The Camp Fire Girls Do Their Bit; Or, Over the Top with the Winnebagos by Frey

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Summary
Breathless, he looked at her, waiting for her to vanish, but she did not. Then it came to him that he might go to her, might reach her this time before she fled. He tried to shake it off, but it remained. He tried again, keeping his eyes on her all the time. Gettin' light-headed, wasn't you? Just drink it now, Looten't, and you'll feel all right." Sahwah looked at them with eager interest and classified their different branches of service by the color of the cord on their hats. "I can't decide which I shall do," sighed Hinpoha plaintively to the other three, who had foregathered in the library of the Bradford home one afternoon at the beginning of the summer. "I wish I were a man!" The boys have all the glory and excitement of war and the girls have nothing but the stupid, commonplace things to do. "Oh, yes, _women_ are," replied Sahwah, "but _girls_ aren't. We're just schoolgirls, and no one takes us seriously. There might as well not _be_ any war, for all I'm doing to help it. Said I was too young." "It's a shame," Hinpoha agreed sympathetically. "Do you want me to tell yours, Sahwah?" she asked eagerly. "Like the syrup we had on our pancakes in the station this morning," murmured Migwan. "All right, if you're going to laugh at me," she began. "Go on, we'll be good," said Migwan hastily. Please tell us when he is coming into her life, so we can be there to see." "Oh, I know who it is," she continued, giggling. He was awfully skinny, too. "There was another man, too," she announced, with a don't-you-wish-you'd-waited air, "but I won't tell you about him now. He was awfully queer, too; he was there twice, and once he was dark and once he was light!" "Maybe he faded," suggested Sahwah, giggling again. "Quit telling fortunes, Hinpoha. It's all nonsense, anyhow." "Yes," replied Gladys, "and do you remember the time you predicted I was going to flunk math at midyears and I took the prize?" said Sahwah slily. she asked. "I haven't heard from her for several months," replied Sahwah, "but I suppose she's still in New York. "It's queer about Veronica," continued Sahwah musingly. "Veronica's an alien enemy now," said Gladys in an awed tone. "_In-terned,_ not _interred_," she corrected. "You don't need to call the attention of the whole car to the fact that I made a little mistake. Hinpoha was saying. She will be perfectly safe. She's crazy about America. "Poor Veronica," said Gladys softly. I love her dearly, even if her country _is_ our enemy." _She_ isn't our enemy. She has such intense feelings about things, you know. said Sahwah again. "Your romantic notions make me tired sometimes, Hinpoha. replied Sahwah, with a fine flash from her brown eyes. The other three echoed her sigh and reflected sadly upon their circumscribed sphere, and Sahwah's dream of being another Joan of Arc flickered out into darkness. "Well, there's one thing we have to be thankful for," she said feelingly. "If we can't help to make history, we won't have to learn it, either. "Oh, may we?" "Oh, lookee!" The others looked and also exclaimed in wonder and delight. cried Sahwah, enraptured. My name is Wing, Mr. Ira B. Wing." returned Hinpoha. Come along, and we'll see if we can't get to Oakwood before dark." he inquired. "I'm going there too. My name is Prince, Eugene Prince." "Glad to meet you," replied Mr. Wing heartily. "Come along." "Sahwah! "Oh, Nyoda, how splendid!" cried Hinpoha, her artistic soul delighted beyond measure at the hedge and the walk and the white door with its quaint knocker. asked Nyoda quizzically. "Well, what _were_ they, then? Oh, what a shame! Anyway, you needn't laugh, Sahwah. "Oh, Sahwah, you imp, you're making that up," said Gladys in a skeptical tone. I declare, that was too bad!" "Serves you right for getting poetical about me," retorted Hinpoha. "I inherited this place a few months after I was married," replied Nyoda. "Oh, Nyoda, I should think you would have died of joy!" "This house has seen proud days in its time," went on Nyoda. "They fought in the Revolution, in the Civil War, and in the Spanish-American War. I am the last of the Carvers, and I am only a woman." "But you've done all that you _could_ do," said Migwan staunchly. "Yes," she echoed softly, "the last of the Carvers has done her bit." "Why, Nyoda," said Sahwah in surprise, "I didn't know you had a cook. Nyoda looked nonplussed for a moment and then she laughed heartily. "By urgent invitation, sweet