Wyn's Camping Days; Or, The Outing of the Go-Ahead Club

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Wyn's Camping Days; Or, The Outing of the Go-Ahead Club Page 3

by Amy Bell Marlowe


  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 adeal of tact for a girl of her age.

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

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

  Wyn was a natural leader. Such girls always are. Without assertingthemselves, other girls will look up to them, and copy them, and followthem. Whereas a bad, or ill-natured, or haughty girl must have somemeans 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 therewas a difference of twelve years between them. The family was a veryaffectionate one, and Papa Mallory, Mamma Mallory, and Wyn allworshipped at the shrine of little May.

  So when at supper that Friday evening something was said about certaindrygoods needed for the little one, Wyn offered at once to spend herSaturday forenoon shopping.

  She had plenty to do that morning; Saturday morning is always a busytime for any school girl in the upper grades, and Wyn was well advancedat Denton Academy. But she hastened out by nine o'clock and went downtown.

  Denton was a pretty town, with good stores, a courthouse, well stockedlibrary and several churches of various denominations. In the center wasan ancient Parade Ground--a broad, well-shaped public park, with a hugeflagstaff in the middle of the main field, and Civil War cannon flankingthe entrances.

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

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

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

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

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

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

  He stood near, however, speaking with a girl of about Wyn's age--a girlwho was a total stranger to the captain of the Go-Ahead Club. Thestranger was rather poorly dressed. She wore shabby gloves, and a shabbyhat, 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 achance to look her best. Wyn realized that after the second glance. Andshe saw that the strange girl was almost handsome.

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

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

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

  Mr. Erad was speaking very sternly to her, and that, alone, made Wyndesire to take her part. She could not bear to hear anybody scold aperson so timid and humble. And at every decisive phrase Mr. Eraduttered, 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. Iemployed John Jarley at one time. But that was years ago. He would notstay with me. He was always trying something new. And he never stuck toa thing long enough for either he--or anybody else--to find out whetherhe 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 longenough on one job."

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

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

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

  "If he was honest, he made a great mistake in running away at thattime," asserted Mr. Erad.

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

  "Well, well, well!" snapped Mr. Erad. "I cannot discuss the matter withyou. 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 thesethings 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 couldnot earn enough here to pay your board, dress decently, and pay for anybill of goods that you--or your father--may want."

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

  She deliberately turned her back upon old Mr. Erad, whom she was usuallyso glad to see, and went hastily down the aisle. From her distantstation by the notion counter she saw the drooping figure of the strangegirl 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 nottempted to "do somethin
g for it."

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

  She now hastened through her purchasing, not with any definite object inview, save that she wanted to get out of the store. Mr. Erad was not atall the nice, charitable man whom she had always supposed him to be.That is, it looked so now to the impulsive, warm-hearted girl.

  Her mind was fixed upon the strange girl and her troubles. Wyn did notneglect the errand her mother had given her to do, although she hurriedher shopping.

  When she was out of the store, she drew a long breath. "I couldn'tbreathe in that place--not well," she told herself. "I wonder where thatpoor girl has gone now?"

  There was nobody to answer her, nor was the strange girl in sight. Wynfelt rather remorseful that she had not let her shopping wait andfollowed the strange girl out of the store immediately.

  The stranger might have been in desperate straits. Wyn could not imagineanybody begging for goods, and for work, especially after the way Mr.Erad had spoken, unless in great trouble.

  Wyn began to take herself seriously to task. The strange girl haddisappeared and she had not even tried to help her, or comfort her.

  "I might have gone out and offered some little help, or sympathy. How doI know what will become of her? And she may have no friends in town. Atleast, it is evident that she does not live here."

  There were several other errands to do. All the time, especially whileshe was on the street, she kept her eye open for the strange girl whosename she presumed must be "Jarley."

  "MY DEAR, I WILL BE YOUR FRIEND." _Page 30._]But Wyn did not see her anywhere, and it seemed useless to wander downMarket Street looking for her. So, when she had completed her purchases,she turned her face homeward.

  She went up past Mr. Erad's store again and turned through ArcherStreet. As she crossed into the park she looked for a settee to rest on,for unconsciously she had walked more briskly than usual.

  There, under a wide-limbed oak, was a green-painted seat, removed fromany other settee; but there was a figure on it.

