Marjorie Dean, College Junior

“Yes; that’s the man. How did you know which one it was?” Jerry showed surprise.

“He had a near collision with Miss Walbert that day.” Marjorie related the incident.

“It is a shame!” Leila’s face had darkened as she listened to both girls. “I hope Leslie Cairns takes her in hand. She’s the very one to cause a bad accident and then home go our cars. She is such a poor driver. She bowls along the road without regard for man or beast. She has a good car which will presently be in the ditch.”

“Do you think President Matthews would ban cars if a Hamilton girl were to ditch her car or met with serious accident to herself?” Vera asked reflectively.

“Hard to say, Midget. It would depend upon the seriousness of the accident. Suppose a girl were to ditch her car and be killed. It would be horrifying. I doubt whether we would be allowed our cars after any such accident.”

“Grant nothing like that ever happens.” Lucy Warner gave a slight shudder. “I shall never forget the day Kathie was hurt.”

“None of us who were with her that day are likely ever to forget it. Miss Cairns escaped easily considering the way she was driving. She ought to be the very one to tell that Miss Walbert a few things not in the automobile guide,” declared Jerry. “She certainly did not appear at advantage this afternoon.”

CHAPTER XII – A TRAITOR IN CAMP

Leslie Cairns’ opinion of the matter coincided with Jerry’s, though the latter could not know it. To become involved in a roadside argument with an irate taxicab driver did not appeal to her in the least. She was not half so angry with him, however, as with Elizabeth Walbert. She blamed the latter for the whole thing. For several minutes after Helen and Jerry had driven by them, Elizabeth and the driver continued to quarrel.

“How much do you want for the damage you say we have done your cab?” Leslie had impatiently inquired of the man. “Cut it out, Bess, and get back to your car,” she had ordered in the next breath. “Let me settle this business.”

A momentary hesitation and Elizabeth had obeyed. She could not afford to antagonize Leslie, at present. She had an axe of her own yet to be ground.

“I oughtta have twenty-five dollars. It ain’t my car. Repairin’ comes high.”

“Very good. Here is your money. Wait a minute.” Leslie had extracted the sum from her handbag. With it came a small pad of blank paper and a fountain pen. Then and there she obtained not only a receipt for the money but a statement of release as well. She was well aware that it would not cost twenty-five dollars to repaint the side of the cab scraped by their car, but she preferred the matter summarily closed.

Returning to the car she had said shortly: “I’ll take the wheel.” Elizabeth had resumed the driver’s seat. Nor had she made any move toward relinquishing it.

“You heard what I said, Bess,” she had sharply rebuked. “Either that, or you and I are on the outs for good. You let me drive that car and show you a few things you need badly to know about driving.” Leslie’s lowering face and tense utterance had had its effect. Elizabeth had allowed her to drive back to Hamilton but had sulked all the way to the campus.

At the garage she had unbent a little and inquired how much Leslie had paid the driver. “I’ll return it to you next week,” she had promised.

“Suit yourself about that. I’m in no hurry. I took it upon myself to settle with the idiot. It wouldn’t worry me if you never paid it. I thought it best to pacify him. I don’t care to have him reporting us to Matthews as he threatened to do.” This had been Leslie’s mind on the subject.

“I don’t believe he would ever go near Doctor Matthews. Still you couldn’t afford to risk being reported,” Elizabeth had retorted with special emphasis on the “you.”

To this Leslie had vouchsafed no reply. She had merely stared at her companion in a most disconcerting fashion and walked off and left her. She was thoroughly nettled with Elizabeth for her lack of gratitude. Natalie was right about her it seemed. She was also wondering where the ungrateful sophomore had obtained certain information which she apparently possessed. No one beyond her seven intimates among the Sans knew that she had been reprimanded by President Matthews for the accident to Katherine Langly. To the other members of the club she had intimated that she had adjusted the matter quietly with Katherine.

That evening, while Jerry was recounting to her chums what she and Helen had heard of the altercation between the cab driver and the two girls, Leslie was having a confidential talk with Natalie Weyman. She had gone straight from the garage to her room, eaten dinner at the Hall and asked Natalie to come to her room after dinner.

