A SATURDAY RACE
Ada had been watching the others with a contempt she made little attempt
to conceal. When her name was called she walked to the platform and faced
the leader defiantly.
"What can you do best, Ada?" came the familiar question.
Ada smiled patronizingly.
"Spend money," she said briefly.
"Do that," said the young leader calmly.
"How can I spend money here?" demanded Ada angrily. "There's nothing to
buy. I call that silly."
"Then you admit you can't spend money?"
"No such thing!" Ada stamped her foot, furious at such stupidity. "I say
I can't spend it here where there is nothing to buy. You let me go to
Edentown, and I'll show you whether I can spend money or not."
"The order of the first degree of the Mysterious Four is that the
candidate must do what she can do best," repeated the veiled figure
insistently. "What can you do best?"
"Sing," said Ada sullenly.
"Then do that."
And now the watching girls had what Bobby later admitted was "the
surprise of their lives."
The girl at the piano fingered a chord tentatively, then struck into a
popular song, an appealing little melody, the words a lyric set to music
by a composer with a spark of genius.
"I picked a rose in my garden fair--" sang Ada.
She sang without affectation. Her voice was a charming contralto,
evidently partially trained, and promising with coming years to be worth
consideration.
"But it withered in a day--" went on the lovely voice.
The girls were absolutely mute. When she had finished the song, and she
gave it all, they burst into a spontaneous storm of applause.
Ada barely acknowledged the hand-clapping. Her face had instantly slipped
back into the old sullen lines.
"When she can sing like that, shouldn't you think she would be perfectly
happy?" sighed Betty. "I'd give anything if I had a voice!"
As a matter of fact Betty had a clear little contralto of her own and she
sang as naturally as a bird. But there was no denying that Ada's voice
was exceptional.
After the last girl had had her turn the veiled leader mounted the
platform and threw back her swathing net.
"She's the president of the senior class, Mabel Waters," whispered a girl
near Betty.
"I have the honor to welcome you all as members in good standing of the
novice class, first-degree, Mysterious For," announced Miss Waters.
"That's all there is to the name, girls--when we decided to form a new
society here in school some one asked 'What's it for?' So our
organization became the Mysterious F-O-R, and you'll find out as time
goes on what the answer is. I might say, though, that happiness and good
fellowship and a little spice of sisterliness are what we try to
incorporate in the unwritten bylaws. And now I think Aunt Nancy has some
cake and ice-cream for us."
Saturday was a busy day for the one hundred and sixty odd girls who were
enrolled at Shadyside. Penance and pleasure had a way of marking off the
hours. Those who were good were allowed to go twice a month to Edentown,
chaperoned by a teacher, for shopping, moving picture treats, and such
other simple pleasures as the small city afforded. There were always a
number of girls sentenced to "within bounds," which were the spacious
school grounds, for minor sins of omission and commission. Bobby Littell
was usually among these. She was impulsive and heedless, and got herself
into hot water with amazing regularity.
"Bobby," announced Betty, one Saturday morning not long after the
initiation into the Mysterious For, "don't you think you could manage to
have a good record this coming week? We want to go nutting a week from
to-day, and if you have to stay in bounds it will spoil all the fun."
"I'll try my best," promised Bobby solemnly. "I never mean to do a
thing, Betty. Trouble is, I think afterward. I did want to go to
Edentown to-day, too, but Libbie and Frances have promised to get the
wool for my sweater. Want to come down to the gym? I'm going to drill my
squad this morning."
In the gymnasium they found Ada Nansen, also in charge of a squad.
"She flunked twice in French and was impudent to Madame," whispered
Bobby, who knew all the school gossip. "Mrs. Eustice canceled her
Edentown permit."
Ada frankly scowled at the newcomers. She had found the Littell girls
slow to overtures of friendship, and they persisted in displaying an
annoying fancy for the society of Betty and the Guerin girls, who, for
all Ada knew, might be what she described to her mother as "perfect
nobodies." So Ada and Ruth Royal gradually formed a circle of their own
to which gravitated the more snobbish girls, those who fought, openly or
covertly, the rule for simple dressing, and those who found in Ada's
characteristics of petty meanness, worship of money, and social
aspirations a response to similar urgings of their own natures.
