They both swore solemn oaths.
After supper, she and Harold strolled over to Wilkinsons' to tell Marjorie the news of the canoe, for Jack had promised to say nothing about it until they came. But they found her singularly unappreciative.
"I knew Frieda sold it before she reached Trenton," she remarked; "and I intended to get papa to take me to find it to-morrow!"
"Of all the ungrateful people!" snapped Ruth, as they left the house. "And we don't know yet where Marj went," she added.
CHAPTER XVIII
ALONE IN THE CITY
At heart, Frieda Hammer was not a bad girl. But for all these years her moral sense had remained undeveloped. She was like a man who has worked in a factory all his life, where the continuous roar of the machinery dulls his sense of hearing, so that all the finer tones are lost upon him. Frieda was so unaccustomed to the qualities of unselfishness and friendliness, that when she came in contact with them she could only mistrust them. Ruth Henry was the only member of the Girl Scout troop that she could seem to understand, for she was the only one who was out and out for herself. Marjorie Wilkinson was a puzzle to her, and always had been.
And just as the man without an ear for music would not appreciate an orchestra if he heard one, so this mentally-starved girl could not understand the charity and sweetness of the Scouts. But gradually, under the influence of her teacher, of Mrs. Johnson, and of her normal life, she began to realize what it all meant. She secretly liked Marjorie, but she was too proud to show it; instead, she decided to study hard, and bring credit to the Scouts.