The girl gasped, dropped the gun, and then broke into hysterical laughter as she cried, "Oh-is-that you?"

"Yes, it is I; Fred Tyson in the flesh!" rejoined the supposed murderer coolly, as with a stride he was at her side and, stooping picked up the gun.

The reaction was so great that for a moment Nathalie feared she was going to cry, but controlling herself by a strong effort she exclaimed, "Oh, I was sure you were a tramp," with a nervous giggle, "or a murderer intent on killing me, and then hiding my body in the thicket yonder."

She shuddered.

"Great guns!" Fred exclaimed as he looked the gun over. "It is lucky this thing didn't go off. By the Lord Harry, how did you come to be carrying it?"

Nathalie, with a long breath of relief that all was well after her fright, then told Fred how she came to be near the graveyard at that time. Then suddenly remembering that she had not a minute to lose, she cried hurriedly, "Oh, let us go on. I am afraid I am too late!"

"You're all hunky," returned Fred calmly. "You have plenty of time, for I overheard Mrs. Morrow tell Helen to postpone her Stunt until one of the last."

"But how did you come to be here, may I ask?" queried Nathalie as they turned to walk up.

"Oh, I was in the next room and heard Helen tell you to go and get something at her house. I started out to offer my services, but some one b.u.t.tonholed me for the next Stunt; I had forgotten I was in it. As soon as it was over I hurried out to find you, but you had skipped. I rushed after you, missed you, and then remembering that you would return this way as it is the shortest, sat down on one of the tombstones to wait for you. But you're the stuff, all right, Nathalie Page, you ought to have a medal for bravery."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Up went two hands in pretended subjugation.]

He suddenly pointed the gun and then pulled the trigger.

Nathalie gave a shrill scream in a spasm of apprehension, and jumped to one side. "Oh, please, don't do that, it might be loaded, you know!"

Fred threw his head back and burst into a hearty laugh. "Oh, ho, I see you are not as nervy as I thought," there was a mischievous glint in his merry black eyes. And then as if ashamed of torturing the nerve-racked girl he cried soothingly, "Don't you fret, Miss Blue Robin; there isn't any guess with me, I don't take chances. I saw it wasn't loaded when I first picked it up, but come, let's hurry!"

"Please don't tell any one I was afraid!" pleaded Nathalie, as they hastened on under the swaying branches of the trees that cast weird, fanciful designs on the moon-mantled path. "They will think me an awful coward and tease me unmercifully."

Fred a.s.sured her that he would keep mum, and added that she was not a coward, but a very brave girl. Then, in response to a challenge to race him to the Hall, they were off, Nathalie by this time having regained her usual poise and nerve. She won the race, for Fred, desiring to be gallant, dropped back a s.p.a.ce or two just at the right time, and thus allowed his partner to be the victor in this race of two blocks.

The gun was quickly delivered to Helen and then they hurried into the hall in time to see the portraits of Henry Hudson, Edward Winslow, William Penn, Governor Stuyvesant, and Captain Kidd and Henry Morgan, two pirates of pioneer fame. These colonial portraits were produced by their representatives standing behind a large wooden frame that had been made by the Scouts, gilded by the Pioneers, and then placed in front of a dark curtain.

Helen's Stunt proved to be a canvas background on which was painted a log cabin. At the door of this pioneer home stood Helen with a baby clinging to her skirts, pointing a gun at a skulking savage just disappearing beyond a very fair representation of a clump of trees. This picture of a mother of the wilderness was loudly encored, as it was significant of the hardy courage displayed by the women of those early days.

The last Stunt showed the Pioneers in line, each one with a big red letter pinned to the skirt of her uniform; the combination making the word "Pioneer Women." Giving bird-calls, building miniature log-cabins, making camp fires, jumping, throwing the lifeline, as well as making the motions of rowing and swimming, these and many other activities of the organization were performed. The girls ended by falling into line again and singing a farewell Pioneer song.

Mrs. Morrow now came forward, and after thanking the audience for their kind attention and aid in helping make the affair a success by buying tickets and by their presence, she announced that there would be another entertainment, a Flag Drill, to take place on the fourteenth of that month. It would be held in the rear of the home of Mrs. Van Vorst, that lady having kindly offered her lawn for the affair.

The faces of the Pioneers, with the exception of Nathalie's and Helen's, expressed unbounded surprise as they heard this announcement. As Fred Tyson and two other Scouts pa.s.sed slips of paper so that each one present could write her or his opinion as to the best Stunt of the evening, there was a merry clack of tongues as each girl queried how and when this wonderful thing had come to pa.s.s.

Lillie Bell, who had been watching Nathalie, suddenly leaned forward crying, "Nathalie Page, I just believe that you know all about it!"

Nathalie did her best to look bland and innocent when this accusation was hurled at her, but the query was as a match to fire, and instantly Nathalie was surrounded by a bevy of girls, all eagerly demanding that she tell them how it came about.

"O dear, how should I know?" she demanded with seeming indignation.

"There, I told you she knew," declared the Sport, who at that moment joined the group. "Her face betrays her! And then she is on the committee."

Nathalie turned and flashed at Edith angrily, "Well, if I do know I am not going to tell. If you want any information go and ask Mrs. Morrow."

Then feeling that things were growing desperate and that she might reveal what she had striven so hard to keep a secret, she broke from her tormentors and hurried into the hall.

Seeing Helen at that moment she dashed up to her, and grabbing her by the arm cried, "Helen, the girls are tormenting me to tell them about the lawn party; oh, do keep them from asking me again, for I am in mortal terror that I may tell something that should not be told just yet."

