"Dear Marjorie,
"I was very glad to receive your letter so soon, hardly hoping anyone would want to correspond right now. I guess when you hear that I am a mill girl you will not want to correspond. I have worked in Trenton going on four months now and I like it very much. I go to night school and there I met my girl friend and we started the Scouts here. I am only a tenderfoot now, hoping to be a second-class Scout before summer. Our troop never went camping yet. We are too poor.
"Hoping that you will still want to write to me even though I do work, I am yours truly,
"Jennie Perkins."
"But she doesn't say whether she ever lived in New York, or where she comes from!" cried Marjorie, in despair. "I'm just as much in the dark as ever!
"I'll just have to get it out of her, bit by bit. And maybe, even if she isn't Frieda Hammer, Pansy troop could help her a whole lot."
So Marjorie decided to write to her again immediately, telling her more about the troop, their hikes, and their good times. She posted the letter Saturday morning. She knew, of course, that she and Ruth were taking the Sunday train to Miss Allen's.
As they entered the main hall, Ruth remarked that they might as well stop in the post-office.
"We probably won't get anything," she said; "but somebody might have written here."