"I give you my word that I shall drop the matter. I know my friends have no desire to keep it active. I say this in their defense. I cannot allow you to misunderstand or belittle their principles."

Katherine spoke with marked stiffness. She could endure Leslie's supercilious manner toward herself. When it came to laying the fault at the door of her beloved friends—that was not to be borne.

"I'm not in the least interested in your friends. All I want them to do is to mind their own business about this accident. If you say they will, I look to you to keep your word. If you will accept a money settlement, say what you want and I will hand you a check for that amount." Leslie made this offer with cool insolence.

"Please don't!" Katherine was ready to cry with weakness and hurt pride. "I—won't you look upon the whole affair as though it had not happened? Money is the last thing to be thought of."

"Very well; since that is your way of looking at it." Leslie rose. She experienced a malicious satisfaction in having thus "taken a rise out of the beggar." Her point gained, she was anxious to be gone. "Hope you will soon be as well as ever. If you need anything, let me know. I must hurry along. I have a very important dinner engagement this evening. Goodbye."

She made a hasty exit, without offering her hand in farewell. Katherine lay back among her pillows with a long sigh of sheer relief. She felt that she could not have endured her caller two minutes longer without telling her frankly how utterly she detested her.

Marjorie and Jerry coming cheerily in upon her soon after classes, she confided to them the news of Leslie's call.

"The idea," sniffed Jerry. "Wish I had been here. I'd have told Miss Bully Cairns where she gets off at. How does she know but that President Matthews knows about it already? There were several freshies in her car. No doubt they were all her sort or they wouldn't have been with her. Look at the freshies in Miss Stephens' car. They were the first on the scene and were awfully sweet to us. What would hinder any one of them from 'stirring things up' if they disapproved of the way Miss Cairns acted? I mean the way she took her time about coming back after she ran Katherine down. She had better make the rounds of the college and tell everyone to keep quiet about it."

"She knows she is entirely in the wrong," said Marjorie sternly. "Further, she has not told the truth. I am sure I would have heard a horn if she had sounded one. She was certainly exceeding the speed limit, and she did not keep her car to the proper side of the road. So long as Katherine wishes the matter dropped, her wish is law in the matter."



CHAPTER XIV.

A VOLUNTEER MESSENGER.

While the news of Katherine's injury soon spread about the college, it was reported merely as one of those unintentional happenings for which no one was actually culpable. The owners of cherished cars were canny enough to realize that to capitalize the accident meant jeopardy to their privileges. All knew that a certain important college for girls had recently banned cars. None were anxious that Hamilton College should find cause to do likewise.

There was one person, however, upon whose action no one had reckoned. That particular person chanced to be Professor Wenderblatt. As a friend of his daughter's and his most brilliant pupil, the professor cherished a warm regard for Katherine. One of the freshmen in the car driven by Harriet Stephens chanced to be a friend of Lillian's. The latter received from her a fairly accurate account of the accident on the following Monday. Nor did the freshman fail to place the blame where it belonged.

Highly indignant, Lillian regaled her father with the news at dinner on Monday evening, declaring that she thought something ought to be done to make the Sans stop their reckless driving. Professor Wenderblatt, who was bound by no ties of school-girl honor, decided to have a private word on the subject with President Matthews. The fact that Katherine had just missed having her back broken was serious enough in his belief to warrant a reprimand from headquarters to the offenders.

Utterly unaware that she had a zealous, but an undesired defender, Katherine returned to her classes after a two weeks' absence apparently in good trim. With her re-appearance on the campus the Sans took heart again. Leslie had not been summoned to the president's office. Nothing had occurred to point to trouble from that direction.

The disastrous ending of the freshman picnic had dampened her ardor for electioneering for a few days. Gradually it returned. Aided by Lola Elster and Alida Burton, who were eager to please her, Leslie endeavored again by means of luncheons, dinners and treats to rally the freshmen to Elizabeth Walbert's banner. Certain wise freshmen, however, had discovered for themselves Phyllis Moore's many good qualities. They intended to nominate her and proceeded to root energetically for her. This contingent had not been pleased with the patronizing manner which the Sans had displayed towards them at the picnic. They were altogether too independent and honorable to barter their class vote for a mess of pottage.

"Freshie election this afternoon," announced Jerry, as she caught up with Marjorie on the steps of the Hall. "Saw you half way across the campus. You might as well have been ten miles away. I trilled but you didn't hear me. I'll bet that election will be a brisk and busy affair."

"I didn't hear you trill. I saw you just as I started up the walk. I hear Phil has quite strong support. It would be great if she'd win after all the fuss the Sans have made over Miss Walbert."

"She says she won't," was Jerry's disappointing reply. "She thinks over half the class will vote for Miss Walbert. If they do I shall be sore enough at them to stay away from the freshman frolic."

"There's to be a class meeting tomorrow afternoon to discuss that very frolic. Did you see the notice yesterday?"

"Yep. Nothing gets by me that I happen to see. I saw that," Jerry made humorous reply. "I suppose it is up to us to do the agreeable this year, also the decorating."

"Also the gallant escort act. Oh, my!" Marjorie exclaimed in sudden consternation. "Something important nearly got by me. I promised Miss Humphrey this noon to give Lucy a message from her. Her secretary is sick and she needs someone for a few days. She is away behind in her letters. Goodbye. I'll see you later."

Marjorie promptly disappeared into the house in search of Lucy. Her quest proved fruitless. Lucy was not in her own room or with any of the other Lookouts. Katherine was also not at home, which pointed to the fact that the two had gone somewhere together.

"They're at Lillian's," guessed Marjorie. "I had better walk over to Hamilton Hall and tell Miss Humphrey I haven't seen Lucy," was her next thought. "She may be waiting for her."

It was not more than five minutes' walk across the campus to the Hall. Marjorie ran part of the way and bounded up the steps of the building, breathless and rosy.

"It was kind in you to take so much trouble, Miss Dean," Miss Humphrey said gratefully, as Marjorie explained Lucy's non-appearance.

"It was no trouble at all. I will surely see Miss Warner tonight. I wish there was something I could do to help you. I'm afraid I'd make a very poor secretary." Marjorie smiled at her own lack of secretarial ability.

"There is a service you can do for me. May I ask, have you anything particular to do before dinner? Something occurred today in the routine of the business of the college which makes it necessary for me to send a note to Doctor Matthews or else go over to his home to see him at once. He has not been at the Hall today, and I feel that I should not let this matter go over until tomorrow without, at least, sending word to him. I can't go myself. My work will keep me here until after six. Then I have a meeting on hand tonight. If you will take a note for me to the Doctor, I shall be eternally grateful."

"I'd love to," Marjorie responded heartily.

"That is truly a weighty matter off my mind," smiled the registrar. Immediately she busied herself with the writing of the note to be intrusted to Marjorie.

"There will be no answer," she said to Marjorie, when, fifteen minutes later, she handed the letter to the willing messenger. "If Doctor Matthews is not in, leave it with a member of the family. Please don't intrust it to the maid. If it should happen that no one is at home, then you had better come back with it to my office."

"Very well." Feeling quite at home with Miss Humphrey, whom she had liked on sight, Marjorie drew herself up and saluted. "That is the way I do at home," she laughed. "My mother is Captain to me and my father General. I'm First Lieutenant Dean. I'll endeavor to carry out your order like a good soldier." Wheeling about with military precision, Marjorie saluted again and left the office. The registrar watched her go with a smile. She reflected that she had never known so beautiful a girl as Marjorie to be so utterly unspoiled.

Doctor Matthews' residence was situated at the extreme western end of the campus. Although Marjorie had passed it many times, she had never before had occasion to go there. She had never met the president of Hamilton College personally, and since she had known of Miss Remson's grievance she had experienced a certain loss of respect for him. She was therefore indifferent as to whether she delivered the letter to him or to a member of the family.

As she mounted the steps to his home, which looked like a smaller edition of Wayland Hall, the front door opened and a young woman stepped out upon the veranda. She was a tall thin girl with pale blue eyes and straight heavy brown hair. Her features non-descript, her entire make-up was colorless rather than interesting. As the two girls passed each other on the veranda, the tall girl cast a sharp glance at Marjorie. A close observer would have characterized it as distinctly unfriendly. Marjorie was not even aware of it. Her mind was not on the stranger.

"Is Doctor Matthews at home?" she courteously inquired of the maid who answered her ring.

"Yes, Miss. Who shall I say wishes to see him. Have you an appointment with him?"

"No. I have a letter for him from Miss Humphrey, the registrar. She has requested me to deliver it personally."

"Please come in. I will tell the doctor." The maid disappeared into a room at the right of the colonial hall. Quickly returning, she said: "In there, Miss." She pointed to the door which she had left partially open.

The president was seated at a flat-topped mahogany desk. He rose as Marjorie entered and came forward to meet her.

"Good afternoon," he greeted, in the deep, pleasant voice which made his addresses a delight to the ear. "Norah tells me you have a note for me from Miss Humphrey."

"Good afternoon," Marjorie returned. "Here is the note. Miss Humphrey said there would be no answer." She half turned as though to depart.

"Just a moment." The doctor was regarding her with keen but friendly eyes. "You are not of the clerical force at Hamilton Hall. Let me think. You are a sophomore, are you not?" He asked the question triumphantly, smiling as he spoke.

"Yes; I am a sophomore." Marjorie's brown eyes held polite amazement.

"I am very proud of my memory for faces," Doctor Matthews continued. "I rarely forget a face, though I do not always remember names. You were one of the freshman ushers at Commencement last June. Now you have come into sophomore estate. How do you like it?"

