Yet, unconsciously perhaps, there were already three little groups amid the new Camp Fire club. Bettina and Peggy had been friends ever since they were little girls and, while they might be unlike and might now and then disapprove the one of the other, yet always they were loyal and devoted. Vera was in a way an odd side to the triangle.
For several years Peggy had known her; indeed, they had met soon after Vera’s father had come to the Webster farm. But there had been no intimacy between the two girls. It was Billy’s odd friendship with the Russian girl that had led his mother to take an interest in her and ask her to join the Camp Fire club, of which she was guardian.
And it was Billy who had commended Vera to his sister’s interest just before the girls left on the western trip together.
“Be good to Vera, please, Peggy. She is queer like I am, and perhaps we don’t think about things as other people do. But she is the bravest person in the world and the truest, once she cares for you. She does not talk much, but try to understand her.”
And Peggy was trying, partly for Billy’s sake and partly for Vera’s own. She had a strange feeling about her younger brother—a feeling his entire family shared. None of them could decide whether he was going to be a genius or whether he was just “queer,” with the genius left out. And this subtle difference is perhaps the most important fact in this world. So Billy’s family worried over him and were frequently angry with him, and yet never forgot him.
Then Vera was interesting in herself. She was not so shy as her companions believed; in reality, her shyness was more reserve while she was quietly studying their temperaments. It may be that she had some plan in mind which might some day make this knowledge valuable. In the meantime she quietly attached herself to the company of Peggy and Bettina. Now and then the two girls were a little bored by it, preferring to be alone, and yet they did not wish to appear unkind.
This morning Peggy would like to have discussed several questions with Bettina, but not before Vera, since they were intimate personal subjects, not camp fire matters. In fact, they concerned Gerry Williams and her aunt, for Peggy had noticed something which she believed no one else had.
But the three girls would not dismount to rest or eat lunch until they came to the neighborhood of the river. They were not far, now, from the Painted Desert. Beyond were the buttes where the Hopi Indians had built their villages so that far above the plain they might be safe from the wild Apaches.
The girls found a shelter of rocks near the river. Below was a steep descent to the water.
Vera was serving the luncheon; Peggy was lying flat down on the warm rocks with her arms outstretched; while Bettina sat with her chin in her hand, watching the far horizon.