From Tenderfoot to Golden Eaglet
_BOOKS BY_
AMY E. BLANCHARD
_IN THE GIRLS’ BOOKSHELF_
=A GIRL OF ’76.= A Story of the Early Period of the War for
Independence. 331 pages.
=ELIZABETH, BETSY AND BESS.= A Story. 284 pages.
=ELIZABETH, BETSY AND BESS--SCHOOLMATES.= A Story. 308 pages.
=THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS OF BRIGHTWOOD.= A Story of How They Kindled
Their Fire and Kept It Burning. 309 pages.
=FAGOTS AND FLAMES.= A Story of Winter Camp Fires. 306 pages.
=IN CAMP WITH THE MUSKODAY CAMP FIRE GIRLS.= A Story of Summer Camp
Fires by Cabin and Lake. 310 pages.
=A GIRL SCOUT OF RED ROSE TROOP.= A Story for Girl Scouts. 320 pages.
=A LITTLE MAID OF PICARDY.= Story of a Little Refugee in France. 338
pages.
=LUCKY PENNY OF THISTLE TROOP.= A Girl Scout Story. 320 pages.
=FROM TENDERFOOT TO GOLDEN EAGLET.= A Girl Scout Story. 317 pages.
Each illustrated by Colored Frontispiece and with
Colored Jacket.
=Cloth Bound. Price, $1.75 net each.=
_Also Books in the AMERICAN GIRL SERIES._
From Tenderfoot to
Golden Eaglet
_A GIRL SCOUT STORY_
By
AMY E. BLANCHARD
_Author of “A Girl Scout of Red Rose Troop,”
“Lucky Penny of Thistle Troop,” etc._
_ILLUSTRATED BY_
FRANK T. MERRILL
[Illustration]
W. A. WILDE COMPANY
BOSTON CHICAGO
_Copyrighted, 1921_,
BY AMY E. BLANCHARD
_All rights reserved_
FROM TENDERFOOT TO GOLDEN EAGLET
Foreword
The increasing numbers of Girl Scouts all over the country leads to
an increasing demand for information about them. It is sometimes from
rather unpromising material that a good scout is made. To demonstrate
this, to show what benefits come from obeying the laws, to encourage
girls who are but half-hearted scouts, and to prove that none need fail
of becoming a Golden Eaglet who is faithful to her set purpose, this
story of Joanne Selden is written.
A. E. B.
Contents
I. THE STOWAWAY 11
II. THE LOVELY LADY 25
III. HARD AT IT 38
IV. CHICO 55
V. “THE END OF A PERFECT DAY” 70
VI. EASTER EGGS 82
VII. DYE AWAY 97
VIII. “SMILE, SMILE, SMILE” 111
IX. BABY OR SOLDIER--WHICH? 125
X. UP THE RIVER 140
XI. HAWAIIAN PINEAPPLE 155
XII. A DASH FOR HELP 173
XIII. UNEXPECTED GUESTS 189
XIV. HERE’S WHERE I COOK 205
XV. A GARDEN PARTY 224
XVI. CHRISTMAS WREATHS 240
XVII. JIM CROW 256
XVIII. UNDER THE STARS 271
XIX. THE CONCERT 287
XX. REACHING THE GOAL 302
[Illustration]
From Tenderfoot to Golden Eaglet
CHAPTER I
THE STOWAWAY
Joanne was leaning on the deck’s rail watching the loading of freight.
The black, perspiring men made much ado about it, and Joanne did
not much wonder, for it seemed heavy work. She was not particularly
interested in the boxes and bales, but presently she did see something
which specially attracted her attention, and she leaned far over the
rail to catch a last glimpse of a little black pony which came along
with a dash once he gained his footing.
“Take care, Joanne,” her grandmother called from her steamer chair in
which she was already established, “don’t lean over too far.”