lambs," replied Nyoda, "just like some other people I could name. Come, Veronica, roll down your sleeves and take your rightful place at the table. It was an ideal moment for confidences, for heart-to-heart talks, and they spoke of many things which were sacred to one another, little intimate echoes of the days when they first learned to work and play together. It had such a screaming, ugly cry instead of a song. "You belonged to the upper class, didn't you?" "It is true, we were not poor," answered Veronica, "we were not oppressed like the peasants. It was everyone for himself then, and we were all in the same boat." I want to become an American and never wish to leave this country. I want to be an American girl like the rest of you. She paused to squeeze Sahwah's hand, which rested on the arm of her chair. Veronica nodded casually and went on talking about her uncle. All he cared for was music. Of course there was quite a stir about it and he changed his name and took his grandmother's maiden name, which was Lehar. Lehar.'" "No," replied Veronica in a perfectly matter-of-fact voice, "I simply assumed that name at his suggestion. Have you got one, too?" "I _did_ have," she corrected gently. "I haven't it any more. "My father was the Baron Szathmar-Vasarhély," replied Veronica. "We never _dreamed_ your name had ever been anything else but Lehar!" "I did so want to be an American like the rest of you. she pleaded wistfully. "They can't make me go back, can they?" Veronica, in a passion, was something to strike awe into the breast of the beholder. she declared. How do they know that I escaped on horseback to the Carpathian Mountains and with other refugees traveled across Roumania to the Black Sea and finally found friends who sent me to my uncle in America? Many of them perished in the mountains, many are in other countries. How do they know but what I perished, too? she asked in a hushed tone. "Lots of times," replied Veronica in a matter-of-fact way. They're hardly ever handsome, not at all like the princes in the fairy tales. she replied, highly amused. "The first prince I ever met," she began, dropping down on the floor beside the spinning wheel in the corner and leaning her head against it, "was Prince Ferdinand of Negol, which is one of the small Eastern provinces of Hungary. He was an old man, seventy years of age, and he had both the gout and the asthma. Not a bit like a story book prince, Hinpoha. "Oh, come on, tell us about him," coaxed the Winnebagos. "He was Prince Karl Augustus of Hohenburg," replied Veronica. He wasn't an ideal prince, either, although he was quite young. His wife was a Hungarian." They had seen it hundreds of times before, but had never guessed it was the gift of a prince. Truly, Veronica was full of surprises! "Not at all," she replied in a firm voice. asked Migwan, peering fearfully into the shadows behind the house. "What is he, a rhinocerous?" asked Migwan. It was a perfect day, not a cloud in the sky, nor was the sun so hot that protection from it was necessary. Mr. Carrington asked, 'Why the umbrella?' "Oh, Nyoda, how screamingly funny!" asked Gladys wonderingly. "I can't help myself," replied Nyoda with another tragic gesture. said Sahwah. asked Sahwah, mystified. "Come, Veronica, give us some music on the violin before we go to bed." It was an oil painting, a portrait of a young girl in a short-waisted white satin dress, clasping in her hands a red rose. "Who is the girl in the picture, Nyoda?" asked Sahwah, whose eyes had been drawn irresistibly to the portrait ever since she had been in the room. "That is the portrait of Elizabeth Carver," replied Nyoda. I was named after her. That harp was hers, likewise the bed in which you are going to sleep, Sahwah. That is the tale of Elizabeth Carver, my namesake." "Oh, Nyoda, how splendid!" cried Sahwah, with sparkling eyes. asked Nyoda. Then I put it on again, and I never thought of it since." "Was it the one your mother gave you, with her picture in?" asked Migwan, sympathetically. "No," replied Hinpoha. "It was the Roman gold one Aunt Phoebe gave me for Christmas last year and I had Sahwah's picture in it, that little head she had taken when she graduated." "I suppose I lost it in the scramble when we got out of the train," Hinpoha sighed regretfully, "and that's the end of it. "I wish I had known you. Could you do Trudgeon, and Australian Crawl? Girls didn't swim as much in your day as they do now, I believe. "You must have looked beautiful playing on it," resumed Sahwah in soft, musing tones. She turned, and there was Hinpoha