The Pine, Not the Olive
Peggy Webster had her arms filled with pine branches when she met Ralph
Marshall coming toward Sunrise camp the following day.
She had gone a short distance into the woods for some light twigs for the
camp fire, as the supply had gotten low.
She was walking with her head thrown back to keep the pine needles from
touching her face, although their fragrance always thrilled her. They
were so spicy, so woodsy, so redolent of a fine sweetness that had no
cloying element in it. Surely the pine was a wise choice for the Camp
Fire emblem. If a girl can grow into a woman keeping the same kind of
spiritual fragrance that the pine tree sheds as a physical one, she has
no reason to fear that her value may ever fail.
Peggy had not seen Ralph since the afternoon of his uncomfortable
confession and she had not made up her mind just how she should meet him.
So now her eyes widened and her lips parted a little; she was already
flushed from the exertion of her work and the weight of the burden she
carried.
But Peggy spoke naturally enough, as she would have done to any
acquaintance, although the past sensation of pleasure she had felt at any
chance meeting with Ralph had gone.
Ralph came forward and quietly extended his hands for pine branches and,
in spite of the fact that Peggy hesitated, he took the greater number of
them from her. A few of the twigs broke and fell on the ground.
“I came over to camp this morning because Mrs. Burton asked me to come,
Peggy; otherwise I would not have intruded upon you,” he declared.
The girl shook her head.
“I have not the faintest desire to keep you away from Sunrise camp,
Ralph. Indeed, I would be sorry if you let me interfere with your actions
in any way. The other girls like you a great deal and I am sure would
miss seeing you.”
Ralph did not answer. He had noticed that Peggy had said “other girls,”
but also that she had spoken without a pretense of wishing to impress him
with the knowledge of her disfavor or her change of attitude toward him.
She had spoken with perfectly unconscious sincerity and Ralph Marshall
appreciated that, for once in his life at least, he had known a girl who
said what she meant. Peggy’s expression “other girls” had really been a
slip on her part, as she had not intended bringing herself into the
situation in any way.
At camp they parted, Peggy going to announce to her aunt that Ralph
wished to see her. And a few moments later Mrs. Burton appeared.
Ralph had been talking to Gerry and Sally, while he was forced to wait,
and as they were determinedly planning an excursion in which he was to
take part that afternoon, he had to be rescued by Mrs. Burton.
It was never possible to talk with any privacy in the immediate
neighborhood of the camp. The girls were constantly going in and out of
their tents, rebuilding the camp fire, or doing any one of a hundred
things in connection with their work or entertainment. This morning Mrs.
Webster was also sewing in front of the fire, with Dan coming back and
forth to talk to her.
Ralph Marshall did not see Billy Webster, but, as he had rather a fashion
of remaining alone, this did not mean that he had actually vanished from
camp.
“Suppose we walk in the direction of the cliffs, Ralph,” Mrs. Burton
suggested and then, almost as soon as they had started, she added:
“Yes, Billy has gone; he left before breakfast this morning so there
could be no chance of a family argument. Dan says he slipped out of their
tent without his knowing when he departed. And this, after I had expended
an hour of precious eloquence upon the young man last night, sitting up
with him when everybody else had gone to bed, and I was abominably
sleepy.”
Mrs. Burton shrugged her shoulders, expressing amusement and chagrin, as
well as anxiety.
“I am afraid I haven’t the slightest influence with him; but, then, no
one else has—or perhaps I don’t know. I asked Vera if she thought she
could influence him and she assured me she could not. She says my sister
is mistaken in thinking that she influences Billy; he has always
influenced her, although she is older and infinitely more sensible. But,
Ralph, I only tell you this about Billy, because I want you to know
something of the character of the boy you may have to deal with, if you
succeed in doing what I ask of you. I know you have never noticed Billy
particularly; few people do at first when Dan is around. Dan is so much
better looking and more agreeable. But Billy is the stronger character of
the two, strange as it seems to all of us. But whether for good or the
other thing,” Mrs. Burton smiled a little ruefully, “I suppose if we live
long enough we may find out. No gentleman could have been more courteous
to me than my nephew was last night, or more utterly unmoved by my
efforts at persuasion or command.
