Mrs. Vernon turned the flashlight over the ground about them (Frontispiece)

Contents

CHAPTER ONE—THE DANDELION PATROL

“Dear me, I never saw so many old dandelions in my life!” exclaimed Juliet Lee, as she tugged mightily at a stubborn root.

“Seems to me there are ten new weeds ready to spring up the moment we pull an old one out,” grumbled Ruth Bentley, standing up to straighten her aching back.

“Forty-six for me! I’ll soon have my hundred roots out for the day!” exulted Elizabeth Lee, Juliet’s twin sister. As she spoke, she shook a clod of loose earth from a large dandelion root, and threw the forty-sixth plant into a basket standing beside her.

“You handled that root exactly as an Indian would a scalp before he ties it to his belt,” laughed Joan Allison, another girl in the group of four so busily at work weeding a vast expanse of lawn.

“Oh, me! I don’t b’lieve we ever will earn enough money this way to pay our expenses in a Girls’ Camp!” sighed Ruth, watching her companions work while she stood and complained. “Doesn’t it seem foolish to waste these lovely summer days in weeding Mrs. Vernon’s lawn, when we might be having glorious sport in a Girl Scouts’ Troop?”

“We’d never be admitted to a Patrol or Troop if we had to confess failure in pulling up little things like dandelions,” ventured Elizabeth, without raising her eyes from her task.

“There you go—preaching, as usual!” retorted Ruth.

“Well, anyway, Mrs. Vernon said it wasn’t so much what we did, or where we did it, as long as we always did the best we could; so I’m trying my best on these unfriendly weeds,” added Elizabeth, generally called Betty, for short.

“Pooh! Mrs. Vernon is an old preacher, too, and you copy her in everything just because you haven’t any mind of your own!” scorned Ruth, her face looking quite ugly for such a pretty girl.

Juliet, known familiarly as Julie, glanced over at her sister to see if Ruth’s rude words hurt. Seeing Betty as happy-faced as ever, she exchanged glances with Joan, who understood Ruth better than the girl understood herself.

To change the trend of the conversation, Joan now asked: “Has any one thought of a name for our club?”

“Yes, I proposed lots of them but Verny seemed to think they were meaningless. I suppose she prefers a Latin or Greek name,” Ruth jeered.

“Oh, not at all! She left it entirely to us to choose a name, but she thought we ought to select one that would fit,” hastily explained Joan.

“I’ve got one—guess what?” exclaimed Betty, sitting back, and hugging her knees as she smiled questioningly at her friends.

The other girls puckered their brows and guessed all sorts of names, some so ridiculous that a merry chorus of laughter pealed across the glen; but finally, Betty held up a hand in warning and shouted:

“Halt! Halt! if you keep on this way, we’ll never finish the weeds.”

“Give up, then!” responded her companions.

“Dandelion Troopy!” exulted Betty.

“Troopy—why that ‘y’ at the end?” queried Joan.

“’Cause we can’t be a regular ‘Troop,’ you know, while we have only four members—Verny said the Scout Manual says so. As most infant