The Girls of Central High: or, Rivals for All Honors

CHAPTER VI – FALSE EVIDENCE

If there was anything of importance to be threshed out for the general welfare of the school, Franklin Sharp, principal of Central High, took the topic up at the Morning Assembly. The general standing and deportment of the scholastic body as a whole, rules of conduct laid down by the faculty, or news of importance to the scholars, both male and female, were there detailed.

At 8:25 o’clock the pupils were expected to be in the various class rooms. At 8:30 the gongs called the marching hosts to the great hall at the top of the building. The boys filed in on one side, the girls on the other. Many of the classes throughout the school were mixed classes; but naturally in certain studies the girls and boys were divided, especially the Junior and Senior years.

The High School course consisted of four years of study. Laura Belding and most of her friends were Sophomores. Therefore they could join in all the advanced athletics proposed by the Girls’ Branch Athletic Association.

Mr. Sharp was a tall, scholarly looking man; but his seriousness of countenance was belied somewhat by eyes that twinkled cordially behind his spectacles. He had a quick apprehension of character. He understood boys thoroughly – and most of his male pupils liked Mr. Sharp. But he gave over a deal of the management of the girls to his female assistants – especially to Miss Carrington.

The latter was unquestionably an able woman; she knew the science of teaching and her marks in teachers’ examinations were always the highest of any teacher in the Centerport schools. But her outlook upon life was awfully serious! Mr. Sharp could have endured better an assistant with a character more lenient to the failings and weaknesses of humanity.

Of course, however, the fire on Saturday could by no means be condoned. In the first place it had come about through a flagrant piece of impudence upon the part of a pupil. The pupils expected to hear from Mr. Sharp about the fire, and they were not disappointed.

“I am compelled to call the attention of the classes to an accident which occurred downstairs in my office on Saturday,” he began. “When we are good-natured enough to allow the school property, entrusted to our care, to be used for purposes aside from the regular class work, we have a right to expect those pupils enjoying the privilege to be more than usually careful of such property.

“I mean this for the attention of the boys as well as the girls,” he continued. “The girls, however, are at fault in this instance. It was their meeting that was held in the music room, and they had entrance to my office. Now a new rug is to be bought and my desk repaired, to say nothing of the purchase of four goldfish – four, I believe, is the number.

“Fire is a dangerous element to play with. I understand that the accident arose out of a so-called joke that one of our brilliant young ladies evolved – and evolved particularly for the disturbance of her teacher. That was not a nice or lady-like thing to do. I believe the culprit understands that fully now.

“But there is always a greater danger than the commission of such an act. That is the denying of the act after it is committed. I hope you all understand that. The old saw of ‘A fault confessed is half redressed’ has no ‘bromide’ qualities. It is a fundamental truth. Honesty above everything – that should be the motto of us all.

“To deny a fault committed, in short, makes the fault a double one. I think I have said enough upon this topic. The faculty will, of course, judge the guilty young woman in this instance as leniently as possible; but we must be just as well as merciful. You are excused to your classes.”

Not until the forenoon recess did the sophs, who were Bobby Hargrew’s closest friends, have an opportunity of commiserating with her. She had regained her composure by that time, however, and showed a plucky front.

“He intimated that I was untruthful,” Bobby said, angrily. “It isn’t fair. There is no evidence against me but – ”

“But the evidence of the fire itself, Bobby,” Nellie Agnew observed, quietly.

“I realize that. It is a mystery. I was last in the office – I was there alone, too. But I know what I did with that piece of punk, and I was not near the basket at any time.”

“Don’t lose your temper,” advised Laura Belding. “That will not help you.”

“It’s all right for you girls to talk,” said Bobby, sadly. “But Mr. Sharp has left it to Gee Gee, and she believes I would tell a story about it.”

“Have patience – and hope for the best,” said Laura. “The truth will surely come out in the end.”

“But when will the end be?” demanded Bobby. “Oh! I think it is too mean for anything!”

“It doesn’t pay to get Gee Gee down on you,” said Jess. “I’m going to be very careful myself.”

“And we’ll all have to be careful if we expect to join in these after-school athletics. Gee Gee doesn’t fancy the new association, anyway,” said one of the Lockwood twins.

“I’m not so awfully eager myself to belong,” said Jess. “We’ve got to wear those ugly suits – ”

“And no furbelows,” laughed Laura. “Oh, Jess, we all know your failing. Who is more devoted to the fashion magazines and the powder-puff than Josephine Morse?”

