Upon returning to her room, Hilary was too wide-awake to sleep and
dropped upon the window-seat in the dark study room, drawing around her
Cathalina’s steamer rug which happened to be there. The wind was sighing
through the trees. She could hear the sound of the waves upon the beach
not far away, and another louder sound came from the lake as well, that
of some motor. “A boat or a plane,” thought Hilary, looking out through
tree-tops, “I believe it is a plane. Perhaps they are trying out the
hydroplanes though it is rather late for that.” Just then there came a
flash from where the shore line was located. “A search-light,” was
Hilary’s thought, but no steady sweeping light continued, only two or
three flashes. Hilary leaned out of the window, looked in all directions
and was rewarded by seeing dim flashes far down the lake. Two or three
times the signals were repeated, then no more.
For five or ten minutes, Hilary still sat by the window thinking over
the occurrences of the night, then went to the table where her own clock
was still ticking out the hours, so carefully watched that evening when
they were hurrying their lessons through. Flashing her light on its
familiar face, she read that it was one o’clock, yawning a little, she
stole gently back into her bedroom without waking Lilian, tucked a
comfortable pillow under her head, threw back her heavy brown braids to
a position where they would not annoy her, and was soon in a dreamless
sleep.
But Hilary had come to a decision while she sat looking out of the
window. Whatever it was in which Captain Holley was concerned, it was
evident that Louise was meeting him and was taking advantage of the old
tradition to play the ghost and make the girls afraid to go through the
halls at night. It was no single prank to be winked at. Miss Randolph
should know the whole story from beginning to end.
In the morning, therefore, the performances of the night were related to
an interested audience of three, as the girls of Lakeview Suite dressed
for breakfast, and Hilary said that she had determined to tell Miss
Randolph. “What do you think, girls?” she asked.
“You are right, Hilary,” said Lilian, without hesitation.
“Are you going to tell her about me, too?” asked Betty, “and the cave,
and everything?”
“Yes, unless you have some objection.”
“Not a bit.”
“I wish you would go with me, Cathalina, and I want to get Evelyn to
support my evidence about last night. I think it is our business as
seniors to stop this affair of coming and going at night.”
“Louise will be furious.”
“Louise isn’t any too safe herself.”
“I shall be glad to go, Hilary. I have felt like speaking to Miss
Randolph about several things before this.”
But it was easier to make a decision than to carry it out, where other
persons were concerned. Scarcely had Cathalina finished speaking, when
there came a quick rap at the door, and, upon invitation, Louise herself
came in. Looking from one to another, she saw knowledge written on the
faces of all and hastened to make her appeal. “Say, Hilary,” she began,
“you are not going to tell Miss Randolph, are you, about my playing the
ghost? Please don’t!”
“I made up my mind to do that very thing,” said Hilary, her face
flushing with the effort of doing a disagreeable thing. “I didn’t think
that you should be allowed to go on with this sort of thing.”
Louise burst into sudden tears. “I can’t see anything so dreadful about
fooling the girls!” she said, as soon as she could control herself.
“No, Louise, but I can’t feel that that is all there is to it. Now
haven’t you been out to meet your brother again? I’d like to know what
he is doing, too. It certainly looks queer to us girls that you find it
necessary to meet your own brother in this way, when he can come to see
you at any proper time. Have you a key to one of the doors?”
“It isn’t your business what I am doing!”
“No, but I fancy that it is Miss Randolph’s, if you are disobeying such
important rules. It is a matter of your own safety as well as ours. I
don’t intend to do anything but inform Miss Randolph. She can use her
own judgment.”
Louise wore an ill and sullen look, then realized what it would mean if
Hilary informed Miss Randolph, and began to cry once more. “I didn’t
think that you were such a mean girl,—to tell!”
“If I don’t, will you stop going out at night?”
“What good would it do for her to promise us?” inquired Lilian with
surprising bluntness. “We can’t sit up nights to see that she keeps her
promise.”
