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NYPL RESEARCH LIBRARIES
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Jane Alien:
Senior
IS s ** t
By
Edith Bancroft
Author of
'Jane Allen of the Sub-Team/ "Jane
Allen: Right Guard," "Jane Allen:
Center, ' ' ' 'Jane A lien : Junior, ' * Etc.
Illustrated by
Thelma Gooch
New York
Cupples & Leon Company
373631K
JANE ALLEN SERIES
BY EDITH BANCROFT Cloth. Price per Volume, $1.50 Net
JANE ALLEN OF THE SUB-TEAM JANE ALLEN: RIGHT GUARD JANE ALLEN: CENTER JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR JANE ALLEN: SENIOR
Other Volumes in preparation CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY,New York
COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
Jane Allen: Senior
Printed in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
-o
CHAPTER PAGE
I GROWING UP . . ................... 1
II FIELD WORKERS IN THE MAKING ...... 13
III THE HOPELESS CHEST .............. 25
IV Too YOUNG TO QUALIFY ............ 41
V A NOVEL NURSERY .............. ... 54
VI AN OFFICER OF THE LAW ............ 67
VII WHEN BABIES WAKE .......... ..... 79
VIII CURIOSITY AND THE GIRLS ........... 90
IX THE FIRST INTERVIEW .............. 100
X THE INTERESTING DISCOVERY ........
XI THE ADOPTION OF GRANDPA TODD. ...
XII DANNY McGoRRY's HOME RUN ...... 186
XIII A MOTHER'S CONFIDENCE ...... ..... 149
XIV A DANCE WITHIN A DANCE ---- ..... 164
XV THIN ICE ........................ 176
XVT DAWN AND REFLECTIONS ............ 187
XVTI INTERFERENCE. , . . . .............. 199
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
XVIII THE INVASION 209
XIX HOOKEY BOYS 220
XX PLANS PRECIPITATED 231
XXI A LION IN His DEN 244
XXII JUBILANT JUDITH 258
XXIII SURPRISING NEWS 270
XXIV THE CONFESSION 282
XXV SATISFACTION GUARANTEED 297
Jane Allen:
Senior
CHAPTER I
GROWING
IT was not Jane's fault. And there are so many like her in the great world of girls, attractive with personality, fortunate with home and a wonderful father, popular with her many friends, and withal — good looking. Should not such a list of attributes make any girl happy? But does it, really?
So it was not her fault that in her senior year at college she found herself without that one positive asset that makes for real security and self confidence; she had no profession, she had no business training, and she was not sure just how she would earn a living if that possibility should ever present itself.
JANE ALLEN:
"But why, why?" demanded Judith Stearns irritatedly. "One would think you were going in for horrid politics or some other modern fad." There was scorn in every W7ord Judith uttered, although it failed to ring true.
"Don't be silly, Judy. I am not going in for anything. I am simply going out for work. I don't like this homage business. It's about as comfortable as being the model for our marble statue. Not that I am a model," she hastened to qualify, "but you all seem to think that your love suffices."
'There you go! Scorning our love. !And I just came over to lay a new bunch of it at your feet." Judith glanced down at the feet. "Rather 'nifty' little shoes. Where' d you get 'em?"
"All right, Judy, if you are not interested I'll talk to Dozia. I am just human enough to want company in this work." Jane sat down decidedly. She was either disappointed or pre- tending to be.
"Oh, I'll tag along, if that's all you want. You can count on me for the follow up- -I believe that's what they call the tail end. But Jane, I hate to see you do it."
"Why, Judy?"
"Maybe you'll get your hands all — dir-tee!"
SENIOR
"No doubt of it."
"And you'll be bobbing your hair."
"Not likely."
"And you will be sure to adopt mannish clothes."
"The3T're the best thing this season."
"And worst of all, you'll be away from the fun." This was said with complete and abso- lute decision.
"Fun?" Jane slanted her gray eyes until they took on their famous steely glints. "Judy, what fun is there in romping along through this life like a set of irresponsible children? True, we've done things, in a way, but not in a very big way." She tossed her head until the red gold hair threatened to break through a perfectly good and perfectly matched invisible net. Some few ringlets always did break out about her fore- head and around her neck, but they only proved the rule of tidiness and approved outside the confines.
"I like— that!" drawled Judith, "after all the wonderful things that have happened all through our other years, Jane Allen! You are the most ungrateful girl!" The charge was contra- dicted by the affectionate tone. Judith loved Jane.
JANE ALLEN:
"Exactly. They happened. But who can depend upon happenings for, well — for a living, for instance?"
"Say, Jane, I honestly do believe you are plot- ting to support someone."
"I am."
"Is he — good looking?"
"Handsome."
"Oh!" Judith sat up straight and her own idark eyes twinkled. "I think I'll join your labor squad, or whatever it is. A handsome man alters the situation entirely."
Jane chuckled. The irrepressible Judy was to be depended upon always, and her excuse for "coming in" on the proposition, merely afforded her a, pleasant way of capitulating.
"Do you know, Jude, what it will honestly mean?"
"I'll join the union. Then I defy you." Judith slumped further down in the big chair. Her dark head made an additional figure in the brilliant cretonne background, and it was quite as pretty as the painted ladies in their effective coiffures.
"It's two hundred hours field work," announced Jane, placidly.
'Two hundred hours in one piece!"
SENIOR
"Oh, no, of course not. Two hundred hours are required by the course," Jane explained.
"Oh, I breathe easier," moaned Judith. "I could just see you plugging out two hundred hours — why mercy me! That would bring you up to Christmas."
"But Jude, darling. Do you know what field work means?"
"Surest thing. He's the fellow who stops the ball."
'Well Judy, if you aren't going to be sane over this, as I said before, I'll ask Dozia. But you know I always like you, pest that you are."
"Pest that you am, sounds newer," suggested Judith. "Though why you should be out gun- ning for pests, with all this college full and swarming over "
Jane jumped up and tossed her note booK down on the small desk. "I see you are still an infant," she declared querulously. "I hoped you would be growing up in this senior year. Land knows, you need maturity."
"But it's so unbecoming. I had it on the other day when mother asked me to itemize the store bill, and it almost spoiled my pretty forehead. Jane dear, you run along and make all the arrange- ments. I assure you I'll be ready for your labor
6 JANE ALLEN:
squad when the whistle blows," and Judith dusted the crumbs from the fudge box into a white palm, then she spilled the palm into a scoop of very pretty lips. Judith was pretty, and each year paid her further compliments; her own state- ment against maturity to the contrary.
"You really want to take this interesting course, Judith?"
"I really do, strange as it may seem for a young thing like me."
"Then you will have to give up most of the sports."
"Which most?"
"Field work is compelling." Jane was too in- terested in her subject to be thrown off the track by Judith's frivolity. 'You see, the cases must be attended to when they are assigned to stu- dents, and if there happened to be a basketball game, or worse yet, a football game "
"I'd run and leave the case to Janie," con- fessed Judith shamelessly.
"I believe vou. That is, vou would leave some
•/ * *.
cases. But how about the handsome "
"That was just what I was going to ask you," interrupted Judith. "How about the handsome young man? Do I get him for my case?" "Oh girl! Harken to this!" begged Jane.
SENIOR
"When a social service case is assigned a stu- dent she takes it, body and bones
"I agreed to that with the handsome young man "
A fit of laughter, punctuated with moans and groans, confessed Jane's defeat. It was useless to try to make Judith pay any sort of attention. She was enjoying the very idea of Jane doing anything outside of college, and while the Social Service course was vague and novel to her, it did present some attractive possibilities. There was the case with the young man in it, for in- stance. Jane had said nothing about a young man, but Judith had easily conjured one up and equipped him with the most fascinating personality.
"Sign me up," she ordered as Jane slipped into her sport coat. "Are you going over to that office now?"
"Yes, and if you really want to take this course you had better tag along," said Jane, squashing her hat on firmly. "Otherwise, I'll pick up any well disposed student who crosses my path. I need a side partner in this."
"Then, I suppose I'll have to tear myself away from this lovely chair. I think these chairs are a distinct addition to Wellington," she remarked
8 JANE ALLEN:
facetiously. 0I like the cretonnes. They're be- coming, although I might have liked blue where the orange is."
"After Princeton's victory? What's the use, Judith. Yale may be notable for your Mr. Blair, but it is not to be considered when the orange tackles it on the big field. I think Walker showed rare discrimination in her choice of chair covers."
"I don't suppose she even knows they contain either orange or blue," remarked Judith, run- ning a finger along the colorful pattern, :'but I love Yale blue."
"You may. He's really quite a nice chap," conceded Jane. "Now, let us see what sort of field worker you will make. Hurry along. I have an appointment."
"Do I wear a uniform?" inquired Judith.
"Not exactly. But you can't wear flashy sport clothes when in the field. Joking aside, Judith, we are going in for a serious piece of work in this new course, and if you sign up for it you will have to forget a lot of nonsense."
"I'll try," drawled the dark haired girl. "In fact I'll do more than that for your handsome young man. Wait a moment until I get my big sweater. I feel the chill of this social service svave already," and she olid finally succeed in
SENIOR
getting into some out door garments and pres- ently tagged along after Jane.
It was the beginning of the second month at Wellington, and the two seniors, Jane Allen and her chum Judith Stearns, were, as has been intimated, preparing to take up the Social Serv- ice course in addition to their regular college studies. It was entirely Jane's idea. She in- sisted she must be prepared with a real, practical working knowledge of the general social side of life, when the day would come for Wellington to give her a degree. During her vacation she had talked it over with her father, that very likable gentleman out in Montana, and while he did not exactly fancy the idea of his attractive daughter going in for "slumming," as he insisted upon designating the social service idea, he did not oppose it. It would, he admitted, give Jane a valuable working knowledge of other classes, also it would do a lot of good for those in need of such investigating and assistance, but he hoped, and he made this much stronger than a mere hope, she would not go in so deeply that she would fall a victim to the cause. He did not want Jane to devote a promising young life to a restricted career.
As for Aunt Mary — that gentle little body
IP JANE ALLEN:
who stood in the place of mother to the girl her brother's wife had left in her care almost at baby- hood— she was appalled. The very last word she called out to Jane as the train left was: "Be careful of yourself, my dear, when you are out on those dangerous cases." It was easy to imagine Aunt Mary's apprehension, for, as a matter of fact, the cases are not only sure to be interesting but they are apt to be complicated.
Even so they were now to be undertaken, and Jane and Judith were bound for the office of the secretary of this special course. It was out- side Wellington proper, and had only been recognized as a profession since college gradu- ates were required by the Social Service pro- moters.
"And so you promise, Janie," said Judith, when a group of students had been greeted and escaped, "you promise this will be thrilling?"
"I haven't promised, but I'm afraid it will be," said Jane, tossing her head defiantly.
"And better sport than — the sports?"
"No sport in it."
"Well, there was our first year with you on the Subs," Judith undertook to recall, referring to the first year's record as told in Jane Allen of the Sub Team.
SENIOR
"All our years have been fruitful," went on Judith, "and I'll admit we have had our share of thrills, but I want this to be the banner, of course, and I feel sure that your handsome young man is the answer."
Jane swung an arm around her chum. She was always delicious, this dark eyed Judy, and after the recent separation of vacation Jane found her more attractive than ever.
In return Judith put two arms around Jane and almost lifted her bodily in a little affectionate jump. "You haven't got too heavy — I'm glad of that," said Judith. "I should hate to have to puff when I save you from some disaster out on a case. Do you suppose we will have to take special training in athletics? I can swing pretty well with my left," she did so. "But my right is a bit stiff," she tried that also. "I am sure we will have to be as limber as kittens and strong as 'cops' when we go gunning in your cases."
"Judith, do you realize, dear, you are joking at the expense of some of the dearest things in life "
"Oh, your handsome young man, of course. He's exempt. I don't land either my right or my left on him. It's just for the other cases. That with the old maid aunt and that with the
12 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR
tight-wad dad. Do you have any dad's on your list?"
"In family case work there may be entire families or pathetic remnants of that circle," said Jane, ignoring the bantering of Judith. "I just tingle with the prospect of investigating family wrongs and trying to correct them. Think, what an opportunity!"
Judith howled. Out in the street as she was, even the public opinion did not influence her mood. She was hilarious!
"I can see your — end," she said. "If you go to correcting family wrongs, I'd like to wager, you buy them all flivvers. Well, good luck! Show me the way and I'll help you tag them. Get the correct model car wrhile you're about it."
And then they entered the office, thereby entering upon the most interesting period of their entire college course. There was more than a handsome young man of Judith's imagination in the work they were about to undertake, but fortunately for them, the profession does not forecast its detail — that is left for the field work- ers to unfold.
CHAPTER II
FIELD WORKERS IN THE MAKING
SEATED in the trim little office, waiting for the attention of the young girl who was answering the telephone, making notes and giving instructions to a young woman obvi- ously her senior — and intermittently throwing out a sentence to a woman in black who sighed as she waited ; in the face of this, Jane and Judith lost their frivolity and became, forthwith, seniors.
"I feel like backing out," Judith whispered.
Jane was too much interested to comment. She could not help hearing the telephone con- versation, that is the half that was present on the office side of the wire ; she could not but notice the sad face of the woman in the heathenish black garb that seemed to drip sadness, and she could not avoid approving the efficient way in which the young girl behind the desk took care of all the angles presented.
"I'll be with you girls, presently," remarked the young woman. "I have only to assign this case, then I will be — at your service." She
13
14 JANE ALLEN:
smiled pleasantly. The girls from Wellington were recognized as students whose interest it was important to obtain, and nothing but the pres- sure of actual business would have kept them thus waiting.
Presently all the business was disposed of. The woman in black tarried and did not seem inclined to go, but the senior worker kindly but firmly led the way out, and the "cortege" as it appeared to Jane, passed into the next corridor.
'We wish to take up your course," Jane be- gan, directly after introducing Judith and being informed that the social service secretary wras Miss Morgan.
'You have taken sociology at Wellington, of course?" she 'asked.
Jane reviewed her record in the subject, and Judith did likewise.
'We are most anxious to have workers, but " she hesitated.
'What is the objection?" asked Jane frankly.
'Well, as a matter of fact, we rarely take sucK young girls. You see the work is not always pleasant, and for regular field work we usually require women of more maturity."
Jane's face fell. Being young was often a hindrance rather than a help.
SENIOR 15
"In our girl's club work we need your type, but you say you prefer the family case work?" inquired Miss Morgan.
"Oh, yes," said Jane. "Club work would not really appeal to us at all."
"College is full of clubs," chimed in Judith rather bluntly.
"I know that. I'm from Browiiell/' said Miss Morgan.
"Yet you are considered sufficiently experi- enced," Jane remarked smilingly.
"They needed some one for this office and I was pressed into service," explained the secre- tary. "Besides, I do not actually go out into the field, you see."
"But you must have done your two hundred hours field work," argued Jane.
Miss Morgan smiled, and it bore the brand of joyous youth, "I see I cannot win you to our girls club ranks," she said. "So I suppose I shall have to recruit you for the general course. We have some very interesting cases — when did you plan to commence?"
"Just as soon as you give us our assignments," said Jane. "We are all ready for the field, we have had any amount of theory."
16 JANE ALLEN:
Miss Morgan glanced down at her books. She looked up at Jane, tftien at Judith.
"I have one case " Again she paused. It
was evident this was important, and that while she wished to assign the girls to it, she almost feared to do so. She glanced again at Jane. 'Which of you is the senior senior?" she asked, smiling at the term.
"Miss Allen has outclassed me — a little," said Judith, good naturedly.
"Now Judith," protested Jane. "We have kept together all through college, and I only hap- pened to take up an extra subject last year," she told the secretary.
"But that extra was sociology," insisted Judith.
'To be frank, girls," continued Miss Morgan, "I will have to consult before I give this case out. Yet it is rather urgent. In the meantime I shall ask you to do some trial work. There are always too many cases waiting. And this locality, tak- ing in the farms, means child-labor and €hildren neglecting their education."
"Oh, I could inspect," said Judith brightly. "I had a class at our own country school once, and every time ,a boy stayed at home they sent me after him."
SENIOR 17
This brought forth a laugh from both Jane and the secretary. They could easily imagine Judith hauling a lad to school, even by the scuff of his collar, or is it the neck that has a scuff?
"I have a case waiting for you then," said Miss Morgan. "A boy of twelve, he is rather a lusty chap, will not go to school. We have no attend- ance officers here, and all that work comes to our bureau. I shall have the card made out for you at once, and, if convenient, you may start tomorrow."
"Now, Jane Allen!" said Judith. "I beat you after all. And my first case has a — boy in it." She wanted to say "handsome young man" but feared that would sound too frivolous.
Jane nodded agreement. Her case was not yet handed over, but she hoped when it was, it would not be a truancy.
It took some time to make out their application slips and sign all the confidential exchange mat- ter, but being directly from Wellington their record and standing were sufficient to pass them through the preliminaries without much delay.
"If you will come in tomorrow, Miss Allen," said Miss Morgan, "I shall be ready to give you a case. As a matter of fact, we always give our instructions out confidentially. I know you are
1 8 JANE ALLEN:
very good friends, but Social Service is different from all other branches of study," she qualified. "It involves the most intimate affairs of families, and the most remarkable complications that often are responsible for need and neglect. So if you will report one at two, and the other at three tomorrow, I shall give you each a try out," she said checking a very broad smile to answer the impolite telephone.
Jane and Judith collected the literature tlhey were to begin on and passed out to allow others to enter.
"Well!" gasped Judith, before they had left the business building. "Now I am in for it. Jane Allen, red head, also brick top and carrot stew! If I find this labor union and general family affairs are not consistent with the very best usages of society I shall sue you for damages in the highest court pf the land. I just know I shall have a perfectly dreadful time. Have you con- sidered that I am absent minded? Suppose I bring my truant lad right into Deanie's office by mistake? Or suppose, worse still, he robs us of our jools! Think, think girl! Of that string of red beads Dozia Dalton lives in. If aught should befall them Dozia would go daft "
"Oh Judy, do be sensible. Aren't you thrille8
SENIOR 19
already? Don't you know you will get off from a lot of dry, dull lectures to go hunting up truant boys?"
"Do I go alone? Stark alone?" wailed Judith.
"No, my dear, you need have no anxiety on that score. The colleges do not allow their girls to go out alone on cases."
"So glad!" sighed Judith. "For, Janie dear, I was only bluffing about being a crack shot at bagging hookey lads. I would be scared to death if one so much as blew a putty ball at me. The cases I referred to were from ,a Sunday School class, and when I called I always went dressed up and in our car. It was that which impressed."
"I can understand," said Jane. "They liked the car ride to school in you flivver."
"Loved it. That's why I suggested flivvers as prizes for your cases. But Jane, honestly, I am all a-tremble. Can you imagine us going on real cases? Into strange places and all?"
'Why not? Aren't you old enough to know how to run a family?"
A shout answered this. It seemed every sen- tence the girls uttered was capable of a free and also a literal translation. One could scarcely imagine Judith Stearns "running a family."
"And we are to go separately for our cases,
20 JANE ALLEN:
remember that," said Judith. 'There're a lot of the girls back from basketball. We have already missed something."
"But we have had the games through all our three years," Jane reminded her companion. They were almost at the college gate, and the girls were coming and going, laughing, calling, and whistling, as girls in their own world are ever wont to do. They hailed Jane and Judith, but the latter put on a most important air, and declared she was out on a "secret service case" and no one was to "intercept her."
In reply they seized Judith and carried her bodily into the grounds. Dozia Dalton, the big- gest, strongest and best natured girl of all, just picked Judith up and marched along with her •while the others followed, taunting gleefully.
Jane fell in step with Nettie Brocton. "Have you seen Bobbie and Sally?" asked Jane. "I promised to meet them this afternoon, but I couldn't make it."
"Yes, they were both at practice. Bob is com- ing along in great shape," attested Nettie. "But say Janie, what's all this I hear about you going outside and doing Social Service?"
"Exactly that," admitted Jane. Judith had managed to escape from Dozia and was now run-
SENIOR 21
ning wildly through the campus. No one would have taken her for a senior, that is, no one who did not know the joyous freedom of dear old Wellington.
