[Illustration: Cover art]

[Frontispiece: "IT'S A BEAUTIFUL OLD PLACE, HELEN, " SIGHED RUTH. ]

Ruth Fielding

at Briarwood Hall

OR

Solving the Campus Mystery

BY

ALICE B. EMERSON

 AUTHOR OF "RUTH FIELDING OF THE RED MILL, " "RUTH FIELDING AT LIGHTHOUSE POINT, " ETC. 

_ILLUSTRATED_

NEW YORK

CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

PUBLISHERS

Books for Girls

BY ALICE B. EMERSON

RUTH FIELDING SERIES

l2mo Cloth. Illustrated. 

RUTH FIELDING OF THE RED MILL Or, Jasper Parloe's Secret. 

RUTH FIELDING AT BRIARWOOD HALL Or, Solving the Campus Mystery. 

RUTH FIELDING AT SNOW LODGE Or, Lost in the Backwoods. 

RUTH FIELDING AT LIGHTHOUSE POINT Or, Nita, the Girl Castaway. 

RUTH FIELDING AT SILVER RANCH Or, Schoolgirls Among the Cowboys. 

CUPPLES & LEON Co. , PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK. 

COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY

CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

RUTH FIELDING AT BRIARWOOD HALL

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I. THE EXODUS II. THE MAN WITH THE HARP III. APPROACHING THE PROMISED LAND IV. THE RIVALRY OF THE UPEDES AND THE FUSSY CURLS V. THE DUET VI. THE ENTERING WEDGE VII. THE UPEDES VIII. THE MARBLE HARP IX. THE GHOSTLY TRIBUNAL X. SOMETHING MORE THAN GHOSTS XI. THE VOICE OF THE HARP XII. THE MYSTERY DEEPENS XIII. BEGINNINGS XIV. THE SWEETBRIARS XV. THE NIGHT OF HARPOCRATES XVI. THE HAWK AMONG THE CHICKENS XVII. GOODY TWO-STICKS XVIII. THE MYSTERY AGAIN XIX. THE TRIUMVIRATE XX. AT TRITON LAKE XXI. ON THE ICE XXII. THE HARPIST ONCE MORE XXIII. THE SECRET XXIV. WHO IS THE "TATTLE-TALE?" XXV. GETTING ON

RUTH FIELDING AT BRIARWOOD HALL

CHAPTER I

THE EXODUS

The sun was a regular lie-abed on this Autumn morning, banked about bysoft clouds and draperies of mist; but they glowed pink along thehorizon--perhaps blushing for Old Sol's delinquency. The mist hungtenderly over the river, too--indeed, it masked the entire Valley ofthe Lumano--lying thick and dank upon the marshes and the low meadows, but wreathed more lightly about the farmhouses and their outbuildings, and the fodder and haystacks upon the higher ground. 

But suddenly the sun flung off the bedclothes and leaped right into thesky. That long, low bank of cloud that had been masking him, meltedaway and the shreds of mist were burned up in a hurry as his warm raysspread abroad, taking the entire valley in their arms. 

Farmhouses, where the kitchen chimney smoke had been rising straightlyinto the air, immediately put on a new bustle. Doors opened and shut. There was the stamping of horses in the stables as they crunched theircorn; cows lowed as the milk-pails rattled; sheep baa-a-ed in theirfolds, and the swine, fearing that some other of the farm stock wouldget _their_ share of the breakfast, squealed in eager anticipation. 

On a knoll by the river side stood the rambling buildings belonging toJabez Potter, who kept the Red Mill. The great wheel beside the millend of the main structure had not yet begun to turn, but there wasplenty of bustle about the pleasant house. 

The sun had scarcely popped up when a very pretty, bright-looking girlran out upon the porch and gazed earnestly along the road that followedthe Lumano toward Osago Lake. She looked out from under a shieldinghand, for the sun was in her eyes. Around the corner of the house camea tall, dark-faced man whose long jaws were cleanly shaven and deeplylined. His clothing was full of milldust and it seemed to have beenground into his face for so many years that it was now a part of thegrain and texture of his skin. He did not smile at the girl as he said:

"You ain't looking for them yet; air you, Ruth? It's much too early. Help your Aunt Alviry put breakfast on the table. She'll hev it all todo when you're gone. "

The tone was stern, but the girl seemed to be used to it, for her facedid not cloud over, and the smiles rippled about her mouth as shereplied:

"I'm so full of happiness, Uncle Jabez, that you mustn't mind if I'mlooking for Helen and Tom ahead of time. It doesn't seem possible thatI am actually going with them. "

"It seems real enough to me, " grumbled Jabez Potter. "I hope you'llget enough out of it to pay us for all the trouble and cost of yourgoing--that I do. "

But even this seemingly unkind speech did not ruffle the girl's temper. 

"You wait and see, Uncle Jabez--you just wait and see, " she said, nodding to him. "I'll prove it the best investment you ever made. "

He didn't smile--Jabez Potter was not one of the smiling kind; but hisface relaxed and his eyes twinkled a little. 

"I sha'n't look for cent. Per cent. Interest on my money, Niece Ruth, "he said, and stumped into the house in his heavy boots. 

Ruth Fielding, who had come to the Red Mill only a few months before, having lost all other relatives but her great-uncle, who owned themill, ran into the kitchen, too, where a little old woman, with bentback and very bright eyes, was hovering over the stove. The breakfastwas ready to be served and this little woman was pottering about, muttering to herself a continual complaining phrase:

"Oh, my back and oh, my bones!"

Aunt Alvirah Boggs (who was everybody's Aunt Alvirah, but no bloodrelation to either Ruth or her uncle) was not a morose person, however, despite her rheumatic troubles. She smiled on Ruth and patted her handas the girl sat down beside her at the table. 

"Seems like we'd be lost without our pretty leetle creetur about, " saidAunt Alvirah. "I don't see what the old house will do without her. "

"I'll be home at Thanksgiving--if Uncle will let me, " said Ruth, quickly, and glancing at the old man; "and again at Christmas, and atEaster. Why, the intervals will go like _that_, " and she snapped herfingers. 

"All this junketing up and down the country will cost money, NieceRuth, " admonished Uncle Jabez. 

He was, by nature, a very close and careful man with money--a reputedmiser, in fact. And that he did hoard up money, and loved it foritself, must be confessed. When he had lost a cash-box he kept in themill, containing money and other valuables, it had been a great troubleto Uncle Jabez. But through a fortuitous train of circumstances RuthFielding had recovered the cash-box for him, with its contentsuntouched. It was really because he considered himself in her debt forthis act, and that he prided himself upon paying his debts, that JabezPotter had come to agree that Ruth should go away to school. 

He had not done the thing in a niggardly way, when once he gave hisconsent. Ruth's new trunk was at the Cheslow railroad station and init was an adequate supply of such frocks and necessities as a girl ofher age would need in the school to which she was bound. Her ticketwas bought, too, and in her purse was a crisp ten-dollar note--bothpurse and money being a special present from Uncle Jabez. 

Ruth had learned that the miller was by no means as grim as he looked, and she likewise knew that now he was kindly disposed toward her andreally was doing a great deal for her. She was determined to never beungrateful to Uncle Jabez for satisfying the greatest longing she hadever had--to go to Briarwood Hall, a boarding school. 

Suddenly a young man put his head in at the kitchen door, grinned, andsaid:

"They're a-comin', Miss Ruthie. I see 'em up the road. "

Ruth jumped up at once and ran for her coat and hat. 

"There, child!" cried Aunt Alvirah, "ye haven't eaten enough breakfastto keep a fly alive. Lucky I've got a good basket of lunch put up forye. It'll be a long journey--by train, boat, and stage coach. You'llbe hungry enough before ye git there---- Oh, my back and oh, mybones!" she added, as she hobbled to the dresser for the luncheon box. 

Ruth flashed back into the room and cried to the youth on the porch:

"Is the car really in sight, Ben?"

"It's almost here, Miss. "

Indeed, they could hear the purring of a motor-car coming up the riverroad. Ruth flung her arms about Uncle Jabez's neck, although he didnot rise from the table where he was methodically putting his breakfastaway as though nothing unusual was happening. 

"You've been a dear, good uncle to me, " she whispered, "and I love youfor it. I'll be careful of the money, and I'll get all the learning Ican for the money you pay out--now just you see if I don't!"

"I ain't sure that it'll do either of us much good, " grumbled UncleJabez, and he did not even follow her to the door as she ran out. 

But Aunt Alvirah hobbled after her, and pressed her close before shewould let the girl run down the walk. 

"Blessin's on ye, ye pretty creetur, " she crooned over Ruth. "I'llthink of ye ev'ry moment ye air away. This is your home, Ruthie; yeain't got nary 'nother--don't fergit that. And yer old A'nt Alviry'llbe waitin' for ye here, an' jest longin' for the time when ye comehome. "

Ruth kissed her again and again. Two excited young voices called toher from the automobile. 

"Come on! Come on, Ruth. Do come away!"

She kissed Aunt Alvirah once more, waved her hand to bashful Ben, whowas Uncle Jabez's man-of-all-work, and ran down to the waiting car. Inthe seat beside the chauffeur was a bright-looking, black-haired boy ina military uniform of blue, who seized her lunch basket and handbag andput them both in a safe place. In the tonneau was a plainly dressedlady and a brilliantly pretty girl perhaps a year older than Ruth. This young lady received the girl from the Red Mill rapturously whenshe sprang into the tonneau, and hugged her tightly as the car startedon. She was Ruth's dearest friend, Helen Cameron. It was her brotherTom in front, and the lady was Mrs. Murchiston, who had been thegoverness of the Cameron twins since their babyhood, and was now toremain in the great house--"Outlook"--Mr. Macy Cameron's home, ashousekeeper, while his son and daughter were away at school. 

For Tom was bound for Seven Oaks Military Academy, and that was onlyten miles, or so, this side of Lumberton, near which was situatedBriarwood Hall, the boarding school which was the girls' destination. Tom had attended Cheslow High School for a year; but Ruth and Helenwere about equally advanced in their studies and expected to be bothroommates and classmates at the Hall. 

Ruth stood up in the car as it rolled up the hill toward Cheslow andlooked back at the Red Mill. She fluttered her handkerchief as long asshe could see the little figure of Aunt Alvirah on the porch. UncleJabez came out and strode down the path to the mill. Then the car shotaround a curve in the road and the scene was blotted out. 

How much was to happen to her before she saw the Red Mill again!

CHAPTER II

THE MAN WHO PLAYED THE HARP

In the first volume of this series, entitled, "Ruth Fielding of the RedMill; Or, Jasper Parloe's Secret, " is related how Ruth and Helen andTom came to be such close friends. The Camerons had been with Ruthwhen the lost cash-box belonging to Uncle Jabez Potter was found, andout of which incident Ruth's presence in the Camerons' automobile onthis beautiful September morning, and the fact that she wasaccompanying Helen to school, arose. 

Mr. Macy Cameron, a wealthy dry-goods merchant, and a widower, hadselected the best school for his daughter to attend of which he couldlearn. Briarwood Hall, of which the preceptress was Mrs. GraceTellingham, was a large school (there being more than two hundredscholars in attendance for the coming term), but it remained "select"in the truest sense of the word. It was not an institutionparticularly for the daughters of wealthy people, nor a school to whichdisheartened parents could send either unruly girls, or dunces. 

Without Mrs. Murchiston's recommendation Helen Cameron could not havegained entrance to Briarwood; without the attested examination papersof Miss Cramp, teacher of the district school, who had prepared Ruthfor entering Cheslow High School before it was supposed that she couldgo to Briarwood, the girl from the Red Mill would not have beenstarting on this journey. 

"My goodness me!" exclaimed Helen, when Ruth had sat down and Cheslowwas coming into view before them. "I'm just as excited as I can be. Aren't you afraid of meeting Mrs. Tellingham? She's got an A. B. Afterher name. And her husband is a doctor of almost everything you canthink!"

Mrs. Murchiston smiled, but said with some sternness; "I really hope, Helen, that Briarwood will quell your too exuberant spirits to adegree. But you need not be afraid of Dr. Tellingham. He is themildest old gentleman one ever saw. He is doubtless engaged upon ahistory of the Mound Builders of Peoria County, Illinois; or upon apamphlet suggested by the finding of a fossilized man in the caves ofArizona. "

"Is he a great writer, Mrs. Murchiston?" asked Ruth, wonderingly. 

"He has written a great many histories--if that constitutes being agreat writer, " replied the governess, with a quiet smile. "But if itwas not for Mrs. Tellingham I fear that Briarwood Hall could not exist. However, the doctor is a perfectly harmless person. "

From this Ruth drew the conclusion (for she was a thoughtfulgirl--thoughtful beyond her years, as well as imaginative) that Mrs. Grace Tellingham was a rather strong-minded lady and that the doctorwould prove to be both mild and "hen-pecked. "

The car sped along the beautifully shaded road leading into Cheslow;but there was still ample time for the travelers to catch the train. On the right hand, as they advanced, appeared a gloomy-looking housewith huge pillars upholding the portico roof, which was set somedistance back from the road. On two posts, one either side of thearched gateway, were set green lanterns. A tall, stoop-shouldered oldgentleman, with a sweeping mustache and hair that touched his coatcollar, and a pair of keen, dark eyes, came striding down the walk tothe street as the motor-car drew near. 