“Will you give me your key?” said Hilary.
Louise hesitated. “Y-yes,” she said, “if you will not tell.”
“Well, Louise, I’ve no desire to have you sent away, and I suppose that
is what would happen. If you will give me your key and promise not to
leave the hall at night, I will at least postpone telling Miss Randolph,
and see what happens. There’ll be no more ‘Woman in Black’ nonsense, of
course.”
“All right. I suppose I’ll have to do it. Here is the key.” Louise
handed Hilary a key, while the other girls looked at each other as if to
say, “Funny that she had it all ready like that.”
After the departure of Louise, Hilary sank into a rocking chair and
dropped her hands in a gesture of helplessness upon her lap. “Did you
ever!”
“Crocodile tears!” exclaimed Betty.
“Oh, her tears were genuine enough,” said Lilian, “and she got what she
came for.”
“I suspect I was a goose,” said Hilary, “but perhaps she will be good,
and I hate to tell things that will send a girl away from Greycliff.”
“Perhaps Evelyn will tell,” suggested Betty.
“Louise is probably there now,” said Lilian.
Sure enough, Evelyn came in a few minutes before the breakfast bell to
ask if Louise had been there. “She wept and carried on till I didn’t
know what to do with her, and begged me not to tell any of the teachers.
I was so provoked with her that I wouldn’t promise, but finally said
that I would do whatever Hilary thought best. You ought to have seen the
funny little smile she had when I said that. She just said, ‘Very well,’
and pretended to go out in a bad humor, but I could tell that she
thought it would be all right.”
“We’ll just let it go a while, Evelyn, and see. I didn’t promise _never_
to tell.”
On the bulletin board, as the girls went to breakfast, there had already
been put up notices of a senior class meeting, a “short meeting” of the
Whittier Society, and regular basket-ball practice.
“You will have to have some one else take the minutes, Cathalina,” said
Hilary, “for I can’t miss the practice.”
“Of course not. My, I’m glad that you are playing this year, Hilary. Now
we shall be sure to win the tournament. It was terrible that we lost
that time when you did not play. Of course we can beat the academy
classes and I’m not afraid of the juniors now. Do you remember how
nearly we came to winning that first year?”
“Indeed I do. How we worked! This will be my last year to play, though.
Oh, of course, little games, perhaps, but I mean in competitive games of
any consequence. We are getting in pretty good trim. You ought to see
Juliet and Pauline make baskets. They almost never miss, if they have
any kind of a chance.”
“It is only a few days until the big affair comes off.”
“Yes,—that was one reason why I didn’t want to have any trouble about
Louise. I want to keep fit. I don’t feel any too lively today after last
night’s late hours.”
“Cut your last class this morning and take a little nap before lunch.
I’ll wake you up.”
“Oh, no! I’ll get through all right. I’ll get to bed early.”
For the next few days basket-ball was the chief topic of conversation at
Greycliff. All the teams were “getting into shape,” as they said, and
all the other girls were watching practice or inquiring about it and
trying to prove that their class had the best team in school. “Time will
tell,” said Hilary. “I’m glad we have a referee that is so strict about
the rules. If we win, it will be a real victory.” Hilary was captain
again.
“I declare, I don’t know which class I want to win,” said Isabel. “Of
course, I want my own class to beat, but here are all your Psyche Club
and Whittier chums in the senior class. Class spirit, however, is the
thing in the tournaments,—hurrah for the junior collegiates!”
“I remember your leading the yells, Isabel, for the junior academy class
at our first tournament. It was too funny. Avalon led the singing. Who
would have thought that such a little mouse as she seemed at first would
be so lively? I suppose that the academy girls will make as much noise
as we did.”
“Are you going over for the Academy Tournament tonight?” asked Isabel.
There had been a meeting of the Psyche Club at the “Olympic Portal” and
the girls were chatting on after adjournment.
