Camp Fire Girls The in the Mountains Part 9

"I don't suppose you did," Eleanor went on. "I don't think you mean to be wicked, any of you. But just try to think of how you would have felt if that house had caught fire in the night, and some of us had been burned to death because we couldn't get out."

"I didn't--we never thought of that," said Gladys. "Did we, girls?"

"Well, I don't suppose you did. But that doesn't excuse the trick you played at all. I'm not going to say anything more now, but I think that if you stop to consider yourselves, you'll find out how mean you were, and what a contemptible thing you've done."

With heads hanging, and tears in the eyes of some of them, completely crushed by Miss Eleanor's quiet anger as they would not have been had she heaped reproaches upon them, the raiders started to return to their own camp. Eleanor stood aside to let them pa.s.s; then, with Bessie, she went back to the camp.

"I hardly think we'll have any more trouble with them," she said.

"I don't see why they dislike us so much," said Bessie. "We haven't done anything to them."

"I don't know how to explain it, Bessie. It isn't American; that's the worst thing about it. But you know that in Europe they have lords and dukes and an aristocracy, don't you? People who think that because they're born in certain families they are better than anyone else?"

"Yes."

"Well, there's a good deal of excuse for people to feel that way over there, because it's their system, and everyone keeps on admitting it, and so making the aristocrats believe it. They're the descendants of men who, hundreds of years ago, really did do great things, and earned certain honors that their children were allowed to inherit."

"But it isn't the same over here at all, Miss Eleanor."

"No, and that's just it. But these girls, you see, are all from rich homes. And in this country some people who have a lot of money are trying to make an aristocracy, and the only reason for being in it is having money. That's all wrong, because in this country the best men and women have always said and believed that the only thing that counted was what you were, not what you had."

"Well, I'm not going to feel bad about them, Miss Eleanor. I guess that if they really were such wonderful people they wouldn't think they had to talk about it all the time, they'd be sure that people would find it out for themselves."

"You're very sensible, Bessie, and I only hope the other girls will take it the same way. I really couldn't blame them if they tried to get even in some fas.h.i.+on, but I hope they won't, because I don't want to have any trouble. I'm afraid of Dolly, though."

"I think Dolly's perfectly fine!" said Bessie, enthusiastically. "They were willing to be nice to her, but she stuck to us, and said she wouldn't have anything to do with them."

"That's what the Camp Fire has done for her, Bessie. I'm afraid that if Dolly hadn't joined us, she'd have been as bad as they are, simply because she wouldn't have stopped to think."

Bessie considered that thoughtfully for a moment before she answered.

"Well, then, Miss Eleanor," she said, finally, "don't you suppose that if that's so, some of those girls would be just as nice as Dolly, if they belonged to the Camp Fire and really understood it?"

"I'm sure of it, Bessie--just as sure as I can be! And I do wish there was some way of making them understand us. I'd rather get girls like that, who have started wrong, than those who have always been nice."

Contrary to Bessie's expectations, when they reached the Living Camp, Eleanor made no appeal to the girls to refrain from trying to get even with the raiders. Eleanor knew that if she gave positive orders that no such attempt was to be made she would be obeyed, but she felt that this was an occasion when it would be better to let the girls have free rein. She knew enough about them to understand that a smouldering fire of dislike, were it allowed to burn, would do more harm than an outbreak, and she could only hope that they would not take the matter too seriously.

"We're all going in bathing this afternoon after lunch," said Dolly to Bessie, after breakfast. "I asked Miss Eleanor, and she said it would be all right. The water's cold here, but not too cold, and with this smoke all over everything, I think it will be better in the water than it would be anywhere else."

"The wind hasn't s.h.i.+fted much yet, has it?" said Zara.

"It's s.h.i.+fted, but not altogether the right way," said Bessie. "I think the houses along the lake are all right now, but the wind is blowing the fire in a line parallel with them, you see, and it will burn over a lot more of the woods before they can get it under control."

"Miss Eleanor says we'll have to stay here a couple of days, at least," said Margery. "Girls, what do you think about those cats in the next camp?"

Dolly's teeth snapped viciously.

"I think we ought to get even with them," she said. "Are we going to let them think they can play a trick like that on us and not hear anything at all about it?"

"Oh, what's the use?" said Margery. "I think it would be better if we didn't pay any attention to them at all--just let them think we don't care."