Joanne came back to the perpendicular. “Oh, but Gradda, you should
have seen the darling pony that just came aboard; he was so much more
interesting than all those bunches of bananas and crates of stuff. At
first he didn’t want to come and planted his feet as stubbornly as a
mule with his head up and ears back; that was when they put him on the
barge to bring him to the steamer; then they hoisted him up by a strap
over the side. He must have been scared, poor dear, but now he is safe,
I hope. He is such a darling little fellow, bigger than a Shetland, but
rough like one.”
“Why didn’t you call me to see all this?” asked her grandmother.
“Why, I was so excited and so afraid I would miss something that I
forgot. I wish I had a pony like that.”
“You couldn’t ride it, my dear, if you had.”
“But I could learn. Whose is it, do you suppose? I wonder if it is
going to a new home and if its people are on board. I’m going to ask
the captain when I get acquainted with him. There is a lot of freight,
isn’t there? I don’t suppose we can start till it is all on board.”
“We needn’t have come down so soon,” remarked Mrs. Selden, “but that
is just the way at the small ports; it takes forever to get ready to
start. Probably we shall be here the rest of the day. You’d better sit
down and rest, Joanne, and not wear yourself out by rushing around.”
“But, Gradda, there are hours and hours ahead when there will be
nothing to do but rest; I shall get too much rested.”
“Well, don’t get overheated,” charged Mrs. Selden as she watched the
slim little figure return to her place at the rail.
A pale, thin, dark-haired, dark-eyed little person was Joanne,
possessed of an exuberance of spirit and an enthusiasm which often
outran her strength, so that her grandmother was continually curbing
the excess of energy.
Presently she returned from her point of lookout to say: “I’m going to
hunt up Grad. He can find out whose is the pony.”
“Don’t get into mischief,” warned Mrs. Selden, picking up the book
lying open in her lap.
“I won’t,” returned Joanne dashing off.
She met her grandfather on the stairway. He had an open paper in his
hand, and looked a little troubled although there was a smile hovering
about his lips. “Well, Pickings,” he began--one of his names for Joanne
was Slim Pickings, shortened to Pickings--“where are you bound?”
“Just going to hunt you up, Grad,” answered Joanne. “I want you to find
out who that darling pony belongs to.”
Her grandfather puckered up his lips in a whimsical way. “I don’t
believe any one can tell you better than I can.”
“Oh, but why do you say that? Please tell me.”
Her grandfather made no direct answer, but asked, “Where is your
grandmother?”
“Out there on deck in a steamer chair.”
“Come along and let’s find her.”
Joanne linked her arm in her grandfather’s and together they appeared
before Mrs. Selden. She looked up with a smile. “Well, doctor,” she
began.
He dropped in her lap the open paper he had been holding. “What do you
make out of that, madam?” he asked.
She bent her gaze upon it, then looked up with a puzzled smile. “What’s
it all about, Gregory?” she inquired. “I can’t quite make it out. My
Spanish might be up to it, but the handwriting baffles me.”
Dr. Selden settled himself in the chair by her side and took possession
of the paper again. “Well, it seems that I am responsible for one more
passenger than I bargained for.”
“What do you mean?” asked his wife.
The doctor spread out the paper on his knee and ran over the contents
in glib Spanish, Joanne leaning on his shoulder the while.
Before he reached the last line she cried out excitedly: “The pony! the
pony! That is what _jaco_ means, isn’t it? Not the little black pony,
Grad, not that, is it? Oh, Grad, did he give it to you?” She plumped
down on her grandfather’s knee and tried to take the paper from him.
“Here, here, miss, go slow,” he cried. “That document is not for you.
Now keep still while I explain. You remember that man Paulino Lopez
whose son I doctored? Of course I couldn’t take any fee for a thing
like that, but that does not suit my friend Lopez, so here comes this
note, to the Señor Doctor, with the pony begging that I will accept
the gift from my ‘grateful servant, Paulino Lopez de Machorro who
kisses my hand.’ He has raised the little beast from a colt, it seems,
and when I went to his house offered it to me with his house and all
his possessions. Knowing the Spanish habit of placing one’s entire
establishment at the disposal of the merest acquaintance, I refused to
accept, which was the proper thing to do. He placed himself at my feet
theoretically; I answered in kind and I supposed that was the last of
it. But, no, here comes this; the pony is below, the man who brought
him has returned and here am I in a quandary. Now, what in the mischief
is to be done? We have no stable in Washington and who would look after
him? I don’t see how we are to keep him.”
