THE HALLOWE'EN PARTY
The meeting which Miss Allen had begun with such formality ended in a
turmoil. Everyone jumped up excitedly at the news of Frieda's
disappearance and at the interpretation which Ruth gave to the
occurrence.
For all the girls in the school--even those who were not Scouts--knew
about Frieda Hammer. They were aware, too, of the fact that the Japanese
fête had been given to raise money to support her, and it was common
knowledge that over a hundred dollars had been cleared.
But only the Scouts themselves knew the details: that, after five weeks'
board had been paid in advance, Frieda had been given fifteen dollars,
which she was to use for her ticket home on Thanksgiving. This idea had
been Marjorie's; she wanted by some such outward sign to testify to the
girl that the Scouts trusted her. Miss Phillips, Ruth, and one or two
others had opposed the plan, but Marjorie's enthusiasm had finally
carried it.
So now Marjorie had this double tragedy to face: she had not only lost
her canoe, but her confidence had been betrayed. And Ruth, who had
prophesied something of the sort from the first, had triumphed!
Miss Phillips was too wise to call a Scout meeting immediately; she
wanted to give the discussion a chance to simmer down. Besides this, she
felt deeply for Marjorie. The girl had encountered a terrible
disappointment; older and more experienced people than Marjorie had
broken down under parallel circumstances. Miss Phillips wanted to give
her a good chance to cry; after that, she depended upon Lily's good
sense and tact to console her.
Accordingly, nothing was done until the next night, when Miss Phillips
called the Scouts to a meeting.
The subject was hardly mentioned before Ruth Henry sprang to her feet.
"Captain," she began, talking rather fast, for she had in her own mind a
number of points that she wished to make, "we all have to admit that we
have failed. The idea--social service, Good Turn, whatever you want to
call it--is splendid; but the person we selected, unworthy. Let's forget
all about it; for we can't get back Marjorie's canoe. It's probably sold
by now.
"Well, this is my suggestion: hold our bazaar just as we have planned,
and use the money, first to buy Marjorie a new canoe, and then to bring
a nice Christmas to some needy family, in the village, with lots of
children."
"Hurray! Good for you, Ruth!" cried several of the girls impulsively
when she sat down.
Amid their shouts, however, Marjorie stumbled to her feet. She looked
pale, as if she had slept little the previous night; and her eyes bore
the traces of tears. But outwardly she was calm.
"It is awfully good of Ruth," she said, seriously, "but I really
wouldn't want the troop to replace my canoe. I won't need it much longer
this fall, and perhaps father will give me one for my next birthday. And
I like Ruth's suggestion about the poor family. But"--she lowered her
voice and pronounced each word slowly and very distinctly--"is the troop
going to accept this defeat as final?"
"You mean, Marjorie, that you would like to give Frieda another chance?"
asked the Captain.
"Yes." The word was little more than a whisper.
Miss Phillips said nothing; she was simply astounded at the girl's
generosity. Frieda Hammer had stolen Marjorie's dearest possession, and
yet the latter was ready to forgive her!
But Ruth interpreted Marjorie's attitude merely as the usual opposition
to her own suggestions.
"Then would you like to put a detective on the case?" she asked.
"No! A thousand times, no!" protested Marjorie, emphatically.
"Then what could we do to trace her?"
"I could at least telegraph to her mother, with a prepaid reply," put in
Miss Phillips.
"Oh, do--please do!" begged Marjorie; and the affair rested at that.
"Now," said Ethel, anxious to change the subject, "let's talk about our
Hallowe'en party. It's only a little over a week off!"
The tone of the meeting changed from that of serious-minded discussion
of a theft and its treatment, to care-free chatter about an evening of
fun. Even Marjorie put aside her trouble for the time and entered
heartily into the preparations.
The Hallowe'en party was to be the last event of the Scout troop as it
now stood. The day following--November first--the reports would be
issued, and the new Scouts would officially join the troop at the next
meeting. This would necessitate new divisions into the patrols,
re-elections, etc.
