The following week, every member of Wickeecheokee Band was busy after school, working hard on their carpentry. Some had decided to make wooden toys for the little ones, some preferred odd pieces of furniture, such as a foot-stool, a tabouret, a waste-paper-basket, etc. The older Woodcrafters were busy making more difficult things as they had had some practise in the handling of tools and wood. May Randall, not to be outdone by the older members, wanted to manufacture a Woodcraft Chest to hold the papers, beads, and other things she would collect in her Woodcraft work as time went on.

“I never dreamed this work could be so tedious,” sighed Ethel Clifford, whittling away at a bit of wood that had to dove-tail into the other section. She was making a set of fire-boards.

“One never realises how long a time hand-made articles take. That is why they always cost more than machine made objects,” added Anne Mason.

“I hope my tilting stools will look like the picture given in the Manual,” now said Mildred Howell. “If they don’t work I shall give up in despair.”

“I think they look great, Mil. Maybe you’ll get a coup,” remarked Zan, who looked up from the elaborate bead-loom she was decorating, having constructed the entire machine of wood.

“I just adore that bead-loom you made, Zan,” now said May Randall, working industriously at the chest she was etching in pyrography.

“I’ll tell you what, May! If the bead-loom you expect to make turns out half as fine as that chest, it will be better than mine,” praised Zan. “I never saw a girl handle tools as naturally and deftly as you do—for a greenhorn, too!”

May laughed in a pleased tone for honest praise is sweet.

“What is Eleanor Wilbur making, girls?” asked Hilda.

“I don’t know—she hasn’t been with us yet, you know,” replied Anne Mason, evasively.

“Is she doing anything else besides making trouble?” asked May Randall, in her blunt way.

“I’ll thank you to mind your own business, Miss May Randall,” called a voice from the door.

The girls flushed guiltily as they looked up and found Eleanor herself trembling with anger. She had stopped at Zan’s house to leave a borrowed book and the maid told her the girls were on the back-porch working. So she happened there unannounced.

“Well, are you, Eleanor?” persisted May, defiantly.

“I’ll tell you what’s troubling you, all right—you dog-in-the-manger, you! You’re afraid I’ll win out ahead of you in the test for membership, so you go to work in an underhanded way to prejudice the others against me,” declared Eleanor.

“Hardly, Miss Wilbur, for Zan just told us that Ethel handed her a letter to be read at the weekly Council. She is to go to California next month to be gone all Winter so she has withdrawn her application till Spring,” snapped May, with satisfaction.

“Then there are only five after all,” said Eleanor, a gleam of pleasure on her face.

“There may be only four—if one of the new members keeps on the undesirable pathway she has trodden since applying for membership!” taunted May, who had a sharp tongue at times.

“Pooh!” sounded from Eleanor and Jane banged her work down loudly upon the floor and said angrily:

“For pity’s sake, forget it—you two! We never had a single scrap like this when we were at Camp!”

“I’m not scrapping a bit,” defended Eleanor. “It is that hateful old thing over there. But as I am going now anyway, don’t bother to shut her up. I’m on my way to visit Miss Miller, so I will just mention the fact that Miss Randall is running the Tribe now, and she as old Guide can resign gracefully or be ousted by the new Guide!” sneered Eleanor, slamming the door as she left the porch.

“Can’t we put her out, girls! I am getting to hate her,” cried May, spitefully.

“You’re letting your anger get the best of you, May. It has already made you lose out in one test—same as Eleanor has. Besides, Eleanor may need Woodcraft more than any of us, because the work isn’t a matter of pastime as much as for improvement,” said Zan, who had had a private talk with the Guide and to her questions about ousting Eleanor, had been told some truths that made her think of Nita and the impatience the girls felt at her in Camp that Summer.

“Girls, since Zan spoke of May’s Woodcraft box I have been thinking—why can’t we have contests in work and give a prize to the one having the best product to show with the others at the exhibit?” said Elena, trying to change their current of thought.

“Let’s do it! The one to win this Saturday, to have a suitable prize awarded for the different points covered,” said Zan.

“It will be for neatness, utility, beauty, and time taken in the making,” suggested Jane.

“I wonder if Headquarters ever started contests with the Woodcrafters for certain requirements well-done?” wondered Nita.

“Let’s have Miss Miller write to find out. Maybe we can give them a new idea,” commented Hilda.

Silence followed for a few moments after that decision and Nita began humming a new Hawaiian air.

