you to offer to let us come here and hold our meetings, and if you’ll still keep the offer open after you have investigated us to your satisfaction we’ll be mighty grateful and will promise not to bother you upstairs.”

The boy’s face was so open and manly that it was impossible not to believe in him then and there. Nyoda smiled into his earnest face. “All right, Captain,” she said, “we’ll agree to put you on probation, and if you stand the test we’ll consider the matter of sharing the Open Door Lodge.”

The Captain smiled back at her and held out his hand. “You’re a peach and I like you,” he said emphatically, and the two were sworn friends from that moment on.

CHAPTER II
VERONICA

At four o’clock one afternoon some few days later Hinpoha and Sahwah, breathless from hurrying, ran up the steps of the house where Nyoda lived and rang the bell. The other Winnebagos were already assembled when they entered, and Nyoda was not there.

“Where’s Nyoda?” demanded Sahwah.

“Sh, she’s gone over to get—her,” answered Gladys, smoothing out the folds of her pretty new pleated dress with one hand and tucking in a stray lock with the other.

“What did you say ‘sh’ for?” demanded Sahwah curiously. “There’s no one sleeping, is there?”

“I don’t know why I said it,” answered Gladys, rumpling up the hair she had just tidied, “I’m so excited about meeting Veronica that I don’t know what I’m doing. I just can’t sit still.” And she jumped up from her chair and began to pace nervously up and down the room.

“Doesn’t it remind you of the time we stood on the dock at Loon Lake and waited for Gladys to make her first appearance?” said Hinpoha to Sahwah. “Don’t you remember how we wondered what she would be like and you and Migwah nearly fought over whose affinity she was going to be?”

“Did you really, girls?” said Gladys, pausing in her walk. “And was I as nice as you hoped I’d be?”

Footsteps on the porch saved Hinpoha from having to reply and Gladys hurried to her chair and seated herself properly. A moment later Nyoda entered the room with a young girl beside her whom she led into the center of the group.

“Girls,” she said, with one hand on the stranger’s shoulder, “this is our new member, Veronica Lehar.”

All eyes centered on the newcomer. She was a small, slender girl with short curly black hair, olive complexion, bright red lips and a straight, finely modeled nose. She wore a dark red velvet dress which suited her complexion wonderfully, and fell in soft folds about her lithe form. She was as straight as an arrow and as graceful as a deer. From the crown of her finely poised head to her little fur-topped boots she was an aristocrat. The simple Winnebagos were abashed before her. Never had they met such a high-born little lady. There was an air about her which they could never acquire if they lived a hundred years. They felt like peasants in the presence of a queen. But they forgot her aristocratic air when they looked into her eyes. Large and dark and velvety as a pansy, but so sad it almost broke your heart to look into them. All the sympathy which the girls had worked up for her since hearing her story came back in a rush and they surrounded her with cordial greetings and expressions of welcome. Veronica held her violin, which she had brought over with her, under one arm while she shook hands politely with all the girls. She answered all their pretty speeches in a friendly manner, but she never once smiled, and her eyes had a look as if her thoughts were not there in the room at all, but back in the far country across the ocean. Although she had an accent she spoke a beautiful English, in fact, she used far better language than the majority of American schoolgirls, and more than once the girls felt embarrassed when they had forgotten themselves so far as to utter a slang phrase.

Conversation soon languished, for Veronica did not seem inclined to talk, so Nyoda started the girls singing camp songs to amuse her, and led the talk around to the Winnebagos’ doings which she was now to take part in. Of course the new lodge was the main topic of conversation with the Winnebagos and they waxed so enthusiastic over its splendors that Veronica exclaimed with some show of warmth, “Oh, I must see it soon!” Then she added, “Tell me what I must do to become a Camp Fire Girl like yourselves.”

“You must have a symbolic name,” answered Gladys eagerly, anxious to be the one to explain things to Veronica, “and a Ceremonial dress, and learn the songs, and know the Camp Fire Girls’ Desire, and the Winnebago passwords and oh, lots of delightful things.”

“What are they, the Winnebago passwords, and what are they for?” asked Veronica.

“Well,” answered Gladys, “you know what a password is, don’t you? Well, we have passwords to admit us into the Lodge on Ceremonial night. But before I tell you about the passwords I must tell you about the signal calls, for they come first in order. You see, the general signal of the Winnebagos is the call of the whippoorwill, like this”—and she illustrated her words with a clear call. “You repeat that three times and at the end of it you must give your own individual bird call. We all have different ones. Mine is the robin, like this. Nyoda’s is the bluebird; Hinpoha’s the loon; Medmangi’s is the owl; Nakwisi’s the meadowlark and Sahwah’s the catbird.”

“Whatever made you take such a hideous screech for your call, Sahwah?” interrupted Hinpoha. “There are lots of nicer bird calls than that of the catbird.”

“I don’t care, I wanted the catbird,” returned Sahwah. “It suits my individuality, as my dear friend, Miss Snively, would say. I am the ‘cat that walks by himself and all places are alike to me!’”

“Be a catbird as much as you like,” said Gladys pacifically, “as long as you don’t eat us poor bird-birds. But to go back to the passwords. You see, Nyoda is Guardian of the Fire, and she always goes up to the Lodge room first on Ceremonial night. If any of us get there ahead of her we have to stay out until she comes. Then we announce our coming by giving the call of the whippoorwill and she knows one of the Winnebagos is below; and she knows which one it is by the individual bird call. So she calls out ‘Who goes there?’ and we answer ‘A friend.’ When she says, ‘Stand and give the countersign,’ we have to say, ‘Other Council Fires were here before.’”

“What does that mean, ‘Other Council Fires were here before?’” asked Veronica.

The girls looked at one another. “What does it mean?” asked Gladys.

“I don’t know,” said Sahwah.

“I don’t know,” said Hinpoha.

“You insisted on our having it, Sahwah,” said Gladys. “Why did you choose it if you didn’t know what it meant?”

“Oh,” explained Sahwah lightly, “I saw it written over the door of one of the historical buildings at the Exposition, and it sounded as if it might mean something grand, so I chose it. You girls were all delighted with it, so that’s proof it’s a good catch-word.”

“It is a good countersign,” said Nyoda, “although I confess I can’t tell wherein the charm lies.”

“Well, to proceed,” said Gladys, “after you have given the countersign you will be asked to give the Inner Pass Word, and then you must say ‘Kolah Olowan.’ That means ‘Song Friend.’ You know we pride ourselves on being a singing group, that is, we have a great many songs that we sing