"We all wish you wouldn't, Jane," said Nettie gently.
"Why?"
"It will take you away from everything here."
"Oh, no. Not so bad as that. Of course, I'll have to give up a lot of sports and I won't have as much time as usual for high jinks," said Jane. "But you see, Nett, I want a — career, a ka — ree — eer!"
"Oh, I see. Well, there is a big demand for the real thing in college girls. I know Social Service is taking graduates only, so, perhaps, Janie, just perhaps, you may bring glory to Wellington, although to be frank, I prefer the immediate results of a very good time."
"I am frail and human enough to feel the same way," admitted Jane, "but a still, small voice within me — etc. You know, Nettie, what it is when you inherit things, and I have a father who is never content with ordinary results. So, I suppose, my virtuous rash is breaking out in this, my senior year."
"But you don't mean to say you expect Judy
22 JANE ALLEN:
Stearns to make good at anything like that?" queried Nettie, incredulously.
'Yes, I do. The fact is, Judy is a perfect brick at keeping girls together, and that's the very requirement for the girl's club work. I ido admit she would not seem fitted for the family case work; she would just sit down and commis- erate with every toothache; but in girls' work, I think Judy ought to be perfectly splendid," Jane enthused. "Dont you remember how she patched up all the stirring factions we have suffered from in the last three years?"
"Yes, but she had you to work for, and you did happen to be popular. Not that I underestimate Judy," Nettie hurried to explain, "but I was just considering what might happen if this inter- est should spread. Why, half the girls will be running for Social Service work." Nettie's voice showed some opposition.
"Do you understand the principle, Nettie?" asked Jane, a challenge in her voice.
"Oh, yes. You are supposed to investigate and adjust all sorts of family squabbles and troubles," said Nettie. "I knew a girl who took the Spencer course and she couldn't come home for meals. She always had her Christmas dinners down at the docks, and her -especial interest was
SENIOR 23
with the men who mend umbrellas. Now Jane, can you see yourself at that sort of tiling?" scoffed Nettie.
"I may begin on babies," answered Jane. They were almost at the door of Madison, and Judith ran back to meet them. She promptly interrupted.
"Oh, say Nett! Has she been telling you? About my handsome boy, I mean. The one I am to adopt?"
"I don't recall the handsome boy, I thought, rather, it was a flock of girls," replied Nettie, taking on Judith's good humor.
"Then she's prolonging the good news. Yes indeedy! I am to go out gunning for hookey lads, and can you imagine it?"
"Now Judith, if you go around making fun of the work you are sure to get into a frivolous state of mind, and that will be psychologically against good work. You want to take this seri- ously or I am afraid you will not be successful. Get used to the word 'serious,' ' insisted Jane.
"Serious? I am going to lock my door this very night and study these maps and charts," Judith waved the roll of pamphlets. "I will be letter perfect in every detail before I go back to that efficient little woman. And Jane, the
24 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR
more I think of it, the more I am convinced, that the case she is going to hand over to you is the one of especial importance. I could tell by her eye "
"Reading eyes all ready? That's a pretty good start, for the first step in our new profes- sion, ahem! is keen observation. There Judy, I knew you were a fit student. Now girls, just watch our "
But Jane was too near a professor, who stood at the hall door, to finish in the vernacular.
CHAPTER III
THE HOPELESS CHEST
FROM this rather flighty beginning evolved the most important issue ever undertaken in Wellington. The interest in Social Service spread, just as Nettie Brocton foretold, until most of the seniors of any account whatever, either applied for admission to the class, took up the preparatory lectures, or de- voted all their extra time and money to the "Cause."
"It's lots better than running around after the basketball squad," said Dozia. "Besides, girls, it will prepare us for our own family manage- ment." Dozia was irresistible as a prospective home-body.
'We thought as much, Dozia," said Jane.
1 You can now entertain the class with an account
of the hope chest. What's the newest in hopes?"
"My newest," and Dozia gave her character- istic stretch that brought her length out peril- ously near Ted Guthrie's best pumps, "my new-
25
26 JANE ALLEN:
est in hopes is the Lost Hope. It's too sad to relate," and she sniffed effectively.
"Ah, now Doze! Go on and tell!" begged Janet Clark. "We have heard that you really are engaged."
"Some good friend spread the glad report," replied Dozia, "but unfortunately, it is spread on a very thin surface. I almost lost the man outright, this summer."
"How?"
Here was the very morsel of news everyone craved.
"Well, you know how I look in a bathing suit "
"Perfectly mermaidy," said Jane. "With that grace and those locks, not to speak of the "
"Shanks, say it Jane. Have courage! It was the shanks. You know I just insisted on wear- ing them covered, and not another girl, nay not even a matron, wore covered shanks this sum-
mer.'
'What in the world would a pair of stockings have to do with a man?" asked Velma Sigsbee. She knew Dozia's jokes, yet would take her seri- ously in spite of that.
"Oh, heaps. But I scarcely feel able to re- late," said Dozia. "It all comes back with a
SENIOR 27
swoop " and she spread an inadequate hand,
fanlike, over a smiling face.
"Go ahead, dear," encouraged Ted Guthrie. She was as fat as ever, in spite of all her summer treatments. "Do tell about the shanks," she begged.
"No, it was socks, wasn't it Doze?" prompted Nettie.
They were all in Jane's room, which was also Judith's. Madison Hall, the home of some juniors and many seniors, had about settled down to the regular routine of girls and girls, with books and papers. The beds were there also, stuck away as far back as walls would allow, but the most conscious feature was the girls with their personal appurtenances, such as pillows, candy boxes, banners, pictures and a few of the needed chairs. Alongside of said chairs the students usually spread themselves out on the floor. The present evening was being given over to Dozia's reminiscence of what she termed "A Lost Summer."
"As you were saying," again Judith sug- gested, "it was the socks."
"Yes. You know how they will get hole — y, the very best of them. Not that mine had ever been good — Dud lent them to me and he never
2$ JANE ALLEN:
would have done so if they had not been beyond repair — but I wore them, at any rate "
"That's the main thing," interrupted Janet, with a sigh of relief.
'Yes, it was. And my friend — Phil "
"The friend?" asked Jane.
1 'He — she or it, and sometimes W and Y." Dozia rolled over and pulled down a bunch of papers that had been sliding from a chair. They flew about most recklessly and Judith made a pretense of scrambling after them.
'When you get back to position I shall pro- ceed," said Dozia, loftily.
"Oh, go ahead! What about your old socks?" demanded Nettie, impatiently.
"Shanks?" insisted Velma.
"Both," amended Jane.
"Either," flung in Judith. "I'm not so par- ticular, Doze."
"Now, maybe you-all think this is funny. Have you lost track of the fact that I lost my Phil through it all?" This with a whimsical inflection put Dozia in the forsaken class.
"No, I have that fact on my first finger," said Jane. "But Doze, is he that perfectly spiffing fellow you brought out to the prom last year? 'Yes.
SENIOR 29
"And your hope chest is hopeless now?"
"I'm planning a auction or a fire sale," moaned Dozia.
"How did it happen?" demanded Velma. "Did he get angry because you did or did not wear socks?" Velma was distractingly literal.
A shout followed this. It soared and roared until Jane begged for consideration.
"You know, Walker has asked that we be or- derly and let the other good students — stude," she explained.
"It was this way," again began Dozia. "I was learning a new stroke and it was perfectly dreadful on socks, so when I went in the water I loosed me garters "
"Did you wear — them?" The scorn in Nettie's voice betrayed her own weakness for the rolled top sock, and her abhorrence for anything so anti- quated as elastic.
"Oh, just the merest thread," Dozia explained. "You see, girls, I have not the self-adjusting sort of knee. Mine slides."
The long, thin girl, who was the biggest joke to herself, never looked longer than she did at the moment. Surely her knees did "slide."
"And Phil? Where does Phil figure?" de- manded Winifred Ayres.
30 JANE ALLEN:
'When I came back from the briny deep my socks would not stay socked, -and you know, girls, I never could go out on the beach with those little, pink shanks just shanking. So I asked Phil would he mind running over to the pavilion store for a box of cookies?"
"Cookies? I thought you wanted garters?" gasped Velma.
"I did, of course. The cookies were just an excuse to get rid of Phil ; they would never hold up socks. Well, he went away and I crawled out and pulled the socks after me," she continued. "I was just about to try that new fangled roll, you know the cute little turn we used to make baby's hats out of old stockings with, when along came Jack Dean. I hadn't seen the boy in years, and I forgot all about the miscreant socks, and promptly came out to greet him. I was doing so most effusively, when along came Phil with the cookies."
"We don't quite see "
"No one could," Jane interrupted the nar- nator.
"But men are the oddest sticks. There was
Jack and there was Phil and there was I "
This was Dozia.
"And the cookies," suggested Velma.
SENIOR 31
'Ye-ah. Then I looked down at my poor, benighted knees and plunged into the deep again. My knees were never pretty," admitted Dozia.
"Just to cover a pair of knees ? Left two very nice boys?" queried Judith. She had been eating candy up to that, but the boy part interested her.
"I did. Jack dove in after me, but Phil — He just turned on his heel and went up the sands, mad. Said I had <cut him for Jack and he knew Jack at Blake's, and Jack had always been a tease, it seems. When I came back to the water's edge" (Dozia was dragging out the yarn with telling effect. Some of the girls were almost asleep), "when I came back," she repeated, "Phil was just assisting a striped suit girl into the canoe, although it was too rough to go on the ocean in a bark. But I suppose he did it so I could see that he did not depend upon one, mere girl. Then Jack fell to and took care of me."
"And the naked knees?" Velma was not to be sidetracked.
"I was so glad to see Jack I forgot about the knees. And besides lots of folks wore them that way," said the inconsistent Dozia. "But they did furnish the evidence. I have not been hope- chesting for Phil since."
"And what about Jack?" Velma again.
JANE ALLEN:
"I had a card for his wedding last week," ad- mitted Dozia. "He is the sort of fellow who believes in settling down."
"I don't blame him," remarked Nettie. "Even you gave up Phil for him. He must be a regu- lar — prize."
"Not exactly, but 'he has a position in the big- gest export office on the docks. He will take the girl to foreign parts. But Phil, now he is different. He believes in home-rule, or home- trade, or whatever you call home grown stuff," floundered the weary Dozia.
"Couldn't you make it up?" asked Nettie.
"Girls, I will confide in you a real secret," said the girl who was holding the center of the stage. "I believe college is the death of real prospects. When I went home I expected to find the usual crowd of admirers on my door step, instead of which they were two doors down. Myrtle had not gone to college but had cultivated friends. I don't believe in being away from home four mortal years, and letting the others do all the campaigning."
"You don't claim that your sentiment is origi- nal, do you?" asked Jane. "Seems to me others have sent out that alarm."
"Many. That is all the more reason why it's
SENIOR 33
true." Dozia was apparently serious. "And Jane Allen, I suspect that is why you are out for Social Service. You are going to prove you can do something besides listen to lectures and attend proms. You are going to learn 'family cases,' I hear."
"With a handsome young man thrown in the very first case," inserted Judith. ' While I must be content with a mere, truant boy."
"There is something in what you say," bantered Ted Guthrie. She looked like a great, big, extra cushion on the couch. "I was not beseiged with callers myself this summer," she admitted. 'The boys, especially, seemed to shy clear of me. Claimed I was a high brow. Now girls, what shall we do to correct all this? We can't all go into the family case work," she concluded.
"For one thing we can carry extra elastic wHen we try new strokes," suggested Dozia. "Who could foresee that so trifling a trifle would result so disastrously?" Again the falsetto wail.
The tale had been frivolous, still, it held the girls' attention. When away at college, the home scenes, particularly the summer features, are al- ways a welcome diversion. How much or how little of Dozia's story was built upon fact no one bothered to question, as she was ever most ac-
JANE ALLEN:
commodating as an entertainer; but she was also one of the girls with social "prospects," and around her interest was found to center.
"Quite a yarn," commented Judith. "I had one myself but I'll save it for a better opportu- nity. Besides, who could compete with Dozia?"
"Gather up the fragments," suggested Jane, alluding to Dozia who was scattered about the floor. She was long enough to be "gathered up," and as she moved quite a number of articles moved with her.
"And honestly, Doze, aren't you going to tell us about the hope chest?" pressed the insatiable Yelma.
"Say Vellie, why don't you get one? They're quite cheap now, or just ask the grocer boy for a pretty box and cover it all over with cretonne," suggested Jane. 'Then, \vhen you ask a boy to go for cookies and another one comes along the sands, why, you'll be all ready. I'll start you with a pair of worsted slippers Judy Stearns wished on me last birthday."
This precipitated a veritable shower, each girl offering the helpless Velma such gifts as had been thrust upon the original, until Velma, not to be outclassed in strategy, got a note book and therein recorded the promises.
SENIOR 35
"And I'll collect F.O.B.," said Velma. "I don't know what it means, but that's the way our winter apples come and they are always lovely."
"Just let me see your ring, Doze?" asked Jane, reverting to the Phil and Jack episode. "It seems to me, that's new."
"Oh, do let's !" begged a chorus. Whereupon Dozia and her diamond became a pivot around which circled the party.
Every one admired, and Dozia fondled the third finger of her left hand significantly.
Thus the beginning of the senior year found all the students preparing for the year after. As the first two, and sometimes three years at college are difficult, the senior year is regarded as a perfectly sure finish. So to these seniors came the new problem of the big, outside world. For the entire course they had all but given up home and its consequent responsibilities, but now they were coming back to it with a rush. Home would soon be theirs.
But to Jane the present was especially fas- cinating. A knowledge of the great, mysterious battle of life as being fought by the less fortunate, afforded her a new and profound interest. So strange, so wonderful, and even so remarkable
36 JANE ALLEN:
was the vista opening up through the study of Social Service that even Judith had calmed down at last to its tragic requirements.
The little cards, marked out in blocks for notes and reports, were now as familiar to the students as had been their test reports heretofore, and following the initial preperation their cases were assigned, and, as had been anticipated, it was Jane's case that made the real story.
She was allowed to talk over some of the detail with Judith in private conference, and she was now availing herself of this privilege.
"It frightens me," she admitted. "I really Wonder, Judy, am I wise enough "
"Oh, pooh bah!" exclaimed Judy. "You are not only wise enough but also brave enough. Miss Morgan told me so herself."
"That's kind," replied Jane. "But you have no idea how complicated this special case is."
"The one with tihe handsome young man attached?"
"Queer how you suspected him. There is really a young man in it. I haven't seen him, so I cannot testify as to his beauty," said Jane, jotting another line in her day's report book. "I am going out tomorrow to see one branch of the family and obtain my first interview."
SENIOR 37
"Could I know how the young man figures?" asked Judy, facetiously.
"He has not figured yet. Part of my task is to get him to do so."
"Oh, go on Janie. Tell a fellow something about it," coaxed Judith. "I told you all about my hookey case."
"If you will just try to be serious for a few minutes I should be glad to," replied Jane. "But Judy, we are really handling life problems in this work, and we cannot afford to treat it
lightly."
"Oh, I know. I found my family trying to divide a can of salt codfish between four today, and that included the baby. I know just how serious it is," admitted Judith. "But Miss Morgan was so secretive about your case "
"Yes, I rather think she was doubtful about turning it over to a beginner. But there was need for a girl to handle it. It seems the regu- lar experienced workers had little influence upon the principal party, an elderly gentleman," Jane continued.
"Oh, I adore elderly gentlemen! Now, why couldn't I have had that case instead of my cod- fish shower?" deplored Judith.
"There appears to have been a reason," went
38 JANE ALLEN:
on Jane evenly. "Fact is, the old gentleman is a friend of dad's."
"Not really?"
"Yes indeed. He wrote dad something of the story and happened to mention that girls from Wellington were 'pestering' him. Dad wrote back that I might be among the number of pests."
"Good for dad! I like his spirit. I wish my folks would go into the produce business and send me a shipment of fresh fruit for my Andy and his folks. I fancy I could get him to attend school more promptly if he did not have to worry about purloining specked bananas," complained Judy.
'Yes. It seems strange that there should be actual want so near us out here; but this is an old town, and the outskirts have been gradually fading from the state of prosperous farms to that of being the fringe of a college town. Industries have come, but the most important, that of soil cultivation, has departed," Jane deplored.
"My, but you have learned! All that in a few weeks? I never hope to compete with such efficiency. Did your family own a farm and lose it?" asked Judith.
"No. I hardly know how to begin on relating even the preliminary detail, but I can tell you
SENIOR 39
this much. There is a young woman, and an elderly woman, two small children, and outstand- ing and most important, a very wealthy uncle," said Jane.
"Oh, I see. He's dad's friend, naturally. Your dad couldn't have any other sort of friends," Judith made a note or two herself.
"Judy Stearns! Don't you dare insinuate my father isn't popular among the humblest! I believe this rich friend made himself that wayy and he was father's friend when both were struggling." Jane's voice, while partly banter- ing, was a trifle emphatic.
"Oh, no harm meant, Jane," Judith hurried to say. "I just naturally knew that the rich uncle wrould be your dad's friend. But I don't blame you at all for resenting the inference." Judith was serious now. "It is a handicap even here to be considered as belonging to the idle rich. Not that I would mind it
'
'If we are going to consult, Judy, hadn't we better be going at it? I have to report to Miss Morgan early tomorrow, and I really don't feel as if I had made any progress. I haven't even seen the young woman."
"What's the outstanding difficulty?" asked Judith bluntly.
40 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR
"It's mysterious. The mother's health is broken through anxiety. The daughter is a young widow, and the son — he's at college !"
"Just like a boy! To be out of it all. Hale him back and set him to work; that's my diag- nosis," said Judith promptly.
"But there's a reason," demurred Jane. "How would you like to have a brother yanked out of college in his last year after having made all sorts of sacrifices to get him that far? It appears he is a most estimable young man, and has a position waiting for him as soon as he graduates. His college specializes in engineer- ing, and he may build big bridges, and amount to something. Would you deprive a boy of that after he had worked so hard for it?" demanded Jane.
Judith dropped her pencil and focused Her dark eyes on the flushed girl before her.
"Say Jane," she said very gently, "I just wisH I had one brother, only one; I'd give him to you," she finished, and there was no bantering note in her soft, even voice.
CHAPTER IV
TOO YOUNG TO QUALIFY
VELMA'S shower brought forth a party. It was held in Ted Gutherie's room because she had one all to herself, and s-he was always good natured about parties. Besides these considerations, there was that of hot chocolate, which Ted collected in thermos bottles. No heating affairs were allowed in use in Madison, but there was no objection to fetch- ing hot things in.
Dozia was in a state of alleged huff. She pro- tested that the signs hung upon her door the night after her lost garter story, did not add credit to her reputation as a girl of sterling disposition.
"That one 'Fire Sale/ brought the babies in," she declared, "and the one Judy made, I knew her art, 'Auction of Sentimental Curios,' that went right to our Lit. Prof .'s heart. She wanted to know what I had "
"Now Dozia," interrupted Nettie, "we all
41
42 JANE ALLEN:
know you are going to be the first married, and •\ve are getting our bridesmaid's outfits ready between times. In fact, we are all wondering why you stay the year out. Suppose Phil should meet another girl in a striped suit?"
"It is risky," admitted the tall girl. "But my <lad had his dear, old heart set on a grad in the family, and I must be that. We have none other to qualify. But isn't it lovely about Velma? The Hope Chest may keep her out of mischief for a time, at least. She has the most tantalizing way of- -sticking to things."
"How do you like domestic science?" asked Xettie pointedly. "I think it's too funny; Jane and Judy in for family affairs and you 'in for the cooking class."
"Funny! What do you intend to do when you go home? Going to give lectures on Socrates? It seems to me, Nettie, it would be a good idea for you to take up something practical yourself. I heard the blacksmith say, the other day, he wished he had an apprentice."
"Now Dozia Dalton! Don't get sarcastic! I did ride in a side car a few times, but I am not interested in the art of w^heelwrighting. It seems to me I have more than my share of extra work to do, with getting up proms and such features
SENIOR 43
since you and Jane ducked," she continued. "It is all well enough for the uplift idea, but who is going to carry on in Wellington?"
