Front matter (continued 2)

Now upon its door had been nailed an imposing and elaborately decorated sign which read: "Eagles' Eyrie." And beneath that, emphasizing its warning with a skull and crossbones, was another sign: "No Admittance."

"Three knocks and then a quick one is the signal," explained Pat mysteriously; "and you and Sheila and Peggy and Keineth and True Scott are the only ones that will know it--except, of course, Ren and me!"

Pat was unlocking the door as she spoke. She threw it open proudly. "This isn't going to be any silly club!" she explained. "Everyone that comes here must work! That desk over there is mine and Renée has this table because she can paint on it and the light's good. And that big table is for the other girls, only we have to keep it against the wall 'cause one leg's off!"

A few hours' work had utterly transformed the room and had removed all traces of the patient Archer sisters and their livelihood. The floor, very dusty in spots, was covered with strips of an old hall carpeting which, when hardwood floors had been laid, had been stored away. Pat had also resurrected from the storeroom the antiquated desk and tables and a dilapidated assortment of chairs. Over one of these, to add a note of elegance to the room, she had thrown an old Bagdad lounge cover and across the windows the girls had hung pieces of faded velour, replaced a few years before in the living rooms below. The air was heavy with the smell of camphor and dust; the three-legged table had a pathetically helpless look, a corner of the wall was stained from a leak in the roof, but to Pat and Renée it was an inspiring retreat!

"My account books are there in my desk, and I'll have you know, Aunt Pen, that 'LaDue and Everett' have gotten orders for ten bushels of apples which wasn't bad for one afternoon's work and for girls, too!" declared Pat.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Aunt Pen's voice was as enthusiastic as that of the junior member of the firm. "I have an order for LaDue and Everett! Miss Higgins will take twelve of the Christmas cards! I showed her one this morning. She is going to put them on sale in her tea room. She may order more! You must decide as to your prices, Renée."

Renée was too delighted to answer. Pat fairly bubbled with excitement. She caught Aunt Pen and Renée in a whirling step that almost completely demolished an ancient chair that lay in her mad path.

"Hurrah for the Eagles' Eyrie! And won't we just have fun? You, know"--she quieted suddenly--"the day mother and Celia went away I was awfully miserable and I wrote the silliest things in my diary! But that was before I found Renée! And now we've got Sheila and you and our jolly school and our business and I'm glad's can be they left me home and I didn't go back to Prindle's!"

Aunt Pen, for lack of breath and a chair had sunk down upon the floor. She looked up laughing.

"I'd hate to have to analyze that sentence of yours, Patsy! But even if your English is constructed badly your heart is gold and I say--good luck to you and your Eagles' Eyrie!"

CHAPTER IX

THE NEW LODGER

"Whatever in the world are all those whistles blowing for?" asked Pat, springing from her bed and running to her window. "Something's happening--I know!"

The girls listened. The early morning air was filled with incessant sound; the shriek of sirens, shriller blasts, the heavy tones of boats' whistles from the harbor, intoning bells.

"It makes you shiver!"

"Let's dress quickly!" Pat reached out for a stocking. "Maybe it's peace!" she declared suddenly.

"Oh-h!" was all Renée answered, but there was a world of meaning in the single sound. "Listen! There are more bells! Aren't they beautiful? Perhaps they are ringing all over the world."

Downstairs they found everyone wildly excited. Even Jasper, who had not been over from England for so many years that he had forgotten his relatives there, was talking volubly to Aunt Pen and passing her sugar for her boiled egg!

"What is it, Aunt Pen?" cried Pat and Renée in one voice.

"My dears--the fighting has stopped--at last!" Mr. Everett answered. He seemed too moved to say more.

"I don't know whether I feel more like praying or shouting," laughed Aunt Pen with two tears rolling down her cheeks.

From the extra which Jasper had brought in Mr. Everett read to them all the terms of the armistice to which Germany had agreed. Melodia and Maggie listened from the door.

"I feel all queer inside!" announced Pat.

Renée's breakfast lay before her, untouched. Aunt Pen, seeing the real distress on the child's face, divined the ache that lay in her heart. So that when Renée, unable to control herself longer, rushed toward the door she felt two quick arms fold about her and draw her close to a friendly shoulder.

"Dearie, tell us! Don't grieve by yourself!"

Then poor Renée buried her face; it was several moments before she could speak.

"I wish I was--there! Home, I mean--poor Susette is old--and has--only Gabriel! We worked so hard--we made a flag, Susette and I, and we tried to make it just like your Stars and Stripes; we put in the thirteen bars, 'cause I had counted--but not--nearly--enough stars! We'd promised Emile when peace came--he said that the Germans would be beaten--we'd hang it from the corner of the roof, 'long side of Gabriel's old French flag! And"--the head went back against Penelope's shoulder--"I'm 'fraid Susette--will forget--and it--will not--be there!"

"She will remember, Renée, because right at this moment I know her heart and her mind are full of thoughts of you, just as you are homesick for her and the little cottage!"

Mr. Everett, who had been deeply moved by Renée's story, interposed some practical comfort.

"Renée, will you let me--by way of celebrating this day--send a money order to Susette in your name? Remember, child, how little we have suffered as compared to you and Susette and countless others--over there! You shall write her a little letter to go with it!"

"Oh, I will like that! And then Susette will surely know that I am with kind, generous friends!" The child's eyes were bright again. "And I will remind her where we put the flag and she can hang it out, for I think now there will be flags flying in France for a long time!"

"This must, of course, be a holiday," declared Aunt Pen.

"And let's just do things we've never done before," cried Pat.

At that moment Mr. Everett was called to the telephone. He returned greatly excited.

"Burns telephones from the Works that the men are forming a monster parade! They've got a band and helped themselves to every flag in the place! The city's gone mad! I must hurry away. Take the girls downtown! This November eleventh must be a day we will never forget--as long as we live!"

And as he hurried off he said to Renée in parting:

"Have that letter ready, my dear, and I will send the money order home at noon-time."

The girls rushed away to put on their wraps.

"May we stop for Sheila?" called Pat over the banister.

"Of course!" assented Penelope, glad that Pat wanted to share all her joys with her friends.

By the time they reached the downtown section the walks were thronged with people and the streets had been cleared of traffic for the marching hosts. The girls found a place on the curb. It seemed to them as though everyone had gone mad all at once and that they were as mad as anyone else! At every corner processions were forming, headed by any sort of a makeshift band and where not even a drum could be commandeered, tin pans and pails had been pressed into service! And through it all the incessant, deafening tumult of whistles!

Everyone was smiling! The sun had burst through the accumulated clouds of long years of war!

A group of men and girls from a shipyard marched by. Some of them were drawing a huckster's wagon they had seized and upon its load of potatoes and apples and cabbages they had placed a big ship's bell! One of their number rode on the wagon and with a huge sledge pounded the bell at regular intervals. They were all carrying flags, big and small, and one grimy man had a baby in his arms! The crowd on the curb cheered wildly and the man held the baby high in the air!

The marchers had to halt and while the man with the bell rested, they sang the Star Spangled Banner. Others took it up--it was carried down block after block, a rising wave of sound, a chorus of triumph! Pat and Sheila and Renée sang lustily and as they sang Pat felt her hand suddenly caught in a warm, tight clasp! It was her neighbor, a little bent woman with the dark eyes of the Italian race and a worn shawl over her head and shoulders. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but through them she was smiling like the others! Pat was too young to guess the tragedy of sacrifice that might lie behind those tears, but she was not too young to sense the common joy and thankfulness and privilege they shared! So she squeezed the worn fingers and smiled back into the little old woman's face!

"Here come the men from the Works!" cried Aunt Pen, standing on tiptoe to look over the crowd. The shipbuilders had passed on. Along surged the approaching host, fifteen thousand strong, men and women! They had stripped the works of flags and carried them now high in the air with arms that could not tire! The discordant blasts of their band was heavenly music to their ears! Old men stepped along like boys; scattered through the lines were hundreds of girls in their working overalls and caps.

Renée was puzzled. These men, many of them, did not look like the Americans she had seen! One of them shouted out in a strange tongue, but he carried a banner that said "We are for the U.S.A." Perhaps, like herself, he had come to America for refuge and was giving now of his strength and loyalty to the mother country he had sought.

"Can't we march, too, Aunt Pen?" cried Pat.

Some one from the lines shouted to them to come in! They made a place in the ranks for them and even the little old woman with the shawl joined the procession. A voice from behind hailed them and Pat saw her father marching with his men.

"Could a day be more wonderful? But I am as hungry as a bear," declared Pat at luncheon. "And, oh joy, chicken and biscuits! What shall we do this afternoon, Aunt Pen?"

"Dear me, Pat, do you think as fast as you talk? For the sake of your digestion I shall keep the plans for this afternoon a secret until you are through luncheon! But it is going to be something you'll just love!" and Aunt Pen imitated perfectly Pat's characteristically enthusiastic tone.

"Aunt Pen, I'll choke if you don't tell even a teeny word! Let us guess!"

But Aunt Pen was firm, and not until the last crumb of luncheon had been eaten would she say one word!

Then: "Your father says we may all go through the Works!"

"All--Sheila and Keineth and Peggy?"

"Yes. And we will start in half an hour. That will give Renée a chance to write her letter to Susette." For Renée had found on her plate an envelope containing a money order for one hundred dollars!

