The first Scout meeting after the girls returned from the holidays was teeming with excitement. Ruth Henry reported that she had found the canoe; and received, to her delight, great applause. Marjorie revealed what she knew about Frieda, omitting to tell about the letter she wrote to the girl; and Miss Phillips informed them that they still had three hundred dollars in the treasury.

"Now for the new patrols," she announced; "I know you are all interested. The three girls with the highest Scout standing, besides Edith Evans who will continue to act as Lieutenant, are Marjorie Wilkinson, Helen Stewart, and Ruth Henry. Ethel Todd came fourth; if we should get enough girls for a new patrol, she would be the leader."

When the clapping had subsided, these girls, with their Captain, withdrew to choose patrol members. Ruth smiled; it was funny that she and Marjorie who were rivals in everything, ever since they had come to Miss Allen's, should again be opposed to each other.

The patrol leaders chose their members, not so much for their ability as for their personality. For this reason, Helen Stewart's patrol included the five senior Scouts, Vivien VanSciver, and two freshmen—Florence Evans and her room-mate, Mildred Cavin. Marjorie's included Lily, Ethel, Frances, Marian, Doris, Alice Endicott, and Daisy Gravers. And Ruth's, of course, comprised her own following: Ada Mearns, Barbara Hill, Mae VanHorn, Evelyn Hopkins and three girls she did not know so well—Anna Cane, Dorothy Whitcomb, and Gladys Staley.

As soon as the patrols were announced, Miss Phillips talked to them about keeping up the standards of each patrol: promptness, industry in Scout work, etc., saying that whichever patrol won the highest standing by the end of the year would be senior patrol the next year. For the present, Helen's division was to have this honor.

"For two months now," continued the Captain, after the excitement had died down, "we shall do nothing but Scout work. Each girl is to prepare for the next test higher up.

"And, of course, you have not forgotten the trip to Washington. During spring vacation, I shall take the first eight girls who have passed their first-class test; so I want you all to get to work. All the girls who were in the troop last year, and are now second-class Scouts, are eligible. All who went to camp passed the first-aid division of the examination; they are not required to take that over again. I should, therefore, advise the following Scouts to get to work:

"Edith Evans, Elsie Lorimer, Emily Rankin, Mary Ridgeway, Frances Wright, Ethel Todd, Marian Guard, Ada Mearns, Lily Andrews, Ruth Henry, Doris Sands, Marjorie Wilkinson.

"I wish I could take all twelve," she concluded; "but I suppose it's more fun because of the competition."

"I'm going to stay up every night, all night!" declared Ruth; "just studying to pass!"

"So long as you don't kidnap any more children, Ruth, you're all right!" tantalized Ada, who could never forget Ruth's vain attempt the previous summer to pass the first-class examination.

Dismissing the subject, Miss Phillips remarked,

"You know, Miss Martin wanted our troop to come over and demonstrate Scouting early in the fall, but I wouldn't go until we had three patrols. Then, on account of the rush of Christmas time, we put it off until after the new year. So—be prepared for a shock—we are going to-morrow afternoon!"

"To-morrow afternoon!" echoed Ethel. "But Captain——"

"I know, Ethel; I realize I am asking a great deal. But listen to my reasons:

"First, the date suits Miss Martin; second, it suits Mr. Remington and the Boy Scouts; and third, it's going to snow."

The girls listened in open-mouthed amazement to these reasons. What could the Boy Scouts, Mr. Remington, and the condition of the weather—especially a stormy one—have to do with a trip to Miss Martin's? But no one uttered a sound; the girls simply waited for an explanation, for they all thought they had not heard their Captain correctly.

Miss Phillips evidently enjoyed their consternation, for she made no attempt to explain.

"Can everybody go?" she asked.

"Must everybody go, Captain?" asked Ethel. "I had another engagement——"

"Oh, if there is anything you can't break, like a dentist appointment——"

"No, it's social!"

"Then you must choose for yourself. We should love to have you, but we can get along without anyone except the three patrol leaders. But I am pretty sure I can guarantee you a good time."

"I know it will be!" cried Ruth, her eyes dancing with anticipation. "Don't we just remember how lovely all our Captain's other surprises turned out to be?"

In the end, Ethel, as well as everybody else, decided to go. The mention of a snowstorm and of the Boy Scouts proved too alluring to pass by.

"Wear your Scout suits, take sweaters, and wear woolen caps and heavy coats," Miss Phillips directed.

The weather man's prediction of snow was correct, for when the girls awakened on Saturday morning, they found everything white. By the time lunch was over, however, it had completely stopped snowing, and the paths were comparatively clear.

The girls gathered expectantly in the hall, dressed according to their Captain's directions.

"Are we going to hike?" asked Frances, looking about in vain for Miss Phillips.

The jingle of sleighbells in front of the door gave an answer to this question. Rushing outside, the girls beheld two sleighs, big enough to carry all the troop. Miss Phillips herself was already seated in the front of one of them, beside the driver, and was enjoying to the full the Scouts' rapturous surprise.

"Now we understand about the snow!" cried Frances, jumping up eagerly beside the Captain. "But where do the Boy Scouts come in?"

