The Camp Fire Girls at Sunrise Hill Part 11

"Gracious, what person?" Polly protested. "You are both talking riddles. Have I mentioned anybody's name or proposed any mortal thing?

If I happen to be interested in this Nan Graham and to believe that things have been made pretty hard for her, is it anybody's business? I don't know just what it is about her that makes me feel as if she were a poor little hunted animal. I really don't think anybody has ever been even decently kind to her in her life; she has always had a bad name, and it must be a pretty hard thing to have to grow up in the shadow of one with no one to give you a boost. Take that affair at school; it was never positively proven that Nan was dishonest. Only she had told a few lies and her family was so horrid. Another girl might have been given another chance!"

"Well, we can't give her a chance at our Camp Fire club this summer, dear, Miss Martha is positive about it, so don't pretend that is not what you have on your mind," Betty interrupted. "I am sorry, but Miss Martha says she is a very different type of girl from the rest of us and might get us into trouble, and she is afraid our parents would not like her being with us."

"I don't know about parents, but I am sure mother wouldn't mind our helping another girl, perhaps just because she is different." And Polly's eyes filled with quick tears at the thought of her first long separation from her mother.

But Mollie shook her head slowly though not unsympathetically. "I am not so sure, Polly," she argued. "You know mother is always urging you to be sensible first and sentimental afterwards, and says that half the trouble in your life will come from working the other way round. Just take the question of the money; Nan Graham would never be able to pay her share, and although we let Mr. Ashton give us our camping outfit, each one of us is to pay her portion of our expenses and to try and find out how economical we can be. It isn't fair to impose a girl on Betty--"

"I have no idea of imposing Nan Graham on Betty," Polly interrupted hastily. "If it ever comes to be just a question of money, why I will promise to pay her expenses and to try to be responsible for her."

"You?" Mollie stared. "Polly O'Neill, you must be out of your senses.

You know we have just barely enough for ourselves and are even trying to save a bit out of that, besides working at basket making and anything else we can do, to send mother some extra money."

Polly smiled in a superior fas.h.i.+on. "There are more ways for making money, Sinopa, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. I have my own reasons for not telling you, but I expect to come into a sum of money shortly which will certainly be more than enough to pay this poor Nan's expenses."

"But it is not the money that I care about in the least, Poay," Betty exclaimed, "and you know it! Somehow I am just afraid that in some way Nan will bring unhappiness among us."

"Of course it is not the money you care about, Princess." (Polly's apology was as ardent as her suggestion.) "Sometimes I wonder what would happen to you if you should ever be poor and have to learn to think about such an ugly, commonplace thing as money. Never mind, I am going to be an American Sarah Bernhardt and you and Mollie can travel about in my private car with me. But you understand if you agree to let Nan Graham stay in camp with us, I can't let her be an expense to you or the other girls."

By way of answer Betty looked at her watch. "It is getting pretty late, Polly, don't you think we had better get back to camp?" she proposed.

In perfect accord the two girls now swept their canoe back to their landing place, for they could row perfectly together, swim, paddle a canoe, ride, play tennis, in fact do everything except have the same opinions.

The two girls carried the basket of fish, leaving Mollie to tie up the canoe.

"I hope you don't feel very disappointed, Polly, it was because I was afraid you might think it a good idea to have Nan Graham join our Camp Fire club that I asked you not to think of it last night," Betty said, apologetically, sorry as always to disappoint her friend and not unaffected by her point of view.

"Ah, but you put it in my head, Betty Ashton. Really I never dreamed at first of letting Nan do anything more than come and see what our Camp Fire life was like. She was so eager and so interested when I met her yesterday that she seemed kind of pitiful to me. She told me she was dreadfully lonely because nice girls wouldn't have anything more to do with her now and yet she didn't want really to be bad. No one will take her to work, so she couldn't think what she could do with herself all summer. Last night when you went in to bed I kept on thinking about her and about what our Camp Fire may mean some day when we are older and stronger ourselves and understand more about it. Of course no one wants to be done good to, that is horrid and patronizing, but everybody wants to be made happier, rich people: and poor people too. Remember how you once said that Wohelo, Work, Health and Love, solved all life's difficulties.

"Wohelo means love. We love Love, for love is life, and light and joy and sweetness, And love is comrades.h.i.+p and motherhood, and fatherhood, and all dear Kins.h.i.+p. Love is the joy of kins.h.i.+p so deep that self is forgotten."

"Now I wonder if comrades.h.i.+p and kins.h.i.+p really mean just caring about the people we would have had to care about anyway, our own friends or our own family?"

Having unconsciously touched upon one of the biggest questions in the world and having no answer, the two girls were both silent for a moment.

