"Well, here we are again!" jubilantly announced Danny Seabrooke,
executing a few fantastic steps about the Macys' living room by way of
expressing his approval of the sextette of young people gathered there.
"Yes, here we are," echoed Laurie Armitage with a fervor that indicated
his deep satisfaction. Seated on the davenport beside Constance Stevens,
his blue eyes rested on her with infinite content. This second gathering
at the Macys' was quite to his liking.
"This amiable crowd reminds me of a verse in the third reader that I
used to admire," remarked Jerry humorously. "It went something like
this:
"'Let joy be ours, we're all at home,
To-night let no cold stranger come.
May gentle peace assert her power
And kind affection rule the hour.'"
Jerry recited this gem in a high, affected voice, ending with a giggle.
"Very touching," commented Danny, "and very true. We are, indeed, a
happy, hilarious, harmonious, harmless, hopeful, hospitable band."
"After all," declared Marjorie, "there's nothing quite like the
Invincible Six, is there? I had a gorgeous time at the Hallowe'en party
last night, but these little sessions of ours are so jolly."
"Hurrah! Marjorie's given us a name!" cheered Hal Macy. "Hereafter we'll
call ourselves the Invincible Six. It's a good name, and has a lot of
snap to it. It means we are a combination that can't be downed."
"Of course we can't," agreed Danny Seabrooke glibly. "No combination of
which I am a part can be downed. Hence the term 'invincible.' It's lucky
for all of you that you have me to lean on. Understand, I speak merely
in figurative language. I have no intention of becoming an actual prop
for two big fellows like Hal Macy and Laurie Armitage."
"Don't worry," jeered Hal, "we wouldn't take a chance on you. An
unstable prop--you know the rest."
"I know nothing whatever about it," returned Danny with dignity.
"Furthermore, I don't wish to know."
"'Where ignorance is bliss----'" quoted Hal tantalizingly.
"'Tis folly to waste time spouting proverbs," finished Danny, his wide
grin in evidence.
"Stop squabbling, both of you," commanded Jerry. "One would think to
hear you that the March Hare and the Mad Hatter had both come to life.
What about that wonderful idea of yours, Hal? It's time you quit being
so stingy."
"Keep Dan quiet and I promise to be generous," was the teasing
stipulation.
"Come and sit beside me, Danny," invited Marjorie with a roguish glance
toward the talkative Daniel.
The latter immediately moved his chair with a wild flourish. Planting it
beside Marjorie's he settled himself in it with a triumphant flop.
"There's nothing like proper appreciation," he declared, beaming
owlishly at Hal, who merely smiled tolerantly at this fling.
"Go ahead, Hal," directed Laurie. "Marjorie's beneficent influence on
Dan will keep him quiet for at least five minutes."
"All right." Hitching his chair about until he faced the interested
group, Hal began. "You know, of course, that most of the Weston High
fellows belong to the Sanford Guards. You know, too, that it is just a
high school company and has always furnished its own equipment. Just now
the company needs a lot of stuff that it can't afford to buy. A few of
us could club together and buy it, but that wouldn't suit some of the
boys. We ought to try and raise the money in some more democratic way.
Now you girls have a club and would like to do something to raise money
for it. So I thought between the Guards and the club we could get up
some sort of entertainment together that the Sanfordites would turn out
to and spend their money. That's the first half of the idea. The second
half is the show itself. Why couldn't we give a big Campfire in the
Armory, and make a lot of money?"
"A Campfire? I never heard of one. What sort of show is it, Hal?"
Marjorie leaned forward in her chair, her changeful features alive with
curious interest.
"It's a new one on me!" exclaimed Jerry. "I mean, I never heard of a
Campfire, either," was her hasty amendment.
"A Campfire is a kind of big military show," explained Hal. "I went to
one once in Buffalo. It's like a bazaar, only instead of booths, there
are tents all the way around the Armory except at one end where there's
a little stage. The center of the floor is left free for dancing.
Different things are sold in the tents. Confectionery and ices and
postcards or anything one cares to have. That would be the part you
girls would have to see to. We could have a show and a dance afterward.
If we gave it for three nights running we'd make quite a lot of money.
Half of it would go to the Lookouts and the other half to the Guards."
"You've certainly got a head on your shoulders, Harold. I forgive you
for those disrespectful proverbs." Danny regarded Hal with grinning
magnanimity. "I promise faithfully to be one of the special features at
the Woodfire, Coalfire, Nofire--pardon me; Campfire."
"I'm not sure whether you'll be there," retorted Hal. "It will depend
entirely upon your behavior."
"Oh, I'll be there; never fear" was the airy assurance.
"It's the very nicest kind of idea," approved Marjorie warmly. "I am
sure that we could work together and carry it out successfully. It means
a lot of work, though. When could we have it?" This as an afterthought.
"Thanksgiving would be a pretty good time for us," proposed Jerry. "We
have no school after Wednesday of Thanksgiving week. But there's
football. You boys will be busy with that."
