CHAPTER VIII--THE RULE OF RULES

The fourth and last officer to be elected was the secretary, and this honor fell to gentle Irma Linton. Ever modest and self-effacing, Irma was even more greatly surprised at her own election than Mignon had been when Constance Stevens had suddenly declared herself.

"Will the four distinguished officers please come forward and stand in a row and receive the congratulations of the humble members?" requested Marjorie gaily. "After that I will conduct them to their official stations and let them run the meeting."

Several minutes of merry talk and handshaking went on before Jerry assumed the scepter of office and called the meeting to order again. Mignon and Irma had now been given seats at the big library table at one end of the room. Muriel had moved her chair to the front, placing it a little to one side of where Jerry stood.

"Ahem!" ejaculated Jerry, then giggled. "As president of this club, it now becomes my duty to discuss with you a number of rules and regulations to which this distinguished organization must pledge themselves to live up. In the first place, you will all be taxed with dues. You are lucky to be charter members and thus avoid the payment of initiation fees. Now the question is how much are you willing to pay per week or per year or any other old per for your glorious privilege of membership. Now don't all speak at once, and don't be stingy. Remember, we are as yet a very poor and struggling concern. We have only one consolation. We needn't hire a hall. We can meet at one another's houses and thus practice thrift. Now let's have a little informal discussion about it."

"I think the per week idea would be nice." Harriet Delaney rose promptly to the financial situation. "We could give so much each week when we came to the meeting. Mignon could have our names on a book just as the grammar school teachers keep a register. Then when we first came into the room where the meeting is held we could give her our money and she could credit us with it on her book. It's easier to give a little each week than to have to save it up and pay it all at one time. We wouldn't even miss it, for we are always spending small sums for candy and ice cream and moving pictures and such things. We ought to look at our club as an amusement and be willing to pay for it accordingly. Then, too, the money will be used to do good with."

"That is a very sensible plan," agreed Muriel Harding. "How much do you suppose we ought to give? I am willing to spend at least a quarter a week on the club."

"I'd never miss a quarter, either," affirmed Jerry Macy. "That's letting us off easy. Don't you think so, Marjorie?"

Marjorie was about to answer in the affirmative. Sudden remembrance of Lucy Warner checked her reply. Among the fourteen girls present that evening, Lucy Warner alone would be unable to spare that weekly sum. Hastily dividing 52 by 4 she realized that thirteen dollars would be a rather large slice out of Lucy's savings toward a college education. She wondered now whether she had been wholly wise in even asking Lucy to make one of an organization of girls who squandered weekly perhaps more than poor Lucy could save in a month.

"I think it would be better to set the dues at ten cents per week," she said slowly. "We will always be sure to pay that much. At that rate we'd be paying $5.20 a year apiece, and in many clubs the yearly dues are not more than that. Of course, we are anxious to put some money in our treasury as soon as we can. If any of you feel like paying a year's dues in advance, so much the better for the club treasury. What we ought to do is to give an entertainment of some kind and earn quite a lot of money all at once. Almost any one in Sanford would be willing to contribute to a good cause. The Rebellious Princess netted us over five hundred dollars for the library. We could give a fair or a play or something and have a splendid time doing it, not to mention the money we'd earn."

"But suppose we do something like that and make a lot of money, what are we going to do with the money?" asked Florence Johnston.

"Give it to anyone who needs it," responded Marjorie. "As Lookouts we must poke around and find some good use for our money. There are always plenty of very poor people in Sanford who need help. Captain and Mrs. Macy went this evening to see a man who was hurt in an explosion. Now that he is so sick, he can't work and he and his family have nothing to live on. There are lots of such cases right here in this city. For two years at Christmas time a number of we girls have tried to give the very poor folks a Merry Christmas. The club can do things like that. There might be some girl in our own school who would some day need our help. We'll just have to keep our eyes open and find out where our help is needed."

After a little further discussion, the girls agreed that the weekly sum of ten cents each would be satisfactory, at least for a beginning. Secretly two or three of them wondered at Marjorie's unwillingness to give more than that. They had always supposed her to be very generous. Mignon, in particular, was delighted at discovering, at last, what she regarded as a great flaw in Marjorie Dean's character. She mentally stored it away as a delectable bit of gossip to be circulated at her pleasure.

