Jane Allen, Junior Part 15

"Oh, yes," spoke up Margie Winters. "She is outside visiting with her folks. She told me this afternoon she had obtained permission."

"Not from me," declared Miss Gifford. Then as if fearing complications she added more tactfully, "But of course I might not have been within reach and someone else may have given permission.

Will you just step in here, dear?" to Margie. "I want to note what you say of Miss Duncan's absence," and while the reclaimed mutineers were being actually driven up the stairs by Jane, Dozia and the braver element, Miss Gifford was obtaining what clue she might as to s.h.i.+rley Duncan's whereabouts.

Herded successfully to second floor the visiting juniors set about distributing their charges into beds--any beds in any rooms but "under covers" was the order.

"I can just about picture the parade trooping into the infirmary tomorrow," said Dozia. "Here, Betty, this solo cot for yours. It is just your cute little size. And those tosies," with a playful thrust at a pair of s.h.i.+vering feet, "I think nervous fres.h.i.+es should wear slippers about their necks at night--like we used to have our mittens on a tape, you know. There," finished the querulous Dozia.

"You would have to roll down stairs if another alarm sounded. You're a perfectly sealed packet." Just the tip of Betty's head stuck out of the package.

Somehow all were finally settled and it was Sally--Sarah Howland, who came to the rescue of the visitors.

"But you must rest," she insisted, only a tell-tale pink rim around her blue eyes betraying the hysterical collapse she had so lately experienced.

"We are not the least bit afraid," declared Dozia. "In fact, we are rather anxious to meet said spook. Which room might be one in proximity? Where does the big noise seem to come from?"

"No more shows tonight, Dozia," spoke Jane before Sally could answer. "How much do you want for your money? Isn't a fire and a volunteer fireman's comedy enough?"

"But I am dreadfully keen on spooks," she was pinching Jane's arm cruelly, "and I thought it was--something weird that set off the original alarm."

Sally winced. "Here is a nice big bed," she told them nervously, pus.h.i.+ng back a door and disclosing a tranquil untrammelled room, all neat and orderly as if nothing unusual had happened in old Lenox.

"We call it the guest room but rarely have company to occupy it. I am sure Miss Gifford will want you two juniors to make yourselves at home in it," finished Sally with a quaver. She could not entirely hide the fact of her anxiety to get Jane and Dozia behind a closed door. Jane might have understood but Dozia was perplexed.

"It's a lovely room," faltered Dozia, "but I feel more like camping out. What time is it, anyhow?"

"About two-thirty A. M.," said Jane, "and since the youngsters are safely tucked in, I believe we should take Sally's advice. This is quite sumptious," folding down the extra white shams and coverlet.

"Rather a pity to spoil it for such a sliver of sleep."

Miss Gifford was at the door when Sally glided off. "I am so glad you girls are getting to bed," she commended. "What a night we have had? And what a mercy you happened to be within call? I'm sure I don't know how you got here but I am not worrying about the details.

Sufficient unto the day is the evil, etc., and"--with a readjustment of her gla.s.ses and a closer fold into the soft night shawl--"this condition is dreadful. I have tried to fathom the mystery without troubling the office, but I know now I should have reported it before." (She referred to the nocturnal disturbances, of course.) "Don't fear any further alarm, midnight is always the chosen hour."

"Yes," blurted Dozia, "we know about it, Miss Gifford, and my friend Jane inveigled me into this midnight raid. That is really how we got over here, but I can't say we have to report progress--'stampede'

would be more accurate."

"But this is only one night," Jane insisted, "and our fire brigade spoiled every possibility of investigation. But, Miss Gifford, since we have undertaken the task, I should like to propose that you give us an opportunity to try our skill at it. Suppose" (Jane had in mind the tearful face of little Sally) "you give us one more night before you turn the alarm in to Miss Rutledge? I am sure we can control your girls and get them to agree to our plan. In spite of everything, you know, they just adore the fun and sensation of it all."

"Well," faltered Miss Gifford, weakening, "of course I could not risk a repet.i.tion of this night's experience; at the same time I do like to keep my records free from appeals to headquarters. It is so much more efficient to manage each cottage independently, subject to a general system. Well, go to bed children and thank you for your moral and physical support. We shall discuss future plans on the morrow," she said sweetly. Truth to tell Miss Agnes Gifford was a very sweet girl--woman, and at the moment both Jane and Dozia fell loyally under the spell of her charms.