“It is the duty of every girl to look her very best at all times,” declared Jess, confidently. “My mother says so.”

“And that’s what makes the boys laugh at us,” remarked the other twin – no use saying which one, for nobody knew Dora and Dorothy apart. Gee Gee had long since put them on their honor not to recite for each other!

It was at noon that Miss Carrington called Clara Hargrew to her desk.

“Now, Miss Hargrew, I expect you to tell me the truth about this matter,” the teacher said, very sternly.

“I never in my life told you an untruth, ma’am!” exclaimed the girl.

“I have always believed you truthful,” admitted the teacher. “But this is a ridiculous claim you make – ”

“I did carry that piece of punk out and throw it in the gutter.”

“Did you look for it there?” asked Miss Carrington, quickly.

“Yes. I looked yesterday morning, even if it was Sunday. But the street men had flushed out the gutters before I arrived.”

“That is curious, Miss Hargrew,” said the teacher, doubtfully.

“It is the truth. I did not set the fire – ”

“Then how did it start?”

“I know no more about it than you do, ma’am.”

“Ahem! But you threw something into the basket?”

“I did not. I did not go near the basket.”

“You are determined to stick to that, are you, Miss?” asked the teacher, sharply.

“I am determined to tell you nothing but the truth.”

“Wait!” commanded the teacher. Then she turned and sent one of the lingering girls at the door of the classroom for Hester Grimes. When Hester came she looked somewhat troubled, but she did not glance at Bobby.

“Miss Grimes,” said the teacher, “I have called you to repeat what you said to me before. You must say it before Miss Hargrew.”

“I – I don’t want to get Clara into any trouble,” muttered the red-faced girl.

Bobby looked at her in surprise. “How long since, Hessie?” she demanded. “You never were too tender of me before.”

“Be still!” commanded Miss Carrington, angrily. “Miss Grimes!”

“Well, I was the last to leave the office, and I saw Clara throw something into the wastebasket.”

“Oo-h!” exclaimed the culprit.

“Yes, I did!” ejaculated Hester.

“You need not be so vociferous, Miss Grimes,” said Miss Carrington, tartly. “You see, Clara, we have other evidence than the fire.”

“Do you mean to say you saw me throw that burning punk into the basket?” cried Bobby, with flaming face and sparkling eyes.

“Well, you threw something into it,” replied Hester, weakly.

“That is made up out of whole cloth,” began Bobby, but Miss Carrington stopped her.

“That will do! Not another word. I shall take the matter up with Mr. Sharp. You are unmanageable and – I fear – untruthful. Go to your seat. What the outcome of this will be I cannot tell you now; but of one thing I am sure, Miss Hargrew – you can expect no favors from the faculty of the school after this date.”

CHAPTER VII – THE COMMITTEE ON ORGANIZATION

After school that day the committee appointed to organize the Girls’ Branch Athletic Association of Central High met in one of the offices. There were fifteen of the girls, and they were all present. Mrs. Case had seen to it that the natural leaders of the various classes among Seniors, Juniors and Sophomores were appointed to membership in this committee.

There were six Seniors, five Juniors and four Sophomores – the latter being Laura and Jess and Hester Grimes and her chum, Lily Pendleton. Although Laura was at least three years younger than the oldest Senior, she was popular and was elected chairman of the committee on a single ballot. Besides, the other girls knew that Laura was an enthusiast in athletic matters and that she had studied the question of organization thoroughly.

“Mrs. Case gave each of us a booklet relating to the formation of associations of this character,” said Laura, when the meeting was called to order. “I suppose you have all studied the little book. It gives us a draft of the proper constitution and by-laws, and information on all points likely to come before us. You all understand it, don’t you?”

“My goodness!” exclaimed Lily, yawning. “I haven’t even looked into mine.”

“I’ve looked into it, and I see that the teachers have a lot to do with the thing,” said Hester Grimes. “I don’t like such interference, and right at the start I move we disregard the book and form our own society in our own way.”

“Why, we can’t do that!” cried Celia Prime, one of the Seniors. “There would be no association then.”

“I don’t see why not,” drawled Lily. “I think Hessie’s plan is just grand!”

“It’s a grand way to go about not having athletics at all,” said Mary O’Rourke, another Senior, laughing. “We can’t do business that way, girls.”

“Nor would it be wise if we could,” Laura said, quickly. “Listen! This is the rule that we have got to comply with if we are going to form a Girls’ Branch: Any girl to be eligible for membership, or to take part in athletic events for trophies and pins, must have a physician’s certificate of physical fitness, and the personal approval of Mrs. Case.”