Because of the day's celebration the Works were almost deserted and for the first time in months the great wheels were still and the furnaces smouldering. Mr. Everett met the girls and took them himself from building to building, explaining carefully every process of manufacture. Peggy and Sheila were intent listeners; Keineth, more imaginative than the others, thought that the wheels were like great giants, harmless now as they slumbered! And Renée loved the empty, dusty spaces, the gleaming metals of the engines and dull glow of the furnaces! Pat's most lasting impression was pride that her father should know so much!

Sheila became particularly absorbed in the pattern shop. She had lingered behind the others to examine more closely a series of beltings. Of an inquiring and inventive mind, she was always deeply interested in the putting together of any piece of mechanism. Suddenly she realized that she was alone and hurried out of the building to overtake the others. They had gone on through a long, enclosed alleyway to the main shop. She could still hear Mr. Everett's voice.

As she rushed through the passage she ran headlong into a man who appeared suddenly from a doorway letting into the passage. He was as startled as she! "Du verdamte dumkopf!" he snarled, under his breath, hurrying on. Sheila stood motionless.

"That was German!" she thought. She turned quickly. The man was disappearing at the end of the passage. And in a flash she recognized him as her mother's new lodger!

Pat's voice came to her from the other direction.

"Shei-la! Come along!"

A multitude of thoughts were whirling in Sheila's head! She did not hear one word of the light chatter about her, for the exploring party had ended now in Mr. Everett's office. That man had certainly cursed in German and there had been an evil look in his face; she had frightened him so that he had lost control of himself for an instant! And what could he have been doing there--like that--when all the other men were off celebrating?

Down deep in her heart a voice told her that she ought to tell Mr. Everett immediately! But another voice warned her that that would surely mean the man would be discharged and her mother would lose her lodger! The back room would be empty again--and the music! She had begun her lessons and Miss Sheehan had said she "was learning quickly!" It had been a precious dream come true--

She listened to the second voice--it was very coaxing! "Perhaps he is a German who has become a loyal citizen of the United States," it told her, and that sounded very reasonable! She had startled him and he had spoken in the old, forgotten language! And the evil look she had caught in his eyes might have been imagined--for she had been startled, too! Besides, had the fighting not ended this very day? What harm could an enemy do now! If she told Mr. Everett and he laughed she would feel very foolish! Mr. Everett was placing them in the automobile and instructing Watkins to take them to Huyler's where they would have chocolate and cakes to end the great day. She could not tell him now!

But the doubt in her heart made her sweets taste bitter, and while the others chattered merrily Sheila sat silent and absorbed. She had listened within herself to the pleasanter voice, but in her ears still rang that muttered "Du verdamte dumkopf," and she was haunted by the gleam of evil eyes.

CHAPTER X

A SCOUT'S HONOR

That night Sheila dreamed all the great wheels she had seen in the Everett Works were rolling down the street after her and, though she ran as fast as she could, they advanced more quickly and came nearer and nearer; then they began to roar and to wave arms of hot metal towards her! The nearest reached out and caught at her with fiery fingers and just as she felt them close about her, she wakened!

Paddy was barking furiously, running from her bed to the door and back, as though to implore her to come!

Her fingers clutched at the bedclothes--with terrified eyes she peered into the darkness of the room! It had been a dream--she was safe in her bed!

"Woof! Woof!" growled Paddy.

Sheila crept out of bed, scolding Paddy in whispers, that she might not waken her mother who slept in the next room. Barefooted she stole down the stairs to the kitchen, Paddy leaping on ahead of her. The kitchen was dark; it was a moment or two before Sheila's eyes could make out the familiar objects. Paddy growled and barked again! A sound outside startled Sheila so that she had to clap her hand over her mouth to still a scream! Then she realized it was the lodger going up the outside stairway! Each step creaked under his foot; she heard the door above close and a key turn in the lock!

But Paddy was not satisfied! He did not bark again, for Sheila had soundly rapped his nose, but he ran to the window, and placing his fore-paws on the sill, looked out and whined. Sheila, following him, peeped through the curtains. A light snow had covered the ground in the small backyard; it was still falling. Not an object was visible except the bare lilac bush in the sorrier.

"I s'pose it's a cat--you bad dog!" Sheila muttered crossly. "Come right upstairs, now, and be quiet!" So the two scampered back to Sheila's room and Sheila cuddled down under the bedclothes, pulling them well up over her face. Paddy jumped upon the bed and laid down very close to her feet and, though Sheila knew this was against the Quinn rules, she was grateful for his company and did not drive him away!

In the morning Sheila was not her cheerful self; she helped prepare the breakfast, clear it away and get the three small brothers ready for school in an abstracted manner. Her mother watched her start off herself with an anxious heart.

"Land o' goodness, what's got into my sweetness this morning?" she thought. "Never mind--if it's anything wrong she'll be telling her mother!"

Which was exactly what, at noon-time, Sheila ran all the way home from school to do. Not for a moment longer could she bear the self-reproach and doubt that was tormenting her! And her mother gave her the counsel she expected!

"You go just as straight to Mr. Everett as you can, dearie! And don't worry!"

Sheila found the Everett family in a state of intense excitement. She needed only to glance once at Mr. Everett's stern face to know that something terrible had happened! And with incredible instinct, born of remorse, something within her told her what it was! She stood quite still and looked from one face to another down the length of the table upon which the day's luncheon had been spread.

"Oh, Sheila, somebody has stolen some dreadfully important formulas from the Works----" began Pat.

"No--no--no!" cried Sheila, as though her protest must stop the truth! Then she realized that they were staring at her in amazement! She clutched the back of a chair and tried to speak but not a sound would come.

"It is true," explained Mr. Everett in a tired voice. "It must have been the work of a very clever band of spies! All three copies of the formula have been taken! Each one had been put in a place we considered absolutely safe! We had just completed them and were ready to turn them over for the examination of the government experts!"

"And think of it, Sheila, Daddy says that it was for an explosive so dreadfully powerful that just having the formula and knowing how to make it would help prevent wars! Isn't that what he said, Aunt Pen?" Pat was greatly excited.

"To keep the secret in our country will certainly help to prevent future wars! There is no doubt but that the theft is the work of German agents," Mr. Everett answered. "And I did not know that we had a man we could not trust!"

Then Sheila swallowed hard. As she began to speak she felt as though her voice was coming from a great way off--that it did not belong to her at all! Everything in the room began to whirl around her excepting Mr. Everett.

In broken words she told her little story. And at the end she burst out, tears choking her voice: "I just hate myself for not having told you right then and there!"

It seemed to Sheila that long minutes of silence followed her outburst and as though every face in the room was turned upon her in condemnation. Her own eyes were fixed on the rug at her feet. But presently Mr. Everett's voice answered with a hopeful ring it had not had before and, gaining courage, Sheila looked up to find Aunt Pen nodding in approval and Pat regarding her with open envy.

"My dear girl," exclaimed Mr. Everett, "I believe you've given us an important clue! I'll call up the secret service detectives and will ask you to repeat your story to them--if you will wait!" He quickly left the room as he spoke.

"Sheila Quinn, you're just like a real detective! Isn't it grand and exciting? I'd never have thought a thing about that awful man!" Pat cried.

And Aunt Pen was solicitous that Sheila should have some hot luncheon immediately!

From that moment on everything happened with exciting rapidity. Sheila repeated her story to the two detectives who came at Mr. Everett's call. It was too late to return to school, so, hurrying home, she went grimly about various little household tasks, constantly listening for a knock at the door, starting at every sound!

"Do you know, Sheila," her mother whispered, "I'm as nervous as can be! I'm sure I heard Mr. Marx go upstairs the front way! He's never done that before! I believe he just doesn't want a body to know he's in the house! Hark!" Holding hands tightly they listened; a soft pad-pad overhead made them certain someone was moving about in the room above.

"I wish they'd hurry and come and arrest him," Sheila groaned. And scarcely had the words left her lips when the front doorbell gave out its rusty clang.

Mrs. Quinn met three men at the door who briefly explained that they came with a warrant for the arrest of one Mr. John Marx who they thought might be found in her house. With a nodding of the head that set awry all sorts of little gray curls, Mrs. Quinn made it known that she was very certain the gentleman was at that moment right up in her back room! She started up the stairs with two of the men while the third lingered uncertainly in the hall below.

"Quick--come and watch these stairs outside," cried Sheila running to him. She led him back to the kitchen. They reached there just in time to hear the outside door above close quietly and quick steps on the rickety stairs. Not quick enough, though, for as Mr. John Marx opened the door at the foot of the stairs he faced the muzzle of a revolver!

Sheila, frightened and unnerved, shrank to a corner of the kitchen. She heard quick, angry voices, a sharp command, a click of metal as of a lock snapping shut! Her mother and the two other officers had come into the kitchen. Then the one man and his prisoner went away and the others returned to the room above to search its contents.

"Dear me, I feel almost as though we'd done something ourselves," sighed Mrs. Quinn, worn out with excitement. "And he was a nice appearing man, too, with always a pleasant word when he brought me the----" she stopped. For the first time it came to her that she had lost her lodger!

And as though the same thought tormented Sheila the girl dropped her work and went to the old piano. It had been tuned and polished and Mrs. Quinn had draped a linen and lace square over one end of it. Sheila sat down and slowly, with a lingering touch, ran her fingers up and down the scale. Then she rose abruptly and closed the cover over the keys with a resolute bang.

"It's not half the punishment I deserve--but I did want to learn!" and bursting into tears she, rushed off to her room to fight out by herself the disappointment she must face.

