackson, Helen Hunt; Nelly's Silver Mine. Jordan, Elizabeth; May Iverson, Her Book. Nesbit, E.; The Wouldbegoods, The Phoenix and the Carpet. Ouida (de la Ramee); Bimbi Stories. Richards, Laura E.; Hildegarde Series, Margaret Montford Series. Shaw, F. E.; Castle Blair. Spyri, J.; Heidi. Twain, Mark; Huckleberry Finn, Tom Sawyer, etc. Warner, Susan; The Wide Wide World. Wiggin, Kate Douglas; The Birds' Christmas Carol, Polly Oliver's Problems, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. GIRL SCOUT STORIES Abbott, Jane; Keineth, Larkspur. Blanchard, Amy E.; A Girl Scout of Red Rose Troop. Widdemer, Margaret; Winona's Way and other Winona Books. POETRY Verse for Patriots, Jean Broadhurst and Clara Lawton Rhodes. Golden Staircase, (An Anthology), L. Chisholm. Lyra Heroica, William Ernest Henley. Blue Book of Poetry, Andrew Lang. Story Telling Poems, F. J. Olcot. Book of Famous Verse, Agnes Repplier. Home Book of Verse for Young Folks, Burton Egbert Stevenson. Child's Garden of Verse, Robert Louis Stevenson. Children's Book of Ballads, Mary W. Tileston. Golden Numbers, Kate Douglas Wiggin. WONDERS OF SCIENCE Magic of Science, Collins. The Story Book of Science, Jean Henri Fabre, Century. Field, Forest and Farm, Jean Henri Fabre, Century. In the Once Upon a Time, Lillian Gask. Book of the Ocean, Ingersoll. Careers of Danger and Daring, Cleveland Moffett. Science at Home, Russell. Wonders of Science, Eva March Tappan. The Book of Wonders. Magazines: Popular Science, Popular Mechanics, Scientific American, The National Geographic. FOR CAPTAINS, LIEUTENANTS, COMMISSIONERS AND OTHER GIRL SCOUT OFFICERS After a thorough study of Scouting for Girls, the authorized American Handbook, Scout Captains and Lieutenants are urged to read the following list of allied Handbooks for Leaders as containing many practical hints for workers with young people, and emphasizing the essential unity of these movements. A study of these manuals will bring out very clearly the fact that though our methods of approach and phraseology may differ in certain instances, our ultimate aim and our broad general principles are precisely the same. The books in the following list which have been starred are recommended as particularly practical for all students and friends of young people. They represent the latest thought of the greatest authorities on the subjects most closely allied with the sympathetic study of adolescence. It is impossible to isolate a study of the girlhood of America from the kindred topics of women in industry and politics, the growth of the community spirit, the present theories of education, and in general a brief survey of economics, sociology and psychology. Many of these titles appear technical and dry, but the books have been carefully selected with a view to their readable and stimulating qualities, and no one need be a profound student in order to understand and appreciate them. It is especially advisable that Leaders in the Girl Scout organization should be reasonably well informed as to the principal social movements of the day so as to relate the effective organization of the young people of the country with corresponding progress along other lines. The more broadly cultivated our Captains and Councillors become, the more vital and enduring will be the work of the Girl Scouts, and this breadth of view cannot be obtained from the knowledge and practice of what might be called the "technique of Scouting" alone. LEADERS' HANDBOOK OF ALLIED ORGANIZATIONS The Boy Scout Movement Applied by the Church. Richardson-Loomis, Scribners. Girls Clubs, Helen Ferris. E. P. Dutton and Co., 1919. Suggestions for programs, community cooperation, practical methods and helps in organization. Bibliography. The Girl Guides. Rules, Policy and Organization, Annual Senior Guides, Rules, Policy and Organization, 1918. Both official manuals for Guiders. Nat. Hdqrs. Girl Guides. 76 Victoria Street. London, S. W. 1. (1) Handbook for Scout Masters, 200 Fifth Avenue, New York City. (2) Community Boy Leadership--A Manual for Scout Executives. Model Treasurer's Book for Girls' Clubs. National League of Women Workers, 25 cents. Scoutmastership, Sir Robert Baden-Powell, Putnam, 1920. The Girl Reserves. Y. W. C. A. Association Press. 