AFTER THE FRAY.
Closeted in one of the small rooms off the gymnasium, rescuers and
rescued told their separate tales of what had happened that evening.
Muriel was the only other girl at the private session they held. She
heartily mourned the fact that she had not been with her chums. Even the
glories of parading about in masculine attire faded beside the evening's
adventure.
"What are you going to do about it, Beauty?" Leila asked almost sharply,
when the affair had been thoroughly gone over from both standpoints.
Dressed as Finestra, a Celtic witch woman, Leila made a striking figure
in her white and green robes as she sat on the low wall bench, hands
loosely clasped over one knee, her vivid features alive with
disapproval.
"I don't know. Nothing, I guess." Marjorie smiled into Leila's moody
face. "It will scare them worse just to leave them in doubt as to
whether or not they will be called to account. I can't prove that those
dominos were the Sans, for I didn't see their faces. Of course, if I
accused them of hazing me, in making a report to President Matthews,
they would probably be summoned and put through an inquiry. In that case
some of them would be certain to weaken and confess."
"True," Leila nodded. "Dr. Matthews would be hard on them. He is so
bitterly opposed to hazing. It would stir up a great commotion. They
would be expelled. They ought to be," she added with force.
"Certainly they ought," concurred Jerry, "but who cares to be the one to
report 'em? I was thinking out the whole thing when we made our get-away
from that house. They don't know and they are never going to, unless we
tell them, who Ronny was or who did the howling. When they experience a
return of brains, for they certainly were rattled, they will naturally
guess that the surprise came from students. What they won't be able to
figure out is whether they were hazed by another crowd or by Marjorie's
supporters."
"They couldn't be sure that Marjorie would not leave word with some of
us as to where she was going," put in Lucy, "even though someone did put
that line in the letter asking her not to mention it."
"They must have had high ideas of her sense of honor," smiled Vera.
"I felt queer about telling the Lookouts, yet I believed it fair,"
Marjorie said quietly. "I am glad I did. And now let's forget it and go
and have a good time. We really ought to enjoy ourselves hugely, for I
doubt whether a single Sans will appear on the scene tonight. If they do
it will be late. I hope none of them were hurt in the dark," she added
charitably.
"Their fault if they were." Leila rose, her brooding face lighting
suddenly. "You have a most forgiving heart, Beauty. As for myself, a few
sound bumps will do them no harm. Make no mistake. Those of the Sans who
are presentable," she smiled broadly, "will get here as soon as they
can. All of them absent would be a grand exposé. Some must appear to
take the curse off the wounded."
At that very moment the members of the high tribunal of the Scarlet Mask
were engaged in trying to make themselves presentable enough to attend
the dance. A crestfallen and weary company of avengers, they had at last
made harbor at Wayland Hall. Miss Remson had retired early on account of
a severe cold. The dance having claimed the other residents of the Hall,
there was no one to mark the line of dominos which stole cat-footed up
the stairs. There was considerable repairing to be done both to persons
and costumes before the Sans could appear in college society. In that
mad scramble to leave the dingy house, which Leslie Cairns had rented
with so much satisfaction, there had been casualties.
Natalie Weyman's cheek bore a long disfiguring scratch, caused from a
too near contact with a fancy pin or ornament. A jab from someone's
elbow had decorated Dulcie Vale with a black eye. Leslie Cairns, who had
essayed to unlock the front door in the dark, declared resentfully that
she had received more kicks, thumps and bruises than all the others had
put together. Due to the fact that the whole party had worn flat-heeled,
black leather slippers, which had been purchased in the men's department
of a Hamilton shoe store, the casualties were less serious. Leslie had
insisted on this measure as a further means of disguising their sex. The
hazers had worn their masquerade costumes under their dominos, having
been told by Leslie that they would not be more than an hour at the
untenanted house. They could easily drop into the Hall and change
slippers on their return. It had been Leslie's private intention to
leave Marjorie there all night. Joan Myers, Natalie Weyman and Dulcie
Vale knew this. The others did not. Hence the objections which had
arisen, resulting in the quarrel that had been their undoing.
There was not one of the hazing party who had entirely escaped injury.
