Two girls kissing in the woods

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Sisters give each other a kiss. Look at you! You're nicer than any of them, but they don't have any more to do with you than with me.

It's because we're poor. They know that I haven't got time to play with them, and that I can't ask them here, or go to their houses if they ask me.

Some time — ". You never get angry at all. You act as if you ought to be grateful to Maw Hoover for looking after you. Don't she make you work like a hired girl, and pay you nothin' for it?

You work all the time — she'd have to pay a hired girl good wages for what you do, and treat her decently, beside.

You're so nice that everyone picks on you, just 'cause they know they can do it and you won't hit back. Glad of a chance to rest a little, Bessie had stopped her work to talk to Zara, and neither of the two girls heard a stealthy rustling among the leaves back of the woodshed, nor saw a grinning face that appeared around the corner.

The first warning that they had that they were not alone came when a long arm reached out suddenly and a skinny, powerful hand grasped Zara's arm and dragged her from her perch.

Let her go this instant! Aren't you ashamed of yourself, hurtin' her like that? Zara, caught off her guard, had soon collected herself, and begun to struggle in his grasp like the wild thing she was.

But Jake Hoover only laughed, leering at the two girls. He was a tall, lanky, overgrown boy of seventeen, and he was enjoying himself thoroughly.

He seemed to have inherited all his mother's meanness of disposition and readiness to find fault and to take delight in the unhappiness of others.

Now, as Zara struggled, he twisted her wrist to make her stop, and only laughed at her cries of pain. She isn't hurting you!

I'm too sick to do any work tonight. He made a face that he thought was comical. Zara, realizing that she was helpless against his greater strength, had stopped struggling, and he turned on her suddenly with a vicious glare.

They're just picking on him because he's a foreigner and can't talk as well as some of them — ". And despite her renewed struggling and Bessie's tearful protests, he kept his word, thrusting her into the woodshed and locking the great padlock on the door, while she screamed in futile rage, and kicked wildly at the door.

If she finds you in there, she'll give you a beating, just like she said. I've got to go churn some milk into butter now, but I'll be back as soon as ever I can.

Don't you worry! I'll get you out of there all right. I'm so worried about what he said about my father. It can't be true — but how would he ever think of such a story?

I want to get home and find out. And, stirred to a greater anger than she had ever felt by Jake Hoover's bullying of poor Zara, she went off to attend to her churning.

Jake, as a matter of fact, was responsible for a good deal of Bessie's unhappiness. As a child he had been sickly, and he had continued, long after he had outgrown his weakness, and sprouted up into a lanky, raw-boned boy, to trade upon the fears his parents had once felt for him.

Among boys of his own age he was unpopular. He had early become a bully, abusing smaller and weaker boys. Bessie he had long made a mark for his sallies of wit.

He taunted her interminably about the way her father and mother had left her; he pulled her hair, and practiced countless other little tricks that she could not resent.

His father tried to reprove him at times, but his mother always rushed to his defence, and in her eyes he could do no wrong.

She upheld him against anyone who had a bad word to say concerning him — and, of course, Bessie got undeserved rebukes for many of his misdeeds.

He soon learned that he could escape punishment by making it seem that she had done things of which he was accused, and, as his word was always taken against hers, no matter what the evidence was, he had only increased his mother's dislike for the orphaned girl.

The whole village shared Maw Hoover's dislike of Zara and her father. He had settled down two or three years before in an abandoned house, but no one seemed to understand how he lived.

He disappeared for days at a time, but he seemed always to have money enough to pay his way, although never any more. And in the village there were dark rumors concerning him.

Gossip accused him of being a counterfeiter, who made bad money in the abandoned house he had taken for his own, and that seemed to be the favorite theory.

And whenever chickens were missed, dark looks were cast at Zara and her father. He looked like a gypsy, and he would never answer questions about himself.

That was enough to condemn him. Bessie finished her churning quickly, and then went back, hoping either to make Jake relent or find some way of releasing the prisoner in the woodshed.

But she could see no sign of Jake. The summer afternoon had become dark. In the west heavy black clouds were forming, and as Bessie looked about it grew darker and darker.

Evidently a thunder shower was approaching. That meant that Maw Hoover would hurry home. If she was to help Zara she must make haste.