600 Lexington Avenue, New York City. Manual of Leaders, 1921. PRACTICAL AND GENERAL READING Abbott, Edith; Women in Industry, Appleton. Addams, Jane; Twenty Years at Hull House, Spirit of Youth in the City Streets, A New Conscience and an Ancient Evil, Macmillan. *Angell, Emmett D.; Play. *Bancroft, Jessie H.; Games for the Playground, Home, School and Gymnasium. Macmillan. *Burchenal, Elizabeth; Dances of the People--Shirmer. *Byington, Margaret; What Social Workers Should Know About Their Own Communities. Russell Sage Foundation, N. Y. Daggett, Mabel Potter; Women Wanted. George H. Doran. A book about women in all walks of life, as affected by the war. *Dewey, John; Schools of Tomorrow, School and Society, E. P. Dutton. Showing the growth of the "Scout Idea" in our modern educational methods. Practical and stimulating. *Douglass, H. Paul; The Little Town, Macmillan. The latest and best treatment of rural social conditions. Especially recommended for Scout leaders in localities outside the great cities. Hall, G. Stanley; Adolescence, 2 Volumes, 1907. See also "Youth", summary volume, by same author, who did pioneer work in the field. *Hoerle, Helen, and Salzberg, Florence B.; the Girl and the Job, Henry Holt, $1.50. Gilman, Charlotte Perkins; Women in Economics, In This Our World, A Man Made World, Concerning Children--All: Small and Maynard. The most brilliant American writer on the woman movement. Sound economics and good psychology cleverly presented. James, William; Principles of Psychology, 2 vols. The psychologist who wrote like a novelist. Chapters of special interest: Habit, Instinct, Will, Emotions and The Stream of Consciousness. Talks to Teachers on Psychology, and to Students on Some of Life's Ideals. Memories and Studies, especially essay on the Moral Equivalents of War--All: Henry Holt and Co. Key, Ellen; The Century of the Child. *Lovejoy, Esther; The House of the Good Neighbor, Macmillan, 1919. Social and Medical Work in France during the war by the President of the Women's International Medical Association. *MacDougall, William; Social Psychology, Luce and Co. Study of how people act and feel in a group. Mill, John Stuart; The Subjection of Women. Frederick Stokes. *Norsworthy, Naomi, and Whitley: The Psychology of Childhood, Macmillan, 1919. Best and latest general child psychology. Parsons, Elsie Clews: Social Control, Social Freedom, The Old Fashioned Woman, The Family. All: Putnam. *Patrick, G. T. W.; Psychology of Relaxation. Houghton Mifflin. The necessity for and guidance of the play instinct. *Perry, Clarence A.; Community Center Activities. Russell Sage Foundation, New York City. Pillsbury, W. B.; Essentials of Psychology, Macmillan. Good, brief treatment of general psychology for popular reading. *Playground and Recreation Association of America Publications: What the Playground Can Do for Girls, Games Every Child Should Know, Folk and National Dances, The Home Playground. Headquarters 1 Madison Avenue, New York City. *Puffer, J. Adam; The Boy and His Gang. Houghton Mifflin. Putnam, Emily; The Lady. Schreiner, Olive; Woman and Labour. Sharp, Cecil J.; One Hundred English Folksongs. Charles H. Ditson and Co. *Slattery, Margaret; The Girl in Her Teens, The Girl and Her Religion, The American Girl and Her Community, The Woman's Press. *Thorndike, Edward L.; Individuality, Riverside Educational Monographs, Houghton Mifflin. What constitutes the "average person." The danger of "sizing up" people too rapidly. *Terman, Lewis; The Hygiene of the Child, Houghton Mifflin. Trotter, W.; Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War, Fisher Unwin. How "public opinion" exerts its influence on conduct. Wallas, Graham; Human Nature in Politics, and The Great Society, Our Social Heritage, Macmillan. Ward, Lester F.; Psychic Factors of Civilization and Applied Sociology. Ginn and Co. Psychological interpretation of civilization. *Woods, Robert A.; Young Working Girls, Houghton Mifflin. CAMPING AND HIKING Campward Ho!, The Camp Manual for Girl Scouts contains a full and annotated bibliography. The following is an additional list. The Boy Camp Manual, Charles Keen Taylor. Camping and Outing Activities, Cheley-Baker. Games, Songs, Pageants, Plays, Water Sports, etc. Camp Cookery, Horace Kephart, Macmillan Co. The Camp Fire Girls' Vacation Book, Camp Fire Girls, New York City. Camping and Woodcraft (2 vols.) Horace Kephart, Macmillan. Camp Kits and Camp Life, Charles Stedman Hanks. Camping Out, Warren Miller, Geo Doran Co. Caravanning and Camping-out, J. Harris Stone--Herbert Jenkins, Ltd., 12 Arundel Place, London. Harper's Camping and Scouting, Joseph Adams, Harper Bros. Shelters, Shacks and Shanties, D. C. Beard, Scribners. Illustrated. Summer in a Girls' Camp, Anna Worthington Coale, Century. Swimming and Watermanship, L. de B. Handley, Macmillan