"The freshies all love you. Isn't that worth while? I believe the term is 'crush' — they all have 'crushes' on you. I don't like the word. Makes me think of what money I lost at a soda fountain last year; but in the dorms of the babes the name Nettie Brocton fairly echoes," declared Dozia, dramatically. "So don't you worry about others deserting the social ranks."
"Jane and Jude are simply lost to us," Nettie continued to bewail. "Bobbie and Shirley are inconsolable. Jane took them to her heart last year, you know, and I can't see how she is going to desert them now. They sort of look to her to fight their battles."
"Well, Jane is fighting real battles and Judith is having a great time collecting truant boys, I believe," said Dozia. "As far as I am concerned I haven't done a thing outside except to help with the Health Drive. I hope I did a mite of good then by spreading the gospel of soap and water in the southern district. Poor creatures ! They are so busy trying to live they don't have time to learn how to live."
"Miss Hutledge was proud of our corps,"
44 JANE ALLEN:
added Nettie. ''She said we made a better show- ing than any of the other colleges. And it was not a simple matter to go into the big city, and canvass for clean faces. I was with Miss Wilcox, up town, and it was not so bad there. But I heard about your district."
"I don't blame Jane and Judith for going into the whole thing scientifically," added Dozia. "I found the only answer to the perpetual question of 'what can be done' is to be found in the text books. It cannot be guessed at, and it is almost an exact science."
'Yes, I agree with you," said Nettie. "I used to think it was a matter of boosting salaries, but I know now we have to have the specialist in the human nature field, as well as in any other partic- ular branch of applied knowledge. But it seems to me, Jane is taking her work over seriously. She wouldn't even accept a senior office, and after the place she held here last year," commented Nettie.
"Just give Jane her head, as we say in sports, and she will come back to us triumphant," de- clared Dozia. "You know very well, Nettie, a lot of the girls criticised our devotion to Jane, said we were unfair."
"Oh, they would criticise our attention to
SENIOR 45
Columbia, if she happened along," complained Nettie. "I don't mind giving others a chance, but I don't care to have so much to do myself. Not one of the crowd of dissenters is willing to send out tickets, help with decorating, or do any of the hundred things we have to do for the first prom. They were eager enough to go on com- mittees, but once their names appeared in the Tellit they just sat back, and I have to gather up all the loose ends." she declared.
"I'll help, Nett, honestly I will," declared Dozia, "I did not realize how we were missed. Of course, the seniors owe a lot of social obliga- tions to the others, and I'll see Jane and Judith and ask them to change their schedule and make room for a few evenings at home. I'll call upon them this very night." she finished, firmly.
"I breathe easier," sighed Nettie. "I have been so used to the party as a whole I cannot sense it in terms of persons. I wonder how the big work is really coming on?"
"They're so secretive about it they won't even tell me what the field work means — beyond 'cases/ as if that meant anything. But I saw Judith with a lad yesterday, and I did not have to be a Sherlock to guess she was hauling him
to the office. She was talking so fast she never
46 JANE ALLEN:
saw me as I turned the corner. I was riding with Winifred Ayres. We were out scouting for banners for the field day. We must wind up the season gaily."
"Plow the autumn has flown?" remarked Nettie. 'Well, let me know what the girls say, and see if you cannot recall them to home service. It seems to me they should remem'ber the Sororities."
"Oh, they will. Jane and Jude never desert," declared Dozia. "It is only a question of adjust- ing their schedule. I believe all the field work has to be c<^ red within a certain time." She was on her ay to the letter box, and it was an open secret that Dozia Dalton made more trips to that box than any other senior except Mary Wallace, who wrote poetry.
It was twilight, and knots of girls were hurry- ing about, trying to crowd into the late daylight a full day's programme of sports.
But down at the far end of the campus, in that part of the college grounds rarely frequented by students, Jane Allen was making her way from hedge to path and back, crouching in what ever shadows offered her protection.
"Isn't it lovely out here?" she was cooing to the child she held so closely.
SENIOR 47
; dark," faltered the youngster.
"But Joy isn't afraid, are you, Joy?"
"Me is." This from Joy.
"Where's Grandma?" piped Jill. She was the older of the two pathetically young students — if all newcomers were to be considered students at Wellington.
"Grandma is sick, you know," soothed Jane. "And you are going to stay all night in this lovely big house. Won't that be nice?"
"I's afwaid!" sobbed Joy, belying her name. "I wants to go back."
At this Jane found it advisabi,fto sit down
. -,
in a particularly convenient spot , i talk more seriously. She could not let the students see her with her strange charges, but she must smuggle them into Madison, somehow. Once there she would depend upon Judith to help her put over the night. It was a most heroic under- taking but she had no choice, so it seemed to her, at least.
So there in the privacy of the kindly old hedge, Jane Allen tried to inveigle two rebel children into admiration for a group of formidable look- ing buildings, from which the youngsters instinct- ively shrank.
"See all those girls " she was pointing out.
48 JANE ALLEN:
".Where's mama?" asked Jill, choking back a sob.
Jane put an arm around the darling child. She was so pretty, with such eyes, and such a hungry heart-look.
"Mother will be back tomorrow. You know: Grandma said she had to go "
"But she is so long," argued Jill, gulping audibly.
"Dram'ma's sick," interrupted Joy. "Dram'- ma cry and cry- She was trying on Jane's hat and did not keep to her subject very closely.
'Will we have — supper soon?" asked the mature Jill, poking her head out to look at the nearest building.
"Oh, yes," Jane was glad of the recommenda- tion. "As soon as we go up into the big house we will have supper," she assured them both.
"Then, why don't we go?" persisted Jill.
Jane glanced along the path. "Come on. We may go out now. We were just waiting — " She did not say "for the other students to leave the paths," but Jane knew better than to risk encountering a multitude, with those two precious children, one on each side of her. Now she left the hedge cave with a child clinging to each hand,
SENIOR 49
and dodged along as quickly and as safely as opportunity allowed.
At the door she waited again. The girls were hurrying in to dinner, and only a few stragglers impeded Jane's direct passage into Madison. The two little ones shuffled along, quite as if they lhad been generally accustomed to acting without understanding why. Only Joy dragged heavily on her protector's skirts; but the tiny tot was tired and even her good will did not insure speed- ing up those big, stone steps.
Once within the hall Jane breathed more freely. She paused and reassured the little strangers.
Jill was exclaiming. "Oh, how love-el-lee!'1 Her small hands clasped and unclasped in admir- ation. "See that great, big, white lady-statue!"
"Yes, that's our big queen lady," Jane bent down to whisper. "She is the mother of this great, big school."
Back of the marble statue of "Henrietta," Jane sought refuge. A belated student was hurrying breathless to the dining room, but she passed without observing the new group of human statuary.
"I smell some'fin," sniffed little Joy. "Tan we eat it?"
50 JANE ALLEN:
"Keep close to Janie and we will soon have something to eat," promised the excited senior. It was one thing to stand sponsor for the young- est babes that, possibly, ever entered Wellington, but quite another thing to bring them to table or bring table to them. But important as that issue was, Jane felt her first task should be to get the children safely ensconced in room number nine- teen. There she would depend upon Judy to assist with the secrecy. At any rate, she must get the babes up that one flight of stairs now.
"Come along quickly," she urged. "I'll carry you, little Joy," she decided, and put an arm under the slumping figure, while a pair of eager arms almost choked her. Joy was so glad for a :<lift." The stairs mounted, Jane hurried to the room numbered nineteen. At the door she tapped and Joy gave a little kick, Judy swung it open.
"Jane Allen," gasped Judy.
"Hush! Judy, don't say a word! Let us in, please," begged Jane, while Jill slipped in under Jane's arms and Judy's astounded gaze.
"What is it?" demanded Judy. "Have you raided an orphanage?"
"Oh, Judy ! I am almost dead !" gasped Jane. "I have had to fairly crawl "
SENIOR 51
"We's terrible hungry," piped up Jill. "Can we eat very soon?'5
"The darlings!" exclaimed Judith, dropping down to put an arm around each. "Aren't they adorable?"
"Yes, but I'm afraid they're starved," ex- claimed Jane. "Judy, how can we get them some food?'3
"Oh Jane, where did you get them?" Judith ignored Jane's question, looking first at one and then at the other little stranger. They were, as she said, adorable, but they were also, as Jane said, hungry.
Little Joy's lip began to tremble. "I want Dram'ma," she uttered, each syllable demanding an entire intake of her meager breath.
"You told Janie you would be — good, Joy- we," said the wise, little Jill, who, while obviously older than Joy, seemed younger than anyone else on earth, as viewed by Judith Stearns.
Jane had dropped into a chair but Judith had not released the youngsters who stood beside her, dazed.
"Just you wait and see what we will have to eat in one single minute," Judith prom- ised. "There's Cousin Janie and this is Cousin Judy."
52 JANE ALLEN:
"Judy!" exclaimed Jill. "Oh! that's fun! Where's the other one?'3
"Which other one?" asked Jane, glad of a dis- tracting thought for the youngsters.
"The one that squeaks loudest/' exclaimed Jill^ clapping expectant hands.
"I don't know," faltered Jane puzzled.
"I do," sang out Judith. "She means Punch. This is a Punch and Judy show, isn't it Jill?" She squealed the tiniest, mouselike squeak.
"I dess so," she sighed. "I'm tired like Joy-we, too," and she plumped down on the floor,, contentedly.
"Let me take your cap off and your sweater," said Judith energetically. She had not been through the exhausting experience Jane was suf- fering from. "Then we shall have a lovely party. Just you wait "
She was peeling off the blue sweater that en- cased Joy, while Jill ripped up the two buttons that held her in her own, then continued to rip until she held the little garment in her small hands. If she were timid, indications were being politely withheld; only the big, blue eyes roving around the strange room suggesting the child's possible uneasiness.
"We will have to get food up here," Jane said
SENIOR 53
in an undertone. "Of course, you know, Jude, I had no idea of fetching them here."
A sidelong glance from Judith answered Jane. She knew whatever the explanation would be, there was not the slighest doubt of it's being sat- isfactory as far as Judy was concerned. The situation was simply thrilling. Two babes with but a single thought — something to eat!
"You stay with them and I'll forage," offered Judith. "In the mean time let them play with anything — there's part of a box of fudge Doze sent. She is coming in after supper." This voiced apprehension.
"She must not," Jane exclaimed. " Oh, Judy I am almost —
"
'You are not, Jane. This is simply — delight- ful. We will lock every one out and take care of the kiddies. I only hope your schedule in- cludes a night here. I am just dying to put a baby to bed."
Thus she effectively banished Jane's immediate anxiety. But there was plainly trouble ahead.
CHAPTER V
A NOVEL NUESERY
•
A FEW minutes later Judith returned to the room, her arms embracing bundles that mounted up, tower-like toward her chin.
"Here we are!" she announced needless- ly. "Now Janie, you spread the table, and maybe Joy would like to sit up on that big cushion."
"I like it," announced Joy, scampering up on Jane's autographed pillow cover, done in the college colors of favored boys.
"And can I sit over here," piped Jill, deco- rously. She was on the arm of a chair that brought her up in line with the mission table, just being spread.
Jane laid out the paper napkins and soon the tiny visitors had a splendid chance to betray their home training, which they did — beautifully.
Joy wanted to stick her pudgy fingers in the
54
JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 55
gooey cake, but no one could blame her, for only two spoons were available, and "waiting turn" was slower than the usual way supper is served, especially to tiny tots.
"How did you manage all this?" Jane asked presently. She was joyous in the task of dis- tributing the bounty, and for the time being her face shifted its shadows.
"I went right into the kitchen and there was our friend Laura — she with the ashen coronet of braids," Judith explained. "She loves to bestow, and she kept piling things on me until I thought I should have to call in the express man. How is it all?"
"Wonderful, but not exactly a balanced diet," said Jane, trying to hide a cream cake that Jill was spearing at with a paper cutter. 'We shall have to be careful not to have sick babies on our hands "
"Sick! Drand'ma's sick," spoke up tiny Joy, slipping down from her initialed cushion and making for the door.
"Oh, no, dear. You stay here with big sisters," coaxed Jane, a detaining hand laid gently upon the little tousled head. "I have a lovely dollie —
le '
«
Joy-we's dollie?"
56 JANE ALLEN:
"Yes," spoke up the sister who was still after the cream cake. "You wait, Joy- we, and we will give you another Chubby."
"Where?" Joy was the soul of brevity if not of wit.
"Here!" announced Jane, exhibiting a real kewpie in a bright red kimona — Dozia's idea of a whist prize.
"Oh 'es, oh 'es!" said Joy, laying hold of the prize, eagerly.
What was to be done when the supper was over even Jane could not forsee. She knew the little ones should go to bed, but how?
While Jill continued to eat and Joy devoted herself to Dozia's prize, the seniors practically held their respective breaths.
Judith broke the spell. "Can't you give me a hint?" she asked. "I have been patient, Jane, but I am not absolutely free from curiosity. Where — did- -you get them?"
"My case," whispered Jane. "And I am so anxious. I think I ought to 'phone. Their grandmother was taken suddenly ill." This was all she had an opportunity to say, for Joy un- dressed the kewpie and was putting it to bed in the china dish Laura had so magnanimously loaned the party.
SENIOR 57
"Baff tub/' said Joy. "Me wash dolly," and before anyone could intervene she had spilled the only and last cup of tea over the helpless kewpie. Judith wanted it but Jane needed it, now neither cared for it, as it ran a bright, red stream all over the china dish, and a generous splash slopped out on the dark wood, and made a puddle on their best table.
"Judy, you can go down to the dining room now and have your dinner," suggested Jane. "I can get along all right and I couldn't eat a morsel myself."
"I don't believe I could either," said Judith, considerately. "And it seems to me each of your friends needs a special nurse, so I'll stay on the case. All that is worrying me is, what we will do when the girls call. They will simply go mad over them. Aren't they adorable?"
It was time beyond count that JuditK Had asked that very same question, and to eacli Jane had made the self-same answer.
They were the "darlingest children." Joy, the baby, had thick, brown curls that perfectly cork- screwed all over her head ; her eyes were big and brown and she had dimples. Jill, the elder, was a blonde with bobbed, straight hair that always looks so artistic if it looks well at all. Her's
58 JANE ALLEN:
did, and her eyes were like violets, and then, of course, they were both beautiful in the very act of being children. What child is not?
Each wore little rompers under the sweaters that served as their travelling coats, and the rompers must have been one pink and the other blue, some time ago.
"They are- -so well — tended," remarked Judith inadequately. She might have said some- thing more definite but Jane understood.
"You should see — their " (she whispered
the word) "grandmother."
Jov was on the floor between a brace of cushions
•
but she must have heard or had recollections, for she immediately yelled:
'I ywant my Drand'ma. I ywant her!" and there followed unmistakably a cry — a very baby- ish and promising cry. It was in the cleff that runs up and down and takes in all the minors and other notes of distress.
"There! There!" soothed Jane, snatching up the little rebel. "Don't cry, darling. Janie will sing for you "
"Don't want sing. Don't want Jay-nee!" and the notes rose to flood tide.
Judith was dumfounded. Such a catastrophe had never occured to her.
SENIOR 59
'What should we — do, Jill?" she besought the sister.
"She's sleeply," explained the knowing older sister, indifferently.
"Let me rock her," begged Judith. "Every- one will be in "
"I can rock her," insisted Jane, rather breath- lessly, swinging the baby dangerously near china cups on the corner shelf, then detouring into a bookcase.
'You'll kill yourself that way," objected Judith. "Should we rock her, Jill?" It took real shouts to get this across, over the top of Joy's crying.
"No. She must go to bed in the dark. She has to," insisted the dictator, scarcely turning from her own chosen task of gathering up cake crumbs.
The students did not need to exchange glances to exchange opinions. The air was rife with queries and emphatic answers.
"Let me take her," begged Judith; and being all but breathless Jane handed over the wriggling youngster.
"Heavy!" she sighed, in relinquishing the burden. "Judy, if we must rock her we ought to make a hammock out of something," Jane suggested.
60 JANE ALLEN:
A lull. Joy furnished intermission. She had actually subsided.
"We must undress her," said Jane anxiously. "I am sure she cannot sleep in those tight rompers. See what a good little girl Jill is," with a grateful look at the child who was still nibbling. Won't Joy-we let big sister put a pretty nightie on?"
But Joy-we wras not keen on anything, nighties included. She was cuddling up in Judith's arm like the little lamb they had always expected her to be.
"Sh-s-s-sh!" warned the successful nurse, proudly. "She's almost asleep."
"But we must undress her," insisted Jane, the Social Service student in action.
"And fix her up in your blue-bird pajamas?" Judith managed to say. She lowered her knees as carefully as if they were made of wet sand and bound to crack; then across the slender lap of blue satin, beaded in red and white, she smoothed out Joy's doll-like form.
"How perfectly adorable!" It was Jane who said it this time and Judith who simply nodded her head.
Little Jill crept up to Jane's elbow. Because Joy was smaller this little one seemed older than
SENIOR 6 1
she really was. Both were babies, only saved from being twins by a year or so.
"I'm sleepy — like Joy-we," Jill said timidly. "Can we stay all night?" She glanced furtively at the inviting couch.
"Do you want to, Jill?" asked Jane, slip- ping an affectionate arm around the small should- ers. It was so satisfying to thus mother human dolls.
"It's nicer here and I don't like Carol," ventured Jill, replying.
Jane lifted the child and held her close. 'You shall — not go back to — Carol," she whispered. "Carol does not know how to — to love babies, I'm afraid."
"She's cross," said Jill. "And Grandma — is sorry when she comes."
"Who is — Carol?" Judith managed to whisper over Joy's form. She was taking off the small shoes and smaller socks, in that fashion amateurs have, fearful lest a raised toe might precipitate more crying. The little form was stretched so contentedly out on Judith's lap that even Jane betrayed admiration for the picture.
"Carol," answered Jane, "is some friend of Mrs. Jennings." There was a look of explana- tion thrown in. "And I believe Mrs. Jennings'
62 JANE ALLEN:
mother dislikes the influence." It was a guarded statement but Jill was all eyes and ears, turning her head first to Jane, then to Judith.
"Oh," said Judith. "Does she live near them?"
"No. But she visits — often." Jane now had Jill's rompers off and was starting on the shoes. 'What shall we put them to sleep in?" she asked presently. "I have been so anxious to get the baby quiet I almost forgot they must be robed in something. I think our pa jama waists will be about the most useful, don't you?"
'Yes, but say, Jane. Isn't it a mercy the girls didn't hear the yelling? They must have had a pretty good dinner."
Just then Joy sighed so sweetly Judith put her ear down close, so as not to miss the most perfect of all music — a baby's sigh! The little chubby hand brushed away an unconscious shadow from the dimply face, and then a fat little leg was drawn up so suddenly it bumped right into Judith's smile.
"The darling!" whispered the potential mother. "No wonder you wanted to go in for this sort of thing, Jane. It's wonderful."
"If it did not carry so much responsibility," remarked Jane, her gray eyes blinking. "You
SENIOR 63
see, Judy, Mrs. Castbolt, that's the grandmother, is a splendid woman, and the daughter — well, I judge she is overdone with worry, and not quite fit for it. Her husband died in the Canal Zone last spring. I can't tell you much about it now, but this Carol is sort of an evil influence. Wants Mrs. Jennings to go in for the stage, or movies, or some other foolish thing. Now Jill," (this was said in a voice tones louder than was the sentence directed to Judith), "shall we get into a great, big, funny nightie? Not asleep! Oh, there, open the eyes," Jill was getting heavier momentarily. "We will be in a comfortable bed soon," Jane assured her, trying to prolong consciousness.
Judith digressed. "This is lovely," she said, "but it makes me think of the day the doctor went out and left me holding a violet ray tube, and I couldn't call for help, and I couldn't lay it down. How ever am I going to lay this little ray down without striking contact?"
"I'll slip Jill over on the couch and get the beds ready," proposed Jane. "But there's a step. It's at our door!" she gasped.
A tap, and the door was opened. It was Dozia.
She stood, speechless. Then she caught the
64. 'JANE ALLEN:
wireless signs, one from the tips of Judith's fingers to her iips, and the other in a wave of Jane's free hand.
"Kidnapers!" she whispered, stepping in and closing the door noiselessly.
