Books: Keineth

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"No tennis or golf to-day," grieved Barbara, going to the window.

"Anyway we can swim," cried Peggy.

"In the rain?" asked Keineth, astonished.

"Why, of course, silly! Wouldn't we get wet, anyway?"

Keineth's face colored. Peggy went on with a toss of her head: "And I
simply must practice swimming under water to-day--the contest isn't
very far off. You can't expect me to help you out to the rock, Ken,
you'll have to play in shallow water!"

Keineth's soul smarted under this humiliation. The rock was the goal
around which their fun centred. It was twenty yards out from shore and
its broad, flat surface gave room for six of them to stand upon it at
one time. As around it the water was five feet deep, it was necessary
for one of the children to help Keineth reach it. Then, while the
others practiced all the feats known to the fish world, Keineth always
stood carefully in its centre, head and shoulders above the water's
surface and watched them with interest and admiration, tinged with
envy.

To conceal the tremble in her voice Keineth had now to swallow very
quickly. "All right, Peggy," was all she answered and Peggy never knew
how deeply her careless words had hurt her.

Keineth _had_ grown discouraged with her swimming. Somehow it was so
easy when some one was with her, but she could never seem to muster the
courage to dive off into the water the way the others did. And Daddy
would be so disappointed!

Mrs. Lee had given her careful instruction in the stroke--perhaps if
she was alone, away from Billy's roguish glance and the terror of his
catching her ankle under water, she might feel more confidence.

This thought still lingered in her mind when, in the afternoon, they
went to the beach. Billy was already in the water; the faithful Pilot
was digging on the beach for dog treasures. Because of the drizzling
rain Mrs. Lee had not come down.

While Barbara and Peggy were racing under water Keineth found it very
easy to slip away. She chose a spot where a bend of the shore concealed
her. She stood knee-deep in the water, going through the movements of
the arm stroke, with a careful one, two, three. She put her small teeth
tightly together--she _would_ have confidence, she _would_ go out
deeper, throw herself calmly into the water in Peggy-fashion and swim
off, one, two, three! She _would_ remember to breathe easily and keep
her arms under the surface of the water!

There was an indomitable will in the child. She _did_ throw herself in,
and, counting one, two, three, forgot her usual gasp of fright;
suddenly it seemed natural and as if she had always done it! She felt a
delicious joy in the ease with which her stroke carried her ahead
through the water. She wished Billy might see her now! Then, exhausted
by her effort, triumphant and happy, she reached for a footing on the
bottom. Her toe could not find it! With a cry of terror she threw her
arms wildly upward, involuntarily seeking for some hold! Then she
slipped, slipped down, fathoms and fathoms it seemed--a dreadful
choking gripped her, like tight arms upon her chest! She tried to call,
but the water only made a fearful gurgle in her throat! She wanted her
father--_he'd_ stop that terrible pain in her chest and take that grip
from her throat!

Suddenly she felt very, very tired and as if she would sleep when the
pain was gone. Her body lifted slowly; her hand, flung upward, gripped
something soft but firm in her clutch--the water splashed about her!
She thought it was her father! He was pulling her away, then she seemed
to go to sleep.

When consciousness returned, Keineth found herself lying upon the beach
wrapped in Barbara's raincoat. Peggy was crying and Barbara, her face
very white, was rubbing her hand. On her other side knelt Billy, the
rain dripping from his bare arms, his face flushed as though from
violent exercise. Behind him stood Pete, the man of all work in the
community, who had been drawing gravel from the beach.

"Darling!" cried Barbara. "Oh, are you all right?"

Keineth slowly looked all around. _Had_ it been some dream,
then--wasn't her Daddy there at all? Barbara had slipped an arm under
her head and was folding it higher. It helped her breathe.

"What was it?" Keineth managed to whisper. "I'd never, never, never
have forgiven myself," Barbara was crying now.

"You almost drowned," Peggy explained. Now that the danger was over she
began to enjoy the excitement.

"And Pilot saved you!" Billy cried.

"We had just missed you and Billy had started up the shore when we
heard your cry!"

"And it didn't take that dog two seconds to get out to you! Just say he
isn't human!"

"I thought it was Daddy," Keineth whispered.

"What, dear?" Barbara had not caught the words. "You must keep very
quiet, Ken. And Billy's had his first aid case!"

Pete clapped Billy on the shoulder. "Wal, I jes' calculate now that it
was them gim-cracks Billy here put you through, missy, that brung you
to!"