Co. Touring Afoot, Dr. C. P. Fordyce, N. Y. Outing Publishing Co. Wilderness Homes, Oliver Kamp, Outing Publishing Co. GOVERNMENT BULLETINS AND HOW TO GET THEM 1. The publications of all departments of the United States Government are in the custody of the Superintendent of Documents, Washington, D. C. Price lists of various subjects are sent free. The following list of subjects will be found especially useful in preparing for many of the proficiency tests. The numbers given are the official ones by which the catalogs of prices and special titles may be ordered: (11) Foods and Cookery. (16) Farmers' Bulletins. (31) Education. (38) Animal Industry. (39) Birds and Wild Animals. (41) Insects (including household and farm pests, and bees). (43) Forestry. (44) Plants. (50) American History and Biography. (51) Health. (53) Maps. (54) Political Science. (55) National Museums and National Academy of Science. (67) Immigration. (68) Farm Management. 2. The Children's Bureau of the U. S. Dept. of Labor has a special list of articles on Child and Infant Care and Health. Write direct to the Bureau for these. 3. For State publications on Health, Education, etc., apply to Secretary of State if special officer in charge is unknown. 4. Apply to town hall or special departments for city documents on health, child care, education, etc. 5. The following organizations publish bulletins and cheap authoritative books and pamphlets for general information on health, first aid, child care and other topics of interest to Girl Scouts. The Red Cross National Headquarters, Washington, D. C. The Metropolitan Insurance Company, 1 Madison Avenue, N. Y. C. Child Health Organization, 370 Seventh Avenue, Miss Sally Lucas Jean, Director. The Posture League of America, 1 Madison Avenue, N. Y. C. INDEX Accidents, First Aid for 164 ff Water 191 ff Act to Establish Flag 69 Adam 456 Adventure, books of 540 Africa 27 Agassiz 455 Alaska 454 Alcott, Louisa 23 Allied Organizations, Handbooks of 540 Alignments 92 Alligator 429 "America" 74, 75 "America the Beautiful" 66 American Museum of Natural History 373 ff Amphibians 425 "Anacreon in Heaven" 74 Animal Stories 540 Aphids 449 Apoplexy, care of 186 ff Aquarium 435 Arnold, Sarah Louise 106 Artist test 499 Aspen 395 Asphyxiation, prevention of 197 ff Asters 381 At ease 87 Athlete test 499 Attendance stars 536 Attention 85 Audubon Society 425 Australia 27 Axe, use of 326 ff Azalea 383 Background 40 Back step 89 Baden-Powell 1 ff Balsam fir 390 Bandages, making of 204 ff Barnacles 442 Bathroom, care of 119 "Battle Hymn of the Republic" 77 Beach fleas 442 Beaver 370 Bedroom, care of 119 Beekeeper test 500 Birds 407 ff Bird baths 424 Birds, economic value of 415 ff Bird Hunter test 500 Bird Woman 21 Biscuit Loaf 363 Bites, care of 190, ff Black Eyed Susan 383, 385 Blood Root 381 Blue Bird 409 Blue Flag 383 Blue-tailed Lizard 430 Bobolink 415 Bog Potato 288 Border, flowers for 464 ff Boulders 453 Bouncing Bet 383 Bowline, knot 488 ff Box Turtle 430 Brandywine, battle of 469 Bread 363 Breakfast 133 ff Broiled Fish 361 Brown, Thomas Edward 456 Bubonic Plague 449 Bugler's test 501 Bull Frog 376, 427 Burroughs, John 375, 407 Business meeting 57 Business Woman test 502 Butterfly 449 Butler, Albert E. 384, 388, 394 Bumble Bees 447 Cambridge flag 68 Camp cooking 360 ff recipes 362 ff utensils 340, 344, 361 Camping and the Guide Law 36 Camping for Girl Scouts 313 ff hiking 314 ff site 319 ff fires 327 ff provisions 345 ff Camp sanitation 323 Canada 27 Canner 502 Captain 14 Captain's pin 538 Cardinal flower 381 Cassiopeia 302 Cat fish 433 Cellar 107 Ceremonies, Forms for Girl Scouts 44 ff Alternate forms 48 ff Chaining 467 ff Chairman 57 Chameleon 431 Change step 90 Chevrons 538 Chief Scout 35 Child, care of 157 ff Child Health Organization 547 Child Nurse 157 ff test 503 Child, routine of 162 ff Christmas Fern 389 Cicada 447 Citizen's test 504 Civic biology 377 Clams 442 Class test 60 ff Cleaning 126 Clermont 69 Closing exercises 57 Clothing for Hiking 317 Clove hitch 492 ff Cochineal 446 Cocoa 363 Cod 433 Colds, care of 247 ff Color Guard 46 "Common minerals and rocks" 454 Compass 482 ff Congressional Library 540 Conservation of forests 393 ff Continental Code 97, 99 Conventional signs for maps 479 Convulsions, care of 186 ff Cooking devices 340 Cooking in camp 360 Cook 133 ff test 505 Coral 439 Corned beef hash 362 Corporal 13, 538 Council 14 Court of Honor 15, 45 Crabs 437, 439 Craftsman test 505 Crinkle root 289 Crocodile 429 Crosby, William O. 454 Cultivation 461 Cyclist test 507 