"Well, Bobby, I'm glad to see you and your 'men,'" said Miss Anderson
briskly. "I was just saying to Ada that to-day is too beautiful to waste
indoors. I want you all to come out on the campus and we'll have a race."
Bobby's squad included Betty--who had refused to leave her chum--the
Guerin girls (who refused to go to Edentown because it was almost
impossible to avoid spending money for little luxuries and for
treats), Constance Howard and Dora Estabrooke, a fat girl who was
good-nature itself.
"We'll have to use elimination," said the teacher when she had her pupils
out on the green level that was back of the gymnasium and walled in by
tall Lombardy poplars planted closely. "Let's see, twelve of you" (for
Ada's squad numbered the same). "I think we'll number off first."
The odd numbers in each squad fell out and were matched, and the even
numbers were paired similarly. Betty's rival was a near-sighted girl who
delayed the next step because Miss Anderson discovered that she was
wearing high-heeled shoes.
"I don't care for those flat things," volunteered Violet Canby, as she
departed lockerward at Miss Anderson's stern insistence. "I have a very
high instep, and they hurt me."
Nevertheless, she had to wear them, and the physical instructor put the
others through a rigid inspection, but bloomers and sneakers were all
properly donned.
"Now," said Miss Anderson when Violet had returned minus her pumps, "try
to remember that it's just like a spelling match, girls; gradually we'll
narrow down to the two best runners."
The trial "heats" resulted in leaving Betty, Bobby and Norma of the one
squad, and Ada, Ruth and a girl named Edith Harrison, of the other.
Norma was paired with Ruth Royal, and at the signal they got away nicely.
Norma was an excellent runner, and she reached the tape fully three yards
ahead of Ruth. Something in her glowing, happy face, prompted Ruth to
resentment.
"Oh, well," she remarked disdainfully, taking care that her words should
carry clearly, "I suppose a farmer's daughter does a good deal of running
after cows--they ought to be in training."
Norma flushed scarlet.
"My father is a doctor," she said hotly. "I'm not a farmer's daughter,
but I know splendid girls who are--girls too well-bred to say a thing
like that."
Ruth walked away--she was out of the finals now--and Norma went back to
the starting place. She had not recovered her poise when the time came
for her to race Bobby, and that young person won easily only to be
outdistanced by Betty.
Rather to the latter's regret, she found herself the opponent of Ada for
the deciding race.
"Go it, Betty--beat her!" whispered Bobby, proud of her chum. "She and
Ruth Royal have dispositions like vinegar barrels!"
Betty had often raced with Bob, and she ran like a boy herself--head
down, elbows held in. She was running that way, against Ada, when
something suddenly shunted her off sideways. She fell, landing in a
little heap. High and sharp rose the shrill whistle of the starter.
"Are you hurt, Betty?" demanded Miss Anderson, running up to the dazed
girl and lifting her to her feet. "Ada Nansen that was absolutely the
most unsportsmanlike trick I ever saw. You've lost the race on a foul.
Betty was clearly winning when you tripped her."
"I didn't," muttered Ada, but she refused to meet her teacher's eyes.
"I don't want a race on a foul," argued Betty pluckily, for her skinned
elbow was smarting madly. "Let's begin over."
She had her way, too, and this time won without interference, though Ada
was so furious that Bobby was seriously concerned.
"She looks mad enough to put something in your soup," she told Betty, as
they went in to dress and have Betty's elbow attended to. "What is it,
Caroline?"
"Two young gentlemen to see you, Miss Bobby and Miss Betty," announced
the maid importantly. "They is waiting in the parlor. Mrs. Eustice says
you all should go right up."
In the parlor the girls found two slim, uniformed young figures who rose
like well-set-up ramrods at their entrance.
"Bob!" ejaculated Betty, her voice betraying her pleasure. "Bob, you look
splendid!"
Tommy Tucker glanced hopefully at Bobby.
"Don't I look splendid, too?" he asked.
"You're overshadowed by Bob," said Bobby mischievously. "However, when
not compared with him, I dare say you look rather well."