Jake, it seemed, had the only key that would open the padlock and Bessie, though she knew that she would be punished for it, determined to try to break the lock with a stone.

She told Zara what she meant to do, and set to work. It was hard work, but her fingers were willing, and Zara's frightened pleading, as the thunder began to roar, and flashes of lightning came to her through the cracks in the woodshed, urged her on.

And then, just as she was on the verge of success, she heard Jake's coarse laugh in her ear. He stood in the kitchen door, and, as she turned, something fell, hissing, at her feet.

She started back, terrified. Jake laughed, and threw another burning stick at her. He had taken a shovelful of embers from the fire, and now he tossed them at her so that she had to dance about to escape the sparks.

It was a dangerous game, but one that Jake loved to play. He knew that Bessie was afraid of fire, and he had often teased her in that fashion.

But suddenly Bessie shrieked in real terror. As yet, though the approaching storm blackened the sky, there was no rain. But the wind was blowing almost a gale, and Bessie saw a little streamer of flame run up the side of the woodshed.

And she unlocked the padlock and let Zara, terrified by the fire, out. But Jake stood there stupidly, and fanned by the wind, the flames spread rapidly.

But she saw in his scared face that he would tell any lie that would save him from the consequences of his recklessness.

And with a sob of fright she turned to Zara. And Bessie, too frightened and tired to think much, suddenly yielded to her fright, and ran with Zara out into the woods.

They stuck to the woods to avoid meeting Maw Hoover on her way home, and as the first big drops pattered down among the trees Zara called a halt.

We'll get awful wet if we go on now. Bessie, shivering with fright, and half minded, even now, to turn back and take any punishment Maw Hoover chose to give her, looked up through the trees.

The lightning was flashing. She turned back — and the glare of the burning woodshed helped her to make up her mind to stay with Zara. As they looked the fire, against the black background of the storm, was terrifying in the extreme.

How did he set it on fire? He knows I hate that — he's done it before. I can always get out of the way. He doesn't throw them very near me, really.

But two or three times the sparks have burned holes in my dress and Maw Hoover's been as mad as she could be.

So she thinks anyhow that I play around the fire, and she'd never believe I didn't do it. It seems to me it's brighter than ever.

And listen — when it isn't thundering. Don't you hear a noise as if someone was shouting back there? I hope the fire hasn't spread and reached the house, Bessie.

But it's not my fault, anyhow. You and I know that, even if no one believes us. It was Jake Hoover who did it, and he'll be punished for it some time, I guess, whether his maw ever finds it out or not.

They waited a few minutes longer for the rain to stop, and then, as it grew lighter, they began to move on. They could see a heavy cloud of smoke from the direction of the farmhouse, but no more flames, and now, as the thunder grew more and more distant, they could hear shouting more plainly.

Evidently help had come — Paw Hoover, probably, seeing the fire, and rushing up from the fields with his hired men and the neighbors to put it out.

Suppose they have taken your father away? You know they have said things about him, and lots of people believe he is a bad man.

I never did. But suppose they really have taken him, what will you do? When Mary Morton's mother died last year and left her alone, they took her to the poorhouse.

Maybe they'd make you go there, too. She had been doing a lot of thinking. I'm going to get as far away as I can and get a real job.

Zara looked at Bessie, usually so quiet and meek, in surprise. There was a determined note in Bessie's voice that she had never heard there before.

And if that's so, we'd better wait until it's dark, and go there quietly, so that we can listen, and see if there's anyone around looking for you.

There's no one else to do it for us. And Bessie, the meek, the quiet, the subdued, from that moment took command. Always before Zara had seemed the plucky one of the two.

She had often urged Bessie to rebel against Maw Hoover's harshness, and it had been always Bessie who had hung back and refused to do anything that might make trouble.

But now, when the time for real action had come, and Bessie recognized it, it was she who made the plans and decided what was to be done.

Bessie knew the woods well, far better than Zara. Unerringly she led the way to a spot she knew, where a farm had been allowed to drift back to wild country, and pointed out some cherry trees.

Some believe that they're no good now, because no one has looked after the trees, but I know they're fine. I ate some only the other day, and they're ripe and delicious.