“Of course we can’t,” agreed Mrs. Selden.
Joanne flung herself wildly upon her grandfather. “Oh, please, please,”
she cried. “I’ll take care of him; I’ll do anything if you’ll only keep
him.”
“You!” exclaimed her grandmother scornfully. “What do you know about
horses?”
“But I could, I could. I’d feed him and water him. I’d curry him and
I could learn to ride him. Oh, Grad, when kind heaven has sent such a
gift like manna from the skies could you have the heart to refuse it?”
“I suppose I shall have to make a pretense of accepting,” responded her
grandfather doubtfully. “It would never do to send the creature back.
Lopez would be hurt to the core, mortally offended, in fact. He would
probably denounce me as one of those boorish Americans who has no idea
of courtesy. No, the little beast will have to complete his journey; we
can’t pitch him overboard. Meanwhile we’ll decide what is to be done
with him. Here, Joanne, don’t make a spectacle of yourself like that.
Get up.” For Joanne had prostrated herself in Oriental style at her
grandfather’s feet.
She rose, however, at her grandfather’s bidding and went over to her
grandmother. “Goodness me, Joanne,” said that lady, “your hands are as
cold as ice. I do wish we could keep you from getting so worked up.”
“But who wouldn’t be worked up, when a darling pony is thrust upon
one?” argued Joanne.
“You’d be more liable to be worked down in such an event,” remarked her
grandfather laughing. “Quiet yourself, Joanne, or I shall have to send
you to bed with a hot water bottle.”
“I’m quiet, really I am,” protested Joanne.
“Of course it is an exciting thing for her, you must admit that,” put
in Mrs. Selden, taking her granddaughter’s part. “She has every reason
to be excited; you would have been at her age. You’re not far from
being so now,” she added slyly.
Encouraged by this Joanne put in her plea. “Won’t you take me down
where I can see him, Grad?” she begged. “Of course he’s yours not mine,
but as he is really one of the family I at least should be introduced
to him. I’m afraid he’ll be lonely among entire strangers and we must
make him understand that we are his friends.”
“All right,” responded her grandfather, rather glad of an excuse to
visit the little charge so unexpectedly placed in his care.
A docile but fine-spirited little creature they found him, already in
high favor with the sailors, the stewards and deck hands. He rubbed
his nose against Joanne’s shoulder when she spoke caressingly to him,
but turned from her with a low whinny when Dr. Selden spoke to him in
Spanish. “Chico, chiquita, que bueno jaco,” he said.
“What did you say to him?” queried Joanne all intent.
“I said ‘Little one, what a good little pony.’”
“I believe he understood. You must teach me to say that to him. I mean
to learn more Spanish; yes, I intend to be very proficient.”
Satisfied that they were leaving the pony in good hands the two went up
on deck again. Before long the last lighter was relieved of its freight
and soon the vessel was plowing through the blue waters leaving adobe
houses and waving palmettos behind them. Joanne watched the little port
fade from sight in a flare of sunset light, and then gave her attention
to her fellow passengers whom she had scarcely noted before.
Her grandfather, a retired surgeon of the navy, her grandmother,
a dainty little body, with Joanne, their only grandchild, had been
spending the winter in the West Indies where they had gone mainly for
Joanne’s health. She was a frail child from the first. Her father had
died in the Philippines, her mother, none too robust, soon followed
him, and the little girl was taken in charge by her grandparents
who doted on her, but were perhaps a little over anxious and over
particular, so that she was never allowed to rough it and knew little
of the outdoor sports which most girls enjoy. She had studied at home
with a governess, losing much time because of real or fancied illness,
yet she had picked up much information from a grandfather who had
travelled all over the world and knew many things not taught in books.
