The Camp Fire Girls at School; Or, The Wohelo Weavers Page 9

  CHAPTER IX.

  THE THESSALONIAN PLAY.

  It was the custom each year for the Thessalonians, the Boys' LiterarySociety of Washington High School, to give a play in the schoolauditorium. This year the play was to be a translation of Briand'sfour-act drama, "Marie Latour." After a careful consideration of thetalents of their various girl friends, Gladys was asked to play theleading role and Sahwah was also given a part in the cast. It was theplay where the unfortunate Marie Latour, pursued by enemies, hides herchild in a hollow statue of Joan of Arc. In order to produce the piece alarge statue of the Maid of Orleans was made to order. It wasconstructed of some inexpensive composition and painted to look likebronze. In the one scene a halo appears around the head of the Maidwhile she is sheltering the child. This effect was produced by a circleof tiny lights worked by a storage battery inside the statue. For thesake of convenience in installing the electric apparatus and the wiring,one half of the skirt--it was the statue representing Joan in woman'sclothes, not the one in armor--was made in the form of a door, whichopened on hinges. The base of the statue was of wood. It was notfinished until the day before the play and was used for the first timeat the dress rehearsal, when it was left standing on the stage.

  Joe Lanning was in rather a dark mood these days. In the first place, hehad lost his winter's allowance of pocket money by staking it on theWashington-Carnegie Mechanics game. After this he was treated coolly bya large number of his classmates, and, not knowing that the story of histreachery was being privately circulated around the school, he could notguess the reason. The keenest desire of his life was to be made a memberof the Thessalonian Literary Society, and if he had kept his recordunsmirched he would have been taken in at the February election. Heconfidently expected to be elected, and was already planning in his mindthe things he would do and say at the meetings, and what girls he wouldtake to the Thessalonian dances. He received a rude shock when theelection came and went and he was not taken in. He knew from reliablesources that his name was coming up to be voted on, and it was not veryflattering to realize that he had been blackballed. From an eagerinterest in all Thessalonian doings his feeling changed to bitterresentment against the society. Just now the Thessalonian play was thetopic of the hour, and the very mention of it almost made him ill. If hehad been elected he would have been an usher at the play with the othernew members and worn the club colors in his buttonhole to be admired bythe girls and envied by the other fellows. But now there was none ofthat charmed fellowship for him. He nourished his feeling of bitternessand hatred until his scheming mind began to grope for some way ofspoiling the success of the play. As usual, he turned to his friend,Abraham Goldstein, who was about the only one who had not shown anycoolness. Together they watched their chance. The play progressed towardperfection, the dress rehearsal had been held, the day of the "FirstNight" had arrived. The stage was set and the statue of the Maid ofOrleans was in place. Joe, poking around the back of the stage, saw thestatue and received his evil inspiration.

  Just about the time the play was given there was being held in theschool an exhibition of water-color paintings. A famous and veryvaluable collection had been loaned by a friend of the school for thebenefit of the students of drawing. The paintings were on display in oneof the girls' club rooms on the fourth floor of the building. Hinpohatook great pleasure in examining them and spent a long time over themevery day after school was closed. On the day of the play she went up asusual to the club room for an hour before going home. Reluctantly shetore herself away when she realized that the afternoon was passing. Asshe returned to the cloakroom where her wraps were she was surprised tofind Emily Meeks there. Emily started guiltily when Hinpoha entered andmade a desperate effort to finish wrapping up something she had in herhand. But her nervousness got into her fingers and made them tremble sothat the object she held fell to the floor. As it fell the wrapper cameopen and Hinpoha could see what it was. It was one of the water colorsof the exhibition collection, one of the smallest and most exquisiteones. Hinpoha gasped with astonishment when she caught Emily in the actof stealing it. Emily Meeks was the last person in the world Hinpohawould ever have accused of stealing anything.

  Emily turned white and red by turns and leaned against the walltrembling. "Yes, I stole it," she said in a kind of desperation.

  Something in her voice took the scorn out of Hinpoha's face. She lookedat her curiously. "Why did you try to steal, Emily?" she asked gently.

  Emily burst into tears and sank to her knees. "You wouldn't understand,"she sobbed.