So we'll have supper off these trees. Zara, as active as a little cat, climbed the tree at once, and in a moment she was throwing down the luscious fruit to Bessie, who gathered it in her apron and called to Zara when she had picked enough of the big, round cherries.

Eat as many as you want. They're not like a real supper of meat and potatoes and things like that, you know, but they'll keep us from feeling hungry.

I'd never have known about them. But then I haven't lived long enough in the country to know it the way you do. I've been in cities all my life.

It must be wonderful. It must have been because I was used to everything of that sort. When you see things every day you get so that you don't think anything about them.

I used to laugh at people from the country when I'd see them staring up at the high buildings, and jumping when an automobile horn tooted anywhere near them.

There were all sorts of things I'd never seen or thought about. I'm really only just beginning to get used to them now.

Bessie, it's getting pretty dark. Won't the moon be up soon? But it is dark now — we'd better begin walking toward your house.

We want to get there while it stays dark, and before the old moon does get up. It'll be just as bright as daylight then, and they'd be able to see us.

I tell you what — we want to keep off the road. We'll go through the woods till we get a chance to cut through Farmer Weeks' cornfield. That'll bring us out behind your place, and we can steal up quietly.

It seems mighty mean for us to have to sneak around that way. That's the chief thing. If you do right, people will find it out sooner or later, even if they think at first that you're bad.

Sometimes it takes a long time, but Paw Hoover says he'd never known it to fail that a bad man gets found out sooner or later. What would Paw Hoover do to him if he knew he'd set the woodshed on fire, Bessie?

He'd be awful mad. He hasn't got so awful much money, you know, and he needs it all for the farm. But Maw Hoover thinks Jake's all right.

She'd find some excuse for him. She always does when he does get found out. That happens sometimes, you know. He can't always make them think I've done it.

I don't believe he stops to think half the time. Here we are! We'll cut through the fence. Careful as we go through — keep to the lanes between the stalks.

We mustn't hurt the corn, you know. These people 'round here have been mean and ugly to my father ever since we came here. It won't do you any good to hurt them in return.

If you do wrong, too, just because they have, you'll be just as bad as they are. We don't know that anything of that sort has happened yet, and, even if it has, it will come out all right.

If your father hasn't done anything wrong, they can't punish him. He'll get a fair trial if he's been arrested, and they can't prove he's done anything unless he has, you know.

I'm frightened; really I am! There's your house, and there's a light! That means there's someone there. I hope it's your father, but it might be someone else, and we mustn't let them hear us.

The two girls were out of the cornfield now, and, crossing a little patch of swampy land, came to the little garden around Zara's house, where her father had planted a few vegetables that helped to feed him and Zara.

The house was little better than a cabin, a rough affair, tumbled down in spots, with a sagging roof, and stained and weather-worn boards.

It had no second floor at all, and it was a poor, cheap apology for a dwelling, all around. But after all, it was Zara's home, the only home she knew, and she was so tired and discouraged that all she wanted was to get safely inside and throw herself down on her hard bed to sleep.

From the room into which the kitchen led there came a murmur of voices. At first, though they strained their ears, they could make nothing out of the confused sounds of talk.

But gradually they recognized voices, and Bessie turned pale as she heard Paw Hoover's, easy for her to know, since his deep tones rumbled out in the quiet night.

Zara recognized them, too, and clutched Bessie's arm. Then the door was opened, and the two girls huddled closer together, shivering, afraid that they would be discovered.

But it seemed that Paw Hoover had only opened the door to get a little air, since the night was very hot after the storm. About them the insects were making their accustomed din, and a little breeze rustled among the treetops.

But, with the door open, they could hear what was being said plainly enough. Lucky that she didn't burn you out when you was all asleep — I say," said Jake.

Bessie listened, every nerve and muscle in her body tense. They blamed her for the fire, then! Her instinct when she had run away had been right.

Say, you ought to have her pinched for doin' it, too. But say, Brother Weeks, I hate to think of that little Zara runnin' roun' the woods to-night.

She ain't done nothin' wrong, even if her paw's a crook. An' now they took him off, who's a-goin' to look out for her? Bind her over till she's twenty-one, and let her work for her keep.

I might take her myself — guess 'twouldn't cost such a lot to feed her. She's thin — reckon she ain't ever had much to eat here.

