PLANNING THE TRIP.
If talking about the summer’s excursion could have hastened the date of
the event, the weeks would have passed in rapid succession, for the Girl
Scouts never grew tired of discussing its every aspect. Whenever two or
three of them were together the conversation drifted inevitably to this
one all important topic; at other times, when lessons were put aside for
the evening or a Sunday afternoon offered an opportunity for rest, the
five scouts would gather together in Marjorie’s sitting-room to talk of
their plans. Sometimes they would discuss the country through which they
were to motor, and read descriptions from books about the scenery; at
other times they would be concerned with the actual problems of the
trip; but invariably they would end up with the contemplation of their
reward, giving expression to their dreams of owning motor-cars of their
own. To the poorer girls the idea was too entrancing ever to lose its
novelty; Florence and Daisy would talk for hours of the trips they meant
to take, the people they would invite to go riding with them, the
pleasure and the service they intended to give. Had it not been for
these hours of happy anticipation the time would have seemed to pass
slowly; all of the girls—even Marjorie, who was usually too busy to be
bored—grew impatient of the months that intervened.
But at last the college term neared its close, and the scouts began to
make definite preparations for their excursion. Marjorie selected her
committee and planned to buy the equipment in Philadelphia, a week or so
before the time to start.
She had commissioned John Hadley to order the other automobile—a seven
passenger touring car—and had thereby won an invitation for herself and
Alice and Lily (the other two members of her committee) to stay with
Mrs. Hadley while they were in Philadelphia. Recalling the pleasure and
the convenience of a similar visit the preceding summer, when she was
buying equipment for the tea-room, she accepted the invitation
gratefully for herself and her companions.
“I’m so glad I’m a member of this committee,” remarked Lily as their
train pulled into Philadelphia; “so that we will have this week
together. For I think it is going to be lots of fun.”
“If it’s anything like last year it will,” returned Marjorie.
“Ah, but remember that we had the boys then to make things lively,”
observed Alice.
“Well, we have them now. Aren’t we staying at John’s home—and isn’t my
brother Jack working right here in Philadelphia—and ready to help us at
any minute? And—” Marjorie glanced slyly at Lily—“I dare say Lil might
be able to locate Dick Roberts if we needed him!”
“It’s time to get our gloves on!” was all the reply her jest drew from
Lily. “We’re slowing up already.”
Five minutes later the girls were seated in John Hadley’s Ford, driving
through the city to the suburbs where his mother’s home was located.
Marjorie as usual was in high spirits, but again John experienced that
intangible sensation of jealousy because her happiness seemed to be
caused rather by her bright expectations than by his mere presence.
While she was asking him about the new car, he suddenly sighed audibly;
somehow he felt that as long as the Girl Scouts continued to plan these
novel undertakings, he would never hold anything but second place in
Marjorie’s interest. The girl noticed the sigh, and asked him whether
she were boring him.
“Of course not!” he declared emphatically. “As if you ever could—”
“Then what is it?” she asked sympathetically.
“Only that I wish that I were a Girl Scout—to merit more of your
attention.”
Marjorie laughed merrily; she did not believe that the young man was in
earnest.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she persisted. “Has the car come yet?”
“Yes; it’s in our garage.”
“Oh, goody! Drive fast then, John. It seems as if I can’t wait a minute
to see it!”
Obedient to her command he put on all his power, in defiance of the
speed laws in the city, and reached home in an incredibly short time for
a Ford. Marjorie waited only to pay her respects to Mrs. Hadley; then
without even removing her hat, she followed John’s machine out to the
garage. There she found the new possession, shining and bright and
handsome with its fresh paint and polished metal.
“Let’s get in and drive it immediately!” she cried. “I think it’s the
most beautiful car I ever saw!”
“Not the most beautiful,” corrected Lily. “At least I wouldn’t admit it
could compare with my Rolls-Royce—”
“Or my Ford!” put in John, and the girls all laughed.
“It will be great to drive into town every day to do our shopping,”
remarked Alice. “Won’t we feel grand—?”
“I’m afraid that won’t be very satisfactory,” said John. “On account of
the parking rules. You can’t leave a machine alone, you know; you would
have to put it into a garage.”
“We can easily do that,” remarked Alice, airily. “Money is scarcely a
consideration with us now!”
“Doesn’t that sound fine?” laughed Marjorie. “I guess it’s the first
time in our lives that we were ever able to say that.”
“And probably the last time,” added Lily. “Unless some of us marry those
rich heirs of your aunt, Alice!”
John glanced up apprehensively at this suggestion.
“What’s this about rich heirs?” he asked, with so much concern that all
three of the girls burst into laughter.
“You’ll probably never see Marjorie again!” teased Alice. “When we meet
these two cousins of mine who are destined to inherit all of Aunt
Emeline’s money, Marj will just fall for them. And of course they’ll
fall for her!”
“Oh, of course!” said Marjorie, sarcastically.
“Maybe some of us fellows had better take the trip in my tin Lizzie
after all,” observed John.
“Nothing doing!” protested Marjorie, emphatically. “We’d be sure to
break our rule not to accept help from men along the way. And then we’d
forfeit our trip, and our reward at the end, too.”
“Well, I hope you don’t have any accidents along the way,” said John.
“Though I do hate to think of you girls all by yourselves, so far away!”
“Oh, you needn’t worry,” Alice reassured him. “Don’t forget we’re not
just ordinary girls. We’re Girl Scouts!”
By dint of much persuasion, Marjorie was induced to leave the garage and
go into the house. Here she found new sources of interest; Mrs. Hadley
had collected catalogues of sporting goods and books of advice upon
motoring and crossing the country, and had piled them all upon the table
in the living-room. The girls literally dived for them as soon as they
realized what they were.
“Of course we’ll need tents,” said Marjorie, turning immediately to the
fascinating displays that were shown by the various dealers represented
in the catalogues.
“And look at these cunning little folding stoves!” cried Lily, pointing
to an illustration that captured her eye.
“Don’t forget dishes!” put in Alice. “They ought to be tin or aluminum—”
“You better carry a revolver apiece,” cautioned John.
“I don’t know about that,” remarked his mother. “The books and articles
that I have read on the subject say that it is not necessary to carry
that sort of protection. There is usually an unfailing courtesy to be
found along the road, particularly in the west.”
“But we have to go through the east to get to the west,” sighed Lily;
“and it will be just our luck to encounter all sorts of
obstacles—ghosts, or bootleggers, or bandits—just because we want so
desperately to get there safely.”
“But that only makes it so much more fun!” returned Marjorie.
“Yes, I know you love danger, Marj. But one day you’ll love it too much.
Sometimes it seems as if you almost court difficulties.”
“Still, we always gain by them in the end!” she replied, triumphantly.
“I’m more concerned about the little troubles—something going wrong with
the car, for instance,” said Alice. “And I’m so afraid we’ll some of us
be weak, and accept help, and—”
“And be sent home like bad children!” supplied Marjorie.
“Wouldn’t it be funny,” observed John, “if you would come home one by
one until only Alice was left to return the car to her aunt! I’m afraid
that I would just have to laugh!”
“Well, if you did, you never need come around us again!” snapped
Marjorie. “Girl Scouts wouldn’t want to see you—”
“Then I promise to shed tears!” interrupted the young man, hastily.
“However, nothing like that is going to happen,” said Marjorie,
conclusively. “We’re going across the continent with flying colors, as
all Girl Scouts could, if they had the chance. It’s the opportunity of a
life-time!”
The girls turned again to their catalogues, and made long lists of
articles, stopping every few minutes to discuss flash-lights,
spare-tires, khaki breeches, in fact anything that came into their minds
or to their notice. Alice’s aunt had told them that she would stand the
expenditures for the equipment, and they were only afraid that they
would buy more than they could comfortably carry.
Nor did this danger grow any less during the next few days when they
actually beheld the things themselves in the stores. Alice and Lily both
wanted to spend lavishly; it was Marjorie who laid the restraining hand
upon them.
At the end of three days their purchasing was completed; there yet
remained the more difficult task of mapping out the trip. Authorities
seemed generally to recommend the Lincoln Highway as a good route across
the continent, so the girls were glad that their benefactor had
stipulated this road.
They planned to start from Philadelphia on the fifteenth of June, aiming
to reach their destination by the first of August.
“Provided we travelled one hundred miles a day, which really is not a
tiring distance, we ought to be able to make the trip in thirty days,”
Marjorie estimated. “And that will give us fifteen days surplus.”
“We can surely afford three days at Mae’s,” announced Lily. “And perhaps
we could visit some other school or college friends along the way.”
But Marjorie shook her head decidedly.
“No,” she said; “I am willing to visit Mae, but nobody else. We shall
need every one of those twelve remaining days. Suppose we have to stop
for repairs, or get lost, or are held up by a bad storm—”
“That will do, Calamity Jane!” exclaimed Alice, putting her hand over
Marjorie’s mouth. “We don’t expect any misfortunes at all!”
“No, we don’t expect them, but we don’t want to lose our cars just
because we didn’t allow enough time.”
“Marj!” exclaimed John, suddenly. “I have it! If you get in trouble,
wire for us, and we’ll put on skirts! We used that disguise effectively
last year—why not now?”
The girl gazed at him mournfully.
“Too bad, John, but it couldn’t be done! Unfortunately we’ll be on our
honor now, and we’d know you were boys. Unless—” she smiled at the
idea—“unless you were clever enough to deceive us!”
“Nobody’s clever enough to deceive you, Marjorie! Not that I want to,
but—”
“Speaking of deception,” interrupted Alice, “I have been wondering how
my aunt is going to be sure that we do live up to her conditions. She
doesn’t know us, or anything about our characters.”
“Maybe she wrote to college for references,” suggested Marjorie. “Or
maybe she knows the high standards of all Girl Scouts.”
“Let us hope so!” said John. “But perhaps she knows about Alice, and
judges you all from her.”
“Anyhow,” concluded Marjorie, “we’ll send her a detailed plan of our
trip, so she can check us up if she wants to. Then we’ll go ahead, with
the motto of ‘do or die’!”