“That reminds me, Nita, did you find any new folk songs that we might adapt for dancing?” asked Jane.

“Oh, yes, I have a dandy! Want to see me do it while you take a little rest from work?” cried eager Nita.

Nita never lost an opportunity to dance, and it was her greatest delight to show her friends any new steps or figures she had improvised for a Woodcraft Folk Song or Dance, which really is true dancing from over-flowing joy in the heart—but not the so-called wanton dances in vogue at the present time.

The girls always enjoyed watching the graceful form as it bent low or whirled around in the Indian Acting Songs, so to-day they approved the suggestion to rest and be entertained by Nita.

“I shall have to sing the words in French as Miss Miller and I haven’t translated them yet. The air is familiar to most of you and you must hum it with me. Now I will sing and slowly step the bars while you try to study the action and practise it at home,” announced Nita.

SUR LE PONT D’AVIGNON

Sur le pont d’Avignon,

Tout le mondey danse;

Sur le pont d’Avignon,

Tout le mondey danse en rond,

Les beaux messieurs font comm’ ga,

Et puis encor comm’ ga:

Sur le pont d’Avignon,

Tout le mondey danse, danse

Sur le pont d’Avignon

Tout le mondey danse en rond.

Sur le pont d’Avignon,

Tout le mondey danse, danse;

Sur le pont d’Avignon,

Tout le mondey danse en rond.

Les belles dames font comm’ ga,

Et puis encor comm’ ga:

Sur le pont d’Avignon,

Tout le mondey danse, danse

Sur le pont d’Avignon,

Tout le mondey danse en rond.

Sur le pont d’Avignon,

Tout le mondey danse, danse;

Sur le pont d’Avignon,

Tout le mondey danse en rond,

Et les capucins font comm’ ga,

Et puis encor comm’ ga,

Sur le pont d’Avignon,

Tout le mondey danse, danse

Sur le pont d’Avignon,

Tout le mondey danse en rond.

Thereupon Nita danced The Bridge song to the satisfaction of her audience. They applauded and encored until she laughingly consented to treat them to their favourite dances. Many of these were steps invented by Nita to improve upon the old folk dances. When the girl, breathless, finally sat down, the other girls complimented her to her heart’s content.

“I wish we could learn that bridge song and dance it for Miss Miller as a surprise,” suggested Zan.

“Let’s do it!” abetted Elena.

“We ought to complete our carpentry work first,” ventured May.

“We haven’t any extra class studies at home this week so we might carpenter in the afternoons and dance at night,” eagerly said Nita.

“Why not come over to my house at eight and I will have the rugs and furniture moved out of the living-room. Anne and I will be all alone this evening as the others are going out,” added Frances Mason.

“That’s fine! Who can meet at the Masons’ at eight to-night?” called Zan, looking about at the Woodcrafters.

“We surely will—every one of us,” accepted Hilda.

“Well, don’t waste our time making us wait for you. If someone can’t come let her telephone before meeting-time,” advised Anne Mason.

“Hoh! Anne doesn’t know us yet! Catch a Woodcrafter being late when there’s any fun going!” laughed Jane.

Every member was there before eight that night, Eleanor having been notified over the telephone. A merry evening was enjoyed with dancing and singing and most of the girls were sure the French Folk Song could be mastered for a private exhibition on Saturday if they had one more evening’s practise.

“To-morrow is Thursday and some of us are booked to go to those Burton-Holmes Lectures, but we might all meet again on Friday night?” suggested Zan.

“Some of us could meet to-morrow and practise, and then all meet Friday,” added Hilda.

“Where do you want to meet Friday—come to my house,” invited Jane.

As the Huberts had a large house with a splendid living-room, it offered excellent facilities for dancing, so the girls gladly accepted the invitation.

Shortly after nine o’clock Friday night, while the Woodcrafters were cooling off and talking about their successful dancing lesson of the French song, Mrs. Hubert opened the door and peeped in.

“When you finish dancing maybe you’ll come to the kitchen and help me make some fudge?” hinted she.

“We’re all through!” cried Zan, jumping up and running for the door.

“So we are when there’s fudge on the programme,” laughed Elena.

But fudge was not the only candy made that night. As Saturday morning was a “lazy day” for school-girls, they could sleep an hour later than usual. So there was no haste to get home and to bed that night.

“Mrs. Hubert, you always promised to give us the recipe for your fudge—it is so good!” exclaimed Elena.

