“Oh, yes indeed, they are both here, perfectly
safe,” she announced, “and I don’t
know what I should have done without their assistance.”
So the raiders had been “found missing”
at Madison Hall!
THE AFTERMATH
There was another panic over in Madison,” explained
Miss Gifford, after leaving the telephone; “when
Miss Allen and Miss Dalton were found missing it is
a wonder someone over there didn’t send out a
second fire alarm. Miss Fairlie was much relieved
to know her charges were safe and sound here, and
I obtained a leave of absence for you for the remainder
of the night,” she finished. The very much
perturbed matron had no idea of being left alone with
a flock of obstreperous freshmen.
“Lovely!” exclaimed Jane, dancing around
with a group of barefoot girls who threatened to turn
the occasion into a Greek playlet.
“Scrumbunctious!” sang out the ballet
de chambre, dancing in wild glee now that danger of
ghosts and firemen had actually passed.
“But girls,” spoke Dozia, “did you
notice the little fat fireman who held that big hose
nozzle? I do verily believe he was so disappointed
he wanted to hit someone. Just see where his old
hose scraped my best silken hose. I don’t
mean that for a parody, but honestly, girls, these
were the last and final gift from mater. She
has condemned me to wear ordinary lisle hereafter,
and just look at that—stock!”
“Only dry dust, it will brush off,” soothed
Jane. “But I say, girls, how about beds!”
“Beds!” shrieked a chorus.
“Not a bed!” spoke Nellie Saunders for
her entire class. “We wouldn’t mind
cuddling up here on blankets and cushions, but I for
one shall not mount those spooky stairs, this night.”
“Silly child,” scolded Dozia, her own
eyes heavy with the ordinary common garden variety
of sleep. “Would you expect company to do
all the lugging? Who’s to set up the billet?”
“Volunteers?” called Jane, and from somewhere
not before observed stepped out little Sarah Rowland.
“I shall be glad to help,” she said timidly,
and instantly a volley of eyes challenged her.
“Oh, Sally!” exclaimed Dolly Lloyd.
“Don’t you dare! The spooks would
just eat you up. You look exactly like a cream
puff.”
Laughter of the most chummy sort followed this, and
it was evident Sally, in her cream and white striped
robe with her yellow hair flowing over her shoulders,
was a popular girl with her companions.
Jane noticed, however, that her face, usually prettily
flushed with pink, was now deadly white, and also
that the child’s eyes shifted in a peculiarly
nervous manner.
“It’s lovely of you, Sally, and we’ll
just set a good example while Miss Gifford is searching
for that miscreant fire. Come along and get the
swaddling clothes for these babes. Aren’t
they an unruly lot?” and she tossed off her
blue cape preparatory for the lugging of couch quilts,
pillows and whatever else might seem useful.