“A doctor’s certificate!” exclaimed Hester, with scorn. “What for?”

“A girl with a weak heart, for instance, will not be allowed to take part in the games and events. You know that. Mrs. Case is dreadfully particular about it.”

“And a good thing,” said one of the juniors. “I knew of a girl who jumped rope so long that she dropped dead. It was awful.”

“Well, who wants to jump rope?” snapped Hester.

“I do,” admitted Jess, laughing. “It’s fun. And Mrs. Case says it is good exercise under careful conditions.”

“I want to learn to dance,” said Lily. “And dancing is going to be part of the athletic exercises, isn’t it?”

“Folk dancing,” said Miss Prime. “And very pretty some of those old-world dances are. No one-steps or glides, Miss!” and she laughed shortly.

“Well, we must make up our minds to follow the rules in the little book,” Laura interposed. “You know, every girl must be approved by the principal of the school as being in good standing both in deportment and scholarship, including the usual work in physical training, or she can’t belong.”

“That’s going to cut out your friend Hargrew, I guess,” laughed Lily.

“And we know who are doing their best to put Bobby out of the games,” snapped Jess, looking angrily at Hester and her chum.

“Order!” exclaimed Laura, bringing down the gavel with a smack on the desk. “No time for anything but business. Here is another thing, girls: No girl who takes part in athletic competitions outside the school under the auspices of any organization other than our Girls’ Branch, can take part in events by the school. If you take part, too, in any sports unsanctioned by our rules, you can be expelled.”

“There! I don’t like that a bit,” flared up Hester again. “I belong to St. Cecelia’s Gymnasium Club. I am not going to give up my church club for this public school association.”

“That’s foolish,” remarked Mary O’Rourke. “I belong to a ladies’ gymnastic class connected with my church, too; but I know that when we get going in the High School it will be lots more fun to belong to this association than the church club.”

Other matters were talked over, as well; but the opinion of the majority was for bringing in a report recommending the new association to follow exactly the line of organization of other Girls’ Branches in other cities. Hester and Lily said they should offer a minority report; but the others only laughed at that.

“You know that’s ridiculous, Hester,” said Mary O’Rourke. “We have to do something besides merely report a form of organization. If we girls – and those who follow us at Central High for years to come – are going to have successful after-hour athletics, we must have equipment – and a field. Just think of that, please. It is going to cost money – a heap of money! – before we get through. And who is going to supply the money? If we go against the opinions and desires of those who are helping us we can’t expect them to supply funds.”

“Oh, I guess my father will give as much as anybody,” said Hester, tossing her head. Henry Grimes was a wholesale butcher and was accounted a very wealthy man in Centerport. He was a member of the Board of Aldermen and wielded much political influence.

“I suppose we must interest more than our parents in the plan,” said Laura, thoughtfully. “From what I read in that little book, some of the girls’ athletic fields in the big cities have cost upwards of a hundred thousand dollars to build and equip. Of course, that includes a clubhouse, and swimming pool, and all that.”

“A nice time we’d have trying to get anything like that in Centerport,” sneered Hester.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” spoke up Celia Prime. “We have some very wealthy people here.”

“Just think what Colonel Richard Swayne might do with some of his money – if he wanted to,” said Laura.

“My father says that of course the burden will come upon the parents who are well-to-do. It’s always the way,” said Hester. “The rich have to do for the poor.”

This was a tactless speech, to say the least, for Mary O’Rourke’s father was merely a day laborer, and several of the other girls on the committee were from poor families.

“I expect that the money part of it will not be within our jurisdiction,” said Miss Prime, sharply.

“No, we haven’t got to worry about that,” laughed Laura.

“That’s all very well,” said Hester. “But my father will be called upon to give more than yours, Laura. He always is.”

“He is better able to give, perhaps,” returned Laura, coolly.

“There will have to be some large donor, if we are to have a real, up-to-date athletic field,” sighed Celia. “The boys have a good baseball and football park. The railroad company gave the land, and public subscription put it in shape. But we have just got to interest some rich person in our project.”

“Colonel Swayne, for instance?” laughed Mary.

“Well, why not?” demanded Laura, suddenly.

“Why, he just hates boys and girls!” cried her chum.

“So they say.”

“You know he won’t allow one of us to step on his grounds – and it’s right next to our bathing place, too,” said Jess, with a considerable show of feeling.