  "Maybe I would," said Hinpoha softly, "try it and see."

  Haltingly Emily told her tale. In a moment's folly she had promised tobuy a set of books from an agent and had signed a paper pledging herselfto pay for it within three months. The price was five dollars. At thetime she thought she could save enough out of her meager wages to payit, but found that she could not. The time was up several months ago andthe agent was threatening her with a lawsuit if she did not pay up thismonth. Fearing that the people with whom she lived would be angry ifthey heard of the affair and would turn her out of her home into thestreets--for to her a lawsuit was something vague and terrible and shethought she would have to go to jail when it was found she could notpay--she grew desperate, and being alone in the room with the paintingsfor an instant she had seized the opportunity and carried one out underher middy blouse. She intended to sell it and pay for the books.

  Hinpoha's eyes filled with tears at Emily's distress. She was verytender hearted and was easily touched by other people's troubles. "If Ilent you five dollars to pay for the books, would you take it?" sheasked.

  Emily started up like a condemned prisoner who is pardoned on the way toexecution. "I'll pay it back," she cried, "if I have to go out scrubbingto earn the money. And you won't say anything about the picture," shesaid, clasping her hands beseechingly, "if I put it back where I gotit?"

  "No," said Hinpoha, with all the conviction of her loyal young nature,"I give you my word of honor that I will never say anything about it."

  "Oh, you're an angel straight from heaven," exclaimed Emily.

  "First time I've heard of a red-headed angel," laughed Hinpoha.

  Emily stooped to pick up the painting and restore it to its place, whenshe caught her breath in dismay. She had dropped a tear on the pictureand made a light spot on the dark brown trunk of a tree. It wasconspicuously noticeable, and would be sure to call forth the strictestinquiry. Emily covered her face with her hands. "It's my punishment,"she groaned, "for trying to steal. Now I've ruined the honor of theschool. We promised to send those pictures back unharmed if Mr. Whitewould let us have them." Her dismay was intense.

  Hinpoha examined the spot carefully. "Do you know," she said, "I believeI could fill in that place with dark color so it would never be noticed?The bark of the tree has a rough appearance and the slight unevennessaround the edges of the spot will never be noticed. Don't worry, allwill yet be well." If Hinpoha would have let her, Emily would have gonedown on her knees to her. "Come, we must make haste," said Hinpoha. "Yougo right home and I will take the picture into our club room and fix itup and then slip upstairs with it and nobody will ever be any the wiser.It's a good thing there's nobody up there now."

  Emily took her departure, vowing undying gratitude to Hinpoha, andHinpoha took her paints from her desk and went into her own club room,which was on the third floor, and with infinite pains matched the shadeof the tree trunk and repaired the damage. Her efforts were crowned withbetter success even than she had hoped for, and with thankfulness in herheart at the talent which could thus be turned to account to help afriend out of trouble, she surveyed the little painting, looking just asit did when loaned to the school. She carried it carefully upstairs, butat the door of the exhibition room she paused in dismay. A whole groupof teachers and their friends were looking at the paintings and it wasimpossible to put the one back without being noticed. Irresolutely sheturned away and retraced her steps to the third floor, intendi
ng to waitin her club room until the coast was clear. But alas! In coming outHinpoha had left the door open. The club rooms were generally keptlocked. While she was going upstairs a number of students coming outfrom late practice in the gymnasium spied the open door and went in tolook around. It was impossible for Hinpoha to go in there with thatpicture in her hand. The only thing to do if she did not wish to getinto trouble, was to get rid of it immediately. Delay was gettingdangerous. She was standing near the back entrance of the stage when shewas looking for a place to hide the picture. Beside the stage entrancethere was a little room containing all the lighting switches for thestage, various battery boxes and other electrical equipment, togetherwith a motley collection of stage properties. Quick as a flash Hinpohaopened the door of this room, darted in and hid the picture in a roll ofcheesecloth. When she came out one of the teachers was standing directlybefore the door, pointing out to a friend the construction of the stage.