"Doctor Davison!" cried Helen and Ruth together. 

The chauffeur slowed down and stopped as the doctor waved his hand. 

"I must bid you girls good-bye here, " he said, coming to the automobileto shake hands. "I have a call and cannot be at the station. And Iexpect all of you to do your best in your studies. But look out foryour health, too. Take plenty of gym work, girls. Tom, you rascal! Iwant to hear of you standing just as well in athletics as you do inyour books. Ah! if Mercy was going with you, I'd think the party quitecomplete. "

"What do you hear from her, Doctor?" questioned Ruth, eagerly. 

"My little Goody Two-sticks is hopping around pretty lively. She willcome home in a few days. Too bad she cannot see you before you go. But then--perhaps you'll see her, after all. "

"What do you mean?" demanded Helen, looking sharply at the physician. "You're hiding something. I can see it! You've got something up yoursleeve, Doctor!"

"Quite so--my wrist!" declared the physician, and now, having shakenhands all around, he hurried away, looking vastly mysterious. 

"Now, what do you suppose he meant by that?" demanded Helen. "I'msuspicious of him. He's always bringing unexpected things about. Andpoor Mercy Curtis----"

"If she could only go to Briarwood with us, " sighed Ruth. 

"She would make you and Helen hustle in your work, all right, " declaredTom, looking over the back of his seat. "She's the smartest littlething that I ever saw. "

"That's what Dr. Davison says, " Ruth observed. "If the surgeons haveenabled her to walk again, and dispense with the wheel chair, whycouldn't she come to Briarwood?"

"I don't think Sam Curtis is any too well fixed, " said Tom, shaking hishead. "And Mercy's long illness has been a great expense to them. Hello! here we are at the station, with plenty of time to spare. "

Mrs. Murchiston was not going with them; the trio of young folk were totravel alone, so Tom took the tickets, got the trunk checks, andotherwise played escort to the two girls. There were several friendsat the station to bid the Camerons good-bye; but there was nobody butthe stationmaster to say a word to Ruth Fielding. It was his lamedaughter whom they had been discussing with Dr. Davison--an unfortunategirl who had taken a strong liking for Ruth, and for whom the girl fromthe Red Mill, with her cheerful spirit and pleasant face, had done aworld of good. 

The train was made up and they got aboard. Just below Cheslow was theY where this train branched off the main line, and took its way by asingle-track, winding branch, through the hills to the shore of LakeOsago. But the young folks did not have to trouble about their baggageafter leaving Cheslow, for that was checked through--Tom's grip and boxto Seven Oaks, and the girls' over another road, after crossing LakeOsago, to Lumberton, on Triton Lake. 

Lake Osago was a beautiful body of water, some thirty miles long, andwide in proportion; island-dotted and bordered by a rolling country. There were several large towns upon its shores, and, in one place, agreat summer camp of an educational society. Steamboats plied thelake, and up and down the rivers which either emptied into the Osago, or flowed out of it, as far as the dams. 

The trio of school-bound young folk left the train very demurely andwalked down the long wharf to the puffy little steamboat that was totake them the length of the lake to Portageton. Tom had been adjuredby his father to take good care of his sister and Ruth, and he felt theburden of this responsibility. Helen declared, in a whisper to Ruth, that she had never known her twin brother to be so overpoweringlypolite and thoughtful. 

Nevertheless, the fact that they were for the very first time travelingalone (at least, the Camerons had never traveled alone before) did notspoil their enjoyment of the journey. The trip down the lake on thelittle side-wheel steamer was very interesting to all three. First theCamerons and Ruth Fielding went about to see if they could find anyother girl or boy who appeared to be bound to school like themselves. But Tom said he was alone in that intention among the few boys aboard;and there were no girls upon the _Lanawaxa_, as the little steamboatwas named, save Ruth and Helen. 

Tom did not neglect the comfort of the girls, but he really could notkeep away from the engine-room of the _Lanawaxa_. Tom was mightilyinterested in all things mechanical, and in engines especially. So thegirls were left to themselves for a while upon the upper deck of thesteamboat. They were very comfortable under the awning, and had books, and their luncheon, and a box of candy that Tom had bought and given toRuth, and altogether they enjoyed the trip quite as much as anybody. 

The breeze was quite fresh and there were not many passengers on theforward deck where the girls were seated. But one lady sitting nearattracted their attention almost at first. She was such a little, doll-like lady; so very plainly and neatly dressed, yet with a styleabout her that carried the plain frock she wore, and the little hat, asthough they were both of the richest materials. She was dark, hadbrilliant eyes, and her figure was youthful. Yet, when she chanced toraise her veil, Ruth noted that her face was marred by innumerable finewrinkles--just like cracks in the face of a wax doll that had beenexposed to frost. 

"Isn't she a cunning little thing?" whispered Helen, seeing how muchRuth was attracted by the little lady. 

"She's not a dwarf. There's nothing wrong with her, " said Ruth. "She's just a lady in miniature; isn't she? Why, Helen, she's notaller than you are. "

"She's dainty, " repeated her chum. "But she looks odd. "

Below, on the other deck, the music of a little orchestra had beentinkling pleasantly. Now a man with the harp, another with a violin, and a third with a huge guitar, came up the companionway and groupedthemselves to play upon the upper deck. The three musicians were allforeigners--French or Italian. The man who played the harp was a huge, fleshy man, with a red waistcoat and long, black mustache. Thewaistcoat and mustache were the two most noticeable things about him. He sat on a little campstool while he played. 

The musicians struck into some rollicking ditty that pleased the ear. The two girls enjoyed the music, and Helen searched her purse for acoin to give whichever of the musicians came around for the collectionat the end of the concert. There was but one person on the forwarddeck who did not seem to care for the music. The little lady, whoseback was to the orchestra, did not even look around. 

All the time he was playing the huge man who thrummed the harp seemedto have his eyes fixed upon the little lady. This both Ruth and Helennoted. He was so big and she was so fairy-like, that the girls couldnot help becoming interested in the fact that the harpist was so deeply"smitten. "

"Isn't he funny?" whispered Helen to Ruth. "He's so big and she's solittle. And he pays more attention to her than he does to playing thetune. "

Just then the orchestra of three pieces finished its third tune. Thatwas all it ever jingled forth before making a collection. The man whoplayed the guitar slipped the broad strap over his shoulders and stoodup as though to pass his cap. But instantly the huge harpist arose andmuttered something to him in a guttural tone. The other sat down andthe big man seized the cap and began to move about the deck to makesuch collection as the audience was disposed to give for the music. 

Although he had stared so at the unconscious lady's back, the big mandid not go in her direction at first, as the two girls quite expectedhim to do. He went around to the other side of the deck after takingHelen's toll, and so manoeuvred as to come to the end of the lady'sbench and suddenly face her. 

"See him watch her, Ruth?" whispered Helen again. "I believe he knowsher. "

There was such a sly smile on the fat man's face that he seemed to behaving a joke all to himself; yet his eyebrows were drawn down over hisnose in a scowl. It was not a pleasant expression that he carried onhis countenance to the little lady, before whom he appeared with asuddenness that would have startled almost anybody. He wheeled aroundthe end of the settee on which she sat and hissed some word or phrasein her ear, leaning over to do so. 

The little woman sprang up with a smothered shriek. The girls heardher chatter something, in which the word "_merci_" was plain. Sheshrank from the big man; but he was only bowing very low before her, with the cap held out for a contribution, and his grinning face aside. 

"She is French, " whispered Helen, excitedly, in Ruth's ear. "And hespoke in the same language. How frightened she is!"

Indeed, the little lady fumbled in her handbag for something which shedropped into the insistent cap of the harpist. Then, almost runningalong the deck, she whisked into the cabin. She had pulled the veilover her face again, but as she passed the girls they felt quite surethat she was sobbing. 

The big harpist, with the same unpleasant leer upon his face, rolleddown the deck in her wake, carelessly humming a fragment of the tune hehad just been playing. He had collected all the contributions in hisbig hand--a pitiful little collection of nickels and dimes--and hetossed them into the air and caught them expertly as he joined theother players. Then all three went aft to repeat their concert. 

An hour later the _Lanawaxa_ docked at Portageton. When our youngfriends went ashore and walked up the freight-littered wharf, Ruthsuddenly pulled Helen's sleeve. 

"Look there! There--behind the bales of rags going to the paper-mill. Do you see them?" whispered Ruth. 

"I declare!" returned her chum. "Isn't that mysterious? It's thelittle foreign lady and the big man who played the harp--and howearnestly they are talking. "

"You see, she knew him after all, " said Ruth. "But what awicked-looking man he is! And she _was_ frightened when he spoke toher. "

"He looks villainous enough to be a brigand, " returned her chum, laughing. "Yet, whoever heard of a _fat_ brigand? That would take theromance all out of the profession; wouldn't it?"

"And fat villains are not so common; are they?" returned Ruth, echoingthe laugh. 

CHAPTER III

APPROACHING THE PROMISED LAND

Tom had tried to remove the smut of the steamboat engine-room from hisface with his handkerchief; but as his sister told him, his martialappearance in the uniform of the Seven Oaks cadets was rather spoiledby "a smootchy face. " There wasn't time then, however, to make anytoilet before the train left. They were off on the short run to SevenOaks in a very few minutes after leaving the _Lanawaxa_. 

Tom was very much excited now. He craned his head out of the carwindow to catch the first glimpse of the red brick barracks and dome ofthe gymnasium, which were the two most prominent buildings belonging tothe Academy. Finally the hill on which the school buildings stoodflashed into view. They occupied the summit of the knoll, while theseven great oaks, standing in a sort of druidical circle, dotted thesmooth, sloping lawn that descended to the railroad cut. 

"Oh, how ugly!" cried Helen, who had never seen the place before. "Ido hope that Briarwood Hall will be prettier than _that_, or I shallwant to run back home the very first week. "

Her brother smiled in a most superior way. 

"That's just like a girl, " he said. "Wanting a school to look pretty!Pshaw! I want to see a jolly crowd of fellows, that's what I want. Ihope I'll get in with a good crowd. I know Gil Wentworth, who camehere last year, and he says he'll put me in with a nice bunch. That'swhat I'm looking forward to. "

The train was slowing down. There was a handsome brick station and along platform. This was crowded with boys, all in military garb likeTom's own. They looked so very trim and handsome that Helen and Ruthwere quite excited. There were boys ranging from little fellows often, in knickerbockers, to big chaps whose mustaches were sprouting ontheir upper lips. 

"Oh, dear me!" gasped Ruth. "See what a crowd we have got to gothrough. All those boys!"

"That's all right, " Tom said, gruffly. "I'll see you to the stage. There it stands yonder--and a jolly old scarecrow of a carriage it is, too!"

He was evidently feeling somewhat flurried himself. He was going tomeet more than half the great school informally right there at thestation. They had gathered to meet and greet "freshmen. "

But the car in which our friends rode stopped well along the platformand very near the spot where the old, brown, battered, and dust-coveredstage coach, drawn by two great, bony horses, stood in the fallsunshine. Most of the Academy boys were at the other end of theplatform. 

Gil Wentworth, Tom's friend, had given young Cameron several pointersas to his attitude on arrival at the Seven Oaks station. He had beenadvised to wear the school uniform (he had passed the entranceexaminations two months before) so as to be less noticeable in thecrowd. 

Very soon a slow and dirge-like chant arose from the cadets gathered onthe station platform. From the rear cars of the train had steppedseveral boys in citizen's garb, some with parents or guardians and somealone, and all burdened with more or less baggage and a doubtful airthat proclaimed them immediately "new boys. " The hymn of greeting rosein mournful cadence:

 "Freshie! Freshie! How-de-do! We're all waiting here for you. Hold your head up! Square each shoulder! Thrust your chest out! _Do_ look bolder!

 Mamma's precious--papa's man-- Keep the tears back if you can. Sob! Sob! Sob! It's an awful job-- Freshie's leaving home and mo-o-ther!"

The mournful wailing of that last word cannot be expressed by meretype. There were other verses, too, and as the new boys filed off intothe path leading up to the Academy with their bags and otherencumbrances, the uniformed boys, _en masse_, got into step behind themand tramped up the hill, singing this dreadful dirge. The unfortunatenew arrivals had to listen to the chant all the way up the hill. Ifthey ran to get away from the crowd, it only made them look the moreridiculous; the only sensible way was to endure it with a grin. 

Tom grinned widely himself, for he had certainly been overlooked. Or, he thought so until he had placed the two girls safely in the bigomnibus, had kissed Helen good-bye, and shaken hands with Ruth. Butthe girls, looking out of the open door of the coach, saw him descendfrom the step into the midst of a group of solemn-faced boys who hadonly held back out of politeness to the girls whom Tom escorted. 

Helen and Ruth, stifling their amusement, heard and saw poor Tom putthrough a much more severe examination than the other boys, for thevery reason that he had come dressed in his uniform. He was forced toendure a searching inquiry regarding his upbringing and privateaffairs, right within the delighted hearing of the wickedly gigglinggirls. And then a tall fellow started to put him through the manual ofarms. 

