“Well den, dey ain’t got no beddin’ to sleep on, an’ t’ dish wid water is be’n upsot all evenin’, so dey ain’t got no drinkin’ water. Young pigs drink an orful lot of water an’ dey has to have good beddin’ to sleep on, or dey’ll squeal.”

After this explanation, the other girls were eager to go to the pig-pen and see what Janet was doing for the comfort of her investment. Natalie ran indoors and got an electric flashlight, and they all started for the barnyard, Rachel bringing up the rear.

Poor Janet was ready to scream, when they found her trying to hush the pigs. She would try to catch first one, then another to see if anything had happened to them, but they kept her jumping around the pen without her fingers ever touching their little pink hides.

After Mrs. James explained the cause of their rioting, Janet crawled over the closely-fitted laths that fenced them in; and all the girls started for the barn to find some fresh straw for a bed. Water had been given them, and the avidity with which they drank it showed how thirsty they had been.

When the bed was made up in the little house, the three weary little fellows ran in and were soon curled up to sleep. Then the girls followed Rachel back to the house, Janet listening very humbly to her discourse on “Cruelty to Domestic Animals.”

Early in the morning Norma was up, and without disturbing anyone, slipped down-stairs and started to work on the flower beds. She had listened so earnestly to Mrs. Tompkins’ advice about digging and fertilizing the soil, that she had finished the narrow beds that edged the house before the other girls came down.

“Why, Norma, you certainly are industrious,” said Mrs. James, when she saw all that had been accomplished.

“Isn’t it fun, Mrs. James! I never dreamed how nice it is to be a farmer. But I never want to be anything else, now.”

Belle laughed, for she was too dignified and superior to ever think of farm-work. Natalie watched Norma rake over the roundel that was the center of the turn-around in the drive from the road, and then remarked: “Where did you find the compost, Norma?”

Norma looked up and smiled. “Mrs. Tompkins told me how to mix the fertilizer found in a barnyard, and so I did. But I found some in a box over there by the vegetable gardens and I used some of that, too.”

“If I didn’t have to go and look after my vegetable gardens, Norma, I’d help you plant the flowers,” said Natalie. “But duty calls me, so I must obey.”

“I’ll help Norma plant the slips,” offered Janet.

“Your duty is calling you with a louder voice than Natalie’s ever could,” laughed Belle, holding up a finger to attract attention to the pig-pen.

The girls laughed, and Janet sighed. “I suppose it will be pigs, pigs, pigs all summer, whenever I have anything else I wish to do. Even that old hen misbehaves, and gets off the nest every time I examine the eggs to see if they are being pecked.”

Natalie had started for her garden by this time, but when she reached the low dividing fence at the end of the grass plat back of the kitchen, she screamed furiously and ran for her precious vegetables.

The other girls turned and ran over to see what had happened. Natalie was shooing the young chicks away from her tender green sprouts, but she dared not tramp upon her beds, so the broilers ran a few feet away and then stood eyeing her. They, seemingly, were but waiting for her to go away so they could resume their breakfast.

“That’s because Janet forgot to feed them last night for supper. Now all my young beets are eaten off the top! How can we ever raise anything to eat or sell, if her old pesky chickens keep this up!” wailed Natalie, examining the beets.

“They only managed to get a few of them, Nat! Thank your stars you got here when you did,” remarked Belle.

“I just bet it was those same horrid birds that destroyed my garden before! I never saw a crow after that, and I thought I had frightened them away with the scarecrow. But now, I’m sure it was the broilers!” declared Natalie.

“What a lot of satisfaction it will be to pick their bones,” suggested Frances. That made them all laugh and put Natalie in a better humor. Janet was wise enough to remain at her work with the pigs and chickens, and not venture near Natalie that morning.

At breakfast Natalie opened the subject. “Janet, you’ve got to keep those chickens in a yard. If they get into my garden again, I’m going to wring their necks and stew them for dinner!”

“Wait until they have a little more to them than skin and bone,” laughed Janet.

“They’ll make soup—if nothing more,” snapped Natalie.

“I was about to say, Janet, that you might get some wire-netting at the Corners, such as is used for runways for chickens,” suggested Mrs. James.

“How much will it cost? I can’t spend more than my allowance, you know,” answered Janet.

“I have a letter here, in reply to one I wrote Mr. Marvin, saying I was to use my own good judgment about the out-buildings. I wrote him that we ought to repair the coops and pens, as well as the barns, as soon as possible. And he says we can get whatever material we need for slight repairs at the Corners. He opened an account for us with Si Tompkins and this wire can be charged to that.”

“But I don’t see why you should pay for my chicken run, Mrs. James?” said Janet.

“We are going to repair it, anyway, whether you keep chickens in it, or someone else does it. If you are willing to help with the work to be done on it, we will consider it squared on the cost of the wire-netting and nails,” explained Mrs. James.

“I’ll go to the Corners right after breakfast and get the wire. Maybe I can find someone to drive me home again, so I won’t have to carry the awkward roll,” said Janet eagerly.

Norma was too busy with her flowers to join the other girls after breakfast, and Natalie said she saw some weeds growing up in her garden beds so she would have to get after them. Janet and Belle and Frances, therefore, started for the store, planning to help carry the roll of wire back home.

Mrs. James assisted Rachel with the housework as it was cleaning-day, and so everyone was engaged when an automobile stopped in front of the house.

Norma Evaston was carefully patting down the soil about a geranium plant when a shadow fell across it. She glanced up, and started in surprise when she saw Mr. Lowden smiling down at her.

“Good-morning, Norma. I thought to find Frances here, too, so I crept up the walk to surprise her,” said he.