“Nat, you are right about Bess. She is no good,” Leslie began, dropping into a chair opposite that of her friend. Briefly narrating the happening of the afternoon, she repeated the remark Elizabeth had made to her at the garage. “What would you draw from that?” she asked.

“Someone has been talking.” Natalie compressed her lips in a tight line. “You are sure you never told her yourself?”

“Positively, no. I have never babbled my private affairs to Bess, or Lola either. Only the old crowd were told the facts of that trouble. We have a traitor in the camp and I know who it is.” Leslie’s eyes narrowed with sinister significance. “It’s Dulcie. I am going to find out quietly what all she has been saying about me and to whom she has been saying it. I’m sure she told Bess about the summons. That isn’t so serious. I could overlook that, although I don’t like it. It is the other things she may have told. That’s what worries me. She and I have been on the outs since that Valentine masquerade last year. She hardly ever comes to my room. I am not sorry. I never got along well with Dulcie. I never trusted her.”

“Dulcie ought to know better than tell all she knows to that Walbert creature,” Natalie made indignant return. “Why, Les, suppose she were foolish enough to tell her about that high tribunal stunt?” Natalie drew a sharp breath of consternation. “Dulcie knows the rights of the Remson mix-up, too.”

“Dulcie knows too much. So do some of the other girls. If I had it to do over again, I would not tell anyone but you how I put over a stunt. Why did we haze Bean? Simply because she reported me to Matthews after Langly had agreed to drop it. The girls were all in on the hazing, so not one of them would be safe if they told it.”

“The Remson affair would do you the most harm if it got out,” Natalie said decidedly. “It is contemptible in Dulcie to gossip about you after all the favors you have done her. You’ve lent her money over and over again. You know she never pays it back if she can slide out of it.”

Leslie made an indifferent gesture of assent. “She owes me over two hundred dollars now. I lent it to her during her freshie year. She paid up what she borrowed of me last year, but she never said a word about the other. Dulcie has nerve, Nat; pure, unadulterated nerve. She can’t bear me lately because I run the Sans to suit myself. I always ran the club and she knows that. Last year she decided that she would like to run it herself. I sat down on her every time she tried it. She deliberately left the back door of that house unlocked the night we hazed Bean. I told her to see to it. She was edgeways at me. She never went near the door. You know what happened.”

“Dulcie will have to be told a few plain truths.” Natalie frowned displeased anxiety. The news of Dulcie’s defection was rather alarming.

“She is going to hear them from me, but not yet. I shall catch her dead to rights before I have things out with her. I’ve made up my mind just how I am going to do it, provided the rest of the Sans stand by me. It will be to their interest to do so. I mean, with their support, I can give her precisely what she deserves.”

“I’ll stand by you. Joan will, too. She is down on Dulcie for some reason or other. They haven’t been on speaking terms for a week. I asked Joan what the trouble was between them. She said Dulcie made her weary and she didn’t care whether she ever spoke to her again or not. That was all I could get out of her.”

“Hm-m!” Leslie looked interested. “I shall find out tomorrow what Joan has against her. If Dulcie hasn’t gabbed anything worse to Bess, and I presume a few others, than the news that I received a summons from his high and cranky mightiness, I will let her off with my candid opinion of her. If she has been a busy little news distributor of secret matters, she will rue it. I’ll have no traitors among the Sans.”

CHAPTER XIII – WELL MATCHED

Leslie’s first crafty move toward determining Dulcie Vale’s treachery was in the direction of Elizabeth Walbert. The latter had promised to return the next week the twenty-five dollars Leslie had expended in her behalf. Leslie planned to wait until she did so before making an attempt to discover how many of the Sans’ secrets Elizabeth knew. She was certain that Elizabeth would return the loan promptly, as she received a large allowance from home and as much more as she chose to demand.

To seek the self-satisfied sophomore’s society was not what Leslie proposed to do. She intended matters should be the other way around. She could then take Elizabeth completely off her guard and find out more easily what Dulcie had imparted to her.

