"The Methodist church is on fire!" yelled the Sport from her high perch on the beam, but there was no need to say more, for several other men had arrived, all in red shirts and firemen's helmets, while others were seen racing from all directions towards the fire-house. In a few moments' time a crowd had collected, each one bent in lending a hand, and all shouting with full vocal power as if they thought-so it seemed to Nathalie-their shouts would put out the fire.

In the midst of this clamorous din, another rubber-booted individual appeared, not only in fireman's regalia, but with a big bra.s.s trumpet.

On this he blew a mighty blast, and then with much gesticulation bellowed his orders to the men.

A final order from the chief, as the man with the trumpet proved to be, and the six or eight men holding the ropes of the engine started at breakneck speed down the hill. They were followed by a crowd of shouting men, women, hooting boys, and crying children, each one frenzied with excitement and with the avowed purpose of being first at the fire.

The girls, for by this time Edith had descended from her perilous perch, stood silent and watched the engine whiz down the slope leading to the town, the red-shirted firemen in front of it shouting angrily in their endeavors to stop the rear men from pushing it down on their heels too rapidly.

But Edith, who was never still two minutes if there was anything going on, with a wild, "Hoopla, I'm going to see the fire!" started in the wake of the hooting mob, running at a speed that soon made her one of the rank and file that went plunging down the hill.

Helen's eyes followed the flying figure, and then, with a "Come on, don't let the Sport outdo us!" she was racing after her. Nathalie, bewildered by this strange and novel experience that had leaped into her life, stood still, uncertain what to do. She felt a sudden abhorrence of mingling with the fire-crazed crowd that surged before her. Brought up to keep away from these spectacular affairs of the city, she felt she would be transgressing all laws of decorum if she followed her friends.

But the impulse to do as the other Pioneers did spurred her on, and with a quick leap forward she cast all conventionalities to the wind, and started on a dead run to catch up with Helen.

The girls were too quick for her and she arrived in front of the church only to make one more of a densely packed crowd of fire-seekers standing opposite the burning building, wild-eyed and weirdly pale from the reflection of the flaming tongues of red, which darted upward with a licking greediness that made the wooden building crack and snap under their devouring greed.

Spying Edith a few feet away, she hastily pushed through the jam of people to her side, only to hear her scream frantically, "Look out, Nathalie!" But the warning came too late, for a shower of water had already struck her in the back with terrific force, almost bowling her over. Ugh! it was running down her back with such icy spray that she screamed aloud, and then shrank back as jeering laughter from those standing by greeted her mishap.

But their merriment was short-lived, as the water deluge came again and Nathalie saw the contortions that shot from face to face of her neighbors as with shrill cries they tried to dodge to one side in their frantic endeavors to escape. In the midst of the confusion some one suddenly bellowed, "Run for your lives, the hose has burst!"

There were more shouts of dismay from the crowd of struggling, fighting figures, and then they had scattered. Edith by this time had grabbed Nathalie by the hand and in a moment or so she was safe on a neighboring porch.

"O dear, what will they do?" lamented Edith. "That hose is the only one in town!" For a few moments it looked as if not only the church but the parsonage and the adjacent buildings were to fall victims to the blazing flames that swept upward and outward with shooting jets between tall columns of black rolling smoke.

"They are going to form a bucket brigade!" shouted Edith suddenly into Nathalie's ear. The words had barely pa.s.sed her lips when she dropped her companion's cold fingers, and was racing with a crowd of men, women, and boys towards a pond a short distance away.

Nathalie stood still and gazed with suppressed excitement at this new development of the fire-crazed people. It seemed to her as if every one in Westport must have owned a bucket from the number of people that sped-as if magic swept-towards the pond, where a long line of human beings, with a deftness and quickness that amazed her, were already pa.s.sing buckets from one to the other and then on to the firemen who formed a line across the road in front of the church.

Each fireman would grab a bucket, pa.s.s it on to his mate, who in turn pa.s.sed it on to the next one, and so on, until its contents had been splashed on the seething flames. Then just as quickly it was shoved by way of another line back to the pond to be filled again and once more hurried on its journey of rescue.