"Doze, you are just in time," said Jane in so even a voice it did not even ripple the air. "Come over here — and make a place for — my baby."
Dozia did as directed. The couch cover was turned back and Jill was laid, gingerly, in the clearance. How expertly they worked?
"Now, help us make a place for Judy's baby," directed Jane. "We were helpless. Did not dare disturb them. Just like having a live wire on our hands." Whispers are unsatisfactory when reproduced in commonplace print.
Dozia was moving around in a dazed sort of way. She had too much confidence in both girls to question the astonishing situation. Another step in the hall sent her flying to the door.
"Put out a sick headache sign," begged Judith. SHe was leaning over little Joy and absorbing another of those angelic sighs.
Dozia scratched a sign and waited until the passerby had passed by, then she stepped out and pinned up the warning.
SENIOR 65
"Find the pajamas," ordered Jane. 'We have got to get them out of these little shirts. I sup- pose they should have been bathed."
"Not mine," objected Judy. "She's a real little sport, and can yell better than the cheering squad. I'll be satisfied with leaving the shirt on, and putting a waist over it. Shall we cut off the sleeves?"
Dozia understood the necessity. "Couldn't we borrow anything better? Those waists will swallow them," she predicted.
"But they must serve as an entire outfit," Jane reminded the nurses. "And we had best not pro- long the act. I'm as nervous as if I stole them."
".Where did you get them?" asked Dozia, slipping up to Jane's shoulder. The conversa- tion was being carried on in the gentlest of undertones.
"Our case," Jane answered, venturing to lift one of Joy's arms and aim the hand toward Judy's big, crepe pajama sleeve. It wras in- serted successfully, and she then tried the same feat with the other hand and that act also was achieved. All that remained for her to do now was to slip the entire waist down under the sleep- ing child. The size of the garment compared with the needs of the wearer, made it an easy task
66 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR
to get the sleeves on, but the rest would not be so easy.
"Let me lift her," suggested Doze.
The request was granted. But as Joy felt herself being lifted she subconsciously put two warm arms about Dozia's neck, and the waist went over Dozia's head !
"Mumsey!" murmured the child, drawing down closer the radiant face that bent over her. She did not open her own weary eyes.
"Lovey!" said Dozia, trying to free herself from the improvised "nightie" without waking the child. "Just wait 'till we fix it "
Jane deftly threw the waist over Joy's head now, and while Dozia returned the affectionate squeeze still being bestowed upon her willing neck, the task was completed and Joy finally had a night garment on.
The three students fell back simultaneously.
"And thousands are dressed and undressed daily," sighed Judith.
"By thousands of mere, mortal mothers," whispered Jane.
4 That's what the whole, wide world has been raving about since creation," Dozia said, in the surest of low voices.
"Wonderful!" breathed Judith.
But the worst was yet to come.
CHAPTER VI
AN OFFICER OF THE LATV
IT was a new experience, decidedly. Whether any one of the three girls had ever been in close, personal contact with a real, live baby before or not, was not known, but certainly each did her best to apply the world old art of maternal love to the little strangers.
"Just see her!" whispered Dozia, referring to Joy who lay in Judith's bed, with that natural right of inheritance peculiar to babes and other pets. Her head came out of the pajama waist and her feet came out from the coverlets, in a fashion defiant to the real intentions of both.
"Cuddles!" breathed Jane, leaning fondly over Jill who seemed assigned as her special charge.
"I can't understand how you got them here," pressed Judith.
"I can hardly myself. But girls, I am not sure I am safe from criticism in doing so. We were told explicitly, never to take a child in, even
67
68 JANE ALLEN:
for a night's refuge, without first notifying the police," Jane said.
"And have them take these darlings to a horrid station ?" exclaimed Dozia. "What sense is there in that?"
"It makes a record," replied Jane, "and thus far most of my work has been towards that end — records. Of course I shall let Miss Morgan know, as early as her office is open in the morn- ing. That was my trouble. I took the tots to her office and it was closed. Then I conceived the idea of setting them up here for the night," she explained.
"And a good thing you did," commented Dozia. She was still spellbound over Joy's toes. The head of the couch might make a dangerous whispering place, so the foot was chosen.
"What about this Carol?" queried Judith. She was fondly smoothing out Joy's little rumpled rompers.
"I am not exactly afraid of her," replied Jane, "but I could easily suspect her of making trouble. She seems set against anything named Service, Social or just plain."
"I know the type," 'declared Dozia. "They call anything that they do not do themselves, an interference. What they do is purely a personal
SENIOR 69
kindness, of course. But who and what is she, Jane?"
"A young woman with faded hair and abused complexion. She has been at Mrs. Castbolt's every time I went there. I never have been able to get a satisfactory interview on that account," Jane complained.
'Where is the children's mother?" asked Judith.
"She went off suddenly in search of a position. She had to go hurriedly, I believe, as a letter came requiring immediate answer in person. Her mother, Mrs. Castbolt, is always able to take care of the babies, but today she was taken with a sudden, sharp attack of something, and I saw she would need medical attention. I called the Red Cross car and sent her to the sanitarium. It is all we have in the way of a public hospital, out this way."
"And you girls have had no dinner?" ex- claimed Dozia, suddenly realizing that fact. "Now, run down and beg from Laura. She's as good as gold to the starving. Hun along, do," as Jane shook her head. 'What sort of showing would you make on the morrow if you are headachy?"
"Come on, Jane," coaxed Judith. "I hoped
70 JANE ALLEN:
for that cup of tea our youngest bathed the kew- pie in — before the bathing. Now I need two cups."
Jane was glancing furtively at the sleeping babies. "I wonder if I did right? As I see them here so cozy and — so hidden away, I am sort of scary" she admitted.
"You scary!" scoffed Dozia. "Getting nerves in with your new course. Run and eat. You are getting starvation, that's what ails you. I will do police duty, and woe be unto intruders !" threatened the rerV ibtable Dozia.
Upon the bTTo girls insistence Jane finally con- sented. Dozia looked the regular night nurse as they left her, sitting there in the dim light, on Jane's lowest chair, and between the two bed couches. Glancing back as they left the room, Jane and Judith smiled approval.
It is not important to state that the late diners were accorded generous treatment at the hands of the humane Laura, but the strength and con- fidence so surely a part of the well-fed creature, were needed conditions later that night, when things happened, and to that necessity Laura contributed in supplying the belated meal.
"My headache is gone," declared Jane in grateful acknowledgment.
SENIOR 71
"I feel refreshed as — a baby," said Judith, smiling broadly at the free use of the newly ac- quired term.
"And if they want early breakfast," cautioned Laura, "just run down to me. Or shall I fetch it up — a small bottle of milk? I'd love to see the darlings," she added, plaintively.
"It would be lovely of you to do that, Laura," said Jane, realizing what a glass of milk might mean if procured early. "And, of course, we want you to see the children. You know we had to be so quiet about it " 'JCl^
"Oh, I understand," said Laur^ with a smile that now, somehow, included the juvenile depart- ment. Strange how every one understood con- ditions where helpless infancy was concerned!
An hour later Dozia was banished and the two Social Service students wrere curled up in the two spots where room to curl was afforded them. All sorts of suggestions had been made and dis- carded. The babies would not be put to sleep in big chairs, or even in improvised hammocks, al- though Dozia declared she had seen it done in autos and upon trains; yet Jane and Judith declined to take their beds. They insisted upon keeping outpost duty; rugs, cushions, coverlets and even a coi:ple of sweaters to boot.
72 JANE ALLEN:
The children slept well — that was the first happy consideration, and the students slept equally well, when they found the opportunity; that was an added blessing ; and for an indefinable period of time there was nothing to complain of. Then a commotion broke in upon the nocturnal tranquillity. It was someone pounding at the door!
"Miss Allen!" came a voice. "Wake up! It is I, Miss Walker!"
Jane was awake. So was Judith, but it took a moment or two for either or both to realize it.
"All right," replied Jane, raising her head with a bump on the chair leg. She was so coiled up she seemed under more than one chair, but of course that could not have been.
"What's the matter?" asked JuditH. She felt the subconscious tug of apprehension at her sleepy senses. Then she realized the babies were with them. That was it.
"Open the door,'' eame the summons.
Skillfully Jane extricated herself, and reached the door. On her way there she pulled up the night light.
"Oh, my dear young ladies!" exclaimed Miss Walker, flashing her hand light unintentionally into Judy's blinking eyes. "I am so alarmed!"
SENIOR 73
"What is it? Why?" asked Jane.
"There is an officer down in the hall — an offi- cer!" The words seemed to presage disaster un- speakable.
"About the — children?" gasped Jane.
"Yes, about children! What do you know about them, Miss Allen?" There was dread and terror in Miss Walker's voice.
"Why, I have two little ones here for the night "
"Here?"
"Yes, why not? Isn't this my room?" spoke Jane, although she knew perfectly well it was not at all a question of room.
"But the babies? How could you bring them in here?" gasped the house mother.
"They needed shelter," said Jane simply. She refused to quake openly, although her knees trembled secretly.
"This officer — demands — the children," said Miss Walker. "Where are they?" She looked at the couches and knew the tiny forms outlined there were those of children, but obviously felt the necessity of asking all her list of questions.
"He shall not take them," declared Jane noi; too gently. 'Where is he?"
"You cannot go down — Miss Allen "
74 JANE ALLEN: ^
^ __jn__ M - . - . -
"Of course, I shall. I suppose, Miss Walker, you know that my Social Service work is recog- nized officially. I guess I can dispose of this gentleman's demands." Jane was getting into clothes and Judith was following her example.
"Why cannot you tell me — I shall give him your reply?" urged the prudent woman.
"Oh, thank you, Miss Walker," replied Jane, calm now and aggressive. "I think I had better see him myself. I shall be ready directly."
The house mother stepped in and peeked at Joy. She smiled. Her hand flash light had not been turned off and it showed up that smile beautifully. The magic of babes !
Little Jill turned over and murmured some- thing like a whispering call. Judith was beside her instantly.
"Sh-s-s-sh!" warned Judith. "We must not wake them!"
"Oh, no, don't," begged Miss Walker, "If you insist upon going down, Miss Allen, I shall go along and wait for you. Please hurry."
Jane was hurrying. In a very few minutes she was down in the first hall and answering the officer's questions.
"You know, miss," he said kindly, "no one can take a child into their home."
SENIOR 75
"Yes, I do know that, officer," said Jane, equally kindly, "but these children had to go somewhere, and the office of our Social Service director was closed. I could not take them back and keep them in that deserted house."
"You could not," agreed the officer, "and I see no call, myself, for this disturbance. But you know, miss, we have to do as we are bid."
"Who sent you out?" asked Jane.
"I had a call from the sergeant," replied the law minion. "He said some waman was raising Cain "
"Did he say who she was?"
"No. He did not. But you know, miss, young women can raise a lot of trouble if a child ap- pears— to disappear," he explained.
"Oh, yes indeed," agreed Jane. "I do know that. But I took the children at their grand- mother's request, and I am a regularly accredited Social Service worker, with all the privileges that go with that duty."
Miss Walker breathed easier. Jane did ap* pear to know what she was doing after all.
4 'What did you intend to do? Were you actu- ally going to take these babies out in the night?" asked Jane in a shocked voice, intended also to convey shock.
76 JANE ALLEN:
"Well, I'll have to report," evaded the officer. "Could I phone from here?'3
"Certainly," eagerly replied Miss Walker. "Step right into the office."
Jane stepped in with him. She wanted to know who made the charge of abduction — he had used the odious word.
It took an unusually long time to get in touch with the officer on the other end of the line, but it was finally accomplished. Then Officer Holmes, who was thus describing himself to the listening party, told that he had located the children, and that they were in the custody of a Social Service worker from the District Headquarters.
"Please ask who called up the police?" whis- pered Jane.
The request was repeated by Officer Holmes.
"Blair?" he called back. "No, Sayre? Oh, yes, Miss Dare?" he finally caught the name given him. "The sergeant said it was a Miss Dare."
"Carol Dare!" exclaimed Jane. "I thought as much! Well, she has tried to interfere with my work from the beginning, but this is more
definite. She actually accused me of "
'Well, you know miss," soothed the officer, "they says most anything when a baby disap-
SENIOR 77
pears. Nothing touches the crowd like that does."
Miss Walker was fidgeting. It was evident she would like to be rid of the babies since that seemed the safest stand to take.
"Who is Miss Dare?" she ventured aside to Jane.
"Some young woman who has nothing better to do than to make trouble," replied Jane bitterly. "Mrs. Jennings, the mother of the children, has been taking her advice about getting employment but she had not found any as yet. I am glad I have the children here. No matter what happens, as far as I am concerned, it is better for the little ones to be away from her. She would have no
more conscience about their food or care "
Jane trailed off into unspoken condemnation.
The officer was tilting up and down in that way so descriptive of indecision. 'Well?" he said looking from Jane to Miss Walker.
"What did the desk man say about it?" asked Jane, abruptly.
"He said I might take a look at them and leave them till morning."
"Very well," acceded Jane, while Miss Walker said:
"But my dear—Miss Allen "
28 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR
"Now don't worry, miss," the officer inter- rupted, "everything will be all O.K. I never knowed a child to stray off but the fire depart- ment was called out," he chortled. "Folks does get so fussy! But this new charity business, social-what-ever-you-call it, is doing a grand work." The officer might not have been socially polished but his heart was sound, at least.
Jane promptly led him upstairs to "have a look."
CHAPTER VII
WHEN; BABIES WAKE
THE babies were not disturbed. Officer Holmes was evidently a man of family and he knew better tl^an to risk the wrath of a disturbed child. He just glanced in from the door, shook his good natured head and smiled broadly. True, Judith was worth smiling at, as she spread her arms, pinion-like over Joy's bed, and little Jill came very near opening an inquisitive eye when Miss Walker spoke above a regular whisper. But in spite of these possibil- ities, the light was finally pulled down again, and Jane accompanied the man of the law to the front door.
"I intended to report very early at Miss Mor- gan's office," she said, "but if you think best, officer, I shall report at your office."
"Well, the worst of it is," explained Mr. Holmes, "a young woman can be — spitey." He
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8o JANE ALLEN:
sort of hissed his coined word. "I've known them to stir up an awful rumpus over nothing."
"So have I," admitted Jane. "And this young lady would be apt to do just that. Well, suppose I go to your office first?"
"I would. That will be safer. Then, when you have a talk with the sergeant you will — head her off," advised the officer. "Anybody with half an eye could tell it is all right for the young ones to spend the night here. Abducting!" he scoffed. "Pity a lot of others couldn't be abducted like this," and he chuckled quite humanely.
"Abduction!" repeated Miss Walker, horrified. "Miss Allen, I hope nothing will prevent you from attending to this matter the very first thing in the morning," she cautioned.
"Nothing will," replied Jane, shaking her head in a way that might be variously interpreted.
The remainder of the night passed "like a fall- ing star," Judith said, when she tried to open her eyes next morning.
"I was the 'shoot' and you were the 'sparklers/ Jane," she yawned. "It went just like that."
But the children were both wide awake witK all that the statement implies. They were crawl- ing over their benefactors, and over the furniture. They were asking all sorts of questions and mak-
SENIOR 8 1
ing all sorts of remarks, in fact if there is any- thing more active than young children at dawn, the specie has not yet been catalogued.
"Wait a minute, dear," begged Jane, when Joy climbed up on the book case and sat there with her chubby, little arms around Judith's one piece of art, described as Venus but usually called "Biffed." "Wait until Janie gets you "
"Pretty dolly," declared the usurper. "Joy — we get dolly."
But Jane captured the climber. "What a tiny handful but what activity!" she remarked.
"She should have been called Dynamo," said Judith. "She is a self starter and spark plugger, and all the rest. Now, see how good little Jill is," she pointed out to the other inquisitive baby.
Jill was under the table and had the box that used to hold fudge.
A tap at the door.
"My word!" exclaimed Jane. "Who can it be "
"It's I, Laura," came the welcome news.
Judith reached the door first and Laura en- tered simultaneously.
"I brought up the milk," said the non-com- batant student. "What darlings!"
"Want them?" joked Judith. "I have had my
82 JANE ALLEN:
hand on this sock for half an hour — on and off, but I still have some distance to go," she ad- mitted, giving Joy's little sock a tug. "I never knew socks were so violent.
"They are the most proficient wigglers I have ever encountered," went on Judy. "Now Joy-we, if we don't get socks on we can't get break- fast. Breakfast," repeated Judith. "Do you know what that means?"
"Means ohme-ohmy," said the toddler.
"Ohme-ohmy!" echoed Jane. 'What ever can that be?"
'We eats it," said Jill, from her crumbs.
"Should we have it, whatever it is?" asked Laura, anxiously.
"Oh, yes," affirmed Jill. "We just have to have it — ever-ree day, ev-er-ree sing-gul day."
"Now children," orated Jane, "we must hurry. Janie has to go out very err-ell-ee."
"That's right," chirped Judith. "I'm glad I don't have to go. Not that Mr. Holmes isn't a ver-ree nice ma-han
"Shall I fix up the table?" offered Laura, who had been doing it all the time.
A nod approved.
"Now for the milk," called out Jane expertly, and quite as if she expected her company to fall
SENIOR 83
to and lap up the big, chocolate cups full of that health-giving fluid.
"Me eat ohme-ohmy," rallied Joy.
"I, too." said Jill. The personal pronoun was beautifully acclaimed.
"Well, take the milk and the crackers and we'll get the other — thing later," promised Jane. "Come now — Joy."
But Joy had slipped down again and was turn- ing over the leaves of a Latin grammar in search of "pitters."
"I cared for children for a time," said Laura. "I guess I can coax little Joy. Come now, baby," she said in her "coaxiest" voice. "Come and have a lovely breakfast."
But Joy liked the books.
Then Laura attempted force. She stooped, picked up the astonished child and sat her down between two determined knees.
Joy tried to wiggle loose. "Just take one nice
cup of milk " cooed Laura, and she lifted
the cup.
The slightest move of a very small hand, it could not have been intentional, but it sent the milk down Laura's neck and brought it out the patch pocket in her nice, white linen skirt!
"Oh!" exclaimed a trio.
84 JANE ALLEN:
4 'Give her to me," demanded Jane with asper- ity. "How could Joy spoil Laura's pretty dress?" she chided.
"No Joy- we, mooca," said the child like a little Chinese.
"She means the milk did it," explained Jill. She had dropped the candy box and was now ready for her own meager repast.
Laura spilled the puddle out of her pocket into Jane's fruit jar. There was a marked lack of lig'ht housekeeping facilities at hand.
"I simply must run away and leave them here with you, Judith," said Jane. "But how are you going to get down to breakfast?"
"I'll stay," offered the good sport, Laura. "I don't mind children at all, and I just love this kind." She gave Joy a kiss on the top of her head where the bath should have begun.
"Go along Jane, but eat first," counselled Judith. "I think we will both have to be excused from lecture this a. m. I feel as if I could give one myself on home emergency economics."
Laura had retrieved Joy, and Jill was in the chair with the elevation of cushions. Then the eating did begin in earnest. Jane slipped out and she wore street clothes, suitable for court, if need be.
SENIOR 85
With the milk and crackers and two oranges (Judith was not sure about oranges and milk but Laura sanctioned the combination), the rebels were fed, and only an occasional reference to the "ohme-ohmy" disturbed the peace of the family.
"I just wonder what that can be," mused Judith. "Sounds like a Japanese cook."
"I wonder if it could be oat meal?" asked Laura.
"That's it! Oat meal !" chirped Jill. "Joy-we allus calls it the funny name."
"Oat meal!" repeated Judith incredulously. "Of course."
'We shall have that next time," promised Laura. "I say, Judy, I'll make some after the things are cleared, if you think they could eat it."
"I am afraid they will not be with — us long," intimated Judith. 'You know we had no end of a row last night." She had to talks in chunks.
"Oh, I see," said Laura. "Is that why you didn't want to fetch them down to breakfast?"
'Well, that and other reasons," replied Judith. "But I say, Laura, this Social Service business is — strenuous. I thought the regular sports filled in the home vacancy, but for a real, good, stiff filling, try Social Service.