And as though the day had not brought enough to "just clean tucker one out," as poor Mrs. Quinn put it, that evening, after the boys had gone to bed, Mr. Everett and Pat came to the door! Mrs. Quinn's hospitable soul was greatly distressed that she could not invite her guest into the parlor--occupied now by old Mr. Judkins at twenty-five dollars a month--but Mr. Everett declared that he could not ask for a more comfortable chair than the old rocker nor for a more cosy room! With his usual tact he made Mrs. Quinn feel that they were old acquaintances.

He told them--keeping Pat's voice out of the story with difficulty--how the arrest of John Marx had led to the rounding up of the entire band; how they had been quickly proven to be Germans and paid agents of the German government and how--although as yet the formulas had not been found and their whereabouts remained a deep mystery, it must be only a short time before they would be discovered, as some of the best secret service men in the United States were working on the case!

Mr. Everett's face looked worn and worried. Nevertheless he spoke cheerfully, as though to relieve Sheila's concern.

"And now, my dear," he concluded, "you have helped us so much in this matter I want you to tell me frankly--is there not some way in which I can show my appreciation? Is there not something you want to do? Girls like you and my Pat here have so many air castles and I would like----"

"Oh, please stop!" Sheila sprang to her feet, her face burning. "I just can't bear it! If I had done what I knew, right then, I ought to do--and told you, there at the Works--they might have been stopped--in time! But I didn't! I waited! The only way I can bear thinking about it is knowing that--I'm being punished!" Her shame-faced glance went from the piano to her mother's face. "So please don't say anything to me about----" she stopped, held by a sudden thought, and drew from the pocket of her blouse a small, flat package of tissue paper. With trembling fingers she unwrapped it and held up to view her badge of the Golden Eagle.

"I didn't live up to it! I didn't keep my Scout's honor! Mr. Everett, please, will you take it and keep it for me--until the formulas are found? I cannot wear it!"

There was no doubting the resolution in Sheila's face. The man marveled at the courage with which this mere girl inflicted upon herself the punishment she thought she deserved! In spite of a half-smothered exclamation from Pat, he took the badge, carefully re-wrapped it, and put it away in his pocket.

"Sheila, you are evidently determined not to forget this lesson! Many of us make mistakes often by hesitating to heed the voice of our conscience, but I know one girl that isn't going to let it happen again!" He patted her affectionately upon her shoulder. "I don't know," he added, enigmatically, "but that this all may not be worth more than the formulas--for us all!"

Then he shook Mrs. Quinn's hand warmly in parting.

"I congratulate you, madam." And though Mrs. Quinn was too flustered to know what in the world for, nevertheless she beamed with pleased pride!

CHAPTER XI

YOUNG WINGS

"Tat! Tat! Tat! T-tat!"

The mystic door of the Eagles' Eyrie opened wide enough to admit Peggy Lee and Keineth Randolph.

All sorts of greetings assailed them. "Hello, Eagles!" "We were afraid you wouldn't come!" "A half-holiday and such a storm," regretfully from Pat.

"We'd come through flood and fire!" cried Peggy, with magnificent expression. "We are the bearers of good tidings!"

"What? What? What?" came at once from three throats.

"The Wasps have challenged us to another game, and if we don't beat the pigskin right off of 'em--I'll resign as captain of the team!"

"Peg--you talk more and more like Billy!"

"Garrett, if you please," and Peggy struck a fine pose! "Now that he has come into the dignity of long trousers, my dear brother desires to be called Garrett! Billy is far too childish for him and William would confuse him with his respected father who is also my dear daddy----"

"Well, Garrett, then," Keineth laughed, "only I heard you promise your mother you would not use any more slang!"

"So I did, and I am trying, and what I really mean is that if my dear little Yellowbirds do not play an exquisitely nice game and defeat the Wasps I shall be prostrated with chagrin and shall send in my----"

"Oh, for goodness sake, Peg!" they begged.

Peggy now became very earnest. The Wasps, Troop Nine's basketball team, was the only scout team that Troop Six had not been able to beat. Now the Yellowbirds were going to have another chance! For the next two weeks they must practice as they had never practiced before! They must uphold the honor of Troop Six!

Pat's face, as she listened to the plans, wore a wistful look. She wanted so much to make the Troop team! No one of the scrubs worked harder at practice! And Peggy had told her, too, that she was beginning to play a good game. Of course it was wicked to wish that anything might happen to any of the valiant Yellowbirds, however--

Renée interrupted the plans of the young athletes by abruptly pushing back the one sound chair in the room which she had been occupying.

"It's too dark to work!" she declared, shutting her paint box.

"Let's just sit around and talk," suggested Pat "I feel lazy! Anyway, Ren, you work too hard! I heard Aunt Pen say so."

Against the windows of the Eyrie the storm beat relentlessly--rain and hail; gusts of wind, sounding like witches' voices around the gable. The girls stretched out on the floor. Sheila shut the book she had been reading. Pat pulled Keineth's head into her lap that she might "play," as she called it, with the bright curls escaping from the band that held them back.

"You'd almost think there were fairies around! Listen!" Keineth held up her hand. "It makes me think of a story poor Tante used to tell me about the kind fairies who came to whisper to the princess what she should do when she had been shut in the tower of the castle by the wicked prince. Tante used to try and make me understand how one could learn something from all those fairy tales--the wicked prince was our own selfish natures, the beautiful princess was, of course, our bestest selves that we'd shut away in the prison tower and the fairy voices that whispered and sang 'round the tower were the voices of Opportunity! But, dear me, I used to think it was more fun just to believe that the princess was a real princess!"

"I wish a fairy would come right now and tell me what would rhyme with "long" besides "song!" sighed Pat.

"And I wish a fairy would just guide my fingers for me," put in little Renée from her corner.

"Let's all tell what we want to be," cried Peggy. "I've always said I was going to be an actress! I was in a play once and did awfully well! But Barbara met Ethel Barrymore when she visited college and she told the girls that only a few of the women who go on the stage are really happy or become famous! I don't believe Barb told her about me but Barb got the idea that she sort of--meant me! And Billy--or Garrett--says my feet are too big, anyway, and I guess he's right! So now I'm trying to decide whether to be a chemist or a doctor! I love to fuss with the cunning little dishes and mix up all sorts of things, and if I don't blow myself up Dad says I'll be all right. But I'd like to be a doctor, too!" Poor Peggy's forehead wrinkled in a deep frown over the perplexing problem of her future.

"My father says that after four more years of school he will take me abroad to study my music from great masters! And I will learn to play and to write beautiful music!" said Keineth softly, looking as though off in the shadows of the room she could see her dearest dreams come true.

"Your turn, Ren!"

Renée blushed under the serious glances turned toward her. "I've wanted ever since I was a little girl, to make things out of clay and marble, like my father used to make--and Emile. Emile had promised to teach me when I was older. My mother could never bear to see the clay and tools around, it made her very sad, I think because it made her think of my poor father. One summer mother and Emile and I went to the sea, and when we'd sit on the beach Emile would help me make rabbits and cats and birds out of the wet sand. I love to draw and paint, but when I am older I shall learn to carve, too!"

"Now, Sheila!"

Sheila laughed. "Goodness, girls, I've never had a moment to make nice dreams like yours! I did want to learn to play the piano----" she stopped short; the hurt of disappointment and the smart of remorse had not healed in her heart. "But I never could have earned any money--with it! I just want to hurry through school as fast as I can so that I do something that will help the boys and mother along! They'll want, maybe, to go to college! I think I'd like sometime to be a nurse! I'm awfully big and strong, you see, and mother has taught me a lot of sensible things!"

"You be a nurse and I'll be a doctor!" exclaimed Peggy.

"We've all told but you, Pat!"

"What are you going to be?"

Pat looked around the circle of earnest faces. It was a moment of noble thoughts, of precious confidences!

"Girls, I'll tell you all a secret if you'll promise not to tell!"

"We'll promise!"

"Cross your hearts?"

"Cross our hearts and on our scout's honor."

"Well"--Pat hitched along to the center of the circle--"I'm going to be a poet! And I'm writing a ballad--right now," she mysteriously tapped her pocket from which protruded a long pencil and a corner of paper. "And it's about Aunt Pen!"

"Aunt Pen!" cried Renée.

"Yes--that's the secret! You think she's happy but she has a secret sorrow and I found it out!"

"Oh, tell us! What is it? Do hurry, Pat!"

Pat's voice dropped to a fittingly sorrowful note. "It was a disappointed love, I think! That silly malady even attacked poor Aunt Pen, though she isn't like lots of people and doesn't go round with a broken heart within her bosom and sighing and weeping like they do in stories! I guessed it when she asked me so many questions about Captain Allan, Renée's guardian, you know, and she looked so funny and red when she was asking them just like I do when I'm saying one thing but really wanting to say another! Then she wanted to see a letter he had written to Renée and Renée brought it, and I watched her face and then I knew! It turned fiery red and then white and she did the queerest thing--she kissed that letter, real quick--just a plain letter he'd written to Renée! I couldn't believe my eyes that it was Aunt Pen! She knew I saw her and she began to laugh and then to sort of cry! She told us that she was sure it was a Mr. Allan she had known her senior year in college! I begged her to tell more but she just said 'there isn't any more to tell!' and we couldn't get another word out of her! Of course Aunt Pen has a right to hide her own secret sorrow away but she can't stop my putting it into a ballad! Only I can't think of anything to rhyme with 'long'--except 'song' and I've used that!"

