SOME GIRLS
Tom thought the fifteen-mile trolley ride to Fairview was an unusually
long one, but, as a matter of fact, it was soon accomplished, for he
caught an express, and about eight o'clock that night arrived in the
town where the co-educational institution was located.
"Now to find Phil's sister," he said half aloud, as he headed for the
college. He knew the way well, for he had been there several times
before in the previous spring, when his team played baseball.
"Hello, Parsons," a voice greeted him as he was walking up the campus.
"Where you bound for?"
The speaker was Frank Sullivan, manager of the Fairview ball team.
"Oh, I just came over to see what sort of a football eleven you were
going to stack up against us this fall," answered Tom easily.
"Not very good, I'm afraid," declared Frank. "We're in pretty bad shape.
Several of our best men have been hurt in practice."
"We've got a few cripples ourselves," said Tom. "Phil Clinton just got
laid up with a bad shoulder."
"Our half-back is a wreck," added Frank.
It is curious, but true, nevertheless, that most football elevens seem
to rejoice in the number of cripples they can boast of. The worse the
men are "banged up," the better those interested in the team seem to
be. It may be that they wish to conceal from other teams their real
condition, and so give the enemy a false idea of their strength. However
that may be, the fact remains.
"So you came over to see how we were doing, eh?" went on Frank. "Well,
not very good, I'm afraid. We expect to be the tailenders this season,"
which was not at all what Frank expected, however, nor did his friends.
But he considered it policy to say so.
"I didn't come over for that alone," said Tom. "I have a message to
Phil's sister. Say, how do you get into the female department of this
shebang, anyhow? What's the proper method of procedure? Do I have to
have the password and a countersign?"
"Pretty nearly. It's like the combination on a safe. The first thing you
will have to do is to go and interview Miss Philock."
"Who's she?"
"The preceptress; and a regular ogress into the bargain. If you pass
muster with her first inspection, you'll have to answer a lot of
categorical questions covering your whole life history. Then, maybe,
she'll consent to take a note from you to the fair damsel."
"Can't I see her?" asked Tom in some dismay, for he had counted on
meeting Madge Tyler.
"See a girl student of Fairview after dark? Why, the idea is
preposterous, my dear sir! Perfectly scandalous!" and Frank gave a fair
imitation of an indignant lady teacher.
"Well, I'll have to send word in," decided Tom, "for I didn't bring a
note."
"Do you know her personally?" asked Frank.
"Who--Miss Philock or Phil's sister?"
"Phil's sister?"
"No, I don't."
"Worse and more of it. I wish you joy of your job. But I'm off. There's
going to be some hazing, and I'm on the committee to provide some extra
tortures for the freshies. So long. Miss Philock has her den in that red
building on your left," and, whistling a merry air, which was utterly
out of keeping with Tom's spirits, Frank Sullivan walked away.
"Well, here goes," said Tom to himself, as he walked up to the residence
of the preceptress and rang the bell.
An elderly servant answered his summons, and looked very much surprised
at observing a good-looking youth standing on the steps. Tom asked to
see Miss Philock, and the servant, after shutting the door, and audibly
locking it, walked away.
"They must be terribly afraid of me," thought Tom, but further musings
were put to an end by the arrival of the preceptress herself.
"What do you want, young man?" she asked, and her voice sounded like
some file rasping and scraping.
"I wish to deliver a message to Miss Ruth Clinton," was Tom's answer.
"Who are you?"
"I am Thomas Parsons, of Randall College."
"Are you any relation to Miss Clinton?"
"No; but I room with her brother, and he was slightly hurt in football
practice to-day. He wanted me to tell her that it was nothing serious.
He also has a letter from his father, that he wished me to deliver."
Miss Philock fairly glared at Tom.
"That is a very ingenious and plausible answer," said the elderly lady
slowly. "I have had many excuses made to me by young gentlemen as
reasons for sending messages to young ladies under my care, but this one
is the most ingenious I have ever received."
"But it's true!" insisted Tom, who perceived that his story was not
believed.
"That's what they all say," was the calm answer of Miss Philock.
Tom was nonplused. He hardly knew what reply to make.
"You are evidently a stranger to our rules," went on Miss Philock. "You
must go away at once, or I shall notify the proctor," and she was about
to close the door.
"But," cried Tom desperately, "I have a message for Miss Ruth Clinton!"
"Are you a relative of hers?" again asked the preceptress coldly.
"No; not exactly," spoke Tom slowly.
"That's the way they all say it," she went on. "If you are not a
relative you can send her no message."
"But can't you tell her what I've told you?" asked the 'varsity pitcher.
"She may worry about her brother, and he wants her to have this letter
from her father."