“There is just one thing we have to rely on in order to save Billy from
what may turn into a real difficulty. Vera Lageloff has confided in me
that she and Billy one afternoon discovered a group of objectionable men.
I don’t know anything about them, except that they were on a strike or
something of the kind, and that you and Peggy had met them by accident a
short time before. But Billy has a passion for the unfortunate. He had
only to hear that people are up in arms against something or some one and
he is always in the midst of them.
“It was curious, but whenever the laborers on my brother-in-law’s place
had any kind of grievance, they first put the matter up to Billy before
taking it to his father. And you know Mr. Webster well enough to
understand that he is the most just of men.”
Mrs. Burton had been walking slowly along but she now stopped and
frowned, facing her companion.
“I don’t know why but I am frightened. I am afraid Billy is mixing
himself up in some difficulty in which he has not the slightest concern,
or the least reason for taking part in. And Vera is under the same
impression, else she would never have told me what she did. She says
Billy made her promise not to speak of their excursion, and she hated
breaking her word to him. But she, too, is nervous about him and thinks
we ought to find out what he is doing. Of course, we may both be on the
wrong track. The boy may be off amusing himself somewhere in a perfectly
simple fashion. But if you will only find out, Ralph, I shall be
everlastingly grateful. I am pretty fond of Billy, though I don’t
understand him and he certainly annoys me.”
Ralph smiled in an entirely efficient and satisfying manner.
“Oh, I expect you take the young man too seriously, Mrs. Burton. All boys
have cranks of one kind or another, though I must confess Billy’s do not
seem to be the ordinary kind. Don’t worry any more; I’ll find him for you
and bring him home by the ear. Oh, I don’t mean literally; only from what
you have told me I expect the youth takes himself too seriously. He has
been ill so much he is probably more or less spoiled. I think the
influence of an older fellow may do him good. I am accustomed to taking
kinks out of the younger boys at college now and then, when they suffer
from swell heads.”
Ralph spoke in a condescending, elderly brother tone which amused Mrs.
Burton, although she showed no sign of it. Instead, she gave a little
sigh of relief.
“But please be careful, won’t you, Ralph,” she added. “Billy isn’t like
other people and he does have to be treated a little differently. Oh, I
know you men don’t think this of each other, and Billy’s father will not
consider the idea for a moment. But I think if he had talked to Billy
more frankly, and asked him to wait a while before he decided so many
questions for himself, the boy would not be so difficult.
“Let’s go back now, Ralph, as we have talked over the situation and said
as much as there is to say. I don’t suppose you can do anything
immediately; but, if, within the next few days you make any kind of
discovery, suppose you let me know first. I really am worried over
Billy’s realizing I have tried to spy upon him. I should have been
dreadfully angry with any one who had done the same thing to me when I
was his unreasonable age.”
“Oh, I don’t think Billy will have anything to complain of,” Ralph
replied, as if Billy’s attitude held not the slightest interest for him.
“And I don’t think I need be forever tracing the young person either—not
if he has fallen in with the group Peggy and I met.
“Fortunately, I know where they can be found if they have not disappeared
from their camping place. But what there can be in those fellows to
interest a youngster, I can’t see.
“I wonder if your man will lend me a burro? I walked over from my hotel,
and I think I’ll start out on the trail at once.”
Ralph was really interested in his quest. There was an agreeable element
of mystery in it as well as knight errantry. Besides, an older fellow is
seldom averse to making a younger one feel small, when he happens to
think it good for him. Moreover, Ralph had been considerably out of sorts
with himself for several days and it is always pleasanter to dwell on
another’s shortcomings.
As soon as Mr. Simpson had allowed him the use of one of the camp ponies
for the day, Ralph started off at a leisurely pace.
After all, it was rather good fun to have something definite to do,
instead of idling all one’s time. And if one was accomplishing a favor
for either Mrs. Burton or Peggy Webster, why all the more was the effort
worth while. Billy Webster really played a very small part in Ralph
Marshall’s thoughts.