By reading much Joanne had gained more knowledge, so she was by no
means an ignorant young person in spite of having studied few school
books.
Restless child that she was she paid many visits to the little pony
between the time the vessel left her port and the following morning,
sometimes alone, sometimes in her grandfather’s company. Between whiles
she took careful survey of her fellow passengers hoping to see some one
her own age of whom she could make a companion, but all appeared to be
much younger or much older. The nearest approach to an acquaintance
was begun with a lad a little older who smiled genially at her when
she paced along the deck with her grandfather or rushed impetuously by
herself as she tried to see how many circuits she could make within a
given time.
This boy was sitting by a lady whom Joanne had noticed from the first.
She, too, had smiled at the little girl who had smiled back. “I like
that lady,” she told herself. “She is so handsome and has such kind
eyes and such a lovely smile. I’d like to find out who she is. I
suppose the boy is her son. I like him, too; he has the same kind of
smile. He looks rather serious when the smile flashes out like the sun
from under a cloud. I’d like to tell him about the pony.”
But if the arrival of the pony was an exciting incident of the voyage
a still greater one occurred the next morning when one of the ship’s
officers came to where Joanne was with her grandparents, sitting still
for a wonder.
“Dr. Selden?” said the officer.
“I’m the man,” responded Dr. Selden.
“Would you be good enough to come below, sir?”
Up jumped Joanne. “Oh, there’s nothing wrong with the pony, is there?”
she cried. “He was all right just after breakfast. I gave him a lump of
sugar. I hope it didn’t disagree with him.”
The officer’s grave face relaxed into a smile. “Well, no, I can’t say
there is anything wrong with the pony;” he emphasized the last word.
“I’ll come,” said Dr. Selden getting up.
“Oh, please, Grad, I’m coming, too,” declared Joanne.
Her grandfather looked inquiringly at the officer.
“That is as you say, sir,” the man answered the look by saying.
The two men started off, Joanne following close at their heels. She was
sure in spite of what the officer said that there was something afoot
which concerned the pony even though there might be nothing the matter
with his health.
The officer led the way to the captain’s room where, with eyes half
frightened, half defiant, stood a begrimed, frowsy, half-clad little
lad, mumbling out replies to the captain’s questions.
The captain arose as his visitors came in. “Good-morning, doctor,” he
said. “Sorry to trouble you, but we thought you might be able to help
us out of a little difficulty. This your granddaughter?”
“My granddaughter, Joanne.”
The captain held out a hearty hand. “Sit down, won’t you?” he said,
yielding his chair to Joanne. “I’ve no doubt you’ll be interested in
this affair, too. One of our men,” he went on, addressing himself to
Dr. Selden, “discovered this boy this morning. He had stowed himself
away somewhere in the hold. Do you happen to know him? You speak
Spanish, probably.”
“To a certain extent,” Dr. Selden replied looking the lad over
critically. “What is your name, _muchacho_?” he asked in the language
mentioned.
“Pablo Lopez,” returned the boy.
“Son of Paulino Lopez?”
“Si, señor.”
The doctor nodded. “Yes, I remember; you are the boy I treated. Why are
you here? Why have you run away from home?”
“It is the little pony, señor, the small one who is my always friend. I
cannot be apart from him. No, it is not possible, I come that where he
go so I. You are so good. I tell myself that the Señor Doctor who was
so kind as to take away that agony in the ear he will not send me back;
he will permit me to go back with him to take care of Chico.” All this
was poured out in voluble Spanish, beseechingly, tearfully.
“Humph!” The doctor looked at the captain. “This is a pretty kettle
of fish, isn’t it?” he said. “He’ll have to go back on the next ship,
of course. Meanwhile I will be responsible for him. I suppose you can
manage to give him a place to sleep and something to eat.”
