The Outdoor Girls in Army Service; Or, Doing Their Bit for the Soldier Boys Read online

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  THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN ARMY SERVICE

  OR

  DOING THEIR BIT FOR THE SOLDIER BOYS

  BY

  LAURA LEE HOPE

  AUTHOR OF "THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE," "THE MOVING PICTUREGIRLS," "THE BOBBSEY TWINS," "BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE," ETC.

  1918

  THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN ARMY SERVICE

  CONTENTS

  I "I'VE VOLUNTEERED!" II GRIM SHADOWS OF WAR III NEWS FROM THE FRONT IV THE POWDER MILL V A SHOT IN THE DARK VI MOONLIGHT AND MYSTERY VII ROBBED VIII THE BIG GAME IX GAY CONSPIRATORS X MAGIC LANTERNS XI A SLACKER? XII HONOR FLAGS XIII "SMILE, GIRLS, SMILE" XIV THE SPY AGAIN XV MORE SURPRISES XVI THE HOSTESS HOUSE XVII HELPING UNCLE SAMXVIII THE EVENING GUN XIX FLAMES XX THE RESCUE XXI ALLEN A HERO XXII MAKING GOODXXIII JUST FRIENDS XXIV CAPTIVE AND CAPTORS XXV THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED

  CHAPTER I

  "I'VE VOLUNTEERED!"

  "Well, who is going to read the paper?"

  Amy Blackford stopped knitting for a moment, the half-finishedsweater suspended inquiringly in the air, while she asked herquestion and gazed about impatiently at her busy group of friends.

  "It's your turn, anyhow, Mollie," she added, fingers flying and headbent as she resumed her work. "You haven't read to us for five days."

  "Oh, don't bother me," snapped the one addressed as Mollie. She wasblack-haired and black-eyed, was Mollie Billette, with a little touchof French blood in her veins that accounted for her restless vivacityand sometimes peppery temper. "You've made me drop a stitch, AmyBlackford, and if anybody else speaks to me for the next fiveminutes, I'll eat 'em."

  "Well, as long as you don't eat any more of my chocolates, I don'tcare," remarked Grace Ford, lazily helping herself to one of thethreatened candies. "I had a full box this morning, and now look atthem."

  "Haven't time to look at anything," returned Mollie crossly, fishingin vain for the lost stitch. "If the poor soldiers depended upon thesweaters you made, Grace, I'd feel sorry for them, I would indeed!"

  "Oh, dear, girls, now what's the matter?"

  Framed in the doorway of the cottage stood Betty Nelson, their adored"Little Captain," fresh and sweet as the morning itself, smilingaround at them inquiringly.

  "What is the matter?" she repeated as they moved up to make room forher on the veranda steps. "I'm more afraid than ever to leave youalone these days when every dropped stitch means a quarrel. Give itto me, Mollie, I'll pick it up for you."

  With a sigh, Mollie relinquished the tiresome sweater and Betty wentto work at it with a skill born of long practice.

  "There you are," she announced triumphantly, after an interval duringwhich the girls had watched with eager eyes and bated breath. "Thatwas a mean one. Thought it was going to make me rip out the wholerow--but I showed it! Now, please, don't anybody drop any more. Imust finish that pair of socks to-day."

  "Oh, dear," sighed Amy resignedly. "Then our last hope is gone."

  "Goodness, that sounds doleful," chuckled Betty, stretching her armsabove her head and reveling in the brilliant sunshine. "Whatparticular thing seems to be the matter now, Amy? Has Will beenmisbehaving?"

  Amy flushed vividly and bent closer over her work.

  "How could he be when he's been in town for over a week?" sheretorted with unusual spirit. "It's just that nobody will read thepaper, and I'm just dying to hear the news. I want to keep up withthe times."

  "Well, if that's all," said the Little Captain, sitting up withalacrity, "I'm always willing to oblige. Mollie, you're sitting onit!"

  "Knit one, purl two," chanted Mollie. "Wait till I get this needleoff and I'll give it to you. I can't stop now!"

  "All right, then I'm going to get my knitting."

  Betty made as though to rise but Amy held her down and turneddespairingly to Mollie.

  "Mollie," she pleaded, "be reasonable. You know very well that ifBetty ever gets started with her knitting then nobody'll read thenews."

  "Knit one, purl two, knit one, purl two," sang Mollie imperturbably."There, now, isn't that beautiful?"

  She sprang from the seat and whirled around upon them, holding up thealmost-finished sweater for their inspection.

  "Isn't it beautiful?" she repeated enthusiastically.

  "Of course," said Grace, dryly, while Betty deftly grabbed the paper."It's the most beautiful and most curious thing I ever laid eyes on.It isn't as though," she added, with biting sarcasm, "I had seenhundreds just like it within the last month or two--"

  "Oh, you can't make me mad," said Mollie, settling down with energyto the final finishing. "You're just jealous, that's all, and themore you turn up your nose, the more you show your real feelings."