  "Have we a new electrician?" he inquired genially, as he saw her comingout of the electric room. Hinpoha laughed at his pleasantry, but she wasflushed and uncomfortable from the excitement of the last moment.Hinpoha was a poor dissembler. She went upstairs until the art room wasempty of visitors and then returned swiftly to the electric room for thepicture. She slipped it under her middy blouse, where it was safe fromdetection, and sped upstairs with it. As she crossed the hall to thestairs she met the same teacher the second time. "Well, you must be anelectrician," he said; "that's twice you've rushed out of there in sucha businesslike manner," Hinpoha laughed, but flushed painfully. Itseemed to her that his eyes could look right through her middy and seethe picture underneath. This time the coast was clear in the room wherethe pictures were and she deposited the adventurous water color safely.She heaved a great sigh of relief when she realized that the danger wasover and she had nothing more to conceal. She trudged home through thesnow light-heartedly, with a warm feeling that she had been the means ofsaving a friend from disgrace.

  Sahwah, who was in the play and had a right to go up on the stage, whichwas all ready set for the first scene, ran in to see how things lookedlate in the afternoon. The school was practically empty. All the rest ofthe cast had gone home to get some sleep to fit them for the ordeal ofthe coming performance, and the teachers who had been looking at thepaintings had also left. The rest of the building was in darkness, astwilight had already fallen. One set of lights was burning on the stage.Sahwah had no special business on the stage, she was simply curious tosee what it looked like. Sahwah never stopped to analyze her motives fordoing things. She paused to admire the statue of Joan of Arc, standingin all the majesty of its nine-foot height. This was the first chanceshe had had to examine it leisurely. In the rehearsal the night beforeshe had merely seen it in a general way as she whisked off and on thestage in her part.

  The construction of the thing fascinated her, and she opened the door inthe skirt to satisfy her curiosity about the inner workings of themiraculous halo. She saw how the thing was done and then becameinterested in the inside of the statue itself. There was plenty of roomin it to conceal a person. Just for the fun of the thing Sahwah gotinside and drew the door shut after her, trying to imagine herself afugitive hiding in there. There were no openings in the skirt part, butup above the waist line there were various holes to admit air. "It's nofun hiding in a statue if you can't see what's going on outside,"thought Sahwah, and so she stood up straight, as in this position hereyes would come on a level with one of the holes. She could see outwithout being seen herself, just as if she were looking through the facepiece of a suit of armor. The fun she got out of this sport, however,soon changed to dismay when she tried to get down again. It had takensome squeezing to get her head into the upper space, and now she foundthat she was wedged securely in. She could not move her head oneparticle. What was worse, a quantity of cotton wool, which had been putinside the upper part of the body for some reason or other, wasdislodged by her squeezing in and pressed against her mouth, forming aneffective silencer. Thus, while she could see out over the stage, shecould not call out for help. Her hands were pinioned down at her sides,and by standing up she had brought her knees into a narrow place so thatthey were wedged together and she could not attract attention bykicking. Here was a pretty state of affairs. The benign Maid of Orleanshad Sahwah in as merciless a grip as that with which the famous IronMaiden of medieval times crushed out the lives of its victims.

  Sahwah knew that her failure to come from school would call out asearch, but who would ever look for her in the statue on the stage? Heronly hope was to wait until the play was in progress and the door wasopened to conceal the child. Then another thought startled her into aperspiration. She was in the opening scene of the play. If she was notthere, the play could not commence. They would spend the eveningsearching for her and the statue would not be opened. What would they doabout the play? The house was sold out and the people would come to seethe performance and there would be none. All on account of her stupidityin wedging herself inside of the statue. Sahwah called herself severenames as she languished in her prison. Fortunately there were enoughholes in the thing to supply plenty of ventilation, otherwise it mighthave gone hard with her. The cramped position became exceedinglytiresome. She tried, by forcing her weight against the one side or theother, to throw the statue over, thinking that it would attractattention in this way and some one would be likely to open it, but theheavy wooden base to which it was fastened held it secure. Sahwah wascaught like a rat in a trap. The minutes passed like hours. Sounds diedaway in the building, as the last of the lingerers on the downstairsfloor took themselves off through the front entrance. She could hear theslam of the heavy door and then a shout as one boy hailed another ingreeting. Then silence over everything.

