“More mystery!” Jerry threw up her hands in comical disapproval. “Our senior year seems to be full of it. There’s the mystery of Veronica, for instance, and——”
“She is a rather mysterious person,” broke in Laurie. “Last night while she was waiting to do that shadow dance, I stood beside her so as to be ready to take her broom and that stuffed cat she carried on her shoulder after she made her bow on the screen. When she had finished the dance she slipped away from me before I had a chance to congratulate her on her dancing. I thought of course she’d stay for the party. I was surprised when you told me, Jerry, that she wouldn’t hear to it. She seems like a mighty nice girl. Strange, but I could almost swear that I’d met her before last night.”
“You’ve probably seen her going to or coming from school,” remarked Constance. “She is often with us.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed her with you girls, and I’ve always had that same peculiar impression about her. The moment she first spoke to me last night it deepened.” Laurie knit his brows in a puzzled effort to bring back the circumstances of some possibly former meeting with Veronica.
A gleam of sudden inspiration shot into Jerry’s round eyes. “Perhaps you may have met Veronica before last night, Laurie,” she said eagerly. “Think hard and see if you can’t recall the meeting. It might throw a little light on some of the things that puzzle us.”
“Sorry I can’t oblige you,” he declared ruefully after due reflection, “but I can’t remember ever having met her previous to last night. It must be a case of her resembling somebody else I’ve met.”
“Jerry will never be satisfied until she knows all the whys and wherefores of Veronica,” laughed Marjorie. “Never mind, Jerry. Some day we may find out that our great mystery amounts to very little after all. By that I don’t mean that we are likely to be disappointed in Ronny. It’s quite probable that we don’t understand her now as we may later on. To go back to the Campfire, we had better decide to-night when we are to have it. I think Thanksgiving would be the best time. I imagine the other Lookouts beside ourselves will think so, too.”
The subject of the Campfire again taken up, the six friends entered into an avid planning for it. The three boys were reasonably sure that the project would find favor with the Sanford Guards, to which military organization they all belonged. The three girls were equally certain that it would meet the approval of their club associates. Their interest centered on the delightful scheme, both Marjorie and Constance entirely forgot the disagreeable news which they had previously agreed must be broken to Jerry.
It was well toward eleven o’clock when tardy recollection of it swept over Marjorie. The sextette were in the midst of a delectable collation of hot chocolate, sandwiches and French cakes, of which they had despoiled the indefatigable tea wagon, when the remembrance of Mignon’s latest iniquity popped into her mind. Luckily for her, Jerry was seated in the chair nearest to her. Under cover of one of Danny Seabrooke’s lively sallies, Marjorie leaned toward Jerry and said softly: “I have something to tell you, Jeremiah. I thought I might have a chance to say it to-night, but perhaps I’d better wait until to-morrow.”
“‘Never put off until to-morrow what you can do to-day,’” was the cheerful reminder. “Wait until we have finished the spread. You can help me trundle the tea wagon out of here and into the kitchen. Then we can talk. I’ll make a loud and special clamor for the pleasure of your assistance. Does Connie know what’s on your mind? I don’t want to seem rude to her.”