The Camp Fire Girls in Glorious France. Vandercook Margaret

now leaned forward resting her elbows on the table.

      “Girls, please listen and help me,” she pleaded. “It is my judgment that the rest of you must start for Paris, but that I must remain here. Tante will not go with us, or change her decision. I have known her all my life. At times she seems easily influenced, at others she is absolutely immovable. This is one of the times. So I must pretend that I mean to accompany you, I must make my preparations just as the rest of you will do, and at the last moment trust to some sudden inspiration which will allow me to stay behind. There is even the possibility that Aunt Patricia and Sally and Vera may appear before noon, though I confess I have not much faith in the idea. Recently, watching for their coming, I have felt a little like Sister Anne in the story of Bluebeard.”

      At this moment Peggy attempted to laugh, although her merriment was not a conspicuous success.

      Immediately after, without questioning Peggy Webster’s conclusion, the Camp Fire girls set about their preparations to join the groups of refugees, now retreating for the second time toward Paris.

      There was not a great deal to be accomplished.

      They had brought with them from their farmhouse on the Aisne only a few essential things, and no one had completely unpacked.

      Fortunately, Yvonne Fleury had stored away at her home, not only sufficient food for their stay at the Château Yvonne, but enough to take with them whatever was required for the journey to Paris.

      For two hours the girls worked industriously, Mrs. Burton assisting them in every possible way and never again referring to her own intention not to accompany them.

      Only once for a few moments she had a short talk with her niece.

      “I know, Peggy, that these are the days when everybody offers the most excellent advice to everybody else, so I suppose I am no exception. But please promise me not to worry about me, or to think of me, until we see each other in Paris. Then I shall be happy to receive any attention you wish to bestow upon me. In all probability the French and American troops will never allow the enemy to reach this neighborhood and I shall enjoy the rest here alone. But if anything occurs you are to tell my husband and your mother that it was my usual obstinacy which forced you girls to make this dangerous trip alone. By the way the old French peasant woman who came in this morning has promised to stay here with me if you will take her little grandson with you and see that no harm comes to him. So you see I shall be perfectly well looked after.”

      “Yes,” Peggy answered non-committally, and went her way.

      A little before noon Mary Gilchrist drove her motor car into a courtyard behind the French château.

      The courtyard was built of stone.

      On the further side a narrow road led on to the main one, which further on connected with the road to Paris.

      A few moments after, the five Camp Fire girls came out of the house dressed for the journey. They wore their Camp Fire traveling costumes especially designed for their new service in France.

      Mrs. Burton accompanied them, but there was nothing in her appearance or manner to suggest that she had changed her decision and intended to go on with them to Paris.

      When four of the girls climbed into the motor, she stood nearby talking to them. Peggy Webster was only a few feet away, making no effort to enter, and yet with her preparations for the trip as complete as any one else.

      “This is not goodbye, girls, merely the French adieu! Really I suppose both the farewells mean ‘God be with you till we meet again.’ As for me I shall see you soon, along with Aunt Patricia, Sally and Vera. Afterwards we shall remain in Paris until the Allies win the war. This cannot be far off, this temporary German success is the last flare of a dying fire. Come, Peggy dear, let me help you climb in.”

      Mrs. Burton’s manner was persistently, almost annoyingly cheerful, though no one of her companions responded to it in the least degree.

      “I suppose you might as well know the truth now, Tante,” Bettina Graham announced. “No one of us has ever meant to allow you to be here alone at the château. We have merely decided that Peggy is your niece and so has a greater right to stay than the rest of us. Goodbye, Peggy. If we hear you and Tante are in special danger we may return to you!”

      Like many another person Mrs. Burton had believed in her own triumph before her battle had been finally won.

      Now she walked over and put her hand on Peggy Webster’s shoulder.

      “Come, dear, I think you understand I mean to be obeyed.”

      Silently two pairs of eyes gauged each other, while two wills fought for supremacy.

      But who would have conquered in the end no one was ever to find out.

      At this instant there was an unexpected noise in the narrow road behind the courtyard of the château.

      Forgetting Peggy for the moment, Mrs. Burton ran toward the gate which led from the courtyard into the road. For the moment she seemed to have lost courage. Few persons in the neighborhood had known of their presence in the Château Yvonne for the past few days.

      She felt a sudden premonition of evil. Who could be appearing at this hour to interrupt the effort of the Camp Fire girls to reach Paris in safety?

      Mrs. Burton stepped out into the road with Peggy Webster following close behind her.

      A cavalcade seemed to be approaching them. Yet there was nothing to suggest danger.

      Nevertheless, the spectacle they now beheld was startling even in war times.

      A pair of heavy cart horses were moving up the road, drawing a large farm wagon.

      Two cows, laden like beasts of burden and hitched to the wagon, were coming on behind.

      On the front seat of the wagon was a tall, gaunt spinster, an old man and a boy. Miss Patricia Lord was driving.

      Inside the wagon, surrounded by bundles and boxes of varying sizes, were two girls, Sally Ashton and Vera Lagerloff.

      As the wagon drew near, Miss Patricia Lord stood up and began waving a long stick.

      “Polly Burton, why are you and the Camp Fire girls not already on the road toward Paris? Perhaps you have not heard the Germans are breaking through at different points all along the Allied line! I will give you just five minutes to be ready to go on with us!”

      CHAPTER IV

      The Road to Paris

      With so extraordinary a combination of vehicles the journey of the Camp Fire girls and their guardians to Paris became necessarily a slow and frequently interrupted one.

      In contrast with a recently built American motor car, Miss Patricia’s present equipage suggested nothing more modern than Noah and his admirable Ark.

      Yet the two groups of friends and refugees wished to keep within reasonable distance of each other. They both appreciated that if ever they were separated for any distance, they might never be able to make connections again.

      The roads were becoming constantly more crowded with an increasing stream of vehicles and travelers afoot, yet among them all no equipage was so remarkable as Miss Patricia’s, or excited more interest.

      Upon leaving the Château Yvonne, a quarter of an hour after Miss Patricia’s belated arrival, there had been opportunity for only a hastily arranged program.

      At that time the plan had been for Mary Gilchrist, following Yvonne Fleury’s instructions, to drive straight ahead. At any point in the road, where a change of direction should be made, or any special instruction given, Mary was to draw her car aside out of the way of the other vehicles, there to await Miss Patricia’s slower approach.

      The program possessed a good many obvious weaknesses and yet in the few moments at their disposal before their departure, no one of the Camp Fire party had a better plan to suggest.

      Rather surprisingly well it succeeded in the beginning.

      Even without the knowledge of Miss Patricia’s clumsy caravan in the background, Mary Gilchrist would