Jerry had a second mission to perform, however, which she hailed with
anticipation. Cut off by her own obstinacy from former intimacy with her
chums and from the work of the day nursery, she was an extremely lonely
young person with a great deal of idle time on her hands. Energetic
Jerry loathed inaction. She therefore chose Mignon La Salle as her
second subject for activity and lay in wait for her.
Two days passed, following her interview with Lucy Warner, before she
found the desired opportunity to waylay the French girl. Setting off
after school for a lonely session at Sargent's, at the curbstone before
the shop she spied Mignon's runabout. Forging gleefully into her
favorite haunt, she steered straight for Mignon, who sat in solitary
grandeur at a rear table. Catching sight of Jerry, the arch plotter half
rose from her chair as though about to make a prudent exit from the
place.
"Sit down." Before her quarry could leave the table, Jerry had reached
it. "Don't try to dodge _me_. I've been on the watch for you ever since
you made trouble for Marjorie Dean. I'm not a Lookout now so I can tell
you a few things."
"I won't listen to you." Mignon was now on her feet.
"Oh, yes, you will. If you don't, I'll go to your house and say my say
to your father." Jerry looked grimly capable of executing the threat.
Fearful of such a calamity, Mignon reluctantly resumed her seat. "I'm
not afraid of _you_," she sneered. "Say quickly what you have to say. I
am in a hurry to go home."
"I'm not. Still I don't care to be seen talking with you any longer than
I can help." Jerry was brutally rude and she knew it. The time for
keeping up appearances was past. "Now this is what I have to say. You
are the most disloyal, mischief-making person I've ever known. You have
no more right to be a Lookout than that soda-fountain has; my apologies
to the soda-fountain. You can't fool me. You never have. I know you like
a book. It was on account of you that I left the club. I'll never go
back to it until you're out of it."
"You'll wait a long time then." Mignon gave a sarcastic laugh. "I shall
stay in the club as long as I please and you can't prevent me."
"I'll do my best," challenged Jerry. "Remember that's a warning. I'm
going to make it my business to find out what you told Lucy Warner about
Marjorie. When I do you'll hear of it in a way you won't like."
"You'll never find out," taunted Mignon scornfully. "Lucy won't tell you
and I certainly shan't. No one else knows." Taken off her guard she had
rashly admitted the very thing Jerry was endeavoring to make her say.
"I'm going to know," assured Jerry tersely. "I've already made you say
that you did tell Lucy something hateful about Marjorie. Now you can
beat it. I've warned you! Oh, yes. If you circulate any more reports in
school about Lucy's and my resignations, I'll put a notice on the
bulletin board warning the girls to pay no attention to your tales. I'll
see that it stays there, too, long enough to do some good." With this
parting shot Jerry turned abruptly away and walked out of the shop, her
primary desire for ice cream quite forgotten.
As she plodded slowly down the street toward home, Jerry solemnly
considered the stubborn stand she had taken against the Lookouts. She
was not in the least pleased with herself. To continue to hold herself
aloof from Marjorie, in particular, whom she adored, promised to be a
dispiriting task. Still she was determined to do it. She argued that to
go back to the club and admit that she had been in the wrong would
merely make her appear ridiculous. She contemplated her self-exile from
her friends with small joy. Over-weening pride, however, caused her to
gloomily accept it. Her sole consolation lay in the thought that
unbeknown to her chums she would further their mutual interests in every
possible way. The idea of thus becoming an unsuspected source of good to
them, held for her a morbid fascination. While they believed her to be
antagonistic, she would secretly be just the opposite. This beneficent
but somewhat absurd resolution was exactly what one might expect from
Jerry.
Though she could not know it, it was the precise conclusion at which her
chums had already arrived. They knew her better than she knew herself.
When she had deliberately ignored Irma's friendly note, her five chums
had consulted earnestly together regarding what they had best do. Irma
and Constance proposed that the five should visit her in a body, in an
endeavor to win her back. Muriel, Susan and Marjorie opposed such a
measure. "It wouldn't do the least bit of good," Muriel had emphatically
declared.