“Why, I’ll tell you right now, and you can watch me make it, too,” replied Mrs. Hubert.

“Lena, write it down to enter in our Tally,” said Zan.

As Mrs. Hubert itemised the ingredients for Elena to write down, she measured out the quantities for the candy.

“One cup of granulated sugar, one cup of powdered sugar, one and a half cakes of Baker’s chocolate, a lump of butter about the size of a walnut, two-thirds of a cup of milk, and any flavour desired. I shall use vanilla to-night as most girls like that.

“Now I boil the milk and sugar, stirring all the time from when it is first placed over the fire. When it fairly hardens so as to form a ball when dropped in cold water, I remove it from the stove and add the chocolate which must be shaved very fine, or even grated as it is to-night.

“Next I add the vanilla, and the butter last. Quickly then, I beat it until it thickens but it must not sugar. Pour it in buttered tins and when it is partly hardened we can cut it into squares.

“In case any of you do not have powdered sugar in the house you can use granulated but the powdered sugar makes it creamy and there is less danger of crystallising while beating.”

The fudge was made and declared the finest ever tasted.

“Oh, but you girls say that every time I treat you,” laughed Mrs. Hubert.

“It’s true, and that shows how you improve in candy-making every time you cook it for us,” retorted Zan, quickly.

“Which interpreted means: ‘Be sure and give us fudge every time we visit you,’” laughed Mrs. Hubert.

“You’d hear no kick coming from the Woodcrafters,” added Jane.

“Jane! There you go again with your slang! I thought Miss Miller was curing you girls of that pernicious habit,” said Mrs. Hubert.

“We were cured, Mother, but you see our brothers were still ill with the despised complaint and we caught it again, didn’t we Zan?” said Jane, appealing to her competitor in slang.

Zan’s mouth was too full of fudge to reply but she nodded her head vigorously to express her feelings about slang.

“Dear, dear, such girls!” sighed Mrs. Hubert, taking a recipe book from the shelf and turning to a page of candies.

“Girls, shall I show you how to make nougat?” asked she.

Naturally they cried “yes” and Elena prepared to make another entry in the Tally.

“Always blanch the almonds or other nuts to be used. I generally keep some on hand so we won’t have to take time for that work to-night. Now some of you girls skin these nuts and some of you can chop them very fine.

“For the nougat, I melt some powdered sugar, using a dessert-spoonful of lemon juice to every pound of sugar. It takes double the weight of sugar in almonds. We have a pound of sugar, so I use two pounds of chopped nuts. They must be hot before dropping them into the sugar-syrup.

“We ought to have regular nougat moulds like confectioners use, but not having them, I have to take the flat tin we use for ginger-bread. That is why I had you chop the nuts very fine—so that the nougat when it is spread in the tin, can be cut with a knife.

“Into this buttered tin, I press the nougat with the lemon skin until it is all smoothed out flat. Then I quickly cut the bars so they can be broken apart when it is cold. If we had regular moulds we could use the nuts in much larger pieces.”

“I always thought that nougat was a dreadfully hard candy to make, but it is as simple as rolling off a log,” declared Hilda.

“I just love it, don’t you?” said Elena, sniffing the odour that rose from the pan of candy.

“You love any kind of candy. Your mother says you have a ‘sweet tooth,’” laughed Nita.

“I’ll show you how to make one other kind of candy and then it will be time for you to go home. It is ten o’clock now,” said Mrs. Hubert.

“Put a cupful of powdered sugar in a bowl and add about a quarter of a teaspoonful of cream, or at least enough to stir the spoon about in the mixture easily. Be careful not to use too much cream, though, as that will make it run and not cream itself. Now add a teaspoonful of lemon or vanilla. We will use the latter for this cream. Next stir the mixture well until all lumps are worked smooth like a paste.

“Here, Jane, stone these dates but do not break them asunder.

“Now girls, as the dates are stoned, you take enough cream to fill the opening made by the stone. Then you stick the edges of the date together again and roll in powdered sugar. They are then placed on an oiled paper to keep from sticking while drying.”

The creamed dates were soon made and tasted. Some of the Woodcrafters said they needed a much larger taste than a single date offered, and Mrs. Hubert laughed. While the girls were away from the kitchen to find their hats and coats, the hostess divided the candy left and gave each amateur confectioner a package to take home with her.

Saturday with its weekly Council found each girl, except Eleanor, more than elated with the finished article of carpentry work to exhibit at the meeting. Of the entire collection the bead-loom, tabouret, and chest were considered the best.

