The Camp Fire Girls at Sunrise Hill Part 14

CHAPTER XVIII

ONE WAY TO FIND OUT

Nevertheless within a few days the story had been circulated about the camp. Not a word, however, had been spoken concerning it by Betty, Esther or Miss McMurtry, but poor Nan Graham had betrayed herself. For in her effort to gain sympathizers, unfortunately a wider suspicion was aroused.

Sore and unhappy over what she insisted was a totally unjust supposition, it was but natural that she should turn to another girl for consolation. Not to Polly, however; Nan said not a word to her, for Polly had given no evidence of having heard of her ill-timed visit to Betty's trunk, having been on her way to the village at the time the offence was committed, and above everything Nan desired to remain fixed in Polly's good graces. No, she confided the account of her interview first to Beatrice Field, making so tragic a tale of it that Bee, who was quite young and only a mischievous tomboy in her disposition and never having heard anything of Nan's past mistakes, was deeply indignant.

"A Camp Fire girl accused of stealing, well not exactly accused but suspected!" Honestly Bee had never conceived of anything so dreadful, and so straightway put the whole case before her sister, Juliet. Then to her surprise Juliet, who was a far more worldly wise person, did not accept the story from the same point of view, indeed Juliet became immediately indignant for Betty's sake, declaring that she was being a martyr in not spreading the news of her loss abroad and at least endeavoring to recover her lost property.

Something of Juliet's impression must have crept into Bee, for in her next conversation with Nan there was a certain cooling off in sympathy that made Nan feel the need of another partisan. This time she was more unwise in selecting Edith Norton, for Edith had always particularly disliked Nan's presence in the Sunrise Camp and, even while hearing her side of the story, had unhesitatingly revealed not only a want of pity for her but a plain lack of faith.

Nan had forgotten to require at the beginning of their conversation that Edith keep her confidence a secret and so the older girl made no pretence of doing so. In her bitterness Nan had not hesitated to say hard things of Betty, Esther and even of their guardian in speaking of the injustice of their att.i.tude toward her, and these remarks Edith felt free to add to her own account. Not that she really meant to be cruel or unfair, but honestly feeling it best that Nan stay no longer in their camp she started a campaign toward that end. Perhaps because Edith was poor and self-supporting herself, unconsciously she resented the presence of another girl whose poverty was of so much less honorable a kind, for it is more difficult to be fair to persons almost in our own state of life than to those in far different ones.

Not long did Edith remain alone in her conviction, for the layer of real faith and affection for poor little Nan in camp was so thin that the first effort broke through it. In point of fact no one had actually wanted her at Sunrise Camp and had only been persuaded into it by Polly and Betty and by Miss McMurtry's approval, and really these three persons were still the only three who continued her champions.

Betty would not hear for an instant of Nan's being sent away, threatened to leave herself rather than be responsible for such an act of injustice. Miss McMurtry was equally firm, although she added that Nan was not to be condemned until further proof was secured against her.

Meanwhile Polly O'Neill was really unaware for some time of the actual circ.u.mstances of the case. In the first place Betty had begged that the story be kept from Polly as Nan was her especial protegee, and seeing what a storm had been aroused in camp she herself felt more than sorry ever to have mentioned her loss. Of course Polly heard vaguely that Betty had lost something or other about camp, but she did not know exactly what, but then Betty had so many possessions that she was always losing something. Also she began to suspect, dimly at first, that the girls were in some kind of quandary, but as no one mentioned the cause to her, she felt rather too proud to inquire, besides having a problem of her own on her mind which taxed most of her waking hours, although she too kept her own counsel.

But now a sufficient time had gone by, until the date of the meeting of the August Council Fire had arrived when the original number of Camp Fire members were to be promoted to the rank of Fire-Makers and Esther was to be first of the Sunrise Hill girls to be given the highest Camp Fire t.i.tle--Torch Bearer.

One of Miss McMurtry's plans for her camp was to leave to three girls each month the arrangements for the original features of their Council Fire and in August, the month of the Red or Green Corn Moon, it so happened that Mollie, Eleanor and Edith Norton formed the special committee. Just what their plans were no one knew until the morning before their meeting, not even the camp guardian, or Miss McMurtry might possibly have interfered, although I hardly believe it.

Shortly after breakfast, even before the other girls had a chance to disperse for their morning's work, Eleanor, Mollie and Edith Norton disappeared inside their tents.

Edith had been chosen to help at this meeting rather than any other because she was now having her two weeks' August vacation. Ten minutes later the girls came out again into the open air, arrayed in their ceremonial costumes and carrying three Indian baskets which were solemnly pa.s.sed about from one girl to the other. And these baskets contained invitations to the evening Council Fire painted on bits of birch bark in crimson lettering by Eleanor Meade.

At the top of the scroll were the three words "The Maidens' Feast."