Poor Tom was all at sea in that, and the youth, with gravity, declaredthat he was insulting the uniform by his ignorance and caused him toremove his coat and turn it inside out; and so Helen and Ruth saw himmarched away with his stern escort, in a most ridiculous red flannelgarment (the lining of the coat) which made him conspicuous from everybarrack window and, indeed, from every part of the academy hill. 

"Oh, dear me!" sighed Helen, wiping her eyes and almost sobbing afterher laughter. "And Tommy thought he would escape any form of hazing!He wasn't so cute as he thought he was. "

But Ruth suddenly became serious. "Suppose we are greeted in any suchway at Briarwood?" she exclaimed. "I believe some girls are horrid. They have hazing in some girls' schools, I've read. Of course, itwon't hurt us, Helen----"

"It'll be just fun, I think!" cried the enthusiastic Helen and then shestopped with an explosive "Oh!"

There was being helped into the coach by the roughly dressed andbewhiskered driver, the little, doll-like, foreign woman whom theythought had been left behind at Portageton. 

"There ye air, Ma'mzell!" this old fellow said. "An' here's yerbag--an' yer umbrella--an' yer parcel. All there, be ye? Wal, wal, wal! So I got two more gals fer Briarwood; hev I?"

He was a jovial, rough old fellow, with a wind-blown face and beard andhair enough to make his head look to be as big as a bushel basket. Hewas dressed in a long, faded "duster" over his other nondescriptgarments, and his battered hat was after the shape of those worn byGrand Army men. He limped, too, and was slow in his movements anddeliberate in his speech. 

"I s'pose ye _be_ goin' ter Briarwood, gals?" he added, curiously. 

"Yes, " replied Ruth. 

"Where's yer baggage?" he asked. 

"We only have our bags. Our trunks have gone by the way of Lumberton, "explained Ruth. 

"Ah! Well! All right!" grunted the driver, and started to shut thedoor. Then he glanced from Ruth and Helen to the little foreign lady. "I leave ye in good hands, " he said, with a hoarse chuckle. "This herelady is one o' yer teachers, Ma'mzell Picolet. " He pronounced thelittle lady's name quite as outlandishly as he did "mademoiselle. " Itsounded like "Pickle-yet" on his tongue. 

"That will do, M'sieur Dolliver, " said the little lady, rather tartly. "I may venture to introduce myself--is it not?"

She did not raise her veil. She spoke English with scarcely anyaccent. Occasionally she arranged her phrases in an oddly foreign way;but her pronunciation could not be criticised. Old Dolliver, the stagedriver, grinned broadly as he closed the door. 

"Ye allus make me feel like a Frenchman myself, when ye say 'moosher, 'Ma'mzell, " he chuckled. 

"You are going to Briarwood Hall, then, my young ladies?" said MissPicolet. 

"Yes, Ma'am, " said Ruth, shyly. 

"I shall be your teacher in the French language--perhaps in deportmentand the graces of life, " the little lady said, pleasantly. "You willboth enter into advanced classes, I hope?"

Helen, after all, was more shy than Ruth with strangers. When shebecame acquainted she gained confidence rapidly. But now Ruth answeredagain for both:

"I was ready to enter the Cheslow High School; Helen is as far advancedas I am in all studies, Miss Picolet. "

"Good!" returned the teacher. "We shall get on famously with suchbright girls, " and she nodded several times. 

But she was not really companionable. She never raised her veil. Andshe only talked with the girls by fits and starts. There were longspaces of time when she sat huddled in the corner of her seat, with herface turned from them, and never said a word. 

But the nearer the rumbling old stagecoach approached the promised landof Briarwood Hall the more excited Ruth and Helen became. They gazedout of the open windows of the coach doors and thought the countrythrough which they traveled ever so pretty. Occasionally old Dolliverwould lean out from his seat, twist himself around in a most impossibleattitude so as to see into the coach, and bawl out to the two girlssome announcement of the historical or other interest of the localitiesthey passed. 

Suddenly, as they surmounted a long ridge and came out upon the moreopen summit, they espied a bridle path making down the slope, throughan open grove and across uncultivated fields beyond--a vast blueberrypasture. Up this path a girl was coming. She swung her hat by itsstrings in her hand and commenced to run up the hill when she spied thecoach. 

She was a thin, wiry, long-limbed girl. She swung her hat excitedlyand although the girls in the coach could not hear her, they knew thatshe shouted to Old Dolliver. He pulled up, braking the lumberingwheels grumblingly. The newcomer's sharp, freckled face grew plainerto the interested gaze of Ruth and Helen as she came out of the shadowof the trees into the sunlight of the dusty highway. 

"Got any Infants, Dolliver?" the girl asked, breathlessly. 

"Two on 'em, Miss Cox, " replied the stage driver. 

"Then I'm in time. Of course, nobody's met 'em?"

"Hist! Ma'mzell's in there, " whispered Dolliver, hoarsely. 

"Oh! She!" exclaimed Miss Cox, with plain scorn of the French teacher. "That's all right, Dolliver. I'll get in. Ten cents, mind you, fromhere to Briarwood. That's enough. "

"All right, Miss Cox. Ye allus was a sharp one, " chuckled Dolliver, asthe sharp-faced girl jerked open the nearest door of the coach andstared in, blinking, out of the sunlight. 

CHAPTER IV

THE RIVALRY OF THE UPEDES AND THE FUSSY CURLS

The passengers in the Seven Oaks and Lumberton stage sat facing oneanother on the two broad seats. Mademoiselle Picolet had establishedherself in one corner of the forward seat, riding with her back to thedriver. Ruth and Helen were side by side upon the other seat, and thisnewcomer slid quickly in beside them and smiled a very broad andfriendly smile at the two chums. 

"When you've been a little while at Briarwood Hall, " she said, in herquick, pert way, "you'll learn that that's the only way to do with OldDolliver. Make your bargain before you get into the Ark--that's whatwe call this stage--or he surely will overcharge you. Oh! how-do, MissPicolet!"

She spoke to the French teacher so carelessly--indeed, in so scornful atone--that Ruth was startled. Miss Picolet bowed gravely and saidsomething in return in her own language which made Miss Cox flush, andher eyes sparkle. It was doubtless of an admonishing nature, but Ruthand Helen did not understand it. 

"Of course, you are the two girls whom we ex--that is, who wereexpected to-day?" the girl asked the chums, quickly. 

"We are going to Briarwood Hall, " said Ruth, timidly. 

"Well, I'm glad I happened to be out walking and overtook the stage, "their new acquaintance said, with apparent frankness and cordiality. "I'm Mary Cox. I'm a Junior. The school is divided into Primary, Junior and Senior. Of course, there are many younger girls than eitherof you at Briarwood, but all newcomers are called Infants. Probably, however, you two will soon be in the Junior grade, if you do not atonce enter it. "

"I am afraid we shall both feel very green and new, " Ruth said. "Yousee, neither Helen nor I have ever been to a school like this before. My friend is Helen Cameron and my name is Ruth Fielding. "

"Ah! you're going to room together. You have a nice room assigned toyou, too. It's on my corridor--one of the small rooms. Most of us arein quartettes; but yours is a duet room. That's nice, too, when youare already friends. "

She seemed to have informed herself regarding these particularnewcomers, even if she _had_ met them quite by accident. 

Helen, who evidently quite admired Mary Cox, now ventured to say thatshe presumed most of the girls were already gathered for the Autumnterm. 

"There are a good many on hand. Some have been here a week and more. But classes won't begin until Saturday, and then the work will only beplanned for the real opening of the term on Monday. But we're allsupposed to arrive in time to attend service Sunday morning. Mrs. Tellingham is very strict about that. Those who arrive after that havea demerit to work off at the start. "

Mary Cox explained the system under which Briarwood was carried on, too, with much good nature; but all the time she never addressed theFrench teacher, nor did she pay the least attention to her. The coolway in which she conducted the conversation, commenting upon the schoolsystem, the teachers, and all other matters discussed, without theleast reference to Miss Picolet, made Ruth, at least, feel unhappy. Itwas so plain that Mary Cox ignored and slighted the little foreign ladyby intention. 

"I tell you what we will do, " said Mary Cox, finally. "We'll slip outof the stage at the end of Cedar Walk. It's farther to the dormitoriesthat way, but I fancy there'll be few of the girls there. The stage, you see, goes much nearer to Briarwood; but I fancy you girls wouldjust as lief escape the warm greeting we usually give to the arrivingInfants, " and she laughed. 

Ruth and Helen, with a vivid remembrance of what they had seen at SevenOaks, coincided with this suggestion. It seemed very kind of a Juniorto put herself out for them, and the chums told her so. 

"Don't bother, " said Mary Cox. "Lots of the girls--especially girls ofour age, coming to Briarwood for the first time--get in with the wrongcrowd. You don't want to do that, you know. "

Now, the chums could not help being a little flattered by thisstatement. Mary Cox was older than Ruth and Helen, and the latter wereat an age when a year seemed to be a long time indeed. Besides, MissCox was an assured Junior, and knew all about what was still a closedbook to Ruth Fielding and Helen Cameron. 

"I should suppose in a school like Briarwood, " Ruth said, hesitatingly, "that all the girls are pretty nice. "

"Oh! they are, to a degree. Oh, yes!" cried Mary Cox. "Briarwood isvery select and Mrs. Tellingham is very careful. You must know _that_, Miss Cameron, " she added, point-blank to Helen, "or your father wouldnot have sent _you_ here. "

Helen flushed at this boldly implied compliment. Ruth thought toherself again that Mary Cox must have taken pains to learn all aboutthem before they arrived, and she wondered why the Junior had done so. 

"You see, a duo-room costs some money at Briarwood, " explained MissCox. "Most of us are glad, when we get to be Juniors, to get into aquarto--a quartette, you understand. The primary girls are in bigdormitories, anyway. Of course, we all know who your father is, MissCameron, and there will be plenty of the girls fishing for yourfriendship. And there's a good deal of rivalry--at the beginning ofeach year, especially. "

"Rivalry over what?" queried Ruth. 

"Why, the clubs, " said Mary Cox. 

Helen became wonderfully interested at once. Everything pertaining tothe life before her at Briarwood was bound to interest Helen. And thesuggestion of society in the way of clubs and associations appealed toher. 

"What clubs are there?" she demanded of the Junior. 

"Why, there are several associations in the school. The Basket BallAssociation is popular; but that's athletic, not social. Anybody canbelong to that who wishes to play. And we have a good school teamwhich often plays teams from other schools. It's made up mostly ofSeniors, however. "

"But the other clubs?" urged Helen. 

"Why, the principal clubs of Briarwood are the Upedes and the FussyCurls, " said their new friend. 

"What ridiculous names!" cried Helen. "I suppose they _mean_something, though?"

"That's just our way of speaking of them. The Upedes are the Up andDoing Club. The Fussy Curls are the F. C. 's. "

"The F. C. 's?" questioned Ruth. "What do the letters really stand for?"

"Forward Club, I believe. I don't know much about the Fussy Curls, "Mary said, with the same tone and air that she used in addressing thelittle French teacher. 

"You're a Upede!" cried Helen, quickly. 

"Yes, " said Mary Cox, nodding, and seemed to have finished with thatsubject. But Helen was interested; she had begun to like this Coxgirl, and kept to the subject. 

"What are the Upedes and the F. C. 's rivals about?"

"Both clubs are anxious to get members, " Mary Cox said. "Both areputting out considerable effort to gain new members--especially amongthese who enter Briarwood at the beginning of the year. "

"What are the objects of the rival clubs?" put in Ruth, quietly. 

"I couldn't tell you much about the Fussy Curls, " said Mary, carelessly. "Not being one of them I couldn't be expected to take muchinterest in their objects. But _our_ name tells our object at once. 'Up and Doing'! No slow-coaches about the Upedes. We're all alive andwide awake. "

"I hope we will get in with a lively set of girls, " said Helen, with asigh. 

"It will be your own fault if you don't, " said Mary Cox. 

Oddly enough, she did not show any desire to urge the newcomers to jointhe Upedes. Helen was quite piqued by this. But before the discussioncould be carried farther, Mary put her head out of the window andcalled to the driver. 

"Stop at the Cedar Walk, Dolliver. We want to get out there. Here'syour ten cents. "

Meanwhile the little foreign lady had scarcely moved. She had turnedher face toward the open window all the time, and being veiled, thegirls could not see whether she was asleep, or awake. She made no moveto get out at this point, nor did she seem to notice the girls whenMary flung open the door on the other side of the coach, and Ruth andHelen picked up their bags to follow her. 

The chums saw that the stage had halted where a shady, winding pathseemed to lead up a slight rise through a plantation of cedars. Butthe spot was not lonely. Several girls were waiting here for thecoach, and they greeted Mary Cox when she jumped down, vociferously. 

"Well, Mary Cox! I guess we know what you've been up to, " exclaimedone who seemed older than the other girls in waiting. 

"Did you rope any Infants, Mary?" cried somebody else. 

"'The Fox' never took all that long walk for nothing, " declared another. 

But Mary Cox paid her respects to the first speaker only, by saying:

"If you want to get ahead of the Upedes, Madge Steele, you Fussy Curlshad better set your alarm clocks a little earlier. "

Ruth and Helen were climbing out of the old coach now, and the girlnamed Madge Steele looked them over sharply. 

