A PADDLE, A SWIM AND A SUN DIAL
Getting the mail for Camp Comalong was one of the duties that brought
joy to the Scouts, for each morning, tent obligations attended to and
before the hike, swim or other scheduled activity was entered upon, a
group of the girls either rowed in Mud Lark, the boat loaned them by
an admiring neighbor, or they paddled off in their bright red canoe,
the Flash, down the lake to the Post Office Bend, there to receive
their allotment from Uncle Sam's mailing service.
Usually those girls whose duty it was to raise and lower the
colors--when the beautiful flag contributed by Grace's family would be
raised to breeze at morning and lowered into loving hands at
sundown--this squad also took care of the mail, on their flag week.
So it happened that to-day Julia and Grace were due to paddle down
stream for the mail.
"I think," began Julia in her meditative way, for Julia was something
of a literary aspirant, "that we have very vigorous weather in a place
like this. When it storms it storms furiously, and when it's lovely
it's just perfect, as it is to-day."
"Uh--huh!" assented Grace, waving frantically at a canoe across the
lake in which she recognized a brace of sweaters--one orange, the other
jade--worn respectively by Camille and Cynthia, without a doubt.
"Grace, I don't believe you notice the weather very closely," came
back Julia, disappointed that her discourse should fall upon deaf
ears.
"'Deed I does, honey. I noticed it plenty the other night, and am not
keen on another spell like that. But when we have really good weather
I don't believe in tempting it or spoiling it with flattery. You can't
tell about such things, Julie dear."
The blonde girl laughed merrily. Who could resist Grace and her
unanswerable arguments?
There was a satisfying amount of mail to take back to camp, and among
the letters was one addressed to Grace and postmarked "Town."
"A new friend," remarked Julia, handing this over to Grace, "or
perhaps an invitation to a picnic."
"No; it's from Peg," returned her companion, already scanning the
paper in her hand. Her brows were drawn into a serious line and her
full red lips puckered as she scrutinized the page.
"Anything wrong?" Julia asked.
"Not wrong, but--here read it----" Grace handed over the letter, and her
companion read the lines.
"Well, that's all right," said Julia, glancing up. They were seated in
the canoe and delaying to read their personal mail. "If she doesn't
want any companions I don't see why we should force ourselves upon
her."
"But don't you see, Jule, she says she does appreciate our friendship,
but that just now she is not free to follow her own pleasure? Can't
you easily see that the girl is worried about something and afraid to
even have friends?"
"Yet, Gracie, why should we intrude?"
"Because if ever a girl needed friends she does, and I need not remind
you of our Scout pledge," replied Grace. "I don't usually look for
trouble, Bobbs, but I think I see it in that page, and I would like to
help Peg to some little bit of summer happiness. You know how much
attention we give to making city children happy at Christmas; and here
is a girl all alone in a mountain cabin, with no playmates except Shag
and her pony Whirlwind, and she says plainly how much she enjoyed our
campfire on that one, stingy little night. Now Julie, I couldn't let
her slip out of our entire summer with one campfire and a chocolate
cake."
This was so entirely "Gracious" that Julia laughed outright.
"All right, Buddie; just tell me what to do and I'll help you any way
I can. I believe you are right, of course. Anyone can see that Peg is
tugging away with some sort of claim holding her down. Do you think
there can be anyone ill, or perhaps sick mentally and hidden in her
cabin?"
"Oh, no, I never thought of that. You mean an insane person?"
"They might not be really insane, but you know when a person's mind
becomes unbalanced their folks always hate to have them sent away from
home," explained Julia.
"I don't believe that's it. But there is some sort of mystery there.
The thing that I resent most is the mean remarks those snippy girls
make about her. I just can't stand it, to hear two such silly things
as those Buzzys, say such slurring things about a girl who never seems
to trouble anyone, or in any way invite criticism."
"Yes, it is cowardly. But what can you expect of that type? Didn't
they try hard enough to get us into a dispute the other night?"
"Yes, and I think Mackey was very calm not to say something back to
them."
"That would really have attracted attention. She was wise to ignore
them," declared Julia. "Well, let's bring the girls their mail and
don't worry about Peg. I can't imagine there is anything seriously
wrong, and, perhaps, if we just agree with her suggestion something
will happen to explain it all."
"Perhaps," said Grace doubtfully. She dipped her paddle and they
started back, but her usually radiant face wore a look of perplexity.
The lake was alive with craft now, many bathers taking to their boats
before "going in," as the swim was popularly termed. Canoes, rowboats,
launches and every sort of water vehicle was in evidence, ingenuity
outdoing itself in the samples of boyish workmanship displayed.
There was the "Captain Kidd," a big, flat-bottomed rowboat with sails
striped in black and red. This was the property of Benny and his
friends, and perhaps attracted as much and more favorable attention
than the glistening mahogany "Amerik" that cost its owner a fabulous
sum, and was known as a masterpiece in its line.
"There really is a lot more to see on a lake than on the ocean,"
remarked Julia, in spite of the inattention of Grace. "I like it so
much better up here than down at the shore."
"I do, too," agreed Grace, giving a mighty tug to pull the "Flash" up
on shore. "But there's one thing we miss--we can't come in on a
surfboard here. I just love that sport."
"But we couldn't canoe on the ocean, either," Julia qualified.
"Oh, yes, we could. I did--once in a while, and it was simply
wonderful. Here are the girls! They couldn't wait for their mail."
In bathing suits, ready and waiting for Miss Mackin, the Bobbies were
now at the swimming pier.
"Mail?" they cried out.
"Bushels," called back Grace.
"But we ought not to open it here," said Julia, hiding Corene's pet
letter behind her. "You know the hotels positively refuse to allow
anyone to take mail until it is sorted in the office."
"Bunk," declared Isabel, more forcibly than elegantly. "Guve me that
mailsky!"
"Here it is," agreed Grace, "and please wait for us. You got ahead of
us in your suits but we will make up for it in the swims. Come along,
Julia. Let's try out some of that perfect day stuff you have been
preaching about."
And it proved all that had been forecast for it. So ideal were
conditions that Miss Mackin agreed to having her girls try out some of
the tests for Water Sport Day, an event planned to take place later in
the season, and looked forward to with keenest anticipation.
The Norms were with the Bobbies, and together they practiced, and
invented stroke variations, eager to show skill in the water sports
and to win awards for that line of efficiency.
Isabel proved to be the best long distance "floater" and her weight,
which was something more than that of her companions, was credited
with the advantage. Grace was more daring than any of the others, and
kept the Norms and Miss Mackin busy shouting warnings to her. Louise
had a very reliable, even, clean-cut stroke, and could cover a
distance and come out "without a puff," as Cleo described her
serenity, while Cleo could dash, and sprint, and "get there" on
"shorts" perhaps a little more surely than the others could.
So it seemed each might find her particular character in the water
comedy, and the morning was not half long enough to put the popular
drill through all the paces invented.
Julia and Louise were on shore resting a few moments when the latter
caught sight of something particularly striking in the way of a
figure, posed on the springboard.
"Look!" she motioned Julia. "It's the Buzzers."
"Sure enough. Wherever do they get their outfits? Imagine, crocodile
green?"
"Are they green? Isn't it frogs?" laughed Louise. "At any rate that
bathing suit is green enough to include all samples."
The figure thus criticised sprang off the board now, and was lost in
the lake for a few moments. Then it reappeared on the surface and made
for shore.
"There's the sister," said Grace, who had joined the spectators. "How
do you like that geranium? The green would go beautifully with it
under glass."
"Not jealous, are we?" questioned Cleo, glancing at the simple jersey
suits worn by her companions.
"No, indeed," replied Julia. "I should hate to try to swim under those
colors. But who is that they are talking to? Looks like Peg!"
"It is. I thought first it was a boy, she has no cap on and her hair
is so slick. I wonder if they really know her?" queried Grace.
"They don't have to know anyone; we ought to understand that. Now, we
must pass them on the way up the rock. There's Mackey whistling. Let's
go."
"It will look as if we walked by them purposely," Louise hesitated.
"Oh, no it won't. We have to take that path, besides, why shouldn't we
speak to Peg?" asked Cleo. She did not know Grace had received the
letter with its plea for discontinuing the friendly relationship.
"All right, come along. We may as well have it over with. They are
sure to say something sarcastic," Julia raced on ahead, so whatever
might be said would not be aimed directly at her.
But for once the inquisitive two did not heed passersby. Neither did
Peg appear to see the Scouts, for she and the two flashily dressed
ones were talking in such an excited manner, their remarks, in part at
least, could be easily overheard.
"Now, remember, we have warned you," said one, her voice sharp and
imperative.
"I have no reason to fear anything of the kind," Peg retorted. She
stood close to the little path leading from the lake to the woodland
road, and along this the bathers had to pass to reach the camp
grounds. Her suit was dark blue jersey, she wore no socks but looked
only a little girl, or even a boy, with her closely cut, straight hair
and no bathing cap. As they passed along each Scout was conscious
there was a certain strength and individuality so simply outlined in
the appearance of the oblivious bather.
"We promised daddy we would speak to you," said the other girl, she in
the geranium outfit, "otherwise we wouldn't do so. I can tell you we
are not anxious to be seen----"
These snatches had been heard piecemeal, as the Scouts came and went
past the spot where the conversation was being held, but when it was
all put together a short time later the total seemed to imply that
these girls were somehow threatening Peg.
"Another reason why I am determined to stand by her," insisted Grace.
She had passed the letter around for inspection and all agreed Peg was
trying to hide some real trouble, or perhaps some "living sorrow," as
Corene expressed the possibility.
"But I wouldn't send her any more cake, if I were you, Grace," advised
Corene. "One doesn't like to have things forced upon them."
"I don't intend to; in fact there isn't any more nor likely to be,
unless we get another food shower. I took a spoon for the crumbs from
my box at noon," Grace loved cake, even the crumby kind.
"Why didn't you try a straw?" teased Louise. "Or if you had asked me I
would have given you a real cookie! I have three left."
"Do you know, Bobbies," asked Isabel suddenly, "we are supposed to
make a sun dial to-day? And the stake is all ready. See it waiting
over there?"
"We do, we do, and I have first shot!" Grace sprang up to outline the
circle in which the shaft was to be erected as a sun dial.
"It must be exactly there," directed Cleo. Grace had it exactly
somewhere else.
"We have to try it and the sun is just right now for a life-sized
shadow," insisted Grace. "Here, help me dig the hole, someone. I want
to catch the two o'clock sun."
Miss Mackin, who had been in the tent, came out to oversee this
experiment.
Willing hands soon had the shaft erected; then the pegs which were all
ready laid out to be driven in at the end of the shadow for every
hour, as that hour came around, were arranged in a relative position.
"Do we have to stay up all night to finish it?" asked Helen,
innocently.
This brought forth a wild shout.
"The moon doesn't overlap the sun, Nellie dear," answered Cleo. "We
will probably leave off picket duty when the sun gets behind that
hill."
Peg number two was driven in at exactly two o'clock, and the shadow
was so clearly outlined everyone thought this an ideal method of
keeping time; but later the shadows were shifty, and only an amount of
patience and much running back and forth put the three most important
hours of the afternoon in the dial.
"I am going to start again early in the morning," declared Grace. "I
saw a sun dial in a Chicago park, it was made of those queer tiny
cabbage flowers, the kind they say keeps the house from getting on
fire, and I remember how effective it was."
"Did they use them to keep the park from getting on fire?" taunted
Cleo. But Grace was making sure that nothing unforeseen would happen
to the pegs left over from the hours already "pegged in."
"Won't have to wind it----" she told the others.
"But I should hate to have to catch the Black Hawk boat by its silent
system," confessed Julia.