Elizabeth also had views of her own regarding Leslie. The latter had not been nearly so friendly with her since college had opened as she had been during the previous year. Leslie had renewed her old comradeship with Natalie Weyman, whom Elizabeth detested and stood a little in fear of. Natalie had never been friendly with her. She had always held herself aloof. Whenever they chanced to meet she treated Elizabeth as a mere acquaintance. It was galling to the ambitious, self-seeking sophomore, but she loftily ignored Natalie’s frigidity. She had complained of it once to Leslie and been soundly snubbed for her pains. “You needn’t expect much of Nat. She doesn’t like you. That’s why she freezes you out. It won’t do you any good to tell me about it, for Nat is my particular pal.” This had been Leslie’s unsympathetic reception of the complaint.

In her heart Elizabeth did not like Leslie. She resented Leslie’s domineering ways. This did not deter her from fawning upon the despotic senior. She was depending on Leslie to help her regain a certain popularity which had been hers as a freshman. She had cherished a vain hope that she might be elected to the sophomore presidency. To her chagrin she had not even been nominated. Determined to shine on the campus, her thoughts were now turning toward basket ball. She was now anxious to enlist Leslie’s services in helping her devise a means of making the sophomore team. As a senior Leslie could easily influence the sports committee to favor her. Mae Lowry and Sarah Pierce, both Sans, were on the committee.

It had been rumored that Professor Leonard and the sports committee had disagreed; that the instructor had coolly advised the committee to do as it pleased and dropped all interest in sports for that year. With him out of the reckoning, nothing stood in her way provided Leslie chose to favor her.

Her greatest ambition, however, was to belong to the Sans. She was always privately wishing that one member of the club would drop out. Leslie had once more told her that the club limit was eighteen members. If anyone left the club an outside eligible would be chosen to replace the retiring member so as to keep the number of girls at eighteen. She had also tried on the previous June to arrange for a room at Wayland Hall for the ensuing college year. She had been unsuccessful in the attempt.

After leaving Leslie on the occasion of her mishap on Hamilton Highway, she had realized her folly in showing spleen against her companion. She resolved to offset it as speedily as possible. She wrote Leslie a note which remained unanswered. She then telephoned the Hall, but Leslie was out. Her allowance check having arrived, she had an excuse to go to see Leslie. Her afternoon classes over, she set out for Wayland Hall one rainy afternoon, hoping the inclement weather had kept Leslie indoors.

Her baby-blue eyes gleamed triumph at the cheering news that Miss Cairns was in. As she ascended the stairs to Leslie’s room, which was the largest and most expensive in the house, her curious glances roved everywhere. She wished she could see into the room of every student. Her lips fell into an envious pout as she thought of her own failure to get into the Hall. She would try again in June, on that she was determined.

Coming to the door of Leslie’s room, she uttered a muffled exclamation of impatience. A large “Busy” sign stared her in the face. She did not turn and go away. Instead her surveying eyes took in the long hall from end to end. Next, she drew close to the door and listened. She could hear no voices from within. Leslie was evidently alone and studying.

With a defiant lifting of her chin Elizabeth rapped on the panel twice and loudly. She listened again and was repaid by the sound of a chair being hastily moved, then approaching footsteps. The door opened with a jerk. Leslie stared at her visitor with no pleasantness.

“I came to return that twenty-five dollars.” Elizabeth did not give Leslie a chance to speak first. “I saw the sign on your door. I thought I would knock, anyway. I’ve been trying to see you for a week to give it to you. Why didn’t you answer my note, or didn’t you receive it?”

Leslie continued to stare. She was taken aback for an instant by the cool impudence of the other girl. This was in reality the only thing about Elizabeth that Leslie liked. She found the sophomore’s bold assurance amusing.

“Come in,” she drawled, assuming her most indifferent pose. “I intended asking you if you could read. I’ll forgive you. I told you there was no hurry about that money.”

“What’s money to me? Not that much!” Elizabeth snapped her fingers. “I can have all the money I want to spend here. I simply happened to be without it the other day. I won’t stay. I see you are really busy writing letters. It goes to show you can write. I thought perhaps you had forgotten how.”

Having delivered this thrust she busied herself with her handbag. “Here you are; much obliged.” She tendered the money to Leslie. “I must go.” She turned as though to depart.

“Oh, sit down!” Leslie tossed the little wad of bills on the table. “I can finish this letter later. I have to keep that sign on the door when I want to be alone. I’d be mobbed if I did not.”

At heart Leslie was distinctly glad to see her caller. She had her part to play on the stage of deceit, however.