“Yes, indeed,” replied Hilary. “We want to see what our opponents can
do, also get into the spirit of the game. All of us that are on the
teams are going, and I guess that the other girls in our suite are
going, aren’t you?” Hilary turned toward Cathalina and Betty, who stood
near. “I know that Lilian is.”
“Aren’t we what?” asked Betty.
“Going to the Academy Tournament tonight. Old Hilary says that she wants
to see _her_ opponents, as if she were sure that it will be the _senior_
collegiate that will play the winning academy class.” Thus Isabel.
“Too bad, Isabel, that you are a junior and can’t conscientiously root
for us.”
“She talks as if I wanted to,” and Isabel turned to Virgie in pretended
indignation.
There was great fun in the gymnasium that night. “Susan’s Band” had been
revived and marched in between games with much playing upon combs,
triangles and other difficult instruments. Four different classes had
their class songs, class yells and unrepressed enthusiasms. Miss
Randolph, who was present from a sense of duty, fairly put her hands
over her ears as applause mingled with the closing strains and clashes
from “Susan’s Band.” This was a longer performance than the contest
between the junior and senior collegiates would be. That was to take
place in a few days, provided no accident to the chief performers
occurred tonight, to postpone the event of the contest between the
winning academy team and that of the collegiates. But it was best to
have the collegiates meet in battle early, for they too, might need time
for recovery.
It was always determined by lot how the classes were to play. This time
the freshmen, academy, met the sophomores and defeated them in a close
game. The seniors and juniors played against each other, the juniors
defeated. Both games were exciting, the scores nearly even. But the last
game, between the excited little freshmen and the seniors was easily won
by the senior class, with a score rather humiliating to the freshmen,
but on the whole they were pleased to have been in the final game at
all.
“It will be the seniors against seniors,” whispered Pauline to Juliet,
who smiled at her and said, “Mayhap it will.”
Several days later, the gymnasium was again the scene of a real contest
between the two collegiate classes. The seats were full of interested
spectators from all the classes, academy and collegiate. Many of the
teachers were there and some of the faculty wives who lived at Greycliff
Heights. There was no uproar, the two classes contenting themselves with
a few yells given at especially appropriate times, and the more
dignified class songs of the upper classes, if any of the class songs
can be called such at all. Very little nervousness, if any, was shown by
either team at first, and the game began with much skill in evidence.
Hilary’s forces began with success in getting the ball, and keeping it
against much interference; the seniors made one basket after another,
and the score was all in their favor. Then luck turned. Calamity of
calamities, it was Juliet who fumbled and lost the ball to a junior, who
tossed it some distance to a girl under their basket,—into which it went
in a jiffy. After the ball was tossed, the juniors were again in
possession. How the senior girls worked to get a chance once more, and
when one of the juniors missed a basket it was a senior girl who
captured the ball. Fast and furious waxed the efforts. For some time
nobody could make a basket for the successful interference of opposing
forces. But at last it was the senior class which was victorious, and as
Pauline had said, it would be the seniors against the seniors in the
final tournament.
The greatest interest, perhaps, centered in the first tournaments, for
the academy classes were more interested in beating each other than in
trying to win over the collegiates, while the senior and junior
collegiates felt more eagerness to win from each other. However, at the
last tournament the collegiate class always felt that they would be
disgraced if beaten by the academy, a thing which rarely happened. The
academy class which won in the academy tournament felt, moreover, that
they must at least have a respectable score, and make it as hard as
possible for their opponents to win. Then there was always the
_possibility_ of victory.
The senior academy of this year was especially good. Their team was made
up of experienced players; their captain was a girl of good judgment and
ability.
“Now, girls,” said Captain Hilary, “don’t imagine that we have already
won this game. It may be close however. Remember how well these girls
play. I feel sure that we can win if we are not over-confident and think
that we need not play our best. Remember to keep your wits about you and
feel that the game depends on how well each of you plays. I don’t think
that this other team will try anything but straight, clean basket-ball,
and let us be as careful. Look out that your interference is within
rules.”
