A Tea Dance
"There!"
Sim flung the bag of apples with desperate aim straight at Jessica
Darglan, who stood in surprised dismay near the doorway of her room.
"We're back! We got the apples for you. But don't ever ask us to go to
that orchard again. It's a _terrible_ place!" Arden almost shook her
finger at Jessica.
"I think you sophs are going a little too far in this hazing business."
Terry spoke firmly. "We tried to be good sports about it, but we might
have been hurt or killed--or something! Well, anyhow, here's your lamp,
and you have the apples. Come on, girls!" she finished a little lamely,
but a little defiantly as well.
The three frightened freshmen wearily climbed the last flight of stairs
to their room. Never had the sight of those three beds in a row seemed so
pleasant, so reassuring.
Terry decided to let her French go until morning. Arden and Sim thanked
their lucky stars they could go to bed with easy consciences. They had
nothing to prepare.
"But, Arden, what was it?" asked Sim as she began to undress.
"You haven't given us any idea," added Terry.
"For the simple reason that I can't," was the answer made after a moment
of thought. "It was all so sudden--and terrible--a rushing black
shape--something getting tangled in my skirt--twirling me down
and--and--around----"
"Whoosing, snorting, and sneezing like some giant of an old man with a
bad cold," finished Sim.
"Yes," Arden assented, glad to have been helped out.
"The orchard," murmured Terry. "Could it have been--a snake?"
"You're thinking of the Garden of Eden and Eve's apple, I guess," laughed
Sim.
"Oh, don't let's talk about it!" begged Arden. "Maybe it was--the wind."
"You know it wasn't," said Sim calmly.
"It may have been--for all I _know_," Arden said. "I'm going to bed and
try to forget it. College life should make girls brave."
The others followed her example but sleep was long in coming. Adventures
like the peril in the orchard called for pulling covers over one's head,
Arden remarked, and she did exactly that. Darling sleep came at last.
In the morning, at breakfast, the trio guardedly whispered to a few of
their friends something of what had happened, but the real secret they
kept to themselves. There were murmurs of wonder amid promises, exacted
and given, of silence. But the talk spread. The idea of three
freshmen--etc.--etc.--!
It was two days later, though, before an effect was produced. Then the
whole college was called to General Assembly, and the three in room 513
realized to what an extent gossip had traveled.
"Any stories which you may have heard about queer things happening in the
old orchard must be taken, well--conservatively, at least." It was the
dean speaking to the college students, who for once were all vitally
interested in her discourse. "There is not much danger of our upper class
students taking these things seriously. But in a college of this size,
stories travel with remarkable speed. It would not be to the credit of
Cedar Ridge to have such rumors spread on the outside. So we shall say no
more about it, except to remark that, apparently, our sophomores this
year are doing a very good job of hazing. It is to be hoped they will
remember where hazing ends and bullying begins." The dean's usually
austere manner suddenly melted into a kindly interest.
"She must have heard something," Arden whispered to Sim. "Do you notice
she doesn't say exactly what happened?"
"It's my guess," whispered Sim, "she doesn't _know_ exactly what."
The three girls were sitting together in the large assembly hall.
"Foxy old thing!" Terry spoke out of the corner of her mouth at Arden.
"I'd like to hear just how much she actually knows."
The dean had finished with the matter of the orchard. She swept her
glance over the faces raised expectantly to hers as she broached a new
and not unwelcome subject.
"The Sophomore Tea Dance will be held this year earlier than usual; in
New York, at the Hotel Chancellor. The committee, of which Jessica
Darglan, Margaret Everett, and Priscilla MacGovern are the active heads,
ask your support in their undertaking." A murmur of approval greeted this
announcement. "They have voted to give any funds they may raise to the
college treasury for the reconditioning of the swimming pool. I wish them
every success." This was a real pronouncement.
Then, gathering herself together and teetering on her toes as if, Terry
said, she was getting ready to jump, the dean dismissed her students.
"Wouldn't you just know they'd do something like that!" Arden was
speaking, as the three chums sauntered toward their classes in Bordmust
Hall. "Stealing our plan!"
"But we didn't announce it, Arden," Terry remarked. "That is, if you mean
we are to try for the thousand dollars reward for information about that
missing Harry Pangborn."
"That's what I mean."
"But we haven't done anything," suggested Sim. "Really, you know,
Arden----"
"Why didn't they give us a chance? I just know we can solve that mystery
if we have time. I'm sure of it!"
"Have you decided yet," asked Terry, "where you think you saw the
original of that reward-poster picture?"
"Not yet," Arden had ruefully to admit. "But I shall. And now those
sophs----"
"Well, more power to them if they can raise the money for the swimming
pool, I say," spoke Sim philosophically.
