AN INVITATION
The girls could never have told exactly why, but they kept the mystery of
the album and Miss Arbuckle's strange actions to themselves, with one
exception.
They did confide their secret to fluffy-haired, blue-eyed Connie Danvers.
For they had long ago adopted Connie as one of themselves and were
beginning to feel that they had known her all their lives.
Connie had been interested enough in their story to satisfy even the
chums and had urged Billie to describe the pretty children in the album
over whom Miss Arbuckle had cried.
Billie tried, but, having seen the pictures but once, it was hardly to be
expected that she would be able to give the girls a very clear
description of them.
It was good enough to satisfy Connie, however, who, in her enthusiasm,
went so far as to suggest that they form a Detective Club.
This the girls might have done if it had not been for an interruption in
the form of Chet Bradley, Teddy Jordon and their chum, Ferd Stowing.
The boys had entered Boxton Military Academy at the time the girls had
entered Three Towers Hall, and the boys were as enthusiastic about their
academy as the girls were about their beloved school.
The head of Boxton Military Academy was Captain Shelling, a splendid
example of army officer whom all the students loved and admired. They did
not know it, but there was not one of the boys in the school who did not
hope that some day he might be like Captain Shelling.
Now, as the spring term was drawing to a close, there were great
preparations being made at the Academy for the annual parade of cadets.
The girls knew that visitors were allowed, and they were beginning to
wonder a little uneasily whether they were to be invited or not when one
afternoon the boys turned up and settled the question for them very
satisfactorily.
It was Saturday afternoon, just a week after the finding of Miss
Arbuckle's album, and the girls, Laura, Billie, Vi and Connie, were
wandering arm in arm about the beautiful campus of Three Towers Hall when
a familiar hail came to them from the direction of the road.
"It's Chet," said Billie.
"No, it isn't--it's Teddy," contradicted Laura.
"It's both of 'em," added Vi.
"No, you are both wrong," said Connie, gazing eagerly through the trees.
"Here they come, girls. Look, there are four of them."
"Yes, there are four of them," mocked Laura, mischievous eyes on Connie's
reddening face. "The third is Ferd Stowing, of course. And I wonder, oh,
I wonder, who the fourth can be!"
"Don't be so silly! I think you're horrid!" cried Connie, which only made
Laura chuckle the more.
For while they had been at the Academy, the boys had made a friend. His
name was Paul Martinson, and he was tall and strongly built and--yes,
even Billie had to admit it--almost as good looking as Teddy!
If Billie said that about any one it was pretty sure to be true. For
Billie and Teddy Jordon had been chums and playmates since they could
remember, and Billie had always been sure that Teddy must be the very
best looking boy in the world, not even excepting her brother Chet, of
whom she was very fond.
But Billie was not the only one who had found Paul Martinson good
looking. Connie had liked him, and had said innocently one day after the
boys had gone that Paul Martinson looked like the hero in a story book
she was reading.
The girls had giggled, and since then Laura had made poor Connie's life
miserable--or so Connie declared. She could not have forgotten Paul
Martinson, even if she had wanted to.
As for Paul Martinson, he had shown a liking for Billie that somehow made
Teddy uncomfortable. Teddy was very much surprised to find how
uncomfortable it did make him. Billie was a "good little chum and all
that, but that didn't say that another fellow couldn't speak to her." But
just the same he had acted so queerly two or three times lately that
Billie had bothered him exceedingly asking him what the matter with him
was and telling him to "cheer up, it wasn't somebody's funeral, you
know." Billie had been puzzled over his answer to that. He had muttered
something about "it's not anybody's funeral yet, maybe, but everything
had to start sometime."
When Billie had innocently told Laura about it she was still more puzzled
at the way Laura had acted. Instead of being sensible, she had suddenly
buried her face in the pillow--they had been sitting on Billie's bed,
exchanging confidences--and fairly shook with laughter.
"Well, what in the world----" Billie had begun rather resentfully, when
Laura had interrupted her with an hysterical: "For goodness sake, Billie,
I never thought you could be so dense. But you are. You're absolutely
crazy, and so is Teddy, and so is everybody!"
And after that Billie never confided any of Teddy's sayings to Laura
again.
On this particular afternoon it did not take the girls long to find out
that the boys had some good news to tell them.
"Come on down to the dock," Teddy said, taking hold of Billie's arm and
urging her down toward the lake as he spoke. "Maybe we can find some
canoes and rowboats that aren't working."
But when they reached the dock there was never a craft of any kind to be
seen except those far out upon the glistening water of the lake. Of
course the beautiful weather was responsible for this, for all the girls
who had not lessons to do or errands in town had made a bee line--as Ferd
Stowing expressed it--straight down to the lake.
"Oh, well, this will do," said Teddy, sitting down on the edge of the
little dock so that his feet could hang over and reaching up a hand for
Billie. "Come along, everybody. We can look at the water, anyway."
The girls and boys scrambled down obediently and there was great
excitement when Connie's foot slipped and she very nearly tumbled into
the lake. Paul Martinson steadied her, and she thanked him with a little
blush that made Laura look at her wickedly.
"How beautifully pink your complexion is in the warm weather, Connie,"
she said innocently, adding with a little look that made Connie want to
shake her: "It can't be anything _but_ the heat, can it? You haven't a
fever, or something?"
"No. But you'll have something beside a fever," threatened Connie, "if
you don't keep still."
"Say, stop your rowing, girls, and listen to me," Teddy interrupted,
picking a pebble from the dock and throwing it far out into the gleaming
water, where it dropped with a little splash. "Our famous parade of
cadets comes off next week. You're going to be on deck, aren't you?"
"We might," said Billie, with a demure little glance at him, "if somebody
would only ask us!"