“I declare, girls, it is marvelous how neatly you have fitted the corners and finished the edges of the work. May’s chest is as pretty and well-made as any I have ever seen. The hinges and clasp are original and hand-made, too, I see. Did you originate the design alone, May?” said the Guide, after admiring the objects placed in a row on the table.

“Yes, and the copper hinges and clasp are cut and hammered out of an old sauce-pan mother threw away a long time ago,” replied pleased May.

“And does the key turn easily?” inquired Miss Miller, lifting the lid of the chest and examining the key-hole carefully.

“I haven’t found a key to fit yet!” laughed May.

Then the Guide’s attention was given to an investigation of the elaborate bead-loom made and decorated by Zan as her contribution to the contest.

“Does it work, Zan?” queried Miss Miller.

“Not unless it is supplied with motive-power!”

“Then you must have tried it out with a bit of your tremendous energy,” retorted the Guide, smiling at the girl’s bright face.

“Not only tried it but finished a strip of bead banding that takes the cake! I have decided to make enough trimming to decorate a new ceremonial costume that will turn every Woodcraft girl green with envy,” bragged Zan.

“That is a boast indeed! Did you include the Tribes of other Woodcrafters in that challenge?”

“Yep, everybody but Elizabeth Remington. She certainly has the loveliest beading I ever saw, but then she has had two years’ designing at the School of Art,” replied Zan.

After many comparisons and due deliberation, it was decided to present May Randall with the prize for that contest. As May was a beginner and the chest was her first piece of work, it won a point above Zan’s loom, which also was a fine piece of work. Both of these objects were excellent bits of cabinet-work and so neatly finished and beautifully decorated that it was a draw. May flushed with happiness when she heard that Zan awarded the prize to her.

“I think the plan of awarding prizes for best work is a good one but we should decide upon the prize before the contest is started each week. What have you for May to-day?” said Miss Miller.

“Well, this week we were going to present the winner a solid gold loving cup but our Wampum Keeper reported a state of bankruptcy so we had to sacrifice our wishes to conform with the exchequer,” said Zan, solemnly, while the girls giggled.

“I suggested that we take a picture of May, so I brought my camera. It can be pasted in the Tally Book and mentioned as the winner of the carpentry contest,” said Elena.

“And I thought the film could be enlarged to a size that will correspond with our cash on hand, and present it to May,” added Hilda.

“If we make a picture each week of the prize-winner and article made it will add greatly to the beauty and interest of the Tally,” ventured the Guide.

“Come on, May, and pose over by the log scenery to have your picture taken,” called Elena, starting for the Council Ring.

“Oh wait, Lena! Don’t let’s have an indoor picture. It will look so much better if posed out-doors,” cried Nita.

“Let’s go over to the fence-corner next to our back yard where the group of pines will make a pretty back-ground,” suggested Frances Mason.

“That’s fine! And we’ll stand May on some of our logs and have her look happy while holding her chest!” exclaimed Anne.

“When folks see May holding her chest in the picture, they’ll think she had a bad cold,” came from Zan, quickly.

Everyone laughed but Anne added: “Oh, you old tease, you know what I meant.”

“All right, come on and show us what you meant!”

“I wish to goodness we had a ceremonial costume here to dress May and do the picture up in a truly artistic manner,” sighed Elena.

“Hilda and May are about the same size—why not run Hilda home to get hers?” suggested Jane.

“It won’t take more’n ten minutes, Hilda, if you jump on a trolley!” added Nita, when Hilda frowned down the proposition.

A honking from an automobile horn was heard just then, and Zan jumped up to run to the door, saying: “Sounds like your machine, Jenny!”

“If it should be Jack, he could drive Hilda over for the dress,” replied Jane.

Before Zan reached the door of the gymnasium, however, the tousled head of Fiji Baker appeared at the opening and he called out ingratiatingly: “Don’t stop the show for me; ‘let joy be unconfined’ as I just dropped in for a second to see Miss Miller. Jack is out front tying the bouquets we wish to throw at the famous dancer!”

Nita laughed for she had confided in the boys and told them about the new dance scheduled for that Council Meeting.

“Oh, Fiji, you came in answer to our prayers, I’m sure. We need someone to hustle Hilda over home for a most important package she forgot, and now Jack can fly while you talk with Miss Miller,” explained Zan, pushing Hilda towards the door as she spoke.

“You’ll win a coup on this for ‘first aid,’” said Jane to Fiji.

