Chapter II: Part 2

The splint ready Sheila gently placed it under the dog's leg and instructed Pat how to hold it in place. She wound the bandage around and around, careful to avoid the break, but firmly, so as to hold the splint securely in place. Then she straightened up from her kneeling position with a long breath.

"There, now--that will do nicely, until someone can set it!"

"I think you're wonderful--the way you can do things!" cried Pat, always generous in her praise. "Where did you ever learn? And oh, I forgot, we don't know your name and we'd like to----"

The three girls, grouped about the injured dog who lay very contentedly with his head pillowed on Renee's lap, presented striking contrasts. Pat, like a picture in a fashion book in her trim green broadcloth coat and turban set jauntily on her smooth dark hair, had a frankness and sunniness in her face that was invariably winning despite a slight imperiousness of manner; Renee, small for her thirteen years, her delicate face, framed in golden curls, touched by the shadow of the sorrows she had known, seemed like a fragile flower. And Sheila Quinn, a head taller than even Pat, her black hair neatly braided in two tight pigtails reaching almost to her waist, her face and form showing the vigor gained from healthy exercise and simple living, had something both of Patricia's winsomeness, Renee's quiet poise and a happy contentment all of her own which came from the Quinn philosophy of "just make the best of everything, sweetness, there's sure to be some sunshine somewhere!"

Sheila laughed. "Which question shall I answer first? I'm Sheila Quinn! I know you are Patricia Everett, but----" she hesitated as she glanced toward Renee. Patricia added:

"This is Renee LaDue who has come way from France to live with us!"

"Oh, how nice!" Sheila glanced with friendly curiosity up and down the little figure. "And I learned bandaging and all that at the scout meetings. I was highest in my first-aid test," she concluded proudly.

"Scouts----" queried Pat.

"Girl Scouts," explained Sheila. "I belong to Troop Six and it's the best troop in the city!"

"Les Eclaireuses!" cried Renee. "There were some in the School of St. Cloud. I loved them--they used to bring the soldier's coats and socks to Susette for us to mend! They were like little girl soldiers."

Again Patricia felt small and insignificant before the greater experience of Renee and now, Sheila! But her nature was too sunny to show the moment's sting of pride. Besides, she was immensely curious.

"What do you have to do to be a Girl Scout?"

"Why, just want to join! I mean just want to be all that a scout must be and then put in your name. I wish you'd join Troop Six--it's the best and everyone just loves Captain Ricky--she's the scout captain."

"What do you have to want to want to be a scout?" asked Pat.

Sheila squared her shoulders. "This is what you have to want," and she repeated with dignity, for she was leader of her patrol and felt the responsibility of her position, "to do my duty to God and my country, to help other people at all times, to obey the scout law. There are lots of laws but they're the kind you just _like_ to obey. Captain Ricky says the real meaning of scouting for girls like us is service to God and our country; that it helps each one of us to build strong characters that anyone can depend upon! And when girls are scouts why, we don't stop to think that one, maybe, is rich and another poor and one's black and one's white or one's a Jew and one's a--a Baptist--we're just all scouts and loyal! Oh, I love it!"

"Renee, _let's_ be scouts!" cried Pat. "Let's tell Daddy we want to join Troop Six--it's the best in the city!"

Mr. Dog, his patience exhausted, had commenced to stir restlessly and lick his bandaged leg. The three girls exclaimed in dismay:

"We've forgotten the dog!"

"What shall we do with him?"

"I'd better take him home. I am sure my mother can set his leg and then we'll put it in a stronger splint," said Sheila.

Pat and Renee could not dispute Sheila's claim to the interesting patient.

"Then we'll come over to-morrow to see him. I think he's a nice dog because he looks just like Miss Prindle's General who has all kinds of prizes, only dirty!" Patricia motioned to Watkins who, resigned to waiting, had become more concerned in the afternoon newspaper than in the fate of the dog.

He looked a little angry now when Pat explained that they intended to carry the dog in the automobile to the Quinn home, but there was something in Pat's face that stilled the protest on his lips.

Pat exclaimed with delight when she found that Sheila lived in the old brick house whose windows were in sight of her own. With Renee and now Sheila, the world that had seemed only the day before to be so lonely, now seemed full of friends. Sheila did not tell Pat that she had often watched her come and go from the house that was so like a palace compared to her own. Sheila knew that there had been just a little envy in her heart at times and she was ashamed of it. For, after all, not for worlds would she exchange her dearest mother and the three small brothers for the wealth of the Everetts!

"Let's have lots of good times together," Pat called in parting, "and we'll come over first thing to-morrow to see the dog!"

So much had Pat and Renee to tell of their day that Mr. Everett quite forgot an after-dinner engagement he had made with a business acquaintance. All four of them, Aunt Pen and Daddy, Pat and Renee sat before the fire. Pat, with a diplomacy not suspected by her innocent family, led up very carefully to what she wanted "more than anything else in the world!" That was always the way she put it. She used the very words now as she told of Troop Six--the best in the whole city!

"Bless Pat!" cried her father, using Melodia's favorite expression, "_I_ can't keep up with you! Yesterday it was one thing and to-day it's another, and it's always what you want more than anything else in the world!"

"Yes, Daddy--_this_ is!"

"A Girl Scout----" he glanced over the children's heads at Penelope and his brows lifted as much as to say, "Well, this is _your_ garden--what have you to say?"

Aunt Pen answered his look.