“He doesn’t seem to love a soul but that married daughter of his – you know, the widow. She’s a peculiar acting woman. I don’t believe she’s quite right,” said Miss Prime. “And he certainly is wrapped up in her.”

“And with all that money – and his beautiful estate,” sighed Laura. “He really ought to be interested in girls’ athletics.”

The others laughed. “We’ll appoint Miss Belding a committee of one to try and separate Colonel Swayne from some of his wealth,” said Mary O’Rourke.

“I accept!” declared Laura, suddenly, with flashing eyes. “I believe it can be done.”

“Huh! you think you’re so smart, Laura,” drawled Lily Pendleton.

“But it would be just great if we could get him interested,” sighed Jess.

“Leave it to me,” said Laura, boldly. “I’m going to try!”

CHAPTER VIII – LAURA AND THE PRINCIPAL

It was two days later, during which time the two principal topics of conversation among the girls of Central High had been athletics and Bobby Hargrew’s trouble. All sorts of rumors sped from lip to lip regarding Bobby’s fate. They had her dismissed, or suspended, a dozen times, and reinstated again. But the only thing that was really known about it was that Gee Gee had “taken up” with Mr. Sharp.

The girls had a great deal of faith in Mr. Sharp’s sense of justice. He was a man who made up his mind leisurely, although once it was made up he was not known to change it for any light reason. The girls liked him very much indeed; but of course there were times when the principal, as well as the rest of the teachers, was arraigned against the pupils upon some topic. That will always be so as long as there are pupils and teachers!

In the case of Bobby, some of the girls – especially those of her own age and class, and more especially some who looked up to the harum-scarum Hargrew girl as a leader in mischief – angrily upheld the culprit’s side of the controversy, and declared that Gee Gee had no business to accuse her of setting the fire at all. Bobby’s saying she didn’t do it was enough!

The Central High students – girls and boys alike – were governed on honor. A student’s word was supposed to be taken without his or her going before a notary public and “swearing” to the truth of the statement. That was Mr. Sharp’s own statement. So, why make a divergence from the accepted rule in poor Bobby’s case? Why not believe her when she said she did not throw the burning punk into the wastepaper basket?

Upon the score of Hester Grimes’s testimony against the accused girl there was division, too. Some of Hester’s classmates were for ostracizing her entirely – “sending her to Coventry.” She was a “tattle-tale” – and some of the girls were quite warm over her case.

But they all knew Hester. She had a certain popularity among some of the girls because of her father’s wealth, and the lavish way in which Hester entertained those girls whom she wished to favor. Money will always bring a certain kind of subservience. Although the general opinion was adverse to Hester, nothing was really done about it.

Laura and Jess, with Chet and his chum, Lance Darby, were sitting on the Beldings’ porch, for it was a warm evening.

“Something ought to be done to that Grimes girl,” drawled Chet, reflectively. “She’s always doing something mean.”

“That’s the worst of you girls,” said Lance, with a superior air. “If one of you gets into trouble, the others either stand off or pick on her.”

“Isn’t that so?” cried Chet. “I saw Bobby walking home from school this afternoon all alone.”

“You bet if she’d been a boy,” said Lance, importantly, “there’d been a crowd of fellows with her.”

“Is that so?” flared up Jess. “Don’t you ever fight, you boys? And do you always stand by one another when one gets into trouble? How about what you did to Pretty Sweet last Saturday? Oh! I heard about it.”

Lance and Chet broke into loud laughter. Laura said, hurriedly:

“Stop! here he comes now. And I believe he is coming here.”

In the twilight they saw a rather tall boy, dressed in the height of fashion, with brightly polished shoes and an enormously high collar, coming down Whiffle Street.

“Won’t you come in, Purt?” called Laura, as this youth reached the gate.

Prettyman Sweet hesitated just a moment. Indeed, his hand was really on the gate before he saw the two boys – his classmates – sitting beside the girls on the porch.

“Oh-oo, no! I am afraid I can’t this evening, Miss Laura,” he said, in a high, “lady-like” voice. “Thank you so much! Good-evening,” and he hurried away.

“See how he walks?” chuckled Darby.

“You needn’t have asked him in to sit down, Laura,” said her brother. “He can’t sit down.”

“Takes his meals off the mantelpiece, I understand,” pursued Lance.

“Hasn’t been to school this week. His mother sent a note to Dimple. Pretty is all broken up.”