"I always wondered if I could do it," Billy said with pardonable pride,
"and, say, that'll mean a medal from the troop!"

Alice had run home to tell Mrs. Lee of the accident. Together they had
hurried down to the beach. With Pete's help they lifted Keineth to the
gravel wagon and, like a triumphal procession, moved slowly homeward.
Mrs. Lee immediately tucked Keineth into bed with hot water bottles and
blankets to check the chill that was creeping over her.

"She'll be all right, I am sure," Mrs. Lee whispered to the anxious
children. Later the doctor came, left some powders and patted Keineth
on the head. "A good sleep and quiet will fix up those nerves O. K.
Then forget all about it."

He was quite right; the next morning Keineth, quite as well as ever,
joined the family at breakfast. Though Mrs. Lee had warned them not to
mention the accident to Keineth unnecessarily, Mr. Lee did pinch her
cheek and say: "You lost your head, didn't you, little sport? If you'd
just kept your arms down, now--but, if you go exploring strange beaches
again you'll remember, won't you?"

Peggy and Keineth, moved by a feeling of intense relief, suddenly
caught hands under the table. For into both hearts had come the fear
that Keineth's mishap might end the swimming for the summer! And
Keineth had not forgotten that, though it had ended sadly, for a very
brief time she _had_ mastered the stroke. Mrs. Lee smiled down the
table. "And I think Pilot has won a home! Except for him--" she stopped
suddenly, her eyes bright with tears. "William, bring home the finest
collar you can find and to-night we will decorate our dog with all due
honor!"

CHAPTER XII

A LETTER FROM DADDY

"KEN--a letter!"

Billy rushed toward the garden waving a large square envelope over his
head.

Keineth and Peggy were weeding their flower bed. Keineth dropped her
hoe quickly to seize the letter.

"It's from Washington, and it's got a seal on it like the seal of the
United States!" exclaimed Billy.

"Oh, let me see!" cried Peggy.

Keineth had taken the letter. Looking from one to the other, she held
it close to her.

"I--I can't--it's from the President, I guess--" A wave of
embarrassment seized her and she stopped short, wishing that she might
run away with her treasure.

"The President--writing to you! Oh, say--" Billy snorted in derision.

Peggy, offended at Keineth's shyness, turned her back upon her. "I
don't want to see your letter, anyway," she said ungraciously.

"Oh, please--I'd love to show it, only--I promised--" Then, as Peggy
gave no sign of relenting, Keineth walked slowly toward the house with
her letter.

"I think Keineth's mean to have secrets," and Peggy dug her hoe
savagely into the ground. "She acts so mysterious about her father and
I'll bet it isn't anything at all!"

"But that letter _was_ from the President, I guess! Gee whiz, think of
getting a letter really from him! I wish I was Ken!"

"It's nothing! Anyone can be President--I mean, any man!"

"Just the same, mother told me that some day we would be very proud of
knowing Keineth's father. She wouldn't tell me any more. I'll bet it
would be awful interesting to know him! There's something certainly
queer about how no one knows where he is! I guess I'll ask Ken to tell
me just a little bit. I can keep a secret."

"Well, you can know her old secret for all I care," and Peggy started
for the barn. Billy did not follow. He had thought of a plan. He would
challenge Ken to a game of tennis. And he would let her beat him. Then
he'd ask her very casually about her father and promise, on his scout's
honor, not to tell a soul! The plan seemed good. He'd wait for her to
come down.

In her room Keineth had opened the large white envelope. From inside
she drew a sheet of paper upon which were written a few lines, and with
it a blue envelope of very thin paper, addressed in her father's
familiar handwriting. With a little cry she caught it up and kissed it
again and again. Before she broke its seal she read what was written on
the sheet which had enclosed it.

The few lines were signed "Faithfully, Woodrow Wilson." They began, "My
dear little soldier girl," and they told her that it was with great
pleasure he had forwarded her letter to her father and now returned to
her its answer. He called it an honor to serve them both and expressed
the hope that some day he might make her acquaintance and tell her how
deeply he admired and respected her father.

Keineth merely glanced at the lines. What mattered it to her that they
had been written by the President of the United States! Did she not
hold tightly in her fingers a letter from her Daddy?

"My precious child," it began. Keineth had suddenly to brush her eyes
in order to see the letters. "Your letter found me at one of my many
stopping places. It brought to me a breath of home. I shut myself in my
room and read and reread it, and it seemed to bring back the old room
and the chair that could always hold us both. I could hear your voice,
too. I miss you terribly, little girl, but I thank God daily that you
are well and happy and with good friends.