"You were mad enough last night and this morning, Margery," said Dolly. "You didn't act then as if you didn't care!"

"No, I suppose I didn't. I was as mad as a wet hen, and there's no mistake about that. But, after all, what's the use? I suppose we could put up some sort of game on them, but I'm pretty sure Miss Eleanor wouldn't like it."

"I think you're right," said Bessie. "If we let them alone they'll get tired of trying to do anything nasty to us. You ought to have seen the way they sneaked off when Miss Eleanor spoke to them this morning. They acted just the way I've seen a dog do after it's been whipped."

"Oh, that's all right, too, Bessie," said Dolly. "But that won't last. They probably did feel pretty cheap at first, but when they've had a chance to talk things over, they'll decide that they had the best of us. And I know how Gladys Cooper and the rest of the girls from home will talk. They'll tell about it all over town."

"Let them!" said Margery. "I'm not going to do a thing. And you can't start a war all by yourself, Dolly. If you try it you'll only get into trouble, and be sorry."

"Oh, will I?" said Dolly, defiantly. "Well, I'm not saying a word. But if I see a good chance to get even with them, I'm going to do it--and I won't ask for any help, either! Just you wait!"

"Let's quit sc.r.a.pping among ourselves, Dolly. Wouldn't they just be tickled to death if they knew we were doing that! Nothing would please them any better."

But even Margery's newly regained patience was to be sorely tried that afternoon, when, after an early lunch, the Camp Fire Girls donned their bathing dresses and went in swimming off the float in front of the Worcester camp.

"Come on, Dolly," she cried. "See that rock out there? I'll race you there and back!"

They went in together, diving so that their heads struck water at just the same moment, while the rest of the girls watched them from the float. On the outward journey they were close together, but they had not more than started back when there was a sudden outburst of laughter from the float where Gladys Cooper and her friends were watching, and the next moment a white streak shot through the water, making a terrific din, and kicking up a tremendous lot of spray.

"Whatever is that?" cried Zara.

"A motor boat," said Mary King. "Look at it go! Why, what are they trying to do?"

The answer to that question was made plain in a moment. For the motor boat, into which three or four of the girls from the next camp had leaped, kept das.h.i.+ng back and forth between the float and the rock. It raised great waves as it pa.s.sed, and made fast swimming, and for that matter, swimming of any sort, almost impossible. Moreover, it was plain from the laughter of those on board that their only purpose was to annoy the Camp Fire Girls and spoil their sport in the water.

Dolly and Margery, exhausted by their struggle with the waves from the motor boat, struggled to the float as best they could and came up, dripping and furious.

"See that!" cried Dolly. "They can't be doing that for fun. All they want to do is to bother us. You'd think we had tried to do something mean to them the way they keep on nagging us."

"They certainly seem to be looking for trouble," said Margery, "But let's try not to pay any attention to them, girls."

Margery knew that Eleanor Mercer expected her, so far as she could, to help her on the rare occasions when it was necessary to keep the girls in order, and she realized that she was facing a test of her temper and of her ability to control others: She was anxious to become a Guardian herself, and she now sternly fought down her inclination to agree with Dolly that something should be done to take down the arrogant girls from the next camp, who were so determined to drive them away.

"I shall have to speak to whoever is in charge of those girls," said Eleanor. "I'm quite sure that no teacher would permit such behavior, but I can imagine that anyone who tried to control those girls would have her hands full, too."

"You bet she would!" said Dolly. "Miss Eleanor, isn't there some way we can get even?"

Eleanor ignored the question. All her sympathies were with Dolly, but she really wanted to avoid trouble, although it was easy to see that unless the other girls changed their tactics, trouble there was bound to be. So she tried to think of what to say to Dolly.

"Try to be patient, Dolly," she said, finally. "Did you ever hear the old saying that pride goes before a fall? I've never known people to act the way those girls are doing without being punished for it in some fas.h.i.+on. If we give them the chance, they'll do something sooner or later that will get them into trouble. And what we want to do, if we can, is to remember that two wrongs don't make a right, and that for us to let ourselves become revengeful won't help matters at all."

But for once Dolly did not seem disposed to take Miss Eleanor's advice as she usually did. Stealing a look at her chum's face, Bessie knew that Dolly would not rest until she had worked some scheme of revenge, and she felt that she couldn't blame Dolly, either. She could never remember being as angry as these rich, sn.o.bbish girls had made her.