"Pledged, are they?" she said to Mary Cox, in a low tone. 

"Well! I've been riding in the Ark with them for the last three miles. Do you suppose I have been asleep?" returned Miss Cox, with a malicioussmile. 

Ruth and Helen did not distinctly hear this interchange of wordsbetween their new friend and Madge Steele; but Ruth saw that the latterwas a very well dressed and quiet looking girl--that she was reallyvery pretty and ladylike. Ruth liked her appearance much more than shedid that of Mary Cox. But the latter started at once into the cedarplantation, up a serpentine walk, and Helen and Ruth, perforce, wentwith her. The other girls stood aside--some of them whisperingtogether and smiling at the newcomers. The chums could not help butfeel strange and nervous, and Mary Cox's friendship seemed of value tothem just then. 

Ruth, however, looked back at the tall girl whose appearance had soimpressed her. The coach had not started on at once. Old Dolliver dideverything slowly. But Ruth Fielding saw a hand beckoning at the coachwindow. It was the hand of Miss Picolet, the French teacher, and itbeckoned Madge Steele. 

The latter young lady ran to the coach as it lurched forward on itsway. Miss Picolet's face appeared at the window for an instant, andshe seemed to say something of importance to Madge Steele. Ruth sawthe pretty girl pull open the stage-coach door again, and hop inside. Then the Ark lumbered out of view, and Ruth turned to follow her chumand Mary Cox up the winding Cedar Walk. 

CHAPTER V

"THE DUET"

Helen, by this time, having recovered her usual self-possession, wastalking "nineteen to the dozen" to their new friend. Ruth was not inthe least suspicious; but Mary Cox's countenance was altogether toosharp, her gray eyes were too sly, her manner to the French teacher hadbeen too unkind, for Ruth to become greatly enamored of the Junior. Itdid really seem very kind of her, however, to put herself out in thisway for two "Infants. "

"How many teachers are there?" Helen was asking. "And are they all aslittle as that Miss Picolet?"

"Oh, _she_!" ejaculated Mary Cox, with scorn. "Nobody pays anyattention to her. She's not liked, I can tell you. "

"Why, she seemed nice enough to us--only not very friendly, " saidHelen, slowly, for Helen was naturally a kind-hearted girl. 

"She's a poverty-stricken little foreigner. She scarcely ever wears adecent dress. I don't really see why Mrs. Tellingham has her at theschool at all. She has no friends, or relatives, or anybody that knowsher----"

"Oh, yes she has, " said Helen, laughing. 

"What do you mean?" inquired Mary Cox, suspiciously. 

"We saw somebody on the boat coming over to Portageton that knew MissPicolet. "

"Oh, Helen!" ejaculated Ruth, warningly. 

But it was too late, Mary Cox wanted to know what Helen meant, and thestory of the fat man who had played the harp in the boat orchestra, andwho had frightened the French teacher, and had afterward talked soearnestly with her on the dock, all came out in explanation. TheJunior listened with a quiet but unpleasant smile upon her face. 

"That's just what we've always thought about Miss Picolet, " she said. "Her people must be dreadfully common. Friends with a ruffian whoplays a harp on a steamboat for his living! Well!"

"Perhaps he is no relative or friend of hers, " suggested Ruth, timidly. "Indeed, she seemed to be afraid of him. "

"He's mixed up in her private affairs, at least, " said Mary, significantly. "I never could bear Miss Picolet!"

Ruth was very sorry that Helen had happened upon this unfortunatesubject. But her chum failed to see the significance of it, and thegirl from the Red Mill had no opportunity of warning Helen. Mary Cox, too, was most friendly, and it seemed ungrateful to be anything butfrank and pleasant with her. Not many big girls (so thought both Ruthand Helen) would have put themselves out to walk up to Briarwood Hallwith two Infants and their baggage. 

Through breaks in the cedar grove the girls began to catch glimpses ofthe brown old buildings of Briarwood Hall. Ivy masked the entire endof one of the buildings, and even ran up the chimneys. It had been cutaway from the windows, and they showed brilliantly now with thedescending sun shining redly upon them. 

"It's a beautiful old place, Helen, " sighed Ruth. 

"I believe you!" agreed her chum, enthusiastically. 

"It was originally a great manor house. That was the first buildingwhere the tower is, " said Mary Cox, as they came out at last upon themore open lawn that gave approach to this side of the collection ofbuildings, which had been more recently built than the main house. They were built around a rectangular piece of turf called the campus. This, however, the newcomers discovered later, for they came up in therear of the particular dormitory building in which Mary declared theirroom was situated. 

"You can go to the office afterwards, " she explained, kindly. "You'llwant to wash and fix up a little after traveling so far. It alwaysmakes one so dirty. "

"This is a whole lot better than the way poor Tom was received at hisschool; isn't it?" whispered Helen, tucking her arm in Ruth's as theycame to the steps of the building. 

Ruth nodded. But there were so many new things to see that Ruth hadfew words to spare. There were plenty of girls in sight now. Itseemed to the girl from the Red Mill as though there were hundreds ofthem. Short girls, tall girls, thin girls, plump girls--and the veryplumpest girl of her age that Ruth had ever seen, stood right at thetop of the steps. She had a pretty, pink, doll-like face which wasperpetually a-smile. Whereas some of the girls--especially the olderones--stared rather haughtily at the two Infants, this fat girlwelcomed them with a broadening smile. 

"Hello, Heavy, " said Mary Cox, laughing. "It must be close to supperbell, for you're all ready, I see. "

"No, " said the stout girl. "There's an hour yet. Are these the two?"she added, nodding at Ruth and Helen. 

"I always get what I go after, " Ruth heard Mary say, as they whisked inat the door. 

In the hall a quiet, pleasant-faced woman in cap and apron met them. 

"This is Helen Cameron and Ruth Fielding, Miss Scrimp, " said Mary. "Miss Scrimp is matron of our dormitory, girls. I am going up, MissScrimp, and I'll show them to their duet. "

"Very well, Miss Cox, " said the woman, producing two keys, one of whichshe handed to each of the chums. "Be ready for the bell, girls. Youcan see Mrs. Tellingham after supper. "

Ruth stopped to thank her, but Mary swept Helen on with her up thebroad stairway. The room the chums were to occupy (Mr. Cameron hadmade this arrangement for them) was up this first flight only, but wasat the other end of the building, overlooking the campus. It seemed along walk down the corridor. Some of the doors stood open, and moregirls looked out at them curiously as they pursued their way. 

Mary was talking in a low voice to Helen now, and Ruth could not hearwhat she said. But when they stopped at the end of the corridor, andHelen fitted her key into the lock of the door, she said:

"We'd be delighted, Miss Cox. Oh, yes! Ruth and I will both come. "

Mary went away whistling and they heard her laughing and talking withother girls who had come out into the corridor before the chums werewell in their own room. And what a delightful place it seemed to thetwo girls, when they entered! Not so small, either. There were twosingle beds, two dressing tables, running water in a bowl, two closetsand two chairs--all this at one end of the room. At the other end wasa good-sized table to work at, chairs, a couch, and two sets of shelvesfor their books. There were two broad windows with wide seats underthem, too. 

"Isn't it just scrumptious?" cried Helen, hugging Ruth in her delight. "And just think--it's our very own! Oh, Ruthie! won't we just havegood times here?"

Ruth was quite as delighted, if she was not so volubly enthusiastic asHelen. It was a much nicer room, of course, than the girl from the RedMill had ever had before. Her tiny little chamber at the Red Mill wasnothing like this. 

The girls removed such marks of travel as they could and freshenedtheir dress as well as possible. Their trunks would not arrive at theschool until morning, they knew; but they had brought their toiletarticles in their bags. These made some display--on Helen's dresser, at least. But when their little possessions came they could make theroom look more "homey. "

Barely had they arranged their hair when a gentle rap sounded at thedoor. 

"Perhaps that's Miss Cox again, " said Helen. "Isn't she nice, Ruth?"

Her friend had no time to reply before opening the door to the visitor. It was not Miss Cox, but Ruth immediately recognized the tall girl whomMary Cox had addressed as Madge Steele. She came in with a frank smileand her hand held out. 

"I didn't know you were going to come to my corridor, " she said, frankly. "Which of you is Miss Fielding, and which is Miss Cameron?"

It made the chums feel really grown up to be called "Miss, " and theyliked this pretty girl at once. Ruth explained their identity as sheshook hands. Helen was quite as warmly greeted. 

"You will like Briarwood, " said Madge Steele. "I know you will. Iunderstand you will enter the Junior classes. I have just entered theSenior grade this year. There are lots of nice girls on this corridor. I'll be glad to introduce you after supper. "

"We have not been to the office yet, " said Ruth. "I believe that iscustomary?"

"Oh, you must see the Preceptress. She's just as nice as she can be, is Mrs. Tellingham. You'll see her right after supper?"

"I presume so, " Ruth said. 

"Then, I tell you what, " said Madge. "I'll wait for you and take youto the Forward Club afterwards. We have an open meeting this evening. Mrs. Tellingham will be there--she is a member, you know--so are theother teachers. We try to make all the new girls feel at home. "

She nodded to them both brightly and went out. Ruth turned to her chumwith a smile. 

"Isn't that nice of her, Helen?" she said. "We are getting onfamously---- Why, Helen! what's the matter?" she cried. 

Helen's countenance was clouded indeed. She shook her head obstinately. 

"We can't go with her, Ruth, " she declared. 

"Can't go with her?"

"No. "

"Why not, pray?" asked Ruth, much puzzled. 

"We can't go to that Forward Club, " said Helen, more emphatically. 

"Why, my dear!" exclaimed Ruth. "Of course we must. We haven't got tojoin it. Maybe they wouldn't ask us to join it, anyway. You see, it'spatronized by the teachers and the Preceptress herself. We'll be sureto meet the very nicest girls. "

"That doesn't follow, " said Helen, somewhat stubbornly. "Anyway, wecan't go, Ruth. "

"But I don't understand, dear, " said the puzzled Ruth. 

"Why, don't you see?" exclaimed Helen, with some exasperation. "I toldMiss Cox we'd go with her. "

"Go where?"

"To _her_ club. _They_ hold a meeting this evening, too. You know, she said there was rivalry between the two big school clubs. Hers isthe Upedes. "

"Oh! the Up and Doings, " laughed Ruth. "I remember. "

"She said she would wait for us after we get through with Mrs. Tellingham and introduce us to _her_ friends. "

"Well!" gasped Ruth, with a sigh. "We most certainly cannot go toboth. What shall we do?"

CHAPTER VI

THE ENTERING WEDGE

Since Ruth Fielding had first met Helen Cameron--and that was on thevery day the former had come to the Red Mill--the two girls had neverhad a cross word or really differed much on any subject. Ruth was themore yielding of the two, perhaps, and it might be that that was whyHelen seemed so to expect her to yield now. 

"Of course, Ruthie, we can't disappoint Miss Cox, " she said, withfinality. "And after she was so kind to us, too. "

"Are you sure she did all that out of simple kindness, Helen?" askedthe girl from the Red Mill, slowly. 

"Why! what do you mean?"

"Aunt Alviry says one should never look a gift-horse in the mouth, "laughed Ruth. 

"What _do_ you mean?" demanded her chum. 

"Why, Helen, doesn't it seem to you that Mary Cox came out deliberatelyto meet us, and for the purpose of making us feel under obligation toher?"

"For pity's sake, what for?"

"So that we would feel just as _you_ do--that we ought if possible toattend the meeting of her society?"

"I declare, Ruth Fielding! How suspicious you have become all of asudden. "

Ruth still laughed. But she said, too: "That is the way it has struckme, Helen. And I wondered if you did not see her attention in the samelight, also. "

"Why, she hasn't asked us to join the Upedes, " said Helen. 

"I know. And neither has Miss Steele----"

"You seem to have taken a great fancy to that Madge Steele, "interrupted Helen, sharply. 

"I think she is nice looking--and she was very polite, " said Ruth, quietly. 

"Well, I don't care, " cried Helen. "Miss Cox has shown us much morekindness. And I promised for us, Ruth. I said we'd attend her clubthis evening. "

"Well, " said her chum, slowly. "It _does_ look as though we would haveto go with Miss Cox, then. We'll tell Miss Steele----"

"I believe your head has been turned by that Madge Steele because she'sa Senior, " declared Helen, laughing, yet not at all pleased with herfriend. "And the F. C. 's are probably a fussy crowd. All the teachersbelonging to the club too. I'd rather belong to the Upedes--a realgirls' club without any of the teachers to boss it. "

Ruth laughed again; but there was no sting in what she said: "I guessyou have made up your mind already that the Up and Doing Club is theone Helen Cameron wants to join. "

"And the one Ruth Fielding must join, too!" declared Helen, in her oldwinning way, slipping her arm through Ruth's arm. "We mustn't goseparate ways, Ruthie. "

"Oh, Helen!" cried Ruth. "Don't talk like that. Of course we willnot. But let us be careful about our friendships here. "

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, " said Ruth, smiling, "that we must be careful about joiningany crowd of girls until we know just how things are. "

"Well, " said Helen, dropping her arm and walking to the other end ofthe room for no reason whatsoever, for she walked back again, in amoment, "I don't see why you are so suspicious of Mary Cox. "

"I don't know that I am, " laughed Ruth. "But we have no means ofcomparison yet----"

A mellow bell began to ring from some other building--probably in thetower of the main building of Briarwood Hall. 