"Do you know, Thomas, I think it's just the thing! It will bring the girls in touch with joys and responsibilities they've not known before!"

"It makes us build up--oh, something about character!" In her excitement Pat could not remember Sheila's grand words. "Renee says that in Paris they are like girl soldiers. And Sheila says we'll love the girls in the troop; there's Keineth Randolph and Peggy Lee and True Scott and a lot of others----"

"I know Mrs. Lee, and if Peggy is like her mother she is a fine girl," added Aunt Pen.

"Keineth is John Randolph's girl," put in Pat's father.

"Then we may?" Pat asked anxiously.

"You may," laughingly answered Mr. Everett and Aunt Pen in one voice, covering their ears that they might not be deafened by Pat's boisterous "hurrah!"

Upstairs Pat chattered on, although Renee's eyes were almost shut with sleep. They opened their beds and each laid out her nightgown and slippers.

"You know I'm glad Maggie's downstairs now--we ought to take care of things ourselves; we'll _have_ to, if we make good scouts! Oh, good gracious!" Pat whirled a stocking in midair. "We'll have to try exams and I'm always scared to death. But you'll help me, won't you, Renee?"

And little Renee, her heart overflowing with gratitude, glad to do the smallest service within her power, answered heartily, though sleepily, "'Deed I will!"

*CHAPTER VI*

*EAGLES AND GOLDEN EAGLETS*

"A bun fell on my kitten,
She died where she was sittin'----"

sang Sheila, holding up for inspection the blouse she had just finished ironing.

The front doorbell rang, its rusty tone resounding through the house.

"Goodness gracious," exclaimed Mrs. Quinn, smoothing out her apron. Few came to the sombre front door of the old house; somehow instinct seemed always to lead visitors along the flagged walk to the door leading into the cheery kitchen.

Sheila, flying to the door, had guessed in an instant who the callers were! She led Pat and Renee back through the long hall and the injured dog, comfortably established in a basket near the stove, set up a vigorous barking by way of welcome.

"He's all right, or will be as soon as the break mends, mother says! This is my mother, Pat," and Patricia turned from the dog to Mrs. Quinn, who greeted the girls with her cheery smile.

"The children would have him here and I guess the poor dog is glad enough to find a home," she explained, nodding toward the basket which the younger Quinns, with scraps of old carpeting, had made most comfortable.

"Mother says he's an Irish terrier, so let's call him Paddy!" And Paddy, as though he liked and accepted the name, barked and wagged his stump of a tail and tried to jump out of his basket.

With little effort to conceal their curiosity Patricia and Renee were staring about them. Patricia had never seen a kitchen like this before! She could not tell just what made it so different--it might be the neat rows of pretty china dishes on the shelves of the open cupboard, or the shiny tins and pots and pans in the stove corner, or the bright rag rugs on the spotless floor, or the gay patterned cloth across the table at the window, or the blooming plants on the sills framed by crisply ruffled muslin curtains! And Mrs. Quinn, a pink bow at her neck brightening her faded dress and heightening the color of her thin cheeks, looked as though she belonged there with the geraniums and the bright rugs and the spotless dishes! Patricia was thinking that it was just the sort of a room one felt like staying in--and anyone could feel sure that--if there was any sunshine anywhere--it would be slanting across that floor.

Renee was standing with her hands quaintly clasped.

"It is like home," she cried. She caught sight of a little wooden stool and exclaimed: "Oh--like Susette's!"

Sheila had told Mrs. Quinn that Renee had come way from France. The motherly woman now drew the child to her and let her tell of Susette and the cheery kitchen at St. Cloud so that the tiny shadow of homesickness might pass from her heart.

Patricia was joyously announcing that her Daddy and Aunt Pen had said they might join Troop-Six!

"And I saw Captain Ricky and she told me to bring you girls to-day! Scout meeting is at three o'clock at Lincoln School," Sheila added.

"Renee--do you hear that? Goodness, I'm scared! What do we have to do first?"

"Form in patrols for inspection. I hope you can come into the Eagle Patrol with Keineth Randolph and Peggy Lee and myself!"

Patricia had innumerable questions to ask. She and Renee sat upon the floor, one on each side of Paddy's basket which had been drawn out into the middle of the room. Sheila resumed her ironing, explaining that it must be done before she could do anything else. Mrs. Quinn commenced a vigorous beating and stirring that promised goodies of some kind, joining now and then in the merry chatter. This was the beginning of many such pleasant hours in the kitchen of the old brick house!

As the girls were going home Patricia said suddenly to Renee, speaking out of a moment of deep thought: "What was it made it so jolly--there? I believe it was the piano! Who'd ever think of having a piano in the kitchen?"

"No!" declared Renee. "It was the rocking chair and the piece-work cushions and the stool!"

At the scout meeting Renee, unused to large groups of children, felt a wave of shyness grip her. She was grateful for Pat's vivacity--no one would notice how quiet she was! At first there seemed to be a great many girls and as though they were all talking at once, but soon she made out through Sheila's rather offhand introductions that the girl with the nice eyes and jolly smile was Peggy Lee, that the smaller one with the golden hair was Keineth Randolph and that these two with the three girls standing near Pat made up the Eagle patrol.

Capt. Ricky, who was really Miss Fredericka Grimball, only no one ever called her anything but Capt. Ricky, greeted warmly the new recruits. She was a tall young woman, her fine face made beautiful by beauty of character rather than feature and with a personality that won her girls' liking and at the same time their respect.