Tender toes had been trampled upon, jarring jolts administered, and
scratches and bruises distributed _ad libitum_. Leslie was outwardly
morose. Her inner emotions were too complex to be analyzed. They were a
mixture of hate, fear, baffled pride and humiliation. The cherished
scheme, concocted by her in the autumn, and on which she had spent so
much time and money, had utterly fallen through. Exposure and disgrace
stared herself and her companions in the face. Had not Marjorie
contemptuously called her by name? While she could not prove her
surmise, she could report the Sans on suspicion to Doctor Matthews.
Now that it was all over, Leslie realized bitterly that she and her
companions had behaved like a flock of demoralized geese. She had been
as badly startled as the others by the appearance of the bat-like
figure. She had recently read a very horrible tale entitled "The Bat
Girl." It had haunted her for several nights after the reading. Ronny's
clever imitation of a huge bat had momentarily paralyzed her with fear.
The unearthly shrieks, wails and moans had also served the purpose of
the invaders. Leslie sullenly wished her own plan had been half as well
carried out. It was all the fault of her pals. They were always
disagreeing. They never worked together. They never exhibited good sense
in an emergency. Leslie decided that they should bear the blame for the
fiasco. They would hear from her in scathing terms when she felt equal
to upbraiding them.
She had been the first one to reach the front door. Feeling for the key,
which was in the lock, she had fumbled it and dropped it on the floor.
As she had stooped to pick it up, she had been knocked to her knees by
the onrush of the others. Callously, she had struck right and left for
room to get to her feet. The key had remained on the floor. Knowing that
she could not secure it until the wild onslaught on the door had
stopped, she had tried frantically to make herself heard above the
hub-bub. It was of no use.
Presently the panic-stricken Sans had begun to understand her
hoarsely-shouted words: "Stand still. The key's dropped to the floor."
By that time the wails of the invaders had ceased and their footsteps
had died out. An odd silence had suddenly descended upon the Sans. Very
meekly they had obeyed Leslie's rude order, "Get out of my way," as she
had turned on a small flashlight and located the key. The door opened
at last, not a word had been spoken as the dominoed procession filed out
into the starry night. Leslie had stepped out first. Stationing herself
on the veranda, she had counted them as they passed, to be sure none
were missing. "Save your talking until you get to the Hall," she had
curtly commanded. "Down the street and hustle for the campus. Keep
together."
Bruised and sore, the avengers had again obeyed her without much
protest. Dulcie Vale had attempted a belligerent remark but had been
promptly silenced by: "You had better keep still. You are the person who
claimed she locked the back door. If so, how, then, did that mob of
freaks get in? I don't believe they had a key."
Leslie had not condescended to speak again until they had reached the
Hall. At the foot of the drive she had halted her party and given them
further curt orders as to their manner of procedure. Her final
instruction had been: "Get ready for the dance, then come to my room.
Wear evening coats. It is too late for dominos now. The unmasking is
over long ago. If you're asked any questions simply say we had a dinner
engagement before the dance; that we thought it fun to dress in costume
but did not care to mask. Now remember, that _goes_."
It was half-past ten o'clock before the entire eighteen gathered in
Leslie's room. Both Natalie's and Dulcie's facial disfigurements were
such as to prevent their attendance of the dance. Leslie laughed
outright at sight of Dulcie. "You _are_ pretty," she jeered. Dulcie's
wrath rose, but she swallowed it. She did not care to be taxed further
about the trust she had betrayed. Margaret Wayne had twisted her right
ankle almost to the point of sprain. Harriet Stephens had a lump on her
forehead, caused by a forcible collision with the wall. Eleanor Ray
limped slightly from having her toes stepped on. These five declined
stoutly to leave the Hall again that night.
"You can't very well go; that's flat," Leslie agreed. "I ought to stay
here, too. See that." She turned her back, displaying a large
discoloration on one shoulder about two inches above the low-cut bodice
of the old gold satin evening gown she wore. She had not troubled
herself to dress in costume. "That's what happened to me when you girls
knocked me down and tried to walk on me. It is up to me to go over to
the gym. I'll wear a gold lace scarf I have. This will hide this bruise.
All of you who look like something had better go with me. I don't know
what Bean will do. No matter what she tells or how far she goes, you
girls are to deny to the end that you were at that house tonight. No
one saw our faces. Who, then is going to say, positively, that she saw
us, either at that house or on the campus? If we all say we were _not_
the ones who hazed Bean, _and stick to it_, I defy the whole college to
prove it against us."