“Oh, how did you get here? There isn’t a train until eleven,” returned Norma wonderingly.

“We came in the machine. Mrs. Lowden and I are going to leave it here for you to use this summer, so we thought it best to drive out and go back later by the train.”

“Why, Mr. Lowden! Frans only mailed that letter last night! How could you have received it already and driven here?” Norma puckered her brow as she tried to figure out what time the letter could have arrived in the city that morning, if it left Greenville at six o’clock.

“What letter?” It was now Mr. Lowden’s turn to be surprised.

“Oh, didn’t you know Frances wanted the car to use all summer as an investment?” asked Norma innocently.

“As an investment! What do you mean?”

“Yes, and we think it will be great fun, too,” returned Norma eagerly. “You see, I am going in for flowers to sell to tired homesick financiers downtown in New York. One sniff of a sprig of heliotrope or the cheerful nod of a pink standing in a glass of water on his desk will refresh one so that he will start out like a new man!

“Nat is raising vegetables. She has all the greens up above the ground already, but those hungry chickens ate off a number of her best ones, so that makes them look a bit messy just now. However, they will soon recover and grow as good as ever. The household will buy all its vegetables from her, and Solomon’s Seal Patrol expect to buy theirs from her, too.

“Janet went in for stock-farming. She only has a few pigs and the chickens as yet, but there are plenty of other things to get, as her allowance comes due. She is now planning to buy some guinea-hens, a flock of geese, some bees for honey, a few pigeons so we can have squabs, and other stock as time rolls by.

“But Frances chose to go into the service business. She is going to run an auto-bus from the station to the different destinations, and when we girls wish to take a pleasure-ride in the country, we all expect to pay a just price for the use of the car. By fall, Frans ought to have saved quite a sum of money, don’t you think so?”

Norma had talked so fast that Mr. Lowden could not have said a word had he wanted to; but he listened with face growing redder and redder, and when Norma concluded her amazing explanation he burst out laughing loud and long. His wife heard the mirth as she sat in the car waiting to learn if he had found the right place. Now she jumped out of the tonneau and ran over.

Norma sat back on her feet gazing up at the breathless man, when Mrs. Lowden joined the two. He tried to sober down enough to explain, but he spoke in gasps.

“Natalie raises vegetables for Solomon; Janet has turned stock-broker—her stock breaks down all of Natalie’s greens. Norma here is the philanthropist of the crowd,—she is about to raise flowers for heart-sick financiers. But our Frances is the Shylock of the party. She is going to charge fees for the use of an automobile that costs her nothing! What do you think of your daughter, now, Mabel?” And he laughed again, so heartily that Rachel came out to see who was with Norma.

Mrs. James soon followed Rachel, and the Lowdens were welcomed by the hostess. Norma could not stop her work long enough to sit down on the piazza and visit, but she sent this advice after Mr. Lowden as he was about to mount the porch-steps:

“Janet went to the Corners for chicken-wire and you can do the girls a great favor by going for them with the car. Belle and Frances went with Jan, to take turns carrying the roll. But I guess it is going to be awfully heavy for them!”

Mr. Lowden then excused himself for a time, and left his wife with Mrs. James. He soon had the car speeding along the road that went to the Corners, and Norma felt she had done her friends a good turn. But she never dreamed that Frances had not mentioned the automobile as a money-maker for that summer.

When the machine came back with the girls and their roll of wire-netting, Frances looked disconsolate. Norma was wondering whether her father had refused her the car for business purposes, and so she stopped planting long enough to join the party on the piazza.

“What do you think, Norma? Dad says I have to be sixteen before I can have a license to drive a jitney. If I drive without one, that old lazy Amity Parsons will arrest me. And if I use someone else’s license, I can be heavily fined. That explodes all my ambition!” exclaimed Frances woefully.

But Janet came to the rescue, as usual. “Say, Mr. Lowden, Frans can drive the car without a license if she has someone in the seat beside her who does have a regular license.”

“Who can I have?” demanded Frances.

“Well, I don’t know! I haven’t thought of that, yet!” admitted Janet.

“I can drive a car, so there is no excuse why I should not be able to secure one,” said Mrs. James thoughtfully.

“The main point is—we’ve got the car here to use for the summer, and the other points can be covered as we reach them,” remarked Janet.

Mr. Lowden laughed again, for all this business ambition was highly amusing to him. But he had no objections to the automobile remaining at Green Hill Farm during his absence in the west, and the girls all breathed easier when they heard his verdict.

“Well, you can argue out the question about a jitney license, but I must go back to my flowers,” said Norma, getting up from the steps and starting for the roundel.

“And I must start work on that chicken-fencing. If it is to be done before nightfall, I must ask help, too,” said Janet, beckoning Belle to help her carry the roll of wire.

Mr. and Mrs. Lowden were invited to stay to dinner but they declined with regrets, as they were to be back in New York soon after noon. Then Frances said: “I’ll have to drive you to the station to catch the only train that stops at Greenville this afternoon, and how will I get back if I haven’t a license?”

“I’ll accompany you, Frances, and later we will have to plan a way out of the difficulty,” said Mrs. James.

Good-bys were said, and the girls stood on the piazza waiting to see the car start off, when Rachel came out. “Hey, Mis’ James! I got it! Jes’ hol’ up a minit, will yuh?”

She hurried down the walk and ran out of the gate to lay her plan before the owners of the automobile.

“Yuh all knows my nephew Sam in Noo York? Well, he got a shover’s license las’ spring cuz he figgered on drivin’ somebody’s car this summer in the country. But we all know what a easy-goin’ darky he is, too!