"Say, d.i.n.ks!" whispered Dozia from her side of the big double bed, "what do you think Judy will say to all this?"

"Judy had her own fun and shouldn't complain. Wasn't she all nicely arrested and tried at a regular police court? What's a spook and a fire to that!"

But Jane knew better. That night at Lenox was a "thriller" indeed, and Judith Stearns might well envy her chums its experiences.

Then while Dozia slept Jane wondered.

What did little Sally Howland mean about taking a room at the attic stairs? And how was that charming little thing implicated with the ghost of Lenox Hall?

The plot was thickening. Sally did not in any way answer to the deceitful type, but some mysterious force seemed to overshadow her.

"Pretty little thing, with such appealing eyes and so honest--"

Jane slept.

CHAPTER XIV

PLEADING FOR TIME

It's a very large order, Jane, but you're the merchant. How on earth do you expect to obtain permission to stay at Lenox without giving the whole thing away?"

"I haven't an idea, but depend on old friend Circ.u.mstances to bob something up. It is wonderful how very simple it is to flim-flam a philosopher. They never seem to suspect intrigue and walk right into the trap. I've tried it before with Rutledge! she's a lamb if you watch your ba-as."

It was "the morning after" and that trite phrase surely fitted the occasion. Jane had dragged Dozia from her dreams in spite of threats and defiance, and now both juniors were on their way back to the dining hall at Madison.

"Rather different from the last tramp we took over this prairie,"

said Jane, "but as a thriller you can't beat midnight moonlight."

"Not that I'd care to," Dozia answered witheringly. "I can't see that the adventure 'got us anywhere' as brother Tom would say. I haven't any brother, you know, Jane dear, but it always sounds better to blame one's slang on him, don't you think?"

"I'm positive," said Jane, "but I have a trick of blaming mine on Judy. Wonder will she sleep all day because I, the faithful alarm clock, did not go off at her ear. There's the bell! I'm not very hungry. As an appetiser I think a night such as the last rather a flivver."

"Isn't it? I have that widely advertised gone feeling myself. Here's a chance to duck in without being noticed."

"We were out for early exercise," prompted Jane significantly, "and don't be too intelligent about that fire when they ask."

"'Deef' and dumb," quibbled Dozia. "Thank you for the party, Jane. I had a lov-el-ly time."

"Don't mention it," whispered Jane, as the line of students swallowed the two adventurers.

But the day was "fraught with questions," as Judith Stearns put it, deploring her own inability to obtain any "intelligent account of the whole performance." It became known early that the two juniors who had been searched for during the night, were not others than Jane and Dozia, but even a veritable grilling at the hands of a picked corps of sophs brought nothing more definite from the wayfarers than "they were over visiting Lenox and the 'fire' was a false alarm."

"And of course we couldn't put our heads out, for fear of panic,"

grumbled Nettie Brocton.

The day pa.s.sed somehow, and it was conspicuous by an entire absence of freshmen from the usual intermingling between periods. Even to Jane the reason for this was not clear until, in a burst of confidence with Judith, she outlined her plan of staying over at Lenox "until the ghost business was disposed of."

"Oh, I know," she explained while Judith pondered. "Miss Gifford is keeping them home to prevent them gabbing. That's darling of her.

She wants to give me--the newly discovered spook sleuth--a decent chance. Are you coming over with me tonight, Judy?"

"Cables couldn't hold me back. d.i.n.ksy, you bribed me into staying home last night but I'll never again 'list' to your blarney. But it wasn't goblins I believe; however, we'll decide that when we trap 'em. Your benign influence has worked well thus far. I promised to help a fres.h.i.+e with some Latin prose and she never came to collect.

Now I suppose I have to spoil my pretty hands with basket ball.

Don't you wonder how it was we used to love that unladylike game?"

Judith a.s.sumed a most sedate att.i.tude, but did not succeed in hiding a forlorn rent in her skirt even with a very broad palm plastered over it.

"'Ye strangers on my native sill tread lightly for I love it still,'" quoted Jane. "Seems to me you take about as much pleasure in the big game as you ever did, Judy. But let's away! We need it.

I'm all stiffened up with--"