Rowena cast a sidelong glance of triumph toward Nellie Simmons, which said: "What did I tell you?"

"We are," was Ellen's crisp return. "The game must be postponed."

It was an unlucky speech on Ellen's part. Miss Davis had entered the gymnasium only half decided upon championing Rowena's cause. The cool decision in the senior's tones angered her. "I hardly think that will be necessary," she retorted. "Three of the juniors are ready to play. Miss La Salle and Miss Lind can subst.i.tute for the others. The game will go forward on Sat.u.r.day."

"That is absolutely unfair," cried Ellen. "The juniors were extremely lenient with--"

"That will do." Miss Davis held up an authoritative hand. "Another word and I will report you to Miss Archer. Then there will be _no_ game on Sat.u.r.day."

Ellen did not answer this threat. Her head erect, color high, she walked from the gymnasium and straight to Miss Archer's office. _She_ had not threatened. She intended to act and act quickly.

"Miss Archer, I have something important to say to you," she burst forth on entering the princ.i.p.al's office.

"Sit down, Ellen. I am sure it must be. Don't tell me it is basket ball!" Miss Archer's lips tightened.

"But it is." Impetuously, Ellen poured forth her story. When she had finished, Miss Archer's face was not good to see.

"I'll attend to this, Ellen. You did right to come to me. There will be no game on Sat.u.r.day."

The following morning five girls received a summons to the princ.i.p.al's office that put fear into their hearts. When, one by one, they appeared, she motioned them to be seated until the last one had completed the line on the oak bench. Swinging in her chair, she faced them with: "There is an old saying, girls, 'Turn about is fair play.' Since you seem to have forgotten it, I am forced to remind you. I understand that you asked the juniors to postpone the first basket ball game of the season, due to the fact that your team was temporarily incapacitated. They did so. That in itself points to an adherence to fair play. Very well. Now there comes a time when the situation reverses itself. Having proved themselves honorable, the juniors have called for a like demonstration of honor on the part of the soph.o.m.ores. You know best what has happened. You have shown yourselves not only grossly ungrateful, but unfit to be trusted.

No one enjoys dealing with ingrates. One understands precisely what one may expect from such persons.

"During the year I have not been pleased with the various reports which have been brought to me concerning soph.o.m.ore and junior basket ball; particularly soph.o.m.ore basket ball. It is not long since I was obliged to interfere with soph.o.m.ore methods. At that time I stated that a repet.i.tion of such unfair tactics would result in the stoppage of the game for the rest of the year. I now declare the soph.o.m.ore and junior teams disbanded. There will be no more games between them this year. I have just one thing further to say. It is unfortunate that the innocent should be obliged to suffer with the guilty. You are dismissed."

A wavering breath of dismay pa.s.sed along the row of girls as Miss Archer p.r.o.nounced sentence upon them. Their own treachery had proved a boomerang. Dejection laid heavy hand upon four of them, as with downcast eyes they rose and quitted the place of judgment. But the fifth member of the disbanded team was not thus so easily dismissed. Far from disheartened, Rowena Farnham sprang forward, hands clenched at her sides, her face an angry flame.

"Who are you that you dare talk of unfairness?" In her devouring rage she fairly screamed the question. "You have disbanded the team just to please that smug-faced, priggish Marjorie Dean. You are not fit to have charge over a school of girls. I am ashamed to be under the same roof with you. I shall ask my father--"

"It strikes me that it is I who should inform your father of your outrageous behavior to me," interrupted Miss Archer in a stern voice. "I hardly believe that he would countenance such impudence on your part to one in authority over you. You may go home and remain away from school until I send for you. I shall insist on an interview with your father at the earliest possible moment in order to decide what is to be done with you."

"You won't have to insist on seeing him," sneered Rowena. "He will call on you this afternoon. My father won't see me abused by you. He will use his influence with the Board of Education. Then _you_ won't be princ.i.p.al of Sanford High School." With this furious prediction of downfall Rowena flung herself out of the office, confident that she had delivered a telling thrust. Not daring to return to the study hall she sped to the locker room, hastily seized her wraps and departed for her father's office in high dudgeon.

The brilliantly-colored account of Miss Archer's misdeeds which she poured into the ears of her too-credulous father sent him on the trail of the offending princ.i.p.al with fury in his eye. Less than an hour after Rowena had made her sensational exit, a very tall, red-haired, red-faced man stalked into Miss Archer's office with the air of a blood-thirsty warrior.

"Madam," he thundered, omitting polite preliminaries, "I am Mr. Farnham and I wish you to understand most emphatically that you cannot criticize my methods of bringing up my daughter. Though she may need occasional mild discipline it is extreme bad taste in you to cast unjust reflections upon her parents."

"I was not aware that I had done so." Miss Archer had risen to confront the slandered (?) parent. She met his angry gaze unflinchingly. "I had intended to send for you, however. Now that you are here we may as well settle matters at once. Your daughter--"

"My daughter has been shamefully abused," cut in Mr. Farnham majestically. "I regret that I ever allowed her to enter a public school. I shall remove her at once from it. The contaminating influence--"

It was Miss Archer's turn to interrupt in clear, cutting speech. "Allow me to amend your last statement to _her_ contaminating influence. Your daughter is a trouble-maker. I have borne very patiently with her. I cannot regret your decision to remove her from Sanford High School. It simplifies matters immeasurably."

Miss Archer's quiet, but intense utterance sent an unbidden thrill of consternation over the irate man. His bl.u.s.tering manner had not intimidated this regal, calm-featured woman. He experienced a sudden sense of defeat. Fearful lest he might reveal it, he cut his call short with, "My daughter will not return to school. Good morning."