"How do I know she has a brother?" asked Miss Philock sternly.
"I am telling you."
"Yes, I know," frigidly. "Other young men have called here to see the
young ladies under my charge, and they often pretend to be brothers and
cousins, when they were not."
"I am not pretending."
"I don't know whether you are or not, sir. It has been my experience
that you can never trust a young man. I shall have to bid you good
evening, though I do you the credit to state that your plan is a very
good one. Only, I am too sharp for you, young man. You can send no
message to Miss Clinton or any other young lady student under my
charge."
The door was almost shut. Tom was in despair. At that moment he caught
sight of a girlish figure in the hall behind the preceptress. It was
Madge Tyler.
"Oh, Madge--Miss Tyler!" he cried impulsively, "will you tell Miss
Clinton that her brother is not badly hurt. That is, in case she hears
any rumors. His shoulder is dislocated, but he's all right."
"Why, Mr. Parsons--Tom!" exclaimed the girl in surprise. "What brings
you here?"
"Young man, what do you mean by disobeying my orders in this manner?"
demanded Miss Philock, bristling with anger.
"You didn't tell me not to speak to Miss Tyler," said Tom slyly. And he
smiled mischievously.
"Miss Tyler--do you know her?"
"I am an old friend of hers," insisted Tom quickly, his confidence
coming back.
"Is this true, Miss Tyler?" asked the head instructress.
Madge was a bright girl, and a quick thinker. She at once understood
Tom's predicament, and resolved to help him out. Perhaps it was as much
on her own account as Ruth's--who knows? At any rate, she said:
"Why, Miss Philock, Tom Parsons and I have known each other ever since
we were children. He is a sort of distant relation of mine. Aren't you,
Tom?"
"Ye--yes, Madge," he almost stammered.
"His mother and my mother are second cousins," went on the girl, which
was true enough, though Tom had forgotten it. He did not stop to figure
out just what degree of kinship he bore to Madge. He was satisfied to
have it as it was. Miss Philock turned to Tom.
"If I had known this at first," she said, "I would have allowed you to
send a message to Miss Tyler at once. However strongly young gentlemen
may insist that they are related to my girls, I never believe them. But
if the statement is made by one of my pupils, I never doubt her. In view
of the fact that you have come some distance, you may step into the
parlor, and speak with Miss Tyler for ten minutes--no longer."
She opened the door wider. It was quite a different reception from what
Tom had expected, but he was glad enough to see Madge for even that
brief period. He followed her into the parlor, while Miss Philock passed
down the corridor.
"Oh, Tom, I'm so glad to see you!" exclaimed the girl, and she extended
both hands, which Tom held just as long as he decently could.
"And I'm glad to see you," he declared. "You're looking fine!"
"What's this about Ruth's brother?" she asked.
"It's true. He was hurt at football practice this afternoon, and he was
afraid she'd worry. I told him I'd bring a message to her, and also this
letter. It's from her father, about her mother. Will you give it to
her?"
"Of course. Isn't it too bad about her poor, dear mother? Ruth is such a
sweet girl. Have you ever met her?"
"I haven't had the pleasure."
"I wonder if I'd better introduce you to her," said Madge musingly. "She
is very fascinating, and--er--well----" She looked at Tom and laughed.
"Can you doubt me?" asked Tom, also laughing, and he bowed low, with his
hand on his heart.
"Oh, no! Men--especially young men--are never faithless!" she exclaimed
gaily.
"But how can you present me to her, when the 'ogress,' as I have heard
her called, bars the way?"
"Hush! She may hear you," cautioned Madge. "Oh, we have 'ways that are
dark and tricks that are vain,' I suppose Miss Philock would say. I'll
just send a message by wireless, and Ruth will soon be here. I think it
will be safe. Philly, as we call her, will be in her office by this
time."
Madge stepped to the steam pipes in the room, and with her pencil tapped
several times in a peculiar way.
"That's a code message to Ruth to come down here," she explained.
"It's a great system," complimented Tom. "How do you work it?"
"Oh, we have a code. Each girl has a number, and we just tap that number
on the pipes. You know, you can hear a tap all over the building. Then,
after giving the number, we rap out the message, also by numbers. We
just _had_ to invent it. You boys have ever so many things that we girls
can't, you know. Now tell me all about football. I suppose you will
play?"
"I hope to."
"And Phil--I mean Mr. Clinton, but I call him Phil, because I hear Ruth
speak of him so often--I think he plays half-back, doesn't he?"
"No; quarter," answered Tom.
"I hope to meet him soon," went on Madge. "Ruth has promised---- Oh,
here she is now," she interrupted herself to say. "Come in, Ruth, dear.
Here is a sort of forty-second cousin of mine, with a message about your
brother."
