CHAPTER XXII
A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK
The summer was drawing to a close. There were only two weeks more of Camp, and Round Robin was resolved to make the most of this fortnight, before the little group should scatter to the four quarters of the land. For as Dick said it was like “boxing the compass” when they compared their winter plans. Dick was putting in long hours finishing up his studies with Hugh, before starting back to his home in the far West. Beverly, like the summer birds which were already showing restless flutterings in the treetops, would soon be flitting South. Victor was going to try his fortunes in New York, where Norma lived. Gilda and the Batchelders were due in Boston, where the public schools open early. And Cicely must sail back to England before the autumn storms were due. Nelly Sackett was still in High School at Old Harbor; she alone would remain, it seemed. Then there was Anne. What about Anne?
Round Robin was agreed that they must all treat Anne exactly as if nothing had happened. Anne was still Anne, and they had voted her a full and satisfactory member. The thing was to have as good a time and to make her have as good a time as possible in the short weeks left of the precious summer. There weren’t likely to be any more such exciting happenings as had kept them all on tenterhooks during these last days. But there were picnics and excursions planned; the hours were not long enough for all the delightful things they had put off till the end of summer, while the days were already growing shorter.
The morning Anne was expected back to camp Tante sent the Twins off to pick blueberries. Cicely and Nancy had already started with baskets for a “mushroam,” as they called a tramp to find the delicious tawny chanterelles that hid in the shadows under the spruce trees. Dick was studying in his tent; some of the others had gone for the mail.
Beverly announced that she was going to see Sal Seguin. The old Indian woman was free again, but Captain Sackett had let her live in his barn for a day or two, while she was being questioned about what she had seen that night when Idlewild was burned. Beverly wanted to give her a little present before she went home, for she and the old woman had become very good friends. Tante was left alone at Round Robin to welcome Anne; which was exactly what she had planned. She did not know that at this very moment Norma was racing breathless along the road, hoping to intercept Anne at the end of Cap’n Sackett’s lane.
“Heia! Hoia!” sang Norma in her musical soprano as she spied the two girls coming towards her, and in her dramatic Italian way she flourished a paper high in the air. Anne and Nelly, who were talking earnestly together, stopped their conversation and came up to her with a question. It did not seem as if there could be any event left to cause such excitement.
“Good news!” called Norma, her big eyes shining. And running forward she seized Anne in her arms and kissed her warmly. “I have had an answer to my telegram. I thought it would come this morning.” The girls still stared. They did not know about any telegram. But Norma explained that it was from her father in New York. “Let me read it,” she said unfolding the paper. “I ran all the way from the Post Office because I couldn’t wait, Anne.”
The telegram was, after its kind, brief and emphatic. “‘Wire needs of your girl friend. How much? Tell her bank on me. G. Sonnino.’—There!” said Norma triumphantly. “That’s just like Father! Now it’s all right.”
But Anne looked puzzled. “What do you mean?” she said. “I don’t understand.”