THE GIRL SCOUTS AT
MISS ALLEN’S SCHOOL
CHAPTER I
OFF FOR BOARDING SCHOOL
“Secret societies! Whew! I’m glad they don’t have them at our school.”
The speaker, a boy of sixteen, perched himself upon the porch railing, and swung his legs contentedly, as if he had uttered the last word on the subject.
The two girls to whom the remark was addressed listened eagerly. Ruth Henry, the small, dark-haired one, who was obviously no relation of the boy, leaned forward. Challenging him with her eyes, she asked quickly:
“What makes you say that, Jack? Have you any grounds?”
The other girl, whose fair hair and straight nose resembled the boy strongly enough to identify her as his sister, looked impatient.
“He doesn’t know a thing about them,” she said.
“Now, listen, Marj,” remonstrated Jack in the tone one might use to a child, although his sister was only two years his junior, “haven’t you ever heard dad tell about the awful things some of those secret societies did when he was at college? They had a house without a single window, and with only one door—made of iron—and nobody ever knew what went on inside. But dad said one poor freshman, who was to be initiated, got rebellious and wouldn’t do the stunts; and they blindfolded him and threw him into the creek. It was cold, and he got pneumonia and died!”