CHAPTER IV
ONE FRIEND LESS
In a moment the rest of the Halsted girls had reached the beach and weregathered about Bessie and Dolly. There was a lot of laughter andexcitement, but it was plain that the girls who had once so utterlydespised the members of the Camp Fire were now heartily andenthusiastically glad to see them. And suddenly Eleanor gave a glad cry.
"Why, Mary Turner!" she said. "Whatever are you doing here? I thoughtyou were going to Europe!"
"I was, until this cousin of mine"--she playfully tapped Marcia on theshoulder--"made me change my plans. I'll have you to understand thatyou're not the only girl who can be a Camp Fire Guardian, EleanorMercer!"
"Well," gasped Eleanor, "of all things! Do you mean that you'veorganized a new Camp Fire?"
"We certainly have--the Halsted Camp Fire, if you please! We're notreally all in yet, but we've got permission now from the NationalCouncil, and the girls are to get their rings to-night at our firstceremonial camp fire. Won't you girls come over and help us?"
"I should say we would!" said Eleanor. "Why, this is fine, Mary! Tell mehow it happened, won't you?"
"It's all your fault--you must know that. The girls have told me allabout the horrid way they acted at Lake Dean, but really, you can'tblame them so much, can you, Nell? It's the way they're brought up--and,well, you went to the school, too, just as I did!"
"I know what you mean," said Eleanor. "It's a fine school, but--"
"That's it exactly--that _but_. The school has got into bad ways, andthese girls were in a fair way to be snobs. Well, Marcia and some of theothers got to thinking things over, and they decided that if the CampFire had done so much for Dolly Ransom and a lot of your girls, it wouldbe a good thing for them, too."
"They're perfectly right, Mary. Oh, I'm ever so glad!"
"So they came to me, and asked me if I wouldn't be their Guardian. Ididn't want to at first--and then I was afraid I wouldn't be any good.But I promised to talk to Mrs. Chester, and get her to suggest someonewho would do, and--"
"You needn't tell me the rest," laughed Eleanor. "I know just whathappened. Mrs. Chester just talked to you in that sweet, gentle way ofhers, and the first thing you knew you felt about as small as a pint ofpeanuts, and as if refusing to do the work would be about as mean asstealing sheep. Now, didn't you?"
Mary laughed a little ruefully.
"You're just right! That's exactly how it happened," she said. "She toldme that no one would be able to do as much with these girls as I could,and then, when she had me feeling properly ashamed of myself, she turnedright around and began to make me see how much fun I would have out ofit myself. So I talked to Miss Halsted, and made her go to see Mrs.Chester--and here we are!"
Suddenly Eleanor collapsed weakly against one of the empty packing boxesthat littered the place, and began to laugh.
"Oh, my dear," she exclaimed, "if you only knew the awful things we werethinking about you before we knew who you were!"
"Why? Do you mean to say that you're snobbish, too, and didn't wantneighbors you didn't know? Like my girls at Lake Dean?"
"No, but we thought you might be kidnappers, or murderers, or fire-bugs,like our last neighbors!"
"Eleanor! Are you crazy--and if you're not, what on earth are youtalking about?"
"I'm not as crazy as I seem to be, Mary. It's only fair to tell you nowthat this beach may be a pretty troubled spot while we're here. We seemto attract trouble just as a magnet attracts iron."
"I think you _are_ crazy, Nell. If you're not, won't you explain whatyou mean?"
"Look at our camp over there, Mary. It's pretty solid and complete,isn't it?"
"I only hope ours looks half as well."
"Well, this morning at sunrise there were just two tents standing.Everything else had been burnt. And I was doing my best to get thepolice or someone from Bay City to rescue two of my girls who wereprisoners on a yacht out there in the cove!"
Mary Turner appealed whimsically to Charlie Jamieson.
"Does she mean it, Charlie?" she begged. "Or is she just trying tostring me?"
"I'm afraid she means it, and I happen to know it's all true, Mary,"said Charlie, enjoying her bewilderment. "But it's a long story. Perhapsyou'd better let it keep until you have put things to rights."
