THE GIRL SCOUTS’ CAPTAIN
Contents
Chapter Page
I. CANDIDATES. 3
II. A PROPOSITION. 14
III. THE JAZZ PARTY. 24
IV. THE INVITATION. 34
V. THE FIRST MEETING. 45
VI. THE HIKE. 55
VII. DISCOURAGEMENT. 65
VIII. THE PROMISE. 76
IX. THE NEW PLAN. 85
X. MARJORIE’S ESCORT. 92
XI. TENDERFOOT SCOUTS. 98
XII. ETHEL’S ADVICE. 103
XIII. THE FIRST PRACTICE. 113
XIV. GOSSIP. 124
XV. THE SUPPER PARTY. 133
XVI. THE FIRST GAME. 143
XVII. LILY’S ENGAGEMENT. 155
XVIII. DOLLS. 167
XIX. THE EXHIBITION. 178
XX. THE CHAMPIONSHIP. 186
XXI. THE PURSUIT. 199
XXII. QUEENIE’S CALLER. 209
XXIII. THE CRISIS. 217
XXIV. QUEENIE’S DAY OFF. 226
XXV. CONCLUSION. 234
[Illustration: Stella stepped forward and presented her with a huge
bunch of American Beauty Roses.
(_Page 239_) (_The Girl Scouts’ Captain._)]
THE GIRL SCOUTS’
CAPTAIN
By EDITH LAVELL
AUTHOR OF
“The Girl Scouts at Miss Allen’s School,” “The Girl
Scouts at Camp,” “The Girl Scouts’ Good Turn,”
“The Girl Scouts’ Canoe Trip,” “The Girl Scouts’
Rivals,” “The Girl Scouts on the Ranch,”
“The Girl Scouts’ Vacation Adventures,”
“The Girl Scouts’ Motor Trip.”
[Illustration]
A. L. BURT COMPANY
Publishers New York
Printed in U. S. A.
The Girl Scouts Series
A SERIES OF STORIES FOR GIRL SCOUTS
BY EDITH LAVELL
THE GIRL SCOUTS AT MISS ALLEN’S SCHOOL
THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP
THE GIRL SCOUTS’ GOOD TURN
THE GIRL SCOUTS’ CANOE TRIP
THE GIRL SCOUTS’ RIVALS
THE GIRL SCOUTS ON THE RANCH
THE GIRL SCOUTS’ VACATION ADVENTURES
THE GIRL SCOUTS’ MOTOR TRIP
THE GIRL SCOUTS’ CAPTAIN
Copyright, 1925 By A. L. BURT COMPANY
THE GIRL SCOUTS’ CAPTAIN
Made in “U. S. A.”
THE GIRL SCOUTS’ CAPTAIN
CHAPTER I.
CANDIDATES.
Five spick-and-span roadsters, of the same model, of the same year,
were parked in a line to the side of the main entrance to Turner
College, awaiting their owners’ wishes. It was almost dark, and their
lights had not been turned on, but the illumination from the college
windows made them clearly visible. The days were growing so short that
soon the girls would be obliged to put the cars away before supper.
Out of the wide open doorway five figures suddenly appeared, and with
arms linked together slowly descended the steps. They wore light summer
dresses and gay sweaters; their heads were still bobbed; only one of
them displayed a “shingle.” It was the one time of the day that these
girls still saved for each other, “in memory,” as Alice Endicott put
it, “of the senior patrol of Pansy Troop of Girl Scouts.”
“Without any prejudice,” remarked Florence Evans, a junior at the
college, “wouldn’t you pick out my car for the one in the best
condition?”
“Not at all!” returned Lily Andrews, the senior who rejoiced in the
“shingle bob”; “mine’s had the best care of any of them—and it looks
it!”
“Don’t forget I spent all last Saturday with mine!” put in Florence
proudly.
“Then you must have been running it pretty hard, if it needed so much
attention!” returned Lily.
“Really, I think they’re all splendid!” cried Daisy Gravers, as she
fumbled for her key, and inserted it in the lock. “And there’s never a
day goes past, Alice, that I don’t feel grateful to your Aunt Emeline
for such marvellous presents.”
“Well, we earned ’em!” remarked Florence, who was never inclined to be
sentimental.
“Do you ever hear from Aunt Emeline?” inquired Daisy. “Or,” she added
laughingly, “the nephews?”
“Yes, Aunt Emeline’s disappointed that we’re not doing something to
continue our troop. She says she never saw such a plucky set of girls.”
“Well, we certainly had fun!” observed Marjorie Wilkinson
reminiscently. “I consider my Girl Scout experience the best part of my
life!”