"Better than being a freshman." It was Marjorie's turn to smile. "I am so much better acquainted with Hamilton College now. I am sure there isn't another college in the world half so fine." She blossomed into involuntary enthusiasm. "Mr. Brooke Hamilton must have been a wonderful man. He planned everything here so nobly."

"He was, indeed, a man of noble character and true spirituality. I would rather be president of Hamilton College than any other college I have ever visited or been connected with. I revere the memory of Brooke Hamilton. It is unfortunate we know so little of him. His great-niece, Miss Susanna Hamilton, lives at Hamilton Arms. She is the last of the Hamilton family. Unfortunately for the college, she became incensed at the churlish behavior toward her of a member of the Board whose estate adjoined hers. This was many years ago. She had been on the verge of turning over to the college a great deal of interesting data regarding Brooke Hamilton which was private family history. Doctor Burns, then president of Hamilton, was to write the biography of the lovable founder of our college. After the falling-out with the Board member she refused to give up the data. Since then she has ignored the college. Brooke Hamilton's biography yet remains to be written."

"A case of the innocent having to suffer with the guilty," Marjorie said, her eyes very bright. She was privately exultant to have learned this bit of news of the Hamiltons. She had heard that the last of the Hamiltons, a woman, lived at Hamilton Arms. Leila had told her a little concerning the present owner of the Hamilton estate.

After a few further remarks on the subject of Hamilton College, she gracefully took her leave. As she stepped from the hall to the veranda, she encountered the same young woman she had met on her way into the house. This time the girl was seated in one of the porch rockers. Her eyes, as they fixed themselves on Marjorie, looked more unfriendly than ever. Marjorie caught the hostile import of this second prolonged stare.

"What a hateful face that girl had," she thought, as she continued down the walk. "I don't recall ever having seen her before. I'd certainly have remembered that face. Perhaps she's a relative of Doctor Matthews. She seems to be quite at home."

Returned to Wayland Hall, Marjorie's first act was to go to Lucy's room to give her Miss Humphrey's message. This time she found Lucy in but alone.

"Where's Ronny?" she inquired, after she had explained to Lucy the registrar's present difficulty, "I haven't seen her except at meals for two days."

"She's out with Leila and Vera waiting for the election returns. They are anxious to find out if Phil won."

"Hope she did," was Marjorie's fervent wish. "You can never guess in a thousand years to whom I was talking this afternoon."

"I'm a poor guesser. You'd better tell me," Lucy said in her concise fashion.

"All right, I will. It was President Matthews." Lucy's greenish eyes turning themselves on her in astonishment, Marjorie laughed, then went on to relate the circumstances.

Lucy listened with the profound interest of a wise young owl. "What do you think of him?" she asked reflectively, when Marjorie had finished. "Does he seem the kind of man that would do a person an injustice? I'm thinking of Miss Remson now."

"I thought of her, too, while I was in his office," Marjorie responded. "No; he doesn't appear to be anything but broad-minded and just. Still, we mustn't forget that his name was signed to that letter."

"Did you see his secretary?" Lucy quizzed. "She is over at his house some of the time. He is usually at Hamilton Hall until one o'clock in the afternoon, then he goes home. I understand he transacts a good deal of college business at his home office."

"I didn't see anyone but the maid who answered the door and the president. Oh, I'll take that back. I saw a girl coming out of the house as I was going up the steps. When I came out I saw her again. She was sitting on the veranda. She had such a disagreeable expression. I noticed it particularly the second time I saw her."

"Describe her," Lucy tersely commanded.

Marjorie complied, giving a fairly good description of the stranger.

"That girl——" Lucy paused impressively, "is the president's secretary."

"Really?" Marjorie's brown eyes opened to their widest extent.

"Yes; really. I told Miss Remson the morning we were in her office that I intended to find out all I could about Doctor Matthews' secretary. I have not found out anything much about her except that she is not a student. But I have seen her. Kathie knows her by sight. She pointed her out to me one afternoon. We passed her on the campus. She was going toward Doctor Matthews' house. I did not like her looks. I feel that she was at the bottom of Miss Remson's trouble and it would not surprise me to learn that she is in with the Sans. Unfortunately I have no way of proving it. I believe it, just the same."

"There was something queer about that whole affair," Marjorie agreed. "You remember Helen said that, if the Sans were insolent and supercilious when they came back to the Hall, it would mean they had had information beforehand and were sure of their ground. Well, they were very much like that. They acted as though they owned the Hall.

"I noticed that, for I watched them particularly. I think Miss Sayres, that's the secretary's name, is the one who helped them. I hope some day to be able to prove it."



CHAPTER XV.

THE RENDEZVOUS.

The noisy entrance into the room of Muriel, Jerry, Leila, Vera and Ronny, with the disappointing news that Phyllis had lost the freshman presidency by only nine votes, broke up the confidential session.

"We went to our room first but you were not to be seen. Thought you'd be here. Last I saw of you you had started on a hunt for Lucy. Isn't it a shame about the election? To think that Walbert snip won!" Jerry elevated her nose in utter disapproval. "Won't the Sans crow? They will blow her off to dinners and spreads for a week to come. I hope she gets an awful case of indigestion."

"How very cruel you are, Jeremiah." Nevertheless, Ronny laughed with the others. Jerry's hopes for the downfall of her enemies were usually energetic and sweeping.

"I can be a lot more cruel than that," she boasted. "It made me tired to hear those sillies had elected that girl to the class presidency. Glad I'm not a freshie. They will rue it before the year is up. Phil's supporters are as mad as hops."

Many of the upper-class girls shared Jerry's opinion. The Sans' open championship of Elizabeth Walbert had excited unfavorable comment on the campus. While the upper-class students aimed to be helpful elder sisters to the freshmen, college etiquette forbade a too-marked interest in freshman affairs. The Sans had over-reached themselves and were bound to come in for adverse criticism in college circles where tradition was still respected.

The Sans, however, were oblivious to everything save the fact that they had gained their point. Leslie Cairns was radiant over the victory and gave an elaborate dinner that evening at the Colonial in honor of Elizabeth. Besides the Sans, Alida Burton and Lola Elster, twenty-two freshmen were invited. She engaged the restaurant for the evening and spared no pains and expense to make the dinner what she termed "a howler."

Following on the heels of her triumph strode calamity. The mail next morning brought her a letter which lashed her into a furious rage. It was a terse summons to appear at Doctor Matthews' office at eleven o'clock that morning. More, the four lines comprising it had been penned, not typed. Her instant surmise was that the summons had to do with the recent accident of Katherine Langly. She could think of no other reason for it, unless—Leslie turned pale. There was another reason, but she preferred not to give it mind room. She boldly decided that she would ignore the letter that morning. She would receive a second summons. It would be easy enough to assert that she had not received a first. This would give her time to see a certain person and perhaps gain an inkling of what was in the wind.

An interview with the "certain person" yielded nothing. That person was unable to throw light upon the reason for the summons. Two days elapsed, then Leslie received a second communication too austere to be disregarded. She went to the president's office in considerable trepidation and emerged from it an hour later, her heavy features set in anger. Undertaking to assume her usual nonchalant pose, she had been brought with alarming suddenness to a wholesome respect for Doctor Matthews' dignity. She had also received a lecture on reckless driving which she was not likely to forget.

"While it seems unfair to deprive students who are careful drivers of the privilege of using their automobiles at college, simply because careless young women like you will not conform to the traffic conditions, it will come to that." Doctor Matthews was a study in cold severity as he made this threatening statement. "I shall take drastic measures if another accident occurs as a result of speeding or reckless driving on the part of a student. I have been informed, Miss Cairns, that you are in the habit of exceeding the speed limit. It is a particularly dangerous proceeding on the highways adjacent to the college on account of the number of students who make a practice of walking. Referring to the accident to Miss Langly. What restitution could you have made if her back had been permanently injured? There is nothing more pitiful than a helpless invalid. Remember that and see that you are not the one to cause lifelong unhappiness or death by an act of sheer lawlessness. Let this be the last offense of this kind on your part."

Thus the president concluded his arraignment. Leslie left Hamilton Hall with but one flaming purpose. She would be even with the person or persons who had reported her to the president. Suspicion instantly pointed out "that Sanford crowd." She gave Katherine clearance of it, strange to say. She preferred to lay the blame at either the door of Marjorie or Jerry. Yet she had dark suspicions of Leila and Vera. Then there were the freshmen who had been in Harriet Stephens' car. Harriet had told her that they were in sympathy with Katherine's crowd. Whoever was to blame would suffer for it. On that point she was determined.

Shortly after her return to Wayland Hall, she resolved to cut her classes that day. Leslie received a telephone call. It was not unexpected. She had notified the maid that she would be in her room in case she should be called on the 'phone. Her sullen features cleared a trifle as she listened to the voice at the other end of the wire.

"All right," she said in guarded tones. The students had already begun to drop in from the last recitations of the morning. "Nine o'clock sharp. I'll walk. I'm not going to take chances of attracting attention. Yes, I know where you mean. It's not far from Baretti's. Don't fail me. Goodbye."

On her way to her room she encountered Natalie. "Come with me," she said shortly.

"Where were you this morning?" Natalie asked. "Professor Futelle was awfully fussed about absentees. Eight girls cut French today."