"We'll help in doing that," said Eleanor. "Dolly, run over and get theother girls, won't you? Then we'll all turn in and lend a hand, and itwill all be done in no time at all."
"Indeed you won't!" said Marcia. "We're going to do everythingourselves, just to show that we can."
"There isn't much to do," said Mary Turner, with a laugh. "So youneedn't act as if that were something to be proud of, Marcia. You see, Ithought it was better to take things easily at the start, Eleanor. Theywanted to come here with all the tents and things and set up the camp bythemselves, but I decided it was better to have the harder work done bymen who knew their business."
"You were quite right, too," agreed Eleanor. "That's the way I arrangedthings for our own camp the day we came. To-day we did do the workourselves, but there was a reason for the girls were so excited andnervous about the fire that I thought it was better to give them achance to work off their excitement that way."
"I'm dying to hear all about the fire and what has happened here," saidMary. "But I suppose we'd better get everything put to rights first."
And, though the girls of the new Camp Fire insisted on doing all theactual work themselves, they were glad enough to take the advice of theManasquan girls in innumerable small matters. Comfort, and even safetyfrom illness, in camp life, depends upon the observance of manyseemingly trifling rules.
Gladys Cooper, who, more than any of her companions at Camp Halsted, hadtried to make things unpleasant for the Manasquan girls at Lake Dean,had not been with the first section of the new Camp Fire to reach thebeach. Dolly had inquired about her rather anxiously, for Gladys had nottaken part in the general reconciliation between the two parties ofgirls.
"Gladys?" Marcia said. "Oh, yes, she's coming. She's back in the wagonthat's bringing our suit cases. We appointed her a sort of rear guard.It wouldn't do to lose those things, you know."
"I was afraid--I sort of thought she might not want to come here if sheknew we were here, Marcia. You know--"
"Yes, I _do_ know, Dolly. She behaved worse than any of us, and shewasn't ready to admit it when you girls left Lake Dean. But she's cometo her senses since then, I'm sure. The rest of us made her do that."
Bessie King looked a little dubious.
"I hope you didn't bother her about it, Marcia," she said. "You know wehaven't anything against her. We were sorry she didn't like us, andunderstand that we only wanted to be friends, but we certainly didn'tfeel angry."
"If she was bothered, as you call it, Bessie, it served her good andright," said Marcia, crisply. "We've had about enough of Gladys and hersuperior ways. She isn't any better or cleverer or prettier than anyoneelse, and it's time she stopped giving herself airs."
"You don't understand," said Bessie, with a smile. "She's one of you,and if you don't like the way she acts, you've got a perfect right tolet her know it, and make her just as uncomfortable as you like."
"We did," said Marcia. "I guess she's had a lesson that will teach herit doesn't pay to be a snob."
"Yes, but don't you think that's something a person has to learn forherself, without anyone to teach her, Marcia? I mean, there's only onereason why she could be nice to us, and that's because she likes us. Andyou can't make her like us by punishing her for not liking us. You'llonly make her hate us more than ever."
"She'll behave herself, anyhow, Bessie. And that's more than she didbefore."
"That's true enough. But really, it would be better, if she didn't likeus, for her to show it frankly than to go around with a grudge againstus she's afraid to show. Don't you see that she'll blame us for makingtrouble between you girls and her? She'll think that we've set her ownfriends against her. Really, Marcia, I think all the tro
uble would beended sooner, in the long run, if you just let her alone until shechanged her mind. She'll do it, too, sooner or later."
"I guess Bessie's right, Marcia," said Dolly, thoughtfully. "I don't seewhy Gladys acts this way, but I do think that the only thing that willmake her act differently will be for her to feel differently, andnothing you can do will do that."
"Well, it's too late now, anyhow," said Marcia. "I see what you mean,and I suppose you really are right. But it's done. You'll be nice toher, won't you? She's promised to be pleasant when she sees you--to talkto you, and all that. I don't know how well she'll manage, but I guessshe'll do her best."
"There's no reason why we shouldn't be nice to her," said Bessie. "Sheisn't hurting us. I only hope that something will happen so that we canbe good friends."
"She really is a nice girl," said Marcia, "and I'm awfully fond of herwhen she isn't in one of her tantrums. But she is certainly hard to getalong with when everything isn't going just to suit her little whims."
