The Girl Scouts of the Round Table 17

The Girl Scouts of the Round Table 17

Yet no one could be less spoiled than Margaret or more unselfish; a

part of this was her own nature, another part her mother’s thoughtful

training.

 

Personally Margaret felt humble in the depth of her sincere and

beautiful nature. Her possessions she realized were not herself nor

due to her own accomplishments. Individually she believed herself less

clever and less gifted than most of the girls in her own Patrol.

 

Louise Miller possessed none of her material and spiritual advantages.

She was poor and not congenial with her own family, yet Margaret

believed had a stronger nature and rarer talents than she expected to

possess.

 

This afternoon the small space in front of Louise’s home looked

especially barren and ugly. Two small boys were fighting. They stopped

at Margaret’s approach, more interested in her than in battle.

 

After ringing the front door bell Margaret thought she heard a

querulous voice in the hall, fretfully scolding some one. She could

not be sure who it was until Mrs. Miller herself opened the front door,

appearing tired and dispirited.

 

At the sight of the visitor her face brightened. She asked her in the

parlor without mentioning her arrival to Louise.

 

Margaret was annoyed. She had not come to call upon Mrs. Miller and was

not interested in what she was saying, although she thought her pretty

in a faded fashion.

 

When Louise’s strong, almost ugly face appeared at the open door,

Margaret thought her handsomer than her mother, so important was her

undoubted strength of character.

 

As a matter of principle Mrs. Miller always objected to Louise’s going

away from home in search of amusement. This afternoon on Margaret’s

account she did not protest seriously. She preferred Margaret to

Dorothy McClain as Louise’s friend, for one reason because Louise

was not so absorbed in Margaret. Another, because Mr. Hale possessed

greater wealth than Dr. McClain.

 

Slowly Margaret and Louise walked on toward an entirely different

quarter of the village. Louise confessed that she had been so busy at

home during the past week that she had no time for outside work. The

younger children had been suffering from colds and been difficult. She

had been trying to keep them amused to spare her mother as much as

possible.

 

Apparently Louise did not consider that she had thus accomplished her

Scout duty. Margaret insisted upon it, and tried to induce Louise to

appreciate the fact.

 

By and by the girls talked no more of themselves or of their Scouting

in their interest in the unfamiliar surroundings.

 

Most of the cottages in the factory district were new and clean. Near

the large factory buildings the dilapidated tenement houses looked gray

and battered.

 

The girls knew Edith’s street and house number and were glad to

discover that her home was one of the new cottages.

 

The yard was larger and more attractive than Louise’s.

 

In the small space a garden half of vegetables, half flowers,

flourished in the summer time; now with the winter the yard revealed

only a few hardy shrubs and several small fruit trees with bare, thin

branches.

 

Edith herself was responsible for the garden. Until her family moved

into Westhaven she had lived upon a small farm where her father had

not been successful. Edith still believed she preferred the country to

the village, except that the village gave her the chance to be a member

of the Eagle’s Wing Troop of Girl Scouts.

 

Instead of going indoors the girls continued their walk. They were

frank in explaining to Edith that they wished to investigate the

neighborhood and to ask the benefit of her opinion.

 

Westhaven was only a small village, yet Margaret and Louise were

astonished at their ignorance of the factory neighborhood.

 

In the winter afternoon the smoke of the huge chimneys ascended in

long, dark columns; there was little wind blowing, but a sultriness

that might mean a storm later on.

 

Edith had been prompt in her reply to the other girls’ question.

 

Not far off was a school a dozen yards from one of the largest

factories in the village. Among the children there were always some who

needed aid.

 

Now that the girls of her Patrol had learned to understand Edith Linder

they had made this discovery: What had appeared to be sullenness and

lack of appreciation of friendliness was shyness. She had never known

any girls intimately until her arrival in Westhaven. The little farm

where she had spent her childhood had been some distance from any other

and she some years older than her own brothers and sisters. During

the summer in Beechwood Forest the other Girl Scouts had learned that

Edith’s gifts were practical. She was strong and capable, although

lacking certain refinements she never had the chance to acquire until

her contact with her Patrol of Girl Scouts. She learned from them, and

equally they would be able to learn from her.

 

Following Edith’s suggestion, Margaret Hale stopped and called Joan

Peters and Martha Greaves, the English Girl Guide, on the telephone.

 

They would be interested in their expedition. Tory and Dorothy she knew

to be busy elsewhere. The fact of Dorothy’s departure to New York she

had not heard.

 

“She and Martha were just starting out for a walk,” Joan reported, “and

would be with them in a few moments.”

 

The little group walked on in a more leisurely fashion, waiting for

their companions, whom they were to meet on an appointed corner.

 

It was now about three o’clock in the afternoon of a day that was to be

long remembered in Westhaven.

 

The streets were comparatively empty. At this hour the employees in the

factories were particularly absorbed by their work, with lunch over and

the afternoon still in its early hours.

 

The three Girl Scouts were able to walk abreast without troubling any

one, moving aside if it became necessary.

 

Near a shirt factory not far from the corner where the friends had

agreed to meet, Edith Linder paused.

 

“In there my mother and father are at work,” she explained. “I may have

to work there some day myself, but I shall never like it. I only care

for a farm and outdoor occupations.”

 

“Well, then, marry a farmer, Edith,” Margaret Hale said laughingly.

 

“Perhaps I will if I have a chance,” Edith answered.

 

Louise looked more serious.

 

“Suppose we live together, Edith! You and I who love the outdoors in

such different fashion. Yours is certainly the sensible one. I have

such a grubby attitude, wanting only to poke around and study the

trees and soil, never to make things grow.

 

“Why is the smoke coming out of that side wall of the factory? Do you

suppose trash is being burned over there?”

 

Idly Louise spoke, with no special interest in her voice and a little

surprised by her own discovery. Ordinarily she was not as observant as

she should be.

 

The other girl’s hand closed on her arm until the tightness of her hold

was uncomfortable.

 

“What is it, Edith?” Margaret Hale asked anxiously. She had not

listened to the conversation for the last few seconds.

 

There was no immediate reply, but the tension in Edith Linder’s face

and figure was plain to her companions.

 

“It is nothing, I suppose, I was a little afraid of a fire,” Edith

returned. “I think one often is in a factory neighborhood. I suppose I

am more fearful because I have lived in the country.”

 

Undoubtedly the smoke was increasing, yet neither Louise nor Margaret

was alarmed. Gusts of smoke frequently appear in unexpected places

to an outsider’s eyes and usually can be traced to a natural source.

Inside the factory the occupants must be aware of what was taking

place. The wind was now blowing in occasional gusts and probably

forcing the smoke in varying directions.

 

The two girls started to move on past the factory building.

 

Edith held them back.

 

“Not for a moment, please, not until I can be sure. Will you wait here?

I think I had best go to the front door and inquire what is the matter.

You see, I know the manager and it will be all right.”

 

This time Edith was walking on alone, when Louise called out sharply:

 

“Edith, there _is_ a fire! Don’t go nearer.”

 

That instant a flame had leaped upward, showing scarlet against the

window.

 

Margaret and Louise heard a curious commingling of sounds they

were never to forget. Edith had broken away and was running with

outstretched arms and lowered head toward the narrow door opening into

the factory office.

 

Came the noise of an explosion, then muffled cries from within the

building, growing in volume, and echoed by the inhabitants of the

nearby cottages and tenements.

 

A bell pealed somewhere. Several men rushed by on the way to give the alarm.