“I heard someone on the boat say that she would probably get the Buffalo Robe this year; that she had almost gotten it last year,” continued Agony.  “What is the Buffalo Robe, please?”

“The Buffalo Robe,” replied Miss Judith, “is a large leather skin upon which the chief events of each camping season are painted in colors, and at the end of the summer it goes to the girl who is voted the most popular.  She keeps it through the winter and returns it to us when camp opens the next year.”

“Oh-h,” breathed Agony, mightily interested.  “And who got it last year?”

“Peggy Atterbury,” said Miss Judith.  “You’ll hear all about her before very long.  All the old girls are going to tie black ribbons on their tent poles tomorrow morning because she isn’t coming back this year.  She was another rare spirit like Mary Sylvester, only a bit more prominent, because she saved a girl from drowning one day.”

Agony’s heart swelled with ambition and desire as she listened to Miss Judith telling about the Buffalo Robe.  A single consuming desire burned in her soul—­to win that Buffalo Robe.  Nothing else mattered now; no other laurel she might possibly win held out any attraction; she must carry off the great honor.  She would show Nyoda what a great quality of leadership she possessed; there would be no question of Nyoda’s making her a Torch Bearer when she came home with the Buffalo Robe.  Thus her imagination soared until she pictured herself laying the significant trophy at Nyoda’s feet and heard Nyoda’s words of congratulation.  A sudden doubt assailed her in the midst of her dream.

“Do new girls ever win the Buffalo Robe?” she asked in a voice which she tried hard to make sound disinterested.

“Yes, certainly,” replied Miss Judith.  “Peggy Atterbury was a new girl last year, and the girl who won it the year before last was a new girl also.”

Her doubt thus removed, Agony returned to her pleasant day dream with greater longing than ever.  The conversation at their table was interrupted by shouts from the next group.

“Oh, Miss Judy, please, please, can’t we live in the Alley?”

Another group farther down the table took up the cry, and the room echoed with clamorous requests to live either “in the Alley” or “on the Avenue.”  The Elephant’s Child came in at the end with a fervent plea:  “Please, can’t I be in Pom-pom’s tent this year?”

“Tent lists are all made out,” replied Miss Judith blandly.  “You’ll all find out in a few moments where you’re to be.”  She sat calmly amid the buzz of excited speculation.

“What do they mean by living ’in the Alley’?” asked Sahwah curiously.

“There are two rows of tents,” replied Miss Judith.  “The first one is called the Avenue and the second one the Alley.  This end of camp, where the bungalows are, is known as the Heights, and the other end the Flats.  There is always a great rivalry in camp between the dwellers in the Alley and the dwellers on the Avenue, and the two compete for the championship in sports.”