"Where was I? I was in bad, I'll say. What? Well, I guess. I got a second summons this A. M. I couldn't side-step it. His high and mightiness had the whole story of the accident from some tattle-tale. He wouldn't give me a chance to say a word hardly. One more break in the speeding line and our cars go home for good. He certainly laid down the law to me. I've a mind to tell you something else." Leslie paused before the door of her room, hand on the knob.

"What is it? You know I never tell tales, Les." Natalie eyed the other girl reproachfully. "That's more than you can say of your other pals."

"You are right about that, Nat," Leslie conceded. She motioned Natalie into the room and closed the door. "Laura says she knows who told Doctor Matthews. I'm to meet her tonight. Keep that dark. I don't want a person besides you to know it. I'm to meet her behind that clump of lilac bushes the other side of Baretti's. You know; where that old house was torn down."

Natalie nodded. She was inwardly jubilant at having thus been given Leslie's confidence. It was quite like old times. "Have you any idea who told?" she questioned, trying to hide her gratification under an air of calm interest.

"No. I'm positive it wasn't Langly. She gave me her word that she would drop the whole thing. A goody-goody dig like her would not break it. I'll tell you as soon as I come back. Come here at ten. I shall not be later than ten-fifteen. I intend to put up a 'Busy' sign tonight so as to keep the girls out of here before I start. They know better than to try to get by it, too."

At precisely twenty minutes to nine that evening Leslie took the "Busy" placard from her door and locking it proceeded to the rendezvous. She had put on a long dark motor coat and a black velour sports hat. The instant she had left the Hall's premises behind her she pulled the hat low over her face and broke into a run. An expert tennis player, she was swift and nimble of foot. Only once she paused, stepping behind a thicket of rhododendron bushes until a party of girls returning from town passed by. Once off the campus, she kept to the darker side of the road and was soon at the designated spot.

Her brisk run had brought her to the meeting place ahead of time. It was five minutes before the faint sound of a footfall among the fallen leaves rewarded her small stock of patience. Leslie's hand sought the pocket of her coat. A tiny stream of white light outlined the figure now very close to her. Instantly she snapped off the light with a soft ejaculation of satisfaction.

"You should not have turned that light on me," objected the other dark figure rather pettishly. "We might be seen from the road."

"Not a soul passing," Leslie assured. "I was not going to take chances of hailing the wrong party."

"Please remember that I have to be even more careful than you. No one must ever be allowed to suspect that we know each other." Laura Sayres spoke with cool precision.

"Is that what you came all the way here to tell me?" Leslie gave a short laugh. It announced that she was on the verge of being unpleasant.

"Of course it isn't." Laura prudently retreated from her lofty stand. While she enjoyed grumbling, she was too cowardly at heart to venture to do more. "I couldn't say a word over the 'phone today. I will tell you now and quickly for I have a long walk home and the road is quite lonely in places."

"Sorry I couldn't bring my car, but I didn't dare," carelessly apologized Leslie. She divined that Laura was somewhat peeved because she had not.

"Oh, it doesn't matter. Now I don't know just how much this information will be worth to you—" Miss Sayres paused. "I can only—"

"Give it to me and I'll do the square thing by you." Leslie frowned in the darkness.

"Oh, I don't mean in money," weakly defended Miss Sayres. "I mean that it's circumstantial. You must form your own opinion from what I tell you."

"I understand." Leslie quite understood that despite the secretary's protest she was not above being mercenary. "Go ahead."

"Last Tuesday afternoon about five o'clock I was just starting for home from Doctor Matthews' house, when who should come marching up the walk but Miss Dean," related Laura. "I wondered what brought her there. As soon as the maid let her in I turned and went back. I had made up my mind to wait around until she came out. I have a key to the front door now. One day when college first opened the doctor sent me over to the house for some papers he needed. No one was at home and I had to go back to Hamilton Hall without them. He had a key made for me right after that. You see I occupy a position of trust. No wonder I have to be careful."

"I see; but what about Miss Dean?" Leslie promptly switched the secretary back to her original subject.

"I am coming to that. I decided after I got as far as the veranda to let myself into the house. I supposed Miss Dean had come to see the doctor. The minute I stepped inside I heard voices. The door of the office was open just a little. I did not dare stand in the hall so I slipped into the living room. It is directly opposite the office. I couldn't understand a word Miss Dean said, but I heard the doctor say he was incensed at the behavior of someone, and that they would have to come before the Board. Then he said that if someone, I couldn't find out who, refused to do something or other, she would have to leave college. It remained for him to write her.

"I heard Miss Dean say very plainly: 'It is a case of the innocent having to suffer with the guilty.' They talked a little more, but both lowered their voices. I heard the doctor's chair turn and knew he was going to get up from it. I made the quickest move I ever made and slid out the door. I had left it a little open. Sure enough, in a minute or two Miss Dean came out of the house and went away."

"I think that's pretty good proof against the foxy little wretch." Leslie's voice was thick with wrath. She was still smarting from the morning's humiliation. "I wish I could tell you how I hate that little sneak. I'll get back at her, believe me."

"I certainly would, if I were you. Just to be on the safe side I went into the house and stopped at the office door. I said, 'If you have nothing more for me to do I will go now, Doctor Matthews.' I thought perhaps he would ask me to write the letter he had spoken of. Not he. He said: 'No, thank you, Miss Sayres. You need not have waited.' So I had no excuse to stay."

"That's another proof. The letter he sent me was penned. You have picked the culprit, all right enough. I have an idea I know how to deal with her." Leslie threatened in an excess of spite. "One thing more and then we must beat it. Do you believe that Remson affair will ever leak out? I shiver every time I think of it. That was a bold stroke."

"It doesn't worry me. I know enough about Miss Remson to know she will keep far away from Doctor Matthews after the letter she received from him. The one he received from her, after she had been over to see him, made him think she had had a heart-to-heart talk with you girls and you'd all promised to do differently. He wouldn't interfere after that. Unless they should happen to meet, which isn't likely, matters will stay as they are. I destroyed the letter supposed to be from Miss Remson. The doctor told me to file it, but if he ever asked for it I would pretend not to be able to find it. He wouldn't remember what she wrote. While I am his secretary I can manage the affair. As time passes it will be forgotten. Doctor Matthews would not mention it if he happened to meet Miss Remson. That's not his way."

"Glad to hear it. It lifts a weight from my mind. I've only one more year at Hamilton after this. My father expects me to be graduated with honor. He would never forgive me if I were to be expelled from Hamilton at this late date." Leslie was moved out of her usual indifferent pose. Fear of exposure gripped her hard at times.

"Better let this Miss Dean alone," was Laura's succinct advise. "I hear she is very popular on the campus. She looks independent enough to take up for herself. Be careful she doesn't turn the tables on you as she did last spring."

"Not this time. She won't like my methods, but she won't be able to prove that they are mine. In fact she won't know where to place the blame."



CHAPTER XVI.

FAIR PLAY AND NO FAVORS.

Phyllis Moore accepted her defeat with the easy grace which was hers. Her freshman supporters were not so ready to give in. They gave up the ghost with marked displeasure. Forty-five members of the class had voted for her. They had shown open and hearty disapproval of Elizabeth Walbert. The other three officers were more to their liking, but the Sans' electioneering had left a rift in the freshman lute which promised plenty of discord later on. Though every member of the class had attended the picnic as a matter of courtesy, the finer element had been privately weary of the affair before the afternoon was over. The Sans' efforts to mould the freshmen to their views merely resulted in amalgamating stray groups to one solid formation. A fact they were presently to discover.

The election of officers had occurred much later than was the rule. The excitement attendant upon it had hardly died out before the freshman frolic loomed large on their horizon. With the sophomore class almost entirely free from snobbish influences, the dance promised to be an occasion of undiluted enjoyment. The humbler freshmen off the campus were the first to receive invitations from the sophs. Those sophs who still clung to the Sans were only a handful. The freshies of Elizabeth Walbert's faction found that the majority of them would be without special escort unless the juniors or seniors came to their rescue.

Rallied to duty by Alida Burton and Lola Elster, the Sans magnanimously stepped into the breach. They, in turn, brought certain of their junior and senior allies to the aid of the escortless. It was a sore point, however, among a number of freshmen who had voted for Miss Walbert that the sophomores had passed them by for mere off-the-campus students. It served as a quiet lesson by which a few of them afterward profited.

Eager to regain her lost laurels, Natalie Weyman was insistent that Lola and Alida should ask the entertainment committee to give another Beauty contest.

"What do you take me for?" was Lola's derisive reply when Natalie asked her for the third time to try to bring the contest about. "I'd just as soon ask Prexy Matthews to dye his hair pink as to ask those snippies to give a Beauty parade. Kiss yourself good-bye, Nat. You didn't win it last year. Nuff said."

Whereupon Natalie took pains to confide to anyone who would listen to her that she thought Lola Elster the rudest, slangiest person she had ever had the misfortune to meet.

Marjorie could not recall a festivity for which she had worked hard beforehand and enjoyed more than the preparation for the freshman hop. Going to the woods to gather the spicy, fragrant pine boughs and gorgeous armfuls of autumn leaves and scarlet mountain ash berries for decorations was purest pleasure. No less did she revel in the hours spent in beautifying the gymnasium in honor of the baby class. Everyone concerned in the labor was so good-natured and jolly that an atmosphere of harmony permeated the big room and hovered over it on the night of the frolic.

