Kara was lying on the cot inside her own tent. Tory’s friends had suggested that she follow Kara’s example and allow breakfast to be brought to her. Surely she looked weary enough after a night of such anxiety!
Tory had her own reasons for declining. Now as she overheard the beginning of the conversation she was glad of her own decision.
“We are sorry to have intruded upon you even for a short time, Miss Mason,” Donald McClain protested. “We know that you have asked that no member of our Scout camp come within your boundaries this summer. Of course you appreciate that the present circumstances left Lance and me no choice. Last night Lance insisted that he saw the light from a fire on one of the hills which he believed was a signal for help. The rest of us talked him out of the idea. The fire was plain enough, but we were under the impression that some one was spending the night on the hill-top and had kindled the fire either for cooking or companionship. Lance is an obstinate chap and was not altogether convinced. He arose at dawn and discovered the two smoke columns. He wakened no one but me. We set out and were lucky enough to find Tory and Kara without much trouble. We must say good-by to you at once. The other fellows will not know what has become of us, as we can’t reach our own camp for another two hours.”
Impulsively Tory Drew made a little forward movement. She then observed Lance’s eyes fastened upon her with the half-humorous, half-quizzical expression she frequently found annoying. What was there in the present moment to amuse him, save her own intention to come immediately to Donald’s defense? He so rarely made a speech to any stranger so long as this one to the Girl Scout Troop Captain. When the four of them were together, she and Dorothy McClain, Lance and Don, Lance often accused her of talking for Don.
At this instant, however, Sheila Mason extended her hand toward Donald with a friendly gesture.
“We have been anxious for the opportunity to explain to you and Lance that in asking the Boy Scouts not to pay visits to our camp this summer, we did not intend to include you. We have talked of this to your sister, but Dorothy has had no opportunity, she tells me, to speak of it to you. We realize you could not have taken part in the rude behavior of the other boys the night following our making camp here at the border of the forest.”
Sheila Mason, the Troop Captain of the Girl Scouts of the Eagle’s Wing, was only about ten years older than the youngest member of her Troop.
In the early morning sunlight she looked charming in her brown khaki skirt and white blouse. Her long, light hair was braided close about her small head, her fair skin tanned by the outdoor life of the past few weeks, and color brighter than at any time in her life.
It was now midsummer, with days of unusual heat and nights of enchanting coolness.
There was no trace of severity in the Troop Captain’s manner or appearance, but Donald McClain flushed uncomfortably and closed his lips into the obstinate lines Tory so well recognized.