“Do tell us all about it, boys!” urged Jess, laughing, too, now. “I heard that he had some unfortunate accident up at the railroad fill Saturday. What was it – really?”

The two boys exploded with laughter again, but finally Chet said:

“Some of us fellows were up there at the fill watching that big ‘sand-hog’ at work – the new steam shovel, you know; and Pretty Sweet was along. However he came to walk clear over there in those toothpick shoes of his, I don’t know. But he was there.

“On the old ‘dump’ where the city ashes used to be deposited, one of the boys – Short and Long, I think it was, eh, Lance?”

“It was Billy,” said his chum, decidedly.

“I bet Billy was in it – if it meant mischief,” laughed Laura.

“Oh, the kid was innocent enough,” Chet declared. “He saw something shining on the ground and pointed it out. It really looked just like a lump of gold – didn’t it, Lance?”

“Something like. I didn’t know what it was.”

“Two or three of us handled it. But it took Pretty Sweet to turn the trick all proper. He slipped it in his hip pocket. You know, Pretty is just as stingy as he can be – a regular miser despite all his fine clothes. I expect he believed that shiny lump might be worth something. Maybe he was going to bring it down to father, to see if was sure enough gold,” laughed Chet.

“But what was it? What happened?” cried Jess.

“Why, nothing happened at first. Then, when we were half way back to town, somebody saw smoke spurting out behind Pretty Sweet as though he was an automobile. We yelled and went for him, rolled him in the street – ”

“In all those good clothes!” interposed Lance between bursts of laughter.

“And we put the fire out. For he really was afire,” said Chet, when he got his voice again. “And he was burned some – so he said. He declared one of the fellows had played a trick on him – set him afire, you know.

“So he got mad,” continued Chet, “and went off by himself. But going through Laurel Street he burst into flames again, so to speak, and if it hadn’t been that he was right near the fire station, I guess we’d have had a bigger conflagration at that end of the town than there was in Mr. Sharp’s office.”

“But I don’t understand!” cried Laura, puzzled.

“Neither did the fireman, who turned a chemical extinguisher on Pretty Sweet and messed him all up again. It was a serious matter to Pretty, I tell you. For this time the tails of his coat were burned off, as well as a portion of his nether garments. Why, he wasn’t fit to be seen!” roared Chet. “The firemen were for sending him home in a barrel; but Pretty wouldn’t have it. He sent for a cab and paid a dollar to get home.”

“But what made the fire? What did you boys do to him?” cried Jess.

“Nothing at all. We never touched him,” declared Lance Darby. “But when we told Professor Dimp, on Monday, when he inquired about the absence of Sweet, he seemed to suspect what had caused the fire. And he laughed, too.”

“Do tell us what it was?” cried Laura.

“Why, it must have been a piece of phosphorus he picked up and put in his pocket. Dimple says it is very active chemically, and when united with oxygen, even at an ordinary temperature, emits a faint glow as if it were gold. It got in its fine work on Pretty Sweet, however, and they say he’s got a blister on him as big as your hat!” concluded Chet.

The girls could not fail to be amused at this ridiculous adventure of the school exquisite. No other boy of their acquaintance was so dudish or comic in dress and manner.

“You know what Bobby did to Purt at Hester Grimes’s party last winter, don’t you?” said Jess, recovering from her paroxysm of laughter.

“The first time he wore his tall hat, you mean?” demanded Chet.

“Yes.”

“I know he had to have the hat blocked again after one wearing,” said Lance. “But we fellows weren’t in on that joke.”

“And not many but Bobby knew about it. You see, that tall hat – think of a stovepipe hat on a boy of seventeen! – made Purt the tallest person at the party. Bobby is cute, now I tell you,” Jess giggled. “She measured his height with the hat on his head and then went out to the gate and hung a flour bag of sand between the tall gateposts. She hung it so as to clear everybody else’s head, you see; and it was dark there by the gate.

“Out comes Purt, beauing Celia Prime home. The bag was on his side of the path and he got it good, now I tell you!”

“I know he got his new hat smashed,” agreed Lance.

“Great scheme,” chuckled Chet.

“But it was dangerous,” said Laura. “That sandbag was heavy. If any taller person had been coming in, or going out, rapidly, a crack on the crown from that bag would have done him harm.”

“All right, little Miss Fidget,” growled her brother. “But you see, it didn’t do any harm.”

“Only to Pretty’s hat,” laughed Lance. “But the question is, did Bobby set the fire?”

“Of course not!” declared Jess, promptly.