Even the Sans appeared to imbibe a little of that genial atmosphere and behaved at the frolic with less arrogance than was their wont when appearing socially. Leslie Cairns alone of them flatly refused to be present. She wheedled Joan Myers into escorting Elizabeth Walbert to the dance and remained in her room in a magnificent fit of sulks. She was too greatly inflamed against Marjorie to endure going where she would be in close touch with her for an evening. She therefore amused herself that evening in planning the cherished move she intended to make against Marjorie.

"Perhaps I ought not say it, but I had a good deal better time tonight than at the frolic last year," Muriel confided to her chums between yawns. Discipline being lax they had gathered in Ronny's and Lucy's room after the dance for a cup of hot chocolate and sweet crackers.

"I know I had," emphasized Marjorie. "Everyone seemed to go in for a good time tonight."

"The Sans unbent a little, didn't they?" commented Jerry. "That was because their boss stayed away. Those girls might become civilized in time without Leslie Cairns on the job."

"They were a little more gracious," agreed Ronny. "I don't know how the rest of you feel about it. I am glad the frolic is over. I am tired. We have been stirred up ever since we came back to college. First over Miss Remson's trouble. Next came the Sans' move to grab all the freshmen. Then Kathie's accident, and after that the commotion over the freshie election. We were all keyed up to quite a pitch over that on account of Phil. Now the dance is over. What next? Nothing, I fondly hope. I am going to lead the student life, provided I am allowed to do it."

"You forget basket ball," reminded Muriel.

"I am going to try to forget it," retorted Ronny so wearily that her tone elicited a chorus of giggles. "I don't play the game, thank my stars!"

"I shall, if I have a chance," Muriel asserted. "How about you, Marjorie?"

"I am going to try for a place on the team this year," Marjorie announced in a purposeful manner. "I hope we get a fair try-out. I really want to play. I like Professor Leonard's appearance. Helen had quite a long talk with him the other day. He is a seasoned basket ball player. He played center on a western college team the whole four years of his college course. He is going to arrange for a series of try-outs to be held next week. He thinks each class ought to have its own team. The seniors never play, though."

"Since those are his sentiments, they sound as if he were strictly on the square," approved Jerry. "I mean, he is a real basket-ball enthusiast. The real ones won't stand for unfairness."

"Miss Reid will be a cipher in b. b. plans this year and I am good and glad of it," exulted Muriel. "Professor Leonard looks to me like a person who wouldn't show favoritism. He certainly has lots of the right kind of energy."

Muriel's opinion of the young professor of physical culture proved correct. On Monday following the freshman dance, a notice appeared on the official bulletin board stating that on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday afternoon of that week basket-ball try-outs for freshman, sophomore, junior and senior teams, respectively, would be held at four-thirty o'clock in the gymnasium. It bore the pertinent signature: "James Leonard, Director Athletics and Gymnasium."

Freshmen and sophomores hailed it with delight. The juniors were not so enthusiastic, though it was noised about that there would be a junior team composed of Sans, if they could manage to make it. The seniors from the height of their dignity smiled tolerantly but refused to commit themselves.

Determined to be in touch with the game from the very beginning, Muriel, Jerry and Marjorie attended the freshman try-out. Ronny begged off on account of a chemical experiment she was anxious to make. Lucy declared, that, if she attended the sophomore try-out on Tuesday she considered that a sufficiency of basket ball.

Under the expert and impartial direction of Professor Leonard, the freshman try-out was conducted with a snap and precision which left nothing to be desired in the minds of those students who had yearned for fair play. It brought confusion to a certain clique of freshmen, headed by Elizabeth Walbert, who had reckoned on some of their particular friends carrying off the honors and being appointed to the team. The despatch with which the aspirants were made up into squads and tried out against each other was a joy to witness. The energetic director weeded out the defective players in short order. His searching eyes missed not a movement, clever or bungling. The five girls finally picked to play on the official freshman team were a survival of the fittest. Among them was Phyllis Moore. Further, she was given the position of center and roundly complimented by the director for what he termed her "whirlwind" playing. This triumph pleased boyish Phyllis far more than winning the class presidency could have done. Barbara Severn, the Baltimore freshie, who Marjorie had looked out for on her arrival at Hamilton, won the position of right guard, and was also praised for her work.

Once the team was chosen the director put them through fifteen minutes of snappy play. Their fast and nimble work elicited rousing cheers from the large audience of students who had dropped in to witness the try-out.

"Isn't it great that both Phil and Barbara won?" bubbled Robin Page. Half a dozen Silverton Hall girls had joined Marjorie's group after the try-out, preparatory to giving the successful aspirants a special ovation as soon as they should leave the floor. "Phil and Barbara are awfully chummy, so they'll be pleased to the skies."

"I think they are a great combination," returned Jerry. "They are our catches. We hooked them when we went freshie fishing. I like the way they look after Anna Towne, too. She is lucky to have them for pals."

"Phil is very fond of her, you know," smiled Robin, "and Barbara is a dear. She is a real Southern aristocrat. She has the gentlest, kindest ways and the sweetest voice! She and Phil are the really great hopes of the freshman class, I think."

"You know what the Bible says about the little leaven leavening the whole lump." Jerry spoke with sudden seriousness. "Maybe Phil and Barbara will turn out to be the particular kind of leaven the freshies need. I suppose they wouldn't feel especially complimented at being classed as a 'lump,' but then what they don't hear will never hurt them," she added, her serious face breaking into its irresistible little grin.

"I only hope we do as well tomorrow as Phil and Barbara," Muriel said irrelevently, her brown eyes fixed in some trepidation on the alert director. "That man's eyes seem to be everywhere at once. Nothing gets by him."

"We will have to hustle if we expect recognition from him, I know that. There are some fine players among the sophs, too. You know how well that team chosen after the fuss with Miss Reid could play. I think Robin is a better player than I," Marjorie turned to Robin with a smile.

"No, siree! I have heard marvelous reports of your playing," differed Robin with energy.

"You have a bitter disappointment ahead of you tomorrow then," retorted Marjorie. "You'll probably see me relegated to the scrub, sub or dub class."

"I prophesy all three of you modest violets will make the team. The real exhibition will be on Thursday afternoon. The strenuous Sans and the dictatorial director; or, what's the use without Miss Reid? They will learn a few points of the game before he gets through with them. I wouldn't miss that try-out for a good deal." Jerry was deriving an impish satisfaction from the prospect of the Sans' encounter to come with Professor Leonard.

The next afternoon brought a large and interested audience to the gymnasium. Robin Page had many well wishers in all three of the upper classes. Leila and Vera also headed a goodly company who were anxious to see Marjorie and Muriel make the team. The Sans came in a body to cheer Lola Elster and Alida Burton on to victory. They had attended the freshman try-out and seen a team selected which contained not one of their allies. They had also learned that Professor Leonard was not to be deceived for an instant. Only the fairest kind of fair play would be acceptable to him. Leslie Cairns was confident that Lola Elster would make the sophomore team. Of the skill of her junior chums as players she was openly doubtful. She rudely hooted at their avowed intention to enter the lists.

"You girls are punk players, one and all. Why make simpletons of yourselves tomorrow?" she inquired of Joan and Natalie. "You need at least a month's drill to put you in trim. Proffy Smarty Alec will chase you off the floor."

"You're so hateful, Les," bitterly complained Joan. "We stand as good a chance as can be at the junior try-out. I happen to know that we Sans are almost the only juniors who are going to try for the team. Some of us will be picked. He's a fine coach. He will soon put our team in good form."

"Go to it and be happy," Leslie laughed. "You will so enjoy being ragged every three minutes by that conceited tyrant. I am not going to throw cold water on your fond hopes, but don't cry if he can't see you as a junior team."



CHAPTER XVII.

"GENERAL" CAIRNS TO THE RESCUE.

The series of try-outs, plus the directorship of Professor Leonard, caused basket ball interest to soar to exceptional heights. The sophomore try-outs brought even a larger number of students to the scene than did the freshman test. About thirty-five sophs essayed to make the team. None of the aspirants could be classed as poor players, and it took the approving director a trifle longer than at the previous try-out to pick the team.

Muriel was among the first two fives to be called to the floor. Always to be depended upon in bygone high school days, she had not fallen off as a player. During the fifteen minutes of brisk play, she was conspicuous by reason of her clever work with the ball. Watching her eagerly, Marjorie could only hope to do as well when her turn came to play.

At Sanford High School she had often been rated by enthusiastic fans as the star player of the school. She had formerly loved the game and played it with all her might. Now the old delightful fascination for it thrilled her anew. She forgot everything save the fact that she was once more to tussle for the ball. Robin Page had been called to the opposing five. From the moment Professor Leonard put the ball in play at center she and Marjorie amply demonstrated their right to be classed as stars. Applause was not slow in coming from the interested spectators. The sophs raised their voices in cries of "Robin Page! Marjorie Dean!—Who are they? They're all right! Some players! Rah, rah, rah!" and similar calls of noisy appreciation. Even Professor Leonard smiled at the racket that ensued when Marjorie made a clever throw to basket after spiritedly dodging her opponents.

When finally the try-out ended and the official soph team was named, it consisted of Robin, Muriel, Marjorie, Grace Dearborn and Marie Peyton. To Marjorie fell the honor of center and a more delighted, astonished girl than she would have been hard to find.

"You deserve center," Robin delightedly wrung her hand. "You are a better player than I and I don't mind a bit. Oh, Marjorie! Think what fun we shall have whipping all the other teams. We have a wonderful five!"

