THE VERDICT
“And what makes you think you made a mistake in Marjorie Wilkinson’s
paper?” asked Miss Allen, after Miss White had requested for permission
to give the girl a second test. “You aren’t in the habit of doing your
work carelessly.”
“Well--mother was ill, you know; and Marjorie’s subsequent work has
been so good, that I felt there must be some explanation.”
Miss Allen shut her lips tightly. “I am sorry to refuse to grant your
request, Miss White,” she said, “but if I allowed a second test for no
more reason than you suggest, it would establish a precedent: every
girl who fails in any examination will demand another opportunity. The
final examinations are less than two weeks off; Marjorie will have the
chance to show her ability in them.”
“I see your point of view, Miss Allen,” said Miss White. “I had hoped
you would grant my request without further explanation; but, as you
say, it would not be right, for such an insignificant reason. So I
will tell you the whole story.”
She repeated to the Principal the facts of Ruth’s confession; she told
how cleverly the girl had spoiled the paper; she recalled the fact that
the papers had been marked at home, destroyed, and the averages mailed
to the school. Everything, indeed, had seemed to play into Ruth’s hands
in order to help her to escape detection.
Miss Allen listened with increasing anger as the narrative progressed.
The whole thing was inconceivable--a disgrace to her school. “Ruth
Henry must be expelled at once!” she declared emphatically.
“No, no,” pleaded Miss White. “Remember that she confessed it herself;
if someone had told on her, it would be different. Suppose we send
for her--and for Miss Phillips, too, since it is a matter which so
intimately concerns the scouts.”
Ruth and her Captain entered the office together. In a few words,
Miss Allen reviewed the situation to Miss Phillips, while Ruth sat
motionless, with downcast eyes.
“I am of the opinion,” said Miss Allen coldly, “that a girl who would
do such a contemptible trick as that should be expelled from the
school.”
Ruth started; that was one calamity she had not thought of. Then her
mother and father would know--yes, and all the people at home.
But Miss White and Miss Phillips both pleaded in her behalf. She had
done wrong, they said; but it was her first offense, and she had
confessed. Such a punishment would be too severe.
“Then at least she must be put out of the troop! She has not acted like
a Girl Scout; she should not be permitted to wear the uniform.”
Ruth rose, white to the lips. “I am ready to resign, Captain Phillips,”
she said unsteadily. “I did not expect to be allowed to remain.”
Miss Phillips put her hand on the girl’s shoulder.
“Wait, Ruth,” she said quietly; “we must think everything over
carefully.” Then turning to Miss Allen, she said, “It isn’t fair to
torture Ruth in this fashion; suppose we let her go out, and talk the
matter over, and then give her our decision.”
Tears came to Ruth’s eyes, but she looked gratefully at Miss Phillips.
“Oh, thank you,” she stammered; “I’ll do whatever you say.”
“You may go, Ruth,” said Miss Allen.
The teachers talked for a long time over the affair, but finally Miss
Phillips triumphed. Ruth’s case was to be put up to the Girl Scouts,
while she remained away from the meeting; they were to decide whether
or not she was to stay in the troop. And each scout was to pledge “on
her honor as a Girl Scout” never to mention the matter outside.
That afternoon Marjorie took her Latin test, and passed with flying
colors; as soon as she learned of her success, she went straight to
Miss Phillips.
“I will give you the Tenderfoot test to-night, if you wish,” said the
Captain. “Then, if you are prepared, I will waive the usual custom, and
you may take the second-class test on Friday with the eight girls who
have not yet passed it.”
Lily was wild over the good news. Of course, Marjorie said nothing
about the cause of her incorrect mark; she simply stated that Miss
White had given her a second chance, and that Miss Phillips had
arranged a special scout test.
“And I am to be taken in on Friday,” she said, hugging her room-mate
joyfully. “Think of it, Lil, a Girl Scout at last!”
Every girl in the troop was genuinely glad to welcome Marjorie into
their ranks. She had waited so long for her happiness; she trembled now
lest something should happen to destroy it. She made a supreme effort
to calm herself sufficiently to take the second-class test.
But before the candidates were given their papers, Miss Phillips
announced that she had a matter of serious importance to bring to
their consideration.
“It concerns one of your sister scouts,” she said.
The girls looked questioningly from one to another. Ruth, only, was
missing; but no one had thought anything of that after her adventure on
Sunday; they all attributed her absence to the cold she had contracted.
Several of the girls thought of Marjorie; her entrance into the troop
had been out of the usual order of things; perhaps Miss Phillips meant
her.
The Captain, however, hastened to tell the story as impersonally as she
could. Consternation seized the group; they listened breathlessly.
“And now it is for you, Girl Scouts of Pansy Troop, to decide what must
be done with Ruth Henry. Shall we expel her from the troop? I would
like to hear some arguments on both sides of the question.”
Ethel, who probably disliked Ruth more intensely than any other girl in
the troop, and who had originally been the cause of her failing to make
the sorority, spoke against her. The girl had broken the first law of
the scouts; she was a menace to the welfare of the troop; the sooner
they got rid of her, the better.
Before the speech was finished, Marjorie rose to her defense. “I have
known Ruth a long time,” she said, “and I think I understand her. She
is dreadfully ambitious--always has been--but girls, I think she has
learned her lesson. And I have forgiven her--so can’t you do it, too?
Oh, please let her stay in the troop! Honestly, she’s suffered an awful
lot already!”
Frances also spoke in her behalf. When the vote was finally taken, the
Ayes carried it, twelve to four. Miss Phillips promised to take the
news to Ruth; the scouts pledged on their honor to drop the incident
from their minds.
All the candidates who took the second-class test that night passed
with honor, but Marjorie’s mark was highest of them all.
“Be up early to-morrow morning to get ready for our orphans,” said Miss
Phillips, as the troop separated; “we want to make them the happiest
girls in the world.”
“We couldn’t do that,” said Marjorie to Lily; “because I’m the very
happiest! Oh, Lil, I’m really going camping this summer!”