“It’s a shame!” exclaimed Wyn. “I am just as sorry for you as I can be. And I believe that your father is perfectly honest and that he never in his life intended to defraud anybody.”
It was that blessed tact that made Wynifred Mallory say that. It was the sure way to Polly Jarley’s heart; and Wyn’s words and way opened the door wide and Polly took her in.
“You–you blessed creature!” cried the boatman’s daughter. “I know you must have been ’specially sent to comfort me. I was so miserable.”
“Of course I was sent,” declared Wyn. She did not propose to tell her new acquaintance that she had observed her in Erad’s store and had looked for her all over Market Street.
“Such things are meant to be. If we trust to God we surely shall have release from our difficulties. That is just as sure as the day follows the night,” declared Wyn, with simple, straight-forward faith.
“And just see how it is proved in this case. You were in trouble, and sat here crying, and needed somebody to help you. And I came along perfectly willing and able to help you, and you are going to be helped.”
“I am helped!” declared Polly. “You just put the courage back into me. I didn’t know what to do – ”
“Do you know any better now?” demanded Wyn, quickly.
“We–ell, I – ”
“That doesn’t sound as though you had quite made up your mind,” said Wyn, with a little laugh.
“Never mind. I can stand even going back home with my hands empty, better than before I met you,” declared Polly, bravely.
“But you won’t go back home empty-handed.”
“Oh, Wyn! Can you get me work?”
“No, not here. Nor do I believe you ought to leave your father alone up there for so long. I expect he is not very well yet?”
“No. He is not,” admitted Polly.
“Then, you go home. That is the best place for you, anyway. But before you go you shall make such purchases as you may need – ”
Polly drew away from her along the seat, and her gray eyes grew brighter. “Oh, Miss Mallory!” she murmured. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” demanded Wyn.
“Don’t spoil it all.”
“Spoil what-all?” cried Wyn, in exasperation. “I’m not going to spoil anything. But you listen to me. This is sense.”
“I–I couldn’t take charity from you– a stranger.”
“I offer to lend you twenty dollars. You can pay it back when you choose.”
“Twenty dollars! You lend me twenty dollars?”
“Yes. I have quite some spending money given to me, and I have been saving nearly all of it for some time. So I can easily spare it.”
“But I don’t know when I can repay you.”
“I can tell you, then. You can pay me back this very summer.”
“This summer, miss?”
“Don’t call me ‘miss’!” cried Wyn, in greater exasperation. “I have told you my name is ‘Wyn’! And I mean exactly what I say. This is a perfectly straight business proposition,” and she laughed her full-throated laugh that made even Polly Jarley, in her trouble, smile.
“Then your business, Wyn Mallory, must be the saving of people from trouble–is that it? For there is no reason in what you say you will do–Oh, I can’t accept it. It would be charity!” cried Polly, again clasping Wyn’s hands.
“It is not charity,” said Wyn, firmly, opening her purse. “And I’ll quickly show you why it is not. You see, Polly Jolly–and I want you to smile at me and look as though you fitted that name. You see, I am captain of the Go-Ahead Club.”
“The Go-Ahead Club?”
“Yes. We are six girls. We each own canoes. And we are just crazy to spend next summer under canvas.”
“You are going camping?”
“That is our intention,” Wyn said, nodding.
“Oh, then! come up to Lake Honotonka,” cried Polly. “I can show you beautiful places to camp, and we can have lots of fun – ”
“That likewise is our intention,” broke in Wyn. “We have just decided to camp for the summer on the shore of the lake. Rather, our parents, guardians, and the cat, have finally agreed to our plans. We shall come up there the week after the Academy closes.”
“Now, we want you, Polly, to find us the very best camping place, to arrange everything for us, and don’t have it too far from your place, and from Meade’s Forge. I expect the Busters will camp on one of the islands. The Busters, you see, are our boy friends who are likewise going to the lake. They were there last year with Professor Skillings.”
“I remember them,” said Polly, wonderingly. “And you and your girl friends are coming?”
“Just the surest thing you know, Polly,” declared Wyn. “So you are going to take this twenty dollars,” and she suddenly thrust the bill into the other girl’s hand and closed her fingers over it. “Then, next summer, we shall let you pay it back in perfectly legitimate charges, for we’ll want you and your father to help us a good deal.
“Now, what say, Polly Jolly? Will you please let your face fit your name–as I have rechristened you? Smile, my dear–smile!”
“I could cry again, Wyn–you are so kind!” half sobbed the other girl.
“Now, you stop all that foolishness–a great, big girl like you!” exclaimed Wyn. “Turn off the sprinkler, as Dave Shepard says. Get right up now and go briskly about your buying. And write to me when you get home and write just as often as you can till we meet at the lake this summer.”
“You dear!” ejaculated Polly.
“You’re another. How will I address you–at the Forge?”
“Yes, and you must give me your address,” said the boatman’s daughter, eagerly.
Wyn did so. The two girls, such recent but already such warm friends, kissed each other and Polly Jarley went briskly away toward Market Street. Wyn stopped on the bench for several minutes and watched the girl from Lake Honotonka walk away, while a smile wreathed her lips and a warm light lingered in her brown eyes.
CHAPTER V
BESSIE LAVINE
Suddenly a gay voice hailed Wyn.
“Hi, Captain of the Go-Aheads! What are you doing, mooning here?”
“Why, Bess!” returned Wyn, turning to greet Bessie Lavine. “I didn’t see you coming along.”
“No; but I saw you, my noble captain.”
“Going shopping?”
“Aye, aye, Captain!” cried the other member of the Go-Ahead club. “But who was that I saw you with? Didn’t I see you talking to that girl who just crossed Benefit Street?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Who was she?”
“Polly Jarley. She is daughter of a boatman up at the lake. And wasn’t it fortunate that I met her? She can find us a camping place and get everything fixed up there for our coming.”
“What’s her name?” asked Bess, sharply.
“Polly Jarley.”
“And she lives up there by the lake?”
“So she says.”
“Her father is John Jarley, of course?” queried