CHAPTER XII

THE BOY SCOUTS’ DEMONSTRATION

During the next few days, the excitement which usually preceded pledge-day was felt over the school, and in this instance, it was even more intense; for almost every girl at Miss Allen’s felt that she had a chance to become a Girl Scout,--if not right away, at least at some future date. Ruth had sent for more handbooks; the copies went the rounds, and were read and re-read. The uniform proved to be a constant topic of interest, and more than one girl wrote home to ask for the money to buy it, in case she was chosen.

Miss Landis noticed a decided improvement in the girls’ lessons, and remarked about it to Miss Allen. Miss Phillips, too, appreciated the added zeal with which the girls attended unrequired practices.

At last Ruth was happy. She had started something worth while; no doubt the whole student body, as well as the teachers, would look to her constantly as a benefactor. She realized, too, that she had dealt the most decided blow to the sorority that it had ever received. She dreamed of its annihilation, and pictured herself always as the leader of its more popular successor.

Marjorie, too, was happy. For weeks she had felt a sort of unrest, as if she were standing still while the rest of the world progressed. Lily’s accounts of the Friday evenings in Miss Phillips’s room had deepened this feeling. But now that she had made her decision, the outlook before her seemed brighter.

On Wednesday evening, during dinner, it was whispered that Miss Allen was going to read the list of candidates for the troop very soon; and one of the seniors told Ruth that she had seen her carry a paper into the dining-room.

The girl was correct in her supposition; for as soon as dessert had been served, Miss Allen rose from her chair. The girls stopped eating, and waited in breathless attention.

“First of all,” she began, “I want to tell you that on Friday evening the Senior Patrol of the Boy Scouts from Episcopal Academy are coming over to give us a demonstration of Scouting. We will hold the meeting in the assembly room, and everybody is invited. But only the candidates whose names I read will be invited over to the gymnasium afterwards to serve refreshments with Miss Phillips.”

She paused for a moment, and the girls clapped in approval.

“I am sorry the list of candidates is so small,” she continued; “but you see we decided on such strict qualifications, there were only seven girls eligible. But this was partly due to the fact that the school swimming team hasn’t been made up yet--class teams don’t count--and we had only the hockey members to select from. And, of course, many of those girls were down in their studies. But Miss Phillips hopes to pick the swimming team soon, so we shall have more girls to choose from.”

Miss Allen put on her glasses, and reached for a paper on the table. Without further explanation, she read out the names--

“Senior Class--Dorothy Maxwell.

“Junior Class---Edith Evans, Helen Stewart.

“Sophomore Class--Frances Wright, Ethel Todd, Marian Guard.

“Freshman Class--Lily Andrews.”

Miss Allen sat down. For a minute the girls could only gasp; then the room buzzed with animated voices.

Ruth turned to the senior next to her. “There must be some mistake,” she said. “Why, I started the whole thing!”

“You aren’t on the school hockey team, are you?” asked the other girl.

“No, that’s so,” admitted Ruth; “I guess I was counting on the class swimming team. But, believe me, I’ll make the school swimming team, you just see!”

Unlike Ruth, Marjorie said nothing about her disappointment. But she was surprised that her name was not on the list; for being a hockey team member, she had expected to be a candidate. “They have Girl Scouts, and I am not one!” she said over and over to herself. “Maybe I ought to have stayed in ΦΑΒ,” she thought. “It isn’t too late yet.”

But Marjorie was not a girl to go back on her word; she had resigned, though they had not accepted her resignation, and she would abide by her decision. It must have been her Latin that kept her out, she concluded, and she resolved to work harder in that branch in the future.

After supper, Ruth came over to Marjorie’s room and found her congratulating Lily.

“I don’t know how I ever did it,” said Lily. “But I’m so glad--if only Miss Phillips is our Captain. Do you think she will be?”

“You are allowed to elect whoever you want,” said Ruth. “And I guess it will be Miss Phillips or Miss Landis. They seem to be about the most popular teachers in the school.”

“They deserve to be!” exclaimed Marjorie. “Especially Miss Phillips--I think she’s wonderful!”

“I certainly am surprised you didn’t make it, Marj,” said Ruth. “Of course, when they decided on that team business, I knew I couldn’t,” she lied.

“I thought they’d count the class swimming team,” said Lily. “Why, we can’t really start till we have eight girls, for you need at least that number for a troop.”

“Miss Phillips expects to pick the swimming team to-morrow,” said Marjorie.

“How do you know?” asked Ruth.

“She told me.”

“Oh, I’m going in swimming before breakfast, if she’ll let me!”

