“We’re all here, Miss Wilkinson!” cried Queenie, meeting Marjorie and Lily at the door, and slipping her arm through that of her captain. “And we mean to work tonight—to do whatever you say!”
Under her eyelashes Marjorie perceived the sidewise, sheepish glances of the others. It was evident that they expected a severe reprimand.
But she had no intention of making any mention of the hike. She felt that the matter had been settled between herself and Queenie; any further reference to it would do more harm than good.
Instead she immediately introduced Lily, and said that if the others were willing, she would serve as of the troop. As usual, the patrol leader answered for the rest, in an enthusiastic affirmative.
She went through the usual formal opening of the meeting, , after the pledge to the flag and the repetition of the oath and laws, to the regular business. She could hardly restrain her smile as she called for the report of the minutes of the secretary upon the hike.
“I—haven’t—any report,” Stella, in .
“Then please write one up for our next meeting,” answered the captain. “Is there any old business to come before the troop?”
There was a moment of intense silence; then Queenie’s better nature took possession of her, and she rose to her feet bravely.
“I want to apologize to the captain for my own and my patrol’s behaviour on the hike!” she out. “And I’d like to have this go in the minutes.”
“Your apology is accepted,” replied Marjorie, in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Now,” she continued, “we shall proceed to new business. I have been to the scout headquarters this week, and have learned that there is a small basket-ball league in the city organization—small because only second-class are to enter. There are already four teams in the league—which begins its schedule in December. A cup is offered to the winning team. I should like to know how my troop would like to qualify.”
“Basket-ball!” exclaimed Queenie. “Oh, boy!”
“But we ain’t players,” objected Gertie.
“You could learn the game,” explained Marjorie. “There is a splendid floor here, and I could play with you—and Miss Andrews, too. Officers aren’t barred out, unless they’re professionals.”
Marjorie had the stir of interest on the girls’ faces and knew that she had hit at least one cherished dream among her members. The girls all read the sporting pages of the papers, and talked with the boys. Besides, they knew that it was no child’s game.
“Could you play and coach both?” asked Queenie.
“No, not very well. I’d rather have a man to coach. If you are willing, I think my brother would do it.”
“Your brother?” cried somebody.
“Is he married?” whispered another girl, audibly.
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CHAPTER X. MARJORIE’S ESCORT.
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CHAPTER XII. ETHEL’S ADVICE.
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