"Go right through the alphabet, Pat! Bong, cong, dong----"

"Now don't you girls tell a soul that I'm going to be a poet!" Pat admonished.

Peggy sprang to her feet. "Girls--let's make a solemn pledge to stick to our ambitions and not let a single thing stop us! And we'll help one another!"

"We must have a pass-word! Let's have it 'Steadfast!'"

"We ought to have a motto, too!"

"I know a Latin one, 'Labor omnia vincit!' How's that?"

"Spliffy! Now to do this right, girls, we must have a ceremony! Stand up--in a circle! Hold hands--thumbs in--like this! Now all say the motto together! What was it, Keineth?"

Keineth repeated, "Labor omnia vincit!" and the girls said it with her.

"Now, altogether--'Steadfast'--so we'll get used to it!"

"Steadfast!" in hissing whispers.

Sheila was so thrilled that she was moved to oratory! "Girls, I know some day we're all going to be great! I just feel it! And we'll look back to this afternoon in our youth and say----"

"Steadfast!" giggled Peggy.

"Tat! Tat! Tat! Tat!"

"Sh-h! It's Aunt Pen!"

Aunt Pen, deserted below, had blackened her face and put on her head a bright yellow turban, to look as nearly as possible like Aunt Jemima of pancake fame! Now on a huge tray she bore a plate of doughnuts and a pitcher of cider. A noisy greeting welcomed her into the Eyrie!

That night Renée was wakened by Pat's insistent call in her ear. The lights were burning and Pat was standing over her, tragedy written in every line of her face. Alarmed, Renée sat bolt upright, her eyes wide.

"Sh-h! Don't be frightened! It's just--I've lost my ballad!"

Renée thought she must be dreaming--or was Pat stark crazy?

"I couldn't sleep and I was thinking I'd change that 'long' for 'carry,' 'cause there'r so many words rhyme with that--and I looked in my pocket and it was gone!"

Renée was aghast at the seriousness of the loss! Putting on their slippers they stole down the stairs and made a thorough search. But they could find no trace of the missing ballad! At last Renée persuaded the disconsolate Pat to go back to bed.

"Well, I'll just have to write it again!" she sighed, digging her tired head into the pillow. "Maybe this time I'll write it in prose 'cause it's such a bother making words rhyme! Only, poets are so much nicer than just authors, don't you think so, Renée? Renée----"

But for the first time Renée failed to meet her friend with sympathetic understanding--she soundly sleeping!

CHAPTER XII

THE GAME

"Renée! Aunt Pen! Guess!" Pat climbed the stairs two steps at a time.

"I'd guess that you had been running every inch of the way home," laughed Aunt Pen, for Pat's cheeks were scarlet from the outdoor air and her hair was tumbling down about her ears.

"I should say I had! Such good luck! Or"--she attempted to correct herself--"of course it isn't exactly good luck, only--True Scott sprained her ankle and I'm to play guard in the game tomorrow!"

"Oh, Pat, I'm so glad! I know you'll win!" and Renée looked as though she believed that the Yellowbirds needed only Pat as one of their guards to rout the Wasps in an overwhelming defeat!

"I'm glad you've been chosen to substitute, for you have practiced so faithfully," declared Aunt Pen. "It is hard on True, though!"

"Peggy says that maybe it's a kind Providence that sprained her ankle, 'cause True didn't play as well in the last game! Of course, as Peg says, when you're captain of a team you can't let friendship make a bit of difference! And she says if I play all right in this game she thinks I'll be put on the team! You can just know I'm going to try my best!"

Aunt Pen had decided that Renée was not strong enough as yet for the basketball practice. Sometimes she went with Pat to the gymnasium, carefully keeping out of the way of the players but watching with interest Pat's progress in the game; more often she spent the hours when Pat was at practice, in painting, working out new designs for her cards, reading or walking with Aunt Pen. Each day found the little girl happier, more contented in her new home and more passionately devoted to her new friends who had brought into her life a wealth of affection and interests she had never dreamed could exist. Day by day Aunt Pen saw the fragile body develop into girlish strength and the timid spirit gain in courage and confidence. The shadow of her sorrows would never completely leave her, but it had helped in moulding and maturing the young mind and strengthening it to meet whatever the future held for her.

Aunt Pen had found a fascination in Renée's quiet company.

"One gets the impression that never a word passes her lips quickly! Sometimes she makes me feel ashamed of my impulsiveness!" Penelope told her brother one evening. They had been talking of her work with the girls. Mr. Everett had asked:

"Well--is our larkspur budding?"

Aunt Pen, taking his question very seriously, had answered modestly: "I don't know about the Latin and Algebra but I do know that Pat is a healthier, happier girl than she has ever been before, and we may feel very proud of Renée when we turn her over to Captain Allan!"

Pat was not there to see the color flood Aunt Pen's face as she said these last words.

"We ought to hear from him soon! I hope he has been able to find out more concerning the child. I do not like to question her too closely--I can see that it makes her unhappy and homesick."

Penelope would have liked to have asked her brother more concerning Renée's guardian but he began to talk of something else. Often, as she and Renée sat or walked together, she allowed to creep into her thoughts a rosy day-dream of that time when the officer would come to claim his ward!

Pat upset her entire family with her preparations for the all-important game! She must have her dinner early in order that a sufficient time for proper digestion might elapse before her bed hour! As authority on this point she quoted rules which seemed to have been laid down by their tyrannical captain. She must have eggs, too; for her supper, and could not dream of eating the steam pudding, rich with dates and raisins, which Melodia had prepared. It would surely lie heavily in her stomach, make her restless all night and stupid and sluggish the next day! A nice custard--Pat detested custards--she must have!

Then for ten minutes early the next morning the chandeliers of the house rattled in their brackets and the pictures danced on the walls--not an earthquake, only Pat, guard of the Yellowbirds, "just loosening her muscles" in a process of gymnastics that included everything she had ever heard of!

As the hour of the game approached the gymnasium of the Lincoln School was a-flutter with color and noisy with life. Enthusiastic rooters from Troop Nine, gaily decked with the green, gold and black colors of the Wasps, were packed solidly against one side of the room. Equally brilliant and boisterous were the upholders of the Yellowbirds! As they sang their troop songs they waved small yellow flags and strands of ribbon.

An older girl from Troop Nine acted as umpire and Captain Ricky as referee. Peggy's face was a comical mixture of sternness and entreaty as she whispered a few last commands to her team. Pat, outwardly proud and calm, was inwardly quaking! What if she should fail at any moment! As the game began she was seized with a terrible giddiness--the room swam about her, she saw only a ridiculous composite of eyes and noses and mouths and color against the dancing walls! Her feet were heavy like lead and a long way from her!

Afterwards Pat could not have told at what time or why this curious sensation left her! She only knew that suddenly everything cleared and she felt that the only thing in the whole wide world that mattered was keeping the alert forward, whom she was guarding, from throwing a basket! And the faces and colors that had whirled a moment before faded and left these two alone, in deadly combat!

The cheering that had been constant suddenly ceased; the circle of spectators sat with bated breath while the ball passed backward and forward, now a basket thrown for the Wasps, in another moment one for the Yellowbirds. Occasionally a particularly good play would bring forth a loud shout only to have it hushed immediately in the suspense of watching. Renée and Aunt Pen sat side by side. Aunt Pen had played basketball in her college days; now she watched eagerly, admiring the splendid guarding of the Wasps as generously as Peggy's swift center work. Renée just sat very still, saying over and over to herself: "Oh--oh--oh!" with her eyes fastened upon Pat's every move!

At the end of the first half the score stood twenty-four to twenty-six in favor of the Wasps. Peggy had a whispered word with Keineth who was playing forward. Her guard was a girl a head taller than she; a little overwhelmed by this Keineth had been slow in one or two of her plays!

The second half went on with quick, even play, that now and then drew forth shouts of approval from the spectators. The Yellowbirds scored four baskets only to have the Wasps, with brilliant team work, recover their lead with four baskets! The Wasps' center shot the ball with a low throw to her forward. As she caught it the linekeeper sharply pounded the floor with an Indian club. "Over the line," the referee declared. "Yellowbirds have an unguarded throw!" Patricia was given the ball. Renée shut her eyes--she could not watch! But she knew when Aunt Pen sprang to her feet that her Pat had not failed. With a movement quick as lightning she had passed the ball to the other guard who in turn had shot it back to center! And while Aunt Pen was still on her feet Peggy had thrown it to Keineth who, with a low, lithe movement of her body, ducked the wildly waving arms of her guard and threw a basket!

"A tie! Now for the test!" whispered Aunt Pen, clutching Renée's hand so hard that it hurt.

For the next few minutes the ball passed swiftly backward and forward, the guards and forwards leaped and ran! Each player, keyed to the utmost effort, was everywhere at once, arms waving, eyes alert to the slightest advantage or weakness in defense! A dreadful stillness held the room broken only by the occasional low, sharp exclamations--like pistol shots--of the players. Peggy's face was pale; again and again Keineth eluded her guard only to find her, in a second, again towering before her!

The ball passed toward the Wasps' basket; Patricia caught it and threw it toward the center; Sheila, playing side-center, with a swift leap, gripped it and threw it to Keineth. But Keineth's guard sent it hurtling back to the Wasps' center! While the spectators, conscious that this was the last and crucial moment, rose to their feet in a body, the Wasps' forward caught it and, swift as lightning, threw it backward over her head straight down through the basket! The referee's whistle ended the game--the Wasps had won!

