The Camp Fire Girls at Sunrise Hill

by Margaret Vandercook

But Polly, jumping up hastily and the young man following her, led him over and introduced him to Mollie, with whom he spent the greater part of the afternoon.

From two o'clock till sundown the hours at Sunrise, Camp were fairly strenuous ones since the Camp Fire girls insisted on comparative tests of skill with their Boy Scout guests. Of course the young men agreed, although they were pleasantly scornful, until possibly owing to their morning's contest the girls actually won out in the knot-tying contest, which was supposed to be a peculiarly masculine accomplishment. In running, jumping and feats of marksmanship the girls of course were easily outclassed by their opponents; however, Beatrice Field, who was so light and so small that no one considered her in the race, did come in second in a short thirty-yard dash. Then Miss McMurtry held a kind of impromptu examination in questions of patriotism and nature lore, the girls and men managing to about equally divide the honors. But the really extraordinary feature of the afternoon was that dull little Sylvia Wharton, the youngest member of the company, was easily first in half a dozen observation games most important in the training of Camp Fire girls and Boy Scouts. For instance, in a Quick-sight experiment, the girls and boys walking rapidly from the camping ground to the shores of the lake, Sylvia had seen eight small objects more than any one else and she was so quiet and looked so stolid while doing it that Polly wanted to laugh, and began to doubt her stupidity.

At six o'clock it still appeared as though the Boy Scouts intended remaining for the evening meal and camp fire; however, Miss McMurtry kindly but firmly bade them farewell. The girls were tired and it was a long tramp back to the Scout camp. There had been no suggestion from any one that the surprise visit had been made in any spirit of criticism and yet John Everett made a half-hearted apology to Betty and his sister.

When the farewells were being said all round, he called the two girls aside:

"I say," he murmured boyishly, in spite of his years and six feet, "I have got to confess that I never saw you girls looking so well, so kind of up to the limit before, and I thought by this time you would surely be fagged out, or bored, or sick of trying things out together. Now I don't say I approve of this Camp Fire business, I won't go so far as that, but it does not seem to have done either of you any harm yet."

And then laughing at his grudging attitude the three of them rejoined their friends, who were waiting to end their day together by singing "My Country, 'Tis of Thee." And they were waiting because Esther Clark was needed for leading the song and in the last few moments she had disappeared with Richard Ashton, who had been watching the proceedings all day with an expression that was sometimes amused but the greater part of the time grave. He had no opportunity for speaking to Betty or to any one else alone and only to Esther because he had just made a deliberate effort. As they came slowly back from the pine grove together, Betty felt cross at Dick's choice of a companion when any one of her other friends would have been pleased by his attention.

Then, too, Esther looked as serious as her brother and Betty hated unnecessary seriousness, besides Dick needed some one to make him gay, not an awkward, uninteresting acquaintance like Esther. But there was no use in arguing with Dick, for he would always be kind to the people who were left out of things and seemed most to require kindness. Sorry to have seen so little of her brother during his short visit, Betty now slipped her hand into his and held it tight while Esther, standing some distance apart from them, started the air for their parting hymn. The girl was not thinking of herself and so was unconscious that the others, even while singing, were also listening with surprise and pleasure to the clear, rounded tones of her beautiful mezzo-soprano voice. In reality Esther Clark was thinking only of Betty and the news that Dick Ashton had just told her. Mr. Ashton, his father, had been taken ill in Italy and, though there was no immediate danger, might never be well again. For the present it was thought best that he remain indefinitely in Europe, so the family had not decided whether or not to tell the facts to Betty. She could do no good; even Dick was not going to him, and it was always best to keep every possible sorrow from Betty. But really, because Dick Ashton could not make up his mind just what was the wisest course, he confided his secret to Esther, asking her to think matters over and write him her judgment. You see there was no question of Esther's unusual devotion to Betty and readiness to sacrifice everything for her, though there seemed to be no reason, and surely Betty was entirely careless of it.

Before the twilight of the long afternoon had entirely faded into night, every Camp Fire girl, including Nan Graham, who was not a member, had vanished into bed. The child was too tired to be sent home to-night and word would be taken to her parents by one of the boys. Miss McMurtry herself was asleep as soon as her girls. And indeed Polly entirely forgot that Betty had suggested she put the question of Nan's remaining in camp with them to her again during the evening.

How many hours Polly had been asleep outside her tent with the newcomer by her side she did not know, but suddenly she was awakened by a sound that was like a sob. Sitting up quickly she saw Nan kneeling on the ground and looking up at the sky.

Polly waited in silence until the girl, feeling her wakefulness, came slowly back to her own bed and somehow Polly could see that her face had lost its sharp, old look and was like a child's.