This was the consensus of opinion. Knowing fans were already predicting easy victories for the sophomore team that season. The moment the winning five had been announced Lola Elster disappeared. Her mortification at having failed to make the team would not permit her to remain and meet the Sans. She knew Leslie Cairns would be disappointed, and, consequently, in a bad humor. Her own state of chagrin was such that a word from Leslie would have brought on a quarrel. Lola prudently decided to vanish until the keen edge of Leslie's displeasure should have worn itself off.

The fast playing they had witnessed that afternoon went far to dampen the Sans' ardor to try for the junior team. That evening they held a consultation in Joan's room on the subject. In the end, however, they could not resist the desire to make themselves prominent. They agreed to play their best, and, if chosen, to hire a coach and practice assiduously. Leslie was present at the discussion and brimming with derision. "You had better keep off the floor," was her rough advice. "You'll make a worse showing than Lola did and she was hopeless."

Spurred by Leslie's jibes the Sans resolved to put forth every effort at their try-out to make a decent showing. Other than themselves there were not more than half a dozen aspirants. Thus their chances were good. Having closely watched the director's methods at two try-outs they knew what would be expected of them. They had also learned a number of things about basket ball that they had not known before. Whether they could apply this knowledge to their own playing on such short notice was a question.

When the fateful junior try-out was over, Professor Leonard was of the private opinion that he had made a mistake in attempting to carry basket ball beyond the sophomore year. Nevertheless he selected a team from junior material, such as it was, and proceeded to tersely address them. Joan Myers, Natalie Weyman and Harriet Stephens represented the Sans. The other two players chosen were a Miss Hale and a small sprightly junior, Nina Merrill.

"You young women are all sadly out of practice. You can play a fair game if you go to work and spend some time on the floor. You are away behind the freshmen and sophomores. You would be white-washed by either team if you met them now. Your playing is too slow. Learn to move fast. That is essential in basket ball. On a man's team, the moment a player begins to show a slowing down he is dropped. Quick work; that is the beauty of this game. Come here regularly for practice and I will help you."

The frank opinion of the director, delivered in impersonal kindness, the Sans found hard to swallow. Self-willed and self-centered, they bore honest criticism very badly. Neither were they appreciative of his offer to aid them in their practice.

"I think it is fine in Professor Leonard to offer to help us," ventured Nina Merrill to Joan Myers as the director walked away. The team had been standing in a group during the short address.

"Really, I hadn't thought about it." Joan's tones were chilling. Nina was a nobody in her estimation and must be treated as such.

"You must be most unappreciative." Stung by the snub she had received, Nina spoke straight from her heart. Then she turned and walked away.

"Why, the idea!" An angry flush overspread Joan's face. To be treated to a dose of her own medicine did not set well.

Just then Leslie Cairns joined them and Joan forgot her outraged feelings.

"Come along," ordered Leslie. "Get your togs changed in a hurry. I am going to blow you three girls to eats at the Ivy. Beat it out of the dressing room without saying where you're going. I want to talk to you three and I am not strong for entertaining the gang. You did better than I thought you would. What was Leonard haranguing you about?"

"He raked us down for being out of practice. Said he would coach us if we'd come regularly to the gym." Natalie made a contemptuous gesture.

"Tell him to fly away," shrugged Leslie. "You don't need his coaching. I have a better plan. Let's be moving."

The quartette walked away without a word of farewell to Ruth Hale, who had been standing near them. She was also beneath their notice.

"You had a lot to say about our punk playing before the try-out, Les. What do you think of Lola? She certainly didn't distinguish herself." Natalie could not conceal her satisfaction at Lola's failure.

"Don't mention it." Leslie's heavy brows met. "I was sore enough at the little dummy to shake her. She let the other five put it all over her. I haven't seen her since she flivvered and I don't want to."

"She never could play basket ball," was Natalie's lofty assertion.

"She didn't show any signs of it yesterday," Leslie grimly agreed. "I'll meet you girls at the garage," she directed with a brusque change of subject. "I am going over there for my car. It's good way to lose the gang. They won't look for us there."

"What do you think of Les?" inquired Joan with raised brows as the two girls entered the dressing room. "Before Lola flivvered she was simply insufferable. Today she is positively affable. She's down on Lola. That's one reason."

"I wish she'd stay down on her," responded Natalie with fervor. "Les and I have never been as good pals since Lola Elster entered Hamilton."

"Now listen to me, Nat. Leslie likes you just as well as she ever did." Joan broke forth with some impatience. "She runs around with Lola and Bess Walbert, I know, and makes a fuss over them. She is perfectly aware that it makes you sore. She does it to be tantalizing. Les likes to keep something going all the time. It is a wonder to me that she hasn't been expelled from college for some of the tricks she has put over. What you must do is to pay no attention to her when she is aggravating. Don't quarrel with her. She enjoys that. Simply behave as though you couldn't see her at all. It will cure her. I'd rather see her chummy with you than Lola or Bess, either. Bess Walbert can't tell the truth to save her neck, and Lola is a selfish kid who thinks of no one but herself."

"That's all true, Joan," Natalie said with unusual meekness. "I will really try to treat Les as you suggest."

It was not necessary that evening to treat Leslie as Joan had advised. She was amiability itself. After ordering dinner, composed of the most expensive items on the menu, she rested her elbows on the table and announced: "I am going to hire a coach for you three girls. I have the address of an all-around sportsman who will teach you a few plays that no one can get by."

"But, Les, we can't do much with only three to play," objected Joan. "You don't want those two sticks of juniors at our private practice do you?"

"Not so you could notice them. You won't have to play a trio. The coach will make four and——" Leslie paused. "I shall make a fifth. I need the exercise. The coach needs the money. Besides, I propose to hire a hall."

Joan and Natalie tittered at this last. Leslie smiled in her loose-lipped fashion.

"I met this man at the beach last summer. He was coaching a private track team. He knows every trick in the sports category. He told me there were lots of ways of fussing one's opponents in basket ball besides treating them roughly. He said he had a regular line of what he called 'soft talk' that he had used with splendid effect. He gave me his address and said if ever I needed his services to write him. I had told him enough about the game here so he understood me. I understand him, too. This is my idea," she continued, leaning far forward and lowering her voice.

For ten minutes she talked on, her listeners paying strict and respectful attention.

"It's a great plan," admiringly approved Joan when Leslie had finished. "It will take cleverness and nerve, though."

"I doubt if I can do it," deprecated Harriet.

"Certainly you can do it. After you work a week or two with this coach and learn his methods you will be O. K. You will have to give three afternoons a week to it; maybe more. I'll drive to Hamilton and hire that hall tomorrow. I'll wire the coach before we go back to the campus tonight. He's in New York and I can have him here by Saturday."

"It's going to cost oodles of money. Why are you so bent on doing it, Les?" Joan asked curiously.

"I won't be kept out of things." Leslie turned almost fiercely upon her questioner. "I loathe that nippy Robina Page and I hate Marjorie Dean and her crowd. They can play basket ball, I'll admit. I'll show them they are not the only stars. You girls have got to take a game away from them. You are not to play them for a while. You are to whip the freshies first. They are a handful, too. Later, you are to beat the sophs. With the help of Ramsey, this coach, you can do it, and I know it."



CHAPTER XVIII.

"THE SOFT TALK."

The senior try-out did not take place on Friday. No aspirants appeared at the gymnasium. The seniors were not ambitious to shine as basket-ball stars. The freshmen went to work at once to perfect their playing under the willing guidance of Professor Leonard. The soph team was not quite so zealous, but put in at least two afternoons a week at practice. This team was the pride of the active director's heart. He assured them more than once that they could meet a team of professional men players and acquit themselves with credit. If he wondered why the junior five did not take advantage of his offer, he made no comment. While he took a deep interest in basket ball, he left all the arrangements of the games to the senior sports committee, preferring to allow them to do the managing.

Owing to the delay in forming the teams, no games were scheduled to be played until after Thanksgiving. Directly college routine was resumed after that holiday the freshmen challenged the sophomores to meet them on the eighth of December. The sophs graciously accepted the challenge and beat the freshies after one of the hardest fought contests that had ever taken place at Hamilton. The score stood 24-22 in favor of the sophs when the game ended, and the tumult which ensued could be heard half way across the campus. The freshmen had fought so gallantly they came in for almost as much acclamation as the winners.

Ready to give the defeated team an opportunity to square itself, the sophs challenged the freshmen to meet them on the following Saturday. The unexpected illness of Phyllis Moore, who contracted a severe cold on the eve of the game, resulted in a postponement. The freshmen team did not wish to play without Phyllis, though they announced themselves ready to do so by appointing a sub to her position. The sophs, however, would not hear to this. Thus the postponement was satisfactory to all concerned.

The junior team, in the meantime, were keeping strictly in the background. Secretly the coach, Milton Ramsey, had been established in a hotel in the town of Hamilton and was busily engaged with Leslie's team. Never had Joan, Harriet and Natalie had to work so hard. Not only must they practice in secret. Leslie decreed that they would have to practice in the gymnasium with the other two chosen members of the team in order to keep up appearances. She was a hard taskmaster, but she kept her companions in good humor by expensive presents and treats. Further, she assured them that once they had beaten the sophs they could drop basket ball for the rest of the year.

The rest of the Sans were not blind to the fact that the four girls were deep in some private scheme of their own. Coolly informed by Leslie to mind their own affairs and they would live longer and wear better, they gossiped about the situation among themselves and let it go at that. The majority of them were not doing well in their subjects and they were constrained to turn their attention for a time to the more serious side of college.