"All right," soothed her friend, "don't you bother about the girls finding out, I'll see to them. But here's Fred, he wants you to vote. By the way, have you heard that the Sport's Stunt has so far the greatest number of votes, and-"

But Helen had been carried off by one of the Scouts, and Nathalie turned to find Fred at her side eagerly demanding her vote.

"Why don't you vote for 'The First American Wash-Day'?" demanded the young man as he saw Nathalie hesitate and swing her pencil, lost in abstraction. "It will win, I think, and it was a good Stunt, too; well acted out. Edith deserves credit."

"Do you think so?" flashed Nathalie. She colored angrily. "I do not agree with you. I think-" She stopped, compressed her lips, and then added coolly, "I shall vote for Helen, for I consider her Stunt the best one of the evening." She wrote the name of the Stunt hurriedly, signed her name, and then handed the card to Fred, who was regarding her with a puzzled expression on his face.

He took the card and turned to go, but seeing that the floor had been cleared for dancing he stopped, and swinging about asked Nathalie if he could have the next dance. Nathalie a.s.sented, although she did not feel in the mood for dancing just at that moment.

"You won't mind waiting a moment, will you?" asked Fred. "I have got to turn in my cards. Then I see this is a square dance, and I want a waltz with you. Are you angry with me?" he asked wonderingly as he saw that Nathalie's eyes still gleamed fire and that her cheeks were bright red.

The girl looked up at him absently and then, suddenly comprehending that she was acting rather rudely towards this new friend, cried laughing, "Angry with you? Indeed, no! I _am angry_ with-some one," she added bitterly, her glance suddenly falling on Edith. "But there, return your cards and then we will dance."

Five minutes later as Fred swung his partner lightly up and down the hall to waltz time, Nathalie forgot all the unpleasant jars of the evening in the enjoyment of the moment. But later, as they hurried out on the veranda for a breath of fresh air, she remembered how rudely she had acted and felt as if she ought to make some kind of an explanation to Fred for her seeming rudeness. Then it suddenly came to her that perhaps he might think she was jealous of Edith. Oh, no, she was not jealous-she was willing Edith should win the highest number of votes, only it did seem a bit hard to have to give all the glory up to some one else, when it rightfully belonged to her, and then Edith _had been_ mean about it.

"Please don't think I didn't want Edith to win," she burst forth as they seated themselves in a cozy corner where she could see the dancers in the hall. "Only-you see it is this way, I-"

But before she could finish, the Tike came rushing up all of a whirl crying, "Oh, Nathalie, your Stunt won! I'm awfully glad!" And she danced up and down in her delight at Nathalie's success.

"Oh, 'The First American Wash-Day' was Edith's Stunt," Nathalie hastened to explain, resolved that she would be a martyr to her wounded pride with a good grace.

"That didn't win the highest vote, but your Stunt did," retorted Carol jubilantly; "the one with the old Dutchwoman putting the kiddies to bed.

And that Dutch lullaby-oh, Nathalie, where did you learn it?"

Before Nathalie could answer Carol had skipped away, leaving the girl with a strange expression on her face as she stared at Fred with mystified eyes. "Do you suppose I really won it?" she demanded after a pause. "I thought you said Edith's Stunt was the winner."

"So I heard," was Fred's reply. "But then, Miss Nathalie, I am awfully glad your Stunt won. It was a peach, I thought myself, but I heard-"

"Oh, I don't care about that," cried Nathalie. There was a quiver to her voice. "I don't deserve it; oh, I have been awfully mean, and yet I have been calling Edith mean-" She stopped abruptly. How queerly it had turned out!

Catching a rather strange look in her companion's eyes she exclaimed, "Oh, indeed I was willing that Edith should win-I don't care a snap about it myself-only, you see it was this way." She floundered for a moment and then with a sudden catch in her breath leaned towards Fred crying, "If I tell you something, will you swear never to reveal it?"

Fred's face brightened; he was delighted to think Nathalie considered him worthy of her confidence, and lost no time in a.s.suring her of this fact. But the girl was thinking of only one thing, and that was that she was going to break her silence in regard to Edith and unburden herself of what had been causing her a good deal of discomfort all the evening.

Nathalie talked rapidly and in a few minutes Fred was in possession of the facts about "The First American Wash-Day," and how it had come about that although the idea was Nathalie's, Edith had won the glory of it without the work.

"Say, but you're game!" declared Fred admiringly, as Nathalie finished her story. "It was a fine thing for you not to tell; I don't blame you for feeling mean about it. But the Sport had no right to use it-"

"Well, never mind now," cried Nathalie, "it is all over with and I am glad I didn't tell any one but you, and you won't break your word, will you? The word of a Scout, you know," added the girl archly.

Fred laughingly a.s.sured her that his word as a gentleman was sufficient and as binding as that of a Scout. Then as they discussed the Scout oath, its pledges, and so forth, Dr. Homer appeared and asked his little hike-mate if he might have the pleasure of a dance with her.

Nathalie smilingly a.s.sured him she would be most happy and then with a good-by to Fred, the quaint little figure in its queer Dutch cap and flowered gown followed the doctor into the hall.

The long antic.i.p.ated fourteenth of June had arrived, and the level stretch of green gra.s.s with its circling hillocks in the rear of the gray house was ablaze with color. Beneath a high arch festooned with the red, white, and blue-the Pioneers' color again-stood a number of merry girls, each one gowned in white with a scarlet sash, and a red liberty cap, and holding in her hand a flag or small banner.

Every eye as well as tongue was on duty, as each girl triumphantly displayed her flag to her comrades, proudly claiming that it was an exact copy of one of the liberty banners used by the colonies preceding or during the Revolution.