All of the girls were tremendously excited as they walked into the office; it was the first time they had ever met other officers, or visited any Scout office. Fortunately, Miss Phillips had insisted this time that they all wear their Scout uniforms, and in these they felt more at ease.

Instead of finding only one or two officials, the place was crowded with them. The girls stepped back shyly, while Miss Phillips made the advances.

"We are Girl Scouts from Miss Allen's Boarding School--in Pennsylvania,"

she explained; "we're seeing Washington, and, of course, we couldn't miss the Girl Scout Headquarters."

The hostesses were most cordial, showing the girls everything, and then inviting them to a big rally that afternoon.

"That reminds me," remarked one of the officers, who was evidently a representative from National Headquarters in New York City, "I have a list of Girl Scouts here, from all parts of the country, who want to correspond with other Girl Scouts. Would you girls, any of you, like to take some names?"

Marjorie was the first to accept the suggestion. "Oh, I would!" she cried. "That would be lots of fun!"

The officer handed the list to her, and the girls all crowded about to read the names, hoping that perhaps they might come across one that they knew. But, recognizing none, they selected at random, while Marjorie placed checks here and there in the list.

While she was still thus occupied, her eye fell suddenly upon a name which seemed familiar. It aroused a vague sort of expectation within her, as of some old a.s.sociation. Where had she heard it before: "Jennie Perkins," Trenton, N. J.?

She wrinkled her brows for a moment, lost in thought. But her uncertainty lasted only a second; in a flash, the significance of it dawned upon her. That was the a.s.sumed name under which Frieda Hammer must have worked at that Fifth Avenue tea-room! Could this girl--evidently a Scout, and living in Trenton--possibly be Frieda?

Marjorie's heart leaped for joy, but she resolutely put down her hopes.

The whole thing was most improbable. The girl might easily return to Trenton in quest of work, but Marjorie knew that her former dislike of their troop, particularly of Ruth Henry, would prejudice her against ever becoming a Girl Scout. And Frieda Hammer had never showed any signs of sociability; she was the last girl in the world to desire to make new friends by writing to unknown correspondents.

Still, Marjorie decided, she might as well select this name as any, for all were unknown to her. She had nothing whatever to lose, and there was one chance in a thousand that "Jennie Perkins" might be Frieda. Hastily making a check beside the name, she returned the list to the officer.

Although Miss Phillips had intended to take the girls home after luncheon, she changed her mind at their entreaties, and allowed them to remain for the rally.

It was a magnificent sight to behold hundreds of Girl Scouts, all dressed in uniform, gather together in the great hall, and to hear them join, as in one voice, in the pledge to the flag and the oath of the organization. More than one of the members of Pansy troop felt a tightening sensation at their throats when the great throng of girls sang the "Star Spangled Banner." The meeting brought to them an impression that they would never forget, and prepared them in one way to realize what it would mean to be part of a great organized camp.

They left the hall as soon as the address was over, in order that they might make an early train home; for, instead of returning to Miss Allen's school, each girl was to go to her own home, and Miss Phillips was anxious that they all reach their destinations before dark.

The rally had been the most fitting conclusion that Miss Phillips could have conceived. She realized this when she saw how deeply it had impressed the girls.

"A glorious end of a glorious trip!" said Ethel enthusiastically, as they got into the train.

And the shining eyes of the others confirmed their approval of her opinion.

CHAPTER XXI

LETTERS

Marjorie could hardly wait until she reached home, so excited was she about writing to the unknown Girl Scout. It would be a difficult matter, too, for she wanted to write a general letter, and yet one which, if Jennie Perkins should by any chance turn out to be Frieda Hammer, would be appropriate.

The family were all so glad to see her and so anxious to hear about the trip, that she at once gave up the idea of writing that night. Of course, her mother would expect her to go to church the following day; but after Sunday School she would undoubtedly be free.

But again her hopes were frustrated. Ruth sought her immediately after cla.s.s and walked home with her.

"Let's go for a walk, Marj," she said. "Harold's coming over for me at your house, and I thought maybe Jack would go, too."

Marjorie frowned slightly; she did not particularly enjoy Harold Mason's society, and she did so long to write that letter. But she did not care to disclose any of her plans to Ruth; she had no desire to encounter her ridicule.

"All right; if we don't stay out late. I asked mother to have an early supper, for I want to write letters to-night!"

"John Hadley?" teased Ruth. "By the way, Harold knows him. He goes to Princeton, too, now."

"He does! You never told me----"

"I never thought you were particularly interested in Harold Mason, Marj!"

"Only as your friend, Ruth," laughed Marjorie.

The walk, just as Marjorie antic.i.p.ated, was not particularly interesting to her. Ruth monopolized the conversation, succeeding in keeping both boys entertained by giving it a decidedly personal flavor. As Marjorie was almost entirely left out, she became bored, and grew impatient to get back. At last, when they were home, she told her mother she was going to lock herself in her room that evening to avoid disturbance.

It was only after a great many attempts that she produced a letter which met with her own satisfaction. She wanted it to be long enough, yet not too long; appropriate for any Girl Scout, and also, if Jennie Perkins should turn out to be Frieda, applicable and friendly towards the runaway.

"I'm just going to send this," she thought; "there's no use writing it over."

She held it up, however, and read it through for the third time.

"DEAR JENNIE,

"I hope you will excuse my using your first name right at the beginning, but since we are both Girl Scouts--really sisters, you know--I think it would be nice to get well acquainted right away!

"What kind of a troop do you belong to? What is your flower name?

And how many girls are there in it? It just seems as if I want to ask a million questions at once, but I will try to wait patiently till you answer.

"Our Captain, Miss Phillips,--she is simply wonderful--took eight of us first-cla.s.s Scouts to Washington for three days. We had a perfect time, lived in a big hotel, and saw all the sights and Sat.u.r.day morning we went to the Scout office and it was there that I got your name so we could correspond.

"And that reminds me, did you ever live in New York? I knew a girl--or rather I knew of her--and her name was the same as yours, who lived there once.

"We went camping last year and had the loveliest time! If I ever meet you, I will tell you all about it but it would take too long in a letter. Next year our Captain says maybe we will take a canoe trip! Wouldn't that be fun?

"I am crazy to hear about where you go to school and what cla.s.s you're in! I'm a soph.o.m.ore and I go to Miss Allen's boarding school.

"We have another week of vacation here at home so I wish you would write to this address before I go back to school. Then I'll try to answer promptly, too.

"Your Sister Scout, MARJORIE WILKINSON."

After the letter was posted, Marjorie waited breathlessly for an answer.

She watched for the postman faithfully, refusing to go away from the house when he was due. But three days pa.s.sed by without her hearing a word.

On the fourth day, she became so restless and nervous that her mother noticed that something was wrong, and asked what the trouble was.

"Nothing, only I'm corresponding with a Girl Scout in Trenton, and I hoped I'd get a letter before I go back. And to-morrow's Friday--there are only two days left."

Mrs. Wilkinson gazed searchingly at her daughter. Marjorie had always been truthful, but this explanation did not sound plausible. Girls did not usually get so worked up over letters from other girls whom they had never seen. That part of the explanation was true, she knew; for Marjorie could not conceal her eagerness for the postman, and her depression when she received nothing. But Mrs. Wilkinson feared that her interest had something to do with John Hadley, and she sighed. Marjorie was too young to care seriously for anyone yet.

But Friday morning's mail brought the coveted letter. Marjorie seized it eagerly and ran off with it to her own room. a.s.suredly, it would tell her something about Frieda!