Leslie's first crafty move toward determining Dulcie Vale's treachery
was in the direction of Elizabeth Walbert. The latter had promised to
return the next week the twenty-five dollars Leslie had expended in her
behalf. Leslie planned to wait until she did so before making an attempt
to discover how many of the Sans' secrets Elizabeth knew. She was
certain that Elizabeth would return the loan promptly, as she received a
large allowance from home and as much more as she chose to demand.
To seek the self-satisfied sophomore's society was not what Leslie
proposed to do. She intended matters should be the other way around. She
could then take Elizabeth completely off her guard and find out more
easily what Dulcie had imparted to her.
Elizabeth also had views of her own regarding Leslie. The latter had not
been nearly so friendly with her since college had opened as she had
been during the previous year. Leslie had renewed her old comradeship
with Natalie Weyman, whom Elizabeth detested and stood a little in fear
of. Natalie had never been friendly with her. She had always held
herself aloof. Whenever they chanced to meet she treated Elizabeth as a
mere acquaintance. It was galling to the ambitious, self-seeking
sophomore, but she loftily ignored Natalie's frigidity. She had
complained of it once to Leslie and been soundly snubbed for her pains.
"You needn't expect much of Nat. She doesn't like you. That's why she
freezes you out. It won't do you any good to tell me about it, for Nat
is my particular pal." This had been Leslie's unsympathetic reception of
the complaint.
In her heart Elizabeth did not like Leslie. She resented Leslie's
domineering ways. This did not deter her from fawning upon the despotic
senior. She was depending on Leslie to help her regain a certain
popularity which had been hers as a freshman. She had cherished a vain
hope that she might be elected to the sophomore presidency. To her
chagrin she had not even been nominated. Determined to shine on the
campus, her thoughts were now turning toward basket ball. She was now
anxious to enlist Leslie's services in helping her devise a means of
making the sophomore team. As a senior Leslie could easily influence the
sports committee to favor her. Mae Lowry and Sarah Pierce, both Sans,
were on the committee.
It had been rumored that Professor Leonard and the sports committee had
disagreed; that the instructor had coolly advised the committee to do as
it pleased and dropped all interest in sports for that year. With him
out of the reckoning, nothing stood in her way provided Leslie chose to
favor her.
Her greatest ambition, however, was to belong to the Sans. She was
always privately wishing that one member of the club would drop out.
Leslie had once more told her that the club limit was eighteen members.
If anyone left the club an outside eligible would be chosen to replace
the retiring member so as to keep the number of girls at eighteen. She
had also tried on the previous June to arrange for a room at Wayland
Hall for the ensuing college year. She had been unsuccessful in the
attempt.
After leaving Leslie on the occasion of her mishap on Hamilton Highway,
she had realized her folly in showing spleen against her companion. She
resolved to offset it as speedily as possible. She wrote Leslie a note
which remained unanswered. She then telephoned the Hall, but Leslie was
out. Her allowance check having arrived, she had an excuse to go to see
Leslie. Her afternoon classes over, she set out for Wayland Hall one
rainy afternoon, hoping the inclement weather had kept Leslie indoors.
Her baby-blue eyes gleamed triumph at the cheering news that Miss Cairns
was in. As she ascended the stairs to Leslie's room, which was the
largest and most expensive in the house, her curious glances roved
everywhere. She wished she could see into the room of every student. Her
lips fell into an envious pout as she thought of her own failure to get
into the Hall. She would try again in June, on that she was determined.
Coming to the door of Leslie's room, she uttered a muffled exclamation
of impatience. A large "Busy" sign stared her in the face. She did not
turn and go away. Instead her surveying eyes took in the long hall from
end to end. Next, she drew close to the door and listened. She could
hear no voices from within. Leslie was evidently alone and studying.
With a defiant lifting of her chin Elizabeth rapped on the panel twice
and loudly. She listened again and was repaid by the sound of a chair
being hastily moved, then approaching footsteps. The door opened with a
jerk. Leslie stared at her visitor with no pleasantness.
"I came to return that twenty-five dollars." Elizabeth did not give
Leslie a chance to speak first. "I saw the sign on your door. I thought
I would knock, anyway. I've been trying to see you for a week to give it
to you. Why didn't you answer my note, or didn't you receive it?"
Leslie continued to stare. She was taken aback for an instant by the
cool impudence of the other girl. This was in reality the only thing
about Elizabeth that Leslie liked. She found the sophomore's bold
assurance amusing.
"Come in," she drawled, assuming her most indifferent pose. "I intended
asking you if you could read. I'll forgive you. I told you there was no
hurry about that money."
"What's money to me? Not that much!" Elizabeth snapped her fingers. "I
can have all the money I want to spend here. I simply happened to be
without it the other day. I won't stay. I see you are really busy
writing letters. It goes to show you can write. I thought perhaps you
had forgotten how."
Having delivered this thrust she busied herself with her handbag. "Here
you are; much obliged." She tendered the money to Leslie. "I must go."
She turned as though to depart.
"Oh, sit down!" Leslie tossed the little wad of bills on the table. "I
can finish this letter later. I have to keep that sign on the door when
I want to be alone. I'd be mobbed if I did not."
At heart Leslie was distinctly glad to see her caller. She had her part
to play on the stage of deceit, however.
"I suppose the Sans are running in and out of your room a good deal,"
Elizabeth returned enviously. "I wish I could live here. It makes me so
cross when I think of that Miss Dean and those girls living here and I
can't get in. There will be a lot of girls graduated from here in June.
I think I can make it next fall. What's the use, though. You'll be gone.
