Margaret Vandercook - The Camp Fire Girls at the End of the Trail

“Dan won’t you take your victim, or our victim, her breakfast,” Mrs. Burton suggested, smiling and yet looking sympathetic. Having finished her own breakfast she and Peggy had arranged a breakfast tray for their uninvited guest.

“Sit here, Dan,” his mother announced a few moments later on his arrival before her tent. Then she hurried away to her own meal.

Dan sat silently watching the new girl.

She was evidently trying to show self-control. Yet it seemed impossible for her to choke the breakfast down, in spite of the fact that Sally had made new corn bread especially for her. Her lips kept twitching and finally the tears ran unchecked down her face.

“I am sorry you are in such pain,” Dan said gently, and there was something very attractive in his gentleness, combined as it was with his beauty and strength. “I’ll find a doctor for you in a little while.”

To his surprise his companion again turned upon him angrily.

“I am not crying because I am in pain. I am not quite so ridiculous.” Then her nose twitched in a funny fashion and she added with the hoarse note in her voice which was so unusual, “I am crying because I am such a – such a fool.”

In spite of his wish to be sympathetic, Dan laughed.

“Oh, that is a common enough experience.”

But the girl shook her head.

“No,” she answered quietly, “there are a good many foolish people in the world, I know, but there are degrees. It seems to me I am the most hopeless kind.” She turned her eyes full upon Dan and curiously he was reminded of certain pools in his own New Hampshire woods on a soft grey day.

“My name is Marta Clark. I meant to tell you before. My brother and I are here living in a tent not far away from your camp – a few miles I believe. My brother broke down in health and we had to come out here because of him. He is still very ill and I have been taking care of him. If I can’t even hobble about for a few days I don’t know what is to become of us. Besides he has not the faintest idea where I am. I realized he would not allow me to prowl about trying to see Mrs. Burton if he knew, although he and I had talked of her being here. We had seen her act once and adored her.”

“Oh, you’ll find some one able to look after him for a few days well enough,” Dan replied, not viewing the matter as seriously as his new acquaintance did.

Again the girl flashed what seemed to be an angry glance toward him.

“I don’t enjoy your forcing me to confess the fact,” she went on, “but my brother and I are desperately poor – far too poor to hire any one to take care of us, even for a few days. He was working and taking care of me, and when his illness came we had almost nothing. He was only a reporter on a paper and I was at school.”

“Nevertheless,” said Dan firmly, “I am sure we shall manage in some way to have you cared for until you are all right again.”

The girl’s face cleared, and Dan noticed that she had a rather care-worn look which her words had just explained.

“I don’t know why I should feel it when we are utter strangers, but you do look as if you could make things happen the way they should. I suppose it is because you are strong and patient. I am neither of those things.”

But they could not go on talking because, at this moment, the Camp Fire guardian was coming toward them.

“But it is awfully kind of you, Ellen.”

Ellen Deal shook her head.

“No,” she answered. “I shall like it. Since I came out West with you and the Camp Fire girls, Mrs. Burton, I have been feeling that perhaps I was here under false pretenses. You see I am older than the other girls, and came partly because Dr. Sylvia told me I might be useful to you. Except for showing you a few first aid remedies I have not been useful at all. I don’t feel that I am a particularly agreeable companion, so I add nothing to the pleasure of the Camp Fire in that way.”

“Nonsense,” the Camp Fire guardian responded. Nevertheless a slight pang of self-reproach assailed her. Had she allowed Ellen Deal to feel that she was of less interest to the Camp Fire group than the other girls? It was true that Ellen was older, that she was midway between the age of a Camp Fire girl and a possible guardian. But, more than this, she seemed to have one of the hard and matter-of-fact natures it is always difficult to reach. Romance, the dreams and desires that are a part of nearly every life, hardly appeared to touch Ellen; or if they did at least she gave no sign. In their months together amid perhaps as beautiful and extraordinary scenery as there is anywhere in the world, Ellen had showed no enthusiasm; in her life with the Camp Fire girls, no especial affection except, perhaps, in friendship with Alice Ashton.

“However, she was looking in a great deal better health,” Mrs. Burton reflected, and the present moment was scarcely the time for introspection by either of them.

“Just the same it is good of you, Ellen, besides not another one of us would be equal to the task. But if it is too much for you, you must let us know. Peggy is going with you now and I’ll drive over in the morning to see how you are getting on.”

“Thank you,” Ellen replied gratefully. Yet she would like to have said so much more – to have told Mrs. Burton how greatly she appreciated her kindness in allowing her, an entire stranger, to be one of her group of Camp Fire girls and also her guest for the past three months. However, words never came easily to her, for she was not one of the fortunate persons who can make themselves charming by the simple gift of expression, which may or may not be sincere.

Then she went away to pack her bag with a few necessary articles for the work ahead of her.

It was to Ellen Deal that Dan Webster had first confided the difficult position of their unexpected guest. Immediately Ellen had suggested that she go with the new girl to her camp and there see what should be done. Besides the fact of her brother’s illness, the girl herself would require looking after for a few days, if not for a longer time.

Later Mrs. Webster and Mrs. Burton had given a more or less enforced consents since, under the circumstances, there seemed nothing else to be done.

“Ellen certainly looks competent,” Polly decided at this moment, watching her move away. Her figure was small and neat, suggesting a great deal of reserve strength; her sandy hair had grown a shade brighter in tone from her months in the sunshine and her always bright color, brighter. It was a pity that she appeared so severe and critical.

This, also, was Marta Clark’s impression, riding beside Ellen, Dan and Peggy occupying the front seat of the wagon which the Camp Fire party ordinarily used for carrying provisions.

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