Cypress, bald 396 Dancer test 518 Dandelion 383 Dairy Maid test 507 Dash, General Service Code 98 Daughter of New France 20 Dawson, Jean 377 Deciduous 387 Declaration of Independence 68 Deming, Dr. W. C. 190 Diamond Back Terrapin 431 Dickerson, Mary C. 389 Diminish front 96 Dinner 139 ff Director, National 15 Dish washing 117 Dishes, washing in camp 364 Dislocations, care of 177 ff Distance, to take in drill 92 Direction 478 Dot, in General Service Code 98 Double time 88 Doughty, Arthur G. 20 Dow, Ula M. 133 Dragon flies 446 Dressmaker 508 Dress, right or left 85 Drill, Girl Scout 84 ff Tenderfoot 84 Second Class 90 First Class 95 Drummer test 509 Duck hawks 418 Dutch Cleanser 365 Eagle 407 Eclaireuses de France 31 Economist test 509 Eel 456 Egrets 374, 411 ff Electrician test 510 Emergencies, aid for 164 ff Erosion 393 Evergreen 387 Exercises 275 ff Explorer 21 Eyes, Health of 259 ff Eyes right or left 80 Eyesight, tested by stars 303 Facings 86 Fall in 84 out 87 Falkland Islands 27 Fairy Tales 541 Farmer test 510 Feet, care of 315 Fellowship 2 Fire, control of 199 ff Fireless Cooker 111 ff Fishes 432 ff Fishes, group of 433 Fishballs 361 Fisher, G. Clyde 366, 373 ff First Aide 164 ff test 512 First Class Badge 538 Conferring of 50 Test 64 ff First Girl Scout 20 Flag 67 ff Colors 67 History 67 ff How to make 77 Respect due 70 ff Regulations for flying 71 ff Flashlight signalling 100 Floods, causes of 393 Floor, Kitchen 108 Flower crests 539 Flower Finder test 512 Flower garden 462 ff Fly, House, fighting of 121 Folk Tales 541 Food for Camps 362 ff Food for the Sick 249 ff Food furnishing animals 402 Food Habits 402 Food, storage of 123 ff Foot 466 Forbush, Edward Howe 419 Forests, uses of 393 ff fires 395 Fox 406 Fractures, care of 177 ff France 31 Freezing 40 care of 188 ff Fried bacon 362 Fried fish 361 Fried ham 361 Fried country sausage 362 Fried potatoes 362 Fringed gentian 381, 383 Frying pan 361 ff Fulton, Robert 59 Fungi 289 Furnishing 107 Gaillardia 384 Gamefish 435 Ganoid 433 Garden, Girl Scout's Own 456 ff Gardener test 514 Gas stove 110 General service code 97 Geology 452 ff Germs, fighting of 121 Gibson, William Hamilton 383, 426 Gila Monster 429 Gills 431 Girl Guides 1, 18 ff Girl Scout Stories 544 Glacial Drift 453 Glacier 451 ff Glass snake 430 Golden Eaglet 45, 52, 535 Golden Plover 414 Goldenrod 381 Government Bulletins 456 Grand Union Flag 68 Great Blue Heron 422 Great horned owls 411 Great Ice Age 453 Grebe 408 Grey, Lord 20 Group Badges 533 ff Guide, the Flower 383 Guides, War Service 27 Half-hitch 491 ff Halibut 433 Half step 89 Halt 89 Hammerhead shark 436 Handbooks of Allied Organizations 540 "Handbook of Birds in Eastern North America" 423 "Handbook of Birds of Western United States" 423 Hand signalling 103 Handy-woman test 515 Hawks 420 "Hawks and Owls of the U. S." 420 Health Guardian test 516 Health Winner 257 test 517 Heating house 124 Heights, to estimate 459 ff Hemlock 390 Hepatica 381 Hermit crab 442 Hickory nut 383 Hiking 314 ff History novels 541 History of the American Girl Scouts 1 Hog peanuts 289 Hodge, Clifton 377, 534 "Home Life of Wild Birds" 423 Hollyhocks 383 Homemaker, the 23, 106 test 518 Home Nurse, the 217 ff test 519 Honeybee 448 Honeydew 448 Horsewoman test 520 Hostess test 520 House fly 449 House planning 106 Howe, Julia Ward 77 Hummingbird 383 Hummingbird moth 446 Hunter, David M. 456 Hydroids 441 Hyla 428 Ice Chest 114 ff "Illustrated Flora" 383 Illnesses, common 245 ff India 27 Indian cucumber 288 Indian turnip 289 Injuries, major 177 ff minor 169 ff Inorganic 377 Insects 439, 446 ff Insect eating birds 421 ff Insignia, Scouts and officers 538 Inspection 56 Interpreter test 521 Interval, Gen. Ser. Code 98 Semaphore 101 Invertebrate 377, 438 ff Jack in the Pulpit 383 Jean, Sally Lucas 547 Jelly fish 439 Jessamine 381 Jones, John Paul 68 Journalist test 521 Judging weights and measures 467 ff Kelley's Island 455 Kephart, Horace 313 ff Key, Francis Scott 73 Kildeer 419 Kindling 334 ff Kipling, Rudyard 376 Kitchen 108 Knots 484 ff glossary 495 Labor Saving 124 ff Lady Slipper 281 Lafayette 69 "Land Birds East of the Rockies" 423 Land Scout, Group Badge 535 Lang, Herbert 426 Lantern, signalling 100 Latrine in camp 323 Laundress test 522 Laws of Girl Scouts 4 ff Leader's Handbooks of Allied Organizations 545 Legends 542 Lewis and Clark Expedition 21 Lobsters 439 Loco Weed 383 Lone Scout 13 Loon 372 Low, Mrs. Juliette, Founder G. S. 1 Lunch 148 ff Lung fishes 433 Lutz, Dr. 447 Life Saving Medals 536 "Little Women" 23 Living room 118 