"I have travelled through many lands of which I will have much to tell
you. I have been in the Far East--poor Tante would have wept with joy
over the beauty of the Flowery Kingdom. I have bowed before enough
emperors and kings to make my poor back ache. Do you remember how you
used to rub the kinks out of it? I have spent hours and hours with the
great men of the world. I have seen wonderful beauty and glorious
sunshine. (How I'd like to ship some of it to old New York.) And I have
seen ugly things, too. We shall have great times when we are together
again, childy, telling one another the stories of these days we have
been parted. You shall tell me something first and then I will tell
you. It will take us hours and days and weeks.

"Now I am going in my wanderings to other lands that are black with the
horror of war. I shall have to witness the suffering it brings to the
homes and I will be more glad than I can tell that my baby is far from
its pain.

"I have learned in these wanderings of mine that it is in the children
this old world must place its trust. That if they want a better
government they must give to the little ones all that is pure and clean
and honest and good and see to it that they are happy. I feel like
shouting it from the housetops--'Make them happy!' It doesn't take
much.

"I feel your big, wondering eyes on mine--you do not understand! Ah,
well, girlie, all I mean is--romp and play--build up a strong little
body for that heart of yours--see things that are clean and good, and
whatever the game is--play square!

"We cannot be grateful enough to the dear Lees for all they are doing
for us. Try and return their kindness with loyalty. I will write later
to Mrs. Lee in regard to the plans for the fall. Do whatever she thinks
best. You will stay with them until I return. Just when that will be I
cannot tell now, but you must be brave. Your courage helps me, too, my
dear.

"Sometimes, when my day's work is done and I can put it from my mind, I
close my eyes and dream--dream of the little home we will build when I
return: build--not in the old Square, that is gone except to
memory--but in some sunny, open spot where we can live and work
together and lead useful lives. It is a beautiful castle as I see it in
my dreams--and beautiful with love.

"I will send this letter with other papers to Washington and they will
forward it to you.

"Good-by, little soldier--I salute you, my General.

"God keep you for

"DADDY."

The words rang through Keineth's heart like a song. She longed to pour
out her joy in music, but Billy's voice came to her from below.

"Ken, Ken."

"Yes, Billy." "Come on, I'll play tennis with you! Bet you can beat me,
too!"

Keineth suddenly remembered Peggy's and Billy's rudeness. Perhaps Billy
was trying to make amends. She really wanted to be alone with her
letter a little longer, but if Billy wanted her to play! She felt
proud, too, that he had asked her.

Billy found less difficulty than he had anticipated in letting Keineth
win the set. In fact, deep in his heart, he was not sure he had "let"
her. For Keineth, fired with the joy within her, played brilliantly,
flying over the court like a winged creature, returning Billy's serves
with a surprising quickness and strength that completely broke down his
boyish confidence in himself.

"Thanks awfully--that _was_ fun," Keineth said as they sank down under
a tree for a moment's rest.

Though his plan had worked very well so far, Billy now felt at a loss
to know how he ought to proceed. So, accepting her thanks with a brief
nod, he bolted straight to the point.

"Say, Ken, if you'll tell me about your father I promise on my scout's
honor not to tell a soul! And you ought to tell me anyway, for didn't
my dog save your life, and didn't I give you first aid or you might've
died!"

"Oh, Billy!" Keineth cried, then stopped short. Her heart warmed to
Billy--they seemed almost like pals now! He had preferred playing
tennis with her than going off somewhere with the boys. And she did
want more than anything else right then to talk about her daddy; to
tell how great he was and how he was visiting courts of Eastern lands.
And she wanted to show Billy the letter from the President, it was in
her pocket. And she knew if Billy said he'd never tell that he would
not.

But a soldier never swerves from duty and had not her father called her
his "General"?

"I--I can't, Billy," she finished.

There was something so final in her voice and in the set of her lips
that Billy, red with rage, rose quickly to his feet.

"I'll bet you haven't got any secret and you're just making up to be
smart and I'll get even with you, baby! And you didn't beat me playing
tennis, for I let you, anyway! You wait--" and, vengefully, Billy
strode away, leaving an unhappy little girl sitting alone under the
tree. Peggy met Billy on the road. Peggy was in search of Keineth. Her
nature was too happy to long nurse a grievance. She didn't care if
Keineth did have a secret! And she had wonderful news, too!

But Billy's morose bearing stirred her curiosity.

