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[Illustration: THE PICTURESQUE FIGURE STOOD IN THE CENTER.]
THE GIRL SCOUTS AT ROCKY LEDGE
OR
_Nora's Real Vacation_
By LILIAN GARIS
Author of
"The Girl Scout Pioneers," "The Girl Scouts
at Bellaire," "The Girl Scouts at Sea Crest,"
"The Girl Scouts at Camp Comalong," etc.
_ILLUSTRATED_
NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
THE GIRL SCOUT SERIES
By LILIAN GARIS
Cloth. 12mo. Frontispiece.
THE GIRL SCOUT PIONEERS
Or, Winning the First B. C.
THE GIRL SCOUTS AT BELLAIRE
Or, Maid Mary's Awakening
THE GIRL SCOUTS AT SEA CREST
Or, The Wig Wag Rescue
THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP COMALONG
Or, Peg of Tamarack Hills
THE GIRL SCOUTS AT ROCKY LEDGE
Or, Nora's Real Vacation
_Other volumes in preparation_
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, NEW YORK
Copyright, 1922, by
Cupples & Leon Company
The Girl Scouts at Rocky Ledge
_Printed in U. S. A._
CONTENTS
I. Jim or Jerry: Ted or Elizabeth
II. The Attic
III. A Broken Dream
IV. Transplanted
V. The Woods at Rocky Ledge
VI. A Prince in Hiding
VII. Cap to the Rescue
VIII. The Story Alma Did Not Tell
IX. A Misadventure
X. A Novel Initiation
XI. Too Much Teasing
XII. A Diversion Nobly Earned
XIII. Crawling in the Shadows
XIV. Circumstantial Evidence
XV. Waif of the Wildwoods
XVI. Lady Bountiful Junior
XVII. A Picnic and Otherwise
XVIII. The Little Lord's Confession
XIX. A Deserted Tryst
XX. The Worst Fright of All
XXI. Strange Disclosures
XXII. The Danger Squad in Action
XXIII. Raiding the Attic
XXIV. Fulfillment
THE GIRL SCOUTS AT ROCKY LEDGE
CHAPTER I
JIM OR JERRY: TED OR ELIZABETH
"Do you mind if I call you Jim?"
"Why no--that is----"
"And may I call the lady Aunt Elizabeth?"
"Elizabeth?"
"If you don't mind; I'd love to."
"But the fact is----"
"You see, I have always wanted a man named Jim to protect me, and now
that I've got you I'd love to have you as Jim. Then, I have perfectly
loved the Aunt Elizabeths. They're always so lacy and cameo like." She
stood off and critically inspected the smiling woman in the most modern
of costumes.
"You're really too young," continued the girl, "but you'll grow old soon
I hope, don't you think so?"
"I'm afraid I shall----"
"Then that's that. And I'm glad we are settling things so quickly. Could
I see my attic room now, Aunt Elizabeth?"
"Attic room?"
"Isn't it?"
"Not exactly. We were giving you the yellow room; it's so cheerful and
pretty."
"Well, of course, I don't want to be too particular, and it's lovely of
you, dear Aunt Elizabeth, but all girls taken in are put in attic rooms,
aren't they?"
"Taken in?"
"Yes, sort of adopted you know. The attic always gives the shadowy ghost
business." There was just a hint of disappointment in the child's manner
now.
"We've got a first rate attic room," suggested the man who was tilting
up and down in a heel and toe exercise. "And what do you say, Ted, I
mean Elizabeth," he chuckled, "if we give----"
"Jerry, don't talk nonsense," interrupted the young woman not unkindly
but with some decision. "I am sure she would rather have the pretty----"
"But, please, could I see the attic room?" came rather timidly the very
thread of a voice from the little girl.
"It's ghostly." This from Jerry.
"That would be just perfect. Does the roof slant so it gives you the
nightmare on your chest, you know? And does the moon sort of make faces
in the windows?" Interest was overcoming timidity.
"That may be the trouble," replied the man, with a chuckle. "But I'll
tell you, little girl. Suppose we take the yellow room until you have a
chance to inspect thoroughly. You see your--er--Aunt Elizabeth has had
it all planned and fixed up----"
"Oh yes. Do excuse me for being impolite. You see, I've been thinking
about it so long. The school was lovely, and the teachers all very kind,
but it was sort of a regular kindness, you know, and did not have any of
my dreams coming true in it. Do you dream an awful lot here?"
"Day dreams or night dreams?" asked the man.
"Oh, wake-dreams, of course. The other kind don't mean anything. Just
stickers in your brain sort of pricking, you know. But the wake-dreams
can come true, if you plague them long enough. I guess they get tired
fighting you off and they have to give in and happen. What do you want
to call me?" This was a sudden digression and marked with a complete
flopping down of the talkative child.
"Your name is Nora, isn't it?" replied the young woman who seemed rather
glad to sit down herself. They were on the big square porch and rockers
were plentiful.
"Yes, my name is Nora, and it's pretty good, but hard to rhyme easily.
Then I would rather have you call me the name you have always called
your dream child."
"Mine was Bob," blurted the man, "but Bob wouldn't exactly suit you."
"Oh, yes it would," she jumped up again and left the rocker swaying
wildly. "Bob would be splendid for me. Would it suit you, Aunt
Elizabeth? What was your pet name?"
"I think Nora too pretty to drop. Besides, don't you really think a name
is a part of one's self and ought to be loved and respected?"
"That's just it. I want to--that is, if you don't mind, I want to be the
self I planned, not this one I didn't have anything to say about. It's
just like religion. When we grow up big as I am, we ought to be allowed
to choose." Her manner was even more babyish than her appearance.
