A Campfire Girl's First Council Fire

  Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's Note: This edition had a cover and title page entitled_A Campfire Girl's First Council Fire_. The title on the first page ofthe story and the remainder of the book, however, is _The Camp FireGirls In the Woods_.

  A Campfire Girl'sFirst Council Fire

  ByJANE L. STEWART

  CAMPFIRE GIRLS SERIES

  VOLUME I

  THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY AKRON, OHIO NEW YORK

  Made in U. S. A.

  COPYRIGHT, MCMXIV

  BY

  THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO.

  THE CAMPFIRE GIRLS SERIES

  A CAMPFIRE GIRL'S FIRST COUNCIL FIRE A CAMPFIRE GIRL'S CHUM A CAMPFIRE GIRL IN SUMMER CAMP A CAMPFIRE GIRL'S ADVENTURE A CAMPFIRE GIRL'S TEST OF FRIENDSHIP A CAMPFIRE GIRL'S HAPPINESS

  "We'll take you over to camp and you can have dinner withus."]

  The Camp Fire Girls In the Woods

  CHAPTER I

  THE ESCAPE

  "Now then, you, Bessie, quit your loafin' and get them dishes washed!An' then you can go out and chop me some wood for the kitchen fire!"

  The voice was that of a slatternly woman of middle age, thin andcomplaining. She had come suddenly into the kitchen of the Hooverfarmhouse and surprised Bessie King as the girl sat resting for a momentand reading.

  Bessie jumped up alertly at the sound of the voice she knew so well, andstarted nervously toward the sink.

  "Yes, ma'am," she said. "I was awful tired--an' I wanted to rest for afew minutes."

  "Tired!" scolded the woman. "Land knows _you_ ain't got nothin' tocarry on so about! Ain't you got a good home? Don't we board you andgive you a good bed to sleep in? Didn't Paw Hoover give you a nickel foryourself only last week?"

  "Yes--an' you took it away from me soon's you found it out," Bessieflashed back. There were tears in her eyes, but she went at her dishes,and Mrs. Hoover, after a minute in which she glared at Bessie, turnedand left the kitchen, muttering something about ingratitude as she went.

  As she worked, Bessie wondered why it was that she must always do thework about the house when other girls were at school or free to play.But it had been that way for a long time, and she could think of no wayof escaping to happier conditions. Mrs. Hoover was no relation to her atall. Bessie had a father and mother, but they had left her with Mrs.Hoover a long time before, and she could scarcely remember them, but sheheard about them, her father especially, whenever she did something thatMrs. Hoover didn't like.

  "Take after your paw--that's what you do, good-for-nothin' littlehussy!" the farmer's wife would say. "Leavin' you here on our hands whenhe went away--an' promisin' to send board money for you. Did, too, for'bout a year--an' since then never a cent! I've a mind to send you tothe county farm, that I have!"

  "Now, maw," Paw Hoover, a kindly, toil-hardened farmer, would say whenhe happened to overhear one of these outbursts, "Bessie's a good girl,an' I reckon she earns her keep, don't she, helpin' you like, round theplace?"

  "Earn her keep?" Mrs. Hoover would shrill. "She's so lazy she'd never doanythin' at all if I didn't stand over her. All she's good fer is to eatan' sleep--an' to hide off som'ere's so's she can read them trashy bookswhen she ought to be reddin' up or doin' her chores!"

  And Paw Hoover would sigh and retire, beaten in the argument. He knewhis wife too well to argue with her. But he liked Bessie, and he did hisbest to comfort her when he had the chance, and thought there was nodanger of starting a dispute with his wife.

  Bessie finished her dishes, and then she went out obediently to the woodpile, and set to work to chop kindling. She had been up sincedaylight--and the sun rose early on those summer mornings. Every boneand muscle in her tired little body ached, but she knew well that Mrs.Hoover had been listening to the work of washing the dishes, and shedared not rest lest her taskmistress descend upon her again when thenoise ceased.

  Mrs. Hoover came out after she had been chopping wood for a few minutesand eyed her crossly.

  "'Pears to me like you're mighty slow," she said, complainingly. "Whenyou get that done there's butter to be made. So don't be all day aboutit."

  But the wood was hard, and though Bessie worked diligently enough, herprogress was slow. She was still at it when Mrs. Hoover, dressed in herblack silk dress and with her best bonnet on her head, appeared again.

  "I'm goin' to drive into town," she said. "An' if that butter ain't donewhen I get back, I'll--"

  She didn't finish her threat in words, but Bessie had plenty of memoriesof former punishments. She made no answer, and Mrs. Hoover, stillscowling, finally went off.

