Marjorie Dean, College Junior

“All right. I will say it. Bess Walbert is a liar and you will find it out, too, before you are done with her. Besides, she is treacherous. If you were to turn her down for any reason, she wouldn’t care what she said about you on the campus. I have watched her a good deal, Les. She’s like this. She will take a little bit of truth for a foundation and then build up something from it that’s entirely a lie. If she would stick to facts; but she doesn’t.”

“She has always been square enough with me,” Leslie insisted.

“Because you have made a fuss over her,” was the instant explanation. “She knows you are at the head of the Sans and she has taken precious good care to keep in with you. She cares for no one but herself.”

“Oh, nonsense! That’s what you always said about Lola Elster. I’ve never had any rows with Lola. We’re as good friends today as ever.”

“Still Lola dropped you the minute she grew chummy with Alida Burton,” Natalie reminded. “Lola was just ungrateful, though. She has more honor in a minute than Bess will ever have. She isn’t a talker or a mischief-maker. She never thinks of much but having a good time. She hardly ever says anything gossipy about anyone.”

“I thought you didn’t like Lola?” Leslie smiled in her slow fashion.

“I don’t,” came frankly. “Of the two evils, I prefer her to Bess. My advice to you is not to be too pleasant with Bess until you see what her position here at Hamilton is going to be. I tell you she isn’t well liked. You can keep her at arm’s length, if you begin that way, without making her sore. If you baby her and then drop her, look out!” Natalie shook a prophetic finger at Leslie.

“We can’t afford to take any chances this year, Les. With all the things we have done that would put us in line for being expelled, we have managed by sheer good luck to slide from under. If we hadn’t worked like sixty last spring term to make up for the time we lost fooling with basket-ball we wouldn’t be seniors now. I don’t want any conditions to work off this year.”

“Neither do I. Don’t intend to have ’em. I begin to believe you may be right about keeping Bess in her place.” Natalie’s evident earnestness had made some impression on her companion.

“I know I am,” Natalie emphasized with lofty dignity. “Are you sure she doesn’t know anything about that hazing business? She made a remark to Harriet Stephens last spring that sounded as though she knew all about it.”

“Well, she does not, unless someone of the Sans besides you or I has told her of it.” Leslie sat up straight in her chair, looking rather worried. “I must pump her and find out what she knows. If she does know of it, then we have a traitor in the camp. Mark me, I’ll throw any girl out of the club who has babbled that affair. Didn’t we doubly swear, afterward, never to tell it to a soul while we were at Hamilton?”

“Hard to say who told Bess,” shrugged Natalie. “Certainly it was not I.”

“No; you’re excepted. I said that.” Leslie’s assurance was bored. She was tired of hearing Natalie extol her own loyalty. It was an everyday citation. “That hazing stunt of ours doesn’t worry me half so much as that trick we put over on Trotty Remson. I am always afraid that Laura will flivver someday and the whole thing will come to light. If it happens after I leave Hamilton, I don’t care. All I care about is getting through. If I keep on the soft side of my father he is going to let me help run his business. That’s my dream. But I have to be graduated with honors, if there are any I can pull down. At least I must stick it out here for my diploma.”

“What would your father do if you flunked this year in any way?”

“He would disown me. I mean that. I have money of my own; lots of it. That part of it wouldn’t feaze me. But my father is the only person on earth I really have any respect for. I’d never get over it; never.”

Leslie’s loose features showed a tightened intensity utterly foreign to them. Her hands took hold on the chair arms with a grip which revealed something of the nervous emotion the fell contingency inspired in her.

The two girls had arrived on the seven o’clock train from the north that evening. They had stopped at the Lotus for dinner and had reached the hall shortly before the beginning of the serenade. Leslie had been Natalie’s guest at the Weymans’ camp in the Adirondacks. Thus the two had come on to college together instead of accepting Dulcie Vale’s invitation to journey from New York City to Hamilton in the Vales’ private car, as they had done the three previous years. Since the hazing party on St. Valentine’s night, Leslie and Dulcie had not been on specially good terms. Leslie was still peeved with Dulcie for not having locked the back door of the untenanted house as she had been ordered to do. Had she obeyed orders the Sans would not have been put to panic-stricken flight by unknown invaders. While those who had come to Marjorie’s rescue might have hung about the outside of the house, they could not have found entrance easy with both back and front doors properly locked.