Bessie, feeling the tremor in Zara's rigid body at this confirmation of her worst fears, put her hand quickly over he friend's mouth, just in time to check a cry that was rising to her lips.

Come, we'll get away. We mustn't stay around here. And, holding Zara's arm, she led her away. For a long time, until Bessie judged that it was safe to return to the road, they kept on through the woods.

And, when they came out on the road, the moon was up. Come on, we'll walk a little further, and then we'll come to a place I know where we can sleep to-night — a place where woodcutters used to stay.

No one's there now, and we'll be dry and safe. It won't be long now before we can go to sleep. The full moon made it easy to pick their way along the wood path that Bessie followed, and before long they came to a small lake.

On its far side, among the trees near the shore, a fire was burning, flickering up from time to time, and sending dancing shadows on the beach.

Here we are — here's the hut! Isn't it nice and comfortable? Hurry now and help me to pick up some of these branches of pine trees. They'll make a comfortable bed for us, and we'll sleep just as well as if we were at home — or a lot better, because there'll be no one to be cross and make trouble for us in the morning.

Bessie arranged the branches, and in a few moments they were asleep, lying close together. Pine branches make an ideal bed, but, even had their couch been uncomfortable, the two girls would have slept well that night; they were too tired to do anything else.

It was long after midnight, and both had been through enough to exhaust them. The sense of peace and safety that they found in this refuge in the woods more than made up for the strangeness of their surroundings, and when they awoke the sun was high.

It was the sound of singing in the sweet, fresh voices of girls that aroused them in the end. And Bessie, the first to wake up, aroused Zara, and then peeped from the door of the cabin.

There on the beach, their hair spread out in the sun, were half a dozen girls in bathing dresses. Beside them were a couple of canoes, drawn up on the beach, and they were laughing and singing merrily as they dried their hair.

Looking over across the lake, in the direction of the fire she had seen the night before, Bessie saw that it was still burning.

A pillar of smoke rose straight in the still air, and beyond it, gleaming among the trees, Bessie saw the white sides of three or four tents.

Astonished, she called Zara. Isn't that lady with the brown hair pretty? And she's older than the rest, too. You can see that, can't you?

She just called one of the girls. And did you hear what she called her? Minnehaha — that's a funny name, isn't it? It means Laughing Water.

That's the name of the girl that Hiawatha loved, in the poem. I've read that, haven't you? But that girl isn't an Indian.

She's ever so much lighter than I am — she's as fair as you. And Indians are red, aren't they? That's right enough. It must be some sort of a game. Oh, listen!

And then, without a word of signal all the girls suddenly broke out into a song — a song Bessie had never heard before.

As they ended the song, all the girls, with laughing faces, followed the eyes of their leader and looked at Bessie, who, frightened at first when she saw they had been discovered, now returned the look shyly.

There was something so kind, so friendly, about the manner of these strange girls that her fear had vanished. Do you live here? It's fun, isn't it?

But you're not alone, are you? Didn't I see another head peeping out? She looked curiously at Wanaka. Bessie had never heard of the Camp Fire Girls, and the great movement they had begun, meant to do for American girls what the Boy Scout movement had begun so well for their brothers.

We're going back now to cook it. The other girls have begun to prepare it already. She looked about curiously. And Bessie saw that she could not deceive this tall, slim girl, with the wise eyes that seemed to see everything.

And suddenly she was overcome with the thought of how hard things were going to be, especially for Zara, and tears filler her eyes.

Girls, launch the canoes! We have two guests here who haven't had any breakfast, and they're simply starving to death.

Any girls Bessie had ever known would have rushed toward her at once, overwhelming her with questions, fussing around, and getting nothing done.

But these girls were different. They didn't talk; they did things. In a moment, as it seemed, the canoes were in the water, and Bessie and Zara had been taken into different boats.

Then, at a word from Wanaka, the paddles rose and dipped into the water, and with two girls paddling each canoe, one at the stern and one at the bow, they were soon speeding across the lake, which, at this point, was not more than a quarter of a mile wide.

Once ashore, Wanaka said a few words to other girls who were busy about the fire, and in less than a minute the savory odor of frying bacon and steaming coffee rose from the fire.

