Betty was wrought up to a fever of energy.
She and Gerry were gardening; but for once the gardens seemed tame. With the idea at the back of her mind of the tracking expedition to take place in less than a week’s time, the Mascot felt anxious to be up and doing instantly. Gerry had come out for half an hour’s gardening, but Betty was firmly of opinion that the said half-hour could be put to a better use.
“Gerry, do you think we could practise steps in that sandy place—like you said last night?”
“Now?” Gerry looked up from a serious investigation of some small Shirley poppy seedlings. “Oh, I don’t know. We could do that later, perhaps. But Nancy was saying to Eve at breakfast that she had seen three slugs in the pink clump. And these poppies are next door to the pinks. Slugs are awful if they start eating up seedlings, and these poppies are so lovely when they’re out.” Gerry returned to her work.
“But—” Betty strove hard to be patient as she explained—“I do so badly want to practise. Not being allowed to read the blue book yet, you see, I’m not sure, till you explain, exactly how to start.”
“All right, then,” returned Gerry. “We’ll put in ten minutes at the end of my gardening time. But not any more, I’m afraid. You see, there’s the Cup. We don’t want to lose it.”
“Lose the Cup!” cried Betty indignantly. “As though I wasn’t just as awfully anxious as anybody.” For Gerry’s speech seemed to her singularly inopportune. Her request had been uttered just because she felt so tremendously keen, so she told herself, not to shame the Daisies by her ignorance. To please Sybil, and not to disgrace her patrol, she must—even if she were only a raw recruit—have a few ideas in her mind as to how to track and spoor before next Saturday came round.
“Well.” Gerry sat down on her heels and looked at her. “I didn’t mean anything horrid. I meant that we might lose it, you see, if——”
“If what?” asked Betty.
“It’s only ours till Midsummer Day,” said Gerry slowly, growing a little pink. “Then we might easily lose it if—” She spoke rather soberly, but on seeing the perturbed expression on her friend’s face she broke off. “Let’s start the spooring practice now, then,” she said; “and then you can go on practising by yourself, and I’ll come back and do gardening afterwards.” She rose to her feet.