The Camp Fire Girls in the Outside World | Page 3

white paper.
She shook the paper. Had some one sent her a Thanksgiving present or
was she being made the victim of a joke? But from between the blank
sheets something slowly fluttered to her feet. And picking it up with a
little cry of surprise Betty saw a crisp new ten dollar bill.
Immediately her cheeks turned scarlet and her eyes filled with

indignant tears. Only by an effort of will could the tears be kept from
falling. Did any one of her friends consider her so poverty-stricken that
it was necessary to send her money in this anonymous fashion?
Scarcely waiting to think, Betty rushed out of the house and down the
old paved brick walk out into the street. For there might be a bare
chance that the messenger was not yet out of sight. Sure enough, there
he was still loitering on the corner about half a block away. Bareheaded,
and in her thin dress, with the money in her hand, the girl ran forward.
And actually as she reached the young man, she caught him fast by the
sleeve.
"Please, you must tell me who sent me this money or else take it back
at once and say that though I am very much obliged I cannot receive a
gift delivered in this secret fashion."
The two young people were standing near an electric light so that they
could now see each other plainly. Betty observed a tall, overgrown boy
with thin, straight features and clear hazel eyes, and now that his hat
was removed, a mass of curly dark hair, which had been vainly
smoothed down.
"I can't take the money back, since it belongs to you," the young man
answered awkwardly.
Inside her Betty heard a small voice whispering: "If it only really did!"
For the ten dollars would buy Christmas presents for her mother, for
Polly and Esther and others of her friends. Nevertheless she shook her
head.
"The money cannot be mine and so you must return it." Then finding
that her insistence was failing to have any effect, she dropped the
money on the ground at the young fellow's feet and walked away.
"But, Miss Ashton," the stranger's voice argued, "please believe me
when I say that this money is yours. Oh, of course I don't mean this
special ten dollar bill; for yours was spent nearly a year ago. But at
least the money represents the same amount."

Betty paused and again faced the speaker. There was sincerity in his
tone--a determined appeal. But what on earth could he be talking about?
He looked perfectly rational, although his statement was so
extraordinary.
"You don't recognize me and I am truly glad," the young man went on.
"But can't you recall once having befriended a fellow when instead you
ought to have sent him to jail? He did not deserve your kindness then.
He was actually trying to steal from you the money which you
afterwards gave him of your own free will. But he has tried since to be
honest."
He ceased abruptly. For Betty's eyes were shining and she was
thrusting her little cold hand into his big one.
"You're not!" she exclaimed.
"Yes I am," the boy returned.
"Anthony Graham, Nan's brother?" Betty laughed happily. "Then
please give me back the money I refused. I did not understand that you
were returning the loan. Of course I understand how you feel about it.
And do come back and into the house with me. I so want you to tell me
all about yourself. I hope you have had splendid luck."
The young man's shabby appearance did not suggest sudden riches.
Nevertheless he smiled.
For more than ever did Betty Ashton appear to him like the Princess of
his dreams. Only once before had he met her face to face. And yet the
vision had never left him. He could still see the picture of a girl moving
toward him, her face filled with shame--for him--and her eyes downcast;
and thrusting into his clenched fist, which had so lately been raised to
injure her, the money which had given him the desired opportunity for
getting away from his old associations and beginning again.
Enter her home and tell her of his struggle! Anthony felt far more like
kneeling in the dust at her feet. Yet being a boy he could only blush and

stammer without words to voice his gratitude.
Betty was beginning to shiver. "Please come, I am so lonely," she urged.
"I have had the horridest kind of a Thanksgiving day. Only a little
while ago I was having a hard time trying to remember the things that I
have to be thankful for."
CHAPTER II
BETTY'S KNIGHT
The drawing room fire was soon crackling. "It is so nice