A MISADVENTURE
The idea of meeting a prince (the girls easily believed the pretty boy
in the velvet suit was at least a near-prince) brought to the Chickadees
a delicious thrill.
"You know," reasoned Thistle next morning, "the Manton's are government
people, and there are lots of foreign nobles down at Washington."
"That's so," agreed Doro. "He might have come up to the woods for his
health."
The tent was quickly made ready for inspection and when the woodcraft
class was dismissed, the girls were free to make the all-important call.
It was but a short distance from Camp Chickadee to the Nest, and the
four girls, constituting the committee, covered the ground speedily.
Vita answered the knock and told Pell, who was spokeswoman, that: "Mrs.
Manton no come back yet."
Nora not only heard the voices but she had seen the girls coming, and
feeling that she, as a member of the family, should "do the honors," she
summoned courage to greet the callers.
"Cousin Teddie will not be back before lunch time," said Nora sweetly.
"Won't you come in and wait?"
"Oh, no, thank you," faltered Thistle, observing one truant curl that
had escaped the confines of Nora's field hat. "We may come over later in
the afternoon--after drill," finished the Scout.
Pell was more composed. "Are you visiting Rocky Ledge?" she asked
cordially.
"Oh, yes. I expect to stay quite a while," replied Nora. She liked the
roguish smile Pell bestowed upon her--it was, somehow, a little like
Barbara.
"Then perhaps you would like to visit camp," pressed Thistle. "We love
callers, don't we, girls?"
This provided an opportunity for general conversation, and presently, no
one knew just how it happened, but the Scouts and Nora the rebel, were
having a perfectly splendid time on the side porch, talking about the
things girls love to discuss, but which always appear to the onlooker or
listener as a series of giggles and gasps.
Nora was so glad she wore the khaki suit. All her old love of finery
was, for the time, lost in the joy of feeling "in place" instead of "out
of place." And the girls at close range did look very well in their
uniforms. Betta and Thistle especially were just like models--Nora
remembered that wonderful Girl Scout poster, and her former dislike for
the uniform now threatened to turn to keen admiration. Just so long as
anything "made a picture" the artistic little soul was sure to be
satisfied. Changing an opinion was as simple a task for Nora as changing
a hair ribbon, but it had been rather unpleasant to have the Scouts
always held up as paragons.
Admitting she had not yet visited the Ledge, Nora was straightway
invited to do so, as the four Scouts expected to meet the other troup
members out gathering sweet fern there.
"Vita," she called back to the maid in the kitchen, "you keep Cap home,
I'll be back in a little while."
"Oh, no," objected Vita. "Mr. Jerry, he say you don't go never without
Cap----"
"But I am with the girls now," declared Nora a little sharply. She was
so afraid the others might guess that it was she who wore the velvets!
Looking very closely at each, however, she had not recognized the one
who accosted her on the fatal dress-parade day. Alma was not in the
party this time, so of course, Nora was correct in her opinion.
"Doesn't Mr. Manton like to have you go out alone?" asked Thistle,
innocently.
"Well, you see," stumbled Nora, "I am not very well acquainted yet."
"Was there a little boy visiting the Mantons the other day?" ventured
Betta. She was almost consumed with curiosity, and as they turned their
backs on the cottage the chance for unravelling the prince mystery
seemed lost to them.
"A boy? No," replied Nora. "I am the only one who has been here." A
flame of color swept her face and although she stooped to pick up an
acorn at the moment, at least two of the Scouts noticed the flush.
"Light curls," whispered Wyn. "She has very pretty ringlets----"
"Lots of girls have, of course," scoffed Betta. "You surely don't think
she's twins?"
"No," faltered the other, never dreaming how much closer than twins Nora
was to the little prince.
But Wyn was not easily satisfied. What was the sense of being appointed
a committee to investigate and not do it? She picked a wonderful spray
of pink clover before she asked Nora again:
"Do you ever see a little boy, a very fancy dressed boy, around the
cottage? One of our girls dreamed she saw one and we have been trying to
persuade her she had a vision."
A sigh of relief escaped Nora's lips. It should be easy to laugh the
story over, since only one girl had seen her and that one had but a
glimpse of her. She felt she would die of embarrassment now, if ever she
were really found out. And only a few days ago it had seemed so trifling
a thing! As she was about to reply to Wyn her hat fell off and down
tumbled the curls.