  As if that had been a signal, another girl appeared suddenly from theback of the woodshed. She was as dark as Bessie was fair, a mischievous,black-eyed girl, who danced like a sprite as she approached Bessie. Herbrown legs were bare, her dress was even more worn and far dingier thanBessie's, which was clean and neat. She was smiling as Bessie saw her.

  "Oh, Zara, aren't you afraid to come here?" said Bessie, alarmed,although Zara was her best and almost her only friend. "You know whatshe said she'd do if she ever caught you around here again?"

  "Yes, I know," said Zara, seating herself on a stump and swinging herlegs to and fro, after she had kissed Bessie, still laughing. "I'm notafraid of her, though, Bessie. She'd never catch me--she can't run fastenough! And if she ever touched me--"

  The smile vanished suddenly from Zara's olive skinned face. Her eyesgleamed.

  "She'd better look out for herself!" she said. "She wouldn't do itagain!"

  "Oh, Zara, it's wrong to talk that way," said Bessie. "She's been goodto me. She's looked after me all this time--and when I was sick she wasever so nice to me--"

  "Pooh!" said Zara. "Oh, I know I'm not good and sweet like you, Bessie!The teacher says that's why the nice girls won't play with me. But itisn't. I know--and it's the same way with you. If we had lots of moneyand pretty clothes and things like the rest of them, they wouldn't care.Look at you! You're nicer than any of them, but they don't have any moreto do with you than with me. It's because we're poor."

  "I don't believe it's that, Zara. They know that I haven't got time toplay with them, and that I can't ask them here, or go to their houses ifthey ask me. Some time--"

  "You're too good, Bessie. You never get angry at all. You act as if youought to be grateful to Maw Hoover for looking after you. Don't she makeyou work like a hired girl, and pay you nothin' for it? You work all thetime--she'd have to pay a hired girl good wages for what you do, andtreat her decently, beside. You're so nice that everyone picks on you,just 'cause they know they can do it and you won't hit back."

  Glad of a chance to rest a little, Bessie had stopped her work to talkto Zara, and neither of the two girls heard a stealthy rustling amongthe leaves back of the woodshed, nor saw a grinning face that appearedaround the corner. The first warning that they had that they were notalone came when a long arm reached out suddenly and a skinny, powerfulhand grasped Zara's arm and dragged her from her perch.

  "Caught ye this time, ain't I?" said the owner of the hand and arm,appearing from around the corner of the shed. "My, but Maw'll pickle yerwhen she gits hold of yer!"

  "Jake Hoover!" exclaimed Bessie, indignantly. "You big sneak, you! Lether go this instant! Aren't you ashamed of yourself, hurtin' her likethat?"

  Zara, caught off her guard, had soon collected herself, and begun tostruggle in his grasp like the wild thing she was. But Jake Hoover onlylaughed, leering at the two girls. He was a tall, lanky, overgrown boyof seventeen, and he
was enjoying himself thoroughly. He seemed to haveinherited all his mother's meanness of disposition and readiness to findfault and to take delight in the unhappiness of others. Now, as Zarastruggled, he twisted her wrist to make her stop, and only laughed ather cries of pain.

  "Let her go! She isn't hurting you!" begged Bessie. "Please, Jake, ifyou do, I'll help you do your chores to-night--I will, indeed!"

  "You'll have to do 'em anyhow," said Jake, still holding poor Zara."I've got a dreadful headache. I'm too sick to do any work to-night."

  He made a face that he thought was comical. Zara, realizing that she washelpless against his greater strength, had stopped struggling, and heturned on her suddenly with a vicious glare.

  "I know why you're hangin' 'round here," he said. "They took thatworthless critter you call your paw off to jail jest now--and you'retryin' to steal chickens till he comes out."

  "That ain't true!" she exclaimed. "My father never stole anything.They're just picking on him because he's a foreigner and can't talk aswell as some of them--"

  "They've locked him up, anyhow," said Jake. "An' now I'm goin' to lockyou up, too, an' keep you here till maw comes home--right here in thewoodshed, where you'll be safe!"

  And despite her renewed struggling and Bessie's tearful protests, hekept his word, thrusting her into the woodshed and locking the greatpadlock on the door, while she screamed in futile rage, and kickedwildly at the door.

  Then, with a parting sneer for Bessie, he went off, carrying the keywith him.

  "Listen, Zara," said Bessie, sobbing. "Can you hear me?"

  "Yes. I'm all right, Bessie. Don't you cry! He didn't hurt me any."

