Part 11 (1/2)

”Oh,” s.h.i.+vered the Sport nervously, ”perhaps it is the crazy man!” She sprang to her feet and made as if to take to her heels again.

Every girl followed her example, and in another moment there would have been a wild stampede to the shelter of the hall, if a loud voice had not called out, ”Welcome, Englishmen! Welcome!”

Simultaneously with these words a lithe form sprang into the midst of the terrified girls, who clung to one another with wildly beating hearts as with dilated eyes they glared at the intruder, a tall Indian youth, resplendent with a feathered head-gear. He was clad in deerskin trousers fringed at the seams, a string of hairy scalps hung at his belt, and he held a bow and arrow in his hands as he stood and looked down at this bevy of frightened colonial maids with a broad smile on his grease besmeared face.

There was just a second's pause, and then Helen shouted merrily, ”Oh, it's Teddy Hart, and he's Samoset! Oh, girls, don't you remember? He was the Indian who came and welcomed the Pilgrims!”

Of course they all remembered, for had not Lillie dealt at length upon that very scene when telling her story? And Teddy Hart, why, he was a Boy Scout, one of Fred Tyson's patrol, which was known as the Eagle patrol.

This was all that was needed to make the girls forget the crazy man and the Sport's harrowing tale, and they crowded about Teddy crying, ”Oh, Ted, where did you get the rig?” or, ”What made you think of it?” and, ”Isn't it the best ever?” This last was from the Tike who was hopping about the new arrival examining the hairy scalps-which turned out to be a few wigs borrowed from the village barber-with keen curiosity.

”Great Caesar! give a fellow a chance to breathe, won't you?” fired the make-believe Samoset, as he mopped his face energetically. ”Don't riddle me with questions; I'm not a target!”

Yes, this was the second surprise, or the forerunner of it, for before Teddy was ready to surrender his place as the hero of the moment, the beat of a drum was heard, and from the little bit of woodland where Ted had been hiding issued a group of queer-looking individuals. They were all attired in somber-colored clothes with broad white collars, high conical-shaped hats, and all carried guns and had swords clanking at their sides in good impersonation of the Fathers of their country. The next moment they had formed in line and with well-simulated solemnity of countenance, ”as if going to meeting-house,” t.i.ttered Grace, these sixteen men-at-arms, headed by Capt. Standish-who was no other than Fred Tyson-marched valiantly down the street towards the garden.

It was the Sport after all who saved the day for the Pioneers, for as they stood in dazed laughter wondering how to greet these unexpected guests, the Sport's hand shot up, and two seconds later the girls had joined her in saluting their brother organization, as with one accord they gave the Pioneer cheer.

In quick response to a signal from their leader, the Scouts came to a halt, and as one man each Scout's hand went up to his forehead in the salute of three ringers held upright. This was followed by another cheer, a rousing one this time, as each boy shouted l.u.s.tily:

”Ready! Ready! Scout! Scout! Scout!

Good turn daily! Shout! Shout! Shout!”

The boys now fell into step again, and in a few moments had entered the little wicker gate where they broke ranks as they were cordially welcomed by the Governor's lady and Dame Brewster. For a short s.p.a.ce following pandemonium reigned, as the boys tried to answer the many queries propounded by the girls, each Pioneer, spying some one favorite boy, singled him out with merry jest to answer as to the why and wherefore of the unlooked for surprise.

Nathalie felt somewhat embarra.s.sed and stood apart from the girls, not having met any of the Scouts of the town. Perhaps she was a little scornful, for in the city she had been wont to pa.s.s a khaki uniform with scant approval, considering these emulators of chivalrous knights mere boys. Not understanding the aims or purposes of the organization they had failed to attract her.

But as she stood watching these tall, well-developed lads with heads held high, squared shoulders, and with the ruddy glow of an active life in the open on their bright faces, she reluctantly admitted that they were interesting to look at, at least.