Tom looked up, to see a tall, dark, handsome girl entering the room.
Behind her came a rather stout, light-haired maiden, with laughing blue
eyes.
"A message from my brother!" exclaimed Ruth, and she looked at Tom in a
manner that made his heart beat rather faster than usual.
"Yes, Ruth," went on Madge; "but nothing serious. I'm glad you came
down, too, Sarah, dear. I want you to meet my cousin."
"I brought Sarah because I was afraid I didn't get your pipe message
just right," explained Ruth. "Did you mean you had company you wanted to
share with me, or that there was a letter for me? I couldn't find the
code book."
"It's both," declared Madge with a laugh. "But first let's get the
introductions over with," and she presented Tom to Ruth, and then to
Miss Sarah Warden, her roommate, as well as Ruth's.
"Phil has often spoken to me about you, Miss Clinton," said Tom. "In
fact, he has your picture in our room. It doesn't look like you--I mean
it doesn't do you justice--that is--er--I--I mean----"
"Better stop, Tom," cautioned Madge. "Evidently Ruth has played havoc
with you already. You should study more carefully the art of making
compliments."
"Miss Clinton needs no compliments other than unspoken ones," said Tom,
with an elaborate bow.
"Oh, how prettily said!" exclaimed Miss Warden. "Madge, why didn't you
tell us about your cousin before?"
"It's time enough now," was Madge's rejoinder.
"But what about my brother?" asked Ruth anxiously.
Then Tom told her, and gave her the letter with which Phil had entrusted
him. The young people talked gaily for some minutes longer, and then
Madge, with a look at the clock, said that it was about time Miss
Philock would be back to see that Tom had not overstayed.
"What a short ten minutes!" he exclaimed, and he looked full in Ruth
Clinton's eyes.
"Wasn't it?" she agreed. "However, I hope you will come again--that
is--of course you can't come here, but perhaps we--I--er--that is----"
She stopped in confusion.
"You're almost as bad as Tom was!" declared Madge, and there was just a
little change from her former genial tones. She glanced critically at
Tom.
"I expect to come over again," replied Phil's chum. "And I hope I shall
see you then, Miss Clinton--see all of you, of course," he added
quickly.
"It depends on Miss Philock," said Miss Warden.
"Will you be at the Fairview-Randall football game?" asked Tom.
"Yes," answered Ruth, for he looked at her.
"I shall see you and Madge, then, I hope, only it's a long way off," and
Tom sighed just the least bit.
Madge raised her eyebrows. She might be pardoned for considering that
Tom, in a measure, was her personal property, and now, the first time he
had met Ruth, to hear him talk thus, was something of a shock.
But she was too proud to show more than a mere hint of her feelings, and
Ruth was, for the time being, entirely unaware that her friend was a bit
jealous.
"Here comes Philly!" exclaimed Sarah Warden, as steps were heard
approaching. "You had better go, Mr. Parsons, if you value your
reputation."
"Yes," spoke Madge; "better go, Tom. Sorry you couldn't stay longer."
"So am I," was his answer, and once more he looked straight at Ruth. He
had thought Madge very pretty, and, while he did not waver in the least
in still thinking her most attractive, he had to admit to himself that
Ruth's was of a different style of beauty.
"I'm sure I don't know how to thank you for taking the trouble to bring
me this message and letter," said Phil's sister, as she held out her
hand to Tom. He took it in a firm clasp.
"It was only a pleasure," he said. "Next time I hope to bring better
news."
"Then there is to be a next time?" she asked archly.
"Of course," he replied, and laughed.
"Hurry, Tom, or Miss Philock may order you out," urged Madge. "You've
overstayed your leave as it is, and she may punish us for it. Good-by,"
and she held out her hand. Tom clasped it, but a careful observer, with
a split-second watch, might have noted that he did not hold it quite as
long as he had held Ruth's.
A few minutes later Tom was out on the campus, walking toward the
trolley that would take him to Haddonfield. His brain was in something
of a whirl, and his heart was strangely light.
"My! but she's pretty!" he exclaimed half aloud. "What fine eyes!
I--I---- Oh, well, what's the use of talking to yourself?" And with that
sage reflection Tom pursued his silent way.
Back in the parlor the three girls stood for a moment.
"I like your cousin very much, Madge, dear," said Ruth.
"I shouldn't wonder!" exclaimed Madge shortly, and she turned and
hurried from the room.
Ruth looked at her in some surprise.
"Whatever has come over Madge?" asked Sarah Warden.
"I can't imagine," replied Ruth, and then, with a thoughtful look on her
face, she went to her room.
"Humph! I guess I know," murmured Miss Warden, as she followed.