Campfire Girls in the Allegheny Mountains | Page 4

thing. It just burst into evidence through such
mock jeers as, "You boys think you are so smart," or "It's a wonder you

wouldn't have gone to enough pains to build a railroad or sink a
submarine."
To which, on one occasion in the course of the evening, Earl Hamilton
replied:
"Thank you, ladies; we always do things thorough."
"-ly!" screamed Katherine Crane. Yes, it was really a scream, an
explosion, too, if the indelicacy may be excused. But the opportunity
for a come-back struck her so keenly, so swiftly, that she just could not
contain her eagerness to beat somebody else to it.
Well, the laugh that followed also was of the nature of an explosion.
And it was on poor Katherine quite as much as on Earl, who had
tripped up on an adjective in place of an adverb. The girl's eagerness
was so evident that it struck everybody as funnier than the boy's
mistake in grammar. Anyway, she recovered quite smartly and
followed up her attack with this pert addendum as the laughter
subsided:
"You evidently don't do your lessons thorough-ly." The emphasis on
the "-ly" was so pronounced, almost spasmodic, as to bring forth
another laughing applause.
This exchange of repartee took place in the large school auditorium, to
which all repaired as soon as the outdoor exercises had been finished.
The program of the evening was punctuated by interruptions of this
kind every now and then. Of course, the fun-makers waited for suitable
opportunities to spring their "quips and cranks," so that no merited
interest in the doing could be lost. And none of it was lost. The
presence of the bold invaders seemed to add zest to the most routine of
the Camp Fire performances, and when all was over everybody was
agreed that there had not been a dull minute during the whole evening.
At the close of the Camp Fire Girls' program the 150 Boy Scouts arose
and, with heroic unison of voices peculiar to much practice in the

delivery of school yells, they chanted a clever parody of Wo-he-lo
Cheer, a Boy Scout's compliment to the Camp Fire Girls, and then
marched out of the auditorium and away toward the interurban line,
where their chartered train was waiting for them, and all the while they
continued the chant with variations of the words, the rhythmic drive of
their voices pulsing back to the Institute, but becoming fainter and
more faint until at last the sound was lost with the speeding away of the
trolley train in the distance.
* * * * *

CHAPTER III.
THE SKULL AND CROSS-BONES.
If Marion Stanlock, "High Peak" in the trait and a torch bearer, had
read one of two letters, signed with a "skull and cross-bones," which
she found lying on the desk in her room after the adjournment of the
Grand Council Fire, doubtless there would have been an interruption,
and probably a change, in the holiday program of the Flamingo Camp
Fire. She saw the letters lying there and under ordinary circumstances
would have torn them open and read them, however hastily, before
retiring. But on this occasion she was rather tired, owing to the
activities and the excitement of the day and evening. Moreover, she
realized that she could not hope for anything but a wearisome journey
to Hollyhill on the following day unless she refreshed herself with as
many hours sleep as possible before train time.
So she merely glanced at the superscriptions on the envelopes to see if
the letters were from any of her relatives or friends, and, failing to
recognize either of them, she put them into her handbag, intending to
read them at the first opportunity next morning. Then she went to bed
and fell asleep almost instantly.
Marion was awakened in the morning by her roommate, Helen Nash,
who had quietly arisen half an hour earlier. The latter was almost ready

for breakfast when she woke her friend from a sleep that promised to
continue several hours longer unless interrupted. She had turned on the
electric light and was standing before the glass combing her hair.
Marion glanced at the clock to see what time it was, but the face was
turned away from her and the light in the room made it impossible for
her to observe through the window shades that day was just breaking.
"What time is it, Helen?" she asked. "Did the alarm go off? I didn't hear
it. What waked you up?"
Helen did not answer at once. For a moment or two her manner seemed
to indicate that she did not hear the questions of the girl in bed. Then,
as if suddenly rescuing her mind from thoughts that appealed to have
carried her away into some far distant abstraction, she