But Fiji paid no attention as he was deeply concerned over some secret he was whispering to the Guide. Meantime Hilda was urged to order Jack to drive as fast as he dared so she could be back with the costume before the sun went down.

Before Fiji and Miss Miller had finished their engrossing conversation, Hilda returned and the girls adjourned to the scenic-screen-room to dress the prize-winner in a befitting costume.

May was posed first in one attitude, then in another, till everyone had satisfied her artistic sense of the picture to be, and perhaps they would all have had another trial had not May sighed, and cried:

“I’ll be so glad when you really click that trigger! This box grows heavier and heavier every minute. I’m sure it weighs a ton by this time.”

Several snap-shots were taken and May placed the “ton” prize-winner on the ground and stretched her arms. Then the Woodcrafters filed back to the gymnasium, where Miss Miller explained the reason of Fiji’s visit.

“Doctor Baker invites the Band to join the boys in a week-end camp near-by the city. Fiji said he and the other boys have been scouting about for some days trying to find just the right kind of a site where girls would be comfortable.” Miss Miller paused here to allow the announcement to sink in.

“Huh! I guess Dad wants our Band to act as sort of a brake on those boys’ speed,” commented Zan, nevertheless pleased at the invitation.

“Won’t it be fun?” cried Jane.

“Where will it be, Miss Miller?” asked Nita.

“Why, Fiji says they have found a wonderful place on the sea-side of Staten Island. ‘The woods almost meet the beach,’ he said.”

“Oh, can’t we try that aqua-planing Elizabeth Remington told us of?” eagerly questioned Zan.

“We haven’t any to try with,” replied Jane.

“Fred Remington told Fiji the other day that it was the easiest thing to make. Just one, two, three! and it is done!” declared Zan, snapping her fingers with each count.

“I have it! Let’s invite Elizabeth to join us in camp and then add, as an after-thought, how nice it would be if she brought her plane,” exclaimed Nita, showing that there were still some undestroyed self-motives in her character.

“Even so, there wouldn’t be any motive-power unless Zan supplied some of her boundless energy,” laughed the Guide.

“It won’t work in deep water, Miss Miller,” retorted Zan.

“If Elizabeth is invited for the plane why not ask Fred and Billy for their launch?” now suggested Jane.

“Sure enough! You tell Jack to, will you?” chorused some of the girls.

After a lively Council Meeting, the Woodcrafters started eagerly homeward for they were anticipating the camp and wanted to hear what the boys had to say about the plane and launch.

But it happened that Fiji and Jack had already thought of the launch and had invited Fred and his younger brother before the girls spoke of it. The plane was another matter and they agreed to see Elizabeth about joining them.

The campers intended starting for the trip immediately after school on Friday afternoon. Three automobiles—the Bakers’, Huberts’, and Remingtons’—would carry them and their luggage to the place selected. Fred, Billy, and Bob Baker would go in the launch, while Fiji and Jack planned to paddle their canoe around the Island to the beach where the camp was to be.

The canoe owned by the two boys was kept on the lake in Branch Brook Park when the boys were in the city, but during their vacations they usually took it with them. It now had to be transported across the city to the Passaic River. Here the boys arranged to meet the express-man and sail it from that point to Staten Island Sound, thence to the sea-beach-shore of the Island.

Fred Remington planned to sail the launch along the same route but he would start later in the day. The canoemen would start in the morning if clear. The girls in the cars would leave directly after school in the afternoon, and all expected to meet about the same time on the woodland site chosen by the boys.

The days preceding Friday afternoon were an anxious time for the Woodcrafters for they feared it might rain yet hoped that the weather would be glorious.

The camera picture of May and the chest was developed and printed and proved to be a great success. It was named “The Prize-winner,” and the film was sent away to be enlarged. Meantime, the Woodcraft Chest had been left on Miss Miller’s table in the gymnasium as she wished to show it to the scholars who were becoming interested in Woodcraft.

Tuesday afternoon, when she wished to lock the chest in her private closet, it was not to be found. She sought everywhere, asked the janitor, and telephoned the girls, but no one had seen or heard a thing about it.

Miss Miller worried herself ill over the loss, not so much because of the value of the chest but because it proved there was a dishonest scholar in that school! May was heart-broken too, as it was her first accomplishment in Woodcraft and she was so proud of it, that she had invited all her friends to be sure and call to see it as soon as it was home in her possession. And now it might never be heard from again!