"Never shall I forget, scared as I was, the expression on the face of
Jessica as we flung the apples at her! It was almost worth the fright we
had," Terry ventured, to change the subject.
"I know what we can do, though, to get a little even with them,"
suggested Arden. "We won't tell, no matter how much they ask, just what
happened."
"All right, Arden, we'll do that. Now, don't let's talk any more about
it. I'm tired of the word orchard. I'd much rather talk about the tea
dance," Sim returned, arranging her books more comfortably. "Do you think
we can go?"
"Of course! Why not?" asked Terry.
"Well--boys, you know. We couldn't get any of our own friends from home
to come this far for us," Sim decided.
"You've been thinking about this dance, have you, Sim? Now, I never would
have thought that!" laughed Arden.
"Of course I have! I like dances. I've been thinking about this one to
such an extent that when I saw the notice on the bulletin board I asked
Mary Todd what about it, and she and Ethel Anderson and Jane Randall have
already written to their three brothers----"
"Oh, my! Has each one three brothers who are eligible for tea dances?"
gasped Terry.
"No--one each," went on Sim, laughing. "What do you expect? Anyhow,
that's how much I've been thinking about it!"
"That's quite a lot of thinking," Terry remarked, "for you, my little
one! I might say that perhaps you took a great deal for granted, but if
it works out all right, I'll be just as glad as you are. Did you have the
sisters send their brothers our pictures? That one of you in the school
play, Sim, dressed as an old man, is good."
"Don't be silly! Of course I didn't. Anyhow, as long as we pay for the
bids, those boys ought to be glad to go. They don't have to dance with us
all afternoon."
"Oh, stop, you two! Do let it go, as long as Sim has engineered it this
far. It will be fun, very likely. Russ Albono's orchestra is grand, and
we all have new dresses. There are more important things to consider,"
Arden decided. "We must get our hair and nails done and see about a room
in the hotel. I've never been there, have you? Think of going to a real
college tea dance in a big New York hotel!"
"I was there once on my birthday," Sim remarked. "My loving parents took
me to dinner and the theater. We stayed at the hotel a whole week-end. I
loved it!" She sighed, remembering.
"I hope you'll find it as wonderful this time," remarked Terry.
"Let us hope so," murmured Arden.
"Mrs. Malvern is to be the official chaperon. You must report to her
before the dance and after it is over, as you leave," announced Sim. "I
should think she might be pretty tired of answering the phone calls of
the girls to her room when they notify her."
"Really, Sim, how did you find out so much?" asked Arden.
"I asked here and there," Sim admitted. "I also found out that we are to
go to New York the afternoon of the dance, which is on Saturday. We don't
have to be back here at college until nine that night."
"Quite a bit of liberty--for Cedar Ridge," commented Terry.
"Oh, dear! Here we are at Bordmust, and we'll have to separate just when
the talk is getting exciting!" exclaimed Arden. "But as soon as you two
can, come back to 513, and we'll complete our arrangements, will you?"
she begged as they reached the grim building.
"Yes," nodded Sim and Terry.
Groups of students on the steps were discussing the dean's talk, the
coming tea dance, and the ever intruding lessons, which, dance or not,
must be endured.
Suddenly Sim saw Mary Todd.
"Have you heard anything, Mary?" she asked.
"No, it's too soon. Give them a few more days," called back Mary.
"Don't be so anxious, Sim," advised Arden. "You'd think we just couldn't
wait to find out about those boys."
"Well, I _am_ anxious. If they don't take us, I don't know how we'll get
there." Sim sighed, certainly a little downcast.
"Don't worry. We'll go all right, and probably make a big hit, too!"
Terry was climbing the steps now. "I'll think it out in Latin class. I do
some of my best thinking there."
"See you later!" Arden waved a hand, laughing. "I'm due at math, worse
luck!" and she hurried into the building.
Terry and Sim followed. They were already lost in daydreams of music,
laughter, lights, and gayety: the prospective coming dance.
"Say, listen, Sim," exclaimed Terry suddenly, taking hold of Sim's arm to
assure attention.
"What is it, darling?" joked Sim. "Got a better idea for our dance boy
supply?"
"No, nothing about that. But you know our Tom who got that mysterious
blow the other night?"
"Do I?"
"Well, I heard him telling one of the gardeners about it, and he was
laughing it off."
"Well, what's wrong about that?" demanded Sim.
"Sounded flooey to me. He said he merely tripped over a tree stump and
another stump cut his head."
"Maybe he did," Sim casually answered.
"And maybe he _didn't_," retorted Terry significantly.