  A quarter, or maybe a half, hour dragged by on leaden feet. Suddenly,without noise or warning, two figures appeared on the stage, coming onthrough the back entrance. Sahwah's heart beat joyfully. Here was someone to look over the scenery again and if she could only attract theirattention they would liberate her. She made a desperate effort andwrenched her mouth open to call, only to get it full of fuzzy cottonwool that nearly choked her. There was no hope then, but that they wouldopen the door of the statue and find her accidentally. She could hearthe sound of talking in low voices. The boys were on the other side ofthe statue, where she could not see them.

  "Let it down easy," she heard one of them say.

  "Better get around on the other side," said a second voice.

  The boy thus spoken to moved around until he was directly before theopening in front of Sahwah's eyes. With a start she recognized JoeLanning. What business had Joe Lanning on the stage at this time? He wasnot in the play and he did not belong to the Thessalonian Society. Therewas only one explanation--Joe was up to some mischief again. She had notthe slightest doubt that the other voice belonged to Abraham Goldstein,and thus indeed it proved, for a moment later he moved around so as tocome into range of her vision. The two withdrew a few paces and lookedat the statue, holding a hasty colloquy in inaudible tones, and thenJoe, mounting a chair, laid hold of the Maid just above the waist line,while Abraham seized the wooden base. Sahwah felt her head going downand her feet going up. The boys were carrying the statue off the stageand out through the back entrance, over the little bridge at the back ofthe stage and into the hall. It was the queerest ride Sahwah had evertaken.

  The boys paused before the elevator, which seemed to be standing readywith the door open. "Will she go in?" asked Abraham.

  "I'm afraid not," answered Joe. "Well have to carry her downstairs."Sahwah shuddered. Would she go down head first or feet first? Theycarried her head first and she was dizzy with the rush of blood to herhead before the two long flights were accomplished. At the foot of thelast flight they laid the statue down. The hall was in total darkness.

  "What are you doing?" asked the voice of Joe. Abraham was apparentlyproducing something from somewhere. In a minute Joe was laughing. "Goodstunt," he said approvingly. "W
here did you get them?"

  "Swiped them out of Room 22, where all the stuff for the play is." Joeflashed a small pocket electric light and by its glimmer Sahwah couldsee him adjusting a false beard--the one that was to be worn by thevillain in the play. Abraham was apparently disguising himself in asimilar fashion. This accomplished they picked up the statue again andcarried it down the half flight of stairs to the back entrance of theschool. For some mysterious reason this door was open. Just outsidestood an automobile truck. At the back of the school lay the wideathletic field, extending for several acres. The nearest street was allof four blocks away. In the darkness it was impossible to see acrossthis stretch of space and distinguish the actions of the twoconspirators in the event people should be passing along this street.Even if the truck itself were seen that would cause no comment, fordeliveries were constantly being made at the rear entrance of theschool.

  The statue was lifted into the truck, covered with a piece of canvas,and Joe and Abraham sprang to the driver's seat and started the machine.Sahwah very nearly suffocated under that canvas. Fortunately the ridewas a short one. In about seven or eight minutes she felt the bump asthey turned into a driveway, and then the truck came to a stop. The boysjumped down from the seat, opened a door which slid back with a scrapingnoise like a barn door and then lifted the statue from the truck andcarried it into a building. From the light of their pocket flashesSahwah could make out that she was in a barn, which was evidentlyunused. It was entirely empty. Setting the statue in a corner, the boyswent out, closing the door after them. Sahwah was left in totaldarkness, and in a ten times worse position than she had been in before.On the stage at school there was some hope of the statue's being openedeventually, but here she could remain for weeks before being discovered.Sahwah began to wonder just how long she could hold out before shestarved. She was hungry already.