Time and again,--every time, in fact, that any of the Camp Fire Girls ventured into the water--the motor boat returned to the charge. Their afternoon's sport in the water, to which all the girls had looked forward so eagerly, was completely spoiled, and the tormentors did not refrain even when Miss Eleanor, who had intended to sit on the float without swimming at all, challenged two or three of the girls to a race. She did that in the hope that the other girls might respect her, but her hope was vain.

To be sure, Gladys Cooper seemed to be a little frightened at the idea of bothering Miss Eleanor.

"Let's keep off until she's through," Bessie heard Gladys saying. "That's Miss Mercer--she knows my mother. We oughtn't to bother her. She comes from one of the best families in town."

But Gladys was laughed down.

"She'll have to suffer for the company she keeps, then," said a big, ugly-looking girl. "Can't play favorites, Gladys! We want to make them see they're not wanted here. My mother only let me come here because we were told this was an exclusive place."

And Miss Eleanor, like the others, was soon forced to beat a retreat to the float. Dolly was strangely silent for the rest of the day. Bessie, watching her anxiously, could tell that Dolly had some trick in her mind, but, try as she would, she could not find out what her plan was.

"No, I won't tell you, Bessie," said Dolly, when her chum finally asked her point-blank what she meant to do. "You're not a sneak, and I'm not afraid of your telling on me, but you'll be happier if you don't know."

Bessie felt that whatever Dolly might try to do to the other girls would serve them right, but she was worried about her chum. And when Dolly slipped off by herself after dinner, Bessie determined that she would not let her chum run any risks alone, even if she was not a sharer of Dolly's secret.

It was not a hard matter to trace Dolly, even though Bessie let her have a good start before she followed. She knew that any plan Dolly had must involve going to the other camp, and she hid herself, moving carefully so as to avoid detection, in a place that commanded the approach. And in a very abort time she heard Dolly coming; and saw that she was carrying a large basket with the utmost care.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE SPIRIT OF WO-HE-LO.

Bessie stole along silently behind Dolly. She wanted very much to say something, but she was afraid of what might happen if she let Dolly know that she was spying on her. And she had made up her mind, anyhow, that she would do more harm than good by interfering at this time.

Whatever it was she was doing might be wrong, but, after all, she had a good deal of provocation, and she had been far more patient already than anyone who knew her would have expected her to be.

"I bet they're just trying to work her up to trying to get even," Bessie reflected to herself. "Gladys Cooper knows her, so she must know what a temper Dolly has, and she must be surprised to think that she hasn't managed to arouse her yet."

That thought made Bessie gladder than ever that she had decided to follow Dolly. While she was not in the plot herself, she meant to be in it if Dolly got into trouble, or if, as Bessie half feared, it turned out that her chum was walking into a trap. Moreover, she was entirely ready to take her share of the blame, if there was to be any blame, and to let others believe that she had shared Dolly's secret from the first and had deliberately taken part in the plot.

Dolly's movements were puzzling. Bessie had expected her to go to the back of the camp, and when she heard laughter and the sound of loud talking coming from the boathouse, which was, of course, on the very sh.o.r.e of the lake, Bessie breathed a sigh of relief, since it seemed to her that the fact that the other girls were there would greatly increase Dolly's chance of escaping detection.

But instead of taking advantage of what Bessie regarded as a great piece of luck, Dolly paused to listen to the sounds from the boathouse, and then turned calmly and walked in its direction.

For a moment an unworthy suspicion crossed Bessie's mind.

"I wonder if she can be going to see them--to make up with them?" Bessie asked herself.

But she answered her own question with an emphatic no almost as soon as she had asked it. Dolly's anger the night before and that afternoon had not been feigned.

As she neared the boathouse, Dolly moved very cautiously. Even though she could see her, Bessie could not hear her, and she even had difficulty in following Dolly's movements, for she had put on a dark coat, and was an inconspicuous object in the darkness.

From the boathouse there now came the sound of music; a phonograph had been started, and it was plain from the shuffling of feet that the girls inside were dancing. Dolly crept closer and closer, until she reached one of the windows. Even as she did it a sharp, shrill voice cried out, and Bessie saw someone rush toward her from the darkness of a clump of trees near the boathouse. It was a trap, after all! Bessie rushed forward, but before she had taken more than a couple of steps, and before, indeed, her a.s.sailant could reach her, Dolly had accomplished her purpose.