The senior collegiates had a little advantage over the other team in
poise, but the academy girls were fast and eager. The game began under
the close attention of a very much interested audience composed of the
whole school, teachers, and as many visitors as the collegiate contest
had boasted. The shrill whistle of the referee sounded “ever and anon,”
as Isabel said to Cathalina, next to whom she sat, with a firm grip on
Cathalina’s hand, which she clutched in her excitement. Cathalina said
afterward that she could have shut her eyes and known how the game was
going from Isabel’s grip and exclamations. This time, as a collegiate,
Isabel had her heart with Hilary’s team. Isabel had grown out of the
noisy period, but in tones loud enough to be heard by Cathalina, and by
Virgie, on the other side of her, Isabel’s conversation ran on with the
game. “O, _get_ the ball, Hilary! That’s fine. Oh, mercy, she is going
to try the basket herself instead of giving it to Pauline—she never can
make it at that distance!” Quick withdrawal of Isabel’s hand from
Cathalina’s, as with the rest of the audience she applauded Hilary’s
placing the ball in the basket from an awkward position. “That was
_great_! A few more plays like that—sakes, we’ve lost the ball now. How
in the world did that happen! That guard ought not to have been there!
Good work, Juliet. Another basket! For pity’s sake, keep the ball.
Pshaw, what a fumble! Jump for it girlie. There,—our ball. Good play.
But they are pretty good at keeping our girls from making a basket.
‘Toot-toot,’ time’s up.”
Cathalina turned laughing to Isabel. “You need a rest as much as the
team, Isabel. Virgie, did you ever see anybody as tense? I begin to get
that way, too, but I don’t dare; it makes me almost sick.”
Virginia assented. “I have to hold myself in hand, too, but it doesn’t
make Isabel sick. She thrives on excitement. She will go right to sleep
tonight, while I will be seeing the game for half an hour at least. How
much are we ahead?”
“Not enough to feel easy about for the rest of the game,” said Isabel.
“I’ve got to work just as hard the rest of the time,” she added, with a
whimsical smile.
“How did it ever happen that you did not play basket-ball on one of the
teams?” asked Virginia.
“Promised my father and Jim that I wouldn’t.”
“Aren’t they interested in athletics?”
“The boys play everything, but Father and Jim said I shouldn’t except in
just ordinary games, like the regular practice we used to have at camp.
I have to display my prowess in the water sports.”
“You shine there, Isabel,” said Virginia.
“But at that I had to be rescued by Cathalina last year.”
“That was because you were hit by that log or whatever it was.”
“Just the same, I would have drowned, like anybody that couldn’t swim,
if it hadn’t been for her. Here they come. Now for the tug of war!”
But in this last half of the game the senior collegiates had no trouble,
apparently, in walking off with the honors. Anticipating a close
struggle, they made a great effort to hold the ball, and did brilliant
playing when it came to baskets, receiving enthusiastic applause. This
rather discouraged the younger seniors, who were tired and beginning to
feel the excitement. For them, everything seemed to go wrong, as it
sometimes does. When they had the ball, somebody would fumble, or the
interference kept them from accomplishing anything. The game closed with
a good score in favor of the senior collegiates. But they joined with
the audience in giving the senior academy yell, and heartily returned
the generous congratulations, which the losing team offered them, with
many a warm statement about how good a game they had played.
Lilian, Eloise and several others of the guitar and mandolin club had
brought their instruments to help lead the singing of Greycliff songs at
the beginning of the tournament or contest, and now escorted the winning
team home with much strumming and singing. Just before entering the
solemn doors of Greycliff Hall, the players lined up and gave the senior
yell with great spirit:
“Seniors ’rah! Seniors ’rah! ’Rah-rah, Seniors Col-le-gi-ate!”