"There!" ejaculated Helen, in some relief. "That must be to announcesupper. "

"Are you ready, Helen?" asked Ruth. 

"Yes. "

"Then let us go. "

There was a card on which were printed several simple rules of conducttacked to the door. The chums had read them. One was that roomsshould be left unlocked in the absence of the occupants, and Ruth andHelen went out into the corridor, leaving their door open. There wereother girls in the passage then, all moving toward the stairway. Someof them nodded kindly to the Infants. Others only stared. 

Ruth saw Miss Steele in advance, and whispered to Helen:

"Come, dear; let us speak to her and tell her we cannot accept herInvitation for this evening. "

But Helen held back. "You can tell her if you like, " she said, rathersullenly. 

"But, let us be nice about it, " urged Ruth. "I'll tell her weoverlooked the fact that we were already engaged for the meeting of theUp and Doing Club. I'll explain. "

Helen suddenly seized her chum's arm more tightly. "You _are_ a goodlittle thing, Ruthie, " she declared. "Come on. "

They hurried after the Senior and caught up with her at the foot of thestairs. She was not alone, but Ruth touched her arm and asked to speakwith her. 

"What's the matter, Infants?" demanded the Senior, but smiling at them. 

Helen flushed at the expression, but Ruth was too earnest in herintention to smooth over the difficulty to notice so small a thing. 

"Oh, Miss Steele, " she said, "I am sorry to beg off from the kindinvitation you gave us. We cannot go with you this evening. It seemsthat it was already understood with Miss Cox that we should go withher. "

"Oh!" exclaimed Madge Steele, a little stiffly, "you are alreadypledged, then?"

"Yes, we are pledged to attend the meeting of the Up and Doing Clubthis evening. It was very kind of Miss Cox to invite us, " said Ruth, calmly. "And it was kind of you to invite us to the F. C. 's, too. Butwe cannot attend both meetings--not in one evening. "

Madge Steele was looking at her earnestly and found that Ruth neitherdropped her gaze nor appeared confused by her scrutiny. Helen was theone who seemed confused. 

"It is not our usage to interfere with those who are pledged to otherschool clubs, " said Miss Steele, speaking distinctly. "I understand, then, that you are _not_ pledged?"

"Only to attend this meeting as visitors of Miss Cox, " said Ruth, simply. 

"Very well, then, " said Madge Steele, her pleasant face breaking into asmile again, "I shall hope to see you at some future meeting of theForward Club. Here we are on the campus. It is cool and shady here, even in the hottest weather. We think it is a decidedly pleasantplace. "

She walked beside them, conversing pleasantly. Helen recovered hergood temper and ventured a remark about the fountain which graced thecenter of the campus. It was a huge marble figure of a sitting female, in graceful draperies and with a harp, or lyre, on the figure's knee. The clear water bubbled out all around the pedestal, and the statue andbowl were sunk a little below the level of the greensward, like a smallItalian garden. 

"What is the figure supposed to represent, Miss Steele?" asked Helen. 

"You are allowed three guesses--and then you won't know, " laughed theSenior. "You can see by the stains and moss on it that the fountainhas been there a great many years. Long before Briarwood Hall was aschool. But it is supposed to represent either _Poesy_, or _Harmony_. Nobody knows--not even Mrs. Tellingham. "

The bell stopped tolling with three, sharp, jerky taps. Madge Steelequickened her pace along the path and the newcomers followed her. Other girls were pouring into the building nearest to the mainstructure of Briarwood. A broad stairway led up to assembly rooms; butout of the lower hall opened a large dining room, in which were ten ortwelve long tables, and at which the girls were already being seated bysome sort of system. 

"I don't know where you will be seated, " said Madge Steele, hastily. "I am at the second Senior table. Here comes Miss Picolet. She willattend to you Infants. "

"Oh, it's the little French teacher, " said Helen. 

Ruth met the little lady with a smile. Miss Picolet nodded to themboth and put out her tiny hand. She really was no taller than Helen. 

"I am glad, young ladies, to see you in such good company. Miss Steeleis well worth cultivating, " she said. "Come this way. You will beseated in the Junior division. It is probable that you will be placedin that grade permanently. Mrs. Tellingham will see you in her officein the next building immediately after supper. "

Ruth and Helen followed the doll-like teacher to their seats. The girlwhom Mary Cox had called "Heavy" (and, indeed, it was a mostappropriate name) was already seated, and was right at Ruth's elbow. 

"Oh, I hope they'll be seated soon, " Ruth heard this over-plump girlmurmur. "This is cup-custard night, and I'm so-o hungry. "

The tables were laid nicely. There were several waitresses, andbesides Miss Picolet, there were at least four other ladies whom Ruthknew must be teachers. The hall was by no means filled. There werenot more than a hundred and fifty girls present. The door at the farend opened and a handsome, white-haired, pink-cheeked lady entered. She mounted a slightly raised platform and stood for a momentoverlooking the room. 

"It's Mrs. Tellingham, " whispered the fat girl to Ruth, seeing thequestion in the latter's face. 

The Preceptress was a really handsome lady--perhaps forty-five, perhapsten years older. Her perfectly white hair, thick and well arranged, seemed to have been the result of something besides age. Here face wasquite free from any age-marks. There was a kind look in her eyes; ahumorous expression about her mouth. Helen leaned toward Ruth andwhispered:

"I know I shall just love her, Ruth--don't you?"

"And you won't be alone in that, Infant, " said the girl on Helen'sother hand. "Now!"

Mrs. Tellingham raised her hand. The school arose and stood quietlywhile she said grace. Another motion of the hand, and they sat downagain. The bustle of supper then began, with the girls talking andlaughing, the waitresses serving a plain, hot meal, and everybody inapparent good-nature, and happy. Ruth could scarcely pay attention tothe food, however, she was so much more interested in these who were tobe her school-fellows. 

CHAPTER VII

THE UPEDES

It was all so new and strange to Helen and Ruth that neither hadconsidered the possibility of homesickness. Indeed, how could they behomesick? There was too much going on at Briarwood Hall for thenewcomers to think much of themselves. 

The plump girl next to Ruth seemed of a friendly disposition, for whenshe had satisfied the first cravings of her appetite--oh, long beforeshe came to the cup-custard!--she said:

"Which are you--Cameron, or Fielding? I'm Stone--Jennie Stone. "

Ruth told her their names and asked in return:

"Are you on our corridor, too? I know you are rooming in the samebuilding as Helen and I. "

"Yes, " said the fat girl. "I'm in a quartette with Mary Cox, LluellaFairfax and Belle Tingley. Oh, you'll see plenty of us, " said Heavy. "And I say! you're going to the Upede meeting to-night; aren't you?"

"Why--yes. Do you all belong?"

"Our quartette? Sure, " said the plump girl in her off-hand way. "We'll show you some fun. And I say!"

"Well?" asked Ruth. 

"How often are they going to send you boxes from home?"

"Boxes from home?" repeated the girl from the Red Mill. 

"Yes. You know, you can have 'em sent often if you keep up with yourclasses and don't get too many demerits in deportment. I missed twoboxes last half because of black marks. And in French and deportment, too. _That_ was Picolet's doing--mean thing!"

"I had no idea that one would be allowed to receive goodies, " saidRuth, who of course expected nothing of the kind from home, but did notwish to say so. 

"Well, you want to write your folks that you can receive 'em rightaway. A girl who gets things from home can be very popular if shewants to be. Ah! here's the custard. "

Ruth had difficulty in keeping from laughing outright. She saw plainlythat the nearest way to Miss Jennie Stone's heart lay through herstomach. 

Meanwhile Helen had become acquainted with the girl on the other sidewho had called them "Infants. " But she was a good-natured girl, too, and now Helen introduced her to her chum as Miss Polk. She was adark-haired, plain-faced girl and wore eye-glasses. She was a Juniorand already Helen had found she belonged to the F. C. 's. 

"I guess most of the stiff and starched ones belong to that ForwardClub, " whispered Helen to her chum. "But the jolly ones are Upedes. "

"We'll wait and see, " advised Ruth. 

Supper was over then and the girls all rose and strolled out of theroom in parties. Ruth and Helen made their way quietly to the exit andlooked for the office of the Preceptress. The large building with thetower--the original Briarwood Hall--was partly given up to recitationsand lecture rooms and partly to the uses of the Tellinghams and theteachers. Besides this great building there were two dormitorybuildings, the gymnasium, the library building, and a chapel which hadbeen built only the year before by subscriptions of the graduates ofthe school and of the parents of the scholars then attending. But itwas growing dusk now and the two friends could not see much of thebuildings around the campus. 

Mrs. Grace Tellingham and her husband (the Doctor never by any chancecame first in anybody's mind!) had started the school some years beforein a small way; but it had grown rapidly and was, as we have seen, verypopular. Many girls were graduated from the institution to the biggirls' colleges, for it was, in fact, a preparatory school. 

The chums went in at the broad door and saw a library at the right handinto which a tidy maid motioned them, with a smile. It was a largeroom, the walls masked by bookshelves, all filled so tightly that itdid seem as though room for another book could not be found. But Mrs. Tellingham was not there. 

Bending over the table, however, (and it was a large, leather-coveredtable with a great student lamp in the center, the shade of which threwa soft glow of light in a circle upon it) was a gentleman whoseshoulders were very round and who seemed to be so near-sighted that hisnose must have been within an inch or so of the book which he read. Hewas totally unconscious of the girls' presence, and he read in a halfwhisper to himself, like a child conning a lesson. 

Ruth and Helen looked at each other, each thinking the same question. Could this be Doctor Tellingham, the great historian? They glancedagain at the hoop-shouldered man and wondered what his countenance waslike, for they could not see a feature of it as he read. But Ruth_did_ notice one most surprising fact. The stooping gentleman wore awig. It was a brown, rather curly wig, while the fringe of naturalhair all around his head was quite white--of that yellowish-white thatproclaims the fact that the hair was once light brown, or sandy incolor. The brown wig matched the hair at one time, without doubt; butit now looked as though two gentlemen's heads had been merged inone--the younger gentleman's being the upper half of the presentapparition. 

For several minutes the chums stood timidly in the room and the oldgentleman went on whispering to himself, and occasionally nodding hishead. But at length he looked up, and in doing this he saw the girlsand revealed his own countenance. 

"Ah-ha!" he ejaculated, and stood upright. He was not a small man, buthe was very bony. He had a big, long, smoothly-shaven face, on whichhis beard had sprouted in patches only, and these shaven patches weregray, whereas the rest of his face was smooth and dead-white. Indeedhe had so much face, and it was so bald, that if the brown wig hadchanced to tumble off Ruth thought that his appearance would have beenactually terrifying. 

"Ah-ha!" he said again, and smiled not unkindly. The thick spectacleshe wore hid his eyes, however, and to look into his big face was likelooking at the white wall of a house with the windows all shuttered. "You want something!"

He said it as though he had made a most profound discovery. Indeed, they found afterward that Doctor Tellingham always spoke as though hewere pronouncing a valedictory oration, or something quite as importantas that. The doctor never could say anything lightly. His mind wasgiven up entirely to deep subjects, and it seldom strayed from his work. 

"You want something, " he repeated. "Stop! never mind explaining. Ishouldn't be able to aid you. Mrs. Tellingham--my wife, my dears--willbe here anon. "

He at once bobbed down his head, revealing nothing to the eyes of thetwo girls but the brown wig and the hair that didn't match, and went onwhispering to himself. Helen and Ruth exchanged glances and Helen haddifficulty in keeping from laughing outright. 

In a moment more Mrs. Tellingham came into the room. At close viewRuth saw that she was even more attractive than she had seemed at adistance. Her countenance was firm without being stern--the humorabout the mouth relieved its set expression. 

"My dear! my dear!" ejaculated the Doctor, raising his head so that thelong, bald expanse of his face came into view again for a moment, "somebody to see you--somebody wants something. "

Mrs. Tellingham approached Helen first and took her hand. Herhandclasp was firm, her manner one to put the girl at her ease. 

"You are Mr. Macy Cameron's daughter?" she questioned. "We are glad tosee you here. You have found your room?"

"Yes, Mrs. Tellingham, " replied Helen. 

The Preceptress turned to Ruth and shook hands with her. "And you areRuth Fielding? Do as well this first half as your last teacher tellsme you did, and we shall be good friends. Now, girls, sit down. Letus talk a bit. "

She had a quick, bright way of speaking; yet her words were notwasted--nor her time. She did not talk idly. Nor did the two chumshave much to say but "Yes" and "No. " In the course of her remarks shesaid:

"This is your first experience, I understand, away from home and in aschool of this character? Yes? Ah, then, many things will be new andstrange to you, as well as hard to bear at first. Among two hundredgirls there are bound to be girls of a good many different kinds, " andshe smiled. "You will find some thoughtless and careless--forgettingwhat they have been sent to the school for. Avoid that class. Theywill not aid you in your own intention to stand well in the classes. 