It was always customary, following the Troop games, to have a spread for the contesting teams. Almost always the players laid aside immediately all joy of victory, sting of defeat and bitterness of contest and threw themselves heart and soul into a general frolic! But this afternoon the atmosphere was charged with resentment! While the triumphant Wasps gathered noisily in their corner the Yellowbirds sulked in another part of the room. Captain Ricky and her assistants had gone to prepare the goodies. There was no one to check the rapidly rising tide of complaint and criticism!

"She did only have one hand on the ball--I could swear now!" "The line watchers weren't fair, I saw her foot go over!" and "She just shoved me!" "Who'd ever expect her to throw over her head!" and "I saw that center walk three whole steps with the ball and the umpire never called a foul!" The mutterings grew louder and the word "cheat" penetrated to the corner.

Captain Ricky, coming into the room, heard it, too. She guessed in a moment, by the expression of the girls' faces, what had been happening! She drew them close about her.

"Girls! Girls!" They had never heard just that tone in their captain's voice. "What is this spirit you are showing! I have always been so proud of you--so sure of you! And I was very proud to-day! You played a brilliant game! You were only defeated because the other team played even a better game! If each one of you feels that she played her very best, then there is not a complaint that can be made! You were outplayed--and just because you are the good players you have shown yourselves to be--why, you should be quick and generous in your praise of the better work of the other team! I am disappointed, my scouts! I want you to remember always that I'd lots rather have you good losers--if you've done your best--than winners! If you will learn that it will help you years from now when you are playing more serious and difficult games than basket-ball! And it will teach you to turn defeat into a real blessing!"

The Yellowbirds had stood with drooping plumage while their leader spoke. Each one was ashamed. Peggy was the first to speak. Throwing back her dark head she stalked across the room to where Cora Simmons, who had played center for the Wasps, stood in a group of Troop Nine scouts.

"I'm just ashamed of myself!" she cried, "'cause I didn't shake hands with you the moment the game was over and tell you how well you played!" There was no questioning the sincere ring in Peggy's voice.

The other Yellowbirds followed her example, and soon there was a babble of voices going over in most friendly discussion the crucial moments of the game. Now the defeated players were determined that there should be no stint to their praise of the work of the Troop Nine girls!

"Let's have a cheer-ring!" cried Peggy, and immediately each Yellowbird caught a Wasp by the shoulder and formed a close circle. The room rang with their cheers; Troop Six cheered for Troop Nine and Troop Nine cheered for Troop Six, and then, they all cheered for the Girl Scouts!

Pat, wanting to free her soul before her whole world of whatever guilt might lie between it and Captain Ricky's approval, loudly clapped her hands and demanded that they all listen while she confessed to them that she was sure she had once even pinched the forward she was guarding and that "she had been a perfect peach not to tell!"

Pat's declaration caused peals of laughter which quickly burst into shouts of delight when Captain Ricky's lieutenant called loudly from the doorway, "Eats!" And the afternoon ended with the happiness and contentment found in good fellowship!

CHAPTER XIII

THE CHRISTMAS PARTY

Christmas was drawing near with all its promise of joy. And the world wrapped for so long in the gloom of war, took on a new gladness; weeks before the holiday, doors and windows were hung with holly, stores spread out a fascinating array of giftwares; a new light shone in smiling faces as though "Peace on earth" was ringing through the souls of the people!

Pat's head was bursting with plans for the blessed holiday. It must be a different Christmas from any Renée had ever known! For days they had busied themselves preparing the box that had gone to St. Cloud--a dress for Susette and some aprons that Renée herself had made, tobacco for Gabriel and warm slippers and shoes for them both; sugar, coffee, and canned goods and dried fruits until Renée was sure Susette's neat shelves would groan under their weight. And in a heart-shaped silver frame a picture of Renée!

Pat declared that they must have a Christmas tree, for Renée had never had one! And even though they were quite grown-up they must also hang up their stockings! Aunt Pen and Daddy promised to hang theirs, too, so that Pat and Renée spent many an afternoon in secret shopping tours, returning with mysterious packages which were carefully hidden away in the Eyrie.

Then a letter from the south, whose usual cheery tone was tinged with a little homesickness, made Mr. Everett decide to join his wife for the holiday season. At first Pat rebelled stormily, lamenting that his going would spoil everything; then for days she sulked like a naughty child until Aunt Pen came to the rescue! From spending the afternoon with Peggy Lee's mother, Aunt Pen returned, with a "secret!"

"What is it, Aunt Pen? Can we know?" the girls asked eagerly.

"Yes, you will be in the "secret!" It's a--real Christmas party! And it will be different from any you've ever heard of before! I'll tell you the plans we discussed and then we'll get your father's permission. I know when you hear all about it you'll smile again, Miss Pat, and declare that this is going to be the best Christmas you've ever had--even with Daddy away!"

"Will the party be here?" asked Pat, recalling on the instant some very lovely parties given for her sister which she, because she was too little to go downstairs, had had to watch over the stair banister.

"No, I don't believe the house would be big enough for this one," and Penelope laughed at the mystified expression on Pat's face.

Then Aunt Pen unfolded the plans she and Mrs. Lee had made. The girls of the Troop would be the hostesses of this party and the guests would be the men, women and children in the neighborhood of the Works. There must, of course, be a tree, and the girls could arrange tableaux and then everyone could sing and dance! And there would be sandwiches and coffee and ice cream and cake and a gift for each one.

Gradually into Pat's face crept a deep interest so that when the last small detail had been explained the smile that Aunt Pen had prophesied came back once more. It would be a wonderful party, and could they begin planning the tableaux right away and couldn't they run over this very minute and tell Sheila?

So that Mr. Everett's going made scarcely a break in the exciting preparations, the rehearsals, the arranging of costumes, the planning of the party "supper" and the gifts for the guests. In desperation Aunt Pen declared that the holidays might as well begin at once as it was impossible to hold Pat down to any lessons! And Renée, too, was working feverishly, completing a rush order for Christmas cards that had come to "LaDue and Everett" from Miss Higgin's tea room!

On Christmas Eve the Eyrie was emptied of the treasures it had held, the stockings hanging over the library fireplace were filled and little piles of tissue paper packages of all sizes were made for Jasper, Melodia and Maggie. The rooms were filled with a spicy odor of hemlock; holly hung over window and door.

"Oh, isn't it fun?" laughed Pat, stepping back to survey the bulging stockings. "Can you guess what's in anything, Ren? And don't you wish you were little again and really truly believed in Santa Claus?"

"Susette used to tell me stories of the real St. Nicholas--she said he was the patron saint of children!"

"Well, I like to think of him as a jolly old fellow driving his reindeers faster'n Watkins can drive the car--and lots of jingling bells! I think about it and then I can most hear them!"

Renée had gone to one of the windows at the end of the room to peer out into the darkness. Snow had fallen which dulled the sounds of the city to a musical tone not unlike distant bells of the good Santa. Suddenly she called to Pat:

"Come and look--over at Sheila's!"

There on the strip of lawn before the old brick house was a Christmas tree, hung with tinsel and twinkling with lighted candles that swayed and blinked in the darkness.

That was Mrs. Quinn's merry Christmas! She and the children had hung ropes of tinsel, red and gold balls, sparkling hearts and rings and little candles out on the old spruce that grew in the corner of the yard.

"To give to any poor body going by that maybe hasn't any Christmas just a bit of the brightness!" she had explained.

Renée, watching from between the library curtains, thought it very beautiful! It was like a fairy tree, placed there in the darkness by spirit hands, breathing from its fragrant brightness a joy that all could share! Even at that moment they could see a bent old man, leading a little boy by the hand, lingering to stare at the twinkling lights!

Many years before this the Everett Works had been moved from the modest factory not far from the Everett home, where it had had its beginning, to the great pile of steel and concrete buildings distantly removed from the business center of the city. Immediately there sprang up on the stretches of fields intervening between the smoky walls of the new plant and the quiet shaded streets where the Lees and the Everetts and the Randolphs lived, a community of small, shapeless houses, one exactly like the other, divided by half-paved streets with their rows of sickly infant elms and maples; with muddy backyards barricaded by miles and miles of clothes-line, and thousands of window-panes blackened by the incessant rain of soot from the belching chimneys. Though the suburb had the beautiful name of Riverview, suggestive of cool breezes and open spaces, it was always and more fittingly known as "The Neighborhood."

To the hundreds of little dingy homes had come men, women and children from every land of the globe--here Liberty offered them asylum and the Everett Works an honest living. In the center of the community the Works had erected a splendid schoolhouse and had presented it to the city. Although its outer walls were soon stained and blackened like the rows of houses, its interior was as fresh and attractive as clean paint, pictures and many growing plants could make it! Here the children of the foreign-speaking parents were taught to be true Americans. And in its big assembly room, whose windows looked out over the rows and rows of railroad tracks with their solid wall of motionless freight cars, to the river and open fields beyond, the girls of Troop Six held their Christmas party.

Even before the last holly wreath had been fastened in place the guests began to come--whole families at a time, in holiday attire that to Pat made them look like pictures in some fairy-tales; old men and old women, younger men with hands still grimy from their work, younger women with tired faces and babies in their arms; some eager, some a little shy, all smiling.