“I don’t know what is the matter with me tonight.” Leslie rose and commenced a restless walk up and down the room, hands clasped behind her back. “That music upset me, I guess. I wonder who the singers were. Serenading Bean and her gang. Humph! Nobody ever serenaded us that I can recall. I suppose Beanie arrived in all her glory this afternoon, hence those yowlers under her window tonight.”

“They really sang beautifully. Whoever played the violin was a fine musician. I never heard a better rendition of ‘How Fair Art Thou.’” Fond of music, Natalie was forced to admit the high quality of the performance, even though the serenade had been in honor of the girl of whom she had always been so jealous.

“I don’t care much for music unless it is rag-time or musical comedy stuff. Sentimental songs get on my nerves. I hate that priggish old ‘Hymn to Hamilton.’ I hope Laura got out of here without being seen.” Leslie went back to the subject still uppermost in her mind. “It was risking something to send for her to come over here, but I was anxious to see her and find out if anything had happened this summer detrimental to us. I didn’t feel like meeting her along the road tonight.”

“Oh, I don’t believe anyone saw her,” reassured Natalie. “It was after eleven when she left here. The house was quiet as could be. I noticed it when I went out in the hall before she left to see if the coast was clear. Not more than half the girls who belong here are back yet. Bean and her crowd had gone to bed, I presume. You wouldn’t catch such angels as they even making a dent in the ten-thirty rule.”

“That’s so.” Leslie made one more trip up and down the room, then resumed the chair in which she had been sitting. “Well, I’ll take it for granted that Sayres made a clean get-away. One thing about her, she will stand by us as long as she is paid for it. Besides, she would get into more trouble than we if the truth were known. That’s where we have the advantage of her. She has to protect herself as well as us. What I have always been afraid of is this: If Remson and old Doctor Know-it-all ever came to an understanding he would go to quizzing Sayres. If she lost her nerve, for he is a terror when he’s angry, she might flivver.”

“Don’t cross bridges until you come to them,” counseled Natalie. She was beginning to see the value of assuming the role of comforter to Leslie. One thing Natalie had determined. She would strain a point to be first with Leslie during their senior year. She had importuned Leslie to visit her for the purpose of regaining her old footing. She and Leslie had spent a fairly congenial month together in the Adirondacks. Now Natalie intended to hold the ground she had gained against all comers.

“I’m not going to. I shall forget last year, so far as I can. I certainly spent enough money and didn’t gain a thing. Our best plan is to go on as we did last spring. If I see a good opportunity to bother Bean and her devoted beanstalks, I shall not let it pass me by. I am not going to take any more risks, though. If I manage to live down those I’ve taken, I’ll do well.”

“I know I wouldn’t raise a hand to help a freshie this year,” Natalie declared with a positive pucker of her small mouth. “Think of the way we rushed the greedy ingrates! Then they wouldn’t stand up for us during that basket-ball trouble.”

“Put all that down to profit and loss.” Leslie had emerged from the brief spasm of dread which invariably visited her after seeing Laura Sayres. “We had the wrong kind of girls to deal with. There were more digs and prigs in that class than eligibles. That’s why we lost. I am all done with that sort of thing. If I can’t be as popular as Bean,” Leslie’s intonation was bitterly sarcastic, “I can be a good deal more exclusive. As it is, I expect to have all I can do to keep the Sans in line. Dulcie Vale has an idea that she ought to run the club. Give her a chance and she’d run it into the ground. She has as much sense as a peacock. She can fan her feathers and squawk.”

Natalie laughed outright at this. It was so exactly descriptive of Dulcie.

Leslie looked well pleased with herself. She thoroughly enjoyed saying smart things which made people laugh. It was a sore cross to her that after three years of the hardest striving she had not attained the kind of popularity at Hamilton which she craved. Yet she could not see wherein she was to blame.

Gifted with a keen sense of humor, she had tricks of expression so original in themselves that she might have easily gained a reputation as the funniest girl in college. Had good humor radiated her peculiarly rugged features she would have been that rarity, an ugly beauty. Due to her proficiency at golf and tennis, she was of most symmetrical figure. She was particularly fastidious as to dress, and made a smart appearance. Having so much that was in her favor, she was hopelessly hampered by self.