“He diden have ambichun enough to hunt out a place, so he jes’ waited fer a plum to drap in his mout’. Ef he is in Noo York, he’ll be at dis address, sure! Ef I tells him to come out heah, widdout fail, to run dat car, he’ll come quick as lightnin’. Ef us gives him room an’ board, he oughter be glad fer the chants. Den no one kin pester Mis’ Francie ’bout license, er nuttin. An’ Sam kin make hisself useful to me by bringin’ in coal an’ wood fer t’ kitchen fire, an’ doin’ odd jobs about t’ place.”

This information seemed to suit Mr. Lowden exactly, and he turned to Rachel to say: “I’ll find him, Rachel, never fear—if he is to be found in the city. Look for him in the next day or two.”

Then saying good-by again, they drove away.

CHAPTER XII—GRIT INVITES HIMSELF TO GREEN HILL

The third day after the Lowdens had promised to hunt up Sam and send him to Green Hill Farm, a most unique post-card came for Rachel. It had the picture of the Woolworth Building on one side, and the information that this was a “gift card” given to those who visited the tower. On the side with the address, Sam printed with lead-pencil, “Deer ant: wurd cam fer me to be shoffer at yur place. Money O. K. comin rite away. sam.”

This elaborate epistle was displayed by Rachel with so much family pride that the girls had hard work to keep straight faces. But they knew how hurt Rachel would be if she thought the writing was illiterate, so they said nothing.

“If that card was mailed yesterday, as the postmark shows it was, Sam ought to be here to-day,” said Mrs. James.

“Yes, but he won’t get here in time to drive us to Ames’s farm for the guinea-hens,” said Natalie.

“As that will be my last act of law-breaking, I’ll drive,” announced Frances.

Therefore, the girls hurried away in the car. They had not gone more than half the distance to Dorothy Ames’s home, when Natalie saw a dog following the machine.

“Go home, old fellow!” called she, waving her hat to drive him back.

But the dog stood momentarily still and wagged his stumpy tail, then galloped after the car again, to make up for lost time.

“Girls, what shall we do with that dog?” cried Natalie in distress. “If he follows us much further he may get lost.”

Frances stopped the car and called the dog to her. He stood with front paws on the running-board and looked up at her with happy eyes.

“He’s a fine Collie, girls. Look at his head and the lines of his body. Someone get out and look at the collar for the owner’s name,” said Frances, leaning over to study the dog.

Belle got out and having examined the collar, remarked: “No name on it. It’s just a plain leather affair with a frayed rope-end still attached to the ring.”

The dog gave a short friendly yelp at Belle and wagged his tail rapidly, as a token of good fellowship.

“Let him run after us if he wants to, then we will take him back with us when we return,” suggested Janet.

“We’d better have him jump inside the car, then, so he won’t stray while our attentions are turned,” ventured Norma.

So the dog was given room in the tonneau where he stood and watched over the side of the machine as they flew along the road.

Arrived at Dorothy Ames’s farm, he waited until the door was opened, then he leaped out and pranced about the girls.

“That’s some dog you girls got there!” declared Mr. Ames, as he came forward to welcome his visitors.

“Yes, he must belong to someone living near Green Hill. He ran after our car as we turned from the state road into this road,” explained Natalie.

“I ain’t never seen him about afore. I knows every dog fer ten mile around Greenville, and there hain’t no farmer that kin afford a’ animal like that,” returned Mr. Ames.

“Why—is he a good one?” wondered Janet.

“Got every point a prize-winnin’ Collie ought to have. I wish he was my dog! I’d win a blue ribbon on him,” said Mr. Ames, as he examined the dog critically.

“Then someone will worry until he is home again,” said Norma concernedly.

The dog seemed not to worry, however, for he yawned and followed the girls about as if he had known them since puppyhood. Mr. Ames told the girls that the dog must be about two years old, and certainly showed he had been accustomed to a good living.

The guinea-hens were selected, several pigeons ordered to be delivered in a few days when the house would be ready, and a number of young goslings spoken for. Janet was not going to lose time planning for a stock-farm business and not act, it seemed.

“If you gals are going to take the dog back the way he came, you’d better not try to take the crate with the hens, too. I’ll leave them on my way to the Corners,” advised Mr. Ames.

The business matters settled, Frances spoke of her new line of work. “If you folks ever want to rent a car for a trip, or when you want to go to the station, just call me on the ’phone and I’ll come for you. I am starting a jitney-line and am always on hand for my clients.”

Mr. Ames laughed and said: “Sort of runnin’ opposition to Amity, eh?”

“Well, not opposition, exactly, as Amity is never about to attend to business. But I intend running the car faithfully, as anyone who is in the public service should do,” said Frances.

“What about a license?” questioned the farmer wisely.

“Oh, that’s taken care of. My chauffeur, Sam White, is going to drive the machine, while I act as conductor.”

Mr. Ames laughed again, heartier than ever, and Dorothy smiled sympathetically at Frances. Then she said: “I wish I had something to do besides churning butter and working on the farm.”

“Well, Dorothy, just you stick to us Girl Scouts and we’ll find you some desirable field of labor,” said Janet encouragingly.

Soon after this the girls started homeward, the dog jumping in without being invited and sitting up in the place provided him before. The girls patted him and said he was a clever fellow. That started his tail wagging violently and his tongue panting with pleasure.

At Green Hill, Mrs. James watched the girls stop at the side piazza, and then, to her surprise, she saw the dog jump out of the car. He stood waiting for his companions to alight and then he sprang up the steps and wagged his tail at her.

“What a fine dog,” said Mrs. James, patting his head. “Whose is he?”

“We don’t know, Jimmy. He just followed us after we left the state road. Mr. Ames says he doesn’t belong to anyone around here, ’cause he knows every dog in the county,” answered Natalie.