“You mean, _so far_,” her roommate corrected her. “The poet says, ‘The
best is yet to be * * *’, and I believe it. Well, girls, everybody
ready to hit the trail?”
They fell into line in the road, passed through the college gate, and
descended the hill to the garage. It was not until after they had left
their cars that conversation was resumed.
“You all going to the dance in the gym tonight?” asked Daisy.
“I am,” replied Florence, without any hesitation; “and so is Alice. How
about you two reverend seniors?”
Marjorie shook her head.
“No, I’m too tired; I’m going to stay home. And I’m hoping that maybe
Lil is going to keep me company.”
Lily, however, looked doubtful.
“I really don’t approve, Marj; I think you ought to be mingling with
the girls as much as possible now—they expect it and they want to see
you. Don’t forget that you’re a candidate for senior presidency.”
“Bosh!” exclaimed Marjorie, lightly. “You know I won’t play politics,
Lil!”
“That isn’t playing politics, my dear. But naturally the girls want
a leader who is sociable. And really, you’re just the one for the
office.”
“It’s awfully nice of you to say that, Lil, but I guess you’re
prejudiced. And I honestly don’t care a lot about having it, so I’m not
going to work for it.” Her tone grew pleading, “Lil, be nice and stay
home with me!”
“She will, Marj, don’t worry!” remarked Alice. “She always does what
you want.”
“Yes, and Marj does what I want, too,” added Lily, squeezing her arm
affectionately. “So I’m not going to urge her if she’s tired.” Then,
with a sly glance at the others, “She’ll be elected, anyhow!”
When they were alone, they dropped comfortably into their favorite
seats, smiling across at each other in content. Both had been hiking
all afternoon, through the lovely autumn woods, and both appreciated
the chance to rest. There were so few such chances in a busy senior’s
life!
“Lil,” began Marjorie, dreamily, as she let her gaze wander about the
familiar sitting room which had been so dear to them both for three
years, “Lil, I would like to do something this year.”
“Do something!” repeated the other, in amazement, “why you have so much
to do now that you don’t know which way to turn! And then if you are
elected, as you probably will be——”
“No, no!” interrupted Marjorie. “I don’t mean that, Lil. Of course it’s
all very well to be class president, but after all I’m not the only
girl for that job. Anybody else could do that as well. What I mean is
to do something that is really worth while—something that nobody else
has time to do!”
“But why, Marjorie? You mustn’t try to do too much!”
Marjorie paused in search of words, to express the sense of
responsibility that had taken possession of her. “It must be because
I’m twenty-one years old,” she said, slowly, “for somehow I feel
different—as if my time for frivolity were over—as if I really ought
to do something to justify my existence now.”
“But you always have, Marj!”
“Yes, in a way, but more of a child’s way. Something different now—and
bigger!”
“For instance?”
Marjorie’s eyes lighted up with a brilliant smile; she was back to her
favorite subject.
“The Girl Scouts!” she announced, joyfully, for the mere mention of the
subject reminded her of so many past pleasures. “Something for the Girl
Scouts—to make other girls as happy as I’ve always been!”
“Marj, you’re wonderful!” cried her roommate, with genuine regard in
her tone, regard which had never ceased to increase with the friendship
of so many years. “But please don’t try to do anything till you see
whether you’re elected president,” she cautioned. “That’s an honor you
could remember all your life!”
The other girl was silent, thoughtful for a few moments as if she were
weighing both possibilities.
“I don’t believe an honor means so much to me as a responsibility,” she
answered slowly. “Honors are things it is better for one to forget.
Don’t you honestly think so, Lil?”
Again Lily looked at her chum in admiration; she was invariably
impervious to flattery.
“But what do you mean to do, Marj?” she inquired. “Go on with our
little troop in the village?”
Marjorie shook her head again.
“No, that isn’t enough. One of the juniors—Daisy, or Florence, or
Alice—can take charge of that without any trouble. I want to give
something more of myself to the Girl Scouts.”
“But how? Do you mean re-organize our old patrol, as Aunt Emeline
suggested? It would be awfully hard to get the girls together, with
Ethel teaching, and Doris and Mae both married——”
“No, no, Lil, not that! I agree with you that it would be out of
the question, no matter how much fun it would be. Everybody’s too
busy—we’ll have to wait till we’re all grandmothers, and then we can
have regular reunions. But what I am thinking of is a troop with an
entirely new set of girls—girls that have nothing in their lives.
Perhaps I might find such a group in the city.”
“You’d wear yourself out going back and forth.”
“Don’t forget I have my little car! Now, Lil, don’t jump on me, but I
have another idea: I want you to help me!”
But Lily did not continue to object as Marjorie had expected. Instead,
she began to show interest in the plan and they fell to discussing its
possibilities until a knock at the door interrupted them. The visitor
was Jeannette Killough, a rival candidate for the class presidency.
