The Camp Fire Girls at School; Or, The Wohelo WeaversFrey, Hildegard G.
General
The Camp Fire Girls at School; Or, The Wohelo Weavers
Frey, Hildegard G.
Camp Fire Girls -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Fiction
Migwan made an effort to still the wild beating of her heart and read
the questions through. They all appeared easy to her, as she had had
such a thorough preparation. George Curtis groaned to himself as he
looked them over, for there were two which he saw at a glance he would
be unable to answer. Abraham read his and looked thoughtful. Migwan
wrote rapidly with a sure and inspired pen until she came to the last
question. There she halted in dismay. The question was in the Ancient
History group and read, in part, "Who was the invader of Israel before
Sennacherib?" For the life of her she could not think of the name of the
Assyrian invader. Last night the whole thing had been as clear as
crystal in her mind. She thought until the perspiration stood out on her
forehead; she tried every method of suggestion that she knew, but all in
vain; the name still eluded her. While she was trying so desperately to
recall the name, George Curtis in the seat behind was watching her. By
chance he had caught a glimpse of her paper, and saw the figure 10
followed by an empty space, so he knew that it was the tenth question
she was having trouble with. This happened to be one he knew and he had
just written it out in a bold, black hand. He was out of the race for
the prize, for there were two whole questions left out on his sheet. By
certain signs of distress from the two girls behind him he knew that
they, too, were out, and it now lay between Migwan and Abraham. Abraham
was not very well liked by the boys since the affair of the statue.
George despised him utterly, and he could not bear to think of his
winning that prize.
He watched his chance. It came at last. The teacher dropped her pencil
behind her desk, and in the instant when she was picking it up he
reached out and pulled Migwan's hair sharply. When she turned around in
surprise he framed with his lips the name "Sargon." She understood it
perfectly. Then came a mental struggle which matched Sahwah's terrific
physical one that day in camp. On one side college stood with its doors
wide open to welcome her; she heard the plaudits of her friends who
expected and wanted her to win the prize; she saw the joy in her
mother's face when she heard the news; she heard the heartfelt
congratulations of Nyoda and the Winnebagos who would share in her
glory. On the other hand she heard just five ugly words echoing in her
ears. "_You didn't win it honestly!"_ She tried to stifle the voice of
science. "I knew it perfectly all the time," she said to herself, "and
it only slipped my mind for an instant." "But you forgot," said the
voice, "and if he hadn't told you you wouldn't have known."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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