"
86 JANE ALLEN:
"Where's Dran'ma?" called out Joy. She was climbing on the window sill and Judith was hold- ing on to her scanty rompers.
"Grandma is sick," said Jill sharply. "Can't you know anything Joy- we?"
"'Tourse I tan," said the voice from the window ledge. "An' I goin' walkin' now," came the surprising announcement.
"You can't go yet," shrilled Jill. "Don't you know we haven't had our swim?"
"Swim," repeated Judith, ominously.
"Bath," elucidated Laura. "Can't we give it to them?"
"Oh, I wouldn't dare!" breathed Judith. "Please don't mention it."
'Why?" pressed Laura, evidently anxious to give all her latent child knowledge an airing.
'Take those clothes off again?" whispered
Judith, for little Jill was observing, keenly.
'Why Laura Lee! You don't know what you
ask! Suppose the law should come in while we
were — operating !"
But Laura just hated to omit the bath; she was not quite satisfied with the breakfast, and it was almost a positive surety she would presently pro- pose the promenade Joy had mentioned.
"Now Judith," came the preamble, "I'll take
SENIOR 87
care of them while you go down and eat. Run along. You had an indifferent dinner last night and you need to make up for it. We will have a lovely time while you are away. Won't we, chil- dren?" she crooned.
"Joy- we go to Dran'ma," said the youngest, reaching for her cap. It was on the book-stand and books came with it.
"Oh Joy, can't you know anything?" again came the scorn of her older sister. Jill could al- ways content herself. This time it was the in- cense burner — the little black god with his mouth open.
Judith was willing to relinquish her task at the window. She loved children, as most girls do, but she had had these two for "quite a spell," as Dozia would have said, and after all, even a reverend senior is somewhat human — just in spots, of course. Now, Judith felt unmistakably human around the "risibles." Dozia again.
"Sleeping in a lump," she apologized, as she prepared for the departure, "isn't exactly like the usual downy, Laura."
"I could have brought two small cots, the fold- ing kind," said Laura. Plainly the children should have applied to Laura for their night's lodging.
JANE ALLEN:
'There's someone," said Judith. Every step towards her door gave her a start.
"It's I," said the unmistakable voice of Dozia. "Here I come," she continued glibly. "Well, all dressed an' everythin'!"
"You can stay with Laura," suggested Judith, "while I go down. Jane is out — courting."
"Don't keep them prisoners in this room!" ob- jected the girl who had slept in a bed. "Let's take them down the halls."
"Oh, no. Please don't," begged Judith. 'They might — escape. I am responsible for them. And you don't know what that means, Doze. You couldn't."
'The idea! You are just frayed out, Jude. These youngsters are going right out to be intro- duced to Wellington," declared the energetic student who had not been awake half of the night. "Come along, Kiddies. Want to see the biggest and best place on earth?"
"I yawnt to," agreed Joy, ready for anything — once.
'I haven't got my hair combed right," objected the mature Jill.
"Oh, your hair looks lovely," complimented Dozia. "Couldn't be prettier. It is just as even — as even," she hesitated, looking around for
SENIOR 89
more clothes* The rompers seemed rather inad- equate but very effective.
"The risk be upon your own head, then, Doze," threatened Judith. "I am away. Good- bye darlings, and be lovely and good to mind Cousin Doze and Cousin Laura. They will take the best of care of you," declared the retreating Judith.
A few moments later two students, Laura and Dozia, paraded down Madison corridors with a child each on the left side of each. The parade was halted before it had gone three doors.
Every girl within sight, inside or outside of the rooms that were being hastily vacated, rushed to admire.
"Babes!" they exclaimed.
"Our kindergarten special," announced Dozia, loftily.
"Cherubs!" sang out Norma, who was almost on her knees and quite on her haunches greeting the little strangers.
They liked it. Jill posed and even did a jerk of a curtsey while Joy did not hesitate to accept the <:cpiggy-back" Winifred offered.
"Come along outside," ordered Dozia, tHe sergeant-at-arms. 'They need the early morn- ing air."
A parade followed0
CHAPTER VIII
CURIOSITY AND THE GIKLS
IT was glorious while it lasted but it didn't last long. The babes were gone and Wellington was back to normal. "Tell us about it, Jane, or we shall die of curiosity," declared Nettie Brocton. She was among those not present at the ceremonies of giving back to Mrs. Castbolt, grandmother, the children, Jill and Joy Jennings.
"Miss Morgan said I did perfectly right," Jane began. 'The children could not have been left without proper protection, and that young woman, who has nothing to do and all the time in the world to do it in, would be the very last one we should allow tiny tots to mingle with. We did not succeed in giving them all the attentions of juvenile life, but we did feed them; Laura saw; to that. This Carol Dare — can you imagine the person back of such a name? She would prob- ably feast them on lobster Newburg."
90
JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 91
'That can't be her name," commented Nettie. "Isn't she an actress?"
"Not even," replied Jane. "She is sort of a broker, goes around urging others to go in for the stage." Jane was too tired to go out for her regular day's work in the field so had been excused for the afternoon.
"Did she appear against you?" asked Judith.
"No indeed. She sent along a letter to the officer, and then he said 'All right.' He was the most capable judge I have ever been up before." She spread a hand over her face coyly.
"Agreeing with you — he would be," drolled Judith. 'Well, I believe, Jane, you have, as the modern poet would say, let yourself in for a lot of trouble in this case. It is complicated with a capital C. How about the youth? The hand- some young man of pleasant memory?" asked Judith.
"He's there," sighed Jane.
'Where?" demanded Nettie. Interest was picking up.
'Why, he's somewhere," said Jane a little drowsily.
'Who is he?" Nettie asked directly.
"Oh, we haven't named him yet," said Judith* with a show of irritation.
92 JANE ALLEN:
"You mean the young man I am supposed to interview?" Jane was off her guard now.
"That's the chap," chimed in Dozia. They were in the gym but not in action. The long bench held a group of the usual faithfuls.
'Well," Jane yawned openly, "I have his address."
:'Lovely," chirped Nettie. "Let's have it, Jane. We might be able to help you out. I love that kind of Social Service."
'Whatever are you talking about?" Jane sat up and rubbed her rebellious eyes. 'The idea, of writing to a client of mine."
"Client!" yelled Ted Gutherie.
'Ye-ah," agreed Jane, slumping over on the nearest shoulder. It belonged to Winifred Ay res.
"Oh, you are positively mean, Jane Allen," pouted Nettie. 'There you go and get us all keyed up and then drop us. What about the young man?"
"I'll tell you when I find out, maybe," said Jane. "Can't you understand that this is con- fidential work?"
'But those children?" pressed the insatiable Nettie. 'They surely were not confidential. You had them right here in our midst."
SENIOR 93
"My midst," corrected Judith. "Jane, do tell the pests about your wonderful experience in court. How the officer glared at you and how you, poor inexperienced girl, right fresh from the ranks of Wellington " she moaned tragically.
"How you almost fainted when you heard sentence pronounced," assisted Dozia, flippantly. 'Yes, Jane darlink, unburden your heavy heart to me ; we are here to console."
"It's her head," complained Winifred, shift- ing enough to joggle Jane from her recumbent posture.
"It may sound funny," inserted Jane, "but I should like to see one of you try the same little lark. I am almost dead."
"It was the children," explained Judith elab- orately. "They were so restless last night. And the nurse would go out to the movies "
"Seriously Jane," begged Dozia. "What did happen when you flew out this morning?"
"Just what I told you. The officer allowed Miss Morgan to place the children in the care of a worker while the grandmother convalesced. I am sure we could not take care of them here."
"I am just as sure," agreed Judith. "But where is the young mother?"
"She is not to be prevented from seeking em-
94 JANE ALLEN:
ployment wliich she is sorely in need of," declared Jane. "She went after it the day her own mother was taken ill. And Social Service is so splendidly consistent it would not dream of re- calling her. She must be given every oppor- tunity to help herself and her young family."
"But that brother! At college!" scoffed Judith. "He may be handsome, Janie, but I think he's a slacker."
"I don't," said Jane simply.
"You're holding back," charged Dozia. 'You would not say that if you had not good reason. What is the extenuating circumstance? We claim the right to know," sang out Dozia.
"Say girls! What is this! A trial by jury?" flashed Jane. "I'm going home, and maybe to bed. A little sleep would go a great ways with me right now. And I have a lot to do tonight."
This broke up the party. But her compan- ions knew Jane too well to believe that she was telling them all the interesting story. Even Judith seemed curious.
Nettie fell back with Ted. "It's all very well to joke about it," she said, "but it is perfectly plain that Jane has had a most strenuous time. I told them that Social Service fad would be simply terrible."
SENIOR 95
"Why, they have taken up the regular course," said Ted valiantly.
"Oh, yes, I know that. But Doze promised she would coax Jane back to help with the prom arrangements. You ought to know that I miss the experienced crowd. I am rather new at work, and there's such a heap of it," Nettie complained.
"I don't agree with sending the tickets through the mail," commented Ted. 'We did that once before and got a lot of undesirables."
'We have to help the fund, and I am sure our families and immediate friends could never fill up a prom," said Nettie. "Well, I have a good working committee on the music and the decora- tions. That helps."
"Thanks," said Ted. "I'll do my best. But with real babies invading, and handsome young men in the offing, it seems to me even a first class prom may seem tame."
"Oh, Jane and Judy will be back in time for the actual event," forecasted Nettie. "It's these endless arrangements," she sighed, deeply.
"Is there really a young man in this case?" said Ted, cautiously.
"I believe so. But as far as I can see it is the young woman. She who tried to make
26 JANE ALLEN:
trouble for Jane. I would be on the lookout for her. It is a remarkable but positive fact that some persons take delight in upsetting the good work of others. She may have a motive, of course."
"They call it 'ulterior,5 " joked Ted, "but it seems to me it is worse than that."
"I am sorry I missed seeing the youngsters," went on Nettie. "I happened to be out exercis- ing this morning. When I came back the place looked like the night after a fire. Everyone was so excited. And it was nothing, more-nor-less, than the visit of two pretty children."
"Oh, yes it was. There was a midnight call from an officer, and you know how dear old Well- ington takes a thing like that. Goes right off into kinks of consternation," declared Dozia.
"And Miss Walker was on," added Ted. "Well, I missed that. A lot of things happen in Madison."
But a lot more things were happening out- side of Madison ; for only a few days later devel- opments in the girls' cases were crowding so closely one upon the other, that Jane, at least, found her capable hands rather full.
In a stately little homestead just beyond the city limits, Mrs. Castbolt was regaining her
SENIOR 97
fragile strength. Attending to her wants a sister hovered about, the same type, the same voice and almost the same personality. She had been called from a distance to fill in the place left vacant by Mrs. Jennings, mother of the two interesting children.
"I cannot understand why Mabel should stay this way," faltered the visitor. 'You say a young girl is watching dear little Jill and Joy?"
".Yes, Mary. Mabel has been heart sick. One can't blame her, after losing such a fine husband." A pause rendered fitting tribute to the lost one. "But I was glad to have her take the trial. It may give her heart," said Mrs. Castbolt.
"And you had to apply to — charity?" Mary asked, in a shocked tone.
"Oh, no sister. It was not charity" replied Mrs. Castbolt hastily. "The young lady called, and her father knew our — brother."
"Our brother, indeed. I don't see how you can speak of him so calmly. He and his millions."
"But they are his, and he worked hard for tHem— I "
"Jennie, if you are going to defend Reynolds there is no use continuing this conversation." said
98 JANE ALLEN:
Mary decisively. "I can never look at the matter as you do."
"Well, sister, since you feel so bitter I shall not mention the subject again. But your nephew, Renny, his namesake, and Mabel's brother, must be considered. What are we go- ing to do about him?"
"He is as headstrong as his uncle," replied Mary. "I don't see how anything we may say will ever influence him."
"So we won't spoil your visit with any more of my troubles," said Mrs. Castbolt, kindly. "I am sure it was too good of you to leave home so unexpectedly."
"I have been wanting to come, Jennie, but I am sorry to find you laid up. We can't run around like we used to," sighed the visiting sister. She was a tall, stately woman, gray to snowy whiteness, as was also Mrs. Castbolt. Their sur- roundings were as genteel as their personalities, and it was not strange that such women should resent the word "charity," as applied to themselves.
It was upon this scene that Jane intruded a few minutes later. She was coming for her private interview, and the troublesome Miss Carol Dare, she who tried to show Jane incompetent in tak-
SENIOR 99
ing the little ones into Wellington, she was sure to be out of the way this time. She was off to the city following what she had called an "important clue."
Jane was made comfortable by the ladies. Mrs. Castbolt had shown a decided preference for this sunny-haired girl, and with her, at least, youth was not an objection.
"You are so much better," Jane smiled. "Having your sister is just the thing to cheer you up."
"I have you to thank for that," said Mrs. Cast- bolt. "I should not have sent for her had not you insisted."
"And you were right, my dear," chimed in Mary, whose full name was Miss Webster. "I was glad to come but sorry, of course, to find sister so ill. But we will soon have her all right again. She has been having too much worry and no one to share it with," finished the visitor.
"I came today to see if I could not share it," said Jane. And just then she did feel pitifully young.
* .-*._ , •» * j ~»
CHAPTER IX
THE FIRST INTERVIEW
JANE explained why she had to ask so many questions. "I thought at first," she said, "it was go- ing to be difficult to be so inquisitive, but as one gets into the work, I find myself so interested, and I am so anxious to have my case turn out satisfactory I just follow the rules without any embarrassment."
"I wish I could tell you what a relief it is to share our confidence with someone who is able to advise," said Mrs. Castbolt, her tired eyes say- ing more than her words. "Before you came, Miss Allen, I just thought, and thought until my brain would take no more orders. It ran along a tangent. Even my sick spell did not seem so overpowering when I knew you were taking care of the children," she sighed.
Jane laughed a little. It was necessary to toss
IOO
JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 101
in as much merriment as could be reasonably in- serted, otherwise the interview would become drab and gloomy with sordid details.
"I had such a time with the tots," she confessed. "The girls at college simply went crazy over them, of course; and they were as good as gold."
"Really, were they?" asked the grandmother. "Jill told me Joy wanted everything within reach. The poor tots have been knocked about quite a little since their good father passed away." Mrs. Castbolt sighed heavily and her sister, Miss Webster, echoed the sentiment.
"Harry was such a wonderful, fine man, but he had that temperament ; all boy. He could not see far enough ahead to plan for this awful con- tingency. Sister, here, always felt that Mabel would do something with her own talent. You see we are both seminary girls," there was pard- onable pride in her voice, "and when Mabel graduated from college we felt she would study further. But these young folks!" another sigh. "She was married the very year she graduated!"
Jane sighed herself. Married the year she graduated! The clause repeated itself. Just imagine !
"And you were seminary graduates?'3 asked Jane, referring to the mother and sister. 'Then,
102 JANE ALLEN:
of course, your daughter, Mrs. Castbolt, had many influential friends to call upon?"
"Yes, she has. Eut Mabel is very — proud. She will not make her plight known. Her brother, Renny, will soon be finished at his college, you know, the two are as chummy as they were when children." This was all mother.
"We could relieve the whole situation," inter- rupted Miss Webster, "if we could only get our own brother to alter a very stubborn mind. Although he is our only brother, I must say it. He does not treat us as he should. All our parent's means were spent in educating the family. Then our brother, with that education as a background, acquired wealth. He has done much for us, helped sister, who was left a widow, when very young, to educate Mabel and Renny, but he has such unalterable opinions "
'The fact is he did not like my husband," said Mrs. Castbolt bravely. "Now, I don't feel I can go to him when Mabel has been left just as I was."
"And Renny, his name is Reynolds, called after this very uncle," explained Miss Webster, "he is so high spirited — well, I simply cannot ex- plain the situation," she ended disconsolately.
"I think you are very wise not to interfere
SENIOR 103
with your son's getting his degree," said Jane. "If he is armed with that from such a college, he will have no difficulty in obtaining a splendid position. I have heard father say they just wait for the boys to finish there, then take them right into important mining positions."
"You're father is a miner?" asked Mrs. Cast- bolt, eagerly.
"He is retired, but was a miner. He still lives out on the big mountain. I believe he knows your brother," added Jane.
"Not Henry Allen?" exclaimed Miss Web- ster. 'Why, what a small world this is? I remember when Henry Allen came to visit our brother. Don't you remember, Jennie?"
"Since I knew a Miss Allen was our good little angel," she paused to allow a smile its chance, "I have been wondering. It is really brother's friend!"
"Yes, I have had a letter from dad. He was not too keen on my going into this work, but agreed just as soon as he heard it was to touch upon the needs of a friend," Jane paused and tossed her head up. "Don't you think we are all selfish after all? Don't you think, ladies, we are prone to stand by our friends?" she inquired, kindly.
104 J^NE ALLEN:
"That is exactly why your organization is so much needed," replied Mrs. Castbolt. "With you everyone in need is your friend."
"I do hope you will feel just that way about us," said Jane warmly. "Then I will not have any trouble in asking all these seemingly confi- dential questions."
"But I cannot get over your father being Henry Allen," said Miss Webster. She was agasp with surprise.
"And he is about the same boy, I fancy, he must always have been," said the affectionate daughter. 'You see, I have to make a note of the family connections. It helps so in prescrib- ing. Don't you think our work is a wonderful new profession! We do about what a doctor does, it seems to me."
'Yes, you get the symptoms and prescribe the remedy," agreed Mrs. Castbolt. "But do tell me about Jill and Joy? When shall I go out to see them."
'Whenever you are able," replied Jane. "I hope I shall be able to go out tomorrow after- noon. They are the dearest children for adjust- ing themselves to their environment," declared Jane.
'That's because they have had so many homes
SENIOR 10 5
lately/' said Mrs. Castbolt, with her tired sigh.
Jane prodded herself mentally and started out boldly to cover her assigned task. She must ask a lot of questions and in their answers find the key that would, she hoped, solve the problem of the Mrs. Castbolt's and her daughter's, Mrs. Jennings', unusual difficulties. When the case was first handed over, it resembled so many others that no special plans were made to handle it, but soon it was discovered that two mothers, Mrs. Castbolt and Mrs. Jennings, were affected, that two tiny children had their home threatened, and the acknowledged aim of Social Service is to build up the original home. Besides this, there was a young man at college who should be kept there at least a short time longer. How to do this without actually tapping a charity fund — the very last resource of the system that knows the real value of self-respect for the individual — all this now confronted Jane, as she bravely un- dertook her important work.
Back of the apparent troubles was still another. !A note was due and overdue and unless prompt steps were taken at once the pleasant little home would belong to strangers.
After a few moments' conversation, Jane un- earthed a clue. In the Social Service code a
io6 JANE ALLEN: ^^
"clue" has its place on the list of important outlines.
"And this young woman, Carol Dare," said Jane gently. "What is her connection with Mrs. Jennings' business?"
Mrs. Castbolt drew her lips into a firm, hard line. "She knew Mabel, my daughter, and also my son," she said in a low voice. "Somehow she also got acquainted in my brother's office, I don't know just how, perhaps she worked there, but since she has been running here and perhaps run- ning there, there is no telling what mischief she has stirred up."
"She may have influenced our brother against us," said the younger woman. Reynolds Web- ster is stubborn but he was always just," she continued, "and he would never see Jenny in this predicament, actually losing her home, without coming to her aid."
Jane thoughtfully made a few more notes. She knew how adroit a young woman could be in the matter of stirring up trouble, and it was evident Mrs. Castbolt was not telling all she knew about Carol Dare.
"You see," said Miss Webster. "I have enough for my own needs. I am willing to share that "
SENIOR 107
"Sister!" checked Mrs. Castbolt. 'You have done too much already. It is no easy matter to support four helpless people. My idea in seek- ing aid was merely to obtain it as a loan — until Renny could graduate from college," she said
again.
'Unfortunately there is no fund for such a loan," said Jane. In her brief experience she had found more than one appeal for loans, just for a short time. But such arrangements are not standardized.
'Then you can't really do anything?" Mrs. Castbolt asked timidly.
"Oh, indeed we can," said Jane cheerfully. "But the usual procedure must be gone through with. You see, it is all so new to me I am not efficient as the others might be, and it takes me longer."