"Here she comes now," said Dolly. "I'm going to meet her."
"Well, you certainly did give us a surprise, Gladys," cried Dolly. "Yousinner, why didn't you tell us what you were going to do?"
"Oh, hello, Dolly!" said Gladys, coolly. "I didn't see much of you atLake Dean, you know. You were too busy with your--new friends."
"Oh, come off, Gladys!" said Dolly, irritated despite her determinationto go more than half way in re-establishing friendly relations withGladys. "Why can't you be sensible? We've got more to forgive than youhave, and we're willing to be friends. Aren't you going to behavedecently?"
"I don't think I know just what you mean, Dolly," said Gladys, stiffly."As long as the other girls have decided to be friendly withyour--friends, I am not going to make myself unpleasant. But you canhardly expect me to like people just because you do. I must say that Iget along better with girls of my own class."
"I ought to be mad at you, Gladys," said Dolly, with a peal of laughter."But you're too funny! What do you mean by girls of your own class?Girls whose parents have as much money as yours? Mine haven't. So Isuppose I'm not in your class."
"Nonsense, Dolly!" said Gladys, angrily. "You know perfectly well Idon't mean anything of the sort. I--I can't explain just what I mean bymy own class--but you know it just as well as I do."
"I think I know it better, Gladys," said Dolly, gravely. "Now don't getangry, because I'm not saying this to be mean. If you had to go aboutwith girls of your own class you couldn't stand them for a week! Becausethey'd be snobbish and mean. They'd be thinking all the time about howmuch nicer their clothes were than yours, or the other way around. Theywouldn't have a good word for anyone--they'd just be trying to thinkabout the mean things they could say!"
"Why, Dolly! What do you mean?"
"I mean that that's your class--the sort you are. Our girls, in theManasquan Camp Fire, and most of the Halsted girls, are in a class awhole lot better than yours, Gladys. They spend their time trying to benice, and to make other people happy. There isn't any reason why youshouldn't improve, and get into their class, but you're not in it now."
"I never heard of such a thing, Dolly! Do you mean to tell me that youand I aren't in a better class socially than these girls you're campingwith?"
"I'm not talking about society--and you haven't any business to be. Youdon't know anything about it. But if people are divided into realclasses, the two big classes are nice people and people who aren't nice.And each of those classes is divided up again into a lot of otherclasses. I hope I'm in as good a class as Bessie King and MargeryBurton, but I'm pretty sure I'm not. And I know you're not."
"There's no use talking to you, Dolly," said Gladys, furiously. "Ithought you'd had time to get over all that nonsense, but I see you'reworse than ever. I'm perfectly willing to be friends with you, and I'veforgiven you for throwing those mice at us at Lake Dean, but I certainlydon't see why I should be friendly with all those common girls in yourcamp."
"They're not common--and don't you dare to say they are! And youcertainly can't be my friend if you're going to talk about them thatway."
"All right!" snapped Gladys. "I guess I can get along without yourfriendship if you can get along without mine!"
"I didn't mean to," she said, disgustedly, to Bessie and Marcia, "butI'm afraid I've simply made her madder than ever. And there's no tellingwhat she'll do now!"
"Oh, I guess there's nothing to worry about," said Marcia, cheerfullyenough. "We can keep her in order all right, and if she doesn't behaveherself decently I guess you'll find that Miss Turner will send her homein a hurry."
"Oh, I hope not," said Bessie. "That wouldn't really do any good, wouldit? We want to be friends with her--not to have any more trouble."
"I wish I'd kept out of it," said Dolly, dolefully. "I think I can keepmy temper, and then I go off and make things worse than ever! I ought toknow enough not to interfere. I'm like the elephant that killed a littlemother bird by accident, and he was so sorry that he sat on its nest tohatch the eggs!"
"Maybe it's a good thing," said Marcia, laughing at the picture of theelephant. "After all, isn't it a good deal as Bessie said? If there'sbad feeling, it's better to have it open and aboveboard. We all knowwhere we are now, anyhow. And I certainly hope that something will turnup to change her mind."