with two strange girls. "Oh, Sahwah, are you alone?" Girls, this is our Sahwah, once named Sarah Ann Brewster, but now only Sahwah the Sunfish." "They are very good names, too, in their way, even Alta and Agnes, but you're not to use them under any circumstances. "Hinpoha, my angel of light, come to my arms once more! "And just alike, too! "Easy," said Agony brightly. Also her eye detected other, subtler, differences. She's a real baroness," she added. Then she turned to Hinpoha. "You are a Hungarian, are you?" Nyoda, however, still felt disturbed about Veronica. "I suppose it _would_ be better not to tell people about it," agreed Veronica. "Certainly we'll keep it to ourselves," replied Agony readily. asked Sahwah curiously. "With your help we can do it," continued Agony. asked Sahwah. "Beat Hillsdale," replied Agony. They've done it, too, in most respects. Everybody thinks they're perfectly wonderful and their own personal opinion is that there never was anything created quite as marvelous as they. You'll get up a company of the girls here, won't you?" she pleaded eagerly. "Oh, goody!" cried Agony. Oh, poor Hillsdale! Poor, poor Hillsdale!" Agony, jubilant, waved her parasol around her head wildly. There's another guest coming, an artist who has just come to town. she wound up. "He's very grand looking, but jolly, too," said Sahwah. "Lots of people are afraid of father," Agony chatted on. "He's Assistant District Attorney in Philadelphia, you know. He is always gentle with us, but he can be very stern with people when he wants to. "_ murmured the Winnebagos, quite impressed. "We've got to go this minute!" Mr. Prince, the artist, was there too; he and Mr. Wing were like old friends already. he amended. "No," replied Veronica with a sigh. "I was born in Hungary. Sahwah happened to be looking at Mr. said Sahwah hotly to herself and filled up with angry resentment at him as he continued to watch Veronica narrowly. Agony was talking animatedly about the coming drill contest and Mr. Wing was listening with smiling approval. he exclaimed to the Winnebagos. shrieked Agony and Oh-Pshaw simultaneously, and "Oh!" "Sing a cheer to Mr. cried Sahwah, and the others complied with a vigor that made the dishes ring: "You're the B-E-S-T, best, Of all the R-E-S-T, rest, Oh, I love you, I love you all the T-I-M-E, time! "I wish I could be there to see." "Oh, tell us about it," cried Agony eagerly. Agony was perfectly well aware of the fact that her father would never tell anything at home that was not also given out to the newspapers, but she liked to hear him tell that little in his own way. "We know he was only a tool in the hands of some powerful German agency, but who or what it is we do not know. he cried. Sahwah was by nature cool and unemotional, and not given to those sudden flares of friendship with which so many girls are constantly being consumed, which burn brilliantly for a short season and them go out of their own accord; it usually took a long time to kindle a friendship with her. Sahwah herself could not understand her sudden, fierce, almost motherly love for Veronica. Somehow or other the focus had changed, a corner had been turned. It was Veronica that seemed to inspire these feelings, and similarly, it was these feelings that seemed to draw her to Veronica. Fully wide awake, Sahwah leaned farther over the sill and watched. But there were no disturbing sounds anywhere; Kaiser Bill was not out. Veronica did not go into the barn; she went around behind it and struck into the path that led down the hill to the carriage road below. Sahwah was very far sighted, and constant practice in focusing on distant objects enabled her to distinguish plainly things quite far away. The others must not find out what she had seen to-night. What time was it, anyway, eleven? It was half past two. Sahwah shook her head. rasped the voice. '_ Here, Redhead!" "Now, FRONT! Again, RIGHT DRESS! R-r-r-e-a-d-y! M-a-r-r-k t-i-m-e, M-a-h-k! Wake _up_ there, Redhead!" Left! Left! Left! Left! You with the plaid tie, get in step!" She had been trained in military drilling by an army drill officer and had acquired all his mannerisms, from the way of shouting his orders in such a way that it was next to impossible to understand them, to his merciless habit of calling out by name every one who made the slightest error. Head to the front, there, Black Eyes! R-r-e-a-d-y! They gloried in their discomfort. "How did we do to-day, Miss Raper?" "No matter which one she says, I always go in the opposite direction. "I had the same trouble at first, but I'm getting sort of used to her now." "Cheer up, child," said Migwan, "it isn't nearly as bad as you make out. "I hope so," said Oh-Pshaw with a sigh. "You'll _have_ to get over it," said Agony emphatically. Sahwah slipped her arm through Veronica's. "Let's go over into the woods awhile before lunch," she said, "just us two." It was a pleasant place, this strip of woods crowning a gently rolling hill behind the town. Veronica and Sahwah often came here on their walks. Sahwah was more quiet, and there was a sober look in her eyes. Sahwah was behind the big carved settle in the hall, fishing for a bead that had rolled underneath, when the telephone rang. The telephone was in the hall, at the other end near the dining-room door. Yes, I can. I will come immediately. The coast is clear. The hall was empty; Veronica was not there. Sahwah darted to the front door, expecting to see Veronica going down the walk to the street, but there was no sign of her. Sahwah's heart turned to water within her, and the strength went from her knees so that she could not stand up. Veronica, one of the Winnebagos! No, no! She would be true to Veronica and keep what she knew to herself, until she found out the truth. She would never let Veronica know that she suspected her, never. "Sahwah! Oh, Sahwah! "Here," she answered, appearing at the back door. she asked in a voice which she hoped sounded idle and casual. "Gone up to her room to lie down a while," replied Nyoda. "Come on and help pick raspberries," said Nyoda. "We miss your nimble fingers." Sahwah's heart bounded painfully. "Let me take it up," she begged. "All right," replied Migwan. "Come, sit on my bed, and make my headache go away, like you did once before." No, it could not be possible that she could be connected with anything that aimed to harm it. "Oh, look at the darling old stump!" "Why, it must be _miles_ across! See, it has a sort of step up and then a broad seat, just like a throne. Come on, let's climb up and pretend we're queens." she asked finally, twisting her head and looking around into Sahwah's face. The sun was so hot out there in the road where we were drilling, and the glare was so blinding." "No, I haven't a headache," replied Sahwah slowly. "A toothache, maybe?" "No, it isn't a toothache," replied Sahwah. asked Veronica eagerly. Sahwah was silent for a moment, seemingly engaged in some inward struggle with herself. "Sahwah dear," she said, looking her straight in the eye, "it's perfectly true, all that you said. But as for the explanation, I can't give it now. I wouldn't want you to tell me yours, if you had one." said Veronica, looking at Sahwah and thinking how much like the brook she was herself. "Oh, I do, I do," said Sahwah, taking off her shoes and stockings and wading into the limpid stream. "See, it looks just like a punch bowl." asked Sahwah. "Don't worry, you precious old goosie," said Sahwah, laughing. "I didn't mean _really_. I was only in fun. It must be deep, though, or the Indian couldn't have jumped in. "Oh, it's nice here," breathed Veronica, revelling in the coolness. "It isn't the primeval forest, either," said Veronica. he exclaimed with a dramatic wave of the hand. Then he stood transfixed, the gesture frozen in mid-air. "Sahwah!" he gasped. cried Sahwah. he asked in alarm. he exclaimed elegantly. cried Sahwah. "We are," replied the Captain, looking from one to the other of the girls with a face beaming with delight at the unexpected meeting. Sahwah explained and extended a cordial invitation for the two boys to come to Carver House whenever they had time. "She certainly is," replied Sahwah. he asked anxiously. "You see," he exclaimed, "today is Slim's birthday and we were going to celebrate by having a chicken dinner. By the way, Slim, where is it now?" "It's gone," he said with a sigh of regret. "It was the hatchet. "Oh, you funny boys!" said Sahwah, laughing uncontrollably. "I couldn't," replied the Captain gravely. "Oh, you babes in the woods, you!" said Sahwah, with another burst of laughter. "You must be having the time of your lives." "We are," replied the Captain. Come on and stay, we want you. We're lonesome." asked Nyoda, noticing that her place was vacant Nobody knew. I would be, too, if I was forever trotting the way she is. "She probably heard your horn on the other side of the woods," said Nyoda, laughing, "and got here before it stopped blowing." asked Nyoda, looking up inquiringly from the cup of cocoa she was handing to Gladys. repeated Nyoda. "What is it, a riddle?" "No, a kite," replied Sahwah impatiently. "I haven't the slightest idea," replied Nyoda. "It's open to outsiders," replied Sahwah. replied Hinpoha. Do you think she'd fly high, Nyoda?" she asked anxiously. "I can't say," replied Nyoda. All you can do is make one and try." The trial was a success. "Out in the woods there's a place where there are some," replied Sahwah. "We might take our supper out in the woods," suggested Nyoda. "Let's take Many Eyes along and make her our official mascot," suggested Sahwah. "We can install her with ceremonies, like we did Eeny-Meeny." began Agony. commanded Sahwah. "No," explained Sahwah. "This is Many Eyes, our entry in the Boy Scout's kite-flying contest. Hinpoha was trying to think of "unsurpassable," and "impassable" was the nearest she came to it. asked Sahwah eagerly. "Several," replied Agony. "Scout Troops Number One, Two and Three were entered." "Come on, then. Agony was ready to burst long before the time limit was up. Ah, the smoke, sweetly scented, It will rise, it will rise, it will rise!" Oh, Chapa, we sing to you! Oh, Medmangi, we sing to you!" Agony was fond of the Guardian, too, but naturally was not profoundly influenced by association with her. But there was an altogether different atmosphere in the Winnebago group, as Agony soon discovered. Nyoda looked at her with serious, thoughtful eyes. As yet she had seen no evidence of a humble desire to lose herself so deeply in the joy of service for others that self was forgotten. Agony was a born leader, there was no doubt about that, but Nyoda knew that she was not yet ruler over her own spirit. "Well, I didn't know it," Agony whispered back, not a whit abashed. "Are you ready to be a Torch Bearer, too?" she asked. "Oh, no," replied Oh-Pshaw modestly. As yet she did not know. asked Nyoda. "It fairly makes my blood curdle. "Why, how queer!" said Sahwah, unable to understand how anyone could be afraid of her beloved element, and the others laughed, too, thinking that Oh-Pshaw was only exaggerating, as most girls do over their little peculiarities. I love to hear it, day or night. "It was just made for flying kites." "They said they were," replied Sahwah. "Father's coming, too," said Agony. "He came home this morning. He said he would get Mr. "Oh, Sahwah, there isn't time," said Hinpoha hopelessly. replied Sahwah. "I believe I'd have time to paint a face on her," said Hinpoha. "There isn't time to do any more, Hinnpoha," she said. She'll just have to go as she is." objected Hinpoha. "She's a kite, and that's all she needs to be. "Some of those little sample bags of salt," replied Migwan. wailed Hinpoha. "Too late to change now," said Sahwah. "Why, it looks perfectly _crazy_. Everybody will laugh at it. "Well, _I_ care what she looks like," returned Agony. "Let them laugh," retorted Sahwah, "I don't care." "Oh, come on," said Migwan good-naturedly, "stop arguing about it. We won't win, of course, but we'll show the boys that we're game, anyway. Be a sport, Agony, and come on." Hinpoha was aghast. she wailed. "Just leave the pieces, I'll sweep them up when I come back." "We've got to be sports now and not back down," was the only thing she would say. The other entries had already arrived on the scene when the Winnebagos got there, and a good many of the Oakwood boys and girls had assembled to watch the contest. It was a sort of natural amphitheatre, for a grassy hill curved around two sides of it, making an ideal place for the spectators to sit and watch what was going on below. However, they were game and promised to shout for her with all their might. "Ho, ho!" he scoffed. So she walked away from him, too, and took her place with the contestants, who were forming in a line in the field. SAMMY BOY! SAMMY BOY!" As Slim said, she "made them look like a row of stationary wash tubs." "Now, can a girl design a kite?" asked Sahwah triumphantly. he finished curiously. "So she could see where she was going," replied Sahwah gravely. persisted the Scout. asked the Captain of Sahwah, scowling crossly after the leading boat, which was already drawing away from the rest of the party. "He's an artist, his name is Prince," replied Sahwah. "She thinks he's the most wonderful man she ever met," replied Sahwah. he exclaimed, disgusted with himself. "Oh, hang it all, anyway!" Sahwah burst out vehemently. "Why, Sahwah!" I think he's perfectly wonderful," she added. "So polished, and such charming manners." said the artist, nearly dropping his oar in his surprise. "Is _that_ loud enough, Nyoda?" she asked. The American army didn't goose-step, remember. Try it again. There, that's better. "Now we'll do it with the scenery," announced Nyoda. "Come on, scenery, all up! Oh, Migwan. All right, you two stand there and sway gently in the breeze. Oh, here you are, Sahwah. And the rest of the Guns, that's you, Veronica. Here, you Guns, stack yourselves against Trees." demanded Nyoda. giggled Trees. "Now, where's the Moon?" asked Nyoda, knitting her brows in thought. "How does a moon rise, anyway?" asked Gladys in perplexity. 