Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
Jane Allen: Junior
By
Edith Bancroft
Author of
"Jane Allen of the Sub-Team," "Jane Allen: Right Guard," "Jane
Allen: Center," Etc.
Illustrated by--Thelma Gooch
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I THE GET-TOGETHER
II A SHADOW IN FORECAST
III THE MISFIT FRESHMAN
IV THRILLING NEWS
V THREATS AND DEFIANCE
VI JANE AND JUDITH
VII A QUEER MIX-UP
VIII TO THE RESCUE
IX WHAT HAPPENED TO JUDITH
X THE INTERLUDE
XI A TWICE TOLD TALE
XII A WILD NIGHT OF IT
XIII THE AFTERMATH
XIV PLEADING FOR TIME
XV THE PICKET AND THE SPOOK
XVI THE HIDDEN CHAMBER
XVII "BEHOLD THE GHOST OF LENOX HALL!"
XVIII FAITHFUL FROLIC
XIX THE MIRACLE
XX TOUCHSTONE
XXI CRAMMING EVENTS
XXII STARTLING DISCLOSURES
XXIII THE DANCE
XXIV KING PIN OF THE FRESHIES
XXV THE DAY AFTER THE BIG NIGHT
XXVI A SURPRISE IN RECORDS
XXVII THE REAL STORY
CHAPTER I
THE GET TOGETHER.
The late September day waved back at Summer graceful as a child
saying goodbye with a soft dimply hand; and just as fitful were the
gleams of warm sunshine that lazed through the stately trees on the
broad campus of Wellington College. It was a brave day--Summer
defying Nature, swishing her silken skirts of transparent
iridescence into the leaves already trembling before the master hand
of Autumn, with his brush poised for their fateful stroke of
poisoned beauty; every last bud of weed or flower bursting in heroic
tribute, and every breeze cheering the pageant in that farewell to
Summer.
"If school didn't start just now," commented Norma Travers, "I
wonder what we would do? Everything else seems to stop short."
"I never saw shadows come and go so weirdly on any other first day,"
added Judith Stearns ominously. "I hope it doesn't mean a sign, as
Velma Sigbee would put it," and dark eyed Judith waved her arms
above her black head to ward off the blow.
"Is it too early to suggest science?" lisped Maud Leslie timidly.
"I've been reading about the possible change of climate and its
relation to the sun's rays going wild into space. I don't want to
start anything, but it might be judicious to buy more furs next
Summer. Also it might justify the premonitory fad."
"Don't you dare," warned Ted Guthrie, puffing beneath her prettiest
crocheted sweater and rolling down from her chosen mound on the
natural steps of the poplar tree slope. "It's bad enough to think of
icy days up here, far, far away from the happy laughing world of hot
chocolate and warm movie seats," and she rolled one more step nearer
the boxwood lined path, "but to tag on science, and insinuate we are
to be glazed mummies, ugh!" and the redoubtable Ted groaned a grunt
that threatened havoc to the aforesaid handsome sweater.
"There, there, Teddy dear, don't take on so," soothed Maud, rescuing
the other's new silver pencil that was rapidly sliding further away
from Ted with the pretty open hand bag. "I had entirely forgotten
how you despise ice sports. And you so lovely and fat for falling.
You should love 'em," insisted the studious Maud.
"Being fat isn't all it's----"
"Cracked up to be," assisted Judith Stearns. "I quote freely. That's
one of Tim Jackson's."
"Where have I heard the line before?" mimicked Theodosia Dalton,
otherwise Dozia the Fearless. "It has a chummy tone. All of which is
as naught to the question. Where is Jane? Never knew her to miss the
line up here. And I even tapped at her door. Judy, where is Jane?"
demanded Dozia.
"Am I my chum's keeper? Can't Jane attend to her own mortal baggage
without incurring the wrath of the multitude?" and Judith sprang up
from her spot on the leaf laden lawn. Also she cast a glance of
apprehension along the path where Jane Allen should at least now be
seen on her way. "Perhaps Jane feels we should forswear this moment
of mirth; being juniors and stepping aside from all the others. They
call it the Whisper you know; 'count of the whispering poplar
above," with a grandiose wave at the innocent tree. "But I would
much prefer a chuckle, wouldn't you Ted?"
