Marjorie Dean, College Senior Part 24

The whole figure had been smeared with very thick mola.s.ses and feathered. The feathers had come from one of the couch pillows, the slashed case of which lay on the floor. It was a decidedly discouraging sight. The three shocked, amazed women gazed dumbly at the damaged room.

"A band of savages couldn't have done much more," was Miss Remson's curt opinion. "You girls had better move into the room Miss Langly formerly occupied for the night. Your bedding will have to be found. It is in the house somewhere, I presume. It is too late to make inquiries about it tonight. There will be a searching inquiry tomorrow in this house or my name is not Miranda Remson. Such vandalism against another student! To say nothing of the damage done to the room! The rug is ruined by that white paint. A workman alone can remove the paint from the mirrors. Dear knows where the bedding is. Shocking, and disgusting!"

Seized by a sudden thought, Gussie went to one of the open windows and leaned far out. Presently she left the window and announced: "I think the bedding is on the ground under the windows. Please let Flossie and I go down and see. If it is there, we can bring it in at the back door, and up the back staircase. No one will see us. The mattresses are light.

I can carry them, one at a time. Flossie can carry the smaller pieces.

I'd rather stay in my own room tonight, if I can."

Flossie, meanwhile, had been engaged in gathering up the fly paper and putting the room partly to rights. Miss Remson having given a reluctant consent, the two freshmen went down stairs on the trail of the lost bedding. As Gussie had thought, there it was, under the windows from which it had been dumped to the ground.

The chimes had sung a silvery eleven and the wall clock ticked off half an hour more before a semblance of order settled down upon the outraged room. Miss Remson had long since left the two victims of the hazing.

"You know who did this?" interrogated Gussie, the moment the manager had retired from the room.

"T don't know, but I think it was Miss Walbert and some of her pals."

quickly returned Flossie. "What's the use of suspecting her when one can't prove a single thing against her? She chose a good night. Who can prove that she wasn't at the concert?"

"We can't," returned Gussie gloomily. "I wish I had just one little proof against her. I believe some of the team helped her. Alma Hurst dislikes me most. Perhaps she was mixed up in it. Miss Remson is going to call a meeting. It won't do any good. It will only put the hazers on their guard. One real bit of proof against Elizabeth Walbert would do more good than forty meetings."

CHAPTER XXV-THE PROOF

The real bit of proof was nearer her hand then Augusta had dreamed. Not until the following evening did she have time to take apart the sticky effigy of herself. Then she ran her fingers into the handkerchief bag to ascertain what had been used for stuffing. She withdrew her hand, clutching something of harder substance than lace collars and handkerchiefs. She looked at her find in amazement. It was a bracelet watch. More, it did not belong to either herself or Flossie.

The heavy gold back of the little watch was monogrammed with the letters E. A. W. Gussie's eyes lighted in triumph. Dexterously she picked open the back of the watch. She remembered that many girls had their full names written on a thin inside case, particularly if the watch were very valuable. There was more chance of a return in case of loss. Surely enough, on the inner plate appeared Elizabeth Walbert's full name.

Gussie had her bit of proof. In stuffing the handkerchief bag, the watch had evidently become unclasped and remained in the bag. In her hurry to finish and be gone the marauder had not even missed it.

Gussie's subdued shout of elation startled Flossie, who was writing a theme. A few minutes' talk and the two went down to Miss Remson's office, there to remain for some time. The manager had called a meeting directly after dinner that evening. She had asked every student present, separately and on honor, whether they had any part in the outrage of the evening before. Each had answered in the negative. She was naturally at sea. It was possible that the mischief had been done by outside students.

Gussie's information served to bring back Leila's warning of early fall against Elizabeth Walbert. Pledging both freshmen to secrecy, Miss Remson made a lengthy call on Doctor Matthews the next morning.

The ring leader in the mischief had gone to her cla.s.ses that morning feeling complacently secure. She had said "No" to Miss Remson's stern inquiry with an expression of utter innocence in her widely-opened blue eyes. A telephone call for Elizabeth at luncheon hour, requesting her to report at Doctor Matthews' office at two o'clock that afternoon caused her no great trepidation. She immediately jumped to the conclusion that Marjorie had at last reported her for the accident to the elderly woman on the highway. She had long since framed her defense, intending to place the blame squarely upon her accusers.

What she did not expect to see was a familiar bit of jewelry reposing on the president's desk. Possessed of a good deal of jewelry, and very careless with it, she had not, as yet, missed the watch. She owned two others, as well, and kept poor track of them. She had forgotten all about having worn it while upsetting Gussie's room.

Her memory was soon refreshed in a way that drove the color from her cheeks and took away her greatest prop, conceited self-a.s.surance. She tried to deny her own watch. Her name on the inner case merely added fuel to the doctor's wrath. Her complete downfall came with a burst of hysterical weeping, of which anger formed a large part. Pinned down to a confession, she did not hesitate to name her two allies. They were also sent for, and before they left the office sentence had been p.r.o.nounced upon all three. They were given the regulation seven days to pack and notify their families. They were also held for damage to property and ordered to make monetary rest.i.tution.

Gussie and Florence utterly refused to accept a penny from the three for their personal losses. Miss Remson, however, accepted a settlement for the damage done to the room.

With their departure went the last really pernicious element in Hamilton College. Elizabeth Walbert had been, if anything, more unscrupulous than Leslie Cairns. Lack of a certain sense of balance, which Leslie had possessed, had prompted her to enjoy a kind of malicious mischief of which Leslie would not have entertained a thought.

"Well, your last enemy has been routed in confusion, beautiful Bean. I just saw her depart in a station taxi. Guess she sent her car home ahead of her." Jerry came in from the campus late one afternoon with this pleasing information.