The fifteen girls who now belonged to Pansy troop felt especially close
together. All, except Helen Stewart and Anna Cane, had lived side by
side at camp, eaten at the same table, gathered around the same camp
fire at night, been comrades on many hikes, and competed in the contest
which Marjorie had so unexpectedly won. They wanted their troop to grow,
and to take in new girls, especially if a troop was to be established
at the rival seminary: but they were glad to be allowed this party for
themselves.
The day after the Scout meeting, Miss Phillips sent a telegram to Frieda
Hammer's mother, and received the following reply:
"No signs of Frieda. Is she kidnapped?--M. Hammer."
Marjorie's last hopes vanished as she read the telegram. There was
nothing to be done; she must be content to give up her dream. Miss
Phillips suggested that the girl might come back again after her money
was all spent; upon this meager supposition Marjorie fastened her
expectations.
In the meantime, preparations for the Hallowe'en party were in full
swing. Miss Phillips had suggested that each girl dress to represent a
character in history.
"Choose a man or a woman, whichever you please," she told them; "but
don't try to get your parents to send you costumes! Make them
yourselves, for they needn't be too elaborate. Then we can guess which
one each character represents, as well as the identity of the girl who
wears the costume."
The gymnasium was decorated with corn stalks and autumn leaves, and here
and there against the walls stood stuffed paper witches, to remind the
guests that it was really Hallowe'en. Weird, soft music was coming from
the victrola to remind one that ghosts were abroad that night.
George and Martha Washington, with powdered hair and silver buckled
shoes were the first guests to be greeted by the committee. Soon after
them came Pocohontas, and a Quaker who was intended to be Elizabeth Fry,
but who might have represented almost any member of the Society of
Friends.
Marjorie and Lily came as John Alden and Priscilla--proud because they
were on time for once, and enjoying the fun of acting the part of
lovers.
"It reminds me of the masquerade at camp," whispered Marjorie;
"remember?"
"Yes, wasn't that ridiculous? But you know this is really clever. Oh,
look at these!"
Eight masqueraders, all dressed as women and representing various
characters from Queen Elizabeth to Florence Nightingale, came in,
walking rather awkwardly, as if hampered by their skirts.
"But who can they be?"
"There are too many of them!" laughed Lily; "wouldn't you say that there
were more than fifteen of us here now?"
Lily made an effort to count, but the guests moved so constantly that
the act was almost impossible. However, when seven more masqueraders
arrived in a group, the girls' suspicions were confirmed. Miss Phillips
must have invited outsiders! Perhaps she even knew the marks, and from
them was able to ascertain which girls would be Girl Scouts, and
wishing to surprise the troop, had secretly invited them.
The riddle was too much for them; Lily gave it up, and returned to the
fun of acting the part of lover to Marjorie. She was just putting her
arm affectionately about her room-mate, when the trained nurse, who was
supposed to represent Florence Nightingale, approached, and, in a very
squeaky, obviously disguised voice, said,
"I'm jealous, young man. Won't you please kiss me?"
Lily laughingly leaned toward the intruder and was about to grant the
request, when her eyes fell upon the nurse's hand. It could not belong
to a girl!
"Who are you?" she demanded indignantly.
"Florence Nightingale!"
Lily stamped her foot impatiently. "No, I mean in real life!"
The other raised the mask obediently, and to the girls' astonishment,
revealed himself as Dick Roberts!
"The Boy Scouts!" cried Lily, out loud, and the news spread like wild
fire.
The guessing began, and the votes were taken. After a few moments, the
prize was awarded to General Pershing--a girl, evidently--who was
dressed in a real Army uniform, adorned with many medals and campaign
bars. Across the front, on a white ribbon, she wore, to the amusement of
everyone, these letters:
"COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF!"
That, and her mustache, made a mistake impossible.
But no one guessed her identity, until Marjorie noticing her hands,
exclaimed,
"Ruth Henry!" and the victor laughingly unmasked.
It was another triumph for Ruth!