"There you go again, or rather also," flung back the stout girl. "I
must take all the cracks and the chuckles and presently some naive
little freshie will amble along and ask me if I happen to be one of
the soap bubbles she just blew off her penny pipe," and the
pneumatic cheeks puffed out in bubble mockery.
"Now Teddy dear. Don't fret. Everyone is just jealous because you're
so lovely and comfy looking," appeased Nettie Brocton, the dimple
girl. "But I really do think this 'whisper' is awfully childish.
Rather makes the strangers feel we are whispering about them."
"If they only knew!" sighed Ted. "I am the usual back-stop for all
frivolity. But if it comes to giving up this lovely loafing hour
under our own grandmother poplar, I say girls, go ahead and knock,
but spare the whisper. I'd die if I had to go tramping around seeing
things and saying hello to that mob," with a sweeping wave of her
one free arm, the other was around Janet Clarke's waist.
"You are right, little girl, it is lovely to gather here and let the
others do the traipsing. And as for the whisper, anyone within sight
may also hear, for this is a shout rather than a whisper. The real
point is, we are gathered together while others are scattered apart.
But where is Jane Allen? I always look to her to start things, and
we can't stay here all day, alluring as is the grandmother poplar.
We have 'juties'; girls, 'juties'. "Dozia Dalton had risen to her
full height, which measured more feet and inches than her latest
kitchen door records verified, and her hair now wound around her
head like a big brown braided coffee cake, added a few more inches,
in spite of all the flat pinning Dozia took refuge in. It may be
attractive to be tall and slender, but somehow old Dame Nature has a
way of keeping her pets humble. She loves to exaggerate.
The girls were grouped around the gnarled roots of the big tree. As
had been their custom this contingent managed to escape the hum and
confusion of the "first day" just long enough to whisper hello and
buzz a few unclassified other words. Rooms and corridors were in
commotion; the campus was like a bee farm, and it was only over in a
remote corner, where a poplar and three hemlock trees formed a
protective fortress, that the girls were safe from the first day's
excitement.
"I left Jane heading for the office and her head was down,"
announced Inez Wilson finally. "She didn't see me and her head being
down, of course meant----"
"Trouble," finished Katherine Winters. "When Jane Allen goes forward
with her red head in advance there is sure to be a collision. What's
up? Who knows?"
"Come along and find out," promptly suggested Winifred Ayres. "Can't
tell what we're missing. Jane may have lifted the roof when she
raised her head."
"Poor old roof," commented Ted Guthrie, dragging Janet Clarke down
to earth again in her own attempt at rising. "I suppose we may as
well fall in line," she continued good-naturedly. "Janie is still
the idol of the mob; anyone can see that, even at this early date,"
and with a girl tugging on either side the stout one finally heaved
ahoy!
"'Tain't that," corrected Inez recklessly, "it's just because we are
all too lazy to do the things we know Jane will do. I have been
reading up on psychology, and you may now expect me to spoil every
dream of childhood with a reason why," and Inez threw her head up
prophetically.
"Alluring prospects this year," groaned Velma Sigsbee. "What with
Maud gone scientific, and Inez turned psychologist and Jane Allen
traveling with her head down--well, all I can say is I still take
two lumps of sugar in my tea." Velma was just that way, a pretty
girl who loved sugar in spite of restrictions, high prices and the
written word.
A solitary figure was now outlined against the low cedars curled
around Linger Lane. It was Jane at last.
"Here she comes! Here she comes!" announced Nettie Brocton. "And
look, girls! she isn't even whistling. Something is wrong with our
sunny Jane."
There was no mistake about it, something was wrong, for Jane Allen
swung along the path, calling greetings to friends grouped in knots
and colonies with an evident half heartedness foreign to her usual
buoyant, cheerful personality.