  She closed her eyes with weariness from her strained position, and it ispossible that she dozed off for a few moments. In fact, that was whatshe did do. She dreamed that she was at the circus and all the wildanimals had broken loose and were running about the audience. She couldhear the roar of the lions and the screeching of the tigers. She woke upwith a start and thought for a moment that her dream was true. The barnwas full of wild animals which were roaring and chasing each otheraround. Then her senses cleared and she recognized the heavy bark of alarge dog and the startled mi-ou of a cat. The dog was chasing the cataround the barn. She felt the slight thud as the cat leaped up and foundrefuge on top of the statue. She could hear it spitting at the dog andknew that its back was arched in an attitude of defiance. The dog barkedfuriously down below. Then, overcome by rage, he made a wild jump forthe cat and lunged his heavy body against the side of the statue. Ittoppled over against the corner. For an instant Sahwah thought she wasgoing to be killed. But the corner of the barn saved the statue fromfalling over altogether. It simply leaned back at a slight angle. Butthere was something different in her position now. At first she did notknow what it was. Before this her feet were standing squarely on thewooden base of the statue, but now they were slipping around and seemedto be dangling. Then she realized what had happened. The shock of thedog's onslaught had knocked the statue clear off the base, and had alsocontrived to loosen her knees a little. To her joy she found that shecould move her feet--could walk. For all the statue was immense, it waslight, and wedged into it as she was she balanced the upper part of itperfectly. She moved out from the corner.

  The dog was still barking furiously and circling around the barn afterthe cat. Then the cat found a paneless window by which she had enteredand disappeared into the night. The dog, who had also entered by thatwindow when chasing the cat, had been helped on the outside by a boxwhich stood under the sill, but there was no such aid on the inside andhe did not attempt to make the jump from the floor, but stood barkinguntil the place shook. Just then a voice was heard on the outside."Lion, Lion," it called, "where are you?" Lion barked in answer. "Comeout of that barn," commanded the voice of a small boy. Lion answeredagain in the only way he knew how. "Wait a minute, Lion, I'm coming,"said the small boy. Sahwah heard some one fumbling at the door and thenit was drawn open. The light from a street lamp streamed in. It felldirectly on the statue as Sahwah took another step forward. The boy sawthe apparition and fled in terror, followed by the dog, leaving the doorwide open. Sahwah hastened to the door. Here she encountered adifficulty. The statue was nine feet high and the door was only abouteight. Naturally the statue could not bend. It had been carried in in ahorizontal position. Sahwah reflected a moment. Her powers ofobservation were remarkably good and she could sense things that went onaround her without having to see them. She had noticed that when theboys carried the statue into the barn they had had to climb up into thedoorway. The inclined entrance approach had undoubtedly rotted away. Shefigured that this step up had been a foot at least. Her ingenious mindtold her that by standing close to the edge of the doorway and jumpingdown she would come clear of the doorway. She put this theory to trialimmediately. The scheme worked. She landed on her feet on thesnow-covered ground, with the top of the statue free in the air.

  As fast as she could she made her way up the driveway. Her hands werestill pinioned at her sides. As she passed the house in front of thebarn she could see by the street light that it was empty. A grand schemeit would have been indeed, if it had worked, hiding the statue in theunused barn where it would not have been discovered for weeks, orpossibly months. Of course, Sahwah readily admitted, Joe did not knowthat she was in the statue; his object had merely been to spoil theplay. And a very effective method he had taken, too, for the playwithout the statue of Joan of Arc would have been nothing.

  Sahwah stood still on the street and tried to get her bearings. She wasin an unfamiliar neighborhood. She walked up the street. Coming towardher was a man. Sahwah breathed a sigh of relief. Without a doubt hewould see the trouble she was in and free her. Now Sahwah did not knowit, but in the scramble with the dog the button had been pushed whichworked the halo. The neighborhood she was in was largely inhabited byforeigners, and the man coming toward her was a Hungarian who had notbeen long in this country. Taking his way homeward with never a thoughtin his mind but his dinner, he suddenly looked up to see the giganticfigure of a woman bearing down on him, brandishing a gleaming sword andwith a dim halo playing around her head. For an instant he stood rootedto the spot, and then with a wild yell he ran across the street, dartedbetween two houses and disappeared over the back fence. Then began aseries of encounters which threw Sahwah into hysterics twenty yearslater when she happened to remember them. Intent only on her ownliberation she was at the time unconscious of the terrifying figure shepresented, and hastened along at the top of her speed. Everywhere thepeople fled before her in the extremity of terror. On all sides shecould hear shrieks of "War!" "War!" "It is a sign of war!"

