where it came from, and what it meant. I suspected a girls' camp,
but of course I never dreamed of finding you here. Do tell me all about
it. It is a camp, isn't it?"

"Yes, we are Camp Fire Girls," Anne Wentworth replied. She glanced
behind her, but the others had disappeared. "They vanished for fear they
might be in the way," she said. "O Laura, I'm so glad you're here, for
this is the night for our Council Fire. You can stay to it, can't
you--I'm sure you would be interested."

"Stay--how long? It's after sunset now."

"O, stay all night with me, and all day to-morrow. You must stay to the
Council Fire to-night, anyhow."

"I'd love to dearly, but father won't know where I am." Laura's voice
was full of regret.

"Why can't you go back and tell him? I'll go with you," Anne suggested.

"Will there be time before your Council Fire?"

"Yes, if we hurry--wait one minute." Anne called to the nearest girl,
gave her a brief message, and turned again to her friend. "Come on,
we've no time to lose, but I know how you can make a canoe fly," she
said, and hand-in-hand the two went scurrying through the grove and down
to the landing. Then while the canoe swept swiftly over the water, Anne
Wentworth answered the eager questions of her friend.

"It's a new organisation--the Camp Fire Girls," she explained. "It is
something like the Boy Scouts only, I think, planned on broader lines
and with higher and finer ideals--at any rate it is better suited for
girls. It aims to help them to be healthy, useful, trustworthy, and
happy. Health--work--love--as shown in service--these are the ideals on
which we try to build. We have three grades. First a girl becomes a Wood
Gatherer; then after passing certain tests, a Fire Maker, then a Torch
Bearer."

"And which are you?" Laura asked.

"I'm a Guardian--that is, I am the head of one of our city Camp Fires.
Mrs. Royall is our Chief Guardian." She went on to explain about the
work and play, the tests and rewards, ending with, "But you'll
understand it all so much better after our Council Fire to-night."

Laura nodded. "What kind of girls is it for--poor girls--working
girls?" she asked.

"It is for any kind of girls--just girls, you know. Of course we can't
admit any bad ones, nothing else matters. Dorothy Groves is one of my
twelve, and I've two dear little High School girls; all the rest are
working girls. They can stay here at the camp only two weeks--some of
them only ten days--