Part 21 (1/2)

CHAPTER XX.

ALL ON ST. VALENTINE'S NIGHT.

Marjorie swallowed an inconvenient lump that rose in her throat. She would go to Miss Towne, but it meant a total up-setting of her plans. As she could not guess the freshman's trouble she could not gauge her time.

She might have to be gone for some time, although the note read ”a few minutes.” It was too bad. She felt a half desire to cry with disappointment. If she went at once she could get it over with and not miss the dance. But, no; the note specified half-past seven as the hour.

Presently she rallied from her downcast mood and took st.u.r.dy hope.

Perhaps, after all, she would not be detained long. She was sure Anna had done nothing wrong. It was more likely a financial difficulty which confronted her. That would not be so hard to adjust. Jerry would have to know. She decided that the other three Lookouts were ent.i.tled to know also. She might have to call on them for help in Anna's case. They were her close friends and fit to be trusted with a confidence. She claimed the right to use her own judgment in the matter.

”What a shame!” was Jerry's disgruntled reception of the news. ”I think it is selfish in her. Why couldn't she have waited until tomorrow? It is probably a financial difficulty. She isn't the kind of girl to break rules.”

”A member of her family may have died and she hasn't the money to go home. It must be really serious,” Marjorie soberly contended. ”I ought to go and I will. There is no snow on the ground. I can dress before I go and wear high overshoes and my fur coat and cap. Then, if I am not kept there long, I can hustle to the gym and be there before the unmasking.”

Better pleased with this arrangement, Marjorie hastily gathered up towels and toilet accessories and trotted off to the lavatory, leaving Jerry to frowningly re-read the note. Jerry did not like it at all. She wondered why Miss Towne could not have come to Wayland Hall instead of putting her chum to the extra trouble of seeking her.

Dinner was eaten post haste that night by the excited partic.i.p.ants in the masquerade. Preparations having been the order so long beforehand, it did not take the maskers long after dinner to get into their costumes. They were eager to go outdoors and parade the campus, the night being pleasantly snappy with an overhead studding of countless stars.

Fearless in the matter of going out alone after dark where an errand called her, Marjorie did not mind the rather lonely walk after leaving the campus. In order to escape parties of maskers on the campus she wore her own mask and therefore escaped special notice. Without it she would have been challenged by every party of masks she met. This was a favorite custom on this night. Frequently a member of the faculty was caught in crossing the stretch of ground and gleefully interviewed.

Coming to the row of houses, in one of which Miss Towne resided, Marjorie kept a sharp lookout for the number. The house where she had formerly lived stood about the middle of the block. Finally she came to 852, which she found by means of a small pocket flashlight which she usually carried at night. The arc light was too far up the street to be of use to her in this.

Pausing at the bottom step of the dingy wooden veranda, Marjorie surveyed the house with a feeling of depression. The two windows on the left were without blinds and dark. There was a faint light in the hall and in the room on the right. The two windows of this room had shades.

One was drawn down completely; the other was raised about eight inches above the sill.

”What a cheerless place,” she murmured half aloud. ”It is worse than the other house. I suppose the landlady hasn't got settled yet.”

Mechanically she reached out and took hold of the old-style door bell.

It did not respond at first. Using more force, it emitted a faint eerie tinkle. ”It sounds positively weird,” was Marjorie's thought. She smiled to herself as she rang it again. ”I hope I shall never have to live in a boarding house like this. I am lucky to have love and a beautiful home and really every good thing.”

The faint sound of footsteps from within falling upon her expectant ear, Marjorie straightened up and waited. A hand turned the k.n.o.b. The door opened about ten inches.

”Good evening. Come in.” Addressed in a m.u.f.fled voice, Marjorie caught sight of a tall, black-robed figure. Before she could reply to the muttered salutation, she felt herself seized by the arms and drawn into the house with a jerk. Simultaneous with the harsh grasp of a pair of strong hands the light in the hall was turned out.

”Oh!” She gave one sharp little scream and exerting her young strength flung off the prisoning hands. ”Keep your hands off me,” she ordered bravely.

Just then the door leading from the hall into the right hand room opened. The light from several tall candles shone dimly into the hall.

She saw that she was surrounded by half a dozen dominoed masks.

”Bring in the prisoner,” grated a harsh voice from within the room.

Despite Marjorie's command of hands off, she was given a sudden shove forward which sent her roughly through the doorway and into the larger apartment.

Sureness of foot saved her from stumbling. Strange to say, she had now lost all fear of the company of masked figures in whose midst she stood.

It had begun to enforce itself upon her that she had been hoaxed into visiting an empty house by those who had taken advantage of the masquerade to carry out their plan without undue notice to themselves.

She was now certain that she was being hazed by students. She knew of only one group of Hamilton girls who would be bold enough to deliberately defy the strictest rule of Hamilton College.