“If she did, she’s getting to be a regular little firebug,” said Chet. “Did you hear about what happened at her father’s store Saturday?”

“No,” said Jess. “What was it? Not another fire?”

“Yes, another fire,” returned Chet, and he went on to repeat the story of the burning-glass, and how Laura had beaten the fire department in putting the blaze out.

“My, Laura! that was a smart idea,” declared Lance, with admiration.

“Isn’t that the greatest ever?” added Jess.

“And Bobby had less to do with setting the fire in Mr. Sharp’s office than she had with starting that one in the store,” said Laura, thoughtfully.

“I hope so,” Lance said.

“I know so! Bobby is strictly truthful.”

“But she can’t prove it,” said Chet, argumentatively.

“She ought not to have to prove it,” declared Laura, with heat. “Her say-so should be enough for Mr. Sharp. I’ve a mind to – ”

“You’ve a mind to what?” asked Jess, pinching her arm.

“Never you mind,” returned Laura, suddenly becoming uncommunicative. “I’ve a scheme.”

“One of Laura’s brilliant ideas,” scoffed Chet, with brotherly scorn. “We’ll hear about it later.”

Which was true enough, for none of them heard about it that evening. But the very next morning Laura got to school early and went to Mr. Sharp’s office. The principal chanced to be disengaged, and welcomed her kindly. Besides, Mr. Sharp, like the other teachers, was fond of Laura Belding. Without being a “toady” – that creature so hateful to the normal young person – Laura was very good friends with all the instructors.

“Mr. Sharp,” said the girl, boldly, “one of my classmates is in trouble – serious trouble. You know whom I mean – Miss Hargrew.”

Mr. Sharp nodded thoughtfully.

“I want you to be just as kind to her as you can, sir,” went on Laura. “She is a good girl, if she is mischievous. She never would do such a wicked thing as to set that fire – ”

“Not intentionally, I grant you, Miss Belding,” he returned.

“No. Nor did she do it involuntarily. When she said she took the burning piece of punk out of the building, she did so.”

“How do you know?” he asked, quickly.

“I know it,” said Laura, calmly, “because she tells me so. Bobby – I mean, Clara – could not tell a lie. It is not in her to be false or deceitful. That – that is why she is not liked in some quarters.”

“You mean, that is why she is doubted?” said the principal, gravely. “Her careless course in school could not fail to gain her a bad character with the instructors.”

“I presume that is so, sir,” admitted Laura, slowly.

“It is so. You cannot blame the teachers if they are harsh with her. She has made herself a nuisance,” said the principal, yet smiling.

“She has never done a really mean thing – ”

“It is mean to trouble the teachers,” said the principal, quickly. “You must admit that, Miss Belding. They are here to instruct and help you students. They should not be made the butt of foolish jokes.”

“I suppose that is true, sir. Bobby has been guilty there. But she would never tell an untruth.”

“You seem very sure of your school friend, Miss Belding?” he questioned, thoughtfully.

“As sure of her truthfulness as I am of my own, sir,” declared Laura, firmly.

Mr. Sharp looked at her for a few moments, tapping the edge of his desk thoughtfully meanwhile. Finally he said:

“Miss Belding, you almost succeed in convincing me against my better judgment. I believe you are wrong, however. I believe Miss Hargrew, frightened by the enormity of her careless act, has slipped in the path of truth for once. But, wait!” he added, holding up his hand. “You may be right; I may be wrong. I am willing, upon your representation, to give the girl another chance. I will wait. Let time pass. If there is another explanation of the fire – if there can be such a mystery – we will give it time to come to light.”

“Oh, Mr. Sharp! You will not suspend her, then?” cried Laura.

“She is very near expulsion, not suspension,” said the principal, gravely. “But I promise you to do nothing until the end of the year. If the mystery is not explained before she finishes her sophomore year, however, I do not believe we can let her go into the Junior class. That is final, Miss Belding.

“Nor can the culprit go scot-free now. None of the good times for her. She must bear herself well in deportment, too. None of the after-hour athletics for her, Miss Belding. And she will have to walk very circumspectly to retain her place in the school.”

Laura went away from the principal’s office, after thanking him warmly, in a much worried state of mind. They needed Bobby Hargrew in the proposed athletics. Part of the girls of Central High were very much interested in rowing. There was a good crew of eight in the sophomore class, and they had practiced in one of the boys’ boats already. And for that eight, Bobby Hargrew was slated to be coxswain.