Zara gave a little sigh of perfect content. They sat down, cross-legged, near the fire, and the girls of the camp, quiet and competent, and asking them no questions, waited on them.

Bessie and Zara weren't used to that. They had always had to wait on others, and do things for other people; no one had ever done much for them. It was a new experience, and a delightful one.

But Bessie, seeing Wanaka's quiet eyes fixed upon her, realized that the time for explanations would come when their meal was over. And, sure enough, after Bessie and Zara had eaten until they could eat no more, Wanaka came to her, gently, and took her by the hand.

She seemed to recognize that Bessie must speak for Zara as well as for herself. She knew that in Wanaka she had found, by a lucky chance, a friend she could trust and one who could give her good advice.

Some of us — most of us — like the old Indian names, and take them, but not always. Haven't you any parents? Or did they let you go out to spend the night all alone in the woods that way?

Then Bessie told her the whole story. Wanaka watched her closely as Bessie told of her life with the Hoovers, of her hard work and drudgery, and of Jake's persecution.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as Bessie described the scene at the woodshed, and told of how Jake had locked Zara in to wait for her mother's return, and of his cruel and dangerous trick with the burning embers.

He was just so frightened, and wanted to save himself. Who is her father? What does he do for a living? They used to live in the city, but they came out here two or three years ago, and he's never gone around with the other men, because he can't speak English very well.

He's some sort of a foreigner, you see. And when they took him off to prison Zara was left all alone. He used to stay around the cabin all the time, and Zara says he would work late at night and most of the day, too, making things she never saw.

Then he'd go off for two or three days at a time, and Zara thought he went to the city, because when he came back he always had money — not very much, but enough to buy clothes and food for them.

And she said he always seemed to be disappointed and unhappy when he came back. A man has a right to keep his business to himself if he wants to, as long as he doesn't do anything that's wrong.

But why didn't Zara stay? If her father was cleared and came back, they couldn't keep her at the poor-farm or make her go to work for this Farmer Weeks you speak of.

She was afraid, and so was I. They call her a gypsy because she's so dark. And people say she steals chickens. I know she doesn't, because once or twice when they said she'd done that, she'd been in the woods with me, walking about.

And another time I saw a hawk swoop down and take one of Maw Hoover's hens, and she was always sure that Zara'd done that. Wanaka had watched Bessie very closely while she told her story.

Bessie's clear, frank eyes that never fell, no matter how Wanaka stared into them, seemed to the older girl a sure sign that Bessie was telling the truth.

And I don't believe what Maw Hoover was always saying — that they were glad to get rid of me, and didn't care anything about me.

You know that's what we live for — to help people, and to love them and serve them. You heard us singing the Wohelo cheer when we first saw you.

Wohelo means work, and health, and love. You see, it's a word we made up by taking the first two letters of each of those words.

I tell you what I'm going to do. You and Zara must stay with us here to-day. The girls will look after you.

And I'm going into the village and while I'm there I'll see how things are. I believe what you've told me — I believe every word of it.

But you'd rather have me find out from others, too, I'm sure. You see, it would be very wrong for us to help girls to run away from home.

But neither you nor Zara have done that, if your story is right. And I think it is our duty to help you both, just as it is our pleasure.

Bessie wasn't afraid of what Wanaka would find out in Hedgeville. Wanaka wouldn't take Jake Hoover's word against hers, that much was sure. And she guessed that Wanaka would have her own ways of discovering the truth.

So, as Wanaka changed from her bathing suit to a costume better suited to the trip to the village, Bessie went out with a light heart to find Zara.

Already she thought that she saw the way clear before them. With friends, there was no reason why they should not reach the city and make their own way there, as plenty of other girls had done.

And it seemed to Bessie that Wanaka meant to be a good friend. They do all sorts of things. And Minnehaha is going to teach me to swim this afternoon.

She'll teach you, too, if you like. But Bessie only smiled in answer. She could swim already, but she said nothing about it, since no one asked her, seeming to take it for granted that, like Zara, she was unused to the water.

Moreover, while she could swim well enough, she was afraid that she would look clumsy and awkward in comparison to the Camp Fire Girls. Most of them had changed their clothes now, before dinner.

