"And Jennie could be our—our——" But Madaline, who attempted to assign
Jennie, was failing miserably in the attempt.
"Don't give Jennie too high an office," interposed Michael with a twinkle in his eye. "I wouldn't exactly care to have her for my boss."
"Come along to the meeting, girls!" called Cleo, "and we will vote on the new members. Michael, if you are black-balled you may blame Madaline, you know," and as a protest against such a contingency, Michael pegged his biggest sponge at Madaline, who ducked just in time to give the wet flap to Grace. The jolly interlude somewhat delayed the business session originally set out for, but it evidently acted as a stimulant to the proceedings when they finally got under way, for a livelier session could scarcely be imagined.
Cleo explained some of the routine of regular meetings to the new member, inscribed on the scout book simply as "Maid Mary," then all further formalities were wavered and business plunged into.
"I am so anxious to tell you at least some of our story, girls," began Mary, "and I know, as Grandie gets stronger, he will be able to remember some of the important missing details. You know, of course, he is not my grandfather, but a gentleman who rescued me," she said.
"Rescued you from what?" asked Madaline, impulsively.
"That's all in the story," replied Mary, "and honestly, girls, I don't know how to begin, but I think I ought to go backwards."
"Yes, do," urged Cleo. "It will be clearer to us if we can connect with the parts we have actually experienced."
"You wonder, of course," Mary began again, "what actually happened that first night I came here. Really someone did call me," Mary insisted with wide eyes. "I can hear the voice yet. I know it was someone who knew me, therefore it must have been Reda."
"We all thought someone was around," Cleo ventured, "and did you know
Shep was shot in the leg that night?"