Then below, the invitation read: "Sinopa the Little Sister, Apoi-a-kimi, the Light Hair, and Eleanor, the Painter of Sunrises, invite all the maidens of all the tribes to come and partake of their feast this evening at the close of the regular Council Fire ceremonies. It will be in the Sunrise Camp before the moon reaches the middle sky. All pure maidens are invited."

CHAPTER XIX

THE DISAPPEARANCE

The August moon had never been more radiant, indeed it flooded the Sunrise Camp grounds with a brightness that made it appear almost like day. And now the regular Council Fire proceedings were over and the Indian custom of "The Maidens' Feast" about to begin.

In a circle about a cone-shaped rock, which had been brought with infinite difficulty to its position in the camp grounds, Miss McMurtry and the maidens were seated, each person bearing in her lap a round wooden bowl, while from the smoldering ashes of the Council Fire arose a delicious odor of roasting ears of corn.

But before the feast could be eaten a ceremony of as grave importance to the Camp Fire girls as to the Indian maidens of long ago must take place. Each girl was to take the oath of purity and honor, and then the maidens' song would be sung and four times they would dance around the altar.

No one of the group of Camp Fire members and no more their guardian really knew at first whether in this plan of Eleanor's, Mollie's and Edith's there was any deeper motive than the entertainment of their friends and the revival of an old Indian custom seemingly appropriate and beautiful. But as the details unfolded themselves the suspicion in the minds of most of them grew almost into certainty. Once or twice Miss McMurtry had thought of stopping the proceedings altogether, but then she did not feel satisfied that this method of the three girls for testing the innocence or guilt of their companions was not an admirable one. More than she would have acknowledged, since worry is not permitted in Camp Fire rules, had Miss McMurtry puzzled over what should be done in their present dilemma. Betty's money had certainly disappeared and some one must have stolen it; if not Nan, then who else?

For they had had no guests since Esther and Betty returned with the money from the village post-office.

So by the time Edith Norton, with her light hair hanging loose about her shoulders and a circle of red about her head, stepped forth into the center of the circle, looking unusually white and nervous, there was not but one member of her audience who did not at least partially guess at what was about to take place. And this was of course Polly O'Neill!

For not only did she fail to understand Betty's actual money loss and the suspicion against Nan, but so deeply had she been involved in her own perplexity that she had hardly been aware of anything that had taken place that evening. Now, however, having at last made up her mind to take Miss McMurtry into her confidence when the girls had gone to bed, she did look up with interest at the picturesque figure of Edith.

Near the cone-shaped rock two arrows had been lightly stuck into the ground, this forming a sort of altar to which each maiden must come, touching first the stone and then the arrows as she declares her purity.

As she stood by the side of this altar Edith's voice trembled so that it was with difficulty her first words could be understood. The girls who knew pretty well what to expect understood her immediately, however, but not Polly!

"Sorrow and much uneasiness have lately crept into our midst, my maidens," she announced, trying to preserve a certain likeness to the Indian speech in the form of her words, "and many of us there are who go about heavy of heart because the sin of one of us must be the burden of us all, until guilt is established and the innocent cleared. Some days ago there vanished from the possession of one of us fifty dollars in bank notes enclosed in an envelope containing no address. This money has not been found, but the envelope has been recognized as crumpled up and thrown away a few feet from the tent of its rightful owner. Now no member of the Sunrise Camp can feel it possible that any one of its members has been guilty of this sin and yet no visitor has stepped foot within our camp limits within the time when the deed must have occurred.

Therefore have we three maidens, after deep thought, appointed this evening wherein the innocent may declare her innocence and the wrong- doer confess her sin. For only in confession and by the return of the money can she ever hope to be at peace with herself. Moreover, we believe that no Camp Fire girl will take this oath of purity without telling the entire truth. Betty Ashton will you come forward first."

Betty jumped up quickly. During Edith's long harangue her group of listeners had been supremely uncomfortable, so that no one of them dared do more than barely glance at Nan, who sat with her knees up to her chin, her eyes cast upon the ground and her black hair covering her face like a veil. If she felt, and of course she did, that Edith's speech was directed toward her rather than toward any other girl, neither by a sound nor a movement did she betray it. Not even when Betty, having finished with her part in the ceremony, deliberately forsaking her former place in the circle came back and sitting down next her deliberately laid her arm across Nan's bowed shoulders. There was nothing to do or say, she would only make things worse by any protest now, and yet Betty was bitterly grieved and offended. If Nan had done wrong this public method of making her either confess or perjure herself she felt to be wholly unkind.

So as Nan was in everybody's thoughts during this time no one happened to glance toward Polly O'Neill or, seeing her, to observe anything unusual in her manner or appearance, for Polly also neither moved nor spoke during Edith's recital, although her face turned suddenly white.

Fifty dollars in an envelope, the money in bank notes and the envelope crumpled up and thrown away near their tent! Her discovery in the woods that day had been just this and she herself had thrown away that same envelope. Betty of course had lost the enclosure out of her letter in bringing it home from the post office and, hiding the letter away afterwards, believed the money still there.