She whispered to Sheila that she would place Pat and Renee in the Eagle Patrol! A shout went up in answer which was quieted by Capt. Ricky's whistle and her command to "fall in!"

Pat felt delightfully like a soldier as she drew up her slender five feet of body between Renee and True Scott. But she was an absurdly awkward soldier as she obeyed the commands and her pride met a sad fall when upon inspection she had to hold out ink-stained fingers!

After a brief drill the Captain gave the command to the Color Guard to form. From the ranks three girls stepped forward and with military precision brought from its place at one end of the room the Troop flag. Every scout's hand went instantly to the forehead in salute! Together they repeated:

"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the country
for which it stands;
One nation indivisible, with liberty and justice
for all!"

Renee could not follow their words, but in a clear, sweet voice she sang with them the "Star Spangled Banner," and as the words rang out, "Then conquer we must when our cause it is just," there was an added brightness in her eyes, for she had come closer than the others to "war's desolation."

In Sheila's kitchen the girls had studied the scout laws; they repeated them now, carefully. To Pat, whose life so far had had few "laws" or "rules" of any kind, they seemed to mean more, now, as she repeated them in chorus, and she wondered deep within her heart if she could really keep them all! But just at that moment she caught a glance and a smile from Capt. Ricky that put courage in her heart where the faintness had been! It would be well worth trying!

A business meeting followed. The business on hand to be discussed ranged in character from reports on "war savings," "thrift kitchen work," "city beautiful plans," a "back-to-school" campaign, knitting and sewing, to a noisy argument over a coming hike. The girls all tried to talk at once, and but for Capt. Ricky's whistle might have succeeded; nevertheless, out of the jumble of words Pat and Renee caught the impression that these merry girls were really doing a great deal of earnest work as well as play! In these khaki clad youngsters strong characters were in the building, "that anyone could depend upon" as Sheila had put it!

"Sheila, I know something un-us-u-al is going to happen!" whispered Peggy Lee, leaning across Pat and Renee. The Eagle patrol had grouped together, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "When Capt. Ricky looks like that she's got some grand surprise----"

"Maybe it's an overnight hike! We take our ponchos and blankets and dog-tents and sleep outdoors!"

"It's too cold for that now, Ken! Perhaps it's a real party like the one we had last spring!"

But none of them had guessed right! Capt. Ricky had a surprise for them but it was even better than the overnight hike or the "real party!"

When the business of the meeting was over she stepped before them, her hands clasped behind her back in a most mysterious manner. She began:

"Scouts, I have been given a great privilege--and you shall all share it with me! An honor has come to Troop Six!" She had to wait, then, for a moment; loud cheers interrupted her! She did not seem in the least disturbed. "But like all the honors that have come to Troop Six this has been won through merit, earnest effort and hard work. We may well be proud of her who has brought us this honor; we can all follow her example and seek the standard she has attained! We can hail her as a leader among us! Sheila Quinn, please step forward!"

A ripple of "oh-h-h" ran through the girls! Sheila's face turned crimson. Peggy and Keineth excitedly pushed her forward.

Capt. Ricky's left hand clasped Sheila's and with her right she held up a glittering badge.

"Sheila, it is my happy privilege, upon the recommendation of the National Commissioner, to award to you the Golden Eaglet, the highest honor that can be won by a Girl Scout!"

A din of cheering drowned out anything more that Capt. Ricky might have wanted to say. Peggy and True Scott were capering about like jumping-jacks. There were shouts of "What's the matter with Sheila! She's all right," "Three cheers for Troop Six," "Now a tiger for the Eagle Patrol," and through it all Capt. Ricky stood smiling, clasping Sheila's hand, and Sheila, the color of a red poppy, looked wildly about as though seeking some corner that might swallow her up.

Someone called "speech"; Peggy took it up, then it came from every corner! Capt. Ricky nodded to Sheila. Sheila swallowed hard to clear her voice of the tight band that seemed to choke it.

"I'm awfully glad I won--just for the sake of the Troop! It was hard work at first but afterwards one thing helped another. I hope you'll all be Golden Eaglets and I'll help anyone that wants to work for it and--Oh, I can't say another word!" and poor Sheila made a dash for the corner where the Eagle patrol awaited her with eager arms.

There were "eats," then, for it was of course a great occasion, and Peggy insisted that Sheila must eat six of the raisin cookies that were served. Pat, feeling now as though she had always belonged to Troop Six, asked, humbly, "if plain Eagles might not have just five?" and helped herself as she spoke!

The girls walked home together, a merry troop! Peggy Lee and Keineth Randolph turned after a few blocks; as Pat, Renee and Sheila went on Pat slipped her hand through Sheila's arm.

She had been deeply impressed by Sheila's modesty of manner. She was certain if she had been awarded such high honor she would have strutted like a peacock!

"Doesn't it feel grand to be a Golden Eaglet?" she asked Sheila solemnly.

Sheila hesitated. "I--don't--know! It makes me sort of--scared! I must live up to it, you see, and sometimes--it's awfully hard!"

For a few paces the girls walked along in silence. Serious thoughts had crossed each mind. An honor won was not enough--it must be lived up to!

Pat, who could not be still for very long, was the first to break the silence. She gave a merry chuckle.

"Well, I guess Pat Everett has a long way to go before she can be a Golden Eaglet! I've got to learn to be just a good scout first and you can believe that the next time I go to a scout meeting--I'll wash my hands before I go!"