  "I'll try and get a key so I can let you out before she comes home. Ifshe finds you in there, she'll give you a beating, just like she said.I've got to go churn some milk into butter now, but I'll be back as soonas ever I can. Don't you worry! I'll get you out of there all right."

  "Please try, Bessie! I'm so worried about what he said about my father.It can't be true--but how would he ever think of such a story? I want toget home and find out."

  "You keep quiet. I'll find some way to get you out," promised Bessie,loyally.

  And, stirred to a greater anger than she had ever felt by Jake Hoover'sbullying of poor Zara, she went off to attend to her churning.

  Jake, as a matter of fact, was responsible for a good deal of Bessie'sunhappiness. As a child he had been sickly, and he had continued, longafter he had outgrown his weakness, and sprouted up into a lanky,raw-boned boy, to trade upon the fears his parents had once felt forhim. Among boys of his own age he was unpopular. He had early become abully, abusing smaller and weaker boys.

  Bessie he had long made a mark for his sallies of wit. He taunted herinterminably about the way her father and mother had left her; he pulledher hair, and practiced countless other little tricks that she could notresent. His father tried to reprove him at times, but his mother alwaysrushed to his defence, and in her eyes he could do no wrong. She upheldhim against anyone who had a bad word to say concerning him--and, ofcourse, Bessie got undeserved rebukes for many of his misdeeds.

  He soon learned that he could escape punishment by making it seem thatshe had done things of which he was accused, and, as his word was alwaystaken against hers, no matter what the evidence was, he had onlyincreased his mother's dislike for the orphaned girl.

  The whole village shared Maw Hoover's dislike of Zara and her father. Hehad settled down two or three years before in an abandoned house, but noone seemed to understand how he lived. He disappeared for days at atime, but he seemed always to have money enough to pay his way, althoughnever any more. And in the village there were dark rumors concerninghim.

  Gossip accused him of being a counterfeiter, who made bad money in theabandoned house he had taken for his own, and that seemed to be thefavorite theory. And whenever chickens were missed, dark looks were castat Zara and her father. He looked like a gypsy, and he would neveranswer questions about himself. That was enough to condemn him.

  Bessie finished her churning quickly, and then went back, hoping eitherto make Jake relent or find some way of releasing the prisoner in thewoodshed. But she could see no sign of Jake. The summer afternoon hadbecome dark. In the west heavy black clouds were forming, and as Bessielooked about it grew darker and darker. Evidently a thunder shower wasapproaching. That meant that Maw Hoover would hurry home. If she was tohelp Zara she must make haste.

  Jake, it seemed, had the only key that would open the padlock andBessie, though she knew that she would be punished for it, determined totry to break the lock with a stone. She told Zara what she meant to do,and set to work. It was hard work, but her fingers were willing, andZara's frightened pleading, as the thunder began to roar, and flashes oflightning came to her through the cracks in the woodshed, urged her on.And then, just as she was on the verge of success, she heard Jake'scoarse laugh in her ear. "Look out!" he shouted.

  He stood in the kitchen door, and, as she turned, something fell,hissing, at her feet. She started back, terrified. Jake laughed, andthrew another burning stick at her. He had taken a shovelful of embersfrom the fire, and now he tossed them at her so that she had to danceabout to escape the sparks. It was a dangerous game, but one that Jakeloved to play. He knew that Bessie was afraid of fire, and he had oftenteased her in that fashion. But suddenly Bessie shrieked in real terror.As yet, though the approaching storm blackened the sky, there was norain. But the wind was blowing almost a gale, and Bessie saw a littlestreamer of flame run up the side of the woodshed.

  "The shed's on fire! You've set it on fire!" she shrieked. "Quick--giveme that key!"

  Jake, really frightened then, ran toward her with the key in his hand.

  "Get some water!" Bessie called to him. "Quick!"

  And she unlocked the padlock and let Zara, terrified by the fire, out.But Jake stood there stupidly, and, fanned by the wind, the flamesspread rapidly.

  "Gosh, now you have done it!" he said. "Maw'll just about skin you alivefor that when I tell her you set the shed afire!"

  Bessie turned a white face toward him.

  "You wouldn't say that!" she exclaimed.

  But she saw in his scared face that he would tell any lie that wouldsave him from the consequences of his recklessness. And with a sob offright she turned to Zara.

  "Come, Zara!" she cried. "Get away!"

  "Come with me!" said Zara. "She'll believe you did it! Come with me!"

  And Bessie, too frightened and tired to think much, suddenly yielded toher fright, and ran with Zara out into the woods.