Why did not Polly get up and make this announcement at once? It would have been very simple except for one thing, she had spent the money, and in the first moment of surprised horror had no idea how she would ever be able to return it.

Like a good many impetuous people Polly O'Neill sometimes had the misfortune to do her thinking when it was too late. Finding the money in the woods, when she felt she needed it so much, had seemed to her like a miracle, so that it never occurred to her, either that afternoon or evening, that she should have tried to find out to whom the money rightfully belonged before using it, although she had been thinking of little else since then. That this money should have been Betty's of all people, and that it was now her duty to stand up and confess her mistake before her friends.

Polly set her teeth, the circle of girls revolved before her eyes, she had been worrying too much to be either reasonable or well. And at any moment Edith Norton might demand that she step forward and take the oath which was meant to proclaim that she had had nothing to do with the loss of Betty's money. Truly she did not understand that the charge had been directed against poor Nan, so watching her opportunity Polly slipped away without being noticed.

When Nan Graham's name was called from the center of the circle the silence was oppressive. But the girl rose up quietly, pus.h.i.+ng her coa.r.s.e black hair from her face, and as quietly walked forward to the cone-shaped rock where the two arrows were still standing fixed in the ground. Before laying her hand on these objects, however, she stood perfectly still for a moment, letting her accusing eyes sweep from the face of one of her girl judges to the other and then, touching the stone and the arrows, came back quickly to her old place. Not till then did she betray how deeply the atmosphere of distrust and unfaith had hurt her, but when Betty's arm came round her for the second time, she burst into weeping, hiding her face on Betty's shoulder, and hearing her whisper comfortingly: "I believe with all my heart that you know nothing of my wretched money, Nan, and I beg your pardon if I even made you think I suspected you."

Just before the time for Polly to take the oath her absence was discovered, but not until the feast of the corn had actually begun did Mollie and Betty go back to their tent to look for her and they did not return for so long a time that Miss McMurtry, fearing Polly might be ill, rose up to follow them. However, she had only gone a few steps before the two girls joined her.

"We can't find Polly anywhere, Donna," Mollie said in an extremely annoyed tone. "We have looked in all the tents and called and even gone down to the pine grove. What silly mood do you suppose has overtaken her? For the one thing mother most objects to is for Polly to wander off alone at night. She did it once when she was a very little girl."

"Don't worry, Mollie, she is sure to be back in half a minute when she remembers," the older woman replied.

CHAPTER XX

"POLLY"

But Polly did not come back within the hour or indeed all night.

Naturally there was little sleep among the Camp Fire girls or their guardian who imagined all possible tragedies. Miss McMurtry wondered if Polly could have gone down to the lake and in the darkness fallen into the water, but then the moon was s.h.i.+ning brilliantly and she could swim with perfect ease. This idea was only brought on by fear. What had probably happened was that she had wandered off for a walk, lost her way and decided that it was far wiser to spend the night quietly in the woods rather than wear herself out with tramping. When the sunrise came she would return.

With this idea Miss McMurtry comforted and encouraged the girls, for it was impossible that they should do more than search for their companion in the near-by woods and fields. It is true that Betty wanted to attempt to climb Sunrise Hill, taking lanterns with her, fearing that Polly had attempted a short walk and managed to sprain her ankle, and that Esther and Sylvia Wharton were more than anxious to go with her, but Miss McMurtry would not hear of it, having a vision of four lost girls instead of one. There was nothing to do but wait the few hours now until daybreak and then if Polly did not return, properly organize searching parties to seek for her. If the Camp Fire girls had learned anything of scouting methods, this would be their opportunity.

Mollie O'Neill was of course the person who required the tenderest care during the night. She and Polly were closer than other sisters, so unlike in temperament and yet one another's shadows. If only she could have imagined some explanation for her sister's disappearance, for of course everybody knew of Polly's sudden vagaries and yet it was unlike her to be so inconsiderate without cause.

Although Betty Ashton probably understood her friend even better than her sister did, as she sat quietly by Mollie's side for several hours insisting that there was really nothing alarming in Polly's flight and that she would doubtless be both vexed and ashamed of herself in the morning, she too was equally puzzled. For naturally she was not so confident as she pretended, although not until her hour came for rest and after she had actually tumbled into bed did she break down. Then Esther and Sylvia Wharton, who in some strange, quiet fas.h.i.+on seemed a comfort to everyone to-night, had insisted that they relieve Betty's watch with Mollie.

Dropping on her couch, not to sleep but to gain strength for the next day's quest, quite by accident Betty's hand slipped under her pillow.

With a low exclamation, overheard by the other three girls in the tent, she drew out folded square of paper. Her name was on the outside, apparently hurriedly addressed in Polly's handwriting. It read:

DEAR BETTY: