get discouraged, like so many
girls--though Heaven knows you've had enough trouble to make you as
nervous as any of them."

"I get awfully frightened. Indeed, I do!"

"Of course you do, but you've got pluck enough to admit it. Remember
this: the real hero is the man who does what's right, and what he knows
he ought to do, even if he's scared so that he's shaking like a leaf.
Any fool can do a thing if it doesn't frighten him to do it, and he
doesn't deserve any special credit for that. The real bravery is the
sort a man shows when he goes into battle, for instance, and wants to
turn around and run as soon as he hears the bullets singing over his
head."

"I'm sure I would want to do just that--"

"But you wouldn't! That's the point, you see. And you always think
things are going to be all right. That's fine--because about half the
time we can control the things that happen to us. If we think everything
will come right in the end, we can usually make them work out our way.
But if we start in thinking that nothing is going to be right, why, then
we're licked before we begin, and there's not much use trying at all.
Now, you didn't say Zara would feel differently _if_ things came
out right. You said she would _when_ everything was straightened
out. And that's the spirit that wins. Try to put some more of it into
her, and try to make her tell you what happened, too."

But all of Bessie's efforts to win Zara's confidence that day were in
vain. Zara, however, seemed to be all right. She was brighter and
livelier than she had been since Bessie had known her. All day long she
laughed and burst into little snatches of song, and Miss Mercer was
delighted.

Nevertheless Bessie wasn't satisfied, and she kept a close watch on Zara
all day. It seemed time wasted, however. Zara made no attempt to keep
away from her; seemed anxious, indeed, to be with her chum, that they
might talk over their plans for winning enough honors as Camp Fire Girls
to become Fire-Makers.

Had Bessie's eyes and her perceptions been less keen she would have
thought her first idea, the one she shared with Charlie Jamieson, a
mistaken one. But more than once, when Zara thought she was unobserved,
and was therefore off her guard, Bessie saw the corners of her mouth
droop and a wistful look come into her eyes. There was fear in those
eyes, too, though of what, Bessie could not imagine.

It was long after midnight that night when Bessie was aroused, she
s