“Do sit down, Jennie,” invited Marjorie, cordially for she was always
glad to see the other girl, of whom she was a sincere admirer. “It’s so
nice to see you.”
“Thank you,” replied Jeannette, accepting the invitation. Then, “I am
lucky to find you both at home, though you really ought not to be,
Marj!”
Marjorie shrugged her shoulders.
“Why, Jeannette?”
“Because you ought to be over at the dance, courting popularity. The
election comes off tomorrow night!”
Marjorie dismissed the remark with a smile.
“I’m trying to get all my friends to vote for you, Jennie,” she
informed her.
“Don’t do that, Marj!” cried the other girl, in concern. “In
fact—I’ve decided to withdraw my name from the list.”
“What?” gasped Lily, in amazement. Such a stupendous honor as senior
presidency was hardly to be turned down lightly.
“Yes, because I want Marj to get it, and I don’t want our vote to be
divided. We have about the same friends, while Delia has an entirely
different following. And you know that I don’t think Delia would make a
good president.”
Marjorie considered the matter thoughtfully from this angle; it was
certainly a fact that Delia Humphreys, conceited, over-bearing, almost
bold in her manner, would not lead the class to its highest advantage.
Yet she had certain supporters—perhaps enough to elect her if the vote
were divided.
“I agree with you, Jeannette,” she decided, finally; “but your solution
doesn’t meet with my approval. Let me withdraw, for I honestly want to.
I mean to devote myself to the Girl Scouts this year.”
“What Girl Scouts?”
“I don’t know,” replied Marjorie, blushingly.
“That’s only an excuse!” cried Jeannette, jumping up impulsively. “I
thought of it first—and I’m going to be the one to do it!”
“No, no! I am!”
“If you do, I will too!” announced Jeanette, defiantly.
“And then if you do, I will too!” repeated Marjorie, with a challenge.
“Stop fighting, children!” put in Lily, laughingly. “Don’t both
withdraw—you’d only ruin your own object.”
“Then what shall we do?” asked Marjorie, humbly.
“It was my idea——,” began Jeannette.
“Wait!” interposed Lily. “Don’t begin all over again. I’ll settle
it—by simply tossing a penny!”
Both girls agreed to Lily’s terms, and promised to abide by the result.
“If it’s heads,” she said, “Marj withdraws; tails—Jeannette.”
“Play fair!” cautioned the latter suspiciously.
“As if I didn’t always!” returned Lily. “A Girl Scout’s honor——”
She selected a penny from her purse, and heightened the suspense by
looking it over carefully, noting its date. Then she tossed it high
up in the air; so high that it hit the ceiling and bounded off to the
side. An instant later it fell like a shot to the window-sill.
“Oh, catch it, quick!” cried Marjorie, rushing across the room towards
the open window. “Suppose it goes out——”
But she was too late. Already the penny had rolled over the edge, down
into the soft grass beneath.
The girls regarded each other in consternation.
“Shall we toss another?” asked Jeannette.
“Or go hunt for that one?” suggested Marjorie.
“In the dark?” demanded Lily, scornfully. “We’d hardly find it—and
tomorrow would be too late for either of you to resign. And as for
tossing another, that wouldn’t be playing fair, and I won’t do it! This
is as good as any other sign that neither one of you is to withdraw!”
“Besides,” remarked Marjorie, thoughtfully, “they’d probably only put
another candidate in our place. Doesn’t the constitution say there must
be three?”
“I never thought of that,” admitted Jeannette.
“Well, I guess Lil’s right; we better be good sports and both run,
Jennie.”
“All right, I will. But I hope you’re elected. And if I thought that I
had spoiled your chances——”
“You won’t spoil each other’s chances!” declared Lily. “One of you is
bound to be elected. Delia isn’t popular, and she hasn’t any executive
ability. Everybody knows it, even her own little crowd. And either one
of you will be good. And, as you said before, you didn’t want to use
any politics——”
“Of course you’re right, Lil—you always are,” Marjorie conceded
loyally. “And I’m game, unless a real opportunity for scout work comes
up and makes the office out of the question for me. I’m a Girl Scout
first, and a college senior second.”
“But is that loyal?” asked Jeannette.
“Yes!” cried Lily. “Girl Scouts came first to Marjorie; it’s only right
that they should remain first.”
“And I had to fight to get in—and keep on,” murmured the girl
reminiscently.
Jeannette rose to go; there was nothing left to be said. She opened the
door and saw the girls returning to their rooms from the gym dance. In
the thickest of the crowd, vivacious, talkative, elated, walked the
rival candidate, Delia Humpheys!