"Did she tell you, Billy?" she asked.

"I'll bet she hasn't got any secret that's worth knowing! And she
needn't say she beat me at tennis, either."

"Oh, Billy Lee, you let her beat so's she'd tell you! I'm just _glad_
she didn't! I guess girls never tell anything they've promised not
to--even if they are girls!"

In great scorn she ran from the disconsolate Billy. She had spied
Keineth alone under the tree.

"Ken--Ken! Great news!" Peggy rushed toward her. "We are going camping
with Ricky--you and me--next week! Hurray!"

CHAPTER XIII

CAMPING

Keineth learned that Ricky was Peggy's gymnasium teacher. Her real name
was Fredericka Grimball, but to "her girls" she was always known as
Ricky. The camp was among the hills ten miles from Fairview. And during
the vacation months Ricky took her girls there in groups of twenty.
With their play she gave them instruction in scoutcraft.

"We go for tramps into the woods and she tells us stories of the birds
and trees. I never knew until she told me that there are male and
female trees, and flowers and all the things that grow; did you know
it, Ken? And we found a weasel, last summer--it was almost tame. We're
going to learn signalling, too; perhaps this winter Ricky will let us
form a troop and join the Girl Scouts."

Keineth, with wide-open eyes, was trying to follow Peggy's incoherent
description of the camp life they were to begin on the morrow. Back in
her mind was a tiny doubt as to whether she would enjoy twenty
girls--all strangers! But she would fight this shyness and do whatever
Peggy did.

"We sleep right out of doors when it is clear. The woods smell so good
and there are all sorts of funny sounds as if all the bugs and things
were having parties."

"Oh-h, I wonder if I'll like it!" and Keineth shivered with pleasurable
dread.

"We paddle in canoes on a little lake that's like a mill-pond. It's
awfully shallow and the water is so clear you can see right through it,
and we ride horseback, too! I'm a patrol leader," Peggy finished with
pride. She folded the last middy blouse neatly into a wicker suitcase.
Their luggage consisted of bloomers, blouses, bathing-suits and
blankets.

"Easy to remember--all B's," Mrs. Lee had laughed.

Mr. Lee drove them to the camp. "Come back with some muscle in these
arms of yours and a few more freckles on your nose," he said to
Keineth, pinching her cheek affectionately.

"Camp Wachita"--the girls had nicknamed it Camp Wish-no-more--was
nestled in the hills with the tiny lake at its front door and a dense
woodland at its back. Sleeping tents were built in a semicircle about
the central building, in which were the living-rooms. On a grassy level
stretch close to the water was the out-of-door gymnasium and beyond
that the boathouse and dock to which several gaily-painted canoes were
fastened.

The family at Camp Wachita consisted of Martha Washington Jones, the
colored cook; Bonsey, her twelve-year-old son, who very occasionally
made himself useful about the camp; Captain O'Leary, a Spanish War
Veteran by title and by occupation caretaker of the horses and boats;
Miky, the little Irish terrier, and Jim Crow, who had been brought, the
summer before, to the camp hospital from the woodland to receive first
aid for a broken wing, and had refused to leave the family.

Keineth had little difficulty in making friends with the other girls.
There seemed to be among them such a jolly spirit of comradeship that
she found it very easy to call them Jessie and Nellie and Kate, and
never once wondered at their quickly adopting Peggy's familiar "Ken."
She thought that Peggy must have known them all very well and was
surprised when Peggy told her that there were only three of her friends
among them.

"But we're all Ricky's girls, you see," she explained, as though that
was all that was necessary to create a firm bond of loyalty and
friendship among them.

"Ricky," this captain of girls, was a tall, straight, broad-shouldered
woman of twenty-five. The sunniness of her smile, the firmness of her
jaw and the all-understanding warmth of her dark eyes told of the
character which made her a leader of others and a spirit beloved among
them all.

Each new day of the camp life brought to Keineth some new experience,
thrilling in its strangeness to the little girl. She had learned to
love going to sleep with the great, star-lit vault of the sky
enveloping her; the singing of the "bugs," as Peggy had put it, was
fairy music to her ears; she had conquered her first terror of the
shell-like canoes and now could paddle with confidence, even venturing
alone upon the shallow water. And to her own surprise she was enjoying
the companionship of the other girls!