Pat, peeping out from behind the curtain, declared that there were hundreds there and that they were talking in every language known--except Latin! But when some one at the piano began to play "America," in some way or other the strange words melted into a common tongue--the high treble of the children carrying the song along!

A hush fell on the audience when the curtains of the stage slowly parted to show the first of the tableaux. Briefly John Randolph, Keineth's father, told in Polish the story of the landing of the Pilgrims on "the stern and rockbound coast" while on the stage the Pilgrims, with painfully suppressed laughter, struggled to keep the Mayflower, made out of old canvas and chairs, from falling to pieces!

The next picture showed the early colonists making treaties with the Indians. Sheila, grave and dignified in Puritan collar and hat, was holding out strings of gay beads to an Indian chief, resplendent in paint and feathers, who carried over his arm the hides that the colonists needed. Then in simple words Mr. Randolph explained how the first purchases of land in the United States came about.

Peggy made an impressive George Washington at Valley Forge, while Garrett Lee and some of his friends sat about a smouldering camp-fire. Again she appeared with Betsey Ross, who was stitching on the first American flag, which part Keineth played. But Washington's dignified manner was sadly spoiled when his wig suddenly slipped to one side, so that poor Betsey had to bite her lips very hard to keep from giggling at his rakish appearance! Nevertheless the audience--especially the children who recognized in the picture a favorite school story--clapped loudly with genuine enthusiasm.

The last tableau, everyone declared, was the best of all! Captain Ricky was America, standing in white robes against a big American flag, her arms outstretched to the eager pilgrims who approached her! And these were dressed in the national costumes of almost every country on the globe; some had approached, apparently, with brave step, heads high and shoulders straight, others had come wearily; some were old and some were young; many had been carrying heavy burdens which they had cast aside. And from the wrists of each hung the broken links of the shackles that had bound them!

The tableau told its own story! For a moment there was a hushed silence, then a mighty applause shook the room. And Captain Ricky, as though she indeed embodied the gracious spirit of America, smiled back from the stage at the men and women who, like the pilgrims in the picture, had come to this land of freedom!

After this tableau the curtains at the back of the stage were drawn back, displaying a beautiful Christmas tree, trimmed only by the many lights half-concealed in its branches and by a huge, gleaming star at its top. Some of the scouts at one corner of the stage began a simple Christmas carol--the guests took it up, humming where they could not speak the words. A group of young men broke into a Polish song; other songs followed--songs that these people had brought with them across the sea.

"They are more beautiful than ours!" cried Keineth to her father.

Then, under Captain Ricky's direction, the trimming of the tree began. This was a surprise even to the girls of the Troop, who sat with bright eyes watching. For each one in the room who had had a son, a brother, a husband or a father in the service of the country, was given a silver star to hang upon the branches of the tree. One by one they went up--at first shyly, then proudly; bent old men with uncertain step, young wives, blushing, with children tugging at their skirts; old women, scarcely understanding it all but eager to hang their symbol, until the tree was a-twinkle with the gleaming stars!

From long tables in one of the classrooms adjoining steaming, fragrant coffee in big cups and turkey and chicken sandwiches were served, then ice cream and cake. Everyone talked at once--the children ran round in complete abandonment to the joy of the moment; some of the guests, too excited to eat, had already begun the dancing!

And Mrs. Lee and Aunt Pen were busy distributing among them all the small silk American flags which were the gifts of the evening!

"It's the best party ever," Pat stopped long enough in a whirling dance to whisper to Aunt Pen.

"Where's Renée?" Aunt Pen answered.

After a moment's search she found her alone behind the big tree. She was fastening upon one of the branches her silver star! Tears dampened her cheeks.

"Oh--my dear!" cried Aunt Pen. Over her swept the realization of what Renée had given that "peace might come upon this world!" She caught the small hand and held it.

"Not there," she whispered, "but here!" and taking the star she hung it close to the big Star at the top.

"He gave his Son for us, too," she added softly.

CHAPTER XIV

HILL-TOP

"Picnics," explained Peggy, with a conviction born of experience, "are just as much fun in the winter as they are in the summer, 'specially when they are at Hill-top!"

For the four days following Christmas snow had fallen steadily. Each moment of the holiday time had been filled with out-of-door fun: now Mrs. Lee had suggested that--as a sort of climax--the Eagle Patrol have a picnic at Hill-top!

Pat had never heard of a picnic in the middle of the winter!

But Peggy's enthusiasm was contagious! Hilltop--Pat had never been there--was a very old farmhouse ten miles from the city, back in the hills near Camp Wichita, where Captain Ricky took her girls in the summer-time. It belonged to an old man and his wife who had been friends of Mrs. Lee's father. During the winter months they preferred to move into a more sheltered cottage nearer the barns. The house--a short walk from the lake on which the young people skated in the winter and canoed in the summer--had great square rooms and many of them, warmed by fire-places like caverns that consumed whole logs at a time. Often Mrs. Lee, who found real recreation in such little excursions with her young people--had taken the girls and boys there for week-end picnics!

"Mother says we may stay three whole days this time! We can skate and coast and have all kinds of fun! Garrett has a new bob that he made and he says he'll bet anything it can beat all the others."

"Do the boys go, too?" broke in Pat.

"Oh, yes, mother likes to have them go! They help a lot, you see, and she says it wouldn't be nearly as much fun if they weren't along. Jim Archer and Bob Slocum and Ted Scott and maybe Wynne Meade will go--and Garrett! They're sort of fun!" for Peggy read disappointment in Pat's face.

"I think boys are a nuisance!"

Sheila came promptly to the defense. "Perhaps--sometimes! But brothers are nice!"

Pat's experience had been limited to the bashful young brothers, miserable with too much scrubbing and stiff collars, who had occasionally visited the other girls at school.

Peggy thought it a decided waste of time to be bothering over such a point when there was so much to plan and do! So, with a conviction intended to end the discussion, she said: "Well, they carry the logs and the water and go out and open the house and I guess we'll find them mighty useful!"

And, indeed, Pat was to find one of the boys more than useful before the picnic was over!

A few hours' well-organized activity put everything in readiness for the house-party. Garrett Lee appointed himself chief of the commissary and flew tirelessly between his home and the grocery store until he had assembled enough cans of soup, bacon, weiners and other eatables peculiar to scouts' appetites to feed a regiment! Sheila and Mrs. Lee, after a brief consultation, added to the equipment many little necessities that Garrett in his masculine ignorance had overlooked. Two of the other girls collected the necessary kitchen utensils and a simple first-aid kit. Loaded down with all these and with extra blankets and the bobs, the boys and Mrs. Lee went on out to Hill-top a day in advance to open the house and prepare it for the others.

Pat, inspired by the activities of the others and not having been pressed into troop service, busied herself by packing and repacking almost every garment that she and Renée possessed!

"Patsy, dear, you won't need all those things," Aunt Pen had laughed, pointing to the bulging suitcase.

Pat admitted this. "Well, it's fun packing 'em and I just had to do something," she confessed.

The next day eight merry girls boarded the funny little train that puffed off slowly toward the hills. To Renée the picnic was the most exciting of adventures! She had seen little snow--never in her life anything like the great piles, snowy white, through which the train was snorting its way! She had never had on a pair of skates in her life, nor had she ever coasted down a hill! And as Peggy told of Garrett's new bob, "Madcap," and its lightning speed, she shivered with an ecstasy of fear and wondered--if they made her ride on it--what it would feel like to fly over the snow and whether she might not just die outright of terror!

The boys, in rollicking spirits and muffled to the tips of their noses, met them at the station; together they trudged back through the snow to the farmhouse. Logs were crackling merrily in the big fireplaces and a table had been spread ready for an early supper. The girls fell to unpacking the equipment and spreading their blankets over the funny old beds and the cots which had been brought up from the nearby camp. Sheila, who had been appointed officer-in-charge, promptly, in accordance with the custom of scout outings, posted in a conspicuous place, the "standing rules."

"Oh, they're the kind of rules any good scout'll keep," Peggy exclaimed to Pat, who was regarding the slip of paper in amazement with a look on her face that said plainly "this is the funniest picnic I ever knew!" "Come on and find the others!"

For supper they ate many baked potatoes and weiners and hot biscuits, which Mrs. Lee had mixed and baked by magic--"just to have a nice beginning!" At the table the boys announced the schedule for the skating and coasting races which they had planned for the next day and fell to arguing with friendly violence over the speed of their different bobs! Garrett then insisted that the four who had grabbed the last of the biscuits should make up the Kitchen Police, whose duty it would be to clear away the supper dishes! And to the accompaniment of a mighty rattle of china plates and cups the others gathered around the blazing fire and sang.

Pat and Renée slept together in a huge four-posted bed. Gradually the big house had grown very quiet. "Isn't it fun?" Pat giggled into Renée's ear. "I've never been in the country in the winter-time before! And doesn't it feel queer sleeping without sheets?" Then she sighed. "I wish I could skate well!" She was thinking of the races planned for the morrow. Renée was apprehensive, too. "Do you suppose they'll make me go down on one of those dreadful bobs?" and she shuddered at the very thought!

Poor Pat, her pride--cropping up now and then--was her besetting sin! And the next morning, when she should have been gloriously happy, it mastered her! She hated the races, because she was always lagging along in the rear! She declared to herself that the boys were silly, tiresome stupids, because they made such a fuss when Peggy beat them all in a race down the lake and back! Finally, disgusted, she took off the hateful skates and joined Renée near the bank.