"We will like you all the better for it," de- clared Miss Webster. "We would hate to have anyone come in here and just ride over us," she declared with asperity.
'When can I see Mrs. Jennings?" Jane asked next.
"She promised to come back yesterday," said her mother. "I am worried about her. She is so temperamental and so proud."
io8 JANE ALLEN:
"But she wouldn't nelect the children!" said
Miss Webster indignantly.
"Not consciously," replied the mother. "But this Dare young woman has such a way about her. Mabel does not really like her but she held out such promises." Mrs. Castbolt was plainly in mental distress.
"Did Mrs. Jennings go to the city with her?" Jane asked.
"She was to meet her there," said Mrs. Castbolt.
"Has she sent you any word?"
"A message the first night she was away. It was the next day that I was taken ill. Others
may have come " The mother paused,
agitated.
"Could a mother abandon her darling little ones?" Jane wras thinking, and as if Mrs. Cast- bolt divined her thoughts she spoke again:
"Of course Mabel will return the first oppor- tunity. You see, Miss Dare made the plans."
"Just where is Mrs. Jennings now?" asked Jane bluntly.
"She went to a school — a school of acting, they called it."
"A school of acting?" There was surprise in Jane's voice.
SENIOR 109
"Yes." Mrs. Castbolt compressed her lips nervously. "Miss Dare made an agreement," she continued, "we were to furnish the money and she was to get my daughter a position with a good salary."
"And it cost two hundred dollars " inter- rupted Miss Webster. It was very plain Miss Webster did not agree with the doings of Miss Dare.
"yes," said Mrs. Castbolt, shaking her head and brushing something from her eyes. "It was — our last "
Jane now saw what she had been searching for. It was the fact that Carol Dare had taken the money from these people and made rash prom- ises to young Mrs. Jennings. She may have been honest enough in her intentions, but that money would have forestalled the immediate danger of foreclosure.
"Could anything have happened to Mabel?" asked Mrs. Castbolt. She addressed both Jane and Miss Webster.
"Now sis, don't you go getting all worked up," cautioned Miss Webster. "I am afraid you have been doing too much for a sick woman."
'Yes," said Jane, rising, "and I hope I have not been too — troublesome. But the only way
no JANE ALLEN:
we can help is to be armed with all the facts. Might I ask one more question?"
"Certainly, my dear," said Mrs. Castbolt. "I do not feel badly at all. It is the thought of our little store being gone and that my daughter may be miserable in the city, worrying "
"Mabel is no fool," said Miss Webster. "She will discover soon enough, whether this is a real position or some fraud. Of course, I should never have agreed to her taking up the stage "
"But the children both have dramatic talent," interrupted Mrs. Castbolt.
"Has your son?" asked Jane. Somehow she felt this was a leading question.
"Oh, yes indeed," spoke the proud mother. "Renny is head of his college dramatic club and has done some very fine acting."
"And lost you your brother's opinion by doing so," said Miss Webster, primly.
Again Jane wondered. She lifted her gray eyes first to one and then to the other woman. What a strange mixture! Dramatic talent, gentility, education and now perhaps — poverty! Her sympathy was confusing her judgment.
"Renny has had more than one offer for the professional stage," said his mother suddenly.
SENIOR 1 1 1
"And only last week he sent us fifty dollars he had earned substituting for some actor."
"And is Miss Dare an actress?" asked Jane.
"Oh yes," again. "She met Renny when he played with his college club and she was very anxious to have him keep to the stage. She promised him all sorts of inducements." The mother's enthusiasm was easily understood.
So Miss Dare had designs upon Kenny's dramatic talent! Could that be the real motive for her interference?
A few more questions completed the report for Jane's first formal interview, and when the data had been obtained she took leave, for the time, of her client and the helpful Miss Mary Webster.
CHAPTER X
THE INTERESTING DISCOVERY
A THRILL of interest akin to excite- ment, swept over Jane as she went back to Wellington. Judith met her; she herself was returning from her field work.
4 What's new?" sang out Judith.
"A lot of things," replied Jane. Her voice vibrated with energy and when that quality was manifest at the end of the day it indicated one thing: Something startling!
Judith sidled up to Jane. "Well, unburden your conscience," she ordered. "I know you have solved the mystery."
"Not quite," replied Jane, "but I have a clue. And Judy!" she paused to swallow a chuckle. "It's your handsome young man!"
"Oh, that's nothing new," scoffed Judith. "I told you that from the first. They are always at the bottom of problems. What's his name?"
"Renny," replied Jane.
112
JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 113
"Renny," repeated Judith. 'That sounds foreign."
"It isn't though. It's plain American Reyn- olds, Renny for short. Like it?"
Judith sniffed. She was not going to appear too interested. Jane took the cue and walked along indifferently. Girls were flocking into the campus, greeting each other with shouts and hails. There was danger of someone tagging along, so Jane hooked her arm into Judith's.
"I don't want to answer a lot of silly ques- tions," she remarked. "Let's run along."
"Not afraid of mine?" returned Judith. "I haven't quite finished on this Renny boy, but I am not in any particular hurry, Jane," she parried.
"How did you make out?" queried Jane, politely.
"Bagged two more youngsters. Such nice, in- teresting little chaps, too. I might have pro- posed going into retirement and waiting for one of them to grow up. He has the most attractive little limp, and rolls his eyes like a movie com- edian. He really almost won me over to his side," admitted Judith. "He wants to go to work in the licorice works. Says his grand- mother has a cough."
JANE ALLEN:
"Small boys always have grandmothers," said Jane. "I remember one little chap who was for- ever staying home for his grandmother's funeral. But how do you like it, Judy?"
"A lot better than fudge parties. And I am glad that girls do not, as a rule, play hookey. I should hate to have to cope with girls. They are so — adroit." The last word was rolled with marked elocutionary effect.
"I find it even more strenuous that I had ex- pected," admitted Jane. "And Judy, after din- ner, will you confer with me? I just have to be advised - "
4 Your young man?"
".Yes, I don't feel quite capable of handling a case with a young actress and your actor-man involved," said Jane, girlish pride asserting itself.
"Jane! Never! You haven't struck anything so wonderful!" exclaimed Judith. "I won't care for any dinner. I shall come right into your little den, my head and heart given freely — digestion and the rest of it flung to the winds - "
"But the meeting?" interrupted Jane. "We have got to attend that."
"Oh, so we did — promise," moaned Judith. 'Well, Nett deserves to be helped. She has been
SENIOR 115
working day and night, and the whole class con- sider us — slackers."
"I told Nettie I would come in when the pre- liminaries were all fixed up. We have been on the committees every year, and I feel it is time now the others had a try," said Jane. " Still, we must show an active interest at this stage."
"But joking aside, Jane, you have to go on with this case and perhaps you would feel better to talk it over even with silly me. Miss Morgan said we could discuss our cases together, but I don't mind telling you right now, I have one that's a secret. If I ever told you about it you would be sure to veto my plans. Just wait till you hear!" promised Judith. "No case was ever so thrilling."
"Judy dear, I hope you are not carrying your jokes into the ranks of Social Service "
"Jokes! Jane Allen! How dare you? This is no joke. You will die of envy that you did not conceive the idea yourself. There! I am not going to give you the least hint. But just wait! Wait until you see the scheme carried out. Then, oh Wellington, sit up and note my triumph!"
Jane knew Judith was in earnest. She vaguely wondered what the big exciting scheme might mean, but her own case was too absorbing to ;
n6 JANE ALLEN:
allow of definite distraction even at the other prospect.
The girls parted in the corridors, Judith slip- ping off to hold secret conclave with some "ac- complice," and Jane reporting at the office for having omitted a lecture that afternoon.
Once within the hall the two students of Social Service were besieged with the excited commit- tees all working for the success of the mid-year prom. There was Nettie, she insisted Jane and Judith take their regular places on the distribu- tion committees, to make sure the invitations went where they should and did not go where they should not.
Even dinner hour was given over to snatched conferences, for the Wellington prom was not, by any means, a small affair, it never had been and would not be this time at the hands of Nettie and her followers.
So it was not possible for Jane and Judith to slip off and make up their notes on Social Service as they had wished to do. In fact, it was two whole days later before they could so much as take even recreation time to themselves. It was one round of meetings, conferences, directing cards, filling out lists, and even attending to printing — Judith had always been on the print-
SENIOR 117
ing committee and she could not beg off now.
These details, however, differ so slightly from all of their kind as to be interesting only to those immediately concerned. It was the case of "Blighted Prosperity' as Judith facetiously termed Jane's case, that held particulars of vital general interest. Of this we must hear the details.
"You don't mean to tell me you are afraid, actually afraid to tackle that angle of it, Jane?" asked Judith, her face as surprised as her voice — ostensibly.
"I didn't say afraid, Judy. I said it did seem a little bit too complicated for a mere beginner. I know I have been given this case on account of father. The rich, old uncle figures very definitely throughout, and he has always been a friend of dad's. Besides this, I have dad to consider from my own, personal interest. He would not want me to go into this course if he did not know ex- actly what I was working upon, and I would not ithink it fair to deceive him."
I see: a double incentive," mused Judith. Now, my folks are simply glad to know that I happen to be kept busy, think it is sort of a char- ity to me to give me something useful to do. They have not an idea what the ultimate out-
"
"
n8 JANE ALLEN:
come will — do to — them." Judith pulled her face into an original expression. It was not hers by nature.
"But Judy," Jane shifted into a position that made preparation for an extended controversy, "I find that Carol Dare is twined in and out of this Jennings-Castbolt affair like — a poison ivy vine. Every time I drag out a root of the trouble in one place, it catches on somewhere else."
"Of course she's in love with Renny," said Judith cooly. "That's the main issue,, you'll find," she declared finally.
"I don't think it is," said Jane seriously.
"Why?"
"Some other young man pays all her transient expenses, like cab hire and all that. Not that she wouldn't let a man do that much without hav- ing serious designs upon him," said Jane quickly, "but she really seems quite devoted to him."
"Then you have seen the 'loidy'?" Judith sat up straight and threw a wild look at the defense- less Jane.
"Yes, for a few moments. She and Mr. Scott drove up grandly to the Castbolt home just as I was leaving. I could not turn back though I knew well the pair might try to undo most of what I had been trying to do in the two hours
SENIOR 119
previous. Oh, I tell you, Judy, this business of interfering in other folks' affairs is trying," sighed Jane.
"Faint heart never yet won an important case," said Judith, "and I can never imagine a heart like yours being faint," she finished.
"You don't know it," replied Jane. "But then "
"What's the real worry? I see you have not enough confidence in me to blurt it out," Judith challenged.
"Can't see that you are 'blurting out' your case either," retorted her companion. A good natured chuckle evened up the debate.
"But I shall, as soon as it's all ready; all set, as Doze says. And it is almost ready, Janie. You will certainly be surprised," she promised again.
"Did you know, Judith, that our handsome young man is an actor of no mean ability?" came the sensational question.
"Oh-o-o-h!" gasped Judith falling in a heap. "An actor! Jane Allen! You get all the luck!" she crumpled down further into the comfortable cushions.
"But in this case it is not lucky," continued Jane. "You see, he is reported as being so fine,
120 JANE ALLEN:
so manly and all that. But the ability to act usually brings — temptation." The wisdom was assumed.
"It should," said the incorrigible Judith. "If I made a hit in our play last year I would not be here now, figuring out old, gloomy, Social Service cases. I'd be counting the lights in some glittering "
"And Mrs. Jennings is, I am afraid, chasing that rainbow made of stage promises," continued Jane, ignoring the phantasy, 'The family funds were actually depleted to a standstill in order to satisfy a demand made by Carol Dare. I found that much out after difficult probing. Now, any girl, even a f reshie, would know better than to put money and confidence into that sort of thing," complained Jane with obvious scorn.
"But Jane, darlink, I have always found that lack of brains goes with real talent. Business ability and talent seem at odds, usually. You see, this Mrs. Jennings wants to act, therefore she cannot see the significance of conserving the family dollar."
'You are right, in spite of the levity, Judy. Folks who want to go on the stage seem to over- look every other consideration. But what bothers me is, how a mere senior at Wellington is going
SENIOR 121
to adjust matters. Dozia would call it 'bustin' in.' Pardon the digression."
"Certainly, but don't lose the trail," Judith replied.
"As I was saying I cannot see how 'merely me' is going to intrude with a lot of rules, and stand- ards, and break up such a powerful combination as that made by this Miss Dare. She has Mrs. Jennings so hypnotized she actually induced her to leave those children with their grandmother; you want to remember that, Jude."
"No, I want to forget that. Didn't I sleep on the floor a whole, mortal night?"
"You did, dear, and you will be blessed for it, if there is any reward for virtue going around. But what would you advise me to do? You see, I have these facts," she called off. "Mrs. Jen- nings is apparently under the influence of Carol Dare. The latter is promoting some moving pic- ture or theatrical enterprise ; the children of Mrs. Jennings and her mother also must be cared for, Mrs. Jennings claims she is trying to earn an honest living, that she has talent for stage or pictures and that she should be allowed to try out her talent."
"Oh, do breathe Jane. When you get going you— go."
122 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR
"I feel like a cabinet of stale news," said Jane, "and it is a relief to release some of it. The really queer part of the whole thing is that the son, Renny, sent home money from his own the- atrical performance, and since the uncle has found out he is inclined to take stage parts he is simply furious, and has deserted the entire group."
"The old bear! Why shouldn't a boy earn money with his college team that way, when he needs it?" asked Judith, indignantly.
"And Mrs. Castbolt says the Dare lady brings messages back and forth from the banker's office. Now, how does she get in there?"
"Perhaps she substitutes for an office girl. I tell you honestly, Jane Allen, you will find the real motive moving the Dare creature is what is commonly called Love. Of course it is not really, but it goes by that name in polite society. The other name for it is Vanity."
Jane knit her browrs. Judith was imparting knowledge in her own jolly way. Jane was ob- taining advice in her own simple trusting man- ner. So they planned and planned, with no thought of the possible consequences, but with the optimism of youth; while the threat of actualities hung over them like a sword with the silken thread.
CHAPTER XI
THE ADOPTION OF GRANDPA TODD
NOT all the experiences, nor all "the luck," was to go to Jane. Judith was working against any such contingency. Not even the prom with its numerous and endless duties, prevented her from making a public demonstra- tion of her intentions two days after her confer- ence with Jane.
That Jane had to talk things over was easily understood, for the Jennings case was assuming new angles of complications almost daily. Not the least of these was that bringing Carol Dare and her questionable interest to the fore; but Judith's work thus far had been confined to de- linquents, in the persons of children who stayed away from school without sufficient cause. The country in late fall and early winter holds a strong lure for energetic youngsters, and Judith
123
124- JANE ALLEN:
Stearns was called upon to use her own best energies to combat the beguiling influence.
But she did not intend to work solely among this juvenile element. She proved it.
The committees were all assembled in the gym when Judith broke in. Her eyes were dancing and her cheeks blazing. There might have been guilt in the evidence but there was also joy — joy defiant.
"Come on, Grandpa Todd. Don't mind the girls. They won't bite."
The end of the sentence pointed to an old man. As in the professional advertisements the real object was pointed to by Judith.
"I'm comin' miss, an' I'm not a bit afraid — of girls," spoke the man who trailed after Judith.
The committees ceased "functioning." They sat up straight and stared. Ted Guthrie opened her mouth and Winifred Ayres blinked simul- taneously. They always did in excitement.
"Girls!" hailed Judith triumphantly, "I've brought you a friend to adopt."
A "variegated" silence followed. The red was Nettie's for she objected to the interruption, and the yellow was Blanche Early's, she disliked Judith to the point of "couldn't bear her."
"Yes, friends," Judith's voice soared to the
SENIOR 125
heights of enthusiasm, "this is Grandpa Todd, and he needs work, and he is going to get it here." Her foot gave the period.
"All I want is a chance to earn m' living," Grandpa managed to say. He pulled his necktie all but off in the effort.
"But the men apply for work " Blanche
Early tried to say, but Judith was ready with an objection.
"We all know that the ordinary sort of work is obtained through the office, but this is different. I want you to adopt Grandpa," said Judith.
Jane understood. She jumped up and said so. 'We could help Judith's friend by supporting his claim to work here," she pointed out. "The col- lege can usually make room for one more helper, but we have nothing to say about who such a helper shall be. Now, if we all unite and ask that "
"Silas Todd," assisted the stranger. "Silas
Todd age seventy-five," he announced pom- pously.
'That Mr. Todd be given work here," con- tinued Jane with a smile that repaid Grandpa Todd for his help, "I am sure he will prove satis- factory." Jane felt like a platform orator, for her words were very trite, but she had none
126 JANE ALLEN:
better at her command in the new field of per- sonnel provider for Wellington.
"Yes, that's it," agreed Judith radiantly. "All we have to do is to ask that Grandpa be given work. He is sure to prove satisfactory, for he held one place
"The one job for thirty years, and only quit then because the road was pulled up. My gate house was pulled down and sent to the scrap heap, but for the few bits I managed to save," he half sighed, "Just the old lanterns and the chair — it tilted up as I liked it to. And then there was a couple of pictures. You know," he paused a trifle embarrassed that no one had charitably in- terrupted, for he had no idea of talking at such a length.
Judith understood him and came to the rescue.
"He was gate keeper or tender at the private factory crossing and they tore up the crossing," she said emphatically.
. "They did that. Now, if I had-of worked for the reg'lar road they'd of pensioned me. But the factory was one of them that had to quit lately. They're sidin' wasn't doin' anythin', and of course they had to sell out to the reg'lar road. When they build up they're goin' to make a curve out to the junction," (Grandpa Todd believed in
SENIOR 127
details as most old persons do), "then, maybe, they'll take me on again," he said hopefully.
"He is not the sort of person who whines," Judith declared. "I only found out how needy he was by accident '
"Oh, I got a bite to eat and I didn't mind sleepin' in the shanty I made from the railroad stuff," interrupted the man. "But with the winter coming, and not much chance to work, it was a fine thing this young lady was kind enough to — take an interest in me." He bowed and let his head drop effectively.
"He has a special claim on us," said Judith proudly. "His father helped build Wellington."
"He did that." Todd forgot himself in his excrement, clapped his soft grand army hat on his head and yanked it off again. "Many's the time," he took a fresh start, "I heard him tell about the pranks they played as the buildin'
went up. If you find ghosts in the walls "
he chuckled, "don't blame the ghosts. They were planted there by Bill Todd and the other fellows that made fun of the women's colleges in them days."
"Did your father make fun of us?" demanded Nettie. She smiled encouragingly for the con- fession.
128 JANE ALLEN:
"I'm afraid he did, miss. But then I wasn't there to fight for you." This last rang out in a voice that brought forth cheers.
"Hun-ay! Hurrah! Hurroo!" came from Ted Outline's cheering squad. This was the first chance her corner had to come in on the sport, and they made the most of it.
"Yes, sir; I've always stuck up for you," said the applicant for collegiate honors. "Don't you mind when old Mat Fagan made a fuss about his cows goin' loose? The night you was playin' pranks with the fresh girls?"
"Oh, indeed we do," spoke up Dozia Dalton. She had been suffering with a "throat" and for a week previous had taken scarcely any part in the regular activities. Her usually vibrant voice cracked under the strain of this present attempt.
"Well, Mat is cranky," said Mr. Todd, "and I had some trouble in making him understand that it was all just college sport "
"Good for you!" came again from the cheering squad. A couple of "hips" were nipped in the bud by Judith.
"Then it's agreed we'll adopt him?" she asked 'decisively.
"Adopt him?" scoffed Blanche Early. cYes, we need a man around the house," said
SENIOR 129
Jane facetiously. "And if we have a personal interest in Mr. Todd we will be able to do what is termed 'constructive work* "
"I could that," said the man, his good natured* fat old face wrinkling up into twinkles, and sparkles that echoed from earlier beauty. Grandpa Todd was one of those human beings who mellow with age, and he must have been a good looking young man once. "I could do many's the thing in construction around here," he continued, while Jane and Judith waved away their original meaning of the term. "I could build your sidewalks and trim the hedges "
"In fact he is a very handy man to have around," interrupted Judith. "Now, our next move is to get the Big Boss to think so. We call him the Big Boss, Grandpa, because he never seems to do anything else but boss. He won't let us so much as cut a whistle or a whip from a tree that needs trimming," she declared.
