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Page 4
"Well, the more we delay the more I want to go back home," Dagmar
replied rather timidly. "Tessie, I am afraid I will not be able to
look at things your way. I seem to have different ideas."
"Now, Daggie. Don't go getting scary. I don't care whether you
think my way or not. I won't fight about it. Let's hurry," and
with renewed protestations of real companionship, the older girl
grasped the arm of the younger, as if fearful of losing her hold
on the other's confidence.
"Oh, please don't call me Daggie," objected Dagmar, freeing
herself from the rather too securely pressed arm grasp. "You know
how I hate that. Always makes me feel like a daggar. Call me
Marrie. That's American, and I am an American, you know."
"All right, little Liberty. I'll call you Georgianna Washington if
you say so, Marrie. That's like putting on airs for Marie. But
just as you say," evidently willing to make any concession to have
the younger girl accept her own terms.
"Wait! My foot struck something," exclaimed Dagmar, just reaching
the spot where burnt matches left the trail of the girl scout
searchers. "There, I found the badge."
"Oh, let's look! Is it gold?" They stopped under the street lamp
to examine the trinket.
"No, it isn't gold, I think, but isn't it pretty?"
"Kinda," urging Dagmar along. "Say, kid, what is this anyway? A
stopover we've Struck? Are we going tonight or some other night?"
"I'll have to give this badge back."
"Why will you? Didn't you find it? Isn't it yours?"
"Of course not. It belongs to the girl who lost it."
"Oh, I see. That's why I should call you Georgianna Washington,"
with a note of scorn in her voice. "Well, if you want to go back,
and get some one to go out ringing the town bell with you, you may
find the nice little girl scout who lost her baby badge. As for
me--I'm going."
Sheer contempt now sounded unmistakably in the voice of the girl
called Tessie. She shook herself free from Dagmar, and darted
ahead with determination long delayed, and consequently more
forceful.
For a moment the young girl hesitated. She sort of fondled the
little scout badge in her hands, and might have been heard to
sigh, if a girl of her severely disciplined temperament ever
indulged in anything so weakly human as a sigh.
But as the fleeing girl more surely made her tracks to the
station, thus leaving the other alone in the night, Dagmar, too,
quickened her steps.
"Tessie," she called finally. "Tessie, wait. I can't go back now."
That was all Tessie wanted. She waited, and when again they took
up tangled threads of their adventure it was scarcely possible
either would allow any further interruptions to delay them.
And Dagmar clutched in her tightly clasped hand the lost scout
badge.
CHAPTER II
WOODLAND THRILLS
It was Margaret Slowden who lost the Badge of Merit. The pretty
gilt wreath, with its clover leaf center on a dainty white ribbon
hanger, had been presented to Margaret on such an auspicious
occasion, that the emblem meant much more to the girl scout than
its official value of rank indicated.
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