luence of her teacher, of Mrs. Johnson, and of her normal life,
she began to realize what it all meant. She secretly liked Marjorie,
but she was too proud to show it; instead, she decided to study hard,
and bring credit to the Scouts.

All this was before the Japanese fete. Then, that night, like a harsh
discord on one instrument breaking the harmony of an orchestra, she
heard Ruth's detestable remark: "Here comes Frieda Hammer--look out for
your jewelry!" her whole nature rebelled. Sick at heart, and regretting
that she had ever allowed the Scouts to persuade her to leave home, she
now wanted, more than anything else, to get away from them. She hated
them all, Marjorie included!

Her first thought was to leave immediately for home, but upon
remembering that while there she was always unhappy and wishing to be
elsewhere, it occurred to her that this was her opportunity to strike
out for herself. Casting about in her mind for some loophole of escape,
she hit upon the plan of stealing Marjorie's canoe, paddling down the
creek till it joined the river; and then, at the approach of some town,
of attempting to sell it for what she could get, and continuing the
remainder of her journey to New York by train. Why New York, rather than
any other city, she never stopped to consider; it stood out as the one
town to which anyone would wish to go.

That this way of traveling was much slower and more laborious than
setting out upon foot at the outset, never occurred to her; it seemed
like an easy way, less liable of detection, and it appealed to her love
of adventure. Once in New York, she calculated, she would become a
waitress in some "swell" restaurant, where she would make lots of money
to spend for clothes. A hired girl of the Brubakers who had been a
waitress in New York, once told her of the lavish tips she used to
receive; and the future, as Frieda pictured it, seemed particularly rosy
and independent. But to get there was the thing; once there--almost
anything might happen! Why, some rich man might fall in love with her
and marry her. That she was but fourteen, and neither attractive nor
cultured, never entered her head; she had always longed for adventure,
and she meant to have it.

Frieda would have put her plan into effect immediately, if she had only
possessed a little money. As it was, she was afraid to set out with an
empty purse. But when, over a week later, the Scouts sent her the cash
for her ticket home at Than