It had been an evening full of excitement and unexpected happenings. And now Harriet Burrell would not have another opportunity to win her "honor" in this line until three months had passed.
Harriet's face was stony as she fled to her tent. Jane McCarthy reached the tent a few minutes behind her friend. Jane threw her arms about Harriet, expressing her opinion of the whole affair in her own hot-headed way. Harriet's eyes were dry but her cheeks were hot. She was holding herself well in hand, yet when she spoke there was a slight quaver in her voice. She was not a girl given to tears.
"I don't care for the 'honor' so much," Harriet said, "but I just can't stand it to have the girls believing deep down in their hearts that I could have done that awful thing. They will say it; at least some of them will."
"I dare them to!" flamed Jane. "Just let me hear them. Oh, just let me hear one girl saying a word about Harriet Burrell. Oh!"
"I don't want you to mix in this trouble at all, Jane," objected Harriet. "It is bad enough as it is. If I could find out who the guilty one is——"
"What would you do if you did find out?" demanded Jane.
"I don't know. Nothing I suppose," returned Harriet with a wan smile.
"That's just it. You've got to fight if you don't want to get walked on in this world. My dad says so. He's a fighter, he is, little one, and he has a daughter who can take her own part and half a dozen other people's besides. My sleeves will be rolled up all the time after this. You watch me get into action when I discover the girl, and——"
"I think you had better leave all that to me, Miss McCarthy," advised a voice at the door of the tent.
At the first sound of the voice Harriet thought either Patricia or Cora had come in. Then she saw that it was Mrs. Livingston.