Marjorie smiled. “You’ll make the team, Ruth,” she said. “But how are your lessons?”

“All right, I guess. Now would you rather belong to the Girl Scouts or ΦΑΒ, Marjorie?”

“I am resigning from ΦΑΒ on Friday, Ruth.”

“But you weren’t one of the candidates for the troop!”

“I know--but I want to help abolish the sorority.”

“Oh, Marj, you’re a peach!” exclaimed Ruth, with genuine admiration.

Friday evening came. The sorority girls had their meeting immediately after supper, and adjourned in time to see the Boy Scouts’ demonstration. The same six girls held to their resolutions to resign, and Marian Guard and Ethel Todd joined their ranks. Eight girls were left; if one more resigned, the sorority would have to dissolve.

According to her promise Miss Phillips came to the meeting; but she was late, and found that there was really nothing for her to do. Marjorie and the others had definitely made up their minds; so they contented themselves with asking the teacher a few questions about the troop, and adjourned early.

When the ΦΑΒ girls reached the assembly room, they found it already crowded. At two minutes of eight, a drum and a bugle sounded in march time, and a flag bearer, carrying the American flag, and followed by eight Boy Scouts, in double file, marched up the aisle to the platform. They held their heads high, and their shoulders back; and as they marched, they looked neither to the right nor to the left. One or two of the freshmen giggled, but the boys maintained the discipline of soldiers. Marjorie looked for John Hadley, and saw him at the head of the line.

They reached the platform, and halted at the command of their patrol leader. At the words: “Left, FACE!” they all turned to the front; the flag bearer and the color guards on each side stepped forward. Then the scouts pledged allegiance to the flag, after which the flag bearer and the guards returned to their places in the line.

At the signal from John, they all repeated the Scout oath and recited the twelve Boy Scout laws. Then all the other boys sat down, and John stepped forward. The girls rather expected him to be nervous, but he seemed to have complete control of himself. He looked straight into their eager faces, and told them what the Scouts were about to do.

“We are honored to be asked here by Miss Allen, and we are glad to welcome our sister Scouts in this school,” he said. “We look forward to lots of good times with you. We want you to enjoy our cabin in the woods, and we will be glad to teach you anything we know. We even hope to have a baseball game with the troop. And we promise to wear skirts, if you will lend them to us!”

He was rewarded with a laugh at his suggestion. “Now,” he continued, “we are here to-night to show you some of the ordinary things Scouts do. You saw our opening meeting and heard our promise and our laws. You know our salute. Now we will show you some signalling.”

Two of the boys stepped forward; one went down the steps.

“Will someone in the room please write Russell Henderson, the Scout on the platform, a message? Then he will signal it, and the Scout at the end of the room will receive it.”

Miss Phillips wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to John. He gave it to Russell, who signaled it in semaphore with two flags, which fairly seemed to fly from one position to the next; and in a minute, the Scout at the end of the room read out:

“We thank the Boy Scouts of Episcopal for their help.”

Miss Phillips said that the message was correct. Everyone clapped.

John then asked for another message, and Frances Wright handed him one. With the Scout still at the end of the room, Russell took out a tiny telegraph instrument and tapped out sounds which were meaningless to the girls, but which were evidently intelligible to David Conner, the Scout at the rear, for he read out:

“Girl Scouts want to learn signalling.”

“That is right,” said Frances.

“Now we will show you some First-Aid work.”

All the boys except John took part in this--four acting as doctors, and four serving as patients. They put on the head-cap, the spiral-reverse, the five-finger bandage, and the triangular arm-sling. After they had finished these, they demonstrated resuscitation, fireman’s-lift, and the making of a stretcher. The girls watched breathlessly, and clapped heartily when it was over.

Then two Scouts stepped forward and did what seemed to the girls a truly marvelous thing: they put down a big sheet of tin and made a fire without any matches. They did this by using the method of the Indians: a wooden bow-drill rotated until the friction produced heat sufficient to ignite the fuel. When finally it burst into flames, there was a great shout of applause.

John ended by thanking the girls for their attention, saying that he hoped all the girls present would eventually become Scouts.

Miss Allen thanked the boys, and invited them to the gymnasium to meet the girls who were candidates. The rest of the school were dismissed to return to their rooms.

It was a much envied little group that followed Miss Allen out of the room, and more than one girl resolved to perfect her studies or her athletics in order to be among the favored few in the future.

Ruth sought Marjorie, and the girls went out together, closer in spirit than they had been for several months, due probably to their common misfortune at being left out of the happy number.

“And to think,” said Ruth, “that Lily Andrews is inside the favored circle, and we are both outside!”