Warned by her chums that her pretty roommate was more than likely to
prove frosty, Muriel went to Room 22, armed with her usual light-hearted
insouciance, the best weapon she could have had in the circumstances.
Far from being cast down by the chilly environment Doris’s haughty
manner merely appealed to her keen sense of the ridiculous. She gaily
named her the Ice Queen and their room the ice chest. “If I stayed in
the ice chest too long I might catch cold,” she roguishly informed her
chums, “but I’m never there more than five minutes at a time except to
sleep.”
With the filling up of the campus houses with students and the formal
opening of Hamilton College the Travelers found their work cut out for
them. They spent countless hours in station duty, welcoming arriving
freshmen. Feeling their responsibility as post graduates they tried
earnestly to promote a spirit of sociability on the campus. These
self-imposed duties, besides the effort to keep in touch with their
personal campus friends, kept them constantly occupied.
The very reliable, conscientious firm of Page and Dean had the serious
duty before them of looking out for the students who had formerly lived
in the now demolished houses of the dormitory site. The tenants of the
houses in the block which Leslie Cairns had bought had been ordered out
of them directly after Commencement. The dingy row of dwellings still
stood, awaiting their chagrined owner’s pleasure. For a time Leslie had
lost interest in the garage idea and had regarded her ill-gotten
purchase as an elephant on her hands. Later, she had moodily resolved,
because she had nothing else to busy her, to go on with her original
plan in the hope of being able, eventually, to even what she considered
as a “score” with Marjorie Dean.
After painstaking inquiry and investigation Marjorie and Robin had
finally found good boarding places in the town of Hamilton for the
seventy-two students who could not afford campus rates. The zealous
promoters had also arranged with an Italian, who had recently begun
operating a three-bus line between Hamilton and West Hamilton to carry
the students to the campus every morning on special trip. More, their
old friend Baretti had offered to serve such students with sandwiches
and tea, coffee or milk whenever their free hours from recitations
should permit them to come to the restaurant. The devoted friend of Page
and Dean, the warm-hearted Italian had named a small price for the
service. He had been an almost avid supporter of the Travelers’ plans
and had often hinted that “someday” he would give the “dorm” a nice
present.
“Positively, Robin Page,” Marjorie declared fervently one soft fall
afternoon as the two girls left the dormitory site after a consultation
with Peter Graham, “things are simply skimming along. Everything good
seems to be gravitating straight toward us. Thanks to Miss Susanna and
Jonas the site is clear now and ready for the building. It wouldn’t have
been cleared before Christmas if they hadn’t given us that splendid
early start. And where could we find another builder like Mr. Graham? We
couldn’t; I’m sure.”
“Blessing number two,” counted Robin, laughing. “We might as well rank
Guiseppe Baretti as number three. Think of what he’s done for us!”
“I’m thinking,” Marjorie nodded. “Then that bus line started up like
magic. Just what we needed, when we needed it! And the boarding houses
for the off campus girls are fine. Now that they are so beautifully
settled we can begin to pick up life on the campus. The freshies this
year seem a dandy set of girls.”
“So Phil says. She’s not crazy over the sophs, though. She says she
thinks they are chesty. Not Gussie Forbes and her crowd. Phil likes
Gussie. She says there is a lack of college spirit among the others. She
hasn’t discovered why as yet.” Robin looked thoughtful. “I dare say
Gussie knows. She is such a live wire.”
“I must have a talk with her. Oh, gracious!” Marjorie sighed audibly. “I
have so much to do I hardly know what to tackle first. I can’t start
chemistry again for at least another week. That and French poetry are
all I shall undertake this semester.”
“I’m going to send for my car,” Robin announced with sudden irrelevancy.
“I’ve wasted time waiting for taxis to and from town. We really need my
roadster.”
“I’d like to have a car here this year,” Marjorie admitted honestly.
“This is a great secret, Robin. I haven’t told another person: General
gave me a choice before I came back here between having a car and the
money it would cost. I—I took the money. We need it for the dormitory. I
know we are welcome to use as much of Ronny’s money as we like, but the
self-respecting way is to raise it by earning it, or by self-denial.”
“You old dear!” Robin patted Marjorie’s arm. “You’ve taught all of us
the self-denying way. I spent scads of money when first I came to
Hamilton. Now I’ve turned positively stingy in my old age. I might as
well have my car here as home. No one uses it there. I have an excuse
for what the up-keep will cost.”
Robin was full of her plan to send home for her car. She began to
calculate, as the two entered the campus and lingered there for a brief
talk, on the saving of time it would mean as against the cost of
up-keep. While the absorbed promoters stood talking together a group of
half a dozen sophomores passed them. The sophs greeted the two girls’
pleasant salutation with a kind of admiring eagerness. Six pairs of
bright eyes rested longest on Marjorie, however. One of the girls made a
low-voiced remark to the others. There was a concerted shaking of heads
as the group passed on.
They had not gone on far when Marjorie said good-bye to Robin and turned
her face in the direction of Wayland Hall. The lively murmur of voices
close behind her caused her to wheel suddenly. In the next instant a
smiling band had surrounded her.
“Oh, Miss Dean, we’ve something special to ask you,” began the leader of
the group, a small blue-eyed girl with a round rosy face and deep
dimples. “You know the sophs have their election next week. Gussie
Forbes is our candidate for president. We want to get up an election
parade for her; a regular booster. We’d like to do something quite
funny. Could you—would you—ask that awfully clever P. G. Miss Harper
to—help—no I don’t mean exactly to help us. All we’d like is a
suggestion from you two.”
“We’ve heard about Miss Harper’s wonderful stunts. We know what good
shows you and Miss Page got up last year,” interposed a tall girl with a
frank, boyish face. “We were going to ask you and Miss Page when we
passed, then we were afraid of interrupting your conversation.”
“I wish you had,” Marjorie said with smiling regret. “Miss Page is full
of funny, original ideas. I’ll speak to Miss Harper tonight. Why not
come over to the Hall tomorrow evening? We can talk it over. Leila will
have thought of some good stunt by then.”
“Oh, fine, lovely, great work!” went up from her pleased listeners.
“What time shall we come?” asked the little girl who reminded Marjorie
of Susan Atwell, one of her Sanford schoolmates.
“Any time after seven, Miss Vernon,” Marjorie said cordially.
The little girl showed pleased dimples at being thus remembered. The
smiles of her companions were equally jubilant at the success of their
plea. “Thank you, Miss Dean. We’ll surely come,” was Miss Vernon’s
grateful acceptance as the sextette took themselves off across the
campus after a united murmur of thanks.
“The old calls are beginning to rise again,” Marjorie reflected happily
as she neared the Hall. She was reminded of the phrasing of the “Jungle
Books,” which she had adored as a child. “It’s good hunting again on the
campus. Good hunting all,” she repeated half aloud, “good hunting all
who keep the jungle laws.”