CHAPTER V – A LUCKY MISHAP

The serenading expedition of the next night was the beginning of a succession of similar gaieties for the Lookouts. As Hamilton continued to gather in her own for the college year, the Sanford quintette found themselves in flattering demand.

“If I don’t stay at home once in a while I shall never be able to find a thing that belongs to me,” Muriel Harding cried out in despair as Jerry reminded her at luncheon that they were invited to Silverton Hall that evening to celebrate Elaine Hunter’s birthday. “You girls may laugh, but honestly I haven’t finished unpacking my trunk. Every time I plan to wind up that delightful job, along comes some friendly, but misguided person and invites me out.”

“Stay at home then,” advised Jerry. “If that last remark of yours was meant for me, I am not misguided and I shall not be friendly if you hurl such adjectives at me.”

“Neither was meant for you. You are only the bearer of the invitation. Why stir up a breeze over nothing?”

“If you don’t go to Elaine’s birthday party she will think you stayed away because you were too stingy to buy her a present. We are all going to drive to Hamilton this afternoon after classes to buy gifts for her. Don’t you wish you were going, too?” Ronny regarded Muriel with tantalizing eyes.

“Oh, I’m going along,” Muriel glibly assured. “You can’t lose me. What I like to do and what I ought to do are two very different things. After this week I shall settle down to the student life in earnest. My subjects are terrific this term. I am sorry I started calculus. I had enough to do without that.”

“This will have to be my last party for a week or two,” Marjorie declared. “I haven’t done any real studying this week, and I owe all my correspondents letters. I feel guilty for not having done more toward helping this year’s freshies. I’ve only been down to the station twice.”

“They’re in good hands. Phil and Barbara have done glorious work. They have had at least twenty sophs helping them. It’s a cinch this year. Very different from last.” Jerry gave a short laugh. “Phil says,” Jerry discreetly lowered her voice, “that not a Sans has come near the station since she has been on committee duty there to welcome the freshies. I told her it didn’t surprise me.”

“I didn’t know Miss Cairns and Miss Weyman had come back until I happened to pass them in the upstairs hall,” Muriel said.

“They were here for a couple of days before Leila knew it, and she generally knows who is back and who isn’t. Miss Remson told Leila she didn’t know it herself until the next day after they arrived. The two of them came back together on the night we were serenaded. They simply walked into the house and went to their rooms. She didn’t see them until noon the next day.” It was Veronica who delivered this information.

“Did Miss Remson say anything to them on account of it?” questioned Muriel.

“No; she wasn’t pleased, but she said she thought it best to ignore it. It was just one more discourtesy on their part.”

“That accounts for our meeting Miss Sayres on the veranda.” Lucy’s greenish eyes had grown speculative. “She had been calling on those two. We spoke of it after she passed, you will remember. Leila said ‘No,’ they had not come back yet. We wondered on whom she had been calling at the Hall. While we can’t prove that it was Miss Cairns and Miss Weyman she had come to see, that would be the natural conclusion,” Lucy summed up with the gravity of a lawyer.

“I object, your honor. The evidence is too fragmentary to be considered,” put in Muriel in mannish tones. She bowed directly to Marjorie.

“Court’s adjourned. I have nothing to say.” Marjorie laughed and pushed back her chair from the table. “I’m not making light of what you said, Lucy.” She turned to the latter. “I was only funning with Muriel. I think as you do. Still none of us can prove it.”

“I wish the whole thing would be cleared up before those girls are graduated and gone from Hamilton,” Katherine Langly said almost vindictively. “I wouldn’t care if it made a lot of trouble for them all. Miss Remson has stood so much from them and she still feels so hurt at Doctor Matthews’ unjust treatment of her. I can’t believe he wrote that letter. She believes it.”

“I don’t see how she can in face of all the contemptible things the Sans have done,” asserted Jerry.

“She believes it because she says he signed the letter, so he must have written it. I told her the signature might be a forgery. She said ‘No, it could hardly be that.’ I saw she was set on that point, so I didn’t argue it further.”

“Excuse me for abruptly changing the subject, but where are we to meet after classes this P.M.?” inquired Muriel.

The chums had left the table and proceeded as far as the hall, where their ways separated.