Among them was one named Stella Maybeck. Stella was not an attractive
girl--she was too tall and too thin, her voice was loud and her manners
a little careless. She had big, dark eyes with a hungry look in their
depths. She adored Ricky and showed a preference for Keineth's company.
At first Keineth felt a little repelled by the girl's rough ways, but
gradually she grew to feel that beneath them was a warm, kind heart and
that it was, perhaps, shyness that often made Stella's manner
disagreeable.

They walked together on the tramps into the woods and Keineth enjoyed
the fund of knowledge the other girl seemed to have concerning all the
little woodland creatures and their ways.

"I don't see why you like to be with Stella Maybeck," Peggy had said to
her one day. "I think she is horrid!" she finished unkindly.

"Why, Peggy!" Keineth frowned. It was very unfair in Peggy to speak in
this way concerning one of the other girls. Keineth did not suspect
that perhaps a little jealousy prompted Peggy's ungraciousness.

This little cloud was to grow over the whole camp. And in the second
week Ricky's girls learned a lesson of greater value to them than all
the scoutcraft they loved.

Twice a week the vegetable man came to the camp with fruit and
vegetables. These the girls placed in the storehouse, one of them
carefully checking off the purchases as they did so. One morning some
oranges were reported missing. Ricky paid little attention to the
incident. The next day one of the girls came to her and announced that
a ring had been taken from her sleeping tent. Although disturbed, Miss
Grimball gently rebuked the girl for having disobeyed the camp rules in
bringing jewelry to it and sent her away, bidding her speak to no one
of her loss.

Then Miss Grimballs silver purse containing ten dollars in bills was
taken from her desk!

Like a flash the story spread through the camp. The girls gathered in
an excited group. Keineth and Stella, with arms locked, stood together.
From the other side of the group Peggy saw them. The jealousy that had
been slumbering within her heart suddenly gripped her.

"Well, I think I could guess who did it, all right, and I just think
it's a shame for anyone like that to I dare to come to Ricky's camp!"
It was not necessary to do more than fix her gaze indignantly upon
Stella Maybeck. With a little gasp Stella turned and ran into her tent.
The others pressed closer to Peggy.

"Oh, do you think so?" they whispered in awed voices.

"Peggy!" cried Keineth, imploringly.

"I'm not going to say another word," Peggy answered, perhaps a little
frightened at what she had done.

The girls waited breathlessly for Miss Grimball to take some action in
the matter. Each felt that the disgrace must be wiped from the happy
camp life.

At noon Ricky's whistle sounded. The girls assembled on the gymnasium
ground. Their captain stood before them, dear-eyed, smiling at them all
with her usual confidence. Stella, with Keineth, had joined the others
and stood in the background.

"I think you all know what has happened. I am disturbed, but I will not
suspect one of my girls. All I want to say is this--so great is my
trust in your loyalty, in your honor, and in your sense of what is
square--if one of you, through an unfortunate yielding to temptation,
has taken these things that have been lost, they will be returned,
because you are girls of honor. So I am not worrying. Now, please do
not talk of the matter among yourselves."

The routine of the day went on. The girls avoided Stella; only Keineth
kept close to her side. Keineth longed to pour out to Stella her
confidence in her innocence and her indignation at Peggy, but a certain
pride in Stella's manner forbade it; she could not find the right
words, so she simply occasionally squeezed Stella's hand!

In this way two unhappy days passed. Then on the third morning Peggy,
crossing the path leading to the kitchen, saw Jim Crow scurrying toward
the wood with a spoon in his mouth! On tip-toe she followed him.
Turning off from the trail near the edge of the woodland, he stood for
a moment as though listening, then dropped his treasure into the hollow
trunk of a dead tree!

And there Peggy, following the rascal, found the oranges, the ring, and
Ricky's silver purse!

In that moment when Peggy stood alone among the trees, the stolen
things in her hands, she learned a lesson that she could never forget!
She walked slowly back to Miss Grimball's office and told her the story
of Jim and of her own unjust accusation of Stella.

"We should have suspected Jim, the villain," Ricky laughed. "Another
chapter in scoutcraft, Peggy. Will you go, my dear, and tell Stella?"
Then she gently put her hand upon Peggy's head, "Judge not, my dear,"
and, leaning, she kissed her.

Peggy rushed off in search of Stella. She found her sitting on the
dock, a picture of misery, Keineth by her side.

"Stella, I was a wicked, wicked girl! It was Jim Crow stole the things,
and I found them in an old tree and I wouldn't blame you if you never
forgave me! I think the reason I was so horrid was because I was just
_jealous_ that Ken loved you more than she did me--" For lack of breath
Peggy stopped, her soul clean from her confession.

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