The captain’s lips relaxed under his short moustache. “I don’t exactly
see where you are responsible, doctor,” he remarked, “and of course we
can’t let him starve, can we? He can bunk in somewhere; that’s easily
arranged. We asked you to see him because we thought you might be able
to identify him, as it was your pony he was concerned about. Certainly
he must be returned to his parents. You know them?”
“Ye-es, after a fashion,” the doctor replied. “You see I happened to
perform a slight service for them. In some way or other a grain of
corn had penetrated this boy’s ear and had begun to sprout, causing
him intense pain. One of the waiters at the hotel learned that I was a
surgeon, informed this Paulino Lopez, who was a relative of his, and
they begged that I would see the boy. Out of sheer humanity I couldn’t
refuse. I went out to where Lopez lives, extracted the corn and in a
few days the boy was all right.” The doctor paused.
“But where does the pony come in?” asked the captain.
“That is the sequel. One is bound to get some sort of boomerang if he
is too soft-hearted. I’m not practising, as you know, and anyway I
would have no right to take a fee, besides who would for a little thing
like that? As I told you I went out to the Lopez ranch, saw a swarm of
half naked children and a horde of black workmen. This Lopez insisted
upon giving me this pony then and there, since I wouldn’t take a fee.
I refused, of course, knowing the Spanish grand manner of offering
gifts, but here comes the little beast after all when I have no use
for him, and now appears this boy whom we don’t know what to do with.
Pretty hard lines, isn’t it, in return for a common, every-day bit of
benevolence?”
The doctor was so testy that the captain laughed. “Well,” he said,
“some persons might not think so. I’m glad you can tell us something
about the boy. I thought maybe you could. We’ll see that he gets
back home all right.” He turned to the boy. “You stay on the steamer
till we get to New York, then we send you back home by next steamer.
Understand?”
The boy looked bewildered, his lips twitched, his hands twisted
nervously. He cast an imploring look at Joanne who was observing him
closely. His big, mournful eyes questioned her, then he plumped down on
his knees before her, pouring forth a string of Spanish, only a little
of which she could understand. Still, what she did gather was enough to
make her jump up from the chair impetuously and go to her grandfather,
clasping his arm till he should interrupt his talk with the captain
long enough so that he might listen to her.
“Grad, Grad,” she said excitedly, “you know you said you couldn’t keep
Chico, that’s his name, the boy says--you couldn’t keep him because
there would be no one to look after him. I said I would, and you
laughed. Now, you see, comes this boy in answer to my prayers. He’s
just sent from heaven like the pony. I’ve always been perfectly crazy
for a pony, and I’ll be ill, I will, I will, if he is torn from me.”
She burst into tears.
Her grandfather looked down at the excited face and then passed his
hand over the girl’s hair. “What would you do with such a nervous,
excitable little body?” he said to the captain, who shook his head as
if that were a question he couldn’t answer.
“You said--you said--you’d think it over,” sobbed Joanne, “and here
when everything arranges itself so wonderfully you turn a deaf ear to
my plea.”
The captain gave a little chuckle as the doctor turned a whimsical
glance upon him.
“There, there, child,” said the doctor soothingly, “there is no use in
making tragedy of this. We can’t do anything now, here on the high seas
anyway. We have no intention of throwing the pony overboard and the
boy after him. They’ve both got to stay on board till we dock. In the
meantime we will see what can be done. It isn’t a matter that can be
decided in a moment. I suppose the boy’s parents are crazy because of
his absence. We’d better send them a wireless, eh, captain?”
The captain nodded. “We’ll see to that.”
“Come then, kitten,” said her grandfather to Joanne. “It is all right.
I’ll tell the boy that we will see what can be done. Now go to your
grandmother. Better wash off some of those superfluous tears first.
I’ll come up after I have settled some further matters with the
captain.”
So Joanne dried her eyes and nodded to the boy, calling upon her small
stock of Spanish for a word of comfort. “_Paciencia! Paciencia!_
Pablo,” she stammered, and with a bright smile at the captain, chasing
away her tears she ran to her stateroom.