"Keep before you the fact that your friends have sent you here forimprovement--not to kill time. All girls like fun; I hope you willfind plenty of innocent amusement here. I want all my girls happy andcontent. Use the advantages of our gym; join the walking club; we makea point of having one of the best basketball teams in this part of theState. Tennis is a splendid exercise for girls, and we have an indooras well as outdoor courts. Yes, do not neglect the good times. Butremember, too, that amusement isn't the main issue of life at BriarwoodHall. Let nothing interfere with the study hour. Keep the rules--westrive to have as few as possible, so that there may be less temptationto break them, " and the Preceptress smiled her quick, understandingsmile again. 

"By the way, there are social clubs in the school. To-night--have youbeen invited to any gathering?"

"Both the Forward Club and the Up and Doings have invited us to attendtheir meetings, " said Ruth, quietly. 

"Ah!"

"We are going to the Up and Doings, Mrs. Tellingham, " said Helen. 

"Ah!" was again the lady's comment, and they learned nothing from hercountenance. Nevertheless, Ruth thought it better to explain:

"We were very kindly received by Miss Cox, and shown our room by her, and she invited us to her club first of all. "

"Indeed! We shall be glad to have you come to our club, too, beforeyou make up your minds to join any, " said Mrs. Tellingham, with anaccent on one word that made both Ruth and Helen mark it well. The F. C. 's were plainly approved by the Preceptress. 

"There!" she continued, nodding smilingly at the chums. "I am sure weshall get on together. You will become acquainted with both yourschool-fellows and your instructors in course of time. There are notso many at Briarwood Hall but that we are still one great family. Onething girls come away from home for, to an institution like this, is tolearn self-control and self-government. If you need help do not beafraid to go to your instructors, or come to me. Confide in us. But, on the other hand, you must learn to judge for yourself. We do notpunish an act of wrong judgment, here at Briarwood. " And so thePreceptress bade them good-evening. 

"Isn't she nice?" whispered Ruth, as she and Helen made their exit fromthe room. 

"Ye-es, " admitted her chum. "But you can see she is dreadfully'bossy. '"

At that Ruth laughed heartily. "You foolish child!" she said, shakingher chum a little. "Isn't she here to 'boss'? My goodness! you didn'texpect to do just as _you_ pleased here at Briarwood; did you?"

Helen Cameron had been used to having her own way a good deal. Beingnaturally a sweet-tempered girl, she was not much spoiled. But Mrs. Murchiston had been unable to be very strict with the twins when Mr. Cameron was so indulgent himself. 

Mary Cox and "Heavy" Stone were waiting on the steps for the friends asthey came out. There was another group of girls on the path, too, whoeyed Ruth and Helen interestedly as the latter came down the steps withthe two Juniors. "'The Fox' has been in the poultry yard again, andhas caught two chickabiddies, " laughed one of these idle girls. 

Ruth flushed, but Helen did not hear the gibe, being much interested inwhat Mary Cox was saying to her. Ruth walked beside the good-naturedJennie Stone. 

"My, my!" chuckled that damsel, "aren't those Fussy Curls jealous?They had to take the teachers into their old club so as to be morenumerous than the Upedes. But I guess Mary Cox will show 'em! She_is_ a fox, and I guess she always will be!"

"Is that what they call Miss Cox?" asked Ruth, not a little troubled. 

"Oh, she's foxy, all right, " said this rather slangy young lady. "Shewill beat the Fussy Curls every time. She's President of the Upedes, you know. "

Ruth was still troubled, and she hastened to say:

"You know, we haven't been asked to join the club, Miss Stone. And mychum and I are not sure that we wish to join any of the school clubs atfirst. We--we want to look around us, you know. "

"That's all right, " said Jennie Stone, cordially. "You'll be put upfor membership when you want to be. But we'll show you some fun. Nouse getting in with those poky F. C. 's. You'll never have a bit of funif you train with them. "

They went back to the building in which they had supped and upstairs toone of the assembly rooms. The stairway and hall were well filled withgirls now, and several of them nodded smilingly to Ruth and Helen; buttheir escorts did not let the chums stop at all, ushering them at onceinto the room where the Up and Doing clan was gathering. 

Mary Cox left Heavy to introduce the newcomers while she went at onceto the rostrum and with two or three of the other girls--who wereevidently officers of the club, likewise--held a short executivesession in secret. By and by Mary rapped on the desk for order, andthe girls all took seats. Ruth, who was watchful, saw that the companynumbered scarcely a score. If these were all the members of the club, she wondered how many of the Briarwood girls belonged to the rivalassociation. 

The meeting, as far as the business went, was conducted briskly and tothe point. Then it was "thrown open" and everybody--but thevisitors--talked just as they pleased. Helen and Ruth were made tofeel at home, and the girls were most lively and good-natured. Theyheard that the Upedes were to have a picnic at a grove upon the shoreof Lake Triton on the Saturday week, and that Old Dolliver and hisramshackle stage, and another vehicle of the same caliber, were engagedfor the trip. 

"But beware of black marks, girls, " warned Mary Cox. "Picolet will bewatching us; and you know that, this early in the term, two black markswill mean an order to remain on the school premises. That old cat willcatch us if she can. "

"Mean little thing!" said Heavy, wheezily. "I wish anybody but MissPicolet lived in our house. "

From this Ruth judged that most of these Up and Doings were in thedormitory in which she and Helen were billeted. 

"I don't see what Mrs. Tellingham keeps Picolet for, " complainedanother girl. 

"For a spy, " snapped Mary Cox. "But we'll get the best of her yet. She isn't fit to be a teacher in this school, anyway. "

"Oh, she's a good French teacher--of course. It's her native tongue, "said one of the other girls, who was called Belle Tingley. 

"That's all very well, " snapped Mary. "But there's something secretand underhand about her. She claims to have nobody related to her inthis country; but if the truth were known, I guess, she has reason tobe ashamed of her family and friends. I've heard something----"

She stopped and looked knowingly at Ruth and Helen. The former flushedas she remembered the man in the red waistcoat who played the harpaboard the steamboat. But Helen seemed to have forgotten the incident, for she paid no attention to Mary's unfinished suggestion. 

It worried Ruth, however. She heartily wished that her chum had saidnothing to the Cox girl about the man who played the harp and hisconnection with the little French teacher. 

CHAPTER VIII

THE MARBLE HARP

The social meeting of the Up and Doing Club lasted less than an hour. It was quite evident that it had been mainly held for the introductionof Ruth Fielding and her chum into the society of the Briarwood girls. Those gathered in the assembly room did not number any Seniors, butwere all of the Junior grade, and all older than Ruth and Helen. "Primes" were not allowed by Mrs. Tellingham to join any of theclass-governed societies. 

In spite of the fact that Ruth suspected Mary Cox of deliberatelythrowing herself in the way of Helen and she on their arrival at theschool, with the sole object of getting them pledged to this society, the girl from the Red Mill could not fail to appreciate thegood-natured attempts of the Upedes to make them both feel at home intheir new surroundings. They _must_ be grateful for that. 

Nor were they urged at this time to join the club. At least, nobodysaid more to Ruth about joining than had the stout girl, Jennie Stone, on their way to this meeting. The party broke up in such good season, that it was scarcely dark when the chums left the room in the dininghall and strolled back to their dormitory with their new friends. Thelamps around the campus were being lighted by a little old Irishman, who wore a wreath of short, gray whiskers and hair about his face--aregular frame. His long upper lip and his chin were shaven, and thisarrangement gave him a most comical appearance. 

"You're late again to-night, Tony, " Jennie Stone remarked, as she andRuth came down the steps of the dining hall together. 

The little Irishman backed down the short flight of steps he carried, with a groan. He had just lighted the final lamp of the series thatsurrounded the campus. 

"And well I might be--well I might be, " grumbled the man. "'Tis meneeds fower pair of hands, instead of wan pair, and as many legs as acinterpig. " Tony evidently meant _centipede_. "'Tis 'Tony, here!' and'Tony, there!' iv'ry blissid minute av th' day. An' 'tis movin' trunksan' boxes, and the like--Mis' Grace should hire a nelephant at thistime of the year, an' so I tell her. An' what with these hereforeigners too--bad 'cess to them! I have to chase ev'ry rag tag andbobtail on the place, so I do----"

"Not tramps again, Tony?" cried Jennie Stone. 

"'Tis worse. Musickle bodies, they be. Playin' harps an' fiddles, an'the loikes. Sure, 'twill be hand-organs an' moonkeys to-morrer, belike. Ah, yes!"

"Maybe some of these traveling musicians can play the marble harpyonder, " said Heavy, with a chuckle, pointing to the now half-shroudedfigure in the center of the campus. 

"Oh, wirra, wirra! don't be sayin' it, " grumbled the old man. "There'sbad luck in speakin' of _thim_ folks. "

Jennie Stone squeezed Ruth's arm, still laughing, as they went on andleft the old Irishman. "He's just as superstitious as he can be, " shewhispered. "He really believes the old story about the harp. "

"He ought to believe in a harp, " laughed Ruth, in return, "he beingIrish. Tell me, who is he?"

"Anthony Foyle. He's the only workman about the place who sleeps onthe premises. His wife's our cook. They're a comical old couple--andshe _does_ make the nicest tarts! They'd melt in your mouth if youcould only make up your mind to hold them long enough on your tongue, "sighed Heavy, rapturously. 

"But what's the story about the marble harp?" queried Ruth, as theycame to the dormitory and joined the other girls. "You mean the harpheld by that figure at the fountain?"

"Hello!" cried Belle Tingley. "Heavy's trying to scare the Infant withthe campus ghost story. "

"Oh! a real ghost story!" cried Helen. "Do let's hear it. "

"Come into our room, Cameron, " said Lluella Fairfax, lazily, "and Iwill tell the tale and harrow up thy young soul----"

"And make thy hair stand on end like quills upon the fretful'porkypine, '" finished Mary Cox. "Yes! let Lluella tell it. It iswell for Infants to learn the legends as well as the rules of BriarwoodHall. "

Helen was used to being called "Infant" by now and didn't mind so much. She was so much taken with their new friends and the Upedes in generalthat she went right into the room occupied by Mary Cox and her chums, without a word to Ruth, and the latter followed with Heavy, perforce. 

The windows of the "quartette" looked out upon the campus. The lightsin the other dormitory shone brightly and the lamps around the openspace, which the buildings of Briarwood surrounded, glimmered in thedark. Voices came up to them from the walks; but soon these ceased, for the girls were all indoors. The campus was deserted. 

"Don't let's light the lamp, " said Lluella. "I can tell stories betterin the dark. "

"And ghost stories, too, " laughed Helen. 

"Not so much of a ghost story--at least, there's nothing reallyterrible about it, " returned Miss Fairfax, slowly. "I suppose thereare not many people who talk about it, outside of our own selves hereat Briarwood. But once--before the school came here--the marble statuedown there was the talk of the whole countryside. I believe Mrs. Tellingham doesn't like the story to be repeated, " added Miss Fairfax. "She thinks such superstitions aren't good for the minds of the Primesand Infants, " and the story-teller laughed. 

"However, it is a fact that the original owner of Briarwood Hall had abeautiful daughter. She was the apple of his eye--all beautifuldaughters are apples of their fathers' eyes, " said Lluella, laughing. "Jennie is _her_ father's apple----"

"Adam's apple, " suggested Mary Cox. 

"Such a size for an Adam's apple would choke a giant, " murmured BelleTingley, for the three were always joking poor Heavy because of herover-plumpness. 

"Don't you bother about my father, " said Jennie, calmly. "He gives mea dollar every month for chocolate creams, and you girls help eat them, I notice. "

"Hurrah for the Stone _pere_!" cried Mary Cox. "Go on, Lluella. "

"You sound as though you cheered for a sea-wall of masonry, or somesuch maritime structure, " complained Jennie. "'Stone _pere_, ' indeed!"

"She sha'n't have any of the next box of creams, Heavy, " said Lluella, soothingly. 

"And I'm not sure that _you_ will, either, " replied the fat girl. "_Do_ tell your story, Miss!" and Heavy yawned monstrously. 

"How _dare_ you yawn before 'taps'?" cried Belle. "I'll douse thewater-pitcher over you, Jennie. "

At this threat the fat girl sat up promptly and again urged Lluella tocontinue her tale. So Miss Fairfax continued:

"This rich old gentleman with the apple in his eye--in other words, abeautiful daughter--had a great deal more money than sense, I think. He engaged a sculptor to design a fountain for his lawn, and the drapedfigure you have seen upon that pedestal down yonder, is supposed to bethe portrait of the beautiful daughter cut into enduring marble by theman who _sculped_. But, unfortunately for the old gentleman's peace ofmind while he _sculped_ the marble the artist likewise made love to theyoung lady and they ran away and were married, leaving the oldgentleman nothing but the cold marble statue playing the marble harp, in place of a daughter. 

"The father's heart at once became as adamant as the marble itself, andhe refused to support the sculptor and his wife. Now, either therunaway couple died miserably of starvation in a garret, or weredrowned at sea, or were wrecked in a railroad accident, or some otherdreadful catastrophe happened to them--I'm not sure which; for after atime there began to be something strange about the fountain. The oldman lived here alone with his servants for a number of years; but theservants would not remain long with him, for they said the place washaunted. "

"Oh my!" exclaimed Helen. 