"I think they're stupid," she grumbled, digging her heel into the ice and not explaining whether she meant the boys, or the skates or the races!

The coasting in the afternoon comforted her a little! Jim Archer let her steer his "Gypsy!" They beat Garrett's "Madcap" and Pat secretly rejoiced at Garrett's chagrin!

Renée, from the top of the long hill, had watched the flight of the bobs with trembling fascination.

"Come along on Madcap," Garrett had called out. The three girls on it waved entreatingly to her. She had not the courage to refuse! White with terror she slipped in between Garrett and Peggy. The others shouted wildly as the bob began to move slowly down the hill but poor Renée's breath caught in her throat. As it went faster and faster she hid her face against Garrett's wooly back.

"Hang on!" cried Peggy behind her. Renée was certain they were flying! But just as she felt she must die with terror a wild "hurrah" went up, she opened her eyes--they were sliding over the ice at the bottom of the hill and the Madcap had won!

And to Renée's utter amazement she wanted to go down again--right away!

Afterwards Garrett let her steer the bob, and although they ended in a snowdrift and were almost buried in the soft snow, it did not in any way dampen her enthusiasm over the new sport she had learned!

"Oh, it was wonderful!" she exclaimed to Pat as they walked with the others toward Hill-top. "I thought I'd be so frightened and I wasn't!"

"Jim Archer's bob is much the best," Pat answered in such a disagreeable voice that Renée looked at her in hurt astonishment! How could there be enough difference in two bobs to make Pat speak to her in that tone!

However, hot oyster soup and pancakes scattered for a time the little cloud that threatened and through the meal Pat's voice was as merry as the merriest. After supper, leaving the Kitchen Police to their sad lot, the others again donned caps, sweaters and mittens and fell to building in front of the old farmhouse door two great snow forts, between which, in the morning, a mighty battle would be waged!

And Jim Archer, one of the self-appointed generals, asked Pat--before he asked any of the others--to be on his side!

This was balm to Pat's hurt vanity. Perhaps she couldn't skate as well as the others, but she guessed Jim Archer knew she could throw a snowball as straight and as hard as any boy! Anyway, Garrett Lee was too conceited! So that night, as she slept cuddled down in the big four-posted bed, she dreamed that she stood alone on the frosty breastwork of the fort she had helped build and by an onslaught of snowballs, thrown with unerring aim, drove Garrett Lee and his army to complete and ignominious surrender!

Poor Pat--the next day was to bring to her pride a sad fall!

CHAPTER XV

PAT'S PRIDE AND ITS FALL

The next morning a bright sun peeped up over the hills touching field and lake, trees and house-tops with a frost of diamonds. At an early hour hungry boys and girls were demanding their breakfast "quick" and were hurling orders over the banister at the sleepy Kitchen Police, toiling below.

The snow-ball fight ended in a complete rout of Garrett's army, which put Pat in high spirits, and, although it had not been quite like her dream of the night before, Jim Archer had said to her, to her secret joy:

"Say, you throw as good as a boy!"

The remainder of the morning was spent playing hockey and coasting; the boys allowing the girls to race the bobs down the hill. Renée, quite by herself, steered the beautiful Madcap twice to victory! Perhaps never in her life had she felt so keenly alive or so happy! She stood looking over the little lake and the surrounding hills and drawing in long breaths of the frosty air. Its keenness made her cheeks and fingertips tingle, put a ringing note in the youthful voices around her and an added brightness into happy eyes!

"Let's all just skate this afternoon--no races or anything like that!" declared Peggy at luncheon and the suggestion met with instant approval.

"Oh, don't you wish we were just coming? Did you ever know days to go by so fast?" lamented one of the others.

"This hasn't gone by yet! To-night we're going to toast marshmallows!" put in Bob Slocum.

"And have a good sing! We always end a picnic that way!" explained Peggy to Pat.

"And breakfast bright and early to-morrow, so that we will be all packed in time for the----"

"Lightning mail train!" Garrett added to his mother's injunction.

Mrs. Lee was never happier than when she was with her "boys and girls!" She loved each and every one of them as though they had all been hers from babyhood. She watched them now as they trooped away toward the lake, skates jingling over their arms. Something within her quivered with pardonable pride as her eyes rested for a moment on Garrett's manly young figure striding on ahead of the others. And when Peggy's voice, always boyishly loud, reached her ears as she shouted back to one of the other girls, her mother shook her head and laughed: "Oh, Peggy child, what a tomboy!"

For Pat the skating was much more fun, now, when there were no races! More accustomed to her skates she managed to get over the ice in better and easier fashion than she had on the day before. She was pleasantly conscious, too, that she made a rather pretty picture in her scarlet sweater and tam-o'-shanter--several of the girls had declared that they were going to immediately make red tams.

"Let's have a turn, Pat!" and Garrett Lee extended two warmly mittened hands in genial invitation. So Pat linked her arms with his and together they flew over the glittering stretch. With her balance supported by Garrett's strong grasp she skated easily; as they sped along down the length of the lake the wind whipped her breath and sent the blood bounding through her veins!

At the end of the lake they stopped "to take in air," as Garrett put it.

"Let's skate down there," cried Pat, pointing to the Inlet just beyond. There a narrow gorge, cutting deeply through the hillsides, let into the lake. Garrett knew that, because of its steep banks, its changing depths of water and strong eddies, the ice there was very unsafe.

"Oh, no, it's dangerous there! We never go into the Inlet, even in the summer! That's a rule!"

Poor Pat--she fancied Garrett was treating her like a little child! So she answered with a toss of her head:

"I haven't bothered to read the rules! I'm not afraid--if you are!" and she turned toward the Inlet.

"Pat--don't! It isn't safe--honest!"

The more earnest and concerned Garrett grew the more headstrong Pat! She started toward the Inlet, calling over her shoulder: "Oh, you're just a 'fraidy-cat'!"

Garrett watched her for a moment. There was no doubting her intention! He started after her and at the mouth of the Inlet overtook her.

"Pat," he begged, "mother'll be angry! I tell you it's one of the rules!"

But Pat simply shrugged her shoulders.

"Dare you to come with me, little boy!" she laughed teasingly. The Inlet, its banks rising steeply on each side, filled with dancing shadows made by the sun through the bare branches meeting overhead, looked very inviting! Thrilled with a sense of adventure, Pat skated with short strokes into the narrow opening.

Garrett had no choice but to follow her! Deeply alarmed, he again begged her to turn back! Now she pretended not to hear him!

But in a few moments she suddenly screamed and wildly waved her arms! At a bend in the narrow gorge the ice had cracked under her weight!

"Garrett!" she cried, turning.

"Go on! Keep moving!" he shouted. But Pat, terror-stricken, stood still, stretching out her arms imploringly. Garrett reached her just as the ice with a sharp crackle broke into pieces, dropping them both into the water.

Its iciness for a moment stunned Pat. Then she slowly realized that Garrett was supporting her with one arm and begging her to cling to the thin edge of the ice, to which he was holding with his other hand. His steady voice gave her courage! She tried to say something but her teeth only chattered together.

"We'll get out all right!" Garrett said, hopefully. "Hold on as lightly as you can!"

"Oh, don't let go of me--don't let go of me!" implored Pat, wanting to cry.

"I won't! Keep up your nerve!" And Garrett strengthened his hold under Pat's arm. He looked about him. From a tree growing out of the bank stretched a bare limb just a little way out of reach.

"We'll work along slowly until you can reach that branch! Take it easy, Pat!"

He began moving his grasp on the edge of the ice, slowly, cautiously, for sometimes it cracked, sending terror to Pat's soul! She recalled hearing someone tell how very deep the water was in the Inlet! And it was so black and cold!

"Come on! We'll make it!" he called out cheerily. They drew nearer and nearer the branch; soon Pat could reach it.

"Now let go of the ice and grab it! I'll hold you!"

"Oh no, no!" implored Pat, clinging tighter.

"You've got to, Pat! It's our only chance!" Summoning all the strength he had in his fine young body he lifted her as he spoke! The effort made great veins swell on his forehead. With a gasp of terror she caught and clung with both arms to the branch.

"Get your legs around it, too," directed Garrett. "Now work yourself along! Hurry, Pat!"

Stung into effort Pat with feverish haste did as he told her. Securing her hold on the branch by locking her strong legs about it she gradually swung around until she was astride it. Then it was but a moment's work to edge along to the bank. Grasping the strong roots of the undergrowth she pulled herself to the top. She wanted dreadfully then to throw herself down upon the ground and cry, but a sharp noise below made her turn suddenly.

Garrett had attempted to lift himself upon the branch. Strained by Pat's weight, under his it snapped off, dropping him back into the water.

"Garrett!" screamed Pat. In agony she watched for his head to reappear at the surface of the water. As he came up he again caught the edge of the ice, but his face was gray and drawn as though by sharp pain and his breath came and went in short gasps. She called him vainly over and over but he could not seem to muster enough strength to answer! She fancied, in her terror, that his fingers were slipping in their hold of the ice.

It was her turn to direct!

"Garrett, move down! See, the tree's across the ice! Maybe it'll hold! Oh, Garrett, try!"

With a slow, cramped movement he worked along the edge of the rapidly enlarging hole until he could grasp the broken branch which stretched now across the dark water, one end firmly held in a crack of the ice where it had buckled near the bank. Strengthened by desperation, Garrett managed to crawl along it until he reached the bank. As, numbed by exposure, he struggled to lift himself up the steep side of the gorge, clinging for support, as Pat had done, to roots and branches, repeatedly slipping back, it seemed to Pat as though he could not make it! At last her own frantic hands dragged him over the top to safety, only to have him drop in an unconscious heap at her feet!