Christmas came, with its dearly coveted home holidays, and the Lookouts gladly laid down their books for the bliss of being re-united with their home folks and beloved friends. This time Lucy Warner spent Christmas at home, taking Katherine with her. A four weeks' illness of Miss Humphrey's secretary had given Lucy the position of substitute. This unexpected stretch of work had furnished her the means with which to spend Christmas with her mother. The registrar privately remarked to President Matthews that Lucy was the most able secretary she had ever employed.

For a week following the Christmas vacation, spreads and jollifications were the order in the campus houses. As Jerry pensively observed, after a feast in Leila's room, the world seemed principally made of fruit cakes, preserves and five-pound boxes of chocolates.

"I'm always crazy to go home at Christmas, yet it is pretty nice to be back here again," she remarked to Marjorie one evening soon after their return to Hamilton, as she sealed and addressed a long letter to her mother.

"I am so homesick the first two or three days after I come back that nothing seems right," Marjorie said rather soberly. "College soon swallows that up, though. I think about General and Captain just as often, but it doesn't hurt so much. Goodness knows we have enough to busy us here. My subjects are so difficult this term. Then there's basket ball. The freshmen are clamoring now for a game. Our team will re-issue that challenge soon, I know."

"What do those junior basket-ball artists think they are going to do, I wonder?" Jerry tilted her nose in disdain. "I hear they are practicing quite regularly in the gym. They simply ignore Professor Leonard. I mean the three Sans. Miss Hale and Miss Merrill are awfully cross about it. They have to play with the team, and it seems Leslie Cairns is coaching it, or trying to."

"I heard she was. I didn't know she could play. Funny the juniors don't challenge either the freshies or us."

"They wouldn't win from either team." Jerry shook a prophetic head. "The Sans seem to have settled down to minding their own affairs since Kathie was hurt. I guess that subdued them a little. They slid out of that scrape easily. Hope they practice minding their own business for the rest of the year. Ronny says she is amazed that they can do so."

Three days later the sophomore team re-issued their challenge. Sent to the freshmen on Monday, the game took place on the Saturday after. Another battle was waged and the score at the close of the game was 28-26 in favor of the sophs. It seemed that the freshmen could not surmount the fatal two points. Deeply disappointed, they bore the defeat with the greatest good nature. They were too fond of the victors to show spleen. Nothing daunted, they challenged the sophs to meet them again two weeks from that Saturday.

The next Monday a surprise awaited them. They received a challenge from the junior team to play them on the Saturday of that week. Though not enthusiastic over the honor, they accepted. Nor could they be blamed for being privately confident that they would win the game. It stood to reason that if they could so nearly tie their score with the sophs, the juniors would not be difficult to vanquish.

When Saturday rolled around and the game was called, they took the floor, quietly confident of victory. It seemed as though the entire student body had turned out to witness the game. There had been plenty of comment on the campus at Leslie Cairns' sudden whim of acting as coach. Curiosity as to what kind of showing the juniors would make as a result of her efforts at coaching had brought many girls to the scene.

Before the game began the freshman team were somewhat puzzled at the extreme affability of the three Sans' members of the opposing team. The trio met them as they emerged from the dressing room and hailed them as though they had been long lost friends. The impression of this unexpected cordiality had not died out of the five freshmen's minds when the toss-up was made. As the game proceeded they became dimly aware that this fulsome show of affability was being continued. Pitted against the junior team, as they were, it was most annoying. Nor did the three Sans play the game in silence. Whenever they came into close contact with one or more of the freshmen, they had something to say. It was not more than a hasty sentence or two uttered in a peculiarly soft tone. The effect, however, was disconcerting. Soon it became maddening. Involuntarily the one addressed strained the ear to catch the import. A sudden exclamation or ejaculation would have passed unnoticed. This purposely continued flow of soft remark drew the attention of the hearer just enough to interfere with both speed and initiative.

Not until the first half of the game had been played did it dawn fully upon the freshmen that they were being subjected to an interference as unfair as any bodily move to hamper would have been. Further, the three girls were doing it very cleverly. It was not hampering their playing in the least. Ruth Hale and Nina Merrill were playing with honest vim and in silence. Their sturdy work was equal to that of any of the opposing team save Phyllis. She was as brilliant a player as her cousin, Robin Page. Being, however, of a nervous, high-strung temperament, the three Sans' tactics had effected her most of all. As a consequence, she missed the basket two different times. Besides that, she grew disheartened with the thought that she was playing badly and missed opportunities at the ball that would never have ordinarily slipped by her.

The end of the first half of the game found the score 12-8 in favor of the juniors. The instant it was over Phyllis, who captured her team, gathered them into one of the several small rooms off the gymnasium.

"Girls," she said, in low intense tones, her blue eyes flashing, "you understand what those three Sans are trying hard to do. Miss Hale and Miss Merrill are innocent. We can complain to the sports committee and stop the game, but I'd rather not. Basket ball rules ban striking, tripping and such malicious interferences. They don't ban talking. These cheats know it. They annoyed me, because I wasn't expecting any such trick. I never played worse. We are four points behind. It's principally my fault, too. All we can do with dignity to ourselves is to try not to notice their ragging during the second half."

"Queer kind of ragging," sputtered Janet Baird. "If they'd say mean things we'd know better how to take them. Miss Weyman said right in my ear, last half, 'You freshies certainly play a fast game. How do you do it?' Her voice was as sweet as could be. It got on my nerves. Only for a second or so, but long enough to take my attention from the ball. That was her object."

The other members of the team had similar instances to relate. The ten minutes' rest between halves was turned into an indignation meeting. When the recall whistle blew, the incensed five took the floor in anything but the collected, impersonal mood the game demanded.

The three Sans had spent their intermission talking to Leslie. She was in high good humor over the success of her scheme. "You have them going. Don't let up on them a minute. See that they don't make up those four points. Hale and Merrill are playing finely."

"They don't suspect a thing, either," declared Natalie. "I am afraid those freshies will set up a squeal to the sports committee if we win."

"If? You must win. No ifs about it," decreed Leslie. "What can they say? You haven't broken the rules of the game. If they make a kick about it they put themselves in the sorehead class."

Thus encouraged by their leader, the elated trio returned to the floor primed for more mischief. Advised by Leslie, they kept quiet during the first five minutes. Expecting to be again assailed by the irritating murmurs, the freshmen met with a welcome silence on the part of their tormentors. It lasted just long enough for the ragging to be doubly irritating when it began afresh. Now on the defensive, the freshman five steeled themselves to endure it with stoicism. Nevertheless, it was a strain and put them at a subtle disadvantage. They managed to make up two of the points they had lost. Fate then entered the lists against them. Janet Baird made the serious mistake of throwing the ball into the wrong basket. This elicited vociferous cheering from junior fans and spurred their team on to the fastest playing they had done since the beginning of the game. Needless to say they dropped their unfair tactics at the last and fought with fierce energy to pile up their score. The freshmen also picked up on the closing few minutes, but the game ended 24-20 in favor of the juniors.

The losing team made straight for their dressing room, there to relieve their pent-up feelings. Very soon afterward they were visited by the sophomore team. They had attended the game in a body and had not been slow to see that things were all wrong.

"Don't feel down-hearted about it," sympathized Marjorie, as Janet Baird began bewailing her unlucky mistake of baskets. "We know how things were. So do lots of others. If the juniors should challenge you to another game, don't accept the challenge. We sophs hope they will challenge us. We think they will and try the same tactics with us. Then we are going to teach them one good lesson. After that we shall ignore them as a team."



CHAPTER XIX.

A CLAIM ON FRIENDSHIP.

After the sophomore five had heard a detailed account from Phyllis of what had occurred on the floor, they were more determined than ever on punishing the three offenders. The awkward hitch in their plans was the fact that Miss Hale and Miss Merrill, though players on the team, could not be included in their team mates' misdoings.

"Some one ought to tell those two girls how matters stand," was Ronny's energetic opinion. "They must have been very dense not to see and hear for themselves. If they noticed nothing was wrong during the game, they must surely have heard things since. It's no secret on the campus. Talk about a good illustration in psychology! It was a deliberate attempt at retarding action by a malicious irritating of the mind. I think I ought to cite it in psychology class."

Several days after the game Nina Merrill went privately to Phyllis and frankly asked her a number of questions. Receiving blunt answers which tallied with a rumor she had heard, she laid the matter before Ruth Hale and both girls resigned from the junior team. This put the remaining trio in a position they did not relish. The senior sports committee having received the resignations of the two indignant juniors accepted them without question. They appointed Dulcie Vale and Eleanor Ray, both substitute players, to fill the vacancies. As the Sans had been almost the only juniors to try for the team, the committee had little choice in the matter. Their appointment brought elation to their team mates and Leslie Cairns. "Ramsey will soon put them in good trim," she exulted. "Don't wait for those sulky freshies to challenge you. After the girls have had a week's practice, challenge the sophs and set the date two weeks away. That will give Dulcie and Nell plenty of time to learn the ropes."

The Saturday following the disastrous game between freshmen and juniors saw the freshmen actually tie their score with the sophs. According to fans it was "one beautiful game" and the freshies left the floor vastly inspirited after their defeat of the previous week. Meanwhile the sophomores calmly awaited the junior challenge. They were better pleased to have the junior team composed entirely of Sans. They would have a quintette of the same stripe with which to deal.

Before the challenge came, however, the St. Valentine masquerade, the yearly junior dance, given on February fourteenth, claimed attention. It was, perhaps, the most enjoyed of any Hamilton festivity. What girl can resist the lure of a bal masque? The socially inclined students often went to great pains and expense in the way of costumes. Three prizes were always offered; one for the funniest, one for the prettiest, and one for the most generally pleasing costume.

"I don't know what to wear to the masquerade," Marjorie declared rather dolefully. The Five Travelers were holding a meeting in hers and Jerry's room. "I'm in despair."

"Go as a French doll," suggested Ronny. "I have a pale blue net frock made over flesh-colored taffeta. It will be sweet for you. Shorten the skirt and it will make a stunning French doll costume. I have heelless blue dancing slippers to match."

"You're an angel. Isn't she, Jeremiah?" Marjorie became all animation. "What are you going to wear, oh, generous fairy god-mother?"

"My butterfly costume. The one I danced in at the Sanford campfire."

"What are you going to mask as, Jeremiah," curiously inquired Lucy. "Every time I see you I forget to ask you."

"I am going as an infant," giggled Jerry. "I shall wear a white lawn frock, down to my heels, and one of those engaging baby bonnets. I shall carry a rattle and a nursing bottle and wail occasionally to let folks know I am around."

"I don't want to dress up, but I suppose I'll have to," grumbled Lucy. "I'll go as a school girl, I guess. I can wear a checked gingham dress I have and a white apron, by shortening them. White stockings and white tennis shoes will go well with it. I'll wear my hair down my back in two braids."

"I shan't tell you what my costume's going to be. Only you will never know me on that night." Muriel made this announcement with a tantalizing smile.

"I would know you anywhere," contradicted Jerry. "I'll bet you a dinner at Baretti's that I'll walk up to you after the grand march and say 'Hello, Muriel.'"

"I'll bet you you don't," was Muriel's confident reply.

"This dance has put a large crimp in basket ball," Ronny suddenly observed. "It seems to be at a standstill. Vera said today that she heard the juniors had challenged you sophs."

"Not yet," returned Marjorie. "Robin heard the same thing. She mentioned it to me after chemistry today. Maybe we are due to get a challenge tomorrow. If we do we will not take it up until after the dance. We don't care to be bothered with it now. Do we, Muriel?"

"No, sir. After the masquerade is over we'll then turn our undivided attention to laying the juniors up for the winter. That may be the last game of the year, unless the freshies yearn for another. I am tired of playing, to tell you the truth. I don't intend to play next year."

"Nor I," Marjorie said. "I like the good old game, but it takes up so much of one's spare time. I shall go in for long walks for exercise. I have never yet prowled around this part of the world as much as I pleased."

"I see where I grow thin and sylph-like," beamed Jerry. "I shall accompany you on those prowls."

"I think I'll join the united prowlers' association, too," laughed Ronny. "I'd love to have a chance to prowl about Hamilton Arms, wouldn't you? I walked past there the other afternoon. They say that old house is simply filled with antiques. They also say that Miss Susanna Hamilton won't permit a student to set foot on the lawn. And all because she fell out with a member of the Board. He must have done something very serious."

"It is too bad she has shut herself away from everyone," Marjorie mused. "She is probably unhappy. Leila says she looks like a little old robin. Her hair isn't very gray and she is quite energetic. She has a rose garden and digs in it a lot. Just to think. She could tell us the most interesting things about Brooke Hamilton and we don't know her and never will."

"Sad but true," agreed Jerry without sadness.

During the short time that lay between them and the masquerade, the Lookouts spent their free hours in arranging their costumes. Ronny had to mend a broken place in one of her butterfly wings. Marjorie, Lucy and Jerry had to turn needlewomen. While Marjorie and Lucy had to shorten the skirts of their costumes, Jerry busied herself in laboriously finishing the infant dress she had been working on for over two weeks. "I'll never go back to infancy again, after the masquerade, believe me," she disgustedly declared. "Let me tell you, this sweet little baby gown is fearfully and wonderfully made. I know, for I took every stitch in it."

The day before the dance the sophomore team received the junior challenge to play them on the twenty-seventh of February. Purposely to keep their unworthy opponents on the anxious seat they did not immediately answer the notice sent them. "Let them wait until after the dance," Robin Page said scornfully. "If we had not determined to teach them a lesson, we would turn down their challenge and state our reason in good plain English."

The evening of the St. Valentine masquerade was always a gala one on the campus. Dinner was served promptly at five-thirty. By seven o'clock, if the weather permitted, masked figures in twos, threes and groups might be seen parading the campus. Eight o'clock saw the beginning of the grand march. Unmasking took place at half-past nine. Then the dance continued merrily until midnight.

Hurrying from Science Hall after her last recitation of the afternoon, Marjorie crossed the campus at a swift run. She was anxious to be early at the lavatory for a shower before the girls began to arrive there in numbers. Coming hastily into the hall she glanced at the bulletin board. In the rack above it, lettered with each resident's name, was mail for her. She gave a gurgle of pleasure as she saw that the topmost of two letters was in her mother's hand. The other was not post-marked, which indicated that it had come from someone at the college. She did not recognize the writing.

Saving her mother's letter to read later, she tore open the other envelope as she went upstairs. On the landing beside a hall window she stopped and drew forth the contents. Her bright face clouded a trifle as she perused the note.

"Dear Miss Dean: it read:

"It is too bad to trouble you when I know you are getting ready for the masquerade, but could you come over to my boarding house for a few minutes this evening at about half-past seven? I am in great trouble and need your advice. I would ask you to come earlier but this will be the best time for me. We moved this week to the house two doors below the one I used to live in, so stop at 852 instead of going on to 856. If you can find it in your heart to come to me now I shall be deeply grateful. I am in sore need of a friend. Please do not mention this to anyone.

"Yours sincerely, "Anna Towne."



CHAPTER XX.

ALL ON ST. VALENTINE'S NIGHT.

Marjorie swallowed an inconvenient lump that rose in her throat. She would go to Miss Towne, but it meant a total up-setting of her plans. As she could not guess the freshman's trouble she could not gauge her time. She might have to be gone for some time, although the note read "a few minutes." It was too bad. She felt a half desire to cry with disappointment. If she went at once she could get it over with and not miss the dance. But, no; the note specified half-past seven as the hour.

Presently she rallied from her downcast mood and took sturdy hope. Perhaps, after all, she would not be detained long. She was sure Anna had done nothing wrong. It was more likely a financial difficulty which confronted her. That would not be so hard to adjust. Jerry would have to know. She decided that the other three Lookouts were entitled to know also. She might have to call on them for help in Anna's case. They were her close friends and fit to be trusted with a confidence. She claimed the right to use her own judgment in the matter.

"What a shame!" was Jerry's disgruntled reception of the news. "I think it is selfish in her. Why couldn't she have waited until tomorrow? It is probably a financial difficulty. She isn't the kind of girl to break rules."

"A member of her family may have died and she hasn't the money to go home. It must be really serious," Marjorie soberly contended. "I ought to go and I will. There is no snow on the ground. I can dress before I go and wear high overshoes and my fur coat and cap. Then, if I am not kept there long, I can hustle to the gym and be there before the unmasking."

Better pleased with this arrangement, Marjorie hastily gathered up towels and toilet accessories and trotted off to the lavatory, leaving Jerry to frowningly re-read the note. Jerry did not like it at all. She wondered why Miss Towne could not have come to Wayland Hall instead of putting her chum to the extra trouble of seeking her.

Dinner was eaten post haste that night by the excited participants in the masquerade. Preparations having been the order so long beforehand, it did not take the maskers long after dinner to get into their costumes. They were eager to go outdoors and parade the campus, the night being pleasantly snappy with an overhead studding of countless stars.

Fearless in the matter of going out alone after dark where an errand called her, Marjorie did not mind the rather lonely walk after leaving the campus. In order to escape parties of maskers on the campus she wore her own mask and therefore escaped special notice. Without it she would have been challenged by every party of masks she met. This was a favorite custom on this night. Frequently a member of the faculty was caught in crossing the stretch of ground and gleefully interviewed.

Coming to the row of houses, in one of which Miss Towne resided, Marjorie kept a sharp lookout for the number. The house where she had formerly lived stood about the middle of the block. Finally she came to 852, which she found by means of a small pocket flashlight which she usually carried at night. The arc light was too far up the street to be of use to her in this.

Pausing at the bottom step of the dingy wooden veranda, Marjorie surveyed the house with a feeling of depression. The two windows on the left were without blinds and dark. There was a faint light in the hall and in the room on the right. The two windows of this room had shades. One was drawn down completely; the other was raised about eight inches above the sill.

"What a cheerless place," she murmured half aloud. "It is worse than the other house. I suppose the landlady hasn't got settled yet."

Mechanically she reached out and took hold of the old-style door bell. It did not respond at first. Using more force, it emitted a faint eerie tinkle. "It sounds positively weird," was Marjorie's thought. She smiled to herself as she rang it again. "I hope I shall never have to live in a boarding house like this. I am lucky to have love and a beautiful home and really every good thing."

The faint sound of footsteps from within falling upon her expectant ear, Marjorie straightened up and waited. A hand turned the knob. The door opened about ten inches.

"Good evening. Come in." Addressed in a muffled voice, Marjorie caught sight of a tall, black-robed figure. Before she could reply to the muttered salutation, she felt herself seized by the arms and drawn into the house with a jerk. Simultaneous with the harsh grasp of a pair of strong hands the light in the hall was turned out.

"Oh!" She gave one sharp little scream and exerting her young strength flung off the prisoning hands. "Keep your hands off me," she ordered bravely.

Just then the door leading from the hall into the right hand room opened. The light from several tall candles shone dimly into the hall. She saw that she was surrounded by half a dozen dominoed masks.