*CHAPTER VII*

*AUNT PEN PLANS*

The Everett family was holding a "pow-wow." That was what Pat called the after-dinner hour when they gathered about the library fire. Renee thought it quite the jolliest time of the day; almost always Mr. Everett had so many funny or exciting things to tell and he and Aunt Pen never shut the girls out of their conversation; when sometimes their talk became serious and of problems which the girls could not understand, then either Mr. Everett or Aunt Pen carefully explained. And in turn Aunt Pen and Pat's father would listen with deep interest to the girls' account of their day.

"It's not nearly as jolly when Celia's home," Pat had confided to Renee, "'cause she always talks and won't pay any attention to me!" Although Aunt Pen, overhearing her, had laughed and said, with a world of meaning: "Poor chatterbox!"

Letters had come from the south that day. They read them over now as they sat in the "pow-wow." In her letter to Pat's father Mrs. Everett had told him how glad she was they had taken Renee and how eagerly she looked forward to knowing the little girl! As Mr. Everett read this Pat squeezed Renee's hand and Aunt Pen patted the fair head. To Pat her mother had enclosed a little note.

* * * Be a dear good child and help your Aunt Pen by doing whatever she wishes you to do. Keep your father from being lonely without us, and remember that sometimes he is very tired when he comes home at night and likes to have some one read to him! And be very considerate of the little stranger you have taken into your circle. * * *

"Mother needn't worry! I'll just like to do all of those three things, you'll see!" cried Pat, folding her precious note and tucking it away in her pocket.

But Aunt Pen's letter was the one that claimed their deep attention!

* * * If everything goes along all right at home--and I know it will with you there, dear Pen--we may stay until spring. We are very comfortable, the hotel is quiet and the food is good. Celia seems brighter and is quite contented. Chauncey is out of danger, too, and in a short time we may go to the hospital and see him. * * * It was very hard for me to make up my mind to leave home just now, but I could not hesitate when I knew that it was for Celia's good. And you, dear girl, made it easier for me by taking my place. * * * I am worried about Pat's school. I really don't think she ought to go back to Miss Prindle's at all--there is so much sickness everywhere, and I simply cannot stand any more worry. I think I'd rather she stayed right at home. But she ought to have some work--dear Pen, please plan this out for me! I feel so helpless way down here! I will leave it all to you, knowing that whatever you do will be for Pat's good. * * *

"Read that last again," broke in Pat's father with a twinkle in his eyes. Pat was looking rather anxiously at Aunt Pen.

Penelope read it again and then folded the letter.

"It's just exactly what I wanted Caroline to say!"

"But, Daddy, I don't care--now--about not going back to Miss Prindle's, but I'd hate a tutor or anything like that!"

"All play and no work----"

"But I do work! Ask Aunt Pen if I haven't made my bed every morning!"

"I have some plans," Aunt Pen began slowly, "the girls ought to have some studies and----"

"And a tutor, Aunt Pen?" Aunt Pen nodded. "Not that awful Miss Gray--please, Aunt Pen!"

"No, not Miss Gray! I think I know someone whom you'll like--or at least you are very fond of her now!"

Amused at the real distress in Pat's face her father broke in:

"Aunt Pen says she has some plans! Her plans are generally very interesting," with a sidelong glance at his sister, "though I admit that sometimes she is very heartless! Let's hear them! Then if you don't like them, why----"

"Well, then," cried Pat resignedly, "let's hear them!"

Renee was listening with deep interest. She had never gone to school except for the three years following her mother's death when she had on pleasant days gone to the communal school at St. Cloud. Before that her mother had taught her; she had stored away, too, in her mind valuable knowledge from the books which had been always about her. Now the thought of going to an American school filled her with terror!

Aunt Pen assumed a comically serious air. "I will tell the girls my plans and they shall decide, for unless they go into the work with all their hearts it will do them little good! First, each day must be divided into periods, the first to begin at eight o'clock. Between eight and nine there will be instruction in household arts"--she could not resist a sly wink at Pat's father--"that includes making beds without wrinkles and tidying the corners; of the room, especially behind the wardrobe where things collect--"

"Aunt Pen, you are _just_ joking!"

"No, my dear! I never was more serious in my life! To my thinking accuracy in such work is as important as accuracy in algebra or geometry! And I am sure you did not get it at Miss Prindle's!"

"What then?" cried Pat and her father.

"An hour of out-of-door exercise in the morning and one in the afternoon, or at least two hours out-of-doors each day, regardless of weather!"

"Oh, I _like that_!" interrupted Pat.

Aunt Pen continued severely: "And that does not mean riding with Watkins! That leaves six hours for study, classes and indoor recreation."

"Study what?" demanded Pat, still suspicious that there must be something unpleasant somewhere.

"Well, different things for each of you. Besides the classes in bed-making, sweeping and dusting, cooking and home-nursing, I think you should study Algebra and spelling, Renee may study English and she will help you with your French, and you will both have Latin. Then in the evening you may read American history from books selected by your tutor----"

"Did ever anyone hear of a school like that?" cried Pat, clapping her hands. "I love it, Aunt Pen, and I'll work hard--honest! Oh----" her face fell. "Who will be the tutor?"

"Where can you find anyone who can make bread and teach Latin infinitives?" put in Mr. Everett mischievously.

"Well," Aunt Pen tried to look modest, "how would I do?"

"You!" cried Pat incredulously, certain now that the whole plan was only a joke. "You--really, truly?"