”Ah, Miss Nathalie, I see you have forgotten me!” spoke a voice at the girl's elbow. She turned quickly to see the laughing brown eyes of Fred Tyson. Fred's face was flushed with embarra.s.sment as he felt somewhat timorous as to this city girl's greeting, since he had last seen her walking away from him with flushed cheeks and angry mien as he teasingly taunted, ”Scare-babies! Scare-babies!”

But Nathalie had forgotten all about that trivial incident-perhaps because she had a brother and knew the moods of boys and how they delighted to tease and hark at the girls-and she dimpled with cordiality as she returned his greeting.

She was soon sparkling with merriment as Fred told of the fun they had in rigging up, and the sensation they created as they marched through Main Street. By this time the explanations from the boys were over, and the secret of the cheer fire was revealed. It had been made by the Scouts at the suggestion of Dr. Homer, who was much interested in the Pioneers and had planned the two surprises to give a little more tone to the celebration and fun to the girls.

The girls now clamored that they were hungry, and at an intimation from Mrs. Morrow the Scouts were invited to repair to one of the side rooms in the hall, where their Mayflower Feast was to be held.

The invitation was accepted by Fred for the patrol, and the party of merry-makers filed noisily into the hall. When the boys saw the Stars and Stripes, and the yards of red, white, and blue bunting hanging in graceful folds from the walls of the room, they broke into patriotic song. ”Red, White, and Blue” was first sung in compliment to the Girl Pioneers' colors, and was quickly succeeded by the ”Battle Cry of Freedom,” and ”The Star-Spangled Banner,” in recognition of the starry emblem that symbolizes-more than any design that floats to the wind-the uplift of mankind, Liberty, and Union!

A cheery fire of pine knots blazed a greeting from the hearth, while two long boards supported on trestles and covered with a s.h.i.+ning damask cloth, represented the table of Pioneer days. Odd bits of old-time ware, such as silver porringers, queer-shaped jugs, or blackjacks, a number of wooden bowls, a high-standing salt-cellar, and a pewter tankard, were distributed about the table. But it was the flowers that lay in bunches here and there-and all May ones, too, from the cl.u.s.ters of white s...o...b..a.l.l.s, lilacs, pink and yellow azaleas, to the big bowls filled with sprigs of arbutus-that held Nathalie's eyes.

But flags, antiques, and flowers soon became things of the past, as the girls brought forth their lunch-baskets; each one had vied with the other to bring some choice edible and with the help of the modern knights, who declared that they had come for that purpose, the table was loaded with goodies.

Just before the feast was served, Will Ditmas, a fair counterpart of William Brewster, the ruling elder of Plymouth, suddenly stood up and, after much throat-clearing, announced in a droning voice that if those present were willing, for the furtherance of sobriety and seemly behavior, he would read a few rules from ”A Pretty Little Pocket Book.”

After stonily staring over a pair of goggles at a few irrepressible gigglers the would-be Elder read: ”Speak not until spoken to; break not thy bread, nor bite into a whole slice; take not salt unless with a clean knife, and throw no bones under the table.”

Those who were trying to keep their faces straight wavered in the attempt and joined the irrepressible Tike in a few hysterical t.i.tters as he continued: ”Hold not thy fork upright, but sloping, lay it down at the right hand of the plate, with the end of the blade on the table plate, and look not earnestly at any person that is eating.”

This last was the final straw for the Tike, and she giggled so unrestrainedly that she threatened hysteria, and Helen had to whack her on the back so that she could get her breathing apparatus in working order again. This ebullition was like a match to fire, and all those who had been smothering their mirth now broke forth into loud laughter, which threatened to become clamorous had not Mrs. Morrow held up her restraining finger.

The signal was too well known not to be obeyed, and the too mirthful ones were recalled to themselves. Then, too, they were all hungry; so forgetting the old-time admonitions of their forebears, they were soon occupied satisfying their hunger.