Some wore short skirts and white blouses; one or two were in a costume that Bessie recognized at once as that of Indian maidens, from the pictures she had seen in the books she had managed to get at the Hoover farmhouse.

She noticed, too, that many of them now wore strings of beads, and that all wore rings. Two or three of the girls, too, wore bracelets, strangely marked, and all had curious badges on their right sleeves.

She had already told Zara that her real name was Margery Burton. You cooked our meal; now we'll certainly help to clean up.

That's something I can do, and I'm going to help. Zara, too, insisted on doing her share, and the time passed quickly as the girls worked.

Then, when the things were cleaned and put away, and some preparations had been made for the evening meal, Zara begged to have her first swimming lesson at once.

She's our Guardian, you see, and it's a rule that we mustn't go into the water unless she's here, no matter how well we swim, unless, of course, we have to, to help someone who is drowning.

And it's too soon after dinner, too. It's bad for you to go into the water less than two hours after a meal.

We're always careful about that, because we have to be healthy. That's one of the chief reasons we have the Camp Fire. Those seven fagots each stand for one of the seven points of the law of the fire.

Then, later on, you get to be a Fire-Maker, and, after that, a Torch-Bearer. And when you get older, if you do well, you can be a Guardian, and be in charge of a Camp Fire yourself.

You see, there are Camp Fires all over. There are a lot of them in our city, and in every city. And there are more and more all the time.

The movement hasn't been going on very long, but it's getting stronger all the time. If I were, I'd wear a bracelet, like Ayu.

And instead of just having a bunch of fagots on my sleeve, there'd be a flame coming from them. And then, when I get to be a Torch-Bearer, I'll have a pin, as well as the ring and the bracelet, and there'll be smoke on my badge, as well as fire and wood.

But you have to work hard before you can stop being a Wood-Gatherer and get to the higher ranks. We all have to work all the time, you see. We work because we want to do it, not because someone makes us.

So Bessie told her story, or most of it, all over again, and the other girls, seeing that she was telling a story, crowded around and listened.

She won't let them treat you unfairly. Is she going to find out about things in the village? Why, one of the first things she did in the city, when she started this Camp Fire, was to get us all to work to get better milk for the babies in the poor parts, where the tenement houses are.

We all helped, but she did most of it. And now all the milk is good and pure, and the babies don't die any more in the hot weather in summer. After all, why not?

Maw Hoover would never have let her do anything like that — but Maw Hoover couldn't stop her from doing anything she liked now.

Wanaka had told her what Zara had always said, that Maw Hoover couldn't make her stay, couldn't make her keep on working hard every day for nothing but her board.

She had read about girls who had gone to the city and earned money, lots of money, without working any harder than she had always done. Perhaps she could do that, too.

She'll explain it to you. And you're going to be happy, Bessie. I'm sure of that. When people do right, and still aren't happy for a while, it's always made up to them some way.

And usually when they do wrong they have to pay for it, some way or another. That's one of the things we learn in the Camp Fire.

See, she's staying on the other side of the lake. It's a man. He's carrying her things. I'll paddle over for her in a canoe.

I don't think the man will come with her, but you and Zara go into the tent there. Then you'll be all right. No one would ever think of your being here, or asking any questions.

But Bessie watched anxiously. She couldn't make out the face of the man with Wanaka, as she peered from the door of the tent, but if he was from Hedgeville he would know her.

Everyone knew the girl at Hoovers', whose father and mother had deserted her. Bessie had long been one of the most interesting people in town to the farmers and the villagers, who had little to distract or amuse them.

I'll bring Wanaka back right away. With swift, sure strokes, Minnehaha sent the canoe skimming over the water.

The other girls were busy in various ways. Some were in the tents, changing their clothes for bathing suits; some had gone into the woods to get fresh water from a spring.

For the moment no one was in sight. And suddenly, out of a clear sky, as it seemed, disaster threatened. Clouds had been gathering for some time but the sun was still out, and there seemed no reason to fear any storm.

But now there was a sudden roughening of the smooth surface of the water; white caps were lashed up by a squall that broke with no warning at all.

And Bessie, filled with horror, saw the canoe overturned by the wind. She saw, too, what eyes less quick would have missed — that the paddle, released from Minnehaha's grasp as the boat upset, struck her on the head.