"Really, truly, my dear! I will dearly love to teach you and help you both!"

Pat threw both arms about her neck in a strangling hug. "Oh, Aunt Pen, it will be such fun and I'll really, truly try to learn Latin and I won't stuff things behind the wardrobe any more--that was my half of the room, you know! And maybe, with Renee to help me, I can soon speak French as well as Celia!"

"And I'll offer a prize for the best loaf of bread that one of my girls makes!" added Mr. Everett.

"No, there shall be no prizes in this school! If one of the girls can do something better than the other then she is going to help the other! More than all the French and Latin, in the world I want my pupils to learn unselfishness! And we will keep reports and the reward will come when Pat and Renee show these reports to Pat's mother."

"What do you think about it, Mouse?" That was the name Mr. Everett had given Renee. Her eyes were shining with delight.

"Oh, I will like it very much! And there is so much I want to learn if I am to live in America and I will try so hard! I was afraid to go to school!" she confessed.

"It is very natural that you should have dreaded it, my dear! After a little that shyness will wear off and you will find many staunch friends and playmates."

"I want to learn to iron as nicely as Sheila can," announced Pat with her accustomed enthusiasm. "And cook, too--make tarts and things! Why, Aunt Pen, all that is what we'll need to be second-class scouts!" The thought suddenly brought concern to her face. "Will we have time, Aunt Pen, to study for the tenderfoot test? Peggy Lee and Keineth Randolph are going to teach us to tie knots and, you know," she added hastily, "that is important! Everybody should be able to tie all sorts of knots--it's very useful, lots of times!"

Aunt Pen nodded. "Of course! You shall have a chance to learn all that!"

"Peggy says her brother will teach us how to semaphore, too! Oh, we'll be _so_ busy, Renee! I think I'll write to Angeline all about it!"

She ran to the spinnet desk across the room and pulled out paper and pen. Her head was whirling with Aunt Pen's delightful plans! She wrote furiously for a few moments, with a loud scratching of her point. But as she wrote into her mind slowly crept a vivid picture of the girls at Miss Prindle's and of the life there! With the page half written she stopped. Then she caught up the paper and tore it across, dropping the pieces one by one into the waste-basket. From the divan before the fire Aunt Pen was watching her, wondering at the fleeting shadow that had crossed the brightness of her face.

"What is it, Pat?" she asked gently.

Pat hesitated. "Oh--nothing!" There was a note of defiance in her voice. She did not add that into her heart had suddenly come the illuminating conviction that the girls she had known at Miss Prindle's would laugh at Aunt Pen's "school!"

"There was just so much to write about that I couldn't seem to begin!"

*CHAPTER VIII*

*BREADWINNERS*

A perplexing problem confronted Pat. Her scout uniform must be bought out of money she had earned herself. And she had never earned a penny in her life!

"I earned my money knitting mittens and selling them and True Scott crocheted tam-o'-shanters. They were awfully pretty and all the girls ordered them. Peggy Lee worked on Saturdays in a grocery store--taking telephone orders," Sheila explained.

"I can't knit well enough or crochet or do anything," Pat wailed afterwards, in gloomy consultation with Renee and Sheila.

Then at Sheila's suggestion the girls studied the "Help Wanted" column of the newspaper. They spread it out upon the floor and knelt around it; Renee reading off each advertisement and Sheila and Pat passing upon its possibilities. After considerable discussion it was decided that on the next afternoon Pat should go to a certain office address where, as the advertisement read, any refined lady, young or old, would be told how to make ten dollars a week, in pleasant occupation, in her spare hours!

"That will be just right for me!" Pat declared enthusiastically. "It won't interfere with 'school.'"

Aunt Pen's "school" was well started. At first Pat had been inclined to treat rather lightly the schedule of "household arts," but she realized very soon that Aunt Pen was in earnest and that she intended to demand the same thoroughness and accuracy in the simple tasks about the house that were necessary in the sums in Algebra! At the beginning Pat had detested what Melodia called "the upstairs work," but under Aunt Pen's pleasant instruction and with Renee's cheerful company--that little lady was a true housewife and her hands flew eagerly about her work--Pat began to feel more interest and to try very hard to do everything just right! And at the end of the first week Aunt Pen had allowed the girls to make apple pies which Mr. Everett had declared were better than any apple pies he had ever tasted!

"And ten dollars a week!" Pat went on, "I will be rich very soon! Now we must find something for Renee!"

"Perhaps I might earn a little arranging flowers in shop windows; often I helped Colette Voisin, who had a stall at St. Cloud, and I loved it!"

"Just the thing!" cried Pat, delighted with anything out of the ordinary. "Most of the flower shops look hideous and they'd probably pay you well! While I go for my position to-morrow afternoon, you and Sheila can stop at each one of the florists and offer to trim their windows!"

The fortune-seekers spent an excited hour preparing for their adventure. Aunt Pen had gone out for the afternoon, so they were undisturbed. Pat insisted upon fastening her hair tightly back from her face so as to give to herself an appearance of mature severity! At the last moment she donned a long coat of Aunt Pen's which concealed her own kilted skirt and then for a finishing touch added Celia's last year's sable furs!

"There--I'm sure anyone would take me easily for twenty-one!" she declared, surveying herself with satisfaction. And to Pat twenty-one seemed old enough to suit the most exacting employer!

They had arranged to meet Sheila at her gate. Renee was frightened to death, and as the three girls trudged on toward the business section of the city she repeated over and over, after Pat, just what she must say upon entering each florist's shop!