"Not this year." Hal shook his head. "Laurie and I are out of it. We've
had three years of football and so we thought we'd give some of the
other fellows our chance. Having to drill so much lately at the Armory
has kept us both busy. Then, too, Laurie wanted all the extra time he
could get to work on his new opera."
This last information brought a chorus of surprised exclamations from
four young throats. Even Constance was not in possession of this news.
"Now who is stingy?" cried Jerry, looking playful accusation at Laurie.
"Oh, I intended to tell you folks about it tonight," defended the young
composer, flushing. "Hal merely got the start of me. There isn't much to
tell so far. I have a vague inspiration which I'm trying to translate
into music. I don't know yet whether or not it will be worth while."
"What are you going to name your opera?" inquired practical Jerry. "What
is it about?"
"I--that is----" Laurie showed further signs of embarrassment. "I haven't
exactly decided on a name for it. I'd rather not say anything about it
for a while. Later on, I'll be pleased to answer both your questions,
Jerry."
"More mystery!" Jerry threw up her hands in comical disapproval. "Our
senior year seems to be full of it. There's the mystery of Veronica, for
instance, and----"
"She is a rather mysterious person," broke in Laurie. "Last night while
she was waiting to do that shadow dance, I stood beside her so as to be
ready to take her broom and that stuffed cat she carried on her shoulder
after she made her bow on the screen. When she had finished the dance
she slipped away from me before I had a chance to congratulate her on
her dancing. I thought of course she'd stay for the party. I was
surprised when you told me, Jerry, that she wouldn't hear to it. She
seems like a mighty nice girl. Strange, but I could almost swear that
I'd met her before last night."
"You've probably seen her going to or coming from school," remarked
Constance. "She is often with us."
"Oh, I've noticed her with you girls, and I've always had that same
peculiar impression about her. The moment she first spoke to me last
night it deepened." Laurie knit his brows in a puzzled effort to bring
back the circumstances of some possibly former meeting with Veronica.
A gleam of sudden inspiration shot into Jerry's round eyes. "Perhaps you
may have met Veronica before last night, Laurie," she said eagerly.
"Think hard and see if you can't recall the meeting. It might throw a
little light on some of the things that puzzle us."
"Sorry I can't oblige you," he declared ruefully after due reflection,
"but I can't remember ever having met her previous to last night. It
must be a case of her resembling somebody else I've met."
"Jerry will never be satisfied until she knows all the whys and
wherefores of Veronica," laughed Marjorie. "Never mind, Jerry. Some day
we may find out that our great mystery amounts to very little after all.
By that I don't mean that we are likely to be disappointed in Ronny.
It's quite probable that we don't understand her now as we may later on.
To go back to the Campfire, we had better decide to-night when we are to
have it. I think Thanksgiving would be the best time. I imagine the
other Lookouts beside ourselves will think so, too."
The subject of the Campfire again taken up, the six friends entered into
an avid planning for it. The three boys were reasonably sure that the
project would find favor with the Sanford Guards, to which military
organization they all belonged. The three girls were equally certain
that it would meet the approval of their club associates. Their interest
centered on the delightful scheme, both Marjorie and Constance entirely
forgot the disagreeable news which they had previously agreed must be
broken to Jerry.
It was well toward eleven o'clock when tardy recollection of it swept
over Marjorie. The sextette were in the midst of a delectable collation
of hot chocolate, sandwiches and French cakes, of which they had
despoiled the indefatigable tea wagon, when the remembrance of Mignon's
latest iniquity popped into her mind. Luckily for her, Jerry was seated
in the chair nearest to her. Under cover of one of Danny Seabrooke's
lively sallies, Marjorie leaned toward Jerry and said softly: "I have
something to tell you, Jeremiah. I thought I might have a chance to say
it to-night, but perhaps I'd better wait until to-morrow."
"'Never put off until to-morrow what you can do to-day,'" was the
cheerful reminder. "Wait until we have finished the spread. You can help
me trundle the tea wagon out of here and into the kitchen. Then we can
talk. I'll make a loud and special clamor for the pleasure of your
assistance. Does Connie know what's on your mind? I don't want to seem
rude to her."
"Yes, she will understand," nodded Marjorie. "She'd rather I'd tell you.
She can entertain the boys until we come back."
Not long after this guarded conversation took place Jerry made good her
promise. "Lend me a hand with this tea wagon, Marjorie," she innocently
requested. "You boys needn't trouble yourselves. Sit still and look
pleasant and Connie will do the honors while Marjorie and I do the work.
Besides, two's company," she added, with good-humored significance.
"Don't mention it," affably retorted Danny Seabrooke. "You have my
permission to take charge of the tea wagon. Once it looked good to me.
Now that it holds nothing but empty dishes, take it away quickly."
