Arden Admits It
The clatter of dishes and the clink of glasses vied with the chatter of
eager young voices as the girls began their evening meal at Cedar Ridge.
The dining room was brightly lighted, and each table, seating twelve
students, was fully occupied.
Arden and her friends began passing the food among themselves.
"Gold fish again!" announced Jane Randall as the waitress put a large
dish of creamed salmon in the center of the table.
"And boiled potatoes and beans," Terry added before that number of the
bill of fare was in evidence.
"What do you guess for dessert?" Jane asked Terry. "Library paste or
pie?"
Terry considered a moment, during which time Sim, on her left, held a
heavy white plate beneath her nose.
"Library paste--always on Tuesday," Sim finished, giving the college
slang name to cornstarch pudding of a pale yellow hue. "I could do nicely
with some extra food tonight."
"Good idea, Sim," remarked Mary Todd. "What do you say we raid the
kitchen later?"
"Fine!" agreed Sim. "We'll get Arden, Terry, Jane, Ethel, you, and me.
That makes a good-sized party."
"You come for us, Mary," Terry suggested. "Knock on our door when you're
ready to go, and we'll have a feast."
"All right. It's settled."
It was quite possible in that noisy room to be talking to one girl at the
head of the table while the girl at the other end knew nothing of the
conversation. So it was very surprising and equally diverting when
Elizabeth Kilmore, sitting some distance away from Terry and her chums,
announced forcefully:
"Gather round! I have some choice gossip!"
"Let's have it!" begged Sim. "Brighten up our lives a little."
"I got it from an upper-class girl who got it from somebody else who had
it from some other individual along the grapevine route," said Elizabeth,
"that a freshman has been arrested."
"No!" gasped two or three girls in a chorus.
"Never!" murmured others.
"Well, at any rate, she was seen coming out of police headquarters here
in town this morning. What do you make of that?" asked the triumphant
Elizabeth.
The girls looked at one another smilingly. Such exciting rumors did not
often come their way. It was fun to speculate on the fate of such a
student caught in the toils of the police. Ah!
Arden, as the echoes of this choice gossip went around the table,
maintained a discreet silence. She had not yet told her roommates of her
trip to town that morning, but she could readily understand, now, that
when they were back in 513 she would have some explaining to do. But, for
the time being, she decided to try to change the subject. So she remarked
casually:
"It was probably nothing. Lots of people in this town look like college
students. See how the natives try to copy our clothes."
"Always belittlin', Arden," remarked Terry. "Can't you let us enjoy the
scandal? Heaven knows things have been pretty quiet around here of late."
"If you ask me, more likely it had something to do with a minor traffic
violation," Arden continued. "You're all very silly. Please pass the
bread, Terry!"
Terry reached for the bread plate but, at the same time, shot Arden a
quick appraising look. Arden took a slice and innocently asked for
further plans of the night raid.
"We'll call for you girls in 513 about half-past ten--after lights are
out," Jane said.
The others nodded assent. The dishes continued their barrage of sound,
successfully concealing the plans from those not included in them.
As Sim had foretold, at the close of the meal large bowls of "library
paste" made their appearance. Arden's particular group decided to forego
it and make something else, later, take its place. Forbidden sweets were
always more tasty.
When the meal was at an end, the dean, suddenly and somewhat out of the
ordinary, signaled for silence by tapping a bell kept for that occasional
use at her right hand at the faculty table.
Immediately a hush descended over the noisy room. Miss Anklon arose and
stood teeteringly and frostily in her place, having pushed back her chair
to make room.
"A story has come to my ears," she began, "to the effect that a student
of Cedar Ridge was seen at police headquarters here in town today. It
seems incredible to me. However, I wish the girl who has allowed herself
to cause such a horrid rumor to circulate to come to me before
twenty-four hours pass and explain herself."
She gave the bell another "ding," and the conversational flood was at
once loosed again, but with new import.
So the dean had also heard the rumor. Worse and more of it!
Terry herded Arden and Sim through groups of chattering and surprised
girls, at the same time whispering:
"Arden Blake, you know something about this! Come upstairs!"
Arden nodded silently. Sim objected to Terry's bustling about and tried
to hold back. But Terry, well versed in the art of telling her friends
something without being overheard by others near by, soon had Sim
tractable and under control.
Safe in the sanctuary of their room, Terry started in.
"Well, Arden, what did you do this time?"
"Oh, don't be so smart, Terry! I didn't do anything."
But her face flushed.
"What do you know about the college student seen coming out of police
headquarters?" demanded Sim. "Come on--come clean, as the detectives
say--at least, in books."
"I know all about it!" calmly replied Arden. "I am that girl!" she
announced in her best stage manner. "I'll tell you all about it," and she
did.
"Are you going to Tiddy?" Sim wanted to know.
"I think not--little one," drawled Arden, still calmly but with firm
decision, as her friends could tell by the look in her eyes. When Arden
made up her mind, it was made up. "It would be useless to explain," she
continued. "Besides, I really didn't do anything."
"Well, if you're found out, it might just as well be murder--we'll all be
sent home," Terry decided.
"You're right, Terry," Sim agreed. "We ought all to leave for home before
we suffer the ignominy of being sent."
"Not tonight, at least," Arden temporized. "I may as well be hanged for a
sheep as a lamb. I say let's wait until something really happens.
Besides, I think it will be lots of fun to raid the kitchen."
"Do you think Tiddy has any real evidence?" asked Sim.
"Let's try to guess what we shall find to eat in the raid," said Arden
demurely.
"My dear roommate," laughed Terry, "you are, without doubt, a peer in the
art of changing subjects. But I do agree with you about the raid. We must
all wear tennis shoes and carry flashlights."
"Let's get our work done quickly, then," proposed Sim, "and wait, with
what patience we may, for Jane," and she swept her chums a bow in her
latest amateur dramatic rôle.
With unusual willingness, the three girls began to open their books, look
for pencils and paper, and soon the room was in silence as they labored
at their lessons for next day.