'Curtain rises. Trees on left, more trees on right, guns stacked against trees. Moon rises,' All right, Moon, rise!" "Now beam over the trees, Moon." "Eclipse of the Moon," laughed Nyoda, rushing to the aid of the fallen one. "Let Sahwah be it, she's more of an acrobat." Try it again." "There, that's all right, now don't forget to do it the next time. Oh, yes, here's where I come in." "But we want it all to be a surprise for them," Sahwah reminded her. "But she's supposed to be in the audience, too," objected Oh-Pshaw. "We'll have to do without that one rocking chair in the last act. Anyway, we don't need three rocking chairs, two are plenty." "Next scene, home of Betsy Ross," proclaimed Nyoda. "Trees, you'll have to turn into a chair in this scene, and More Trees, you turn into another chair. First Soldier, you'll become Betsy Ross. "I can't do anything if they're going to rock," gasped Betsy. "You'll _have_ to get used to it," said Nyoda emphatically. Here, take this towel for a baby until you can find a doll. Here, you hold the baby and I'll make one.' Now, all ready!" It makes a wailing noise in a high key. Try it again, now." demanded Betsy. asked Nyoda. "I was going to bring it along with the rest of the things, and then I forgot it. "Run, head him off, quick!" "Oh, he's got the flag!" asked Sahwah. "Oh, give him away, or sell him--anything," replied Nyoda. "Hercules, come here!" Hercules approached with a painfully stew, shuffling gait. "What is it, Mis' Elizabeth?" he inquired mildly, eyeing his mistress with affection in his look. "Hercules," said Nyoda crisply, "we're going to get rid of that goat." "This is positively the last straw. asked Nyoda. he broke out pleadingly. He'd come back just as fast as you'd give him away! "You're right," she said. He'd come back. The only way to get rid of him is to kill him. Hercules looked at her unbelievingly, and shook his head. "I mean it," repeated Nyoda. "I'm going to get rid of that goat." "'T's all one ter me now," he said sadly. 'T's all one ter me." "We'll have a Court Martial," announced Sahwah. "Oh, we'll get Slim and the Captain to do it," replied Sahwah. "I've just come home on a flying trip over night," he explained. asked the artist. The two men passed up the street, talking in low tones. "Seems to be a party going on here," remarked Mr. Wing. You're just in time for the party." she asked. "Certainly," he replied, and went in and turned the light on for her and then went on downstairs. It was a plaintive, melancholy melody she played first, throbbing with unsatisfied longing and quivering with pain and heartbreak. "God, what playing!" "She said she wanted to be alone," said Nyoda thoughtfully. "She always does, you know, when she has a headache. "You see," he continued, turning to the girls, "the Captain and I were practising shooting at a target once, out in the country, and the Captain came so near the bull's eye that he shot the perch out from under a parrot in a cage fifty feet away. O Mother dear, Jerusalem! "Uttered like a man, Captain," grinned Slim. asked the boy, looking from one to the other. "Here," replied Nyoda, holding out her hand for the envelope. Nyoda stepped into the hall, switched on the light and tore open the envelope. "What is it, Nyoda?" asked the girls, crowding around her in alarm. Come. "Come," she said, in her usual calm, brisk tones, "I have to make haste. It goes through here about four. Help me pack, girls." Sahwah was coming up the cellar stairs with a basket of clothes in her hand. There stood Veronica, with her violin under her arm and her hat and coat on. "So did the rest of them," replied Veronica imperturbably. asked Veronica presently. "Yes," replied Sahwah, "and, O Veronica--" and she told her the news. "Oh, poor, poor Nyoda!" "How did Sherry, happen to be on the ocean?" Veronica nodded. "Everything," replied Veronica. "Plenty of time," said Migwan soothingly. You'll be careful, won't you?" "Yes, Nyoda," they all promised. Don't worry." "I'll send you my address as soon as I get there, so you can write me. "Yes, Nyoda, we'll find everything, don't