Library, American Association 540 Lieutenants 14 Mackerel 433 Magdelaine de Verchères 20 Magnolia 380 Maiden Hair Fern 383 Malaria 449 Mallard Duck 424 Mammals 399 ff Manna 447 Manners, good 129 ff Manual by Grey 383 Manure 458 Map of camp 481 Maple, black sugar 391 Mappa 477 Maps, history, uses, how to make 476 ff Marine worms 443 Mark time 88 Marsh Marigold 383 Measurements 268 ff 466 ff Medal of Merit 536 Medals, special 536 Medicines 241 ff Meeting, Girl Scout 55 ff Menus 133 ff Metre 466 Metric System 466 Metropolitan Life Insurance Company 547 Merit Badges, conferring 51 Miller, Mr. and Mrs. Leo 387 Milliner test 522 Milton 456 Mink 415 Minutes 58 Mississippi Valley 453 Moccasin Flower 382 Mocking bird 409 Mole Crab 444 Monarch butterfly 449, 450 Moon 303 Moose 369 Morris, Robert 68 Morse Code American 97 International 97 ff Mosquito 449 fighting of 121 Motorist test 523 Motto of Girl Scouts 3 Mountain Climbing 367 ff Mountain Laurel 383 Mud-eel 427 Mud puppy 427 Musician test 523 Muscular strain, avoiding 261 ff Mushrooms 289 ff 392 Mussels 442 Muir Glacier 454 Muir, John 366 Myths 542 National Convention 1 National Director 16 National Headquarters 1 National Organization 15 Nature, classification 379 Nature in City 39 Nature Study 36, 43 Nature Study for Girl Scouts 373 ff Naturalist, Scout, group badge 534 Needlewoman's test 524 Nesting boxes 424 Newts 427 New York 1 Noble Peregrine 418, 420 Nonsense 542 North America 451 North Pole 69 Novels 542 Nubian Gold Mines 476 Nurse, the Child 157 ff home 217 ff Oak 390 Oblique March 93 Observation 39 Octopus 439 Oil stove 110 One cell animals 431 Onions 363 Opossum 399, 401 Orchids 383 Organic 377 Organization 13 ff Orion's Sword 304 Otter 400 "Our Native Orchids" 383 Out of Door Scout 35 ff Ox Eye Daisy 383 Oyster 439, 445 Pace, Scout's 314 Pacing 475, 478 Paddle fish 432 Parade 87 Parade formation 80 ff Pathfinder's test 524 Patients, amusing of 251 feeding 251 routine 252 Patriotic songs 72 Patrol system 13 Peary, Robert 69 Pecten 443 Peeper, spring 428 Pelicans 412 Periwinkle 442 Personal measures 474 Photographer test 525 Pickerel 453 Pickerel weed 385 Pickersgill, Mrs. Mary 74 Pine, long leaved 389 Pine tree patrol system 325 Pine rose mallow 383 Pioneer 25 test 526 Pirsson, Louis V. 454 Pivot, moving 93 fixed 94 Planting 459 Plants 380 ff Plants, edible, wild 285 ff Plants poisonous 386 ff Pledge 3 Pleiades 302 Poetry 544 Poison, antidotes for 202 ff Polar bear 402, 452 Policy 16 Position, right 273 ff Posture 257 ff, 273 ff League 547 Poultry, destroyed 402 Preparation of seed bed 457 Presentation of badges 21, 45 ff Princess Pat 21 Principles of Girl Scouts 3 ff Proficiency tests 497 ff Promise 4 Protozoa 439 Proverbs, outdoor 284 Provisions for camping 345 ff Public Health 257 ff Quick time 87 Quebec 20 Raccoon 402 Rat flea 449 Rally 45 Rays 433 Recipes, camp 362 ff home 133 ff Red Cross, National 214 ff, 547 "Red Gods," 371 Reed, Chester A. 383, 423 Reef knot 487 ff Reference reading, Captains' 544 Scouts 540 ff Refrigerator, iceless 115 ff Remedies 241 ff Reptiles 428 ff Rests 86 ff Rhododendrons or Great Laurel 388 Right angle, to test 471 Robin 409 Rock crab 444 "Rocks and Rock Minerals" 454 Rocky Mountain Goat 378 Rock Tapper test 526 Roorbach, Eloise 367 Ropes, parts of 487 Ross, Betsy 67 Colonel 68 Roumanian Scout 29 Russian Revolution 29 Sacajawea 21 Sailor test 527 St. Paris, Ohio 454 St. Paul 70 Salamander 425 Salmon 433 Sandhill cranes 410 Sand hoppers 442 Sanitation in Camp 323 Scale insect 447 maps made to 478 Scallop 443 Scavengers, bird 421 Science, wonders of 544 Scout Aide 105 ff Group Badge 534 Scout Cook, the 133 ff Scout Naturalist Group Badge 534 Scout Neighbor Badge 533 Scout's pace 314 Scratches glacial 453 Screech owl 409 Scribe test 528 Sea anemone 439 cucumber 439 spiders 442 Seashore animals 439 ff Second class Badge 49 drill 90 test 61 ff Secretary 57 Seeds 459 Segmented worms 439 Semaphore signalling 101 ff code 102 Setting-up exercises for Girl Scouts 273 ff Seventeen Year Locust 447 ff Shakespeare 452 Shaler, N. S. 453 Sharks 433 Shaw, Anna Howard 25 Sheep shank 493 ff Sheet bend 487 ff Sherwood, Geo. H. 373 ff Shocks, care of 186 ff Shoes, for hiking 315 Shovel nosed sturgeon 434 Showy primrose 387 Shrike 417 Sick bed 221 ff Sick, care of 217 ff Sick room 218 ff Side step 89 Signalling 97 ff Signal flag, Gen'l Service 97, Semaphore 101 Signaller test 528 Signs and blazes 305 Silk worm 448 Simmons college 106, 133 Sink 116 ff Skink 430 Skunk 404 Skunk cabbage 380 Slogan 3 Smith, Samuel F. 