"Now, at whistles," began the embarrassed old man, "I can beat anyone makin' them." He extracted a sample from a providential pocket. "Here's one I made the other day. I sell them for a nickle," he smiled broadly. "But the youngsters quickly learn how to make them from my "
130 JANE ALLEN:
"I'll buy your sample," offered Jane, "and perhaps we may be able to give it a Wellington patent."
Judith was rubbing one Heel against tihe other. That indicated impatience. Nettie Brocton was actually grumbling. The others were delighted with "the show."
The man was growing more confident, and if things were not soon adjusted to the regular afternoon's proceedings, he threatened to keep his vaudevillian number going indefinitely. He did look too funny. That may have been one reason why Judith became interested in him. His clothes were a combination of overall and "Cits" (citizen) defying description and repro- duction. His face wore crinkles that cracked into a grin, and his eyes shot funny blinks from under a perfect hedge of bushy brows.
Every community worthy the name has a Grandpa Todd. He usually carries the flag in the G. A. R. parade, and he publicly defends the town's traditions. He is also the best story teller in the parts, for his personality is keenly fond of fiction, if not outright fictitious.
So Judith knew how to dioose a protege. Grandpa Todd promised to fulfill all require- ments.
SENIOR 1 3 1
"It's agreed then," she said again. "And I'll
take him up to the office.'
"Up to the office?" repeated Jane incredu- ously.
"Certainly," replied Judith. "I don't smuggle my friends in as you do, Jane." This went over the head of most of the assemblage, but Dozia knew' Judith referred to the bringing to Welling- ton of the babies, Joy-we and Jill.
"But you had best see the 'Big Boss' as you call him, Judy," said Jane, "and he is usually in the garage."
"Nothing of the sort," loftily. "I intend Mr. Todd shall be formally adopted, and I shall see that no detail is omitted." All this might have been a classic recitation so far as Mr. Todd was concerned. Judith's voice was rolled up in the mouthings of mystery.
"He has our vote," called out Ted Guthrie. She and her colleagues could see impending fun in the prospect.
"Thank you kindly, miss," replied the one, lone man.
"I need votes now, although I only want a chance to work. I kin work with men years younger on the calendar, but sometimes they're years older on the jobbin' docket," he chuckled.
132 JANE ALLEN:
"A fellow is as old as he feels," he added tritely, and had a good laugh at his own joke.
Just what happened when Judith took her pro- tege up to the office is not clear, but she came out with colors flying. Grandpa Todd was elected a member of the staff of old Wellington, with board and lodgings.
"What particular claim had he on your affec- tions, Judy?" Jane asked when they met in their room after dinner.
"Oh, Jane; he's a dear," said the enthused Judith. "He is a baseball fan and as a story teller he cannot be beat. You should hear him recount the ball games of the past fifty years."
"But would that really influence you in his be- half?" Jane was incredulous.
"It might. We need someone to help us out. Haven't you, and I, and Doze, and a few others gone dry telling witty jokes to the undeserving and unappreciative studes? I thought you would welcome a little help on that score."
"Oh, I do," Jane was silent for a few moments. It was too easy to guess that such a foolish reason could not actually have influenced Judith.
'Was that really all, Jude?" she coaxed, pres- ently.
"No, it was not, Jane. He is Carol Dare's
SENIOR 133
uncle, and I thought it might be handy to have him around," drawled Judith, her bright eyes failing to hide their intensity of interest.
"Carol Dare's uncle! How ever did you find that out?"
"In my interview. You mustn't think you are the only student with a bona fide case on hand," replied Judith. She curled up in the chair and tapped an idle pencil on the table. It sounded businesslike but was really a habit.
Jane laughed and tossed over a salted almond, losing the salt as it flew. 'You're a fraud, as usual, Jude," she said. "Of course you would surpass me even at my own chosen profession, but you have got to admit that it was I who spied Social Service first."
"Oh, I am willing to concede that, girlie, but I spied Grandpa Todd first. You cannot deny that. And just watch him grow — in popularity." Judith was fairly hugging the prospect.
'Too bad we can't use him as a baseball coach," joked Jane.
"A detective would be more in our line^ wouldn't it?"
"Yes, perhaps. But what can he detect?'3
"The reason for Carol Dare's interest in the Jennings family, for one thing. You seean
-***
I34 JANE ALLEN:
Judith was serious now, "when I was directed to find who was living in a forlorn shack (we thought boys were hiding there), I came upon Mr. Todd. In asking his pedigree I found the name Dare. It touched a spot of memory, of course," Judith explained, "and I went further. Mr. Todd had come into the office as requested, and I was inter- viewing him there. Well Jane, when he started in to talk about his niece who, as he expressed it, was galavanting around doin' stage stunts and takin' foolish names, her own name bein' none other than plain Julia Smith, well," Judith sighed, "as I said in the beginning, or intended to say, Silas Todd was rip, roaring mad, and I was deeply interested. I then and there decided to take up the case, and although Miss Morgan would have handed it over to a more experienced worker, I induced her to let me try it."
The long speech exhausted Judith. She sighed and puffed in the exhaust. Jane wound a willing arm around her.
"Judy darlink, you're a perfect love," she de- clared. "Now, we will get at the bottom of the sudden slump in the Jennings' finances, for we will go at it in team work. To us this will be the Judy-Jane case, and old Grandpa Todd will be the referee "
SENIOR 135
"He is mad enough at Julia Smith to be exe- cutioner," declared Judith. "But lots of folks work best under that sort of pressure; I believe I need it myself," she conceded, and the two chums proceeded to draw mental pictures of the two newest characters in their plot.
CHAPTER XII
DANNY MC GORRY'S HOME RUN
AMONG the duties assigned to Grandpa on the grounds of Wellington was that of earing for the new gym. It was in- evitable that when he took his brushes there, at any time other than during lecture hours, girls should surround him; also it was inevitable that they should directly discover, without difficulty, his propensity for story telling, just as Judith had predicted.
A class that should have been shooting basket balls, hung over the benches on the afternoon in question.
"I told you so," said Judith. "He tells yarns like a sailor, only his sea is the ball field. I like to listen myself."
"Let's crowd in," said Dozia. "The girls are all chanting that 'Danny McGory's Home Run' as if it were some old time melody. I'd love to hear what it's all about."
136
JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 137
"Come along," agreed Judith, including Jane in the invitation.
In a corner of the gym Grandpa leaned upon his broom. The girls leaned upon the horses and the benches and even upon each other. He was telling the famous yarn.
"Don't let us interrupt you," begged Judith, seeing there was danger of that. 'We will just slip in here "
'Will you?" questioned Barbara Joyce, who refused to move an inch. Had she done so the bench would have sprung up like a teeter-tauter. But Jane and Judith followed the point of Dozia's finger and found a place in the far corner. Then all were happy again and Grandpa actually took a few strokes with the indolent broom.
"But you were just saying what the man said," prompted Lottie Landers.
The broom was halted, Grandpa pushed his cap back and blinked twice.
"I was," admitted Grandpa. "Well," he con- tinued, "there was a fellow on first, one on third, and one in the field when Danny went to the bat." This he retold for the benefit of late comers. 'Then this man who talked big enough to be Babe Ruth himself, he began blowin' about some one who struck a ball over a tall fence.'
138 JANE ALLEN:
At this point two girls in Nettie's corner had a discussion that broke into the story. Their remarks punctured the tale, and presently Grandpa was twisting his tongue without words.
"Isn't a man on first nearest home?" asked one of the contestants.
"He is, from the -wrong end," replied Grandpa. "But the fellow on third has him beaten by two," he explained. He did not laugh outright at the query, but his smile was, to say the least, compre- hensive.
"Now you girls listen and stop disturbing the lecturer," called out Dozia from her perch. Her long, woolen stockings hung over the side of the step ladder and the rest of her went the entire height of it.
'Well, as I was sayin'," took up the narrator, "this dude was bio win' his head off about what a friend of his could do with a bat, and I was try- in' to find out what Danny McGorry was goin' to do with his. The game was tied. We were that excited the soda water was standin' out in the sun ready to pop off unclaimed."
"Out in the sun?" Girls will perpetually in- terrupt.
'Yes. You see we used to go in wagons to ball games in them days," went on the center of
SENIOR 139
attention, "and in the wagons we would carry a box of soda water and ginger ale. I know you're thinkin* we may have had somethin' stronger," he digressed, "but we didn't. The Woodsockers was every one of them sober boys."
"And handsome," whispered Judith. She poked Jane until the latter shifted out of reach of her active elbow.
"But I had best be at m' job," said Grandpa. The Big Boss will be after me." Again the broom was brought into action.
"But what happened after that?" demanded little Dorothy Scott. "The man went to the bat, you know," she pointed out.
"He did that," agreed the baseball fan. "He went to the bat," the broom was grasped and swung out with a steady hand and something of a curve, "we all stood waitin' ; you have got to re- member there was a man on first, two out, one on third "
"And a rattling good fielder waitin' to grab 'em," chirped Judith.
"Exactly. Waitin' to grab em," agreed the story teller, "when Danny McGorry swung that bat. Whist! Wizz! Bang!"
"Bingo!" shouted the cheering squad.
"And that ball flew!" The broom was held
I4Q JANE ALLEN:
afolt, suspended in midair, and the girls' eyes were following the ball. "It flew up and out of sight!"
"Oh!!!" breathed a chorus.
"Yes sir, it went right over the barn!" came the thrilling news, "right up over a barn, big enough to stop a cyclone. Think of it! A ball batted over that barn "
The girls broke into a cheer and Grandpa became so excited he batted the broom perilously near a window. It was his pet story and it made a "whopper" of a tale for the girls, because they wanted to cheer him up. He should not get lonely at Wellington if they knew it.
So intense was the assumed excitement that the men on base might have been all home and out on the benches before Jane interrupted.
"And they made home runs of course?" she asked.
"Did they? Well, now I'll say they did," said Grandpa, quite up to date with his phrases. 'When Danny's bat touched that ball it went flyin'." What is truer than a baseball fan?
"Right over the barn," sang out Ted Guthrie, thereby starting another racket from the choristers.
"But I want to hear what happened to tHe
SENIOR 141
men on bases," insisted Jane. "Did they all get in safely, or was there a boy back of the barn?"
"They never found that ball," said Grandpa grandly. "And Danny McGorry was the best boy in that town for a long time after that," said the old man. "It made me feel good, be- cause I taught that lad how to swing a bat "
"Really? Did he get into the big league, Grandpa?" asked Lottie.
"He should have had. But he had a mother. The nicest little woman in the town and she was afraid he would get hurted "
"Just like a woman," blamed Dozia. "See, what scientific baseball lost on account of a
woman's nerves.'
"But you know the fellow who was brag-
gin' "
"Oh, yes, wrhat happened to him?" asked Judith, kicking two girls one with each foot.
"He took one look at the ball when it was on the wing — he stood right beside me you know — and when he saw it goin' up, and up, he grabs me own hat in the excitement and off he runs. I never seed him since "
"Nor your hat?'" asked cruel Judith.
"Oh, I didn't mind the hat. It was a straw one I had painted over, and if a shower came —
142 JANE ALLEN:
which it did every ball game day — well, he was welcome to his prize," concluded the owner of the painted straw hat.
'The mark of Cain," said Dozia irreverently. "That was a great story, Grandpa," compli- mented Nettie, in a wave of appreciation.
'Wasn't it? And the way that ball flew over the barn —
' vv asn i n
»
"Right up clean out of sight "
it
the fellow who grabbed the wrong hat "
"And Danny's mother who wouldn't let him join the big league," wailed Judith, following the gasps of her companions.
'There's the boss," whispered Jane.
"Quick, Grandpa; hide!" commanded Dozia, pushing the excited new helper behind a pile of gym apparatus.
'Where's Todd?" inquired the man called Boss. He had stalked in almost before Todd could follow Dozia's advice.
"Not here?'3 the man answered himself, while a few heads shook in agreement. "I wanted him to go to the village. If any of you young women see him would you mind telling him I want to speak to him."
'We wouldn't mind telling him you would like
SENIOR 143
to speak to him," Judith corrected pointedly, but the verbiage went right over the Boss's head.
"He has not forgiven you for bringing the new man in, Judith," remarked Nettie, when the Boss closed the door upon himself. "I suppose he is also boss of a labor squad, with his rather insolent orders."
"Most likely," replied Jane. "But he's gone. Tell Grandpa."
"And you are to report at his office please," said Nettie, who did the telling. "And if you are going to the village, Grandpa, will you fetch me back a bag of red apples?"
Other orders were added, until the man who threatened to be called Toddy, for short, and be- cause the girls insisted he was not old enough to be known as Grandpa, especially when his base ball proclivities were considered, finally went off toward the big garage to report to the unpopular boss.
'That was a great story," Ted said in parting. 'We will have to have another tomorrow after- noon."
"All right," responded the proud old Silas, happily, entirely ignoring the task set for him with the broom.
Let's do it for him," suggested Judith.
"
JANE ALLEN:
"With pleasure," replied Winifred Ayres, who grabbed the broom first and after waltzing around with it for a few turns, surrendered it to the next girl who did the same thing. Presently the phonograph was started, and by the time the latest dance record was finished, the room was as clean as if it had been swept to the regular strum of hardship.
"Of course this wasn't sweeping day," said Jane, servilly, "but it gave us a pretty good dose of exercise, so what's the difference?"
"Noney," answered Dozia, "except that I have just had a shampoo, the first since my throat went 'goofy,' and this dust - "
"Let's fumigate," proposed some one, and that was answered by the hose being dragged out from its place and squirted, first in a tiny stream like a spray, then the operator got careless and the water actually ran along the floor of that lovely new gymnasium, the pride of all the big build- ings.
For a few moments the reverend seniors, and gay young others, forgot all about being grown up, and they had the sort of time usually enjoyed at a beach party; but it did not take them long to recover.
"My word!" gasped Judith. "Grandpa may
SENIOR 145
be blamed for this ! We have got to dry up this floor. But how?"
"Sweep it," suggested Ted, who made a muddy lane with the broom to demonstrate.
"That won't do," Judith objected. "We have got to mop it. But where's tihe mops?" She feared the muddy floor might do more harm than bring reprimand upon the innocent head of Grandpa Todd.
There was a wild scrimmage for anything that might answer the mopping purpose, and pres- ently a few old sweaters, and even a pair or two of last year's bloomers were dragged out from the lockers.
"Now exercise your skill," demanded Judith. "You will be gay and reckless, and make the Red Sea return."
"This sweater — sweats," moaned Ted. "Look: at the green frog pond I'm making."
"Here, let me rinse it," suggested Jane, and she turned a stream on the spot that looked like an artificial lake in later summer after a dry spell — scummy.
The fascination of a running stream was too much to withstand. More than one spot, in fact more than many spots, appeared to need hosing, and Jane was only too anxious to oblige. So she
146 JANE ALLEN:
turned the nice little nozzle, with her finger over the spots to make it fine, in many directions. And howr it did squirt!
"Look out for the mattresses!" yelled Doze. "There's a stream running right down to this one."
"Shut it off! Shut it off!" yelled an excited chorus, for a wild hose in a gym is not less danger- ous than a bull in a china shop.
But no one could reach the faucet.
"Step on it! Jump on it!" called out Wini- fred.
Ted Guthrie tried to do both, but she slipped right in the biggest puddle and sat on it!
The things that happened then were foolish enough for a high school team to have perpre- trated, but the reverend seniors and others were, after all, merely children posing as grown ups, and sometimes the pose grew irksome, and they just naturally discarded it.
What time later does not matter, but before the shades of eventide settled over the gym, it had been scoured and housecleaned as never be- fore. The more the workers tried to curtail the scrubbing the more pools appeared, until Jane Allen declared there were secret springs under that floor,,
SENIOR 147
"We'll have to wax it," declared Nettie, who lived at home in summer and knew something about floors.
"With what?" demanded Dozia.
"Butcher's wax," informed Nettie.
"Butchers?" queried Winifred.
;<They use sawdust and I think it would take that to cover up this," moaned Judith. 'We ought to fill the puddles in with something."
"This is our busy day," commented Ted, try- ing to hide the damage done her velveteen skirt by shaking, brushing and slapping it.
"And all on account of I>anny McGorry's home run," recalled Jane. "The question is: where's the shine gone?"
"You did it," declared Winifred. "It was you who grabbed the hose."
"I stand and plead guilty," admitted Jane. "But what difference does that make? The mess is a mess, in spite of the perpetrator. I never would have believed a squirt of clean water could have gone into those shades. I distinctly see the outlines of Ted's brown hose. I never knew all wool would run like that."
"Lucky we saved the mattresses," reflected Judith. "I've seen less destruction after a fire. Jane, next time try something simpler."
148 JANE ALLEN: SENIOR
"Here comes one of the faculty!" gasped Cora Mead. "Now what shall we do?"
"Divert her, of course," said Judith quickly. "Didn't you ever see a 'cop' divert traffic?"
"Jude to the bat," called out Jane; and that was the signal for Judith to go out and "divert" the dignified faculty member, who was headed straight on for that scene of disaster.
Instinctively a group backed to the door and held it fast. Like school children they had gone into the fun, and now they were playing up to the same juvenile type.
Meanwhile the floor was actually drying. The open windows helped, and the futuristic shades were fading from the maps of the world outlined under the verv feet of the combatants.
V
"She's got her," whispered Cora, as Judith marched up the walk arm in arm with the de- ceived and innocent faculty member.
"Jude will pass the potatoes around tonight," said Jane, "see if she isn't seated directly opposite that faculty at dinner."
"Hers be the honor," ejaculated Doze. "And she's welcome. I would rather sit at the end near the — pie."
And presently the tinted floor was left to its own reflections.
CHAPTER XIII
A MOTHER'S CONFIDENCE
WE have got to make this the biggest prom we have ever had," said Net- tie Brocton at the last meeting of the committee.
<Who is going to be responsible for the in- vitation list?" inquired Inez Wilson, loftily.
"Every member," replied Nettie. "We can't pick each other's friends and we want every girl to have her friends here. Otherwise the commit- tees would not have been made up from all the classes."
"But suppose we get "
"We won't," interrupted Judith. "We will get every girl's friend or friends, and whoever is eligible to Wellington, is entitled to her own following while here." Judicious Judith!
"Applause and cheers!" sang out Dozia. "Of all women's colleges this should be the most demo- cratic. We started with a Betsy."
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ico JANE ALLEN:
e
Unspoken approval was rife at this. Som Wellingtons were rich and influential, others were in ordinary circumstances but had an advantage in talents, and still others were simply there to be educated. But as Dozia said, Wellington should be democratic, and it was trying to be in the arrangements for this prom.
"Who will take care of the special feature?" Jane asked next.
"A committee with Miss Nora Travers as chairman," spoke up the secretary, Winifred Ayres. 'The feature will be a Grecian Dance to be performed by two professionals." She paused to allow the smile its way. Then con- tinued, "Except for this number side shows will be barred."
Satisfaction prevailed. The cards were handed out in packs, and the meeting broke up in a regu- lar business session, such as is sometimes held after the formal business meeting adjourns.
For days and nights thereafter nothing but prom was talked of. Everyone entered into the spirit of the affair with the vim and sparkle peculiar to youth; and Nettie's fears, that too much had been left to her inexperienced hands, were speedily repudiated.
"And I can guess who is going to be your —
SENIOR 151
boy," said Judith to Jane, slamming down an innocent note book.
"I don't mind," replied Jane. "You know, Jude, we have had to leave little Shirley and Bobbie a lot to themselves lately. Not that I don't think it is best for the younger girls to work out their own salvation, but our attention to them last year was so spectacular, it is rather a delicate matter to slow down with such a jam of brakes. Yes, I am asking Shirley's nice brother, Ted Duncan," admitted Jane rogu- ishly.
"I knew you would. Well, I suppose Doze will have her famous Phil down, and all the other girls will exhibit their Hope Chesters. As for me — I haven't decided. ,You see, I can afford to be choosey," said Judith, coquettishly.
"That's because a number of vour friends are
V
now seeing the big city, of course," replied Jane. "Don't forget me when the dances thin out," she reminded her chum.