"That's right, Miss Cameron. Please show the proper amount ofthrilling interest. They said the fountain was queer. The water neverpoisoned anybody; but sometimes the marble strings of the marble harpin the marble hand or the marble daughter would be heard to twang inthe night. Weird music came from the fountain at ghostly hours. Ofcourse, the little harp the statue holds is in the form of a lyre; andwhat the people were who told these stories about the ghostly twangingof the instrument--you may draw your own conclusions, " laughed LluellaFairfax. 

"However, the old gentleman at last broke up his household, or died, ormoved to town, or something, and Briarwood was put up for sale and theschool came here. That was a good many years ago. Dr. Tellingham'swig matched his fringe of hair when the school first began here, sothat must have been a good while ago. The twanging of the marble harphas been heard down through the school ages, so it issaid--particularly at queer times----"

"Queer times?" asked Ruth. 

"Why, when something out of the common was about to happen. They sayit twanged the night before our team beat the basket-ball team fromVarden Preparatory. There was a girl here once who ran away becauseher folks went to Europe and left her behind at school. She wasdetermined to follow them, and she got as far as New York and stoleaboard a great steamer so as to follow her parents; only the steamshipshe boarded had just come in instead of just going out. They say themarble harp twanged _then_. "

"And when Heavy failed to oversleep one morning last half the marbleharp must have twanged _that_ time, " declared Mary Cox. 

A gentle snore answered from the window seat, where Jennie Stone hadactually gone to sleep. 

"Wasted humor, " said Mary, laughing. "Heavy is in the Land of Nod. It's been a hard day for her. At supper she had to eat her own andMiss Fielding's share of the cup-custards. "

Ruth and Helen had already risen to go. 

"You'll remember, Infants, " said Lluella, "when you hear the twang ofthe ghostly harp, that something momentous is bound to happen atBriarwood Hall. "

"But more important still, " warned Mary, "be sure that your lights areout within twenty minutes after retiring bell sounds. Otherwise youwill have that cat, Picolet, poking into your room to learn what is thematter. "

CHAPTER IX

THE GHOSTLY TRIBUNAL

"Aren't they just fine? Isn't it just fun?"

These were the enthusiastic questions that Helen Cameron hurled at Ruthwhen they returned to their own room. The girl from the Red Mill wasglad that their school life had opened so pleasantly; but she was by nomeans blinded--as Helen seemed to be--to the faults of their neighborsin the room they had just left. 

"They have been very friendly and we have no complaint to make, that issure, Helen, " she said. 

"How exasperating you are at times!" exclaimed her chum. "Just thesame, I am glad we didn't go with those poky Fussy Curls to _their_meeting. "

Ruth made no reply to this. The bell in the tower had tolled nine, andthey knew that there were twenty minutes only in which to get ready forretiring. Those girls who had lights after twenty minutes past ninewere likely to be questioned, and any who burned a lamp after halfafter nine would find a demerit against their names in the morning. 

The chums hurried, then, to get ready for sleep. "Don't you hope we'lldream something very nice?" whispered Helen as she plunged into bedfirst. 

"I hope we will, " returned Ruth, waiting to see her comfortable beforeshe turned out the light and bent over her chum to kiss her. "Good-night, Helen. I hope we'll be just as good friends here, dear, as we have been since we met. "

"Of course we will, Ruthie!" declared Helen, quite as warmly. 

"We will let nobody, or nothing, come between us?" said Ruth, a littlewistfully in the dark. 

"Of course not!" declared Helen, with added emphasis. 

Then Ruth crept into her own bed and lay looking at the whiter patch ofthe nearest window long after Helen's gentle, regular breathingannounced her chum asleep. There were few other sounds about thedormitory. A door shut softly in the distance. Somewhere a dog barkedonce. Ruth was not sleepy at all. The day's doings passed in a notunpleasant procession through her mind. 

It seemed a week--yes! a month--since she had left the Red Mill thatmorning. She again went over the pleasant road with the Camerons andMrs. Murchiston to Cheslow. She remembered their conversation withgood Dr. Davison, and wondered if by any possibility the time wouldcome when poor Mercy Curtis could go to school--perhaps come to thisvery Briarwood Hall. 

The long ride on the train to Lake Osago was likewise repeated inRuth's mind; then the trip by boat to Portageton. She could not failto recount the mysterious behavior of the big man who played the harpin the boat orchestra, and Mademoiselle Picolet. And while thesethoughts were following in slow procession through her mind shesuddenly became aware of a sound without. The nearest window wasopen--the lower sash raised to its full height. It was a warm andwindless night. 

The sound was repeated. Ruth raised her head from the pillow. It wasa faint scratching--at the door, or at the window? She could not tell. 

Ruth lay down again; then she sat upright in her bed as the soundcontinued. Every other noise about the house now seemed stilled. Thedog did not bark. There was no rustle in the trees that shaded thecampus. Where was that sound? At the door?

Ruth was not afraid--only curious. If somebody was trying to attracther attention--if somebody wished to communicate with her, to get intothe room----

She hopped out of bed. Helen still slept as calmly as though she wasin her own bed at home. Ruth went softly to the door. She had latchedit when they came in. Now she pushed the bolt back softly. Was therea rustle and a soft whisper behind the panels?

Suddenly, as the fastening was removed, the door was pushed inward. Ruth stepped back. Had she been of a very nervous disposition, shewould have cried aloud in fright, for two figures all in white stood atthe door. 

"Hush!" commanded the taller of the two shrouded figures. "Not a word. "

Thus commanded, and half frightened, as well as wholly amazed, Ruthremained passive. The two white figures entered; two more followed;two more followed in turn, until there were eight couples--girls andall shrouded in sheets, with pillow-case hoods over their heads, inwhich were cut small "eyes"--within the duet room. Somebody closed thedoor. Somebody else motioned Ruth to awaken Helen. 

Ruth hesitated. She at once supposed that some of their school-fellowsmeant to haze them; but she did not know how her chum would take such astartling awakening from sound sleep. She knew that, had she beenasleep herself and opened her eyes to see these shrouded figuresgathered about her bed, she would have been frightened beyondexpression. 

"Don't let her see you first!" gasped Ruth, affrightedly. 

Instantly two of the girls seized her and, as she involuntarily openedher lips to scream, one thrust a ball of clean rags into her mouth, thrusting it in so far that it effectually gagged her, nor could sheexpel the ball from her mouth. It was not a cruel act, but it wasawfully uncomfortable, and being held firmly by her two assailants, Ruth could do nothing, either in her own behalf, or for Helen. 

But she was determined not to cry. These big girls called them"Infants, " and Ruth Fielding determined not to deserve the name. Shehad no idea that the hazing party would really hurt them; they wouldhave for their principal object the frightening of the new-comers toBriarwood Hall; and, secondarily, they would try to make Ruth and Helenappear just as ridiculous as possible. 

Ruth was sorry in a moment that she had breathed a syllable aloud; forshe was not allowed to awaken Helen. Instead, a girl went to eitherside of the bed and leaned over Ruth's sleeping chum. The tall, peakedcaps made of the pillow-cases looked awful enough, and Ruth was in areally unhappy state of mind. All for Helen's sake, too. She hadopened the door to these thoughtless girls. If she only had not doneit!

Suddenly Helen started upright in bed. Her black eyes glared for amoment as she beheld the row of sheeted figures. But her lips onlyopened to emit a single "Oh!"

"Silence!" commanded one of the figures leaning over the bed, and Ruth, whose ears were sharpened now, believed that she recognized Mary Cox'svoice. She immediately decided that these girls who had come to hazethem were the very Juniors who had been so nice to them thatevening--"The Fox" and her fellow-members of the Upedes. But Ruth wasmore interested just then in the manner in which Helen was going totake her sudden awakening. 

Fortunately her chum seemed quite prepared for the visitation. Afterher first involuntary cry, she remained silent, and she even smiledacross the footboard at Ruth, who, gagged and held captive, wascertainly in no pleasant situation. The thought flashed into Ruth'smind: "Did Helen have reason for expecting this visit, and not warn_me_?"

"Up!" commanded the previous speaker among the white-robed company. "Your doom awaits you. "

Helen put her bare feet out of bed, but was allowed to put her slipperson. The chums were in their night apparel only. Fortunately the airbreathed in at the open window was warm. So there was no danger oftheir getting cold. 

The two new girls were placed side by side. Helen was not gagged asRuth was; but, of course, she had uttered only that single startled crywhen she awoke. There was great solemnity among the shrouded figuresas the chums stood in their midst. The girl who had previously spoken(and whom Ruth was quite positive was Mary Cox--for she seemed to bethe leader and prime mover in this event) swept everything off thetable and mounted upon it, where she sat cross-legged--like a tailor, or a Turk. 

"Bring the culprits before the throne!" she commanded, in a sepulchralvoice. 

Helen actually giggled. But Ruth did not feel much like laughing. Theball of rags in her mouth had begun to hurt her, and she was heldtightly by her two guards so that she could not have an instant'sfreedom. She was not, in addition, quite sure that these girls wouldnot attempt to haze their prisoners in some unbecoming, or dangerous, way. Therefore, she was not undisturbed in her mind as she stood inthe midst of the shrouded company of her school-fellows. 

CHAPTER X

SOMETHING MORE THAN GHOSTS

Helen pinched Ruth's arm. It was plain that her guards did not holdHelen as tightly as they did Ruth. And why was _that_? Ruth thought. Could it be possible that her chum had had warning of this midnightvisitation?

Not that Ruth felt very much fear of the outcome of the exercises; butthe possibility that her old friend had kept any secret knowledge ofthe raid from her troubled Ruth immensely. Since they had come amongthe girls of Briarwood Hall--and that so few hours before--Ruth feltthat she and Helen were not so close together. There was danger oftheir drifting apart, and the possibility troubled Ruth Fieldingexceedingly. 

The thought of it now, however, was but momentary. Naturally she wasvitally interested in what was about to be done to her by the party ofhazers. 

"I am pained, " said the girl sitting on the table, "that one of theneophytes comes before us with a bigger mouthful than she can swallow. If she understands fully that a single word above a whisper--or anyword at all unless she is addressed by the Sisters--will be punished byher being instantly corked up again, the gag may be removed. Do youunderstand, Neophyte? Nod once!"

Ruth, glad to get rid of the unpleasant mouthful on any terms, noddedvigorously. Immediately her captors let go of her arms and one of thempulled the "stopper" out of her mouth. 

"Now, remember!" uttered the girl on the table, warningly. "A wordaloud and the plug goes back. " Helen giggled again, but Ruth didn'tfeel like laughing herself. "Now, culprits!" continued the leader ofthe hazing party, "you must be judged for your temerity. How _dared_you come to Briarwood Hall, Infants?"

"Please, Ma'am, " whispered Helen, who seemed to think the whole affaira great lark, "our guardians sent us here. We are not responsible. "

"You may not so easily escape responsibility for your acts, " hissed thegirl on the table. "Those who enter Briarwood Hall must showthemselves worthy of the high honor. It takes courage to come underthe eye of Mrs. Tellingham; it takes supernatural courage to come underthe eye of Picolet!"

"If she wasn't out of the house to-night you may believe we wouldn't beout of bed, " murmured another of the midnight visitors, whom Ruth wasquite sure was Belle Tingley. 

"And I hope you made no mistake about _that_, Miss!" snapped the girlon the table. "_You_ went to her door. "

"And knocked, and asked for toothache drops, " giggled another of theshrouded figures. 

"And she wasn't there. I pushed the door open, " muttered the othergirl. "I know she went out. I heard the door open and shut half anhour before. "

"She's a sly one, she is, " declared the girl on the table. "But, enough of Picolet. It is these small infants we have to judge; notthat old cat. We say they have shown temerity in coming toBriarwood--is it not so, friends and fellow members--ahem! is it notso?"

There was a responsive giggle from the shrouded figures about the room. 

"Then punishment must be the portion of these Infants, " declared theforemost hazer. "They claim that they were sent here against theirwill and that it was not reckless bravery that brought them to thesescholastic halls. Let them prove their courage then--what say theSisters?"

The Sisters giggled a good deal, but the majority seemed to be of theopinion that proof of the Infants' courage should be exacted. 

"Then let the Golden Goblet be brought, " commanded the leader, hervoice still carefully lowered, for even if Miss Picolet was out of thedormitory, Miss Scrimp, the matron, was asleep in her own room, likewise on the lower floor of the building. Somebody produced a vasewhich had evidently been covered with bright gold-foil for theoccasion. "Here, " said the leader, holding the vase out to Helen. "Take this Golden Goblet and fill it at the fountain on the campus. You will be taken down to the door by the guards, who will await yourreturn and will bring you back again. And remember! Silence!"

The lights all around the campus had gone out ere this. There was nomoon, and although it was a clear night, with countless stars in theheavens, it seemed dark and lonely indeed down there under the treesbetween the school buildings. 