“I suppose the Sans are running in and out of your room a good deal,” Elizabeth returned enviously. “I wish I could live here. It makes me so cross when I think of that Miss Dean and those girls living here and I can’t get in. There will be a lot of girls graduated from here in June. I think I can make it next fall. What’s the use, though. You’ll be gone. It is on your account I’d like to be here. I think more of you, Leslie, than of all the rest of the girls put together.” Elizabeth simulated wistful regret. She had tried out that particular expression before the mirror until she had perfected it. It was useful on so many occasions.

“Do you truly think as much of me as you say, Bess, or are you simply talking to hear yourself talk?” Leslie carried out admirably a pretense of sudden earnestness.

“Why, of course, I care a lot about you, Leslie.” Elizabeth adopted a slightly grieved tone. “Think of how much you have done for me.”

“Oh, that’s all right.” Leslie dismissed the reminder with a wave of the hand. “I have a reason for asking you that question. I have one or two other questions to ask you, too. If you are my friend, and wish to continue to be my friend, you will answer them.”

“I certainly will, if I can,” was the glib promise.

“You can,” Leslie curtly assured. “First, who told you about my having received a summons to Matthews’ office on account of that accident to Langly last fall?”

“How do you know – ” began the sophomore, then bit her lip.

“I know. There isn’t much goes on on the campus that I don’t know.” This with intent to intimidate. “I know who told you, for that matter.”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell. Still, if you say you know who it was, I believe you do.” Elizabeth hastily conceded, remembering her own interests. “You won’t let on that I told you?”

Leslie shook her head. “Trust me to be discreet,” she said.

“It was Dulcie Vale,” came the treacherous answer.

“I knew it.” Leslie brought one hand sharply down against the other. “What else has Dulcie told you?”

“About what?” counter-questioned the sophomore.

“That’s what I am asking you.” Leslie leaned forward in her chair, steady eyes on her vis-a-vis.

Elizabeth experienced inward trepidation. Dulcie had told her a great many things which she had promptly repeated to friends of hers under promise of secrecy. Suppose Leslie had traced some bit of gossip to her. She had heard that Leslie could pretend affability when she was the angriest. She might be only using Dulcie as a blind in order to extract a confession from her.

“I don’t quite understand you, Leslie,” she asserted, knitting her light brows. “Dulcie has talked to me a little about the Sans. I never mentioned a word she said to anyone else.”

“That’s not the point. I am not accusing you of talking too much. You made a remark the other day which I took as an assumption that you had been told about the summons. I knew Dulcie had told you. Dulcie has said things to others, too.”

“Oh, I know that.” Confidence returning, Elizabeth was quick to place the blame on the absent Dulcie.

“Yes; and so do I. It is very necessary that I should get to the bottom of her talk. Some say one thing about her, some another. I thought I could rely on you for the facts.”

“I don’t care to have any trouble with Dulcie over this,” deprecated Elizabeth.

“You won’t. Your name won’t be mentioned in it. All I need is the facts. You will be doing me a great favor. If there is anything I can do for you in return, let me know.” Leslie had donned her cloak of pseudo-sincerity.

“Oh, no; there is nothing.” Elizabeth slowly shook her head. “I – well, I wouldn’t want you to think I cared for a return.” Her manner plainly indicated that there was something Leslie might do for her if she chose.

“What is it you want?” Leslie exhibited marked impatience. “Favor for favor you know,” she added boldly. “I never mince matters.”

“I am crazy to play on the soph basket-ball team. Do you think you can fix it for me?”

“Surest thing ever. Leonard is peeved and has tossed up sports. Two of the Sans are on committee. Is that all you need?”

“Yes.” The wide babyish eyes registered a flash of gratification. “You are so kind, Leslie. Thank you a thousand times. I know you won’t fail me.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll fix it for you tomorrow. One bit of advice. Don’t play unless you are an expert.”

“I am. When I was at prep school – ”

“Never mind about that now. You go ahead and tell me what I asked you. It is almost six and Nat will be here soon.”

“Oh, will she?” The sophomore cast an apprehensive glance toward the door. “Is she a very good friend of Dulcie’s?”