Hal and Laurie obediently kept their seats. They were accustomed to
Jerry's blunt orders and knew that their services were not desired.
Constance flashed Marjorie a quick, inquiring glance, which the latter
answered with an almost imperceptible nod.
"See how they mind me," observed Jerry, chuckling, as the two girls left
the room, trundling the tea wagon between them. Entering the kitchen she
gave it a final impatient shove away from her. "You're out of it," she
commented as it rumbled along the smooth floor with a protesting jingle
of dishes. "You have the floor, Marjorie. What's the latest? As you
don't look very joyful, I wonder if our dear Mignon has been busy again.
Something seems to tell me that I am not a thousand miles off in my
guess. After last night, nothing she has said or done can surprise me
much. She certainly got nicely fooled, didn't she? What I'd like to know
is, When did she telephone her house?"
"That is precisely what I am going to tell you," stated Marjorie in
deliberate tones; "But, first, I want you to promise me, Jerry, that you
will try not to be too much upset by what I'm going to say."
"That's a pretty hard promise to make." Jerry eyed her friend
speculatively. "I'll be as calm as I can, but no calmer."
Not greatly assured by Jerry's half promise, Marjorie plunged bravely
into the task that confronted her. Before she had ended, Jerry's
good-natured countenance showed signs of storm.
"Of all the mischief-makers," she sputtered, "Mignon leads the van!
She's gone just a little too far this time; The idea of her slipping
around behind our backs to listen to what didn't concern her. I won't
have her in the club. As president I have some say about it. I shall
call a special meeting of the Lookouts, tell them what she's done, and
recommend that she be dropped from the club. We can't trust her. She's
broken the Golden Rule a dozen times at least since she became a member
of the Lookouts. Either she must leave the club or else I shall leave
it," she threatened.
"I was afraid you'd say that. Understand, I agree with you that she
deserves to be asked to resign. But we mustn't ask her to, and you must
not resign, either, Jerry. If you did, it might break up the club. We've
too much at stake now to begin quarreling. We wouldn't be helping Mignon
by asking her to resign. We'd only be responsible for making her more
dishonorable than ever. Veronica won't mind her gossip."
"Maybe she won't," snapped Jerry, "but it's not fair to the Lookouts to
allow Mignon to do and say things that will cause them to be criticized.
We've got to take some pretty severe action about it or be set down as
in her class."
"That's what I am coming to," continued Marjorie. "The time has come
when Mignon must be made to understand that she will have to live up to
the Golden Rule. As president of the club, you ought to be the one to
tell her, but I am afraid----"
"I'll tell her," emphasized Jerry grimly, "and in a way that she won't
relish. Maybe then she'll be glad to resign of her own accord. If she
won't, then I shall."
"That's just the point," broke in Marjorie mournfully. "She won't resign
of her own accord. If you undertake to tell her she will be horrid to
you. Then you'll lose your temper and--we won't have any president."
"I guess that's so." Jerry frowned fiercely. Marjorie's wistful ending
had its effect on her, however. "Still, who's going to tell her if I
don't? You can imagine what will happen if Muriel undertakes it. It will
be like touching a match to gun powder. Susan has no time for her.
Irma's altogether too gentle. Harriet's no match for Mignon.
Connie--well, Connie might be able to put it over. I doubt it, though.
Mignon is so jealous of her on account of her singing and Laurie. She
wouldn't listen to Connie. Afterward she'd be sure to start a story that
Connie tried to put her out of the club because of Laurie's attention to
her at the Hallowe'en party. There's only----"
"Marjorie Dean left to tell her," supplemented Marjorie quietly.
"You've said it," nodded Jerry. "You are the only one of us who is
likely to make an impression upon her. She doesn't like you, but she's
afraid of you. She knows, even though she won't admit it, that you are
miles her superior. I'd rather be the one to go to her, but you seem to
think it wouldn't be wise. I guess you know what you're talking about.
One of us is it. If you feel you'd like to do the censuring act, then go
ahead and do it."
"I don't feel that I'd _like_ to do any such thing." Marjorie's answer
conveyed strong disinclination. "It's this way, though. You and Connie
and I know more about Mignon than the others know. That's why it would
be best for one of us to have a talk with her. If all three of us went
to her together, it would be more humiliating for her than if only one
of us went. I'd rather it wouldn't be Connie. Mignon would gossip about
her afterward." Marjorie paused. She disliked to remind Jerry of her
short temper.
"I'll tell you what we'll do." Jerry rose gallantly to the distasteful
interview in prospect. "You and I will form a committee of two and face
Mignon together. You can do the talking and I'll simply go along to see
that she doesn't gobble you up. I promise faithfully to be as dumb as a
clam. But only for this one time. Just to please you, Marjorie, I'll
agree to let her escape what she deserves with a warning. But never
again. If, after you've laid down the law to her, she starts any more
gossip, then there will be one face missing among the Lookouts. If it
isn't hers, it will certainly be mine."