"Big as I am!" Jerry repeated this to a rosebush.
As a matter of fact she was not much bigger than a child of eight years
might be, but she claimed a few more birthdays and she looked about as
substantial as a wind flower. Her eyes were blue, her hair light and
fluffy, and she wore such a tiny white slip of a dress, socks and
sandals and a white lace hat! Grown up? She looked just like an
old-fashioned baby.
"Then, shall I be Bobbs?" asked Nora a moment later, with hope in her
voice.
"Ye-e-s, and if--the auntie wants to soften it she can call you
Babette," ventured Jerry. "And now, if the christenings are over,
suppose we go inside and freshen up. Come along Bob, you are going to be
my helper now, aren't you?" Jerry's eyes twinkled with his voice. He
was, plainly, enjoying himself.
"I'd love to help--especially with outdoor work," replied the girl. "And
you measure land, don't you?" she asked.
"Yes, that's about it. In other words I'm a surveyor," explained Jerry.
"And Aunt Elizabeth helps. Isn't that lovely? We won't, any of us, have
old pesky house work to think about. I haven't ever dreamed a dream, not
a single one, about housekeeping. Some one always does that for me, or I
just don't think about it at all and it's all done beautifully," boasted
Nora. "I love your place. It's so romantic," she expanded her arms and
fluffy little skirt to fill the big chair. "I feel, somehow, everything
is going to come true now." Relief toned this statement while she looked
wistfully out of blue eyes, and any one might have easily guessed that
something very dear was included in that word "everything."
The young woman, who was threatened with being made over into an old
Aunt Elizabeth with laces and cameos to boot, gazed intently at the
small personality. She realized it was a personality, a little dreamer,
a big romancer, and a very weird sample of the modern girl,
self-trained.
He who was to become "Jim" on the spot, seemed tickled to death over it
all, and kept snapping his brown eyes, first at the newly named Bobbs
and then his life's partner, until glints of fun-sparks charged the very
air.
"It might be a good idea to put on tags for a day or two," he suggested
playfully. "I would hate to spoil the program by calling Elizabeth here
just Ted."
"Oh, do you think it will be hard? I didn't mean to make trouble, and,
if you say so, I'll just put the dream back again on its peg and let it
stay there. It really doesn't have to come true right now. There are so
many new things to talk about," temporized Nora, considerately.
"I think it would be lots better to try things out for a little while
under our own names," suggested the young woman, eagerly. "And I have
always loved the name Nora, so you see, _my_ dream will be coming true,
at any rate," she smiled.
"Goody--goody! It's all right, then. I'll be Nora, and you'll be Ted,
that's pretty: what does it mean?"
"Theodora," answered the man promptly.
"Then it is prettier than the old-fashioned Elizabeth," agreed the
child. "Really, things are different when you think about them than what
they are when--you run right into them, aren't they?"
"Sure thing, especially water wagons and book agents," joked Jerry.
"And Jerry is lovely, too, just as nice as Jim. I knew a lovely old
tramp dog named Jerry." Again the wistful blue eyes dreamed.
"That's real nice," added the owner of the popular name. "Was
he--gentle?"
"As a lamb. I used to ride on his back!"
"And was he--er--handsome?"
"He had the loveliest ears, all little pleaty wrinkles, and such big,
floppy feet----"
"All right, I'll be content to be his namesake, only don't expect me to
howl when the phonograph plays. I can't undertake to do that," demurred
the affable Jerry.
They all laughed a little at this protest, for Jerry Manton seemed good
natured enough to "howl" if occasion demanded it. Even the moon might
have inspired him "doggerly" so to speak.
Mrs. Manton picked up the little hand satchel that Nora kept at her side
when the other baggage was being disposed of, and gently urged the
little visitor into the Nest, there to settle that other question of
attic or guest room.
The short bright curls bobbed up and down incredulously, as their
surprised owner looked in on the yellow room, a moment later.
"Golden! Perfectly golden!" exclaimed the child. "But, of course, one
could never get the nightmare in this lovely bird cage." She stopped,
apparently reasoning out bird cages, nightmares and ghostly attics. "And
I have simply got to have a strange experience," she scratched her heels
together anxiously. "I just couldn't give that up," she decided.
"But you do think this is a pretty room?" asked the hostess, her own
soft eyes embracing affectionately the golden space before them.
"Glorious!" declared Nora rapturously. "And I'm afraid it has been
rather silly to get set on certain things without really knowing about
them. Dreams are uncertain, after all."
Jerry was just coming up the rustic stairs.
"But the attic is a real spook parlor," he chimed in, "and I've always
loved it myself. I have a corner for my trash, and the sleeping quarters
aren't bad. You see this place was built with government money, and
that's always--well, real money," he finished, significantly.
"But Jerry," again came the opposition from Mrs. Manton, "you know we
have scarcely had time to look that attic over since we came here. It
seems perfectly absurd to let Nora go up there," she paused. "I know
it's clean, for Vita takes a pride in fixing attics, but why----"
"Now Ted," the voice was as soft as a boy's, "why not let our little
girl have her way?"
"I really am not objecting," said the wife with a smile, "I'm just
qualifying."
"But who dares qualify day dreams?" asked the man, with a comical twist
in his voice.
Nora stood on the threshold, uncertainly. "I guess maybe," she pondered,
"we think a lot about dreams when we haven't real things to think about,
like playthings, for real," she finished.
"That's exactly it, dear," said Mrs. Manton, "and day dreams are not
always healthy, either."
"All the same," insisted Jerry, "I'm strong for that attic. It smells
just like the woods after my men have made a good, clean cutting. Come
along, girlie, and let me show it to you."