The women, who were evidently coming from a tea or some such social function, simply surrounded Marjorie's table and purchased lavishly.

They exclaimed admiringly over everything, and bought so fast that the girls had to summon extra aides to help them. Finally, when they had gone, Marjorie had a minute to count the contents of her cash box. She had fifty-six dollars and twenty-five cents!

But her triumph was not yet over, for scarcely had she put the money away when a slender little woman, who had all the while been watching proceedings, approached, and called her to the side.

"I buy for Jones' store, in the village," she said quietly, "and I should like to offer you fifty dollars for the remainder of your stock."

Marjorie listened incredulously, making no attempt to hide her joy at the idea of the transaction. Glancing hastily at the clock, she saw that it was half-past four, within half an hour of closing. She accepted the woman's offer immediately.

"Thank you so much," she said. "You know it's for a good cause!"

"They are lovely things," remarked the buyer, sincerely. "Really, they are just what I have been looking for."

With trembling fingers, Marjorie and Lily folded the snowy articles gently and tied them into a bundle. It was simply wonderful to have nothing left over.

"Half an hour, and nothing to do!" said Marjorie, squeezing Lily around the waist. "Wasn't it the best luck, though!"

"Sh! Don't say anything! Let's pretend to be busy, and surprise Miss Phillips when she calls for a report!"

"And Ruth Henry, too!" added Marjorie, wickedly.

At quarter past five the last purchaser left the gymnasium, and Miss Phillips ordered the door to be closed.

"We'll leave things as they are," she said, "and come over to clear up to-night. In the meantime, you are to go back to the dormitory and prepare for supper. But there is one thing I want to know before you all leave," she concluded; "and that is--how much cash you each have. Did anyone, by any chance, sell out?"

"Yes, we did!" announced Ruth Henry, although the sandwich table had really been in charge of Elsie Lorimer.

"Fine! How much?"

"Thirty-two dollars--and some change!" Ruth glanced triumphantly at Marjorie.

"Anyone else?" inquired Miss Phillips.

"Yes," replied Marjorie. "Lily and I did. We have one hundred and six dollars, and twenty-five cents."

But amidst all the congratulations that followed, Marjorie thought only of one thing: that she had been able to answer Ruth's challenge! She had made the most of any booth--and she felt privileged to have a say in the direction to which the money should be applied! She would not be afraid to urge again the cause of Frieda Hammer, and the Scouts' Good Turn!

CHAPTER XV

THE SCOUT CHRISTMAS TREE

It was not until the following Friday evening, when each girl in charge of a table had made her report, that Miss Phillips was able to add up the total receipts from the sales at the bazaar. At last she looked up with a happy smile.

"Four hundred and twenty-two dollars!" she announced; and the girls broke into uproarious applause.

"Since this is our last meeting in the old year," she went on, "I especially want the new girls to take their Tenderfoot tests. But before that, and before we talk over the Christmas plans that Ruth Henry suggested several weeks ago, I desire to read you some letters.

"I went to the office of our little local newspaper, _The Star_, and asked whether any poor children had written to Santa Claus through them.

"The woman in charge was awfully nice; she smiled sort of tenderly, as if all the children belonged to her.

"'Indeed we have,' she replied, opening a drawer. 'Look at this bunch.'

"And she handed me these"--Miss Phillips held up a handful of torn, dirty pieces of all kinds of paper, except writing paper--"and I discovered there were thirty-two of them, all so quaint and funny. So I said I would put the matter up to you Scouts to-night, and report to her to-morrow."

"Oh, let's give them a party, and a tree, and the presents they want,"

cried Marjorie, anxious for everyone to know that she did not want to monopolize all of the money for Frieda.

"Read them, please, Captain!" begged Frances.

Miss Phillips opened two or three, selected one, and read slowly, apparently encountering difficulty in the spelling:

"Dear Santa Klaus:

"Pleas send me a dol that opens hur ise with love Mary Connelly."

After that she read half a dozen or so, each one as laboriously composed as the first, asking St. Nicholas to bring them the things nearest their hearts.

"But when could we have the party?" asked the Captain. "It's too soon to have it this Sat.u.r.day afternoon, and next week the older children will have school."

"Couldn't we have it at four o'clock?" suggested Ethel; "I should think we could keep them out until half-past five, and then we could take them home ourselves, because, of course, it would be too dark by then for them to go alone."

They decided upon Thursday afternoon, for the girls were to leave Miss Allen's at noon on Friday; and a hundred dollars was appropriated for the party and the presents.

The time seemed all too short for the committee in charge; indeed, every member of the troop served in some way. Miss Phillips took Frances and Ethel to the city with her to select the presents and the tree ornaments; four of the girls wrote the invitations, and half a dozen were to attend to the refreshments and decorations. Lily Andrews, because she was stout and jolly, was awarded the supreme honor of being Santa Claus; and she spent much time preparing her costume.

At last everything was in readiness, and the Scouts gathered in the gymnasium. A big tree stood in the center, glistening with tinsel and shining with brightly colored b.a.l.l.s. Underneath, attractively wrapped in Christmas paper and ribbon, the presents were invitingly piled. Santa Claus, with several of the girls who were to a.s.sist "him," was hidden in Miss Phillips's office.

The guests--everyone of the thirty-two ragged little children, and several additional younger brothers and sisters besides--arrived, dressed in what was probably their best clothes--just as the little Ruggles came to Carol's famous party in "The Birds' Christmas Carol."

Edith and Frances received them at the door and helped them remove their coats and hats.

With exclamations of "Oh!" and "Ah!" they stood perfectly still, lost in admiration of the Christmas tree. They had never seen such a lovely one before.

"Will everyone please sit down upon the pillows?" asked Miss Phillips, indicating a row of sofa cushions arranged around the tree.

Doris Sands and Emily Rankin gave out the popcorn and candy toys. The children were too much awe-struck to think of talking. They just sat still and gazed, all the while sucking their candy, and looking expectantly at the alluring parcels under the tree.

In a short time, from the direction of the office, a great chorus of song came:

"Silent night, holy night, All is calm, all is bright----"

the famous old Christmas carol that children and grown people everywhere love.

When the last notes of the song had died away, Edith Evans, the story-teller of the group, related the pretty little legend of "Why the Chimes Rang"--telling how a small boy, who had only ten cents to give at Christmas time, gave it with his whole heart, and the magical chimes, which sounded only for great gifts, and which had been silent now for many years, rang out through the clear stillness of that Christmas night.