55 Snail 439 Snake bite 297 Snakes 294 ff Social forms 129 ff Soft shelled crab 445 Soil 458 Solomon's Seal 289 Song birds 409 Sounds, measuring distance by 471 Spanish Moss 396 Spiders 439, 450 446 ff Sponges 439 Spring Beauty 381 Spruce, black, red 389 Square knot 487 ff Squid 438 Stains 127 ff Stalking 39 Stars 78 ff 298 ff Starfish 437, 445 Star Gazer test 529 Starling 420 Star Spangled Banner 73 ff Steps and marchings 87 Stew 361 "Story of Our Country" 453 Stove 109 Supper 148 ff Sun stroke, care of 188 ff Swimmer's test 530 Table manners 130 ff setting 131 Tadpoles 425 Taping 467 ff Tenderfoot enrollment 44, 48 pin 538 test 60 ff Tennyson 380 Tents 322 ff Telegrapher test 530 Telemetry 467, 468 Teodorroiu, Ecaterina 29 Timber wolves 398 Thanks badge 537 Thistle 383 Thrushes 409 Toad 425 ff Toadstools 289 ff Toast 363 Tools 457 Totem 309 Tracking 40 Trade names and true names of furs 403 Trailing arbutus 381 Trans-Atlantic flight 69 Treasurer, report of 57 ff Trees 387 ff Triangulation 467 ff 478 Troop 14 Troop crest 539 Turin 476 Turpentine 389 ff Turtles 429 ff Uniform, one piece 83 two piece 92 Union, the 70 Union Jack 68 Units of measure 466 "Useful Birds and their Protection" 419 Vega 304 Vegetable garden 459 ff Vertebrates 377 Walnuts 383 Wapato 288 War service 266 ff Water and game birds 423 Water dog 427 Water lily 383 Water, selection 320 supply 125 ff Wasp 447 Waste 122 Weasel 400 ff Weather wisdom 282 ff Weeds 461 Weevils 449 Weights and measures 135 ff judging 467 ff West Indies 27 "Western Bird Guide" 423 Wharf pile animals 441 Whelk 443, 444 Who are the Scouts 17 ff Whistle 100, 103 White, Gilbert 425 Whitman, Walt 313 Whittier 387 Width, to estimate 468 ff Wig Wag 97 Wild carrot 383 Wild flowers and ferns 380 ff Wild turkey 416 Witch Hazel 382 Wood, uses of 388 ff Woodcraft 280 ff Woodcraft Scout Group Badge 534 Woods, twelve secrets of the 280 ff Woolen things 122 ff clothes 317 ff Wordsworth 375 Wounds, care of 181 ff Wright, Wilbur 69 Yard 466 Yarrow 383 Yellow fever 449 Yellow pine 394 Zoologist test 531 GIRL SCOUTS (INCORPORATED) NATIONAL HEADQUARTERS 189 Lexington Ave., New York City OFFICERS, 1924 _Founder_ MRS. JULIETTE LOW _Honorary President_ MRS. CALVIN COOLIDGE _Honorary Vice-Presidents_ MRS. WARREN G. HARDING MRS. WILLIAM H. TAFT MRS. T. J. PRESTON, JR. (_Formerly Mrs. Grover Cleveland_) MRS. WOODROW WILSON _President_ MRS. HERBERT HOOVER _First Vice-President_ MRS. ARTHUR O. CHOATE _Second Vice-President_ MRS. JULIUS ROSENWALD _Third Vice-President_ MRS. WILLIAM HOFFMAN _Fourth Vice-President_ MRS. M. E. OLMSTED _Treasurer_ MRS. NICHOLAS F. BRADY _Chairman Executive Board_ MRS. V. EVERIT MACY _Counsel_ MR. DOUGLAS CAMPBELL _Director_ MRS. JANE DEETER RIPPIN ADVISORY COMMITTEE ON BUSINESS AND FINANCE MR. FREDERIC W. ALLEN, _Chairman_ MR. GORDON ABBOTT MR. ROBERT CASSATT MR. HERBERT LLOYD MR. DUNLEVY MILBANK MR. CHARLES E. MITCHELL MR. JOHN D. RYAN MR. FREDERICK STRAUSS MR. FELIX WARBURG EXECUTIVE BOARD MISS SARAH LOUISE ARNOLD MRS. LEO ARNSTEIN MRS. JOHN T. BAXTER MRS. NICHOLAS F. BRADY MRS. FREDERICK H. BROOKE MRS. FRANCIS K. CAREY MRS. LYMAN DELANO MR. FRANCIS P. DODGE MRS. FREDERICK EDEY MRS. ARTHUR W. HARTT MRS. V. EVERIT MACY MISS E. GWEN MARTIN MRS. WILLIAM G. MCADOO MISS LLEWELLYN PARSONS MRS. WILLIAM L. PHELPS MRS. HAROLD I. PRATT MRS. W. N. ROTHSCHILD MRS. HELEN R. SCUDDER MRS. A. CLIFFORD SHINKLE MRS. EDWARD A. SKAE MRS. PERCY H. WILLIAMS PERMANENT COMMITTEES =Education= _Chairman_, MISS SARAH LOUISE ARNOLD =Field= _Chairman_, MRS. FREDERICK EDEY =Finance= _Chairman_, MRS. NICHOLAS F. BRADY =Policies= _Chairman_, MRS. FREDERICK H. BROOKE =Publication= _Chairman_, MRS. WILLIAM HOFFMAN =Standards= _Chairman_, MRS. ARTHUR O. CHOATE GIRL SCOUT PUBLICATIONS See Latest Price List for Cost _Scouting for Girls._ Official Handbook of the Girl Scouts. 572 pages, profuse illustrations. Bibliography. Khaki cloth cover, flexible. Officers' Edition, board. _Campward Ho!_ Manual for Girl Scout Camps. 