on. It seemed silly--but it was beyond him to understand a girl.

"Aren't you going to get out, Ruth? Remember our fourth law!"

"Marj, that's silly. Just because we're 'sisters to every other Girl
Scout' is no reason why we should get out and make friends with a pack
of mill girls!"

"Well, then wait for me!"

And in a flash she was out of the machine and up the steps. Venturing
the Girl Scout salute, she asked the girls politely,

"Can anyone tell me whether Jennie Perkins belongs to this troop?" Her
voice trembled so that she could hardly speak.

"Yes--she's in the office, waiting for her pay envelope," replied one of
the girls. "Turn to the left once you're inside."

Marjorie needed no second invitation; in a second she had pushed open
the half-closed door. She stood face to face with Frieda Hammer!

"Frieda!" she cried, rushing to her, and throwing her arms about her
neck.

"Marjorie!" sobbed the girl, completely breaking down, and hiding her
head upon the other girl's shoulder.

In the brief glimpse that Marjorie had of Frieda, she saw how the girl
had changed. Her clothes were neat, and her hair was arranged
attractively. Moreover, she looked happy; the old, sullen, distrustful
look was gone. She was a real Girl Scout now, and the transformation was
marvelous. The miracle was accomplished, though by a far different
method from any Marjorie ever dreamed of.

Little by little Frieda told Marjorie the story of her struggle; then of
her work here, the Girl Scout troop which she had really started
herself, the saving of the money for Marjorie's canoe, which she had had
mailed in New York in order to mislead the latter, and finally of her
progress at night school.

"Why, it sounds just like a fairy tale," said Marjorie. "Now when will
you come back to us?"

"I want to work this summer, and then--if Pansy troop still wants to
help me--to go to full-time school in the fall."

"Indeed, we do want to help," said Marjorie passionately. "But you must
fulfill one condition: come to Miss Allen's before May first. After
that we were to give you up as lost."

"I will!" agreed Frieda. "Could I come next Saturday afternoon?"

"Yes; it's the day of the Scouts' out-door musical comedy. Promise me?"

"I promise!"

"Need any money for carfare?"

"No, thanks," replied Frieda, laughing. "And I expect to have my uniform
by that time. But don't tell a soul that you've seen me, till then!" she
entreated.

"Not a s