“He must have lost his way, then. Maybe he was with a party of autoists who passed that way. They will surely come back to hunt for him, so we had better hang a large sign out on the tree by the front gate,” said Mrs. James.

“That’s a good plan,” assented Natalie. “I’ll run in and get a cardboard box and print the sign.”

“Don’t describe the dog,—just say we found a strayed canine,” advised Janet.

“If no one comes for him, we may as well keep him until we determine what to do about it,” added Natalie.

“We must find a name for him, too. What do you suppose he was called?” asked Mrs. James.

“If we knew that, we might have a clue to his owners,” laughed Janet.

“The best way to name him is this way,” suggested Natalie. “Let each one write a name on a slip of paper and fold it up. Rachel shall deal out the votes and the last one out of the box shall be his name. How is that?”

“Good! Run and get the paper, Nat,” laughed Janet.

So in a few moments six slips of paper were cut and handed out. The pencil was passed around and everyone wrote her choice of a name for the dog. Rachel was called out to collect the votes in an old hat, and when they were well shaken she removed them, one by one, until the last one was taken up.

She opened it slowly and spelled out carefully: “G-r-i-t.”

“Ho, Grit, that is my choice!” shouted Natalie, clapping her hands. As if the dog was pleased with his name, he jumped around madly and barked shrilly.

“He seems to like his name,” said Janet, laughing at the way the animal tried to lick Natalie’s face.

“Maybe it sounds something like his real one,” suggested Mrs. James.

“Wall, whatever it is, I says he oughter have a pan of water to drink. Affer all dis excitement he needs refreshin’,” remarked Rachel, going to the kitchen and calling the dog to follow her.

He went obediently, and just as the girls began to plan the sign, and what to write thereon, the gate clicked. Mrs. James leaned over the piazza rail to see who was coming in, and saw a short, fat, colored youth of about eighteen, approaching.

“It must be Sam,—Rachel’s nephew,” whispered Mrs. James.

The expected chauffeur saw the party on the piazza and removed his cap politely, but his face expressed trouble, and he sighed as he stopped at the foot of the steps.

“You are Sam, aren’t you?” began Mrs. James.

“Yas’m, an’ I would huv be’n here long ago, as I writ, but I lost my bes’ friend and be’n huntin’ him fer more’n an hour.” Again Sam sighed heavily and his eyes were moist.

“Oh, what a pity!” exclaimed Mrs. James. “How did it happen, Sam?”

“Wall, yuh see, Ma’am, I brung him on the baggidge car tied to a rope, an’ when we got off at the Statchun he was that glad to see the green grass and fresh air that he galavanted ’round like a crazy thing. He tuk it inter his head to chase a bird what flied low along the road, and I laffed as I follered after him. But I lost sight of him, down the road, until I got to the Corners. I diden know what way to take there, so I went the most travelled one.

“That’s where I made my mistake. I should hev asked the storekeeper the way to Green Hill. I whistled and called fer a mile, er more, but Grip never showed up. Then I got afraid he was really lost. I turned back and asked the man at the Corners ef he saw’d a dog run by, an’ he said, ‘Yeh, the mutt was chasin’ down the road to Green Hill Farm.’

“I got mad at him fer callin’ Grip a mutt, but I hurried along the road he pointed out. I kep’ on goin’ and callin’, an’ went right by this place widdout knowin’ it. When I came to a farm owned by a man called Ames—a mile down the road,—he tol’ me I was too far. So I come back again. But I hain’t seen no sound of Grip sence.” A heavy sigh escaped Sam and he drew his sleeve across his wet eyes.

Perhaps the sound of the voice reached Grit—or Grip—in the kitchen, or perhaps his canine instinct told him his master was there,—whatever it was, he came bounding out of the house and leaped upon Sam with such force that the little fellow was rolled over backward upon the soft grass.

Grip pawed and rolled over again in his joy at seeing his master again, and the girls stood and shouted aloud with amusement at the scene. When Grip’s violent expression of welcome had somewhat quieted down, Mrs. James said:

“This certainly is a good ending to our adventure.”

Then she proceeded to tell Sam how the girls found Grip on the road, and how fortunate it was that no other tourists had taken him in.

Rachel heard a familiar voice and now came hurrying from her kitchen. “Wall, of all things! Ef it ain’t Sambo! How’de, my son?” exclaimed she, enfolding the little man in her capacious arms.

“You talk as ef you hadn’t looked fer me?” grinned Sam, endeavoring to free himself from the close embrace.

“I’m that glad to see yoh, Chile! I felt sort o’ fearsome ’bout leavin’ yoh all alone in a wicked city widdout me near to advise yoh dis summer,” returned Rachel, beaming joyously upon her kin.

Sam laughed, and then the story of Grip was told in a most graphic manner, the girls interrupting to add some forgotten item.

“Laws’ee! Ain’t dat a plain case o’ Providence fer us? An’ to think how Natalie called the dawg Grit, too!”

“Now that all this excitement is ended, suppose you business girls go and attend to your work,” suggested Mrs. James. “While you were away I walked over to the vegetable garden and was horrified to find so many weeds growing taller than the plants we are trying to coax along. And Janet’s investment has escaped from the pen and given Rachel and me the race of our lives. After half an hour’s heated chase we captured the pigs, but the chickens are still at large, scratching Norma’s flower slips out of the ground. I have shouted at them, and driven them away repeatedly, but I see they are back there again.”

No more needed to be said then, and in a minute’s time three excited girls were wildly racing to their various places of work to repair the damages made in their investments.

Then Sam was shown his room in the attic, where he could unpack his fabrikoid suit-case and don his farm-clothes. It was plainly evident that he liked the idea of living in the country and driving a car when called upon, and Mrs. James considered the girls were most fortunate to have Rachel’s own relative—to say nothing of the dog—on the place that summer.