worry." "There's the car," said Sahwah. "A quarter to four. Here, let me take the suitcase." "Here they are," said Migwan, handing them to her. "Train's on time," he announced, coming back to the group. "Be good, girlies," she said, smiling bravely at them. "Oh, Nyoda, _dear_ Nyoda! We'll pray for you and Sherry." The conductor stood on the platform, watch in hand. "Good-bye, Nyoda!" No. It was all over in such quick time that they hardly had time to draw breath. Sahwah was still piecing together the events of the night before when the shrill ring sounded through the house again. asked Sahwah in consternation, forgetting her own great news at the sight of Agony's expression. "It's Veronica," Agony burst out breathlessly. asked Sahwah in alarm. Sahwah's heart thumped queerly and then seemed to stand still at this climax of her forebodings. she asked faintly. It looks as though she took it, and the Secret Service man arrested her." gasped Sahwah. Sahwah's head was in a whirl, and she sat down weakly on the stairs. "But," continued Agony, "don't you see? said Sahwah flatly. She didn't like him. Papa could hardly believe it of her, either, but the Secret Service man and Mr. Prince are perfectly sure she did it." "Mr. demanded Sahwah. "I don't know, I never told him," declared Agony, bristling as though she thought Sahwah suspected she had told. Sahwah declared fiercely. cried Sahwah savagely, "do _you_ believe Veronica's a traitor?" "No, I don't," she said meekly. "Don't be so savage, Sahwah." Sahwah subsided. "Where is Veronica?" she asked. The Secret Service man sent me over here to bring all you girls over, he wants to talk to you." "These are the girls with whom Miss Lehar is staying," said Mr. Wing. "Yes," answered Migwan and Hinpoha and Gladys together. Sahwah was silent. "Was she?" he asked directly of Sahwah. The others looked at her in astonishment. Veronica returned the look steadily, and then she spoke. Sahwah nodded. "Tell all the circumstances connected with the incident," Agent Sanders directed Sahwah. "There weren't any circumstances connected with it," replied Sahwah earnestly. "Yes," replied Sahwah, "but when she came in I decided she had been out for a walk." "No, it didn't," replied Sahwah eagerly. "She often does it." continued the agent. "Yes." He turned abruptly to Veronica. "Where did you go when you left this house last night?" he asked pointblank. The agent looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he asked, "Whom did you meet down there at the edge of town?" Veronica did not answer. "I didn't meet anybody," said Veronica, returning his gaze steadfastly. "Where did you go, then?" "Answer me." Then he renewed his questioning. "You took that letter to somebody, didn't you?" "I did not," replied Veronica emphatically. I never saw it, and I never heard of it until you accused me of taking it." The agent smiled knowingly. "To a friend of mine." Sahwah looked around at the various faces. Sahwah lingered. she said fiercely, facing the three men fearlessly. "Possibly," said Agent Sanders drily. The agent said nothing, only went on making notes in his little book. "_You_ know she is all right," pleaded Sahwah. "You don't understand, my dear," he said patiently. "Oh-h," said the Winnebagos. "You see," he went on gently, "Agent Sanders is only doing his duty in arresting her. The case against her is pretty strong, you'll have to admit. asked Sahwah despairingly. Only Sahwah, with her faith in her friend unshaken, though circumstances pointed accusing fingers from every direction, declared stoutly, "She didn't, I know she didn't. They had written her about Veronica's plight, but there was no answer to that. So it was with the Winnebagos. They all realized this, and were filled with sorrowful forebodings. Only Sahwah stood out stanchly for her right along, refusing to doubt her for a moment. she declared vehemently. His anxiety was all for his girls, for fear they had already compromised themselves in some way. "The first thing you know you'll be suspected of connivance yourselves," he warned. "And I also advise you not to express too much sympathy for your friend," he continued. Stricken, Sahwah sped home, and fleeing from the others, went into the woods by herself. she called. "Here, take the scissors." "Oh, read it out loud, Migwan, I can't wait until it's passed around." Sherry is out of danger, he rounded the corner today, and there isn't much doubt about his recovery. Beds were everywhere--in the offices, in the corridors, in the entries. Then he turned around and saw me standing