Espying her own contingent on the poplar slope she threw her arms
out in a reckless, boyish sort of gesture to give force to the
"Hello girls!" she called, but even that was much too mild for Jane.
"We were in despair," began Judith, Jane's particular friend and
school-long companion. "Janie dear, why the clouds? What's up? Let
us know the worst, do. We are fortified now, whereas in an hour
hence we may be weak from interviews with the new proctor. Sit down
Jane. We just rose to go in search of you, and by my new watch I see
there is still time before the hour to report. There," and the
little spot cleared for Jane in the semi-circle was now covered with
a pretty plaid skirt, "do tell us. You really look worried,"
"Not really?" contradicted the gray eyed Jane. "Worried, and on our
very first lovely day? You surely wrong me!" she tried to get her
arms around more girls than even finger tips might touch. "I'm
simply bubbling with joy, as I should be. I was detained in the
office longer than I wanted to stay, and you all know how mean it is
to have to sit on one particular chair facing the desk while a lot
of new girls ask a larger lot of foolish questions. Perhaps that
made me a little cross, but do forgive me. I wouldn't spoil this
initial hour for worlds. Please tell me everything in one breath. I
am just dying to hear."
No one answered. Ted Guthrie did gurgle a bit, and Velma Sigsbee
threw a handful of leaves in Nettie Brocton's hair, but the pause
was a riot. Why should Jane deceive them? Cross from delay in the
busy office indeed, as if she would not have bolted out and left the
whole room to the nervous new students! The girls looked from one to
the other and finally Judith Stearns saved the situation by
proposing that the juniors line up to help the seniors show
newcomers about the grounds. On this day at least, class lines were
forgotten at Wellington.
"We were just waiting for you Janie," she declared adroitly, "and
Mildred Manners has been whoo-hooing her lungs out across the
campus. Come along girls, and see you don't waylay all the
millionaires. I hear every garage in the village is bursting with
classy cars, and the livery stable can't take another single
boarder. Ted, you take Velma and Maud, and be careful not to divulge
any club secrets; Janet, you tag along with Winifred and just gush
to death over that timid little blonde who seems to have a whole bag
full of hand made handkerchiefs for weeps. Jane, may I have the
honor of your company?"
Judith's black eyes looked into Jane's gray orbs that asked and
answered so many questions.
"Thanks, Judy," said Jane aside. "You're a dear. Let's go and do the
honors."
The next moment Wellington grounds rang with shouts and laughter,
and the voice of Jane Allen defied the criticism her pretty face had
so lately invited.
"It's perfectly all right," she assured Judith, but the latter stuck
her chin out in contradiction.
"Can't fool me, Janie," she whispered between handshakes and
greetings. "But I'll wait till the picnic winds up. Did you ever see
so many new girls? Has some college burned down since last year?"
"No, love, but our reputation has gone forth. This is a glorious day
for Wellington and, Judy Stearns, it is going to be a glorious year
for us. We are still juniors!" and Jane trailed off to find her
place in the long line that was automatically forming around the
great old elm. An extension course in special work kept Jane with
her junior friends.
"Wellington, dear Wellington!" rang out the then famous strain in
hundreds of silvery voices. The college song was echoed from every
hill into every grass lined hollow, and if the new girls doubted the
spirit of comradeship they were to be favored with there, the
consecration brought it home to them, like strong loving arms
stretched out in the sea of school day mysteries.
It was hours later, when the pattering of feet in the long corridors
died down to a mere trail of sound, that Jane and Judith managed to
pair off for a confidential chat.
"You have got to tell me," demanded Judith.
"As if I wouldn't," replied Jane.
"You can't blame us for being curious, Janey. This afternoon was
almost a failure, just because your eyes had a faraway look."
"I'm so sorry, really, Jude. What an abominable temper I must have."
"We all know better than that girlie." Judy might now have been
charged with harboring a faraway look herself.
"Just give me a little time," smiled Jane, "and if there's anything
on my conscience I'll gladly transfer it to yours."
The look in both gray and brown eyes was suddenly changed to
intimacy. It was no longer faraway.