Marjorie Dean, College Sophomore Part 20

"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 princ.i.p.ally 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 cla.s.s."

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 a.s.sailed 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 soph.o.m.ore 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 soph.o.m.ore 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 ill.u.s.tration in psychology! It was a deliberate attempt at r.e.t.a.r.ding action by a malicious irritating of the mind. I think I ought to cite it in psychology cla.s.s."

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 subst.i.tute 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 Sat.u.r.day 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 soph.o.m.ores 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 G.o.d-mother?"

"My b.u.t.terfly 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 ap.r.o.n, 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 'h.e.l.lo, 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' a.s.sociation, 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 b.u.t.terfly 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 st.i.tch in it."

The day before the dance the soph.o.m.ore 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."