"And all six of the Busters are full of mischief," went on the complaining one. "I wish they were not going to the same place we are to camp."

"Why, Bess!" exclaimed Mina.

"I _do_ wish that. They'll be around under foot all the time. And they'll play tricks, and be rough and rude, and I know they will spoil the summer for us."

"You go on!" came from Frank, with some scorn. "I guess I can hold up my end against the Busters."

"Just wait and see," prophesied Bessie, shaking her head. "I feel very sure that, the Busters and the Go-Ahead Club will not get along well together at Lake Honotonka."

"It takes two parties for an argument," said Wyn Mallory, quietly. "And in spite of their mischief I believe in the Busters."

"Wait and see if what I say isn't true!" snapped Bessie, and turned off into a side street toward her own home.

CHAPTER III

POLLY

Wyn Mallory was one of those girls whom people called "different."

Not that there was a thing really odd about her. She was happy, healthy, more than a little athletic, of a sanguine temperament, and possessed a deal of tact for a girl of her age.

But there was a quality in her character that balanced her better than most girls are. That foundation of good sense on which only can be erected a lasting character, was Wyn's. She was just as girlish and "fly-away" at times, as Frances Cameron herself, or Percy Havel; but she always stopped short of hurting another person's feelings and she seemed to really enjoy doing things for others, which her mates sometimes acclaimed as "tiresome."

And don't think there was a mite of self-consciousness about all this in Wyn Mallory's make-up, for there wasn't. She enjoyed being helpful and kind because that was her nature--not for the praise she might receive from her older friends.

Wyn was a natural leader. Such girls always are. Without a.s.serting themselves, other girls will look up to them, and copy them, and follow them. Whereas a bad, or ill-natured, or haughty girl must have some means of bribing the weak-minded ones to gain a following at all.

The Mallory family was a small one. Wyn had a little sister; but there was a difference of twelve years between them. The family was a very affectionate one, and Papa Mallory, Mamma Mallory, and Wyn all worshipped at the shrine of little May.

So when at supper that Friday evening something was said about certain drygoods needed for the little one, Wyn offered at once to spend her Sat.u.r.day forenoon shopping.

She had plenty to do that morning; Sat.u.r.day morning is always a busy time for any school girl in the upper grades, and Wyn was well advanced at Denton Academy. But she hastened out by nine o'clock and went down town.

Denton was a pretty town, with good stores, a courthouse, well stocked library and several churches of various denominations. In the center was an ancient Parade Ground--a broad, well-shaped public park, with a huge flagstaff in the middle of the main field, and Civil War cannon flanking the entrances.

Denton had a history. On this open field the Minute Men had marched and counter-marched; and before Revolutionary days, even, the so-called "train-bands" had paraded here. Like Boston Common, Denton's Parade Ground was a plot devoted for all time to the people, and could be used for no other purpose but that of a public park.

The streets that bordered the three sides of the Parade Ground (for it was of flat-iron shape) were the best residential streets of the town; yet Market Street--the main business thoroughfare--was only a square away from one side of the park.

Wyn Mallory on this bright May morning walked briskly along the shaded side of the park and turned off at Archer Street to reach the main stem of the town, where the shops stood in rows and the electric cars to Maynbury had the right of way in the middle of the street.

Her very first call was at Mr. Erad's drygoods and notion store. His shop was much smaller than some of the modern "department" stores that had of late appeared in Denton; but the old store held the conservative trade. Mr. Erad had been in trade, at this very corner, from the time he was a smooth-faced young man; and now his hair and beard were almost white.

He was a pleasant, cheerful--and usually charitable--gentleman, with rosy cheeks and gold-rimmed spectacles. He spent most of his time "on the floor," greeting old customers, attracting new ones with his courtesy, and generally overseeing the salesmen.

He usually had a pleasant word and a hand-shake for Wyn when she entered his store; but this morning the old gentleman did not even notice her as she came through one of the turnstile doors.

He stood near, however, speaking with a girl of about Wyn's age--a girl who was a total stranger to the captain of the Go-Ahead Club. The stranger was rather poorly dressed. She wore shabby gloves, and a shabby hat, and shabby shoes. Besides, both her dark frock and the hat were "ages and ages" behind the fashion.