there, and I said quietly, "I am his wife." He and the nurse exchanged glances, and he looked distressed. I was surprised myself. One of the men I waited on was a friend of Sherry's, a Y.M.C.A. man. I must stop now, because Sherry is clamoring for refreshments. Your blissful, too-thankful-to-live NYODA. P.S. "She probably forgot it, she was so thankful about Sherry," said Gladys. "Not she," replied Sahwah positively. Agony was in a high feather. The contest was at five in the afternoon, after the parade and before the evening's program of fireworks. said Oh-Pshaw, turning quite cold. It was a home thrust, and Agony knew it. The contest took place on Commons Field. Oakwood had lost. It was all over. Oakwood had trusted in them, and they had not fulfilled the trust. By and by Sahwah looked around and missed her. she asked. "I don't know," replied Hinpoha, noticing for the first time that she was no longer in the tent. "She was here a minute ago." She had taken Sahwah with her once. Of course that was where she would go. Sahwah hesitated a moment. I've seen balloons before, and I'll see them again." "Hello," she responded forlornly to Sahwah's greeting. "Don't take it so to heart," said Sahwah cheerfully. "Oh, come, they will, too," said Sahwah. Come on back. asked Sahwah, bending solicitously over the injured member and inspecting the damage. "It's an aeroplane," said Sahwah. It's coming in this direction, over the woods. "Where is he, is he gone?" "No, there he is," she cried, as the machine suddenly shot into sight directly above them. she screamed, "it's coming down!" Sahwah shook her roughly by the shoulder. she asked in a hoarse whisper. "No, he isn't, he's _struggling_. Sahwah held on to the machine with one hand and with the other reached down and brought his head up out of the water again. He had fainted. "I can't get him out." Impulsively Sahwah opened it. Why, it _was_ Hinpoha's locket! It was a puzzle Sahwah could not solve. "I couldn't make it," sobbed Oh-Pshaw. Sahwah explained briefly. Now she had to do it. She pressed her hands tightly over the wound as Sahwah had showed her, and tried to close her ears to the gurgling. But the old terror had her by the throat, suffocating her, paralyzing her hands. Then, for the first time in her life Oh-Pshaw began to fight the fear. asked Migwan with a smile. "Well, 'euphonious,' then," amended Hinpoha. Then she thought of something else, and broke out afresh. asked Migwan. "I don't know," replied Hinpoha. He hasn't shown up yet, but he will, you see if he doesn't." said Agony in a hushed voice. said Agony contritely. "I take it all back, Oh-Pshaw. She had no desire to sit near him, even if he _was_ asleep. It was a sorry wreck, she decided, after a moment's inspection. Sahwah looked at it curiously, but did not open it. A letter from a woman, it undoubtedly was. Sahwah held it in her hand and spelled out the letters, and then all at once she knew what it was. It was an Iron Cross of the First Class. She had been right after all, Veronica was innocent, and her faith in her had not been betrayed. The woods had swallowed him. he exclaimed. Then he told about him. His father is a German count, his mother was an American. He was a great old actor, all right. But Von Oldenbach wasn't interned with her, not much. "Eugene Prince, indeed! He had such winning ways he could take up with anybody. You see how it has worked with yourself, Mr. Wing. As it is, he'll probably never be caught now. He's too clever. He'll fool the officers yet, as he's done before." "The doorbell," answered Sahwah, jumping out of bed and putting on her slippers. The other girls were awake by this time, calling to each other. cried Hinpoha hoarsely, as she saw Sahwah preparing to go down. "I'm going to see who's there," said Sahwah hardily. "Come on, all of you, come down with me." "Come on," whispered Sahwah. "It's I, Nyoda," answered the dearest voice in the world. asked Nyoda in surprise. "We never got any telegram," said Migwan. "I suppose it'll get here to-morrow," said Nyoda resignedly. "Oh, if I had only known!" she cried wildly. Oh, the poor, poor child, why didn't she tell?" Sherlock Holmes, we salute you!" "Hi, there, look out!" he called warningly. That person was the artist, Eugene Prince. Sahwah was once more the heroine of the Winnebagos. said Sahwah, with another giggle. High up over the water, on the Council Rock, the Winnebagos held solemn ceremonial. "It was all true, the fortune you told Sahwah," said Migwan in a hushed voice. "Oh, Nyoda!" "Hasn't it been a summer, though!"