"As if yours ever did," scoffed Judith.
And so the plans rolled along like a snow ball gathering impetus and bulk as it went.
A call from Miss Morgan's office summons Jane that afternoon.
"We have to ask you to go out to Mrs. Cast-
I52 JANE ALLEN:
bolt's this afternoon," said the director of the bureau. "Mrs. Jennings has returned, and they are more upset than ever. I suppose you have seen for yourself that the case is particularly delicate and the sort we always try to bring quickly to a satisfactory finish," she explained. "It is not money those folks need, but advice. They should be made to see that being without funds is a temporary condition, and that friends and relatives should be brought to aid them — it is scarcely the work for a philanthropic organiza- tion," said Miss Morgan, kindly.
"I have felt that from the first," replied Jane, "but the more I went into it the more pathetic it seemed. To be in danger of losing their home just for the sake of some overdue notes "
"But there are hundreds just like that," said Miss Morgan. 'We can never undertake to advance money — outright."
'But what can we do?" asked Jane, somewhat bluntly.
'What do they propose? You know the client's own plans
"Oh, yes. They plan to get the money, but they don't know how," Jane answered rather rue- fully.
'Well, run over and have a talk with them.
SENIOR 153
Then write up your notes and we will see if we can suggest a plan finally," continued the super- visor.
Jane was feeling discouraged. She hardly knew how to approach her friends again without being prepared to answer their financial ques- tions. But Mrs. Jennings should be interviewed. Jane wondered if the interview were ever to be the keystone of her new course.
She found the young widow most pleasant and attractive. In her sombre black her bright, vivid youth seemed to sparkle, like something shining against a jetty background.
"I am really much embarrassed," said Mrs. Jennings. "I had no idea mother was going to — apply "
'You seem to consider us so — official," Jane interrupted. She sought to discount the profes- sional lines and place the matter into those of friendship.
"I am sure you are very kind," continued Mrs. Jennings, "but we have never before had any such experience. I have heard how generous you were to little Jill and Joy during my absence." This somewhat lessened her reserve.
"It was just fun," said Jane, determined to
break through further. "I had a wonderful time
154 JANE ALLEN:
with them, and my friends were actually jealous of the chance I had at playing mother."
Mrs. Jennings smiled. When she did, Jane discovered a charm in her expression easy to as- sociate with stage talent. She had flashing brown eyes and dark hair, was tall and so slender. Jane regarded her as the embodiment of perfection in appearance. So many of the college girls were trying to get just that slim, with walking, exer- cising and dieting.
'You are very young to be in such work," said the widow gently. She was too well bred to show any resentment did she actually feel it.
'When one becomes a reverend senior," re- plied Jane, "age is negative. It must fit any demand put upon it. But really, I do so enjoy this course — perhaps I would not, had I to take on all sorts of experiences." This was a tactful compliment, Jane considered.
"It's nice of you to say so," replied the other. "But I fancy you will want to show results." She shrugged her shoulders. "I cannot imagine anyone being able to make headway in this tangle." Her eyes dropped disconsolately.
The conversation was being held in the small reception room and no one, but Mrs. Jennings and Jane, was present. In explanation of this,
SENIOR 155
Mrs. Jennings said her mother and aunt had gone out for a drive with a friend, taking the children along. This made the entire interview difficult for Jane. All the previous understandings were naturally lost sight of. The children, however, seemed to offer a safe opening for conversation.
"And the babies did not suffer from their wild night at Wellington?'" asked Jane, cautiously.
'They have never stopped talking about it," replied tjie mother. "I cannot imagine you girls caring for them in your room."
"You should have seen us," exclaimed Jane with unusual warmth. "My chum, Judith Stearns, is too funny — she can make a good time out of almost any emergency." This was not at all the line of conversation she had rehearsed, but how could she ask this little woman about her private affairs? Social Service just then seemed a misnomer. The young woman was young indeed, and Jane, regarding her, could easily imagine what a bride she must have been a few years before. And now to have to start all
over again!
"I believe our families are old friends," said Jane, after an awkward pause. "My father and your uncle were in the same mining company."
"So I believe," replied Mrs. Jennings. "But
I56 JANE ALLEN:
uncle is rather estranged from us now. He simply ahbors the stage." "Do you like it?"
•7
"Oh, I love it," glowed the young widow. "But it is not easy to get a chance at it. I have had some experience, and rather good preparation,
but when it comes to being cast " She
stopped and dropped her eyes. 'Well, it always seems as if the old hands are in demand, and the new must wait."
"I understand," said Jane, feeling very foolish. The one fortunate circumstance to this inane in- terview was that it was solitary. Had Judith Stearns, or Dozia Dal ton a chance to "listen in" they would have howled at the dismal failure Jane \vas making of it all.
She stood up to leave. "I had hoped to have a word with your mother," she said timidly, feel- ing the dark eyes boring through her, "but I don't think I should wait longer." Jane noticed the face before her change its expression.
"Miss Allen, I know you are trying to be kind," said Mrs. Jennings impulsively, "but no one can help us. We have got to get some money privately, and I have been the unfortunate means of using up what we had." She arose to draw down a shade that was admitting a shaft of sun-
SENIOR 157
light. "I had no idea, really, that I could not quickly replace the money, and in fact I expected to add considerable to it; but you see this acting is a rather precarious profession, and mother did not warn me how important it was to have money before the legal claims became due."
'Were you disappointed in your trip?" Jane was encouraged to ask.
The young woman bit her lips and shifted un- easily. Jane * was almost sorry she had asked so direct a question. Then she smiled and the re* serve was broken.
"I trusted a friend," she said, "but who can one trust in business?"
"Oh well," soothed Jane, "you have undoubt- edly added to your experience. But as a Social Service worker," she laughed a little, "I am not supposed to condone conditions that interrupt the normal life of little children. A mother seems to be the most wanted creature in all creation, and no matter how kind and efficient a friend or substitute may be, we are directed to keep the children with the mother, always or almost always."
"Indeed my mother is much better than I am with the babies," insisted Mrs. Jennings. "Of course they are mine, and I love them dearly, but
i58 JANE ALLEN:
I have not the slighest fear of leaving them with mother. That particular day it was unfortunate she should have been taken ill, but even then see how well she managed to get you to help
her."
"I can easily understand your reliance," said Jane, "and I only made that statement out of loyalty. As a matter of fact, I am sure Mrs. Castbolt is a wonderful mother, and I can easily see why you should trust her implicity."
"That is exactly the trouble. She has always been so wonderful we have all leaned on her too heavily. Her health is failing and we cannot realize it," said the daughter, with a show of anxiety. "But I am going to see my brother and get him to give up college. We simply can- not lose this home. Of course, he does not know our funds have shrunken. You see, I took what was out aside for the note and paid it for the stage experience. Now I have — neither." Her fine features hardened pitifully with this thought.
"But you are not serious in saying you are going to ask your brother to give up college?'3 Jane asked anxiously.
"There is nothing else to do. We certainly cannot ask for charity."
What a bitter word that was! No wonder,
SENIOR 159
Jane thought, it has been transposed lately to other softer expressions under Social Service.
"But don't you think your uncle would help? I have been wanting to see him. He is such a friend of dad's "
"But he is so stubborn," interrupted Mrs. Jen- nings. "My brother was always a favorite of his until he played with his college club. You see Uncle Reynolds has a prejudice. His wife, at one time, favored the stage."
"And the experience has embittered him," re- flected Jane aloud. "Don't you think, Mrs. Jennings, he might listen to me on account of dad?"
"You are very far from the stage type — I mean you are so frankly a girl," Mrs. Jennings hurried to explain. "I am almost sure Uncle Reynolds would be civil to you. But you see, there is so little ground to work upon. We should not have been in such straits."
'The old reliable adage that blood is thicker than water ought to have weight with your uncle," said Jane, tritely. "But if I could see him "
"No doubt you would be able to invent your story," supplied the other. "Well, I would do almost anything other than ask Renny to leave
160 JANE ALLEN:
his class. He is such a fine boy," and the sister's eyes sparkled with sentiment now.
"Your uncle's office is in New Bayard I have heard. That is only a few miles out and I can drive there with a girl friend. Would you be positively opposed to my trying to influence him?" asked Jane, eagerly. She quickly followed with: "I am sure he owes it to your mother "
"Oh, it is only mother I am thinking of," said the daughter sadly. "She has had so much trouble, and if this comes '
"It won't," said Jane decisively. She was by no means as confident as she professed to be, but she knew tfliat inspiration would be best imparted with confidence. She continued: "Now, Mrs. Jennings, suppose you and I just act like two college chums. You are so short a time away you can easily imagine yourself back "
"But such a lot has happened " Her eyes
blinked.
"Making you more of a woman but no less of a girl," said Jane with haphazard eloquence.
"Now, just let me go see this ogre " she made
a twisted face in excuse for the assumption. "And I will tell him about those babies. Does he know what dears they are?"
"No."
SENIOR 161
"Then I will use that as an opening wedge. [You have no idea, Mrs. Jennings, how green I am. But you see, dad mentioned your family, and I want to please him by accomplishing some- thing." Her humility was not assumed.
"I wish you luck," said the other dryly. "Uncle Reynolds is not exactly a — gallant."
"I like them that way," declared Jane, feeling elated now that she had been able to obtain some footing. "I am afraid of no man who claims to be a woman hater."
"They usually are — putty," admitted Mrs. Jennings with a smile. "I should like you to meet my brother," she broke off without warning. "He is a perfectly splendid fellow."
"I am sure he is. But don't tell him I am med- dling, please. I can just imagine how he would hate me if he knew the profession I have chosen," Jane argued.
"He is a sensible chap," defended the sister, "and if I had only taken something sensible in my last year at college, I suppose I would not find myself so helpless now."
"Would you like Social Service?" asked Jane suddenly.
"To practice on ourselves?" the young woman asked with a shrug of her shoulders, A bitter *
1 62 JANE ALLEN:
ness could not be disguised in her attempt to hide it.
"Oh, this is not really a 'case'," declared Jane. "I am just trying to keep myself out of mischief. You should see what my chum is doing! She has actually made us adopt a grandfather," laughed Jane.
"Adopt a grandfather?"
"Yes. I don't think it will be betraying con- fidence to mention his name. In fact Judy brought him right in, and we formally adopted him. Do you know a man they call Grandpa Todd?"
"Of course I do. You don't mean to say you have taken him into Wellington?"
"Indeed we have, bag and baggage," declared Jane. "And I must say I admire Judith's cour- age. He is quite an acquisition."
"He is — Carol Dare's uncle," said the other slowly and evenly.
"I believe so," said Jane simply.
"Do you know her?"
"Only by reputation. She is something of an agent for theatrical folks, isn't she?"
"She professes to be." Again that bitter tone sounded as if it had been spoken from behind the footlights. "But I have good reason to doubt
SENIOR 163
her claims," said the young widow. "It was to her I entrusted our precious- -wealth."
"Really?" Jane did not feel like betraying the confidence given her by Mrs. Castbolt. "If she is in a good position I shall have to tell Judy to get after her. That will be another uncle to work on, only the process will be reversed," said Jane, happily.
"If anyone can get Carol Dare to do anything for a person other than herself she will indeed be — clever," declared Mrs. Jennings sharply.
"We can only try," said Jane. "One of our tenets is to have relatives do their part to help those in distress. Why not Carol Dare?"
CHAPTER XIV
A DANCE WITHIN A DANCE
THE "prom" came next. Excitement and interest were so co-mingled as to be synonymous, and if there was a girl in Wellington who was not eager for that great night, it must have been she who had no new party dress.
There really were a few such. But even these Cinderellas had their compensations, for this being a real benefit for the Fund (what college has not a fund running?) opportunity was given for serving on committees that carried about trays of flowers, or handed around sandwiches, or even served lemonade from1 a Rebecca's well, and to take part in such service required a simple cos- tume provided by the general committee. So it was that more than one girl had a rollicking good time even without the proverbial party dress.
Bobbie and Shirley, the two sophs who were such prominent freshies the year before, were helpless in their excitement. Teddy, Shirley's
164
JANE ALLEN: SENIOR 165
popular and good looking brother, was to be Jane's escort, and while the sister hoped for some of his attention she was proud that so popular a girl as Jane should have chosen her brother as her partner.
Judith was going with Mason Blair, whose name suggested the Toot-Toot he was commonly known fay. Not that a Blair always toots, but any noise is a band to a college girl. Dozia had not made known her intentions but everybody hoped for Phil, even the girl who was "Hoped Chested" by proxy on his account.
So the "prom" promised to outdo its predeces- sors, and the fact that gentlemen were now per- mitted to come to Wellington and take part in the big social affairs, gave the zest that goes to make any affair interesting.
Nettie Brocton was more nervous than the other students because this was her first attempt at handling a real function, and while all classes were participating, she felt the responsibility as chairman, and knew that the student governing body looked to her to make the "prom" a real affair.
'You can't tell a thing about it until the Danc- ing starts, or, in fact, until it is well along," she confided to Inez Wilson. "I asked to have all the
166 JANE ALLEN:
returns in advance, but that is only air. They who dance will pay, none others," she declared, sagely.
But earlier than usual the big auditorium was filling up, and as "side shows were barred ' ac- cording to previous orders, it was easy to calculate that the assemblage was a splendid testimonial to the comradeship of old Wellington.
"A lot of strangers here," remarked Winifred. She had been secretary to the committee and fancied the writing of names might intimate the personality of the owners.
"A wonderful crowd," replied Inez. "I guess Nettie won't have anything to worry about when the count is made up."
Fluttering hearts, and flushed cheeks, and dancing eyes must be seen to be appreciated, and there was an attractive display of all these on the slippery floor of the auditorium when the orchestra broke into its harmony. As for gowns, it would have been difficult to decide which was most effective ; the simple white daisy kind or the flashing and brilliant golds, reds, greens, and other stolen floral tones. Perhaps each required each to bring out in fullness the satisfying effects of both.
Jane was verdant in two shades of leaf green,
SENIOR 167
Judith glowed in a glorious American beauty satin, the sheen of which sent out flashes worthy of the title, Dozia wore black and looked queenly in it, while Nettie dimpled, appropriately, in a spangled net.
The two sophs, Bobbie and Sally, fairly ex- haled the joy of the undergrad; Sally in varie- gated golds and Bobbie in changeable blues. The Tellit reporter was bewildered with the task be- fore her, for a description of the "prom" should, ethically, contain a description of the gowns.
See the Tellit , page one, double headed display for a full account, and if your favorite student is not listed there communicate with the editor. She should be. The "prom" was entirely compre- hensive, took in all classes and barred sorority restrictions along with the side shows.
At intermission the special number was intro- duced. That this was to be a Grecian Dance done by two professionals was no secret, still, an air of expectation pervaded the room when the floor was finally cleared.
The premonitory mumble of ancient music stirred; then the dancers swept in like a gale of rhythmic motion. The Greek maid was being tossed around by the Greek "god," in that modern manner peculiar to interpretative dancing, but to
i68 JANE ALLEN:
the audience it represented marvellous skill in escaping mortal injury. How he caught her just as she flew, and how he swirled her like a pin wheel, then tossed her up in the air and caught her upon the return bounce !
"Nimble and nifty," remarked Judith, who sat on a window ledge that was low enough to be used decorously by a reverend senior.
"Real dancers," agreed Jane, watching the young giant perform the double feat of showing grace with skill in acrobatic swirls, performed in such a subtle manner as to leave spectators won- idering whether the Greek dancers of old were really made up with the same number of bones and joints that moderns are encumbered with.
An encore brought the dancers back, and they varied their number with poses and statuesque "stills ' that should have made Mercury feel the necessity of taking lessons in aviation.
It was while making a "still" that Jane had an opportunity to penetrate the make-up of the "goddess," and behind it she discovered features vaguely familiar.
"I have seen her before," she whispered to Judith. "Where, I wonder?"
"But the man. He with those eyes, those mouth!" Judith was gasping in ecstasy and
SENIOR 169
breathing hard. The young man was undoubt- edly handsome, and no makeup could cover the classic outline of his features; so even Judith's foolishness might have been pardoned.
"But I know the girl!" exclaimed Jane in Judith's ear. "She is Carol Dare!"
"Really!"
"I am positive."
"Then we can meet the man "
"Judith!"
"Why not ? Isn't he charming ? That's a weak word. He is inspiring "
"Now, Judith," Jane was attempting to be calm but her discovery left her obviously agitated.
"Don't you want to meet him?"
"I am just wondering whether I want to meet her."
"I would rather not," said Judith. "She might ask me to return her grandfather — or is he her uncle?"
The dancers were towing and otherwise acknowledging the generous applause. Now they were capering off to the dressing rooms.
"Shall I ask them to stay?" Nettie Brocton wanted to know. She had corralled a group of seniors in which Jane and Judith were included.
"Oh, of course!" exhaled Judith.
i_70 JANE ALLEN:
_ ___ ..
"Why not?" demanded Winifred.
"What's his name?" begged Judith.
"I haven't heard. She made the arrange- ments," replied the flushed chairman. "All right, I'll send them an invitation to stay and finish the dance with us. Norma will be delighted. This is her find, you know."
"Don't forget me," sang out Judith.
"Get me a couple," appealed Winifred.
"Give the Greek lady over to your — boy, Doze. He looks kind of sad. Knows you preferred Phil," teased Ted Guthrie.
"Whatever you do don't let the Greek lady claim Apollo. I shall never forgive you "
But Nettie was gone on ahead of the threat.
A flutter of excitement went through the as- semblage when a half hour later the dancers ap- peared with rather uncertain complexions, but otherwise wearing their normal expressions. The young woman known to Jane, and perhaps a few others as Carol Dare, wore a most effective black costume, so simple as to be extravagant, and so Grecian ! Around her head was the band she had worn in the last pose, and when she stepped out to dance with some one introduced by the com- mittee, not a few youths neglected their own part- ners to stare after her.
SENIOR 171
"Some pippin," said the young fellow who came with Teddy Duncan. Ted was then com- ing up to claim Jane.
"But oh, the man!" gasped Judith, pretending exquisite anguish at the very thought.
"Shall I bring him up?" asked the accom- modating Ted.
"Oh, would you?" sighed Judith, waving off the protest of Mason Blair, her own escort.
But when Ted went to the other end of the room the Greek youth was just about to take a partner out on the floor, and Ted returned empty handed, so to speak.
'The next," he promised, with one of his most ingratiating smiles for the pretending Judith.
"Then I shall have to fall back on Toots," she said, but Toots knew she did not exactly mean that, not that alone, at any rate.
Jane and Ted swept off into the dancing throng.
"Do you know him?" she asked. "All the girls will be sure to make a foolish fuss over him, of course," she continued, swaying into step, uner- ringly.
"No, I don't know him, but I have met — the lady," admitted Ted rather uncertainly.
"She is Miss Dare, is she not?"
172 JANE ALLEN:
"The same. Does up all colleges with her wonderful shill at raking in the shekles," con- tinued the youth. "Not but what she is a first- class performer, but what I have reference to is her business tact. Once she takes it into her bobbed head to give a turn she does it, so I've been told," explained Ted Duncan, brother to the famous little Shirley.
"She is her own press agent?"
"And business manager rolled into one. She danced at Locton the other night, but this chap was not with her, and her partner rather fumbled the ball. Makes all the difference in the world who is the other fellow in an act like that," said Ted, seriously.
"I fancy it would," replied Jane. "Suppose he should fumble her, when she makes one of those high dives?"
"Ker-plunk, I'll say," continued Jane's part- ner.
"I did enjoy the exhibition, however," re- marked Jane. She was wondering if it would be to her advantage to meet Carol Dare under the present circumstances. The next thought erased this idea, for why should Jane bring Social Service into the prom?
The dance ended and was encored. As no
SENIOR 173
"cut-ins" were allowed the same partners glided off again. A few more turns and the encore was over. Then the usual rush toward the punch bowl swept Jane and her partner along with it.
Carol Dare was chatting, smiling and other- wise acting up to the admiring multitude of youths — the girls may have admired but not quite as frankly as did their escorts. It was evident she was in her glory. Judith whispered this to Nettie. The other Greek dancer had slipped off somewhere, and not even the most searching eyes (Judith's and Dozia's) could locate