192 pages. Illustrations. Bibliography, cuts and diagrams. Cloth. _The Blue Book Of Rules For Girl Scout Captains._ All official regulations, and Constitution and By-Laws. Lefax form. No. 12 _Introductory Training Course For Girl Scout Officers._ Outline of 10 lessons. Equipment and references. Lefax form. No. 13. _The Girl Scouts' Health Record._ A convenient form for recording the points needed to cover for badge of "Health Winner." No. 7 _Girl Scouts, Their Works, Ways and Plays._ Pamphlet. No. 5 _Your Girl and Mine_, by Josephine Daskam Bacon, Pamphlet. No. 9. _Why I Believe in Scouting for Girls._ Mary Roberts Rinehart. Pamphlet No. 10 _Field Note Book For Girl Scout Officers._ Blue canvas cover, filler, envelope, for Blue Book of Rules, Training Courses, Miscellaneous Publications and Notes. Lefax form. _The Citizen Scout, A Program for Senior Girl Scouts._ Lefax form. No. 14. _Why Scouting for Girls Should Interest College Women._ Louise Stevens Bryant Pamphlet. Lefax form. No. 16. _Girl Scout Councils, Their Organization and Training._ 20 pp. Lefax form No. 17. _Why My Girls are Girl Scouts_ by Rear-Admiral W. S. Sims, U. S. N. Pamphlet. No. 15 _Community Service for Girl Scouts._ Lefax form. No. 18. _Girl Scouts, Inc., Annual Reports for 1920 and 1921._ Lefax form. No. 25 and 26. _Has She Got Pep? What the Girl Scout Leader Needs._ Josephine Daskam Bacon. Pamphlet. No. 21. _Educational Work of the Girl Scouts._ Louise Stevens Bryant. Written for Biennial Survey, 1918-1920, Bureau of Education, Washington, D. C. _The American Girl._ A Scouting Magazine for all girls. Monthly. 15 cents the copy; $1.50 the year. Special Section for Officers, "The Field News." Other Publications in Stock _Scoutmastership._ A Handbook for Scoutmasters on the Theory of Scout Training, by Sir Robert Baden-Powell. Putnam's Sons, N. Y. 1920. _Brownies or Blue Birds._ A Handbook for Young Girl Guides, by Sir Robert Baden-Powell, London. C. Arthur Pearson. 1920. _The Patrol System for Girl Guides._ London. C. Arthur Pearson. _The Junior Cook Book. Girl Scout Edition._ Clara Ingram. Barse and Hopkins. Order From GIRL SCOUTS, INC. National Headquarters 189 Lexington Ave. New York City The Woodcraft Section of SCOUTING FOR GIRLS gives the Girl Scout a taste of one of the jolliest, most readable books about the out of door life that any girl can have: "_The Woodcraft Manual for Girls_," by Ernest Thompson Seton, published by Doubleday Page and Company for the Woodcraft League Of America, Inc. Mr. Seton has long been loved by the young people of many countries for his marvelous understanding of animals and their homes, and in this book he has shared his secrets with the boys and girls of America; so that any Girl Scout who wants to be sure of herself on the trail and equipped for all emergencies of the woods, could add no better guide book to her Troop or personal life than this one. [Illustration: GIRL SCOUTS] * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Page 15, "nieghborhood" changed to "neighborhood" (interests of the neighborhood) Page 28, "emeny" changed to "enemy" (by the enemy) Page 28, "neigborhood" changed to "neighborhood" (in their neighborhood) Page 30, "Souts" changed to "Scouts" (Scouts have sometimes had) Page 31, "wherewe" changed to "where we" (town where we live) Page 35, "counsins" changed to "cousins" (British cousins are the) Page 52, "oportunity" changed to "opportunity" (take this opportunity) Page 65, "skiis" changed to "skis" (Run on skis) Page 66, twice, "Macfarlane" changed to "MacFarlane" (Will C. MacFarlane) Page 67, "Pennyslvania" changed to "Pennsylvania" (New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Deleware) Page 82, "troup" changed to "troop" (use one troop in) Page 86, "3" changed to "2" ((or left). 2. _Front._) Page 129, "aquainted" changed to "acquainted" (if we are acquainted) Page 131, "breding" changed to "breeding" (Good breeding) Page 139, "like" changed to "likes" (likes a hearty breakfast) Page 139, "salt" changed to "salted" (are salted enough) Page 139, "like" changed to "likes" (family likes salad) Page 140, "big" changed to "bit" (least bit soggy) Page 146, "carefuly" changed to "carefully" (carefully washed as) Page 151, "arangement" changed to "arrangement" (arrangement, and pleasant) Page 177, "e" changed to "c" ((c) If the bleeding) Page 182, "satifactory" changed to "satisfactory" (is very satisfactory) Page 187, "unconcious" changed to "unconscious" (that the patient is unconscious) Page 191, "bouyancy" changed to "buoyancy" (because of its buoyancy) Page 191, "bouyant" changed to "buoyant" (body less buoyant) Page 193, "buoyance" changed to "buoyancy" (overcome the buoyancy) Page 196, "of" changed to "or" (an hour or two) Page 198, "breath" changed to "breathe" (do not breathe until) Page 205, "trying" changed to "tying" (tying on splints) Page 219, word "being" inserted into text (before being returned) Page 235, word "a" inserted into text (and a separate) Page 238, "Fomentation" changed to "Fomentations" (Fomentations or stupes) Page 240, "receptable" changed to "receptacle" (contained