Girl Scout troop!"

"I will make it!" she replied resolutely; and Marjorie believed her.

"Promise to come to see me every day," urged Marjorie, as Alice turned to leave her at the door of her room.

"I'd love to! But you'll get tired of me, I'm afraid."

"No, I won't! And remember—you're my freshman!"

"And it all goes to prove," she thought as she closed the door of her room, "that Ruth may block my plans, but she can't influence the real me! And I've really won, after all!"

CHAPTER IV

THE FIRST SCOUT MEETING

If the members of Pansy troop could have consulted their own wishes, they would have held a Scout meeting as soon as all the girls had arrived at school. But Miss Phillips had declared that such a thing was impossible; there were too many other matters to attend to.

School had opened on Thursday, and the first real event outside of the regular program had been the sophomore reception. It was not until over a week afterward, on Friday evening, that the Girl Scouts met for the first time.

The meeting was scheduled for seven-thirty, but by a quarter after the hour, everyone of the fifteen girls had arrived.

Every Scout wore her uniform; as each one entered the little room which had been set aside by Miss Allen for the troop, she saluted the Captain, who sat at a desk in the front. It seemed like old times; only the two seniors, who had been graduated, were missing. The present members could not help thinking of them.

"Too bad we can't stay at Miss Allen's forever," remarked Marjorie; "it seems awful to think we had to lose two Scouts."

"But we'll get more," observed Ruth, optimistically, who had never been a girl of deep friendships.

"And next year Edith and Helen will be gone," continued Marjorie—"and the others."

For an instant she came face to face with the great fact that has staggered the individual since the beginning of civilization—the realization of the ceaseless passage of time. Marjorie reflected, with a certain sense of sadness, that she too must graduate, and leave the school and the Scout troop to younger girls. The thought sobered her; it was with an effort that she turned her attention to the Captain, as she called the Scouts to order.

"We shall begin a trifle early," explained Miss Phillips, "since everybody is here, for there is a great deal to talk about. Now—Troop, Attention!"

The usual opening ceremony was performed, together with the recitation of the Scout laws and pledge. It was so familiar to them all that they hardly thought of the words as they repeated them; to Marjorie, however, they were impressive, for she had not been a member of the troop so long as the other girls.

The treasurer made her statement, and the dues were collected. As there were no committees to report, the Captain proceeded immediately to "old business."

"I suppose you are all eager to hear about our troop's Good Turn," she began, "and I am very glad to be able to tell you something favorable. But first, for the benefit of the girls who were not at camp, let me explain that the troop met and decided to send a poor, ignorant, badly brought-up country girl to public school in this town, and to pay her board and buy her clothing all year. Her name is Frieda Hammer. And, as you all know, although her mother promised to send her the day before school opened, she did not arrive. I have since learned that she kept her at home because the baby was sick, but intends to send her this Saturday."

Marjorie's eyes shone. Their plan was to succeed after all! Ruth had been mistaken; when Frieda began to develop and make progress, perhaps Ruth would be sorry for the distrustful attitude she had taken! And think what it would mean to Frieda—a girl of her own age! Now she would have pretty clothes that the Scouts would buy her, live in a lovely home in the village, where the Scouts would pay her board, and go to the public school. She would meet nice girls, develop friendships, and have the opportunity to study and prepare herself to make something worth while of her life. She would be just like Cinderella—and the Scouts would be the fairy godmother!

"But where shall we get the money, Captain?" demanded Ruth. She made no attempt to conceal her disapproval of the project; she would have preferred to direct the troop's attention to earning money for the following summer's outing.

"That is what we must talk about this evening," replied Miss Phillips. "But in the meantime, we have twenty-six dollars in the treasury. Mrs. Johnson, in the village, tells me she will board Frieda for the special rate of six dollars a week—she's interested in her, too, and would like to help us—so what would you all say to paying twelve dollars in advance for board, and spending the other fourteen on some clothing?"

"Great! Splendid!" cried the girls.

"But how about our Hallowe'en party!" pouted Ruth. "Aren't we going to have any more good times ourselves?" Then, noticing the spirit of antagonism that her remark had aroused, she hastened to add, "I wouldn't mind if I thought Frieda would appreciate it. But I'll bet she won't! She'll steal again, just like she did at camp!"

Miss Phillips held up her hand to caution Ruth not to go any farther; and Frances Wright, who, next to Marjorie, had been most interested in the girl from the start, protested vehemently.

"Ruth!" she cried, disdainfully, "you surely don't think that!"

"Yes, she does!" exclaimed Marjorie impulsively. "She doesn't trust——"

"Girls!" remonstrated the Captain, rising from the chair to take command of the situation. "We will have no more discussion about the matter. We shall simply vote on the motion—if someone will be kind enough to make one—to spend the twenty-six dollars that we have in the treasury on board and clothing for Frieda Hammer."

The motion was made and carried by an overwhelming majority, and Miss Phillips asked Frances Wright to accompany her to the city the following Saturday to meet the girl when she should arrive.

"Now we must discuss other ways to raise money," continued the Captain. "Several of the girls have suggested a Christmas bazaar. This I consider a splendid plan, so if you are all in favor of it, we shall start in making things for it immediately. But, of course, we cannot hold that until December, and we shall need money before then. So has anyone else a proposal?"

The resourceful Marjorie arose to her feet. After giving the customary salute, she began:

"The other day, when I was out in my canoe on the lake, it occurred to me how lovely it must be there at night. I kept wishing we could have some sort of party on the water, and then the idea came to me to have a sort of Japanese fête, and charge admission. We could hire Japanese lanterns, and put up two or three attractive booths to sell refreshments, and I could sell rides in my canoe—maybe we could hire two or three extra boats for the occasion—and maybe tell fortunes, or something like that. Do you suppose," she concluded, "that we could get Miss Allen's permission?"

Miss Phillips did not need to ask for an expression of opinion; she could read from the Scouts' faces their approval of the plan. As a mere matter of form, she called for a vote upon the question, and when the suggestion was unanimously adopted, a date was selected, and Marjorie herself appointed chairman of the committee.

"And now," said the Captain, "I have a lovely