Mr. Ames drove by before noon and left the crate with the guinea-hens and pigeons, and Janet eagerly began work on a separate coop for the hens. Sam offered to help build the pigeon-coop on the gable end of the carriage-house, where the birds could alight without molestation.

But the story of Janet’s stock-farm and how she succeeded is told in another book and can be given no extra room in this story. Suffice it to say, she certainly had troubles of her own in trying to raise a barnyard full of different domestic animals; and had it not been for Sam’s ever-willing help in catching the runaways or repairing the demolished fences, the result would not have been quite so good.

That evening, as they all sat on the side steps of the piazza watching the far-reaching fingers of red that shot up from the western sky, Belle spoke plaintively:

“I feel like a laggard, with you girls all working so hard at some business. Nat with her garden, Janet with the barnyard, Norma with the flowers, and Frans with her jitney—what is there for me to do? I hate dirt and animals, and I haven’t any car,—so what is left for me?” she sighed.

“Why don’t you turn your attention to Scout study?” asked Natalie, feeling that they had neglected Solomon’s Seal Camp lately.

“I don’t want that kind of work,—I want a real business, like you girls have,—but what is there to do?”

“You’ll just have to pray and wait for an answer,” suggested Norma, the devout one of the group.

“Is that what you did before the flowers came your way from Mrs. Tompkins?” asked Belle.

“No, but you see, I always pray and hope for an answer, so I don’t have to lose time when something comes to me. It is always coming at the right moment, so I never have to ask especially for any one thing,” explained Norma seriously.

Belle laughed softly. “I wish you’d do it for me, Norma.”

“Why, Belle! You know how to ask for yourself! You’ll get it all the sooner if you stop laughing and try my plan,” rebuked Norma.

The talk suddenly changed at this point, and no one thought more of Norma’s advice to Belle. But the latter was duly impressed by Norma’s faith, and determined to try secretly a prayer or two in her own behalf. So that evening after she had retired, she earnestly asked that a way might be shown her to occupy herself that summer even as her friends were doing.

The following morning Sam suggested that the car meet the three daily trains from the city, to carry any passengers to their destinations. As it took but a short time to drive to the station and back, this plan was agreed upon. Frances would act as conductor of the fares and direct Sam the way to go when taking a passenger home.

On the morning trip they would bring back the mail and any orders that might be needed for the house or the Scout camp. In the afternoon the trip would be made for passenger service only, and at evening the mail would be brought back, or any purchases needed at Tompkins’ store.

The initial trip was made that morning at nine-thirty, the girls wishing Frances all success in her new venture. As the car disappeared down the road Natalie hurried to her garden to go to work on the weeding.

Janet went to the farmyard to begin building some sort of shelter for a calf she purposed buying from Mr. Ames. And Norma began to plant seeds in her flower beds. Mrs. James went in to help Rachel, and Belle was left alone on the porch to plan various things to interest herself, also.

As she rocked nervously, trying to think of something agreeable to do, she heard Natalie cry loudly from the garden. She sprang from the porch and ran down the path to render any help possible to the friend in distress, and saw Natalie jumping up and down, with skirts held high and close about her form.

“Oh, oh! Belle,—bring a rock! Get a gun—anything—quick!” yelled Natalie.

“What for—what’s the matter?” shouted Belle, looking anxiously about for a stone or a big stick.

“A snake! A great big snake ran out of the ground and tried to get me!” screamed Natalie, still jumping up and down.

Belle caught up a heavy stone and tried to carry it quickly to her friend, but she had to drop it after running a short distance, as it was too heavy for her. Then she found a smaller stone and ran with that to demolish utterly the awful thing!

“Where is it? Where did it go?” cried Belle excitedly, as she reached the vegetable beds.

“Oh, oh—it came out of that hole in the corn-hill, and ran that way!” gasped Natalie, breathless with her violent exercise.

“Out of that hole! Why, that is only as big as my small finger! How could a great snake come from there?”

“All the same it did! Oh, oh, OH! Look, Belle! There it is,—under that corn-spear!” shouted Natalie, bending and pointing at the terrifying (?) object.

Belle had to look hard to be able to detect the little frightened snake. There, curled up under the tiny spear of green, was a young grass snake about three inches long. It held up its pretty striped head and watched fearfully for the huge rock to fall upon its innocent body.

Belle stood upright and gave vent to a loud laugh. “Oh, Nat! That is only a dear little worker in your garden. Why would you kill a creature that will gobble up your troubles?”

“What do you mean?” demanded Natalie, ashamed of her groundless fears.

“Why, I’ve read in school that grass snakes, garter snakes, and even black snakes, are the farmers’ best friends. They eat cut-worms, clean off all grubs from plants, and even keep out moles, beetles, and other pests, that ruin vegetables.”

Natalie bravely turned her back upon the grass snake at this and wagged her head prophetically: “All the same, where a young snake like that can be found there must be a big parent, too.”

“Doubtless, but the parent snake can kill off ten times as many pests as a baby snake, so don’t go and kill it when it hurries to your cornfield to catch a field-mouse,” laughed Belle.

As Belle started back for the rocking-chair to continue her mental planning, she saw Frances’ car approach swiftly from the Corners.

“Oh, goody! She has a passenger!” shouted Belle to Norma as she ran past the flower beds.

Norma dropped her trowel and fork and raced after Belle to the gate to watch the private jitney go past. But Sam stopped in front of the gate and Frances beckoned to the girls.

