Alone, Jane pondered seriously over the new aspect her problem had
assumed. Never had so absurd a story gained more prompt impetus—the
result, presumably, of well-laid plans, the work of Marian Seaton. In
her own generosity Jane would have made allowance even for her
proclaimed enemy, but the width and breadth, to say nothing of the
depths of this propaganda, were beyond her ken.
“Strange,” she reflected, “Marian always makes a confidant of someone
who, herself, is unlike our other girls.”
This “someone” was just now Dolorez Vincez, the South American girl,
obviously much older than her companions at Wellington, and certainly
of an entirely different social cast. Dolorez had made things
unpleasant for Helen on more than one occasion, although she seemed to
avoid openly meeting her. An unseen power operating against her had
been most effective.
“I must talk to Judy,” Jane decided. “No use my going woozy all alone.
Better have company,” she wisely decided.
“That’s the worse of an ankle,” Judith greeted her chum. “One can’t
take it along and leave it at home at the same time. There is mine now,
perfectly good for limping to the hard-working classrooms, and utterly
useless for hiking, dancing and sprinting. How’s the big game coming
on? Sit down, dear. I don’t need every cushion, and all the chairs.”
Jane dropped into the chair indicated by Judith, who still hugged her
ankle and “enjoyed” the ill health of its injured condition. As her
friends had predicted Judith was the recipient of much fudge, all sorts
of books, and even hot-house flowers, purloined from chapel. She had
been nursing the foot for some days, and took to it so naturally, Jane
feared for a reasonably prompt convalescence.
“Big game is coming along finely, but how is the foot, Judy? Won’t be
able to play, will you?”
“No, worse luck. But I can Ump or Referee or Coach—anything to be in.
Think of losing that straw ride out to Breslin! And I’ll bet a big
spread after it! Janey, put me down—quick for a couple of non-combative
jobs.”
“Of course, Judy, you will be along. And I must report progress on the
practice work, but I want to speak of something really serious.”
“Spare me!” Judith mocked her words with the usual funny grab at her
head. “I am not in a serious mood.”
“I don’t blame you, if you have emptied all those fudge boxes lately. I
should think you would be in a ruminative mood. But Judy, listen. It’s
about dear little Helen. Something must be done.”
“I know what must be done,” and Judith was instantly all serious and
attentive. “We should have hateful Marian Seaton expelled from this
college, as a trouble maker. Did you ever hear of one girl carrying
that sort of thing on through three mortal years, without paying for
it? I thought last year I sensed reform, but it was only a case of
latent or dormant activity. It has broken out now in so many places we
can’t keep track of them.”
“But Judy, we have no grounds to ask for her expulsion. She has not
done anything in absolute violation of the rules.”
“Exactly it. She always manages to cover her tracks. Well, what is the
particular new trouble?”
Jane reviewed Helen’s visit, and then told of the appeal made by
Clarisse. She included the fact that Helen had promised not to try to
leave Wellington, which was one point gained, and one of particular
importance.
“The poor little child,” sympathized Judith. “To think they have gone
after her like that! Would you think girls, claiming to be Americans,
could be so cold hearted?”
“I am not sure it is a purely American work, that is, North American,”
said Jane. “I rather suspect Dolorez Vincez is at the bottom of it.”
“Oh, that reminds me, Red Head dear. Look out for that Dolorez. She is
not what she pretends to be, and she is determined to steal our game
from us to-morrow, so that her side will have the big battle with
Breslin. I heard her say she would do it. Something about a little
trick up her sleeve. And even Marian warned her. It was the other
afternoon after practice—just as the girls carried me out. They—Marian
and Dolorez—spoke a trifle louder than they thought, where they hid in
the corner, sneering as I passed.”
“I don’t see what trick she could play.”
“Oh, no, that’s just it. We could not see. But watch her every minute,
and then the trick may pop out. She’s a wonderful player, by the way.”
“Marvellous. I never saw a girl with such strength. She is foreign of
course. That may account for it.”
“Also she is older. That, too, may account for it. It looks to me as if
friend Dolorez has had a lot of experience in basketball as well as
in—gossip.”
“But about Helen,” Jane reverted. “What shall we do? She insists I
shall absolutely say not a word to Mrs. Weatherbee, and yet the other
girls are all hearing the foolish stuff. First, it was that I had
adopted her. Then when that did not do enough mischief, they have it
she is demented. That she plays out in the fields at all hours, and
also that strange figures, like foreign men, haunt the campus, so that
these timid little friends are afraid to go out after dark.”
“Yes, I know. Since I have been invalided I have heard all sorts of
rumors. I have even had girls come to me and demand that she be asked
to leave college. These girls were not really spiteful, but they had
been worked up to such a state of fear by the other trouble makers.
Imagine anyone following Helen here!”
