A Dixie School Girl Part 9

She was affirming in no doubtful voice to Miss Stetson: "There is no reason that I should try to justify myself or endeavor to prove that my faculties are unimpaired, unless I choose to do so, but I prefer to convince both you and Mrs. Bonnell that I generally know what I am talking about. You will find that door securely locked!"

They needed no urging, but the door opened at a touch, locks nevertheless and notwithstanding. The light was switched on instanter. The room was absolutely undisturbed, likewise the bed. The puff cover, so lately hurtling through s.p.a.ce and straight for Miss Woodhull's august head, lay neatly folded in a triangle across the foot of the bed. The pillow case did not show a line or crease. The spread was absolutely unrumpled. In short, not one single thing was out of place or tumbled. The room might not have been occupied for twenty-four hours so far as any sign of disturbance was evident.

Miss Stetson looked just a trifle skeptical. Mrs. Bonnell's lips twitched a bit at the corners though her face was most respectfully sober.

With one withering glance at Beverly, the teachers, and all concerned, Miss Woodhull remarked scathingly: "If you were capable of such expedition in worthier causes you would lead the school," and glancing neither to the right nor left, swept from the room.

"You are to retire at once and no noise, young ladies," ordered Miss Stetson, divided between satisfaction at having proved her statement regarding Beverly's presence in the gym and her resentment at being doubted at the outset.

Mrs. Bonnell had already retreated to her special sanctum, there to have a quiet laugh over the whole absurd situation. She had guessed, of course, who Tweedle-dee and Jack o' Lantern were and in spite of rules to the contrary, thought it a rather good joke than otherwise. Presently she would send the servants into the gym to clear away the remains of the feast, but she would have her laugh first.

Miss Baylis, whose room was in the main building with the seniors had repaired thither to enforce compliance with Miss Woodhull's commands. No easy task, for some of the girls were long past baby days and resented baby treatment. The other teachers also had their hands full.

Consequently the south wing was left entirely to Miss Stetson's supervision, and the south wing was a pretty sizable building and naturally under existing circ.u.mstances, it did not simmer down as promptly as under ordinary conditions. Miss Stetson was compelled to go from room to room.

"Girls, be quick! Get undressed as fast as you can and put out your light," urged Beverly.

"What's up?" demanded Sally, who was inclined to dawdle from very perversity.

"Springing another one on us, Bev?" asked Aileen, laughing softly but hastily complying with orders.

Beverly vouchsafed no answer beyond a significant little jerk of her head.

In five minutes the lights were out in A, B, and C and Study 10 was in darkness also. Miss Stetson, ever suspicious, tiptoed back to peep in but found nothing amiss. Then a new outbreak far down the corridor summoned her to that end and Number 10 was for the time being left in peace. This was the cue. Beverly let about five minutes pa.s.s, then slipped out of bed and into her bathrobe and bedroom slippers in a jiffy. Sally and Aileen needed no hint to follow suit.

"Come quick," whispered Beverly.

Number 10 was fortunately, (or unfortunately) nearer the door leading to the gym gallery than some other suites. The corridor was now conveniently dark, the lights having been extinguished by Miss Stetson. Only the patches of moonlight s.h.i.+ning through the windows showed the prowlers which way to turn. In two seconds the gallery door was reached and the three were upon the gym side of it.

Now Miss Woodhull's pet economy was lights, and woe betide the luckless inmate of Leslie Manor who needlessly used electricity. The girls often said that if the house ever caught fire Miss Woodhull would pause in rus.h.i.+ng from it to switch off any electric bulb left burning. From sheer force of habit she had switched off the lights in the gym as she hurried from it, a key happening to be at the side of the door through which she led her brood. That the tail-end of the crowd might have stumbled over something was a trifling consideration.

Beverly's quick wits which had grasped many details of Miss Woodhull's idiosyncrasies, had taken in this one. It served her turn now. The gym was lighted only by moonlight, and silent as silence itself. The girls t.i.ttered.

"Isn't the joke on you, Bev?" asked Aileen.

"Oh look! Quick!" whispered Sally.

Beverly merely nodded.

At the further end of the room something glowed uncannily. Then two figures stole into a patch of moonlight, one tall and tattered; the other enveloped in a long garment which resembled a girl's coat, and from out the darkness came a sepulchral whisper:

"Where the d.i.c.kens did you say that key was?"