As Belle ran out to see what was wanted of them, a well-dressed lady, seated in the tonneau, smiled and said:

“I alighted at Greenville by mistake. I was directed to a country place beyond White Plains, where I hear I can buy some antiques. I am in the business in New York, but I haven’t time now to wait for another train and go on to visit this lady. Your young friend here thought the one named Belle might possibly undertake this commission for me, as she was at liberty to sell her time. Which of you is Belle?”

Belle immediately signified that she was the one, and the lady continued: “I believe you know something of antique furniture and china?”

“Something—because I started a little collection of my own at home. I have read many books to be had at the Library on the subject and can tell a Wedgewood jug or bowl or a Staffordshire plate, as readily as anyone. I also know the different Colonial period furniture when I see any.”

“Splendid! Then you can act as my agent up here, if you will. I must get back to keep an appointment in New York at two o’clock, but you can hunt up this old farmhouse for me that is somewhere west of Pleasantville, on a road that is described accurately on this map,” said the stranger, as she unfolded a paper and glanced at it to see that it was the right one. This was handed to Belle, and the lady continued:

“If you find anything there—or at any place in this section of the country—such as brasses, dishes, furniture, or pictures, telephone me at my business address and I will make an appointment to meet you wherever it is. Will you consider it?”

“I should like nothing better, if you think I can do it for you,” returned Belle, delighted at the prospect.

“I think you can, and for this service I will pay you for the time you actually give to the pursuit. Also I will pay for the hire of the car, as I explained to this young lady here.

“If you can possibly find time to go to this house to-day, it will please me greatly, as I want information about the four-poster canopied bed I hear is there for sale. Telephone me full particulars after you come back, will you?”

Belle agreed eagerly to the proposition, and the lady then mentioned the salary she would pay, by the hour, for this service of Belle’s. Also Frances mentioned her charge for the use of the car, which was agreed to without demur.

“Now I wish your man would drive me to the railway station at the nearest point where a train can be taken without losing more time. I do not care which town it is, as long as I can get back to the city before two o’clock.”

Belle was left standing speechless on the footpath as the car drove rapidly away, and Norma smiled happily. “Did you pray as I told you to, Belle?” asked she.

“Uh-huh!” was all the reply Norma got, but she understood Belle’s ways and ran back to her flowers without another word. Belle walked slowly toward the house to get her hat and handbag so as to start on the new venture as soon as Frances returned from the White Plains railroad station.

CHAPTER XIII—BELLE’S CHOICE OF A PROFESSION

At breakfast that Saturday morning Natalie spoke of it. “Jimmy, my garden is as dry as a lime-kiln. What had I better do about it?”

“You might try sprinkling it with a hose. I see there is a hydrant right near the box-hedge—for that very purpose, I guess.”

“I never thought of that! But I will need a hose,” said Natalie.

“I saw one in the cellar, Nat, when I was nosing about for some old flower-pots to cover my transplanted flowers,” now remarked Norma.

“Then I’ll get it out right after breakfast, and see if it will screw onto the hydrant.”

Norma went with Natalie as she went down the outside cellar-steps to the partitioned corner where the hose had been seen. It was wound on an old wooden rack that could be carried up to the grass-plot and turned to unwind the long piece of rubber.

“Isn’t it great to discover this all ready for us?” said Natalie delightedly.

“With a brass cap on one end to screw it to the hydrant, too,” added Norma.

The other girls gathered around to watch the two gardeners manipulate the hose, and when it had been carefully unwound Natalie dragged one end over to the hedge to try and screw the cap to the hydrant.

This was soon accomplished, and Norma then straightened out the length of rubber to allow the water to flow through it more readily when Natalie should turn the faucet. As the unexpected advent of a garden hose was a cause for celebration, the four girls called to Mrs. James to come out and watch the sprinkler work.

Rachel felt that she must be on the spot also, so she hurried out, wiping her wet hands on her apron as she came.

“All ready, Nat,—turn on the water!” called Norma, as she picked up the end with the sprinkler on it.

Natalie turned the brass faucet and instantly the flow of water swelled the hose out, but there were many punctures in its length, and one serious crack, so that the water spurted up through the holes and made graceful fountains. There was enough force of water, however, to cause a fine shower of water to come from the sprinkler, until suddenly, without warning, a sound as of a muffled explosion came, and quite near the sprinkler the rubber burst and shot forth a stream of water.

“Wait a minit, Honey—I’ll run an’ git a piece of mendin’ tape what I foun’ in my kitchen closet,” called Rachel, hurrying up the stoop-steps and disappearing through the doorway.

The girls tried to stop the undesired spurt of water by placing their hands over the crack and on other holes in the length of the tube. Then Rachel appeared with the bicycle tape, and was just coming down the steps when Natalie called to her.

Norma still held the sprinkler in her hand and now turned to see what Rachel had; in so doing, she unconsciously turned the end of the hose also, so that instantly all the girls trying to stop the leakage were thoroughly sprinkled.

Such a screaming and shouting ensued that Norma instantly turned to see what had happened. This time the water drenched Mrs. James, who fled precipitately for the house.

Rachel was haw-hawing loudly at the funny scene when Norma turned to explain the accident to the girls. Without warning, the shower now fell upon Rachel, who had approached within its radius.

But the latter was not as docile about being soaked as were the girls. She dashed forward, caught the hose from Norma’s hands and threw it upon the grass.

“Turn dat water off at d’ hydran’, Natalie Av’rill!” shouted the irate woman.

Natalie had been laughing immoderately at the outcome of the experiment with the hose, but she quickly obeyed Rachel’s order and turned off the water.

“You thought it was awfully funny, Rachie, until you got a soaking yourself,” called Natalie, still giggling.

“Me! I wa’n’t mad, a’tall! I jes’ wants to mend dis pipe, an’ one cain’t do nuthin’ wid water flyin’ through it at such a rate. Now I kin wrap dis tape aroun’ it an’ fix it, so’s you kin water your gardens,” explained Rachel loftily.

After this incident the hose was mended and Natalie soon had her young vegetables well watered and left to the mercy of the sun that day. No one at Green Hill Farm knew enough to advise her not to water the plants while the sun was shining upon them, and Natalie fondly fancied she had done a good thing.

Norma sprinkled her flowers well when Natalie had done with the hose, but the flower beds were sheltered from the noonday sun, so they did not fare as badly as did the vegetables.

Sam was in the barnyard helping Janet construct a new shed for the calf which she wanted to buy the next week, and he was not so well versed in farm-lore, so Natalie never understood why all her tender seedlings should wilt so quickly and seem to dry away before the afternoon heat.

The tomato plants, that had been transplanted from Mr. Ames’s farm, had grown wonderfully well, and were large enough to warrant Natalie’s starting the frames which would be needed when the red fruit appeared on the vines. So she planned how to make the best kind of square frame for them, as she loosened the soil about the potato plants that morning.

Her thoughts were so filled with the vision of the lath frames that she failed to see something crawling on a tiny leaf of the potato vine where she was hoeing. When her eye was attracted to the movement, she gave a slight shudder and screamed.

“Wat’s d’ matter now?” called Rachel from the kitchen steps.

“Ooh! A horrid bug on one of my dear little potato vines!” cried Natalie, standing still to watch the crawling beetle.

Rachel hurried over to the garden. “Da’s onny a tater-bug, Honey. Ain’t chew ever hear tell of tater-bugs? Ef you’se let ’em go, dey will eat up all your taters in no time.”

As she explained, Rachel took the Colorado beetle between her fat thumb and forefinger and soon crushed it. Natalie shivered as she watched the remains flung away, but Rachel meant business and had no time for dainty shudderings.

In a few minutes she had turned over other tiny leaves and revealed many bugs eating away at the juicy food. These were quickly caught and killed, but a few of them managed to get away by flying up out of Rachel’s reach.

Natalie stood by and watched, and when Rachel said: “Now you’se kin go on wid dis job. Ebery vine has to be hunted on and dem tater-bugs killed off.”

“Rachie, I just can’t crush them the way you do!” complained Natalie.

Rachel looked at the girl for a moment, then said: “Neber mind dis way, Honey. I’ll git Sam to fix you up a tin can on a stick. You kin have some kerosene in it and brush dese pests into t’ can by using a short stick. Dey can’t fly away, when once dey fall in dat kerosene.”

“But Rachel, isn’t there a way to keep the horrid pests away from my garden?” asked Natalie anxiously.

“Yeh—we’se will have to squirt Paris Green or hellebore on the leaves, I rickon,” returned Rachel thoughtfully.

“Then tell Frances to buy some next time she drives past Si Tompkins’ store,” said Natalie, turning her back on the potato-beds and starting work on the bean-plants.

The weeding had all been finished, and most of the potato-vines had been cleaned of the beetles, before the noonday meal was announced to the busy workers. They were half famished, as was usual nowadays, and hastened to the house to wash and clean up before appearing in the dining-room.

Frances drove to the Corners and not only got the powder for Natalie’s plants, but also got the two girls who were to attend the Scout meeting that day. Having left them at the house, she drove on to Ames’s farm for Dorothy.

Mr. Ames came out of the corn-house when he saw the car and walked over to speak to Frances. Dorothy was almost ready, so while there were a few minutes to fill, Frances told the farmer about Natalie’s potato-bugs and the powder she bought.

“Tell her to use it when the leaves are damp with dew in the mornin’—it has better results that time. Ef she squirts it on dry, an’ the leaves are dry, too, the eggs won’t die. It is the wet paste made on the leaves when the powder melts in the dew that chokes off the young so they can’t breathe.”

“I’ll tell her what you say,” replied Frances thankfully.

“An’ warn her to keep an eye open fer cutworms, too, ’cause they will appear about these times, when beans an’ young vines are becomin’ hearty. I’ve hed many a fine plant of cabbitch chopped down through the stem, jus’ as it was goin’ to head.”

Natalie was given these advices and felt that she was being well looked after, with two interested farmers at hand to keep her right.

The afternoon at Solomon’s Seal Patrol Camp was spent in interesting ways. Miss Mason first read the principles of the Girl Scouts, then repeated the motto. Most of the girls knew the slogan, which they gave in unison, and then said the pledge aloud.

Miss Mason then read the letter from National Headquarters which was a reply to her application for a Troop registration. The members of the first Patrol had heard its news—that they might begin their ceremonies as a Troop, because the application had been filed and accepted, and the registration would soon reach them.

The new Patrol heard this with delight, and the fact that they were going to be actual members of a Troop made them feel that they had become more important to the public than ever, in the last few minutes.

The new Scouts were put through several tests that afternoon, and were then permitted to watch the Scouts of Patrol No. 1 do many thrilling First Aid demonstrations. The afternoon ended with refreshments, all prepared and served by the girls. The cakes, wild berries and lemonade tasted delicious as the girls sat under the great oak tree and chatted.

On the homeward walk, Nancy Sherman said to Natalie: “There are a few more girls at the Corners who are crazy to join the Scouts this summer. But I told them I thought our Patrol was full. Was that right?”

“Who are the girls—and how old are they, Nancy?”

“Oh, most of them are about thirteen or fourteen, but one girl is past fifteen. There are six, in all, and they say that they know some more girls who will join when they hear of it.”

“Why can’t they start Patrol No. 3, and belong to this same Troop,” suggested Janet.

“That’s just what I was thinking,” said Natalie.

Then Mrs. James spoke. “Nancy, you invite all these girls to our farm some day and we will entertain them. After we have shown them what we can do in Scout work we will accept them as candidates, if they consent to become our Tenderfoot Scouts. In this way, girls, you all can win the needed test to enroll as a First Class Scout when the time is at hand.”

This was an excellent idea, and the girls felt greatly encouraged at the hope of being able to take the examinations as First Class Scouts, of Patrol No. 2, of Solomon’s Seal Troop.

Nancy was entrusted with the invitation to the girls, and warned to keep secrecy about the plan to secure the approval as First Class Scouts on their Tenderfoot training.

Sam and the car were nowhere in sight when the girls reached the house, but Rachel came out and explained.

“A telerphone call come f’om Noo York f’om dat antique woman, sayin’ fer Belle t’ git dat ol’ chest of drawers oveh by Tarrytown road, right now. It war to be expressed at onct to her shop in Noo York, what Belle had an address of, so I had Sam go along to git it an’ fetch it back so’s we coul’ pack an’ ship it right off.”

“Oh, Rachel! He need not have done that! I made all arrangements with a man near there to get the chest to the railroad station and express it to the city. I was only awaiting orders,” exclaimed Belle, annoyed at the way her well-laid plans were upset.

“I wuz thinkin’, Honey, dat mebbe dat man would cost somethin’ to do t’ wuk, an’ Sam ain’t doin’ nuthin’ whiles he’s waitin’ fer orders. So yuh oughta get dat money foh yo’se’f.”

Belle had not thought of this, and now she saw that Sam and Rachel were planning for her benefit. But Frances said: “How is he ever going to carry the chest if it is a big affair?”

“It isn’t, Frans,” said Belle. “It is a low-boy that will easily go in the tonneau, and no harm come to the car.”

“Then I think Sam’s plan was good. It saved you time and expense,” said Mrs. James.

“Yes, and I must share the charges the man would have asked me, with Sam,” said Belle.

This pleased Rachel immensely,—that her kin should be commended and given a share in the profits. She felt amply repaid for all the solicitude she had felt about the order.

The Solomon’s Seal Tenderfoot Scouts had to walk home that day to the Corners, as Sam was not expected back in time to drive them home. The Green Hill girls accompanied their fellow-members to the gate and watched them depart.

That evening Sam told Belle that he would build her a strong crate from some old wood found in the barn, and the chest could be taken to White Plains station early Monday. This plan would save time, and also the cost of crating and expressage if done at Tarrytown. So the chauffeur was highly commended for the suggestion and told to do it as soon as he could.

The experiences of Belle that summer in hunting antiques in the Westchester Hill farms were most interesting, but no room can be spared in this book for the telling of her adventures. So that must wait for a volume on her exploits.

As the next day was Sunday, Natalie did not do any garden work, but Janet had to attend to her farmyard stock the same as on week-days. She grumbled a great deal over the cares and endless work of a stock-farmer, but the girls noticed that she was daily planning to add to her troubles by buying additions.

The girls were seated under the large sugar maple on the side lawn, waiting for Janet to finish her feeding of the pigs and chickens, when a siren was heard. Natalie jumped up and saw a car approaching along the road. A party of ladies were with the man who drove the machine.

“Oh, I do believe it is Mr. Marvin, girls!” called Natalie.

“What!” cried Mrs. James in consternation. “Just look at us all—in our old clothes!”

But the automobile was already at the gate, and the girls found to their delight that he had brought out their mothers.

It seemed like ages since they had seen each other. The girls talked eagerly of all that had happened since they came to Green Hill. Norma showed her flower beds, which really were looking good. And Belle told about her antique collecting. Frances displayed with pride the sum of money already earned with her private jitney, and Janet took the greatest satisfaction in escorting her younger sister Helene and the ladies to the barnyard to see her stock. Natalie, last of all, showed her gardens, which looked as neat as a row of pins.

Mr. Marvin complimented the girls on all their work, and then spoke of the roses in Natalie’s cheeks and the difference in her general physical looks.

“I suppose you are going to stay to dinner, aren’t you?” ventured Natalie cautiously.

“No; we are invited to dine with some friends quite near Green Hill Farm, but we thought we ought to stop in and see you before we go on to our hostess’s place,” said Mr. Marvin.

“I never knew you people were acquainted with anyone around here,” said Janet, wonderingly, to her mother.

“We are, however. A young lady we know well in the city is summering in Greenville, and we came to visit her and her family.”

Neither of the girls dreamed that Mrs. Wardell was referring to Miss Mason and her Troop, so they kept guessing who the acquaintance might be. Finally Mr. Marvin laughed and told the secret.

Natalie laughed, too, and said: “Well, we certainly were thick-witted that time. We might have known it was Miss Mason’s camp.”

Mr. Marvin could not take his eyes from Natalie, she was so different from the girl he had always known in the city. As she told of the adventures she and the girls had with their “professions” and the funny experiences with the old garden hose, her face was so alive with healthy interest and her eyes sparkled with such fun, that everyone saw the benefit the country life had been to her.

Later, as they all started for Solomon’s Seal Camp, Mr. Marvin confided to Mrs. James: “She is so changed that I do not dread her return to the city again. She hasn’t spoken one morbid word, nor seemed pessimistic once, since I’ve been here.”

“She isn’t, either,” admitted Mrs. James. “Ever since she started work on that garden she has mentioned nothing that has happened in the past to cause her sorrow. I sometimes wonder if she has forgotten it all.”

“Let’s hope so. These mournful remembrances never do anyone the slightest good. Don’t revive them in her memory.”