Miss Phillips called for the boys to volunteer to carry in the tubs of
water filled with apples, and as Marjorie watched the proceeding a
homesick feeling stole over her. John Hadley was no longer there!
She glanced at Lily, radiant with the excitement and pleasure, and
decided that she, too, would find some boy to be interested in. Turning
around at the mention of her own name, she found David Conner waiting to
put her name on his dance program.
The Scouts played games and danced until ten o'clock, and then Miss
Phillips announced that refreshments were ready in the basement.
"The basement!" repeated Frances, in amazement. "Do you mean that,
Captain?"
"Yes; and we are going to reach it through the underground connection
between the gym and the main building," explained Miss Phillips; "so we
shall walk over to the main hall and go down the cellar and then follow
single file through this dark passage to the basement. You may see
something weird!"
"Who's going to lead?" asked Ruth, her eyes shining with excitement.
"We'll draw lots!"
And, by the irony of chance, the part fell to Doris Sands, the most
timid girl in the troop.
"Oh, Captain, I'll die of fright!" she protested.
"It's only play, Doris! You won't mind."
Laughing and chatting gaily they strolled in groups across the driveway
to the main building; then down the narrow cellar steps at the rear of
the hall, and across the cellar to a dark passage.
"Here we are!" announced Miss Phillips, calling everyone to a halt. "Now
get in single file."
Doris went first, with Roger Harris behind; then came Ruth, Jack
Wilkinson, Marjorie, and Lily--all eager for the adventure. Forming a
long chain with their right hands on the shoulders in front, they
advanced cautiously. After the first few steps, the passage became
lower, and pitch-black; they had to bend down and feel their way step by
step as they went.
"Oh!" shrieked Doris, stopping suddenly. "Look! Ugh!"
Roger and Ruth, peering around her shoulder, caught sight of a pair of
gleaming eyes piercing through the darkness.
"It's a cat!" cried Roger, reassuringly. "But how in the world did you
succeed in keeping it there?"
"I tied a chicken-bone to a stone," answered Miss Phillips. "And nothing
will induce pussy to leave."
Frightened by the voices, the cat fled immediately, and the procession
continued. In a minute or two, Doris caught sight of a ghost. But this
time she was not really frightened.
"I know it's only a dummy!" she said. "I'm not afraid any more!"
But when the ghost actually began to stretch out its arms and move
towards her, Doris admitted that she was scared, and clung, trembling,
to Roger. For the hands of the ghost were the bony structures of a human
skeleton, and its head was an empty skull!
"That's our lab skeleton, I'll bet!" exclaimed Roger. "But who's moving
it?"
"I am!" laughed David Conner, throwing off his disguise.
With another yard, light was visible ahead, and the basement of the
gymnasium came into view. Doris breathed a sigh of relief.
"It's nice to stand up straight again, isn't it?" remarked Marjorie, as
the whole party reached the less cramped quarters. "But that was a great
idea, Captain!"
"Wouldn't it make a jolly place to haze freshmen?" commented Ruth, who
never grew tired of playing tricks.
"Refreshments are ready!" announced the Captain. "Look for your
place-cards."
The basement was so cleverly camouflaged and the table so charmingly
decorated that the effect could not have been better in the most
elaborate dining hall. Corn-stalks, crêpe-paper, candles, and favors
worked wonders with the usually ugly room.
It seemed, too as if there were everything imaginable to
eat--sandwiches, doughnuts, cider, apples, nuts, and candy--indeed,
Marjorie regretted that she must eat carefully, for she was still in
training.
Seated with David Conner next to her on one side and Dick Roberts on the
other, she had not a single dull moment in which to regret the absence
of John Hadley. All too soon the party came to an end.
"If only our good turns were as successful as our good times," remarked
Marjorie, as she and Lily made their way to their room, "Pansy troop
would be wonderful!"
"You're worrying about Frieda Hammer again," remonstrated Lily. "Do try
to forget her!"
"I almost wish I could!" replied the other, with a sigh.