CHAPTER XXI--A MESSAGE FROM JERRY

Jerry had a second mission to perform, however, which she hailed with anticipation. Cut off by her own obstinacy from former intimacy with her chums and from the work of the day nursery, she was an extremely lonely young person with a great deal of idle time on her hands. Energetic Jerry loathed inaction. She therefore chose Mignon La Salle as her second subject for activity and lay in wait for her.

Two days passed, following her interview with Lucy Warner, before she found the desired opportunity to waylay the French girl. Setting off after school for a lonely session at Sargent's, at the curbstone before the shop she spied Mignon's runabout. Forging gleefully into her favorite haunt, she steered straight for Mignon, who sat in solitary grandeur at a rear table. Catching sight of Jerry, the arch plotter half rose from her chair as though about to make a prudent exit from the place.

"Sit down." Before her quarry could leave the table, Jerry had reached it. "Don't try to dodge _me_. I've been on the watch for you ever since you made trouble for Marjorie Dean. I'm not a Lookout now so I can tell you a few things."

"I won't listen to you." Mignon was now on her feet.

"Oh, yes, you will. If you don't, I'll go to your house and say my say to your father." Jerry looked grimly capable of executing the threat.

Fearful of such a calamity, Mignon reluctantly resumed her seat. "I'm not afraid of _you_," she sneered. "Say quickly what you have to say. I am in a hurry to go home."

"I'm not. Still I don't care to be seen talking with you any longer than I can help." Jerry was brutally rude and she knew it. The time for keeping up appearances was past. "Now this is what I have to say. You are the most disloyal, mischief-making person I've ever known. You have no more right to be a Lookout than that soda-fountain has; my apologies to the soda-fountain. You can't fool me. You never have. I know you like a book. It was on account of you that I left the club. I'll never go back to it until you're out of it."

"You'll wait a long time then." Mignon gave a sarcastic laugh. "I shall stay in the club as long as I please and you can't prevent me."

"I'll do my best," challenged Jerry. "Remember that's a warning. I'm going to make it my business to find out what you told Lucy Warner about Marjorie. When I do you'll hear of it in a way you won't like."

"You'll never find out," taunted Mignon scornfully. "Lucy won't tell you and I certainly shan't. No one else knows." Taken off her guard she had rashly admitted the very thing Jerry was endeavoring to make her say.

"I'm going to know," assured Jerry tersely. "I've already made you say that you did tell Lucy something hateful about Marjorie. Now you can beat it. I've warned you! Oh, yes. If you circulate any more reports in school about Lucy's and my resignations, I'll put a notice on the bulletin board warning the girls to pay no attention to your tales. I'll see that it stays there, too, long enough to do some good." With this parting shot Jerry turned abruptly away and walked out of the shop, her primary desire for ice cream quite forgotten.

As she plodded slowly down the street toward home, Jerry solemnly considered the stubborn stand she had taken against the Lookouts. She was not in the least pleased with herself. To continue to hold herself aloof from Marjorie, in particular, whom she adored, promised to be a dispiriting task. Still she was determined to do it. She argued that to go back to the club and admit that she had been in the wrong would merely make her appear ridiculous. She contemplated her self-exile from her friends with small joy. Over-weening pride, however, caused her to gloomily accept it. Her sole consolation lay in the thought that unbeknown to her chums she would further their mutual interests in every possible way. The idea of thus becoming an unsuspected source of good to them, held for her a morbid fascination. While they believed her to be antagonistic, she would secretly be just the opposite. This beneficent but somewhat absurd resolution was exactly what one might expect from Jerry.

Though she could not know it, it was the precise conclusion at which her chums had already arrived. They knew her better than she knew herself. When she had deliberately ignored Irma's friendly note, her five chums had consulted earnestly together regarding what they had best do. Irma and Constance proposed that the five should visit her in a body, in an endeavor to win her back. Muriel, Susan and Marjorie opposed such a measure. "It wouldn't do the least bit of good," Muriel had emphatically declared.

Marjorie had quietly echoed Muriel's opinion, adding: "Let dear old Jerry alone, girls. She must work out her own salvation. When she comes back to us it must be of her own free will. She hasn't really left us, you know. She'll always be a Lookout, heart and hand."

As December rushed on its snowy way toward the holiday season, it became somewhat difficult for Marjorie to practice what she had preached. Jerry's desertion left a huge blank in her life that could not be filled. The brusque, good-humored stout girl had formerly been her most ardent supporter in making Christmas merry for the poor of Sanford. The little folks at the day nursery loudly bewailed her absence from their midst.

Mrs. Macy and Hal, who had learned the deplorable circumstances from Jerry's own lips, held more than one energetic but futile argument with her in an effort to reduce her to reason. She met these earnest admonitors with an unyielding stolidity that caused them both to retire from the field in disgust. Whenever she chanced to meet her chums she greeted them with a cool civility that was infinitely more annoying than no greeting would have been. She marched defiantly to and from school by herself, preferring her own company to that of the Sanford High students outside the intimate circle of girls in which she had once moved.

She made but one exception to them. She was occasionally seen in company with Veronica Browning. The mystery surrounding the latter fascinated her. Then, too, she greatly admired this delightful girl. Although Veronica had learned of Jerry's self-made Coventry, she never referred to it when with the latter. From Marjorie, who had been quick to note Jerry's predilection for Veronica, she had received instructions to do all she could to lighten the young rebel's self-imposed burden. Of her own free will she had offered her services in Jerry's place at the day nursery. She had calmly informed the belligerent of her intention before doing so. Jerry had stared hard at her and merely said: "Go ahead and do it. You won't hurt my feelings. Are you sure you can spare the time?" Veronica had answered in the affirmative and the subject had been immediately dropped.

The week preceding Christmas saw the Lookouts deep in preparations for the day of days. There was to be a wonderful gift-laden tree at the nursery for the children, and the usual yearly task of supplying the Sanford poor folks with holiday cheer was also carried on with a will. Marjorie's home became a headquarters for the tireless workers and the Lookouts spent many fruitful and pleasant hours there. Even Mignon condescended to lend her presence on one or two occasions and surprised her companions by actually doing a little work. Since her encounter with Jerry she had been extremely ill at ease. She had a coward's respect for the plain-spoken stout girl, and she now stood more in fear of her than ever. The very day after Jerry had accosted her in Sargent's her father had promised her an expensive electric limousine as a commencement present, provided she conducted herself in exemplary fashion until then. Mignon had therefore decided to walk softly until this prize was safely in her possession.

Christmas came and went, leaving behind for Marjorie the usual liberal amount of remembrances from her friends. It was a less happy Christmas, however, than that of the previous year. Jerry's desertion weighed heavily upon her. The two girls had always exchanged holiday gifts and calls. This year, determined to make no exception, Marjorie had selected and sent her usual good-will present to Jerry. Irma, Constance, Susan, Muriel, Harriet and Esther Lind had done likewise. From Jerry they had received nothing in return except their own gifts. Each package contained a card, on each of which had appeared the same Jerry-like message: "Keep this and send it to me later. Mignon may not always be a Lookout."

This pertinent message provoked a certain amount of merriment on the part of the recipients. Nevertheless, an undertone of sadness lurked in the laughter. Jerry was Jerry and could not be imitated, duplicated nor replaced. They had missed her sorely at the gay round of parties that filled their holidays. Her unexpected state of rebellion had also completely upset her brother Hal's plans for the Macys' usual Christmas dance. He and Jerry exchanged sharp words over what he termed her "bull-headedness" and for two weeks afterward they were not on speaking terms. All in all Jerry passed a most doleful Yuletide season for which she had only herself to blame.