"Glad of it." Marjorie looked up from a translation she was making.

"She's to blame for my trouble with Miss Susanna, indirectly. She deserved expulsion. I felt sorry for the Sans, a little. I don't feel sorry for her. I think she was outrageous; worse even in disposition than Rowena Farnham."

Jerry agreed, glad to see Marjorie evince resentment against the disgraced junior. She realized that nothing save the utmost bitterness of spirit could have wrung that denunciation from her charitable room-mate. Jerry knew how deeply Marjorie felt the loss of Miss Susanna's friendship and wished she could in some way manage to set things to rights between them.

The more she thought about it the more she felt impelled to go to Hamilton Arms and "have it out" with Miss Susanna. It lacked only two days until May Day, when she definitely decided to go on May Day evening and plead Marjorie's cause. The fact that Miss Susanna had evidently not reported Elizabeth Walbert was to Jerry an indication of her leniency toward Marjorie. Jerry shrewdly suspected that the old lady would welcome a peace amba.s.sador.

On May Day evening, at a little after seven o'clock, she lifted the heavy knocker of the Arms and waited rather sheepishly for an answer to her ring. She had not the least idea of what she should say to Miss Susanna, provided the latter would see her.

Jonas greeted her with delighted surprise in his fine old face. "I'm so glad you came, Miss Jerry," he said. "She'll be glad, too. She misses the little girl, G.o.d bless her."

Jerry felt a slight catch in her throat at the words. They were precisely like two pathetic old children, she thought, who had lost a merry playmate. Jonas' prediction that Miss Hamilton would be glad to see her was verified. She shook hands with Jerry, then she kissed her.

Next she took out her handkerchief and wiped away a few tears which had welled to her eyes. Then the two sat down for a long talk. Jerry did most of the talking. Miss Susanna listened like a thirsty plant greedily absorbing water.

"It was all my fault," the old lady declared contritely. "I was upset by the fall, and crotchety. I wouldn't give my poor child a hearing. Worse, I didn't answer her letter. I was still provoked with her when I received it. Later, I came to my senses. But I haven't forgotten her. I have done something for her that she'll like. Just think! Two years ago she came here all by herself and hung that violet May basket! I have been happier since then. Now we must get back to our good times again.

If any of you simpletons of girls had come to see me before we could have straightened this snarl long ago."

Jerry laughed at this last. "It's true, Miss Susanna," she agreed, "we were simpletons. Leila spoke of coming over here once to me. I told her I would go, except I thought Marjorie would not like us to do so."

"I should have answered her letter. I wasn't fair to her. I am going to write her a little note this evening. Jerry, will you be my messenger?

This is Uncle Brooke's birthday, you know. Marjorie will like to hear from me tonight on that very account. You go into the Chinese room and talk to Jonas, while I'm writing it. That is his favorite haunt. He always reads his paper in there."

Jerry was quite willing to interview Jonas in the Chinese room. She loved the room and she thought Jonas the most interesting old man she had ever seen. She wished she could induce him to speak of Brooke Hamilton. She liked the idea of having some interesting bit of information concerning the latter to take back to Marjorie.

Being an exceedingly clever young person, she skillfully drew Jonas out to talk of the founder of Hamilton. He told her several incidents of his former employer's life that were of vivid interest. The most amazing bit of information she gleaned from Jonas, however, was the fact that the old man had attended the performance of both plays and the concert as well.

"Miss Susanna was anxious I should attend them," he explained, his face breaking into a crinkle of little smiling lines that Jerry thought beautiful. "But I should have gone to them, at any rate. Tell our Sunshine girl so for me. Tell her, too, that if she had lived in Mr.

Brooke's time she would have been his staunchest supporter and ally. Her interest in the college he loved comes second to his own."

The old servitor's deep voice echoed through the s.p.a.cious room. For an instant Jerry was seized by the eerie fancy that the departed Brooke Hamilton himself had been speaking.

When Jerry left Hamilton Arms it was nearly nine o'clock. Jonas insisted on accompanying her to the campus gates. Darkness had fallen and there was no moonshine until after midnight. Jerry carried with her the note and an immense round bunch of double, sweet-scented garden violets; these last, Miss Susanna's peace-offering to Marjorie.

"Oh! Um-m! How sweet!" Marjorie caught the fragrance of the violets the moment Jerry entered the room. She cried out with pleasure as she saw the perfumed purple blossoms. "Where have you been? Who gave you those perfectly lovely violets, Jeremiah?"

"Guess where I've been." Jerry advanced to the table where Marjorie sat with her books. She dropped the note and the flowers directly in front of her chum.

"Why, Jeremiah!" Marjorie cried out. First glance at the note and she had recognized that familiar fine hand. Such violets as those she now held to her flushed face grew only at Hamilton Arms. "I-I-don't see--"

she began. Then her curly head went down on the table, supported by one rounded arm.

When she raised it again two or three tears trembled on her long lashes, but a smile irradiated her face. "I wondered where you had gone, Jerry,"

she said tremulously. "Now I know. And you did it for me! I don't have to read Miss Susanna's note to know that everything is all right again.

I only have to look at these violets. Mr. Brooke Hamilton's favorite flower and today was his birthday! It's just two years tonight since I hung the May basket on Miss Susanna's door. She said after we came to know her that the violets that night seemed like a message from him.

Somehow I feel that way about these violets. He planted them and tended them. They are like a fragrant message of good will from him."

CHAPTER XXVI-THE CITATION

Before Marjorie saw Miss Susanna, who had invited her in the note to come to Hamilton Arms to dinner on Friday, another surprise was in store for her. She had paid no special attention to a notice which appeared on the main bulletin board the day after she had received the violets from Miss Susanna. It stated that a full attendance of students was requested on Friday morning in the chapel.