"Under the last side-horse," Beverly whispered back. "Can't you find it?"

"Ah, I looked under the first one," was the disgusted answer.

"Did you get the box?"

"Yes, I've got it all O. K.," replied the taller figure, "and now we're going to beat it. Good-night. Did you get ragged again?"

"Nothing stirring, but we wanted to be sure you got the eats. They're great. Good-night," whispered Beverly.

"So long," and spook number one having evidently found the key in question made for a door which gave upon the rear terrace. Just as he was about to insert the key the door was opened from the outside and Wesley's wooley head was outlined in the moonlight. The spooks darted behind the refreshment table and the three watchers dropped into inconspicuous heaps upon the gallery floor.

Wesley had entered with his pa.s.s key in compliance with Mrs. Bonnell's orders. The maids who were to help him had lingered to get their trays.

Wesley would have given a good deal could the clearing up have been deferred until the light of day, but he was obliged to obey Mrs. Bonnell.

"Whar dose fool gals at wid dey trays?" he muttered, "Seem lak gals ain'

never whar yo' want 'em _when_ yo' want 'em, an' pintedly dar when yo'

don'. Ma Lawd, whar' dat 'lectric switch at," he ended as he clawed about the dark wall at the side of the door for the duplicate of the switch Miss Woodhull had so carefully turned off.

As he found it a groan just behind him caused him to swing sharply about.

Unless one has heard a darkie's howl of terror at what he believes to be an apparition it is utterly impossible to convey any idea of its weirdness.

Wesley tried to reach the door. So did the tall spook. The result was a collision which sent Wesley heels over head, and before he could scramble to his feet again two spooks instead of one had vanished.

With a second howl the darkie shot across the gym and out of the door which led into the main building, where his cries speedily brought an audience to which he protested that:

"De hants done got dis house, suah!" and so successfully drew attention to the main floor that the three girls had no difficulty in slipping back to Number 10 and raising a window to listen to the thud of hoofbeats down the driveway.

So ended All Saint's Eve, though Wesley Watts Mather long retained his horror of that gymnasium after nightfall.

Then for a time all moved serenely at Leslie Manor. Thanksgiving recess was drawing nigh and the girls were planning for their holiday, which would begin on the afternoon of the day before and last until the following Monday morning.

Beverly was, of course, going to Woodbine, the boys to be her escort from Front Royal, to which junction she would be duly escorted by Miss Stetson, in company with Sally and Aileen, who were also going home.

Petty g.a.y.l.o.r.d was to join her doting mamma in Was.h.i.+ngton and proceed from that city to Annapolis to attend the Thanksgiving hop at the Naval Academy with the idol of her affections and also go up to the Army-Navy game in Philadelphia upon the Sat.u.r.day following, and Petty was a very geyser of gurgling giggles at the prospect.

Beverly's five days at home with the boys seemed only to emphasize the separation of the past two months and make the ensuing ones harder to contemplate.

The Sunday evening before she must go back to school she was nestling upon the arm of the Admiral's big chair, her arm about his neck, her dark head resting lovingly against his white one as she "confessed her sins."

From baby days this had been a Sunday night custom, and more pa.s.sed between these two in those twilight hours than anyone else ever kenned.

The Admiral's study was one of those rooms which seem full to the very ceiling of wonderful memories, and was also one of the homiest rooms at Woodbine.

It was the hour before tea time. Across the big hall could be heard Earl Queen's mellow tenor as he softly intoned: "Swing low, sweet chariot,"

while laying the table for the evening meal, the little clink of silver and gla.s.s betraying his occupation.

Mrs. Ashby had gone upstairs with Athol to unearth some treasures he wished to take back to school with him. The big house was very silent, a peaceful, restful spirit pervading it.

Upon the hearth in the study the logs blazed brightly, filling the big room with a rich, red glow and the sweet odor of burning spruce.

For some time neither Beverly nor her uncle had spoken. He was thinking intently of the confessions just made as he gazed at the darting flames and absently stroked the hand she had slipped into his, her other one gently patting his shoulder. Now and again she kissed the thick, silvery curls which crowned the dear old head.

Presently he said abruptly: