“But you didn’t do it,” maintained Katherine, “you came to your senses in time. We all have done some pretty foolish things, I guess, if they weren’t quite so startling as the one you planned. But anyway, they’ll never know a thing about it, so they can’t have the laugh on you.”
“You mean you’ll never tell anyone?” cried Veronica unbelievingly.
“Not a soul,” said Katherine earnestly. “Not any of the Winnebagos, nor your uncle, nor your aunt, nor even Nyoda. Never a word, on my honor as a—a peasant! If I had intended telling anyone I’d have taken your wallet to your uncle right away, with the note in it, instead of keeping you back in the way I did. But I knew you’d come to yourself presently, and there was no use making a fuss. I’ll keep your secret, never fear. I won’t even have to explain my absence from the class banquet. They all know how absent-minded I am, and they will simply think I forgot. That’s the advantage of having a reputation!” And Veronica, looking into Katherine’s homely, honest face, knew that her word would stand against flood and earthquake.
“Do you really think the Winnebagos will take me back?” she asked timidly.
For answer Katherine picked up Veronica’s suitcase, linked her arm through hers, and started homeward at a lively pace. “You are back,” she said simply. “You never were really ‘put out,’ you know. You left of your own accord and we have missed you very much and were just waiting for you to say the word. Oh, I’m so glad!” And her feet began to shuffle back and forth in a lively manner, and she began to hum in sprightly tones the tune, “When Johnny Comes Marching Home.” Thus it was that the Torch, carried by Katherine, drew Veronica to the Fire after all, although Katherine did not even know that she held the Torch in her hand.
The last meeting of the Winnebagos with Nyoda came, oh, much too soon! The boys were warned to stay away, for not even these dear friends were to be allowed to disturb the sacredness of that gathering. They cooked supper for the last time, trying to be riotously cheerful, with the tears dripping off the ends of their noses into the dishes. All the favorite Winnebago messes were cooked, because Nyoda couldn’t decide which one she wanted most. There was Shrimp Wiggle and Slumgullion and scones and ice cream with Wohelo Special Sauce, which was a heavenly mixture of maple syrup, chocolate and chopped nuts.
The feast was soon spread, and they gathered around the table to sing the Camp Fire blessing,
“If we have earned the right to eat this bread,”
and most of the voices quavered before they came to the end.
That supper remained in their memories many years afterward. Katherine had to deliver all her familiar speeches over and over again; Migwan, who had come home from college in time to attend the farewell meeting, gave a fine history of the group from its beginning; Gladys danced her best dances; and all the favorite stunts were gone through and the favorite songs sung. And Nyoda looked upon and listened to it all with a smiling face and tear-dimmed eyes. The Winnebagos had formed a large part of her life for the past three years. Veronica, who was at the supper, and had been welcomed back into the group with open arms upon her humble apology, wept disconsolately most of the time. To have been restored to the good graces of this wonderful young woman, only to lose her again immediately afterward! She bitterly regretted her withdrawing from the group during the winter and thus losing her last opportunity of comradeship with Nyoda.