Then Polly added in a surrender unusual to her:

"Don't worry, Betty, perhaps you are, right after all. n.o.body can live up to all the things we preach. Anyhow it was, good of you to ask Miss Martha to let Nan spend the day with us. She says she will never get over the pleasure of it as long as she lives."

"Don't, Polly, really I do not think I can be expected to bear any more.

You, have made me feel already that if Nan Graham ever does anything wrong or brings any sorrow on herself by her behavior, why it will somehow be my fault. Why do you make me responsible when you know Miss McMurtry and most of the other girls are just as opposed to having her with us as I am?" said Betty, realizing that her defense was a sign of weakness and yet feeling that Polly had somehow driven her to the wall.

"Because, Betty, you know that if you try you can bring some of the girls to your way of thinking and I can work on the others. Then together if we promise to be responsible for Nan's good behavior, why we may be able to influence Miss Martha."

Betty sighed. Mollie was catching up with them and they had almost reached camp, which was a scene of the most amazing activity.

"Ask me again to-night, Polly, I will try to think things over a little more."

There was no opportunity for any further discussion, for at this instant Meg and Eleanor swept down upon them.

CHAPTER XIV

SURPRISING THE CAMP

In the middle of the camping grounds on their return the girls now beheld Miss Martha McMurtry waving a large kitchen spoon in somewhat the same fas.h.i.+on that a conductor uses his baton to direct the energies of his orchestra. Rus.h.i.+ng from one spot to the other her aides were engaged in putting fresh wood on one smoldering camp fire, stirring up slumbering ashes in another, removing kettles to different points of vantage and generally giving the impression that they were preparing for the feeding of an army. However, they were only getting ready for the entertainment of a few of their Boy Scout friends.

Early that morning Nan Graham had been made to explain more fully the information bestowed on Polly the day before. It seemed that her father had been engaged to do odd jobs at the camp of the Scouts several miles away from Sunrise Hill and had overheard the plan of the young men to test the mettle of the Camp Fire girls. Take them by surprise, bear down upon them without warning, that was the way to discover whether the girls were lolling about reading novels and eating sweets as they suspected, or attending to the sterner duties of camp life. Subject them to the trial of preparing an impromptu meal for hungry guests, in short, see whether the effort of the girls to effect an organization similar in many respects to the Boy Scouts wasn't sheer bluff.

Nothing had been said, because of course it must have been so easy to surmise the amount of criticism and discussion that arose in Woodford when the village learned of the decision of the first Camp Fire girls'

club to spend the summer together in the woods. And sternest of all critics were the brothers, boy cousins and friends, most of whom belonged to the Boy Scout brigades, spending most of their spare time and money in them. For of course the thing that was good for a boy was for that very reason bad for a girl, an age old argument, beginning with the question of educating women at all and extending now to their right to the vote.

Curiously John Everett, Margaret's brother, was at first more bitterly opposed to the Camp Fire idea than any one else in Woodford. Meg's place was at home, every girl's was, even though there was no one at home with her. It was hard lines that his father had to be in Boston the greater part of the summer and that he would be in camp, but he was not going to have Meg getting drowned or burned up or worn out without masculine protection--away from home. Should any one of these misfortunes overtake her at home--why somehow it would be different.

But fortunately for Meg's summer happiness, her Professor father did not share in his son's opinions and after John had a long talk with Betty Ashton he became well, not convinced, but at least more open to conviction. Usually Betty did have this effect upon him, which was perhaps fortunate for them both.

So John Everett might certainly be expected as one of the surprise party and probably Jim Meade, Eleanor's brother Frank Wharton, and Ralph and Hugh Bowles, who belonged to the same group of friends, besides, well, it was the entire uncertainty in regard to the actual number of their visitors which was keeping the Camp Fire girls so extraordinarily busy, their idea being to have everything prepared and hidden away and then produced as though they were in the habit of having just such a magnificent supply of rations always on hand.

Eleanor and Meg had made an Irish stew of half their week's supply of meat and vegetables; Esther, a.s.sisted by Juliet Field, had baked enough beans for feeding half Beacon Street; while Miss McMurtry herself had presided over the giant loaves of brown bread, which can be easily boiled in closed tins and make specially superior camp food.

Upon Beatrice, Sylvia and the unwelcome newcomer, Nan Graham, had devolved the cleaning up of the camp grounds and their work had been most thoroughly done, but indeed no one could be accused, of anything approaching sloth this morning when so much of their future reputation was at stake. Only Edith Norton had been unable to help because of her work in town, but she hoped to be able to return to camp by noon so as not to miss the good times.