"What wonderful curls," exclaimed Wyn innocently. "Why do you hide them
under a hat?"
"Oh, I don't," replied Nora bravely, shaking out the golden cloud that
tossed about her ears. "But when we go into brambles it is more
comfortable to have one's head tidy," she finished.
"Say, Wyn," charged Thistle, "do you suppose Nora has no other interest
than in your visionary prince and yellow curls? Please allow her to
listen to some of my woodland lore."
"Oh, yes," mocked Betta. "Tell her all about your little fish in the
brook that wouldn't go near Treble's hook."
A scamper brookward responded to this sally.
"Oh, there's Jimmie," cried Thistle. "Hey Jimsby!" she hailed to a small
boy in a big boat. "Wait for us. We are going up to the Ledge. Give us a
row?"
Everyone, including Nora, ran towards the edge of the stream that
rippled through willows. Jimmie with his boat was rare good fortune to
come upon, and the Scouts were instantly eager to procure seats in the
big, old skiff.
Nora's timidity forced her to hold back, but she was too self-conscious
to admit it.
"Come on, little Nora," called out Thistle good naturedly. "I have a
place for you right alongside of me."
"Oh yes. Thistles never sink, you know," added Wyn.
Nora's heart heat fast. Could she say she would so much rather walk to
the Ledge?
"Hurry up, Sister," sang out Betta. "Thistle wants to get out of rowing
and you are her excuse."
Taking her fright literally in her hand and casting it into the brook,
Nora stepped into Jimmie's boat, smiling as if she were expecting the
best good time of her life. A thought of her nervous mother barely had
time to shape itself before all were seated, and the freckled faced
Jimmie handed over the oars, without so much as uttering either a
protest or agreeing to the piracy.
"Don't you love a little lake like this?" asked Betta, noticing how
silent was her companion.
"I have never been on the water," said Nora truthfully. "At our school
we are not allowed to take part in any dangerous sports."
"Oh," exclaimed Thistle. "How you must miss good times."
"But we have many lovely parties and dances and all that sort of thing,"
explained Nora. Her voice was entirely friendly and the difference of
opinions by no means clashed.
It was delightful. The girls sang, whistled, shouted and coo-heed, as
occasion demanded, the occasion being that of answering bird calls from
shore. Imitating birds was counted as the latest outdoor sport, and the
Chickadees vied with one another in the accomplishment.
"She's leakin'," said Jimmie without warning or apology.
"I should say she is!" cried Wyn, jerking her feet up from the bottom of
the boat. "Jimmie Jimbsy! Why didn't you say so?"
"Oh, you didn't give me a chance," replied the lad frankly.
"Oh, is it dangerous?" gasped Nora. Her cheeks went pale instantly.
"No, just gives us a chance to show who is the best swimmer. You can
swim, of course?" asked Wyn.
"No, not a stroke," replied the frightened Nora.
"Don't you mind Wynnie, Nora," spoke up Betta. "There's no possibility
of any one having to swim. This boat would sail the rapids, wouldn't
she, Jimmie?"
"Here's another hat," offered Thistle. "Say, Jim! At least you ought to
bring a tin can," she said in her jolliest tone.
They were actually bailing out. The water managed to make cold little
puddles in the bottom of the boat, and with the "large party aboard" as
Pell charged Wyn because she happened to weigh a few more pounds than
the others, the inflow threatened to bear the little craft down to the
water's edge, uncomfortably close.
But the girls were making a lark of it. Every time a hat emptied a shout
went up, and every time a hat leaked a groan moaned out.
"All in a life time," boomed Thistle. "But don't any one dare tell that
story about the philosopher and the boatman."
"Never heard it," responded Betta, lifting a particularly well filled
hat to the boat's edge.
Jimmie was now rowing. "Assisting him in that capacity," as Pell
expressed it, was Wyn.
"We gotta reach the Ledge," joked Thistle, "and I for one hate walking
on the water."
"We betta----"
"Betta-be-good," went up the shout as Betta attempted to preach. She
never got farther than that first mispronounced two syllables nowadays.
Nora was now regarding the situation with more calmness. After the first
fright it did not seem so dangerous, and the skill with which the jolly
Scouts handled the task of bailing, was fascinating.
But suddenly something happened; no one shouted, no one even spoke, but
in a twinkling the entire boatload of girls were scrambling in the
water.