"Come, get busy!" some one suddenly yelled at this crisis. "They are forming another line at the pump!" Nathalie swung about to see Fred Tyson holding out to her an empty bucket. The unexpectedness of this new demand upon her overwrought nerves tempted her to scurry to parts unknown, as she backed away from Fred with the startled exclamation, "O dear, no!"

Fred, realizing how she felt, looked down at her with a rea.s.suring smile as he answered, "Come, you must help; you are a Pioneer-it will be a fine experience for you!" Nathalie, without a word, grabbed the bucket and in another second was running swiftly by the side of this new friend as he guided her to the pump.

An hour later Nathalie appeared at the corner of the street leading to her home. Weary, bedraggled, sooted from head to foot, and with gleaming beads of perspiration running over her face, she was still jubilant. She had been to a real fire, and, what is more, had helped to put it out.

For the buckets had done their work, and although the church stood a framework of glowing embers, the parsonage and other buildings had been saved.

She was so glad when she saw she was nearing her home, that, as she informed Fred, who had accompanied her, she felt like dancing a jig on her head from sheer joy, although she was not only tired to the verge of distraction, but faint from hunger.

"Oh, and there's Mother! I guess she's been almost worried to death,"

she exclaimed as she spied her mother standing on the veranda anxiously peering down the path.

"Well, I guess she has been almost worried to death!" exclaimed a voice, as a white-robed figure stepped out from the shadows of the trees on the lawn.

It was Lucille. "If it hadn't been for me, Nathalie Page," she emphasized with upheld finger, "your mother would have been down to the fire herself. She was sure you were the first one burned to death. Why, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, Nathalie Page!" she averred indignantly.

But there was no need to lecture Nathalie further, for her heart had been thumping violently in nervous dread all the way home, and she was already scurrying up the walk to the stoop. "Oh, Mother," she panted, "did you think something dreadful had happened to me?"

"Well, I was quite nervous about you for a time," replied her mother rather cheerily for one who had been almost worried to death, as she put her arm around the tired girl. "Lucille obligingly started to look for you, and met Dr. Homer, who said you were all right, helping put the fire out as a bucket maiden. But, my dear, you are all wet, and hungry, too, I'll warrant."

"You just believe I am," cried Nathalie. "But, oh, Mother, I have had such an adventurous day! Do let me have something to eat, for I'm just about starved, but, O dear, where's Fred Tyson; he came home with me?"

Fred was all right, having the cosiest of chats with Lucille-whom all men adored from youth to old age-as they walked up the path to the veranda. Would he come in and have supper? Why, he guessed he would, for he hadn't had a mouthful since noon.

"By the Lord Harry, is that you, Blue Robin?" spoke a voice from the couch as Nathalie ushered Fred into the hall. "Gee, but you are as black as a colored 'pusson,'" quoth d.i.c.k, as he rose from the couch and hobbled towards her.

It was a most exciting supper, eagerly devoured by Fred and Nathalie, as between bites, with glowing eyes, each one told of her or his experience. Nathalie told of the ringing of the fire bell, the exploits of the Sport, and how she did duty at the pump.

"Oh, Mother, it has just been a regular red-letter day!" she cried at length, "and I'm never again going to despise Edith Whiton for being sporty, for if it hadn't been for her, I just believe the whole town would have burned down!"

The second day after the fire was a Pioneer Rally day, a Camp Fund day it had been called, for it was at this meeting that the Pioneers were to decide upon the entertainments they proposed having in order to raise the money to pay the cost of two or three weeks at camp that summer. One or two affairs had been held during the winter and spring, so that a small nucleus had been banked, but if this was not increased the hearts of the Pioneers would be "wrung with woe," as the Sport had put it.

After the usual formalities of the Rally were over, Mrs. Morrow called the names of those who for some meritorious act or word were to receive badges of merit. To Nathalie's astonishment her name was called, and at a shove from Helen the dazed girl went forward, and received three white stars, one for suggesting the search-party and sticking to her colors in the face of discouragement, another for telling stories to Rosy, and the last for planning and getting up the Story Club. She received the stars, Mrs. Morrow explained, as badges of merit were not given until a Pioneer had pa.s.sed all tests and was a member of the first order.