"Be sure to tell them that you used to fix that flower stall in France!" warned Pat as they parted. She waved her hand, calling "good luck," and walked on with a brave step. Sheila was to stay with Renee because Renee was not acquainted with the city streets.

But two hours later it was a crestfallen trio who met--as they had agreed to do--in Sheila's kitchen. Pat, in spite of her ridiculous make-up, looked like an unhappy, thwarted child! She had waited over an hour in a stuffy office, packed in with dozens of other "refined lady" applicants who had--although Pat would not tell this even to Sheila or Renee--openly laughed at her!

"And by the time it was my turn to go in I was so tired waiting that I got all sort of scared and couldn't say a word," she explained in deep disgust. "Anyway, it was to sell "Beauty Packages" at people's houses--things that'd make straight hair curly and remove freckles and everything else and you had to deposit twenty-five dollars before they'd even let you begin!"

"And all the flower shops said they had experts to decorate their windows--they would not even let me tell of Colette's stall! I think they thought I was too little," sighed Renee; "often they laughed!"

"Well," Pat tossed her head, "we just mustn't get discouraged but try, try again!"

Renee shuddered. "Oh, I can't--not like that!" she cried vehemently.

"Would you rather not be a scout?" demanded Pat. "You never get anything without trying for it and I guess I'm not going to let one failure discourage me!" In the pleasant shelter of the Quinn kitchen she felt very brave! But a threat of tears in Renee's eyes softened her. "Don't worry, Ren, we'll find something! Maybe," she hesitated, "maybe we'd better consult Aunt Pen!"

"Oh, I wish you would!" Renee cried eagerly. Pat's adventurous spirit frightened her a little.

"I'll think about it and maybe to-morrow----"

For Pat was not quite sure, in her own mind, just what Aunt Pen might think of the borrowed coat and Celia's furs!

By countless little signs Aunt Pen knew that her girls had something on their minds! Hurrying down to dinner she had caught a glimpse, as she had passed Pat's door, of her own coat and Celia's furs thrown on Pat's bed; the girls had been unusually silent during the evening meal and she had twice intercepted an appealing glance from Renee to Pat which had drawn a nod of assurance from Pat in answer! Pat's room work the next morning had been sadly careless and her Latin recitation had found her abstracted! Aunt Pen was too sensible to force a confidence--she was sure that it was only a matter of a little time before Pat would bring to her anything that troubled!

So she was not surprised when after the morning's work was over Pat came to her door.

"Renee and I want to talk to you, Aunt Pen!" she said so seriously that for a moment Penelope was startled.

The two stood before her, Pat with her hands clasped behind her as she had often seen her father stand.

"You see it's like this, Aunt Pen--Renee and I have got to earn some money to buy our uniforms! We can't just use allowances! It's about six dollars and a half apiece! We can't knit well enough to sell things and Peggy Lee worked in a grocery store, but it was where her mother traded and they were nice about it! But we--can't--find--any work!"

"Then you've tried?"

Pat colored. "Yes--we tried yesterday!" Without going too much into detail and carefully giving their experience as much dignity as possible, she recounted the efforts of the afternoon before to find employment. Aunt Pen was suddenly seized with a violent coughing fit which left her tearful!

"I _hope_ you're not laughing," Pat ended with some wrath in her voice. "I'm sure we're old enough to earn money--_boys_ do at our age! And I am not in the _least_ discouraged!"

"That is right, Pat," cried Aunt Pen admiringly. "But perhaps you have not gone about it the right way! Let's sit down now and go over the whole thing!"

Afterwards Pat told Sheila that one thing she always liked about Aunt Pen was that she treated a person as though that person _knew_ something!

And Pat never dreamed that it was not her own mental processes that, after a few words, arrived at the conclusion that she and Renee must content themselves with just trying to do what they were qualified to do!

"Renee is too young to be employed even for any part of a day in a store--we have a law that forbids it! And you, Pat, could scarcely sell enough Beauty Packages in what spare time you have to replace the shoe leather you'd wear out!"

"But what _will_ we do?" cried Pat, humble now.

Aunt Pen thought for a long time. Pat's earnestness was a very precious thing--she must guard it!

Suddenly she clapped her hands with the girlishness that made her such an understanding companion.

"I have a brilliant idea! You remember the box of apples that came last week from my farm? We must have at least fifty bushels of them! My farmer said he was going to take them to market next week. Instead, you and Renee may go around and take orders! You can sell them for a dollar and seventy-five cents a bushel--even then it'll be under the grocer's price--and you will pay the farmer a dollar and a half, which is all he'd get wholesale, anyway."

"Then we'll make a quarter a bushel?"

"Yes. If you sell the whole lot, you'll have twelve dollars and a half to divide between you, besides lots of exercise and some experience! And you can take orders for potatoes, too, up to twenty bushels."

"Oh, great!" cried Pat. She danced around Indian-fashion. "May we begin this afternoon? And may I take some of the apples that came here around in a basket to show people?"

"That is a good idea! I think you'll find it pleasanter than selling Beauty Packages! Then other ways of earning money may turn up. You know one thing you can learn, even when you are little girls, that will help you all through life is to know and grasp opportunities when they come."

"I don't know what we'd do without you, Aunt Pen! I'll keep accounts in a little book, for I love putting down and adding figures. Let's call ourselves 'LaDue and Everett, Agents.'"