"Do not hesitate, Infant!" commanded the leader of the hazing party. "Nor shall you think to befool us, Miss! Take the Golden Goblet, andfill and drink at the fountain. But leave the goblet there, that wemay know you have accomplished the task set you!"

This was said most solemnly; but the solemnity would not have botheredHelen Cameron at all, had the task been given to somebody else! Thethought of venturing out there in the dark on the campus rather quelledher propensity for giggling. 

But there seemed to be no way of begging off from the trial. Helencast a look of pleading at her chum; but what could Ruth do? She wassurprised that the task had not been given to her instead; she believedthat these girls were really more friendly in feeling toward Helen thantoward herself. At least, it was Mary Cox on the table, and Mary Coxhad shown Helen much more attention than she had Ruth. 

Two of the sheeted visitors seized Helen again and led her softly outof the room. A sentinel had been left in the corridor, and the wordwas whispered that all was silent in the house; Miss Scrimp was knownto be a heavy sleeper, and the French teacher was certainly absent fromher room. 

The girls led Helen downstairs and to the outer door. This opened witha spring lock. The guards whispered that they would remain to awaither return, and the new girl was pushed out of doors, with nothing overher nightgown but a wrapper, and only slippers on her feet. 

Although there was little breeze now, it was not cold. But it was darkunder the trees. Ruth, who could look out of the windows above, wondered how her chum was getting on. To go clear to the center of thecampus with that vase, and leave it at the foot of the figuresurmounting the fountain, was no pleasant experience, Ruth felt. 

The minutes passed slowly, the girls in their shrouds whispering amongthemselves. Suddenly there came a sound from outside--a pattering ofrunning feet on the cement walk. Ruth sprang to the nearest window inspite of the commands of the hazing party. Helen was running towardthe house at a speed which betrayed her agitation. Besides, Ruth couldhear her sobbing under her breath:

"Oh, oh, oh!"

"You've scared her half to death!" exclaimed Ruth, angrily, as thegirls seized her. 

"Put in the stopper!" commanded the girl who had seated herself on thetable, and instantly the ball of rags was driven into Ruth's mouthagain and she was held, in spite of her struggles, by her captors. 

Ruth was angry now. Helen had been tricked into going to the fountain, and by some means the hazers had frightened her on her journey. But itwas a couple of minutes before her chum was brought back to the room. Helen was shivering and sobbing between the guards--indeed they heldher up, for she would have fallen. 

"What's the matter with the great booby?" demanded the girl on thetable. 

"She--she says she heard something, or saw something, at the fountain, "said one of the other girls, in a quavering voice. 

"Of course she did--they always do, " declared the leader. "Isn't thefountain haunted? We know it is so. "

This was all said for effect, and to impress _her_, Ruth knew. But shetried to go to Helen. They held her back, however, and she could notspeak. 

"Did the Neophyte go to the fountain?" demanded the leader, sternly. 

Helen, in spite of her tears, nodded vigorously. 

"Did she drink of the water there?"

"I--I was drinking it when I--I heard somebody----"

"The ghost of the very beautiful woman whose statue adorns thefountain, " declared Mary Cox, if it were she, in a sepulchral voice. 

Ruth knew now why the story of the fountain had been told them earlierin the evening, but personally she had not been much impressed by itthen, nor was she frightened now. She was only indignant that Helenand she should be treated so--and by these very girls for whom her chumhad conceived such a fancy. 

Helen was still trembling. They let her sit down upon her bed, andRuth wanted to go to her more than ever, and comfort her. But the girlon the table brought her up short. 

"Now, Miss!" she exclaimed. "You are the next. The first Infant hasleft the Golden Goblet at the fountain--you _did_ leave it there;didn't you, you 'fraid-cat?" she demanded sharply, of Helen. Helenbobbed her head and sobbed. "Then, " said the leader of the hazingparty, "you go and bring it here. "

Ruth stared at her in surprise. She did not move. 

"Take out her gag. Lead her to the door. If she does not come backwith the Golden Goblet, lock her out and let her cool her temper tillmorning on the grass, " said the girl on the table, cruelly. "And ifshe stirs up trouble, she'll wish she had never come to Briarwood!"

CHAPTER XI

THE VOICE OF THE HARP

"Among two hundred girls there are bound to be girls of a good manydifferent kinds. " So had said Mrs. Tellingham when Ruth Fielding andher chum presented themselves before the Preceptress not many hoursbefore. And Ruth saw plainly that some of these shrouded and maskedfigures, at least, were of the kind against whom Mrs. Tellingham hadquietly warned them. These were not alone careless and thoughtless, however; but the girl whom Ruth believed to be Mary Cox, their whilomfriend and guide, was cruel likewise. 

Ruth Fielding was no coward. She believed these girls had arranged toterrify their victims by some manifestation at the fountain--why, otherwise, had they sent Helen there and now were determined to makeRuth repeat the experience? Nor was it necessary for the leader of thecrew of hazers to remind the girl from the Red Mill how unpleasant theycould make it for her if the dared report them to the teachers. 

"Now, First Neophyte!" exclaimed the leader of their visitors. "Wheredid you leave the Golden Goblet?"

"On the pedestal, right between the feet of the figure, " sobbed Helen. 

"You hear?" repeated the other, turning her shrouded face to Ruth. "Then go, drink likewise of the fountain, and bring back the goblet. Failure to perform this task will be punished not only in the present, but in the future. Take her away--and remember your orders, guards. "

The door was opened ever so quietly and the sentinel outside assuredthem that nobody had stirred. All had been so far conducted socarefully that even the other girls not in the plot were not awakened. As Ruth was led past the door of the larger room, which she knew MaryCox and her three chums occupied, she heard the unmistakable snoring ofa sound sleeper within. It made her doubt if, after all, those fourwho had appeared so friendly to Helen and herself that evening, wereamong the hazers; and she heard one of her guards whisper:

"Miss Picolet never has to look into _that_ room to learn if they'reasleep. Listen to Heavy, will you?"

But this puzzlement did not stick in Ruth's mind for long; the guardshustled her down the stairs and the outer door was opened. 

"If the cat should suddenly come back, wouldn't we just _catch_ it?"whispered one girl to the other. 

"Now, don't you be forever and ever going to that fountain, " said theother to Ruth. "For if you are long, we'll just shut the door on youand run back. "

As she spoke she let go of Ruth's arm and jerked the gag out of hermouth. Then the two pushed the new girl out of the door and closed itsoftly. Ruth could hear them whispering together behind the panels. 

Like Helen, she had been given her bath-gown. She was not cold. Butit was truth that the memory of her chum's state of mind when she hadcome back from the visit to the fountain, gave Ruth Fielding an actualchill. Helen had set out upon _her_ venture without much worriment ofmind; but she had been badly frightened. Ruth believed this fright hadbeen wickedly planned by the hazing crew of girls; nevertheless shecould not help being troubled in her own mind as she looked out intothe dimness of the campus. 

Not a sound rose from this court between the buildings. A few dimnight-lights were visible in the windows about the campus; but thelamps that illumined the walks and the park itself were burned out. The breeze was so faint that it did not rustle the smallest branches ofthe trees. There was not a sound from anywhere upon the campus. 

Remembering the promise of the two girls who had thrust her out of thehouse, Ruth thought it best for her to get the unpleasant business overas quickly as possible. Although she could not see the sunken fountainfrom the steps of the dormitory where she stood, she knew which path totake to get to it the quickest. She started along this path at once, walking until she was surely out of view of the girls in the windowsabove, and then running to the fountain. She had some objection togiving her new schoolmates the satisfaction of seeing that she was atall frightened by this midnight jaunt. 

She sped along the path and there was the statue looming right beforeher. The trickle of the water, spouting into the basin, made a low andpleasant sound. Nothing moved about the fountain. 

"Perhaps, after all, Helen only _imagined_ there was somebody here, "thought Ruth, and she pattered down the steps in her slippers, and soclimbed upon the marble ledge from which she could reach the gildedgoblet which was, as Helen had declared, placed between the feet of themarble statue. 

And then, suddenly, there was a rustle near at hand. Was that awhisper--a sharp, muffled gasp? Ruth was startled, indeed, andshuddered so that the "goose-flesh" seemed to start all over her. Nevertheless, she clutched the goblet firmly and held it beneath one ofthe spouts of the fountain. She was convinced that if there wasanybody behind the figure of marble, he was there for the expresspurpose of frightening her--and she was determined not to be frightened. 

The goblet was quickly filled and Ruth held it to her lips. She mightbe watched, and she was determined to obey the mandate of the maskedleader of the hazing party. She would not give them the right to saythat _she_ was panic-stricken. 

And then, with an unexpectedness that held her for an instantspellbound, she heard a hasty hand sweep the taut strings of a harp!She was directly below the figure and--if the truth must be told--shelooked up in horror, expecting to see the marble representation of aharp vibrating under that sudden stroke!

There was no movement, of course, in the marble. There was no furthersound about the fountain. But the echo of that crash of music vibratedacross the campus and died away hollowly between the buildings. It hadbeen no sound called up by her imagination; the harp had been soundedwith a sure and heavy hand. 

Ruth Fielding confessed her terror now on the instant. When power ofmovement returned to her, she leaped from the basin's edge, scurried upthe steps to the path, and dashed at top speed for the dormitory, bearing the goblet in one hand and catching up the draperies of herlong garment so as not to ensnare her feet. 

She reached the building and dashed up the steps. The door was ajar, but the shrouded guards were nowhere visible. She burst into the hall, banged the door after her, and ran up the stairs in blind terror, withno care for anybody, or anything else! Into the room at the end of thecorridor she hurried, and found it----

Deserted, save for her chum, Helen Cameron, cowering in her bed. Themasked and shrouded figures were gone, and Ruth found herself standing, panting and gasping, in the middle of the room, with the half-filledgoblet in her hand, her heart beating as though it would burst. 

CHAPTER XII

THE MYSTERY DEEPENS

There was some movement downstairs now. Ruth Fielding heard a dooropen and a voice speak in the lower corridor. Perhaps it was MissScrimp, the matron. But every one of the skylarkers had cut to bed, and the dormitories were as still as need be. 

"Oh, Ruth!" gasped Helen, from her muffling bed clothes. "Did you hearit?"

"Did I hear what?" panted Ruth. 

"Oh! I was so frightened. There is something _dreadful_ about thatfountain. I heard whisperings and rustlings there; but the harp----"

"They did it to scare us, " declared Ruth, in both anger and relief. She _had_ been badly frightened, but she was getting control of herselfnow. 

"Then they frightened themselves, " declared Helen, sitting up in bed. "You heard the harp?"

"I should say so!"

"We were all at the window listening to hear if you would be frightenedand run, " whispered Helen. "Oh, Ruthie!"

"What's the matter, now?" demanded her chum. 

"I--I tried to help them. It was mean. I knew they were trying toscare you, and I helped them. I wasn't so scared myself as I appearedwhen I came in. "

"WHAT?"

"I don't know what's made me act so mean to you this evening, " sobbedHelen. "I'm sure I love you, Ruth. And I know you wouldn't havetreated me so. But they said they were just going to have some funwith you----"

"_Who_ said?" demanded Ruth. 

"Mary Cox--and--and the others. "

"They told you they were coming to haze us?"

"The Upedes--ye-es, " admitted Helen. "And of course, it wouldn'thave amounted to anything if that---- Oh, Ruth! was it truly the harpthat sounded?"

"How could that marble harp make any sound?" demanded Ruth, sharply. 

"But I know the girls were scared--just as scared as I was. Theyexpected nothing of the kind. And the twang of the strings soundedjust as loud as--as--well, as loud as that fat man's playing on theboat sounded. Do you remember?"

Ruth remembered. And suddenly the thought suggested by her frightenedchum entered her mind and swelled in it to vast proportions. Shecould, in fact, think of little else than this new idea. She hushedHelen as best she could. She told her she forgave her--but she said itunfeelingly and more to hush her chum than aught else. She wanted tothink out this new train of thought to its logical conclusion. 

"Hush and go to sleep, Helen, " she advised. "We shall neither of us befit to get up at rising bell. It is very late. I--I wish those girlshad remained in their own rooms, that I do!"

"But there is one thing about it, " said Helen, with half a sob and halfa chuckle. "They were more frightened than we were when they scuttledout of this room before you returned. Oh! you should have seen them. "

Ruth would say no more to her. There had been no light lit in all thistime, and now she snuggled down into her own bed. The excitement ofthe recent happenings did not long keep Helen awake; but her friend androom-mate lay for some time studying out the mystery of the campus. 

Miss Picolet was out of her room. 

The old Irishman, Tony Foyle, had mentioned chasing itinerant musiciansoff the grounds that very evening--among them a harpist. 

The evil-looking man who played the harp on board the steamship, andwho had so frightened little Miss Picolet, had followed the Frenchteacher ashore. 

Had he followed her to Briarwood Hall? Was he an enemy who plagued thelittle French teacher--perhaps blackmailed her?

These were the various ideas revolving in Ruth Fielding's head. Andthey revolved until the girl fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, andthey troubled her sleep all through the remainder of the night. Forthat the man with the harp and Miss Picolet had a rendezvous behind themarble figure on the campus fountain was the sum and substance of theconclusion which Ruth had come to. 

In the morning Ruth only mentioned these suppositions