At eleven o'clock every bit of the work, of preparation had been accomplished and Nan's report had said that the Scouts expected to appear just about the noon luncheon hour. The food was hidden away in the kitchen tent and the girls rearranged their costumes, then after posting Nan, Beatrice and Sylvia as sentinels to give warning of the first approach of their guests, the other girls settled themselves to whatever occupations they considered might make the best impression.

Eleanor got out the Camp Fire log book, whose cover she had previously decorated with a wonderful sunrise appearing above the summit of a purple hill, and now began to ill.u.s.trate some of the inside pages with scenes recalling the events of the past ten days. Mollie's tastes were too domestic for any deception, so she went on with her pretty basket weaving, while Esther sat near her studying the Indian song received the day before. However, the really impressive occupation was conceived and engineered by Polly's dramatic sense, for she engaged Miss McMurtry and the rest of the girls in the mysteries of knot tying, one of the difficult feats of camp craft, since there are a good many more varieties of knots than one has fingers. For example, there is the square knot, bowline, alpine, kite string, half hitch, clove hitch for tying two ends together, and as many more for making knots at the end of a rope, and yet, unless one happens to be a Camp Fire girl, these comparatively simple accomplishments are entirely closed arts.

Now everybody at Sunrise Camp is accounted for excepting its solitary masculine member--Little Brother. During all the morning preparations he had been a very difficult problem, but finally washed and arrayed in a stiff white Russian blouse, Meg conceived the brilliant idea of attaching him to the camp totem pole. The pole was simply a tree cleared of its branches at the present time, which the girls hoped later on to develop into a real Indian totem pole, but standing just a few yards in front of the group of tents it formed a center for all eyes and therefore seemed the best possible place for keeping a little boy always in sight. Little Brother was at first very happy because he had with him the things he loved best: a discarded bathing shoe, a bottle of hard brown beans and an old cream whipper, that made the most delectable noises as one turned it about. Indeed, so soothing did its noises become that, on returning for the sixth time from her game to see that the small boy was safe, Meg discovered him fast asleep in a patch of suns.h.i.+ne on the gra.s.s.

Five minutes before noon Sylvia Wharton came running breathless with excitement from her sentry post. Dust was rising at some distance off in the curve of the lane where a path led across the fields to Sunrise Camp. Harder and faster the girls continued at their work, of course appearing superbly unconscious of possible interruption and yet ten minutes later, when Edith Norton returned from the village on her bicycle along the way of Sylvia's warning, there was a sort of general let-down feeling though no one confessed to it.

Then half an hour pa.s.sed, noon was in the background of the day and hunger was laying fierce hold on the camp members. Their practice of knot tying abruptly ceased, Eleanor put her book and paints aside with a sense of relief, Mollie and Esther arose sighing.

"We have got to have our own lunch, girls, we simply can't wait any longer," Miss McMurtry insisted, and no one seemed sufficiently inspirited to discuss the question, when unexpectedly a cry from Meg brought everybody to life.

Little Brother had disappeared! In spite of the professional knot-tying he had managed to slip away, leaving his moorings still attached to the pole. Ten seconds afterwards as many girls were searching for him, only Esther remaining behind with Miss McMurtry. As his small footprints led directly to the grove of pines, his favorite playing ground, the entire party sought him there, and after running about for an eighth of a mile searching and calling, they came across the young man throned high on the shoulders of a six-foot Scout, clothed in khaki and leather boots but wearing a perfectly absurd Indian head-dress and false-face. He was followed by ten other youths, gotten up in equally absurd fas.h.i.+ons for the complete bewilderment of the Camp Fire girls.

"Do take those ridiculous things off at once, John Everett," Betty demanded first, as she happened to be in advance of the other girls, and on John's immediately complying with her request, his companions followed his example. Then gaily the entire procession made for camp, but as Miss McMurtry and Esther heard them coming when some distance off, they did not seem particularly surprised at their advance. Indeed, the ridiculous fact was that the Scouts failed altogether to mention that their intention had been to steal into Sunrise Camp unperceived, and the girls were equally negligent in not expressing more profound amazement at their wholly unlooked-for visit.

Only there was one special bit of surprise for Betty Ashton and possibly for Esther as well. Richard Ashton had come down from Portsmouth to find out how Betty was getting on, and on hearing of the scouting expedition had joined their party. Of course he only spoke to Esther in the same fas.h.i.+on that he did to his sister's other friends, nevertheless she felt more at her ease, perhaps because he was her one acquaintance in the group of young men.

And Polly also had a surprise, though not so pleasant a one, for the youth whom she had tried to slay, like David did Goliath, was one of their Boy Scout guests and Polly wondered if it were her duty to inquire in regard to his wounded feelings or to pretend that to-day's more formal meeting was in reality their first?

CHAPTER XV