Miss Archer bowed him out, feeling sorry rather than displeased with the big, bl.u.s.tering man whom fatherly love had blinded to his daughter's faults. She wondered when, if ever, his eyes would be opened. Under what circ.u.mstances would he awaken to full knowledge of the real Rowena?

CHAPTER XXVII-THE FIRST DUTY OF A SOLDIER

"And we can have the party in her room? Oh, fine! You're awfully dear, Mrs. Dean. We'll be there at two this afternoon. Good-bye." Jerry Macy hung up the telephone receiver and did an energetic dance about the hall.

"Training for the Russian Ballet?" asked Hal, as, emerging from the breakfast room, he beheld Jerry in the midst of her weird dance.

"No, you goose. I'm doing a dance of rejoicing. Marjorie's well enough to see us. We are going to have a party for her this afternoon."

"You are a lovely girl, Jerry, and you dance beautifully." Hal became suddenly ingratiating. "Am I invited to the party?"

"Certainly not. It's an exclusive affair; no boys allowed. You may send Marjorie some flowers, though. You've only sent them twice this week."

"I'll do it. What time is the party?"

"Two o'clock. Get them at Braley's. That's the nicest place." Jerry was obliged to shout this last after Hal, as, seizing his cap and coat, he raced out the front door.

Over two weeks had elapsed since the Thursday morning which had marked the downfall of basket ball. During that time, Marjorie had lain in her dainty pink-and-white bed, impatiently wondering if she were ever going to get well. But one thing had helped to make her trying illness endurable. Never before had she realized that she had so many friends.

Her pretty "house" looked like a florist's shop and her willow table was piled with offerings of fruit and confectionery sent her by her devoted followers. Every day the mail brought her relays of cheery letters, the burden of which was invariably, "You must hurry and get well."

And now the day of convalescence had dawned. She was able not only to sit up, but to take brief strolls about her room. Her faithful Captain had just brought her word that Jerry and the girls would be with her that afternoon. What a lot they would have to talk about! Marjorie lay luxuriously back among her pillows and smilingly patted a fat letter from Mary Raymond. "How I wish you could be here, too, Lieutenant," she murmured. "We need you to help us with our good time. Connie's coming over early to help Captain dress me in my wonderful new pink negligee.

It has ruffles and ruffles. I wish you could see it, Mary."

"_You_ are only playing invalid," laughingly accused Constance Stevens.

It was a little after one o'clock. She and Mrs. Dean had just finished arraying Marjorie in the half-fitted pink silk negligee that had been one of Captain's cheer-up gifts to her. "I never before saw you look so pretty, Marjorie," she declared, as she stepped back to view the effect.

"You ought always to wear your hair down your back in long curls."

"Just imagine how I'd look. And I so nearly a senior, too. Connie, do you suppose Mignon will come to my party?" Marjorie asked with sudden irrelevance.

"When I invited her to it she said she'd come," returned Constance. "You can't tell much about her, though. The day before Miss Archer forbade basket ball I saw Rowena stop her and walk into school with her. I thought it rather queer. She had said so much against Rowena after that night at Riverview."

"She is a strange girl," mused Marjorie. "I am not very sorry that Rowena Farnham has left high school. Judging from what you just said, it wouldn't have been long until they grew chummy again. Rowena would have found a way to win Mignon over to her."

In making this prediction Marjorie had spoken more accurately than she knew. Emboldened by her success in once more attracting Mignon's attention to herself, Rowena had planned to follow that move with others equally strategic. But before she had found opportunity for a second interview, basket ball had been doomed and she had ceased to be a pupil of Sanford High.

Being among the first to get wind of Miss Archer's decree and Rowena's exodus from school, Mignon secretly rejoiced in the thought that she had not been implicated in the affair. She had fully made up her mind to accept the invitation to play on the junior team, were it extended to her. When she discovered the true state of matters, she made haste to declare openly that had she been asked, nothing would have induced her to accept the offer. As for Rowena, she should have known better. After the shabby treatment she had received from Rowena, it was ridiculous in her to dream that she, Mignon, would lend herself to anything so contemptible. A few such guileful speeches to the more credulous girls caused Mignon's stock to rise considerably higher. Others who knew her too well looked wise and held their peace. Mignon alone knew just how narrowly she had missed falling into a pit of Rowena's digging.

Quiet Constance entertained her own view of the incident. It coincided completely with Marjorie's thoughtful opinion. "It's hard to part a pair of girls like those two," she said. "They have too much in common.

Between you and me, I don't imagine Mignon will stick to us very long.

She's not interested in us."

"No, I suppose she thinks us rather too stiff-necked. Oh, well, we can only do our best and let the future take care of itself. There's the doorbell, Connie. That must be Jerry. She told Captain she'd come over early. Will you go down and escort her in state to my house?"

Constance vanished to return almost immediately, but without Jerry. She had not come back empty-handed, however. A large, white pasteboard box bearing the name "Braley's" revealed the fact that Hal had outstripped his sister.

"Oh, the gorgeous things!" gurgled Marjorie, as she lifted a great sheaf of long-stemmed pink rosebuds from the box. Her pale cheeks took color from the roses as she spied Hal's card with a cheering message written underneath in his flowing, boyish hand. "He's been such a comfort! Just as soon as I get well I'm going to have a little dance and invite all the boys." Marjorie touched the fragrant token with a friendly hand.

"Laurie sent me some violets yesterday. Those on the chiffonier."

"He sent me some, too," admitted Constance rather shyly.