Her clothes were really so ugly that the girl herself did not have a chance to look her best. Wyn realized that after the second glance. And she saw that the strange girl was almost handsome.

She was as big as Grace Hedges; but she was dark. Her hair was beautifully crinkled where it lay flat against the sides of her head over her ears. At the back there was a great roll, and it was glossy and well cared-for. Even a girl who cannot afford to dress in the mode can make her hair beautiful by a little effort.

This girl had made that effort and, furthermore, she had made herself as neat as anyone need be.

In addition to her beautiful hair, the stranger's other attractions can be enumerated as a long, well formed nose, well defined eyebrows and long lashes, and deep gray eyes that looked almost black in the shade of her broad brow. Her skin was lovely, although she was very much bronzed by the sun. A rose-flush showed through this tan and aided her red, full lips to give color to her face. Her teeth were two splendid, perfect rows of dazzling white; her chin was beautifully molded. This fully developed countenance was lit by intelligence, as well, and, with her well rounded figure and gentle, deprecating manner, Wyn thought of her instantly as a big helpless child.

Mr. Erad was speaking very sternly to her, and that, alone, made Wyn desire to take her part. She could not bear to hear anybody scold a person so timid and humble. And at every decisive phrase Mr. Erad uttered, Wyn could see her wince.

"I cannot do it. I do not see why I should," declared the storekeeper.

"Indeed, there are many reasons why I should not. Yes--I know. I employed John Jarley at one time. But that was years ago. He would not stay with me. He was always trying something new. And he never stuck to a thing long enough for either he--or anybody else--to find out whether he was fitted for it or not.

"Hold on! I take that back. I guess there's _one_ man in town,"

said Mr. Erad, with almost a snarl, "who thinks John Jarley stuck long enough on one job."

Wyn, frankly listening, but watching the girl and Mr. Erad covertly, saw the former's face flame hotly at the shot. But her murmured reply was too low for Wyn to hear.

"Ha! I know nothing was ever proved against him. But decent people know the other party, and know that he is square. John Jarley got out of town and stayed out of town. That was enough to show everybody that he felt guilty."

"You are wrong, sir," said the dark girl, her voice trembling, but audible now in her strong emotion. "You are wrong. It was my mother's ill health that took us into the woods. And the ill-natured gossip of the neighbors--just such things as you have now repeated--troubled my mother, too. So father took us away from it all."

"If he was honest, he made a great mistake in running away at that time," a.s.serted Mr. Erad.

"No, he made no mistake," returned the girl, her fine eyes flashing. "He did the right thing. He saved my mother agony, and made her last years beautiful. My father did no wrong in either case, sir."

"Well, well, well!" snapped Mr. Erad. "I cannot discuss the matter with you. We should not agree, I am sure. And I can do nothing for you."

"Wait, please! give me a chance! Let me work for you to pay for these things we need. I will work faithfully----"

"I have no place for you."

"Oh, sir----"

"My goodness, girl! _No_, I tell you. Isn't that enough? Beside, you are not well dressed enough to wait upon my customers. And you could not earn enough here to pay your board, dress decently, and pay for any bill of goods that you--or your father--may want."

The girl turned away. There was a bit of dingy veiling attached to the front of her old-fashioned hat, and Wyn saw her pull this down quickly over her face. The listener knew _why_, and she had to wink her own eyes hard to keep back the tears.

She deliberately turned her back upon old Mr. Erad, whom she was usually so glad to see, and went hastily down the aisle. From her distant station by the notion counter she saw the drooping figure of the strange girl leave the store.

Wyn Mallory was worried. She could not see a forlorn cat on the street, or a homeless dog shivering beside a garbage can, that she was not tempted to "do something for it."

Dave Shepard often laughingly said that it was an adventure to go walking with Wyn Mallory, One never knew what she was going to see that needed "fixing." And Dave might have added, that if Wyn had him for escort, she usually got these wrong things "fixed."

She now hastened through her purchasing, not with any definite object in view, save that she wanted to get out of the store. Mr. Erad was not at all the nice, charitable man whom she had always supposed him to be.

That is, it looked so now to the impulsive, warm-hearted girl.