For a moment Bessie stood rooted to the spot in terror. And then, when Minnehaha did not appear, swimming, Bessie acted.

Forgotten was the danger that she would be discovered — her fear of the man on the other side of the lake. Wanaka might not have seen, and there was no time to lose.

The accident had occurred in the middle of the lake, and Bessie, rushing to the beach, pushed off a canoe and began to drive it toward the other canoe, floating quietly now, bottom up.

The squall had passed already. Bessie had never been in a canoe before that day. She made clumsy work of the paddling. But fear for Minnehaha and the need of reaching her at once made up for any lack of skill.

Somehow she reached the spot. By that time the other girls had seen what was going on, and help was coming quickly. Some swam and some were in one of the other canoes.

But Bessie, catching a glimpse of Minnehaha just rising to the surface, didn't wait for them. In a trice she leaped overboard, and, swimming strongly, reached her new friend.

As Bessie had feared, Minnehaha had been stunned by the blow from the paddle. Otherwise she could have reached the shore by swimming, or could have supported herself by the upturned boat.

Bessie caught hold of her, and, supporting her with one arm, used the other to reach the canoe, to which she clung. And in a moment she was safe. Willing hands reached for her burden, others helped her to climb back into the canoe, in her wet clothes, since she had plunged in fully dressed.

And then they went ashore, while one of the swimmers climbed into the canoe Bessie had deserted and paddled over for Wanaka, who had seen the whole episode.

They hurried Bessie into a tent and helped her to get into dry things, which one of the girls lent to her, and then Bessie joined those who were busy with Minnehaha, who soon showed signs of returning consciousness.

So Bessie did not see or hear what was going on outside. For the man who had been standing with Wanaka on the other shore had seen Bessie, and he had known her.

No wonder, since it was Paw Hoover himself, from whom Wanaka had bought fresh vegetables for the camp. He had insisted on helping her to carry them out, although Wanaka, thinking of Bessie and Zara, had told him she needed no help.

But she could not shake him off, and on the way he had told her about the exciting happenings of the previous day, of which, she told him, she had already heard in the village.

And, what's more, Miss, I've a suspicion I've seen her before! Wanaka said nothing, but smiled. What Paw Hoover had told her had done more to confirm the truth of Bessie's story than all the talk she had heard in Hedgeville.

She liked the old farmer — and she wondered what he meant to do. He didn't leave her long in doubt. An' say, if that's Bessie, I want to see her.

Wanaka saw that there was some plan in his mind, and she knew that to try to ward him off would be dangerous. There was nothing to prevent him from returning, later, with Weeks or anyone else.

And Bessie, coming out, came face to face with Paw Hoover! She stared at him, frightened and astonished, but she held her ground. And Paw Hoover's astonishment was as great as her own.

This was a new Bessie he had never seen before. She was neatly dressed now in one of Ayu's blue skirts and white blouses, and one of the girls had done up her hair in a new way.

An' I don't believe you ever set that shed afire on purpose. If you hadn't jumped into the water after that other girl I'd never have suspicioned you was here, Bessie.

You stay right with these young ladies, if they'll have you. I'll not say a word. An' if you ever get into trouble, you write to me — see?

Reckon I've made enough on 'em myself. Here, you take this. I guess you've earned it, right enough. That fire didn't do no real damage — nothin' we can't fix up in a day or two.

Bessie's eyes filled with tears. Paw Hoover was simply proving again what she had always known — that he was a really good and kindly man.

She longed to tell him that she hadn't set the barn on fire, that it had been Jake. But she knew he would find it hard to believe that of his son, and that, even if he took her word for it, the knowledge would be a blow.

And it would do her no good, so she said nothing of that. I'll never forget you, and sometime I'll come back to see you and all the others. And you stick to Miss Mercer there.

She'll see that you get along. Not until he had gone did Bessie open her hand and look at the crumpled bill that Paw Hoover had left in it. And then, to her amazed delight, she saw that it was a five-dollar note — more money than she had ever had.

She showed it to Wanaka. You've worked hard enough to earn a lot more than that. Now I've found out that what you told me was just right.

I knew it all the time, but I made sure. Bessie, how would you and Zara like to stay with us, and come back to the city when we go?