  "Oh, is that so?" retorted Grace, reaching out for the candy box forthe twentieth time that morning. "Well, as my kind of nose has never,under any circumstances whatsoever, been known to turn up--"

  "Oh, do stop chattering," Mollie interrupted heartlessly. "Who careswhat kind of noses we've got? Go ahead, Betty, you'd better getstarted before Grace gets to quarreling on the subject of eyelashesor something."

  "I never quarreled with my eyelashes," said Grace haughtily. "I leavethat to other people."

  "My, isn't she conceited!" chuckled Betty. "Now I'm going to read,"she added, letting her eyes rest upon the glaring headlines of thefirst page. "If you want to listen, all right; and if you want totalk about sweaters and eyelashes--"

  "Oh, Betty, do go on," sighed Amy. "We've been waiting so long."

  "All right," said Betty obligingly; then, as the full sense of whatshe read was borne in upon her, her face clouded and she bit her lipand shook her head.

  "Girls," she began, and something in her tone made them drop theirknitting for a moment and gather anxiously about her. "Those,those--Germans--"

  "Huns, you mean," interrupted Mollie fiercely, as she read over theLittle Captain's shoulder.

  "Have sunk another of our ships," said Betty, her lips set in astraight line. "And--and they think the loss will be heavy. Oh,girls, I can't read it--it's too horrible!"

  She flung down the paper, but Mollie snatched it almost before itreached the step. Then with eyebrows drawn together, and twin spotsof red flaming in either cheek, she read the account of the disasterfrom beginning to end.

  "There," she said at last, flinging down the paper and glaring abouther as though the girls themselves were at fault. "Now you see whatwe're knitting sweaters for, and--and--everything! Oh, if I couldjust put on a uniform, and take up a gun and--and--go afterthose--those awful Huns!"

  "Goodness, if you looked like that," commented Grace, "you wouldn'thave to fire a shot. They'd all drop dead just from fright."

  "So much the better," said Mollie, beginning to knit againferociously. "It would be a shame to waste good ammunition on them."

  "I wonder," said Betty thoughtfully, her eyes on the far-off horizon,"what the boys are going to do. They've seemed so mysterious lately,and the minute you begin to question them about enlisting, theychange the subject."

  "Yes, and it's made me desperate," cried Mollie, the tempestuous,flinging down the unfortunate sweater once more. "I know what I'd doif I were a man, and Betty and all the rest of us girls! But eitherthey didn't know or they wouldn't tell. Do you suppose--"

  "They've decided to wait for the draft?" finished Grace, settling hercushions more comfortably. "That's a funny thing to say, Mollie--aboutour boys."

 
"I know," said Mollie, knitting more furiously than ever. "But justthe same, I can't understand why they have been so terribly secretiveabout it."

  "I guess we needn't worry about that," said Betty, although there wasa little worried line between her brows that belied her words. "Allenwouldn't--" here she stammered, stopped and flushed, while the girlsturned laughing eyes upon her.

  "Of course," she added hastily, "I mean that none of the boys wouldhesitate, when it's a question of serving his country."

  "That's all right, but you said Allen," teased Mollie, unconvinced."And oh, Betty, how you blushed!"

  "Nonsense!" returned Betty, blushing more than ever. "It's justsunburn, that's all. Now do you want me to read the rest of the news,or don't you? Because I have to finish those socks--"

  "Yes, yes, go on," cried Amy. "We won't say another word, Betty."Which was funny, coming from quiet Amy, who usually spoke one word tothe other girls' ten.

  So Betty read the news from one end of the paper to the other, untileven those insatiable young people were content, then ran into thecottage to get her knitting.

  "Now," she said, returning and seating herself with businesslikealertness on the very edge of the step, "you'll see some real speed."

  "Oh, Betty, have you come to the heel?" cried Mollie, running over tothe Little Captain, and regarding the flying needles with a sort ofawe. "Please show me how. They say the Red Cross needs socks for theboys more than they need anything else. And I know I'll never learnto do them."

  "Oh, it's easy," returned Betty, obligingly slowing down for theirbenefit, while they gathered about her, eager and bright-eyed, forthe lesson.

  They formed a pretty picture, this group of outdoor girls, with themorning sunlight falling upon graceful figures and bent heads, ardentlittle patriots, every one of them, whole-heartedly eager to givetheir all for the service of their country.

  They were still engrossed in watching Betty's nimble fingers, whenthe shrill and familiar whistle of the little ferryboat caught theirattention.

  "Oh, I didn't know it was time," Amy was beginning, when Mollieinterrupted her.

  "It's stopping here," she cried. "And somebody's getting off."

  "It's the boys!" cried Betty, springing to her feet, the bright coloragain flooding her face. "They never told us they'd be back to-day.There's Allen. Oh, tell me, what is it he is shouting?"

  The little ferryboat had steamed away, and four figures were racingtoward them.

  "Betty," yelled the foremost of these. "I've volunteered--I'vevolunteered!"