in the receptacle) Page 250, word "being" inserted into text (before being given) Page 281, "igorance" changed to "ignorance" (cures much ignorance) Page 301, "Betelgueze" changed to "Betelgeuze" (Betelgeuze, of Orion's right) Page 313, Footnote marker was inserted into text. (FOR GIRL SCOUTS [1]) Page 325, "as" changed to "has" (Senior has charge of) Page 339, "Syacmore" changed to "Sycamore" (Sycamore and buckeye) Page 345, "to" changed to "too" (generally too bulky) Page 350, "peal" changed to "peel" (peel it as you would) Page 353, "eth" changed to "teeth" (build up bone and teeth) Page 354, "assimiated" changed to "assimilated" (and is assimilated) Page 361, "crisco" changed to "Crisco" (Crisco, or prepared cooking) Page 373, "Hisory" changed to "History" (branches of Natural History) Page 373, "inviation" changed to "invitation" (extends a cordial invitation) Page 376, "pratical" changed to "practical" (These practical questions) Page 390, "Cylde" changed to "Clyde" (by G. Clyde Fisher) Page 403, "Artic" changed to "Arctic" (Arctic regions of the) Page 409, "largly" changed to "largely" (feeds largely upon mice) Page 426, "Eastrn" changed to "Eastern" (Eastern United States) Page 427, "gardner" changed to "gardener" (of the gardener) Page 442, "muscles" changed to "mussels" (barnacles, mussels) Page 449, "mullberry" changed to "mulberry" (prefer mulberry leaves) Page 461, "stedlings" changed to "seedlings" (seedlings that you) Page 462, "you" changed to "your" (set your line six) Page 463, "vegtables" changed to "vegetables" (bed of vegetables) Page 473, "accopmlish" changed to "accomplish" (you will accomplish) Page 501, number 1 inserted into text (1. Give list of) Page 505, "tieing" changed to "tying" (two kinds of tying) Page 506, number 5 on the list was omitted. This was retained. Page 506, "Applique" changed to "Appliqué" (Appliqué: Design an Appliqué) Page 507, "Demonsrrate" changed to "Demonstrate" (Demonstrate leading a) Page 507, "scrupulouly" changed to "scrupulously" (cows scrupulously clean) Page 510, "relpace" changed to "replace" (replace a burnt-out) Page 513, "Three" changed to "There" (There are some excellent) Page 513, "Published" changed to "published" (Hough, published by the) Page 516, "employee" changed to "employ" (employ one) Page 518, original list under "5. Keep Clean:" went from b to d. List was reordered. Page 525, "submit" changed to "Submit" (1. Submit six good) Page 532, repeated word "and" deleted from text (table and kitchen dishes should) Page 542, "Twai" changed to "Twain" (Pauper, by Mark Twain) Page 542, "Forque" changed to "Forqué" (Undine, by De la Motte Forqué) Page 542, "Predjudice" changed to "Prejudice" (Pride and Prejudice) Page 544, "the" changed to "The" (The Princess and Curdie) Page 553, in original text, entry for "Hornung" came after "Johnson, Owen". This was repaired. Page 543, "Nalaukha" changed to "Naulakha" (Kim, The Naulakha) Page 543, the list of books restarts alphabetically after Woolson. Page 545, "clevely" changed to "cleverly" (psychology cleverly presented) Page 546, the entry Woods was originally located between Terman and Trotter. This was repaired. Page 546, "Caravaning" changed to "Caravanning" (Caravanning and Camping-out) Page 546, "Haris" changed to "Harris" (J. Harris Stone--Herbert) Page 548, "lizzard" changed to "Lizard" (Blue-tailed Lizard 430) Page 551, "Kephardt" changed to "Kephart" (Kephart, Horace 313) Page 551, "Vercheres" changed to "Verchères" (Magdelaine de Verchères 20) Page 551, "Systm" changed to "System" (Metric System 466) Page 552, in original text, entry for "Position" came after "Posture". This was repaired. Page 552, "Racoon" changed to "Raccoon" (Racoon 402) Page 552, "Refrigator" changed to "Refrigerator" (Refrigerator, iceless, 115) Page 552, "Scavangers" changed to "Scavengers" (Scavengers, bird 421) Page 553, in original text, entry for "Sharks" came after "Shovel". This was repaired. Page 553, entries for "Sick bed" and "Sick, care of" were repeated in the original text. They have been deleted. Page 553, in original text, entries for "Steps" and "Stew" came before "Stars". This was repaired. Page 553, "badeg" changed to "badge" (Thanks badge 537) Page 553, entries for "Thistle" and "Thrushes" were repeated in the original text. They have been deleted. Page 553, "anmes" changed to "names" (Trade names and true) Page 553, "Unifom" changed to "Uniform" (Uniform, one piece) Page 554, in original text, entry for "Water dog" came before "Water and game". This was repaired.