I'll be able to find some way to look after you. You can find work to do that won't be so hard, and you can study, too.

Bessie, overjoyed by Paw Hoover's kindness and his promise to do nothing toward having her taken back to Hedgeville, spent the rest of the afternoon happily.

Indeed, she was happier than she could ever remember having been before. But her joy was dashed when, a little while before supper, she came upon Zara, crying bitterly.

Zara had gone off by herself, and Bessie, going to the spring for water, came upon her. I was so glad to think that I wasn't going to be taken back that I forgot all about him.

But cheer up! I'm sure he's done nothing wrong, and I'll talk to Wanaka, and see if there isn't something I can do or that she can do.

I believe she can do anything if she makes up her mind she will. But Wanaka said she was sure that it is only gossip, and that he needn't be afraid.

And we're going to the city, too, you know, so you'll be able to see him. Then that won't be so bad.

If I could only talk to him I'm sure it would seem better. And you must be right — they can't punish a man when he hasn't done anything wrong, can they?

We used to live in a white house, on a hillside. And there were lemon trees and olive trees growing there, and all sorts of beautiful things.

And you could look out over the blue sea, and see the boats sailing, and away off there was a great mountain. Sometimes, my father says, the mountain would smoke, and fire would come out of it, and the ground would shake.

But it never hurt the place where we lived. There were some bad men who hated him, and he said that if he stayed there they would hurt him.

And he heard that over here everyone was welcome, and one man was as good as another. But he wasn't, or they never seemed to think so, if he was.

But I guess that things go wrong here sometimes. You see, it's this way. Just think of Jake Hoover. He's an American, but that isn't the reason he was so mean to us.

He'd be mean anywhere, no matter whether he was an American or what. He just can't help it. And I think he'll get over it, anyhow. He's made all this trouble for you, and you're standing up for him already.

But what trouble has he made for me, Zara? I'm going to be happier than I ever was back there in Hedgeville — and if it hadn't been for him I'd still be there, and I'd be chopping wood or something right now.

He thought he could get you punished for something he'd done. Even if he did mean to be nasty, he wasn't. Would you be angry at him then for hurting you, when he didn't mean to do it?

I would be. When anything happens that isn't nice it only bothers you as long as you keep on thinking about it, Zara.

Suppose someone threw a stone at you, and hit you? If you refuse to notice the mean things people do when they don't succeed in hurting you, it's just as if you didn't know anything about it, isn't it?

And if the stone was thrown, and you saw it, and knew who'd thrown it, you'd be angry — but you could get over it by just making up your mind to forget it, and acting as if they'd never done it at all.

When I get angry I get all hot inside, and I feel dreadful. I'm going to try not to lose my temper any more.

I've got this water, and they must be waiting for it. So Zara, happy again, and laughing now, helped Bessie with the pail of water, and they went back to the fire together.

Everyone was busy, each with some appointed task. Two of the girls were spreading knives and forks, and laying out cups and dishes in a great circle near the water, since all the meals were eaten Indian fashion, sitting on the ground.

Others, who had been fishing, were displaying their catch, and cleaning the gleaming trout, soon to be cooked with crisp bacon, and to form the chief dish of the evening meal.

Later on, if you like, I'll give you a lesson in cooking. Bessie smiled, but said nothing. And presently she called to Zara and disappeared with her in the woods.

And I saw an apple tree when I was walking through the woods. Let's go and get some of them. Zara was quite willing, and in half an hour or less the two girls were back in camp with a good load of apples.

Then Bessie spoke to Wanaka when the Guardian was alone for the moment. Wanaka looked at her curiously, but gave her what she wanted.

And Bessie, finding a smooth white board, was soon busy rolling pastry. Then when she had made a great deep dish pie, and filled it with the apples, which Zara, meanwhile, had pared and cut, Bessie set to work on what was the most difficult part of her task.

First she dug out a hole in the ground and made a fire, small, but very hot, and, in a short time, with the aid of two flat stones, she had constructed a practicable outdoor oven, in which the heat of the embers and cinders was retained by shutting out the air with earth.

Then the pie was put in and covered at once, so that no heat could escape, and Bessie, saying nothing about what she had done, went back to help the others.

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