Frieda read the letter over and over, gradually developing a plan. She would go back to Trenton, get work if possible, and save to buy back the canoe. Then, when it was paid for, and she had enough money, she would paddle back to Miss Allen's, return the fifteen dollars and beg the forgiveness of Marjorie and the rest of the Scouts. The thought of beginning all over again inspired her with happiness—the first real happiness she had felt since her arrival in New York!
She next discovered a way to go to Trenton by trolley; and accordingly, the next morning she paid her bill and started off. For the time being, she seemed to have forgotten Ruth Henry; all that she thought of was how Marjorie Wilkinson would receive her when she finally saw her.
She reached Trenton in the afternoon, and hunted a room. Fortunately, she still had enough money to pay in advance. Leaving her belongings, she set out in the direction of the boat-houses, to ascertain whether the canoe was still there. But on her way she passed a large mill, before the entrance of which hung a sign, "Girls Wanted;" and without a moment's hesitation she went in, and secured trial employment.
With a light heart, she crossed the bridge to the other side of the river. Walking down a short distance, she espied several old men along the shore.
"There he is!" she thought, as she caught sight of the white beard that had attracted her before. She looked around expectantly for the canoe, but did not see it among the boats.
"Good afternoon!" she said pleasantly, adopting the manner she had been taught to use in the restaurant. "Several months ago I sold you my canoe. I wonder if I could buy it back at the same price?"
The man eyed her narrowly, while his mouth curled into a snarl.
"Your canoe, eh? Your canoe! I happen to know you stole that canoe—it never was yours!"
The girl recoiled as if he had struck her. How could he know? Were policemen on her trail? She shuddered with apprehension. Then, drawing herself up with dignity, she inquired haughtily,