“She’s a better friend of mine,” was the bored reply. Leslie was growing tired of being kept from what she burned to know. “Please don’t waste any more time, Bess. We can’t talk after Nat comes in. I don’t believe I’ll be able to see you again before Saturday. I’m awfully busy. I’ll lunch you at the Lotus then. We’ll use my roadster for the trip to town. What?”

Elated at having gleaned from Leslie a promise of benefit to herself and an invitation to luncheon, Elizabeth once more stipulated that her name should be left out of the revelation. Again reassured, she proceeded to regale Leslie with the confidences Dulcie had imparted to her at various times. She talked steadily for almost half an hour. Leslie gave her free rein, interrupting her but little.

“It’s even worse than I had thought,” Leslie declared grimly, when Elizabeth could recall nothing more to tell. “Bess, if you know when you are well off, you will never tell a soul what you have told me. Part of it isn’t true. Dulcie was romancing to you about that hazing affair. We talked about it for fun, but that was all. Why, we were all at the masquerade that night.”

“Dulcie wasn’t,” flatly contradicted the other. “She had a black eye. She said she was hurt at that house when – ”

“Dulcie bumped into the door of her room that night with her mask on,” interrupted Leslie angrily. “So she told us. If she was where she claims she was, certainly we were not with her. This isn’t the first foolish rumor of the kind she has started. It’s a good thing the rest of the girls don’t know this. They’d never forgive Dulcie for starting such yarns. As for that trouble she claims we had with Miss Remson. There was nothing to that, either. We have never exchanged a word with Remson on the subject. I don’t mind what she told you about the summons. The rest of her lies! Well, there is this much to it, Dulcie is due to hear from me and in short order.”

CHAPTER XIV – SANS’ MERCY

Despite Leslie’s denials, Elizabeth left her room only half convinced. Being as lost to honor as Leslie, she was also as shrewd. She made a vow to keep her own counsel thereafter. She knew herself to be as guilty as Dulcie. She hoped Leslie would never discover that. Leslie had promised that her name should not be mentioned in the matter. If brought to book by Leslie, Dulcie could not accuse her of circulating the stories intrusted to her without incriminating herself. Elizabeth felt quite safe on that score.

For two or three days after her call upon Leslie, she kept out of Dulcie’s way for fear the latter had been taken to task for her treachery and might suspect her as being instrumental in having brought it about. On Friday, however, she met Dulcie in the library. Dulcie invited her to dinner at the Colonial and she went without a tremor of conscience. The former was not in a gossiping humor that day. She was doing badly in all her subjects and worried in consequence.

Elizabeth went calmly to luncheon at the Lotus with Leslie on Saturday, pluming herself in that she was on excellent terms with both factions. She reported to Leslie her meeting with Dulcie on Friday, saying lamely that Dulcie never gossiped a bit about the Sans. “She hadn’t better,” Leslie had returned vengefully. “She has done mischief enough already.” When Elizabeth had ventured to inquire when Dulcie was to be “called down,” Leslie had said, “When I get ready to do it. I’m not ready yet.”

Natalie and Joan Myers had been informed by Leslie of Dulcie’s treachery. The trio had then set to work to discover how much damage she had done; something not easy to determine. Natalie and Joan demanded that she should be dropped from the club. They were sure the others would be of the same mind. Even Eleanor Ray, her former chum, was on the outs with Dulcie. There would be no objection to the penalty from Eleanor. Leslie’s plan was to gather the evidence against Dulcie, place it before the Sans, minus the culprit, at a private meeting, and let them decide her fate. In spite of Leslie Cairns’ unscrupulous disposition, she had a queer sense of justice which occasionally stirred within her. Thus she was bent on being sure of her ground before accusing Dulcie to her face.

After a week had passed and the three had learned nothing new regarding the circulation of their misdeeds about the campus, Leslie called a meeting of the club in her room while Dulcie was absent from the Hall. Indignation ran high at the revelation. The verdict was, “Drop her from the club.” Notwithstanding the possibility pointed out by Leslie that she might turn on them and betray them to headquarters, her associates were keen for dropping her.

“What harm can she do us?” argued Margaret Wayne. “She can’t give us away to Doctor Matthews without cooking her own goose. That’s our only danger from her. It’s our word against hers. Any stories she has told on the campus will never go further than among the students. It is too bad! Dulcie should have known better than to be so utterly treacherous. She deserves to be dropped. We could never trust her again.”