Renee, whose face reflected her pleasure and approval of the new plan and her relief that the afternoon need not bring further search for employment, spoke now, shyly:

"I want so much to earn some money so as to send a little to Susette and Gabriel. I have so much here and they may need many things! Do you think I could sell Christmas cards?"

"What kind, child?"

Renee told, then, of the little cards she had painted and sold in St. Cloud. She ran to her room to bring a few that she had. Penelope exclaimed with real admiration over them:

"Why, my dear, they are beautiful! Of course you can sell them! And you must make more! And dinner cards, too!"

"Then valentines!" cried Pat. "And I'll sell them, 'cause you see I am bigger! We can buy your paints and cardboard out of our apple money and--"

"What a business woman you have suddenly become!" Aunt Pen declared.

"We'll need a great big account book and an office----" Pat stopped suddenly and clapped her hands to her head, a motion which always indicated that she had an idea!

"Oh, spliffy! Renee--come on! I've the _best_ plan!" That it was to be a secret was certain! She caught Renee's two hands and dragged her from the room, leaving Aunt Pen convulsed with laughter.

There ensued, then, from the third floor, between the lunch hour and the afternoon study period, a rumbling like thunder, mingled with pounding and scraping and bursts of laughter. To add to the mystery Pat rushed downstairs to return shortly with broom and dustpan and a mob cap over her dark head.

Not until the next afternoon was the secret revealed! Then with much ceremony Pat and Renee escorted Aunt Pen to the third floor. For years the low-gabled room stretching across the east wing of the house had served as a sewing room where the Archer sisters had worked stitching frocks for Celia and Pat and mending the household linen. The Archer sisters--Pat had always thought they looked like gnomes---were dead now and Mrs. Everett had the girls' dresses made by a downtown dressmaker. The room had not been used for a long time.

Now upon its door had been nailed an imposing and elaborately decorated sign which read: "_Eagles' Eyrie_." And beneath that, emphasizing its warning with a skull and crossbones, was another sign: "_No Admittance_."

"Three knocks and then a quick one is the signal," explained Pat mysteriously; "and you and Sheila and Peggy and Keineth and True Scott are the only ones that will know it--except, of course, Ren and me!"

Pat was unlocking the door as she spoke. She threw it open proudly. "This isn't going to be any silly club!" she explained. "Everyone that comes here must work! That desk over there is mine and Renee has this table because she can paint on it and the light's good. And that big table is for the other girls, only we have to keep it against the wall 'cause one leg's off!"

A few hours' work had utterly transformed the room and had removed all traces of the patient Archer sisters and their livelihood. The floor, very dusty in spots, was covered with strips of an old hall carpeting which, when hardwood floors had been laid, had been stored away. Pat had also resurrected from the storeroom the antiquated desk and tables and a dilapidated assortment of chairs. Over one of these, to add a note of elegance to the room, she had thrown an old Bagdad lounge cover and across the windows the girls had hung pieces of faded velour, replaced a few years before in the living rooms below. The air was heavy with the smell of camphor and dust; the three-legged table had a pathetically helpless look, a corner of the wall was stained from a leak in the roof, but to Pat and Renee it was an inspiring retreat!

"My account books are there in my desk, and I'll have you know, Aunt Pen, that 'LaDue and Everett' have gotten orders for ten bushels of apples which wasn't bad for one afternoon's work and for girls, too!" declared Pat.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Aunt Pen's voice was as enthusiastic as that of the junior member of the firm. "I have an order for LaDue and Everett! Miss Higgins will take twelve of the Christmas cards! I showed her one this morning. She is going to put them on sale in her tea room. She may order more! You must decide as to your prices, Renee."

Renee was too delighted to answer. Pat fairly bubbled with excitement. She caught Aunt Pen and Renee in a whirling step that almost completely demolished an ancient chair that lay in her mad path.

"Hurrah for the Eagles' Eyrie! And won't we just have fun? You, know"--she quieted suddenly--"the day mother and Celia went away I was awfully miserable and I wrote the silliest things in my diary! But that was before I found Renee! And now we've got Sheila and you and our jolly school and our business and I'm glad's can be they left me home and I didn't go back to Prindle's!"

Aunt Pen, for lack of breath and a chair had sunk down upon the floor. She looked up laughing.

"I'd hate to have to analyze that sentence of yours, Patsy! But even if your English is constructed badly your heart is gold and I say--good luck to you and your Eagles' Eyrie!"

*CHAPTER IX*

*THE NEW LODGER*

"Whatever in the world are all those whistles blowing for?" asked Pat, springing from her bed and running to her window. "Something's happening--I know!"

The girls listened. The early morning air was filled with incessant sound; the shriek of sirens, shriller blasts, the heavy tones of boats' whistles from the harbor, intoning bells.

"It makes you shiver!"

"Let's dress quickly!" Pat reached out for a stocking. "Maybe it's peace!" she declared suddenly.

"Oh-h!" was all Renee answered, but there was a world of meaning in the single sound. "Listen! There are more bells! Aren't they beautiful? Perhaps they are ringing all over the world."

Downstairs they found everyone wildly excited. Even Jasper, who had not been over from England for so many years that he had forgotten his relatives there, was talking volubly to Aunt Pen and passing her sugar for her boiled egg!

"What is it, Aunt Pen?" cried Pat and Renee in one voice.

"My dears--the fighting has stopped--at last!" Mr. Everett answered. He seemed too moved to say more.

