Part 19 (2/2)

On the opposite page was written a quotation which Agony had been familiar with ever since she had become a Winnebago:

”Love is the joy of service so deep that self is forgotten.”

She put the book away where she could not see it, but the words had burned themselves into her brain.

”To A.C.W. From one who rejoices in a brave and n.o.ble deed.”

They mocked her in the dead of night, they taunted her in the light of day. But, like the boy with the fox gnawing at his vitals, Agony continued to smile and make herself agreeable, and no one ever suspected that her gayety was not genuine.

CHAPTER XII

THE STUNT'S THE THING

”Where would a s.h.i.+pwreck look best, right by the dock, or farther up the sh.o.r.e?” Sahwah's forehead puckered up with the force of her reflection.

”Oh, not right by the dock,” said Jo Severance decidely. ”That would be too modern and--commonplace. It's lots more epic to be dashed against a rocky cliff. All the s.h.i.+pwrecks in the books happen on stern and rockbound coasts and things like that.”

”It might be more epic for those who are looking on, but for the one that gets s.h.i.+pwrecked,” Sahwah reminded her. ”As long as I'm the one that get's wrecked I'm going to pick out a soft spot to get wrecked on.”

”Why not capsize some distance out in the water and swim ash.o.r.e?”

suggested Migwan.

”Of course!” exclaimed Sahwah. ”Why didn't we think of that before?

Geese!”

”This is the way we'll start, then,” said Migwan, taking out her notebook and scribbling in it with a pencil. ”Scene One. Sinbad the Sailor clinging to wreckage of vessel out in the water. He drifts ash.o.r.e and lands in the kingdom of the Keewaydins.” She paused and bit the end of her pencil, seeking inspiration. ”Then, what will you do when you land, Sahwah?”

”Oh, I'll just poke around a bit, and then discover the Keewaydins in their native wilds,” replied Sahwah easily. ”Then I'll go around with you while you go through the events of a day in camp. O, I think it's the grandest idea!” she interrupted herself in a burst of rapture.

”We'll get the stunt prize as easy as pie. The Avenue will never be able to think up anything nearly as good. How did you ever manage to think of it, Migs?”

”Why, it just came all by itself,” replied Migwan modestly.

Anyone who had ever spent a summer at Camp Keewaydin, pa.s.sing at that moment, and hearing the conversation, would have known exactly what week of the year it was without consulting a calendar. It was the second week in August--the week of Camp Keewaydin's annual Stunt Night, when the Avenue and the Alley matched their talents in a contest to see which one could put on the best original stunt. Next to Regatta Day, when the two struggled for the final supremacy in aquatics, Stunt Night was the biggest event of the camping season. Rivalry was intense. It was a fair test of the talents of the girls themselves, for the councilors were not allowed to partic.i.p.ate, nor to give the slightest aid or advice. The boys from Camp Altamont came over with their councilors, and together with the directors and councilors of Camp Keewaydin they voted on which stunt was the best. Originality counted most; finish in working out the details next.

The Alley's stunt this year was a sketch ent.i.tled THE LAST VOYAGE OF SINBAD THE SAILOR, and was a burlesque on Camp life. The idea had come to Migwan in a flash of inspiration one night when Dr. Grayson was reading the Arabian Nights aloud before the fire in the bungalow. She communicated her idea to the rest of the Alley and they received it with whoops of joy.

Now it lacked but three days until Stunt Night, and the Alleyites, over on Whaleback, where they would be safe from detection, were deep in the throes of rehearsing. Sahwah, of course, was picked for the role of the s.h.i.+pwrecked Sinbad, for she was the only one who could be depended upon to stage the s.h.i.+pweck in a thrilling manner.

”What kind of a costume do I wear?” she inquired, when the location of the s.h.i.+pwreck itself had finally been settled. ”What nationality was Sinbad, anyhow?”

”He came from Bagdad,” replied Sahwah brilliantly.

”But where was Bagdad?”

”In Syria,” declared Oh-Pshaw.

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