  "There's room for two, I guess," thought Wyn; and then she made adiscovery that almost made her cry out aloud. Its occupant was the verygirl for whom she was in search!

  Wyn controlled her impulse to run forward, and approached the benchquite casually. Before she reached it, however, she realized that thedark girl was crying softly.

  Natural delicacy would have restrained Wyn from approaching the girl soabruptly. Only, she was deeply interested, and already knowing theoccasion for her tears, the captain of the Go-Ahead Club could notignore the forlorn figure on the bench.

  Without speaking, she dropped into the seat beside the strange girl, andput her hand on the other's shoulder.

  "My dear!" she said, when the startled gray eyes--all a-flood withtears--were raised to her own. "My dear, tell me all aboutit--_do_! If I can't help you, I will be your friend, and it willmake you feel lots better to tell it all to somebody who sympathizes."

  "Bu-but you ca-can't sympathize with me!" gasped the other, looking intoWyn's steady, brown eyes and finding friendliness and commiserationthere. "You--you see, you never knew the lack of anything good; you'renot poor."

  "No, I am not poor," admitted Wyn.

  "And I don't want charity!" cried the strange girl quickly.

  "I am not going to offer it to you. But I'd dearly love to be yourfriend," Wyn said. "You know--you're so pretty!" she added, impulsively.

  The girl flushed charmingly again. "I--I guess I'm not very pretty in myold duds, and with my nose and eyes red from crying."

  But she was really one of those few persons who are not made ugly bycrying. She had neither red eyes nor a red nose.

  "Do tell me what troubles you," urged Wyn, patting her firm, callousedhand.

  Those hands were no soft, useless members--no, indeed! Pretty as shewas, the stranger had evidently been in the habit of performing arduousmanual labor.

  "Where do you live, my dear?" asked Wyn, again, as her first questionwas not answered.

  "Up beyond Meade's Forge," said the strange girl.

  "Oh, my! On Lake Honotonka?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Please don't _ma'am_ me!" cried the captain of the Go-Ahead Club."My name is Wynifred Mallory. My friends all call me Wyn. Now, I wantyou to be my friend, so you must commence calling me Wyn right away."

  "But--but you don't know me," said the other girl, hesitatingly.

  "I am going to; am I not?" demanded Wyn, with her frank smile. "Surely,now that I have confided in you, you will confide in me to the sameextent? Or, don't you like me?"

  "Of course I like you!" exclaimed the still sobbing girl. "But--but I donot know that I have any right to allow you to be my friend."

  "Goodness me! why not?" exclaimed Wyn.

  "Why--why, we have a bad name in this town, it seems," said the other.

  "Who have?" snapped Wyn, hating Mr. Erad harder than ever now.

  "My father and I."

  "What have you done that makes you a pariah?" exclaimed Wyn, fairlylaughing now. "Aren't you foolish?"

  "No. People say my father was not honest I am Polly Jarley," said thegirl, desperately.

  "Polly Jolly?" cried Wyn. "Not much you are! You are anything but jolly.You are Polly Miserrimus."

  "I don't know what that means, ma'am----"

  "Wyn!" exclaimed the other girl, quickly.

  "M--Miss Wyn."

  "Not right. Just Wyn. Plain Wyn----"

  "Oh, I couldn't call you plain," cried the poorly dressed girl, withsome spontaneity now. "For you are very pretty. But I don't really knowwhat Mis--Mis----"

  "'Miserrimus'?'"

  "That is it."

  "It's Latin, and it means miserable, all right," laughed Wyn. "And youact more to fit the name of 'Polly Miserrimus' than that of 'PollyJolly.'"

  "It's Jarley, Miss Wyn."

  "But now tell me all about it, Polly," urged Wyn, having by this meansstopped the flow of Polly's tears. "Surely it will help you just to freeyour mind. And don't be foolish enough to think that I wouldn't want toknow you and be your friend if your poor father was the biggest criminalon earth."

  "He isn't! He is unfortunate. He has been accused wrongfully, andeverybody is against him," exclaimed Polly, with some heat.

  "All right. Then let's hear about it," urged Wyn, capturing both of theother girl's hands in her own, and smiling into her tear-drenched grayeyes.

 

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