Having been provided with notebook and fountain pen, Irma busied herself with setting down the results of the various discussions regarding rules and regulations, which followed rapidly upon that of the dues. Once these points had been finally settled they were to be incorporated in a typed list and each girl was to receive a copy of the list.

Thus far during the meeting, nothing save the actual business of the club had been talked over. The object of the Lookouts, their dues, the time and place of meeting, these and other similarly important details had been gone over, each assuming the form of a set rule. The ethical side of the club had not yet been touched upon. As president it now became Jerry's duty to introduce the delicate subject which she and Marjorie had confidentially gone over together on the previous day. This was a contingency on which blunt, good-humored Jerry had not reckoned. She had had a fixed idea that Marjorie would be elected president of the club, and had depended on her to lay down that one special rule of conduct that was intended to quiet Mignon's too-garrulous tongue. Now it appeared that the task devolved upon herself. Yet she did not feel equal to it. She knew that her brusque fashion of speaking was likely to arouse instant aggression on Mignon's part.

Her round, blue eyes significantly fixed on Marjorie, she now addressed the gathering with: "Is there anything else you can think of that ought to be added to the rules of our club? If there is----" She paused, continuing to stare at Marjorie with an expression of positive pleading on her plump face.

Marjorie read the glance aright and rose to Jerry's aid. Drawing a long breath she said with a gravity that brought all eyes to bear upon her: "Girls, there is one rule that we ought to make and live up to if we hope to become useful to others. It is the good old Golden Rule. 'Do unto others as you would that they should do unto you.' It means to be absolutely loyal in thought, word and deed, to everyone with whom we come in contact. Then we may hope for an equal amount of loyalty in return. Of course we expect to be loyal to one another. Otherwise there would be no use in forming this club. But we must be specially careful to give outsiders a perfectly square deal. If ever we expect to hand down our sorority to those who come after us, we must offer them an unblurred escutcheon. After all, it is the little things we say and do that often amount to the most for or against us.

"As our club becomes better known, the eyes of the other girls at Sanford High School will be turned upon us. We can't afford to do or say anything that will cause them to criticize us. We must carry ourselves so honorably that we shall be beyond criticism. That's why I think the Lookouts should adopt the Golden Rule for their very own and try always to keep it."

A vigorous clapping of hands followed Marjorie's earnest little speech, accompanied by, "Good for you, Marjorie," "The Golden Rule for the Lookouts," "You couldn't have chosen a better one," and various other bursts of girlish enthusiasm. Marjorie's sweet face grew rosy at the tributes that were hurled at her from all sides. She had guessed that, with the exception of Mignon, the girls would heartily echo her sentiments. A swift, uncontrollable flash of curiosity to see in what spirit the French girl had received her little talk, impelled her reluctant gaze to center itself upon Mignon.

The latter's face was a study. True her lips were curved in a smile intended to convey an amiable acceptance of the measures which Marjorie had so conscientiously advocated, but her black eyes glowed with a threatening light that belied her smiling lips. Within the guileful French girl's breast seethed a turmoil of conflicting emotions. Had she joined this silly club and accepted an office in it only to find that she had been trapped into pledging herself to become a goody-goody like Marjorie Dean? It looked very much as though she had done precisely that very thing. She reflected angrily that she might have known better. Personally, she was not in the least interested in putting herself out to help others. If certain persons in Sanford were so poor they hadn't enough to eat and wear it was none of her concern. The club no doubt would turn out to be as prosy an affair as all the other regulation charitable organizations in Sanford. She had a wild desire to spring from her chair, tell these stupid girls that they were all babies and rush from the house.

Yet there was her office of treasurer to be considered. At last she was in a fair way toward becoming popular. Then, too, these same babyish girls were vastly important pupils of Sanford High. Third, there was the question of her stern father to be considered. As a member of the Lookout Club, she would be in high favor with him. Perhaps, after all, it would pay her to pretend to a loyalty which formed no part of her tricky, faithless composition. Later on, if she found the club unendurable, she could easily drop out of it. As for the much-vaunted Golden Rule, let the others live up to it as much as they chose. It should not trouble her in the least. She had ever been a law unto herself and she would always remain one.