It is on your account I'd like to be here. I think more of you, Leslie,
than of all the rest of the girls put together." Elizabeth simulated
wistful regret. She had tried out that particular expression before the
mirror until she had perfected it. It was useful on so many occasions.
"Do you truly think as much of me as you say, Bess, or are you simply
talking to hear yourself talk?" Leslie carried out admirably a pretense
of sudden earnestness.
"Why, _of course_, I care a lot about you, Leslie." Elizabeth adopted a
slightly grieved tone. "Think of how _much_ you have done for me."
"Oh, that's all right." Leslie dismissed the reminder with a wave of the
hand. "I have a reason for asking you that question. I have one or two
other questions to ask you, too. If you are my friend, _and wish to
continue to be my friend_, you will answer them."
"I certainly will, if I can," was the glib promise.
"You can," Leslie curtly assured. "First, who told you about my having
received a summons to Matthews' office on account of that accident to
Langly last fall?"
"How do you know----" began the sophomore, then bit her lip.
"I _know_. There isn't much goes on on the campus that I don't know."
This with intent to intimidate. "I know who told you, for that matter."
"I promised I wouldn't tell. Still, if you say you know who it was, I
believe you do." Elizabeth hastily conceded, remembering her own
interests. "You won't let on that I told you?"
Leslie shook her head. "Trust me to be discreet," she said.
"It was Dulcie Vale," came the treacherous answer.
"I knew it." Leslie brought one hand sharply down against the other.
"What else has Dulcie told you?"
"About what?" counter-questioned the sophomore.
"That's what I am asking you." Leslie leaned forward in her chair,
steady eyes on her vis-a-vis.
Elizabeth experienced inward trepidation. Dulcie had told her a great
many things which she had promptly repeated to friends of hers under
promise of secrecy. Suppose Leslie had traced some bit of gossip to her.
She had heard that Leslie could pretend affability when she was the
angriest. She might be only using Dulcie as a blind in order to extract
a confession from her.
"I don't quite understand you, Leslie," she asserted, knitting her light
brows. "Dulcie has talked to me a little about the Sans. I never
mentioned a word she said to anyone else."
"That's not the point. I am not accusing you of talking too much. You
made a remark the other day which I took as an assumption that you had
been told about the summons. I knew Dulcie had told you. Dulcie has said
things to others, too."
"Oh, I know that." Confidence returning, Elizabeth was quick to place
the blame on the absent Dulcie.
"Yes; and so do I. It is very necessary that I should get to the bottom
of her talk. Some say one thing about her, some another. I thought I
could rely on you for the facts."
"I don't care to have any trouble with Dulcie over this," deprecated
Elizabeth.
"You won't. Your name won't be mentioned in it. All I need is the facts.
You will be doing me a great favor. If there is anything I can do for
you in return, let me know." Leslie had donned her cloak of
pseudo-sincerity.
"Oh, no; there is nothing." Elizabeth slowly shook her head. "I--well, I
wouldn't want you to think I _cared_ for a return." Her manner plainly
indicated that there was something Leslie might do for her if she chose.
"What is it you want?" Leslie exhibited marked impatience. "Favor for
favor you know," she added boldly. "I never mince matters."
"I am crazy to play on the soph basket-ball team. Do you think you can
fix it for me?"
"Surest thing ever. Leonard is peeved and has tossed up sports. Two of
the Sans are on committee. Is that all you need?"
"Yes." The wide babyish eyes registered a flash of gratification. "You
are so _kind_, Leslie. Thank you a thousand times. I know you won't fail
me."
"You're welcome. I'll fix it for you tomorrow. One bit of advice. Don't
play unless you are an expert."
"I am. When I was at prep school----"
"Never mind about that now. You go ahead and tell me what I asked you.
It is almost six and Nat will be here soon."
"Oh, will she?" The sophomore cast an apprehensive glance toward the
door. "Is she a very good friend of Dulcie's?"
"She's a better friend of mine," was the bored reply. Leslie was growing
tired of being kept from what she burned to know. "Please don't waste
any more time, Bess. We can't talk after Nat comes in. I don't believe
I'll be able to see you again before Saturday. I'm awfully busy. I'll
lunch you at the Lotus then. We'll use my roadster for the trip to town.
What?"
Elated at having gleaned from Leslie a promise of benefit to herself and
an invitation to luncheon, Elizabeth once more stipulated that her name
should be left out of the revelation. Again reassured, she proceeded to
regale Leslie with the confidences Dulcie had imparted to her at various
times. She talked steadily for almost half an hour. Leslie gave her free
rein, interrupting her but little.
"It's even worse than I had thought," Leslie declared grimly, when
Elizabeth could recall nothing more to tell. "Bess, if you know when you
are well off, you will never tell a soul what you have told me. Part of
it isn't true. Dulcie was romancing to you about that hazing affair. We
talked about it for fun, but that was all. Why, we were all at the
masquerade that night."
"Dulcie wasn't," flatly contradicted the other. "She had a black eye.
She said she was hurt at that house when----"
"Dulcie bumped into the door of her room that night with her mask on,"
interrupted Leslie angrily. "So she told us. If she was where she claims
she was, certainly we were not with her. This isn't the first foolish
rumor of the kind she has started. It's a good thing the rest of the
girls don't know this. They'd never forgive Dulcie for starting such
yarns. As for that trouble she claims we had with Miss Remson. There was
nothing to that, either. We have never exchanged a word with Remson on
the subject. I don't mind what she told you about the summons. The rest
of her lies! Well, there is this much to it, Dulcie is due to hear from
me and in short order."