  In one street through which she passed lived a simple Slovak priest. Hewas sorely torn over the sad conflict raging in Europe and was undecidedwhether he should preach a sermon advocating peace at all costs orpreparation for fighting. He debated the question back and forth in hismind, and, unable to come to any decision in the narrow confines of hislittle house, walked up and down on the cold porch seeking for light inthe matter. "Oh, for a sign from heaven," he sighed, "such as came tothe saints of old to solve their troublesome questions!" Scarcely hadthe wish passed through his mind when a vision appeared. Down the darkstreet came rushing the heroic image of Joan of Arc, with sworduplifted, her head shining with the refulgence of the halo. At his gateshe paused and stood a long time looking at him. Sahwah thought that hewould come down and help her out. Instead he fell on his knees on theporch and bowed his head, crying out something in a foreign tongue.Seeing that expectation of help from that quarter was useless, Sahwahran on and turned a nearby corner. When the priest lifted his head againthe vision was gone. "It is to be war, then," he muttered. "I have adivine command to bid my people take up arms in battle." This was theorigin of the military d
emonstration which took place in the Slovaksettlement the following Sunday, which ended in such serious rioting.

  Sahwah, running onward, suddenly found herself in the very middle of theroad where two carlines crossed each other. This was a very congestedcorner and a policeman was stationed there to direct the traffic. Thispoliceman, however, on this cold February day, found Mike McCarty'ssaloon on the corner a much pleasanter place than the middle of theroad, and paid one visit after another, while the traffic directeditself. This last time he had stayed inside much longer than he hadintended to, having become involved in an argument with the proprietorof the place, and coming to himself with a guilty start he hurried outto resume his duties. On the sidewalk he stood as if paralyzed. In themiddle of the road, in his place, stood an enormously tall woman,directing the traffic with a gleaming sword. "Mother av Hiven," hemuttered superstitiously, "it's one of the saints come down to lookafter the job I jumped, and waiting to strike me dead when I come back."He turned on his heel and fled up the street without once looking overhis shoulder.

  And thus Sahwah went from place to place, vainly looking for some onewho would pull her out of the statue, and leaving everywhere she went atrail of superstitious terror, such as had never been known in theannals of the city. For a week the papers were full of the mysteriousappearance of the armed woman, which was taken as a presumptive auguryof war. Many affirmed that she had stopped them on the street andcommanded them in tones of thunder to take up arms to save the countryfrom destruction, and promising to lead them to victory when the timefor battle came. Many of the foreigners believed to their dying day thatthey had seen a vision from heaven. Sahwah at last got her bearings andfound that she was not a great distance from the school, so she took herway thither where she might encounter some one who was connected withthe play and knew of the existence of the statue, a secret which wasbeing closely guarded from the public, that the effect might be greater.

  She nearly wept with joy when she saw Dick Albright just about to enterthe building. Although he was startled almost out of a year's growth atthe sight of the statue, which he supposed to be standing on the stagein the building, running up the front steps after him, he did notdisappear into space as had all of the others she had met. After thefirst fright he suspected some practical joke and stood still to seewhat would happen next. Sahwah knew that the only thing visible of herwas her feet and that she could not explain matters with her voice, so,coming close to Dick, she stretched out her foot as far as possible. NowSahwah, with her riotous love of color, had bright red buttons on herblack shoes, the only set like them in the school. Dick recognized thebuttons and knew that it was Sahwah in the statue. He still thought shewas playing a joke, and laughed uproariously. Sahwah grew desperate. Shemust make him understand that she wanted him to pull her out. The broadstone terrace before the door was covered with a light fall of snow.With the point of her toe she traced in the snow the words

  "PULL ME OUT."

  Dick now took in the situation. He opened the door of the statue andwith some difficulty succeeded in extricating Sahwah from her precariousposition. Together they carried the much-traveled Maid into the buildingand up the stairs and set her in place on the stage. She had just beenmissed by the arriving players and the place was in an uproar. Sahwahtold what had happened that afternoon and the adventures she had had ingetting back to the school, while her listeners exclaimed incredulously.There was no longer time to go home for supper so Sahwah ran off to thegreen room to begin making up for her part in the play.