“Judith, I never told you what made me change my mind so suddenly about
taking the class presidency. It was that very afternoon of election, I
overheard a conversation that persuaded me. Then, when they carried me
off, and I felt if I followed my own sweet will, I would be abandoning
you, to that sort of influence—then I gave in.”
“Oh, I guessed that, Janey. And strange, I kept thinking all the while
that you would. We all wanted you so badly, it did not seem possible we
could be so sadly disappointed. But now, that you do hold the power of
influence, you see how useful it is. What shall we do about Helen?”
“I can’t bear to see the little freshies’ fun all spoiled after all
their hard work in putting together their great London melodrama,” Jane
said, “and I do not believe they will have any audience unless I make
some announcement about Helen. Yet—she would never consent, I feel
sure.”
“Then why not do it without her knowledge? It is surely the lesser
evil. I will do it, if you feel she might particularly blame you. She
never would suspect me of having sense enough to understand.”
“Oh, thanks, Judy. But what is to be done I shall do. But to advertise
Helen as the special attraction in the face of all this?”
“Exactly. That would make a tremendous hit.” And Judith fairly blazed
under the unfolding plan. “Don’t you see, Janey, if we say she will be
the star—the artist—the mad hatter or whatever else is her act, and if
half of the crowd have heard all these ridiculous rumors, they will
want to come to see—how wonderfully she does it.”
Once started on the new plan Judith roared on like a car with disabled
brakes. She simply could not quiet down. Jane shook her brilliant head
all in vain. Judith was wildly enthused. The prospect of such a
sensation as the freshman’s play with the “real thing” in it, was too
good to pass by.
“And then we will have a wonderful chance to prove what a good little
scout Helen really is,” she finally decided to reach a period for
breath.
“But, Judith. To exploit little Helen. Don’t you see how cruel it would
be?”
“Why, no, goosey, I do not. I think it would be more cruel to let her
go on here, under this cloud, when such a whirlwind will blow it to the
four corners, and evaporate it entirely. We have got to help her. You
have said that yourself.”
“Yes, I know, Judith. But it does seem to me—Oh, dear! Such a foolish
snarl. And to think it is making the best little girl in Wellington
miserable.”
“Not the very best. Here is one pretty good!” And Judith risked the
ankle in a loving limp over to Jane. “Lovey girl! I have not the
slightest doubt but you will make a glorious halo out of the seeming
smoky cloud. I can just about see Helen shining before this term is
over.”
“It is good of you to say so, Judith. You are my Guardian Angel, and
always have the right sort of cheer in stock. What troubles me most
just now is my own weak mind. I cannot make it up. I want to help the
freshmen, of course, and I want to help Helen! How to do both with the
one stone——”
“It simply is a case of pegging the stone hard enough. The aim is
perfect,” said Judith metaphorically. “Arrange a meeting as the
official sling shot—and—let—it go——”
“Why, Judith! One would think you were on publicity committee.”
“Well, sister, if you were shut in here from all the fun, and only
allowed out for the drives in forensics you would easily work up into
‘high’ yourself, and without extra gas either. I am all interested, not
to say excited. I am sick and tired of that Marian getting the best end
of everything, just because we are too goody-goody to fight her.”
“Oh, Judy, it isn’t that we are cowards——”
“No, I did not mean that, Jane. I know you would as soon lasso a wild
cowboy as shoot a basket. But it is all in the way we look at it.
They—the Marians don’t.”
Jane could not help smiling. Judith was pushing hard to win her point,
and the matter of mere words was inconsequential.
“But Judith, the real trouble is—we don’t know ourselves why Helen
acts—so queerly——”
“That has nothing to do with this crazy business. She is perfectly
sane, and sound as any girl here!” quickly defended Judith.
“Oh, yes, Judy. I do not mean on the matter of her health. I refer to
the way she is always—sort of hiding, and so afraid of strangers. Why
does she do that?” the deep frown of vexation clouded Jane’s pretty
face.
“Of course, Jane, that is queer. But we have her as our
special—friend,” Judith did not say “charge,” “and we are going to see
her through. I don’t claim to have more brains than you have, but I
just want to support yours. I believe we should agree with the
freshmen, assist them with their play, by notifying all the classes
that Helen the virtuoso, will play original music. This should put the
quietus on the gossip, and incidentally constitute a big ad for the
show.”
Jane rested her pretty head in her hands. Even for one schooled in
school troubles, the settling of this perplexity assumed baffling
proportions.
Finally she looked up with an expression of decision. Judith smiled
expectantly.
“All right, Judy. We will call the meeting and make the announcement.
Helen has agreed to take part in the play, and we have no
reason—apparently—to think she would object to having her part in the
program announced. Of course, I shall be careful to announce the entire
program.”
“Oh, you angel child! Woe is me that my ankle prohibits a jig!” and
Judith flung her arms around Jane—Jane regained in apparent happiness
and good nature.