Still running, Bessie saw her lift the basket she carried, and throw it point-blank through the window, first taking off the cover. And then the noise of the phonograph, the shout of Dolly's a.s.sailant, and all the noises about the place were drowned in a chorus of shrill screams of terror from inside the boathouse.

Bessie had never heard such a din. For the life of her she could not guess what Dolly had done to produce such an effect, and she did not stop to try. For the girl who had seen Dolly and rushed toward her, although too late to stop her, had caught hold of Dolly and was struggling to hold her.

Bessie rushed at her, however, and, so unexpected was her coming, that the other girl let go of Dolly and turned to grapple with the rescuer. That was just what Bessie wanted. With a quick, twisting motion she slipped out of the other girl's grip, and the next moment she was running as hard as she could to the back of the camp, where, if she could only get a good start, she would find herself in thick woods and so safe from pursuit.

She knew Dolly had recognized her at once. But neither had called the other's name, since that would enable whoever heard them to know which of the Camp Fire Girls was responsible for this sudden attack.

As she ran Bessie could bear Dolly in front of her, and she knew that Dolly must be able to hear her. Otherwise she was sure her chum would have turned back to rescue her. Behind her the screams of the frightened girls from the boathouse were still rising, but when Bessie stopped in ten minutes, she could hear no signs of pursuit.

"Dolly!" she cried. "It's all right to stop now. They're not chasing us any more."

Dolly stopped and waited for her, and when she came up Bessie saw at once that Dolly was angry--and at her.

"Much good it did you to try to stop me, didn't it?" said Dolly, viciously. "You got there too late!"

"I didn't try to stop you, and I was right behind you all the time!" said Bessie, angrily. "I was behind you so that if you got into any trouble I'd be there to help you--and I was. You're very grateful, aren't you?"

"Oh, Bessie, I am sorry! I might have known you wouldn't do anything sneaky. And you certainly did help me! I was going to thank you for that anyhow, as soon as I'd scolded you. But I knew you didn't want to try to get even with them, and I supposed, of course, that you were there to stop me."

Suddenly she began to laugh, and sat down weakly on the ground.

"Did you hear them yell?" she gasped. "Listen to them! They're still at it!"

"Whatever did you do to them, Dolly? I never heard such a noise in my life! You'd think they really had something to be afraid of."

"Yes, wouldn't you? Instead of just a basket full of poor, innocent little mice that were a lot more frightened than they were!"

"Dolly Ransom!" gasped Bessie. "Do you mean to say that's what you did?"

Bessie tried hard to be shocked, but the fun of it overcame her of a sudden, and she joined Dolly on the ground, while they clung to one another and rocked with laughter.

"I wasn't able to stop and watch them. That's all I'm sorry for now," said Dolly, weakly. "But hearing them was pretty nearly as fine, wasn't it?"

"Never heard of such a thing to do!" panted Bessie. "However did you manage it, Dolly? Where did you get the mice?"

"Promise not to tell, Bessie? I can't get anyone else into trouble, you know."

Bessie nodded.

"It was the guide--the Worcester's guide. He's just as mad at them as we are. It seems they've bothered him a lot, anyhow, and he didn't like them even before we came. He suggested the whole thing, and he was willing to do it. But I told him it was our quarrel, and that it was up to one of us to do it if he would get the mice. So he did, and put them in that basket for me. The rest of it was easy."

"They'll be perfectly wild, Dolly. I bet they'll be over at the camp complaining when we get back."

"Let them complain! It won't do them much good! Miss Eleanor is going to give me beans for doing it, but she won't let them know it! I know her, and she won't really be half as angry as she'll pretend to be."

"It was a wild thing to do, Dolly."

"I suppose it was, but did you think I was going to let Gladys Cooper tell all over town how they treated us? She'll have something to tell this time."

"Well, you got even, Dolly. There's no doubt of that. We'd better hurry back now, don't you think? They're quieter down there."

"I'm going to tell Miss Eleanor what I did just as soon as I see her," said Dolly. "She'd find out that it happened sooner or later, and I'm not ashamed of having done it, either. I'd do the same thing to-morrow if I had as good a reason!"