"I don't know whether I feel more like praying or shouting," laughed Aunt Pen with two tears rolling down her cheeks.

From the extra which Jasper had brought in Mr. Everett read to them all the terms of the armistice to which Germany had agreed. Melodia and Maggie listened from the door.

"I feel all queer inside!" announced Pat.

Renee's breakfast lay before her, untouched. Aunt Pen, seeing the real distress on the child's face, divined the ache that lay in her heart. So that when Renee, unable to control herself longer, rushed toward the door she felt two quick arms fold about her and draw her close to a friendly shoulder.

"Dearie, tell us! Don't grieve by yourself!"

Then poor Renee buried her face; it was several moments before she could speak.

"I wish I was--there! Home, I mean--poor Susette is old--and has--only Gabriel! We worked so hard--we made a flag, Susette and I, and we tried to make it just like your Stars and Stripes; we put in the thirteen bars, 'cause I had counted--but not--nearly--enough stars! We'd promised Emile when peace came--he said that the Germans _would_ be beaten--we'd hang it from the corner of the roof, 'long side of Gabriel's old French flag! And"--the head went back against Penelope's shoulder--"I'm 'fraid Susette--will forget--and it--will not--be there!"

"She will remember, Renee, because right at this moment I know her heart and her mind are full of thoughts of you, just as you are homesick for her and the little cottage!"

Mr. Everett, who had been deeply moved by Renee's story, interposed some practical comfort.

"Renee, will you let me--by way of celebrating this day--send a money order to Susette in your name? Remember, child, how little we have suffered as compared to you and Susette and countless others--over there! You shall write her a little letter to go with it!"

"Oh, I will _like that_! And then Susette will surely know that I am with kind, generous friends!" The child's eyes were bright again. "And I will remind her where we put the flag and she can hang it out, for I think now there will be flags flying in France for a long time!"

"This must, of course, be a holiday," declared Aunt Pen.

"And let's just do things we've never done before," cried Pat.

At that moment Mr. Everett was called to the telephone. He returned greatly excited.

"Burns telephones from the Works that the men are forming a monster parade! They've got a band and helped themselves to every flag in the place! The city's gone mad! I must hurry away. Take the girls downtown! This November eleventh must be a day we will never forget--as long as we live!"

And as he hurried off he said to Renee in parting:

"Have that letter ready, my dear, and I will send the money order home at noon-time."

The girls rushed away to put on their wraps.

"May we stop for Sheila?" called Pat over the banister.

"Of course!" assented Penelope, glad that Pat wanted to share all her joys with her friends.

By the time they reached the downtown section the walks were thronged with people and the streets had been cleared of traffic for the marching hosts. The girls found a place on the curb. It seemed to them as though everyone had gone mad all at once and that they were as mad as anyone else! At every corner processions were forming, headed by any sort of a makeshift band and where not even a drum could be commandeered, tin pans and pails had been pressed into service! And through it all the incessant, deafening tumult of whistles!

Everyone was smiling! The sun had burst through the accumulated clouds of long years of war!

A group of men and girls from a shipyard marched by. Some of them were drawing a huckster's wagon they had seized and upon its load of potatoes and apples and cabbages they had placed a big ship's bell! One of their number rode on the wagon and with a huge sledge pounded the bell at regular intervals. They were all carrying flags, big and small, and one grimy man had a baby in his arms! The crowd on the curb cheered wildly and the man held the baby high in the air!

The marchers had to halt and while the man with the bell rested, they sang the Star Spangled Banner. Others took it up--it was carried down block after block, a rising wave of sound, a chorus of triumph! Pat and Sheila and Renee sang lustily and as they sang Pat felt her hand suddenly caught in a warm, tight clasp! It was her neighbor, a little bent woman with the dark eyes of the Italian race and a worn shawl over her head and shoulders. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but through them she was smiling like the others! Pat was too young to guess the tragedy of sacrifice that might lie behind those tears, but she was not too young to sense the common joy and thankfulness and privilege they shared! So she squeezed the worn fingers and smiled back into the little old woman's face!

"Here come the men from the Works!" cried Aunt Pen, standing on tiptoe to look over the crowd. The shipbuilders had passed on. Along surged the approaching host, fifteen thousand strong, men and women! They had stripped the works of flags and carried them now high in the air with arms that could not tire! The discordant blasts of their band was heavenly music to their ears! Old men stepped along like boys; scattered through the lines were hundreds of girls in their working overalls and caps.

Renee was puzzled. These men, many of them, did not look like the Americans she had seen! One of them shouted out in a strange tongue, but he carried a banner that said "We are for the U.S.A." Perhaps, like herself, he had come to America for refuge and was giving now of his strength and loyalty to the mother country he had sought.

"Can't we march, too, Aunt Pen?" cried Pat.

Some one from the lines shouted to them to come in! They made a place in the ranks for them and even the little old woman with the shawl joined the procession. A voice from behind hailed them and Pat saw her father marching with his men.

"Could a day be more wonderful? But I am as hungry as a bear," declared Pat at luncheon. "And, oh joy, chicken and biscuits! What shall we do this afternoon, Aunt Pen?"

"Dear me, Pat, do you think as fast as you talk? For the sake of your digestion I shall keep the plans for this afternoon a secret until you are through luncheon! But it is going to be something you'll _just_ love!" and Aunt Pen imitated perfectly Pat's characteristically enthusiastic tone.

"Aunt Pen, I'll choke if you don't tell even a _teeny_ word! Let us guess!"