All Pat knew was that whatever she had to do she must do quickly! Loosening the straps of her skates she threw them from her! Then she attempted to lift him. He was too heavy--she could not stagger a step with his weight in her arms. So as gently as she could she dragged him over the soft snow to a higher point of open ground from which she could see the lake and the skaters and the farmhouse!

"Girls! Girls! Jim!" she called frantically. They could not hear--only the echo of her own voice answered.

"What will I do?" she cried. She tore off her bright tam-o'-shanter and waved it high in the air! Suddenly she saw one of the girls detach herself! from a group of skaters and wave back!

An inspiration seized Pat! The semaphore code she had learned! Oh, could she remember it quickly enough? And poor Garrett himself had taught her! Snatching off her sweater she waved that in one hand and her tam in the other and slowly signaled:

"Accident--bring bobs--blankets--quick!"

It seemed to Pat as though they would never answer! She waved her message again--more slowly! Then one of the boys waved back: "Coming."

Now Pat began to cry--tears that left cold streaks on her own cheeks and splashed in a warm shower on Garrett's face as she knelt over him. He slowly opened his eyes and whispered, "All right, Pat?" Then, as though very tired, he closed them again and lapsed back into unconsciousness.

There was no more merriment at Hill-top! The boys brought Garrett, wrapped in blankets, on one of the bobs to the door of the farmhouse where his mother, warned of the accident, awaited him. No one would let poor Pat tell her story--there was too much to be done! While Mrs. Lee and Sheila cared for Garrett, the girls gave Pat a hot bath and a vigorous rub and put her to bed. And Jim Archer flew to the nearest telephone to summon a doctor and nurse from the city.

Garrett was very, very ill! Weakened by the exposure and strain he quickly developed pneumonia. The doctor would not let him be moved, he must remain at Hill-top! Mrs. Lee, brave with all her anxiety, begged the boys and girls to go back to the city quietly, not to worry, but to hope for Garrett's quick recovery! Sheila and Jim Archer she kept with her to help her. At the earliest possible moment came Mr. Lee with a trained nurse.

Pat, none the worse for her icy bath of the day before, lingered behind the others and miserably begged for a parting word with Mrs. Lee.

"It was all my fault," she whispered, bursting into tears. "I called him a fraidy-cat and went on, just so's he'd follow----"

Though Mrs. Lee took the girl in her arms, her face was very grave. But she guessed the suffering in Pat's heart, so she spoke kindly.

"Child, I am glad he didn't leave you! You must help us fight for him now and--well, he just must get well!" For a moment she could not keep her own tears back; then she resolutely wiped them away as much as to say, "this isn't fighting!"

Anxious days followed. Every morning and every evening Jim Archer telephoned to the Everett home from Hill-top a report of Garrett's condition. Sometimes there would be a word of encouragement--then he would be a degree worse! Pat, pale as a ghost, scarcely speaking to anyone, trembling at every sound, in spite of all Aunt Pen's and Renée's efforts, refused to be cheered or comforted! She spent almost all her time in the Eyrie with the door locked.

"I'm downright worried!" Aunt Pen said to Pat's father, who fortunately had returned in the midst of the trouble and anxiety. "Whatever does the child do in that room all by herself?"

No one would ever know! In the most shadowy corner of the Eyrie Pat had crept and there she had found strength to bear the suspense! Kneeling before one of the old broken chairs, she repeated over and over a little prayer she had made:

"Please God, make Garrett well! He was so brave and I was so wicked! I'm the one you ought to punish! Please make him well and I'll never, never be wicked again!"

Sometimes she would vary the wording of her little prayer and once, thinking that perhaps her clumsy sentences might not reach the Father's ear, she carried a prayer-book to the Eyrie and slowly, with great emphasis, repeated the prayer for the sick that she had often heard in church.

Going downstairs from one of these vigils in the Eyrie she heard Sheila's voice. Her heart stopped beating with an instant's fear! She rushed into the room where Sheila was talking to Aunt Pen and her Daddy.

"He is----" She could not make herself ask the question.

Sheila turned. Her tired face was bright with joy. "Garrett's better! He will get well! We didn't telephone because I wanted to tell you! I had to come home, for mother needed me."

"Really, truly?" Pat could scarcely believe that the black shadow was lifted from her. Sheila nodded laughingly.

"Really, truly! The doctor says he has a wonderful constitution! And we're all so glad, because we love Mrs. Lee so much!"

With quivering lips Pat turned and threw herself into her father's arms. There was so much she wanted to tell--of her silly vanity, her wicked recklessness, her leading another into danger, but the words would not come!

"I'll always remember--how he looked--up on the bank!" she shuddered, her face hidden against her father's coat. "I asked God to make him well and He did, and I guess I'll remember never--to be--wicked again!" And as though he understood how truly repentant poor Pat was, her dear Daddy patted her shoulder and held her very close.

CHAPTER XVI

GOOD TURNS

The winter days passed quickly in the Everett household. Each moment was filled with work or play. And so delightfully intermingled was the play with the work that the girls found themselves tackling their Latin verbs with the same zest they threw into their outdoor recreation.

In spite of the holidays and the suspense of Garrett Lee's illness the routine of Aunt Pen's "school" had been renewed with little difficulty. Pat, who always before had been very indifferent to the report system followed at Miss Prindle's, suddenly developed deep concern and pride in the reports that Aunt Pen carefully prepared at the end of each week to show Daddy and then tucked away in the spinnet desk to wait mother's return. She was improving in her Latin and her French; she could write a letter now with only one or two misspelled words; she tackled the difficult problems in Algebra in a fine fighting spirit, and with great pride--after many mortifying failures--was able to set before her father three beautifully browned loaves of bread!

Daddy had declared that such triumph must have its reward and had carried them all--pupils and teacher--off to the theatre to see "Penrod."

The Eaglets still gathered in the Eyrie. How much nearer each was coming to her ambitions no one of them could tell--that they were still steadfastly true to their pledge to help one another was certain; unconsciously perhaps, they did it by the strength of their friendship.

"LaDue and Everett" had developed a thriving business. Pat, quite all by herself, had gone to Brown Brothers, the leading bookstore in the city, and had sought and obtained an order for hand-painted valentines. This had given her courage to approach Miss Higgins and a nearby Gift-shop. Very proudly she presented the three orders to the senior member of the firm.

"There, I guess that'll make us work!"

At first Renée was aghast at the amount of work, but with Pat to help her and by steady application--although Aunt Pen was firm in her command that the work must not interfere with the outdoor play--she was able to complete the orders by the first of February. And so beautifully had the little valentines been made that Brown Brothers immediately ordered ten dozen dinner cards!

The rush of business set Pat at the company's books which had gotten into such a muddle that they had to be taken to Daddy to be straightened out. Pat's figures were like a Chinese puzzle running up and down the pages of her imposing ledger. Poor Mr. Everett had a knotty problem putting them into proper shape and Pat had a lesson in accounting!

Altogether, after all expenses had been paid, there was left to the account of the youthful firm a sum of eighteen dollars and fifty cents. Two-thirds of this, Pat declared, must be Renée's, because the responsibility of the work fell upon her--"though I'll just say it isn't any fun getting up your nerve to go in and ask for an order! They always treat you like a kid!" she explained, indignantly.

There were many demands upon their earnings. The scout uniforms had been bought; the girls each pledged six dollars to the Victory Army; there was the Red Cross, too, and the French Babies and the Vacation Fund for the tots at home--innumerable other good causes, worthy of their help.

"It makes me feel so grown-up to sign my name to all these pledges and things and pay for it out of my very own money!" And Pat assumed a comically mature air.

Pat was a real "Yellowbird" now and Renée was a "scrub." The girls had joined a swimming class, too; Pat, having spent many summers at the seashore was like a fish in the water, and helped Renée, who had to overcome a physical terror at the very thought of slipping over into the tank!

Early in February Garrett Lee was brought back to the city from Hill-top. Pat, with Aunt Pen, had immediately gone to see him and his mother. Mrs. Lee's kind welcome drove away the fear that had teen in Pat's heart; impulsively she threw her arms about Mrs. Lee's neck and, because Mrs. Lee could always see straight into the hearts of her boys and girls, she knew what prompted the caress and gave an affectionate hug in return.

"Garrett doesn't want one single word ever said about it all," she whispered in Pat's ear.

After that Pat went almost daily to the Lee house--sometimes with a book, or a basket of fruit or some home-made candy. At first she was a little shy in her friendly devotion, but after a while, so truly grateful did Garrett seem for her company and the things she brought to relieve the monotony of his convalescence, she simply rang the bell and ran straight up to his room. When these frequent visits interfered with lessons Aunt Pen said not a word, for she knew Pat was trying to make up in some small way for the harm she had wrought!

As Garrett grew stronger the young people deserted the Eyrie for the pleasant Lee living-room. "It does him more good than a trip to Florida!" his mother declared, looking with satisfaction at her patient. And the boys and girls were learning thoughtfulness and considerateness. When Peggy, of her own will, suddenly lowered her voice, and Jim Archer, without a word, shoved a pillow back of Garrett's head as he sat on the old divan, Mrs. Lee had thought--hard as it had been--Garrett's illness had brought some good.