The Sport received two badges-being a first cla.s.s Pioneer-one for winning a contest in wigwagging, and another for ringing the bell for the church fire. Helen was also the recipient of a badge for her planning and excellent supervision of the Flower hike, while the Scribe received one for her skill in editing the "Pioneer," which had come to be a journal not only of news, but of information.

"And now," cried their Director, as she finished distributing the badges, "I am going to talk about the Camping Fund. As you all know, we must have one or two entertainments to raise money for that purpose.

Several ideas have been submitted in compliance with my request for suggestions from the girls, but unfortunately, while a number are very good, only a few will suit our purpose. There is one, however, that is both patriotic and colonial, but it would require a large lawn and I am at a loss what to say about it. I think you all understand that the Pioneer who suggests the best entertainment, although her name is to be kept secret until the end of the season, is to receive some kind of a reward."

"Could we not ask Mrs. Van Vorst again if she would let us have her grounds?" ventured Louise Gaynor somewhat timidly, realizing that the lady in question was not in favor with the Pioneers because of her rather eccentric ways.

"Well, I should say not!" broke in Edith. "She has refused two or three times already, and if there is an insane person there-" She stopped abruptly, rebuked by a warning look from Mrs. Morrow.

"No, I do not think I would bother Mrs. Van Vorst again," said that lady. "But suppose I name a committee to see if they cannot scour the town and find a lawn." Helen, Louise, and Nathalie were then named to perform this duty.

During this discussion Nathalie's eyes had sparkled with suppressed emotion as she remembered her visit to the gray house, accompanied by an overwhelming desire to tell what she knew. Oh, wouldn't it create a sensation? But she had given her word, and like the Spartan boy, although desire was gnawing at her vitals, she kept still and smiled in evident ease.

"There is another entertainment that has been suggested," continued the Director. "It is an excellent idea for it will put you all to work thinking. It is to be called Pioneer Stunts, which means that each one of you is to be responsible for a recitation, a tableau, a song, a playlet, in fact anything that is colonial or pioneer in character. Each Pioneer is to work out her own idea, and all ideas are to be kept secret until after the performance, when a vote will be taken as to the best stunt-that is, the best idea, and the stunt acted the best-and then the name of the author will be revealed."

The girls received this notice with applause, and each one immediately began to suggest one thing and another until warned by Mrs. Morrow again that the ideas were to remain secrets. After some further discussion it was decided to have the Pioneer Stunts the first part of June, at Seton Hall, Mrs. Morrow suggesting that the girls make it a Rose party and serve ice-cream and strawberries on the lawn.

Nathalie came home very enthusiastic about the Pioneer Stunt entertainment, and immediately set to work to jot down the idea that had come to her at the Rally. In the midst of writing her mother joined her and sat down to sew.

"Oh, Mother," exclaimed the girl happily, "I'm awfully busy."

"And working very hard, I see," interposed Mrs. Page, smiling at her daughter's animated face, as she patted the sunburned arm resting on the table.

"Yes," replied Nathalie, "I have an awful lot to do." And then she told about the entertainment, and what she was planning. With a long drawn sigh she cried, "Oh, Mumsie, I'm learning a terrible lot of useful things."

"I see you are," a.s.sented her mother, "and I am proud of you."

"Oh, but they have not been a bit easy!" The girl's face grew grave.

"Sometimes I have thought I would have to give right up, but I haven't,"

she added with an emphatic little nod. And then for the first time she told her mother about the motto, "I Can," and what a great help she had found it.

"Yes, Daughter, every little thing Miss I Can has helped you to do has been an overcome."

"Indeed they have been overcomes," a.s.sented the girl with another emphatic shake of her brown head. "Washing dishes-oh, how I used to hate that job-now I don't mind it so much; cooking, telling stories to Rosy, going to the fire, yes, and even getting up the Story Club. I have just braced up, and then the first thing I knew, presto! the job was done!