"They don't come in the sleigh at all," laughed Miss Phillips; "there wouldn't be room!"

The girls knew it was no use to try to satisfy their curiosity by asking their Captain questions. So they gave themselves up to the enjoyment of the ride.

The air was now clear and bracing, the country beautiful, and the sleighs seemed to fly along. Lily Andrews, who had always lived in New York City, and one or two others, had never experienced the sensation before; the smooth, gliding motion filled them with delight. All too soon the hour passed, and they reached Miss Martin's.

"I wish it were twice as far!" cried Marjorie. Then, catching sight of some girls of the other school, she changed her tone and called out a greeting.

Miss Martin's whole school turned out to welcome them; they invited them into their parlors, where steaming cocoa and cinnamon toast were served. The girls were hungry, and, in spite of their protestations, somewhat cold; but they soon warmed themselves before the cheerful fireplaces and drank the hot cocoa.

It was nearly four o'clock when they began their demonstration. There had been no special preparation; Miss Phillips announced that she would call for events as she thought of them.

She summoned different girls for signalling, first-aid, knot-tying, resuscitation, etc., including all the Scouts in the recitation of the laws and pledge. To no girl did she give any special distinction and on account of this Ruth was disappointed. She had hoped that Miss Phillips would single out the Patrol leaders and place them in a position of honor above all the others. Marjorie was well known to all the girls at Miss Martin's because of her brilliant athletic record; Ruth wished the girls to know that she was equally important. But Miss Phillips never mentioned them.

As soon as the little celebration was over, the girls took the Scouts over the school. Miss Martin's seminary was very much like Miss Allen's, although not so progressive, or of quite so high a standard. More of the latter's graduates attended colleges; but it was both older and larger than Miss Martin's.

"You'll find that you never made a mistake in starting a troop," remarked Miss Phillips, after she had explained a great many details to Miss Watson, who was to be Captain. "And it will be lots of fun for the two schools. I have my plans all ready for this summer, but perhaps next summer both troops could go to an organized camp together."

"What are we going to do this summer?" asked Ruth, who had overheard part of the conversation.

"Wait and see!" replied Miss Phillips, mysteriously. "You will know pretty soon!"

Regarding this almost as a rebuke, Ruth muttered disagreeably,

"Just so we don't waste any more money on thieves, I'll be satisfied," and turned away.

Miss Phillips did not overhear the remark, but Marjorie did, and it brought tears to her eyes.

"Say, Ruth," she remarked, rather tartly, "why don't you win that medal catching Frieda?"

Ruth shrugged her shoulders.

"I did more than anybody else by finding the canoe," she replied. "I guess nobody else has a better claim to the medal than I have!"

After an early supper, the Scouts wrapped up warmly again, and climbed merrily into the sleighs, bound, as they surmised, toward Miss Allen's. The horses had been fed and rested; the snow on the road was packed hard; the stars twinkled brightly, and the whole world glistened in the star-light. But the ride was shorter than before, for after half an hour the horses turned into a big gate. They were entering the grounds of Episcopal Academy, the home of the Boy Scouts!

Before they had pulled up to a standstill, the doors were thrown open by the boys, who were uttering great shouts of welcome. The girls jumped joyfully to the ground.

"The Girl Scouts don't know what they're here for," laughed Miss Phillips, while they were removing their wraps. "They think it's a party!"

"Isn't it?" asked Marjorie, quite distressed.

"For some of the girls, but not for you!" replied the Captain, significantly. "All the Scouts who wish to qualify for first-class test are to take signalling with Mr. Remington. The rest of us will stay here for games."

"Oh!" exclaimed Ruth, sinking down in her chair. "How could you, Captain?"

"Why didn't you warn us?" demanded Ethel.

"I didn't want to make you nervous, or to spoil this afternoon's ride. Now listen while I read the names of the girls who are to take the test." And she proceeded to read the list of girls whom she had previously announced as qualified. "I would like those twelve girls," she concluded, "to follow Mr. Remington to his office."

Marjorie arose with the others, and did as her Captain directed; but with each step that took her nearer to the place of the examination, she felt herself losing courage.

"Your handbook requires that you be able to send and receive semaphore at the rate of thirty-two letters a minute," said Mr. Remington, when they were all finally seated in the Boy Scout room; "but Miss Phillips tells me the requirement has been lowered by National Headquarters to sixteen. I shall, therefore, pass all of the girls who can receive at the latter rate, but shall later test to see whether anyone can make the higher record."

He proceeded to give the required examinations in both the semaphore and the Morse codes, making them strict, as Miss Phillips had directed. Only four of the twelve girls passed on both codes—Edith Evans, Ruth Henry, Ethel Todd, and Marjorie Wilkinson. And, to Mr. Remington's amazement, all of these girls passed the more difficult standard of thirty-two letters a minute!

"I think you have all earned a chance to dance!" he said, leading the way back to the big parlor where the rest of the young people were enjoying themselves.

And Marjorie and Ruth both danced with happy hearts, for they felt that the most difficult part of their first-class test was behind them, and their trip to Washington practically assured.