Marjorie had quietly echoed Muriel's opinion, adding: "Let dear old
Jerry alone, girls. She must work out her own salvation. When she comes
back to us it must be of her own free will. She hasn't really left us,
you know. She'll always be a Lookout, heart and hand."
As December rushed on its snowy way toward the holiday season, it became
somewhat difficult for Marjorie to practice what she had preached.
Jerry's desertion left a huge blank in her life that could not be
filled. The brusque, good-humored stout girl had formerly been her most
ardent supporter in making Christmas merry for the poor of Sanford. The
little folks at the day nursery loudly bewailed her absence from their
midst.
Mrs. Macy and Hal, who had learned the deplorable circumstances from
Jerry's own lips, held more than one energetic but futile argument with
her in an effort to reduce her to reason. She met these earnest
admonitors with an unyielding stolidity that caused them both to retire
from the field in disgust. Whenever she chanced to meet her chums she
greeted them with a cool civility that was infinitely more annoying than
no greeting would have been. She marched defiantly to and from school by
herself, preferring her own company to that of the Sanford High students
outside the intimate circle of girls in which she had once moved.
She made but one exception to them. She was occasionally seen in company
with Veronica Browning. The mystery surrounding the latter fascinated
her. Then, too, she greatly admired this delightful girl. Although
Veronica had learned of Jerry's self-made Coventry, she never referred
to it when with the latter. From Marjorie, who had been quick to note
Jerry's predilection for Veronica, she had received instructions to do
all she could to lighten the young rebel's self-imposed burden. Of her
own free will she had offered her services in Jerry's place at the day
nursery. She had calmly informed the belligerent of her intention before
doing so. Jerry had stared hard at her and merely said: "Go ahead and do
it. You won't hurt my feelings. Are you sure you can spare the time?"
Veronica had answered in the affirmative and the subject had been
immediately dropped.
The week preceding Christmas saw the Lookouts deep in preparations for
the day of days. There was to be a wonderful gift-laden tree at the
nursery for the children, and the usual yearly task of supplying the
Sanford poor folks with holiday cheer was also carried on with a will.
Marjorie's home became a headquarters for the tireless workers and the
Lookouts spent many fruitful and pleasant hours there. Even Mignon
condescended to lend her presence on one or two occasions and surprised
her companions by actually doing a little work. Since her encounter with
Jerry she had been extremely ill at ease. She had a coward's respect for
the plain-spoken stout girl, and she now stood more in fear of her than
ever. The very day after Jerry had accosted her in Sargent's her father
had promised her an expensive electric limousine as a commencement
present, provided she conducted herself in exemplary fashion until then.
Mignon had therefore decided to walk softly until this prize was safely
in her possession.
Christmas came and went, leaving behind for Marjorie the usual liberal
amount of remembrances from her friends. It was a less happy Christmas,
however, than that of the previous year. Jerry's desertion weighed
heavily upon her. The two girls had always exchanged holiday gifts and
calls. This year, determined to make no exception, Marjorie had selected
and sent her usual good-will present to Jerry. Irma, Constance, Susan,
Muriel, Harriet and Esther Lind had done likewise. From Jerry they had
received nothing in return except their own gifts. Each package
contained a card, on each of which had appeared the same Jerry-like
message: "Keep this and send it to me later. Mignon may not always be a
Lookout."
This pertinent message provoked a certain amount of merriment on the
part of the recipients. Nevertheless, an undertone of sadness lurked in
the laughter. Jerry was Jerry and could not be imitated, duplicated nor
replaced. They had missed her sorely at the gay round of parties that
filled their holidays. Her unexpected state of rebellion had also
completely upset her brother Hal's plans for the Macys' usual Christmas
dance. He and Jerry exchanged sharp words over what he termed her
"bull-headedness" and for two weeks afterward they were not on speaking
terms. All in all Jerry passed a most doleful Yuletide season for which
she had only herself to blame.