"Bring in the prisoner," grated a harsh voice from within the room. Despite Marjorie's command of hands off, she was given a sudden shove forward which sent her roughly through the doorway and into the larger apartment.

Sureness of foot saved her from stumbling. Strange to say, she had now lost all fear of the company of masked figures in whose midst she stood. It had begun to enforce itself upon her that she had been hoaxed into visiting an empty house by those who had taken advantage of the masquerade to carry out their plan without undue notice to themselves. She was now certain that she was being hazed by students. She knew of only one group of Hamilton girls who would be bold enough to deliberately defy the strictest rule of Hamilton College.

The masked company were attired in black dominos; all save one who appeared to be a kind of sinister master of ceremonies. This one wore a domino of bright scarlet silk and a leering false face mask that was hideous in the extreme. The flickering flame of the candles added to the grim and horrifying effect. A girl of timid inclinations would have been sadly frightened. Marjorie was made of sterner stuff. She had experienced, briefly, actual terror when she felt herself seized and drawn into the house. She had now recovered from that and was righteously angry. She determined to assume contemptuous indifference, for the time being, preferring to allow her captors to play their hand first.

"Prisoner, you are now before the stern tribunal of the Scarlet Mask," announced the red dominoed figure in the same harsh guttural tones. "You have been guilty of many crimes and are to be punished for these tonight. If you obey my mandate you will escape with your wretched life. Disobey and nothing can save you. You are now to be put to the question by one who knows your treacherous heart. You will remove your outer wrappings and stand forth. Question." The red mask made an imperious gesture. A domino on the left stepped forward as though to lay hands on Marjorie.

"I shall not remove my coat, cap or overshoes." Marjorie's ringing accents cut sharply on the cold air of the unfurnished, unheated room. "If one of you undertakes to lay a hand on me you will be sorry; not only now but hereafter. I defy you to do it."

Standing almost in the center of the circle of dominos, Marjorie cast contemptuous eyes about the circle of maskers. She fully intended to defend herself if further molested. She was one against many, but she could at least fight her way to the window, tear aside the shade and pound lustily upon it, raising her voice for help. She was certain she was in the hands of the Sans. She knew they would not court exposure. They had reckoned on completely intimidating her.

A peculiar silence followed Marjorie's spirited defiance. It was as though the high tribunal were in doubt as to what they had best do next. With one accord their slits of eyes were turned on their leader. The domino who had been ordered to lay hold of the prisoner shied off perceptibly.

"Bring forth the charges against the prisoner." The distinguished scarlet mask suddenly changed tune. While the hideous face within the close-fitting hood glared fiendishly at Marjorie, the real face behind it wore an expression of baffled anger. The unruly prisoner seemed in possession of an inner force that forbade molestation. Then, too, she was unafraid and all ready to make a lively commotion.

A domino on the outer edge of the group came forward with a roll of foolscap, tied with a black cord. The cord impressively untied, amid dead silence, and the paper unrolled, the reading of Marjorie's crimes was begun.

"Prisoner, you are accused of untruthfulness, treachery and malicious interference in the affairs of others. It is not our purpose to detail to you the occasion of these crimes. These occasions are known to the high tribunal and have been proven against you."

"It is my purpose to demand proof," interrupted Marjorie with open sarcasm. "I am not untruthful, malicious or treacherous. I do not propose to allow anyone to accuse me of such things. I——"

"Be silent!" The Scarlet Mask had evidently lost temper. The command was roared out in a voice that sounded perilously like that of Leslie Cairns.

Marjorie gave a little amused laugh. She stared straight at the red mask with tantalizing eyes. "Were you speaking to me?" she inquired with a cool discomfiting sweetness that made the eyes looking into hers snap.

"Prisoner, you are insolent." The red mask was careful this time to speak in the earlier hoarse disguised voice.

"I mean to be. It is time to end this farce, I think. So far as treachery, malice and truth are concerned you, not I," Marjorie swept the tense, listening group with an inclusive gesture, "are guilty. Some one of you deliberately wrote me a lying note in order to get me here. Now I am here, but your whole scheme has fallen flat because I am not afraid. You thought I would be. I will say again what I said to a number of you on the campus last March: How silly you are!"



CHAPTER XXI.

LOOKOUTS REAL AND TRUE.

While Marjorie had gone on to the reception a la masque which had been prepared for her, Jerry had donned her infant costume in a far from happy humor. She could not get over her feeling of resentment against Anna Towne, though she knew it was hardly just. Twice during the progress of her dressing she picked up the note from the chiffonier and re-read it with knitted brows. There was something in the assured style of it that went against the grain.

"Where's Marjorie?" was Ronny's first speech as shortly after seven she flitted into the room looking like a veritable butterfly in her gorgeous black and yellow costume. "I am anxious to see her as a doll. I know she will be simply exquisite."

"She certainly looked sweet," returned Jerry. She paused, eyeing Ronny in mild surprise. Ronny had broken into a hearty laugh. Jerry as an infant was so irresistibly funny. Her chubby figure in the high-waisted tucked and belaced gown and her round face looking out from the fluted lace frills of a close-fitting bonnet made her appear precisely like a large-sized baby.

"Oh, I see. You're laughing at me. Aren't you rude, though? Ma-ma-a-a!" Jerry set up a grieved wail.

"You are a great success, Jeremiah." Ronny continued to laugh as Jerry performed an infantile solo with a white celluloid rattle. "Where is Marjorie? I asked you once but you didn't answer."

"Read that. Marjorie said I was to show it to the Lookouts." Jerry picked up the letter from the chiffonier and handed it to Ronny.

"How unfortunate!" was Ronny's exclamation as she hastily read the note. "When did she leave here? I am glad she put on her costume before she went. She can go straight to the gym, provided she isn't detained over there."

"She left here at five minutes past seven," Jerry answered. "I felt cross about it, too. It seems as though Marjorie is always picked-out to do something for someone just about the time she has planned to have a good time herself."

"What do you suppose has happened to Miss Towne? She was your freshie catch. It's a wonder she didn't ask you to go to her instead of Marjorie."

"Well, she didn't. I have tried to behave like a father to her but she doesn't seem to notice it," Jerry returned humorously. "You see they all gravitate straight to Marjorie. There's something about her that inspires confidence in the breasts of timid freshies."

"She is the dearest girl on earth." Ronny spoke with sudden tenderness. "Are you going out on the campus to parade? I am not particularly anxious to go."

"Then we won't go, for I don't care about it, either." A double rapping on the door sent Jerry scurrying to it. Katherine and Lucy walked in, arms twined about each other's waists. They were a pretty pair of school girls in their short bright gingham dresses, ruffled white aprons and white stockings and tennis shoes. Hair in two braids, broad-brimmed flower-wreathed hats and school knapsacks swinging from the shoulder completed their simple but effective costumes.

They came in for a lively share of approbation from Jerry and Ronny, of whom they were equally admiring in turn. Inquiring for Marjorie, they were shown the note and Jerry again went over the information she had given Ronny.

"That note doesn't sound a bit like Anna Towne," Lucy said in her close-lipped manner as she laid it down. "I know her quite well, for she takes biology and has come to me several times for help. She is awfully proud and tries never to put one to any trouble."

"This may be something that has come upon her so suddenly she hasn't known what to do except to send for Marjorie," hazarded Katherine. "I agree with you, Lucy. It does not sound like her."

Another series of knocks at the door broke in upon the conversation. "Wonder if that's Muriel." Jerry turned to the door. "She may have changed her mind about not letting us know what she was going to mask as."

The door opened. Jerry gave an ejaculation of undiluted surprise. The girl who stood on the threshold was Anna Towne.

"Come in, Miss Towne." Jerry stepped aside for her unexpected caller to enter. "Have you seen Marjorie?"

"Why, no. I haven't seen anyone except the maid who answered the door. I came over to see if I could go to the masquerade with you girls. Phyllis and a crowd of Silvertons went out to parade. I didn't care about it, so I thought I would come over here."

"Wha-a-t!" Jerry was almost shouting. Ronny, Katherine and Lucy were the picture of blank amazement.

"What's the matter?" Anna Towne flushed deeply. She did not understand the meaning of Jerry's loud exclamation. Perhaps she had presumed in thus breaking in upon the chums.

"Matter! I don't know what's the matter, but I am going to find out. Read this note. You didn't write that, now did you?" Jerry thrust the note into Anna's hands.

The room grew very still as she fastened her attention upon the communication, supposedly from herself.

"Of course I never wrote it." Anna looked up wonderingly. Almost instantly her expression changed to one of alarm. "There is no one living at 852 on our street," she asserted. "My landlady has not moved. I still live at 856. I haven't had any trouble. I came here dressed for the masquerade. I'm wearing a Kate Greenaway costume. See. She took the silk scarf from her head disclosing a Kate Greenaway cap.

"No one living there!" came in a breath of horror from Ronny. It was echoed by the other three Lookouts. "Then who wrote that note and what has happened to Marjorie?"

"I am going to find out pretty suddenly." Jerry sprang to her dress closet for her fur coat and overshoes. "Go and get ready to go over to that house, girls. One, two, three, four—We are five strong. Get your wraps and meet me downstairs. I am going to see if I can't find Leila and Vera. You had better wait for me here, Miss Towne. I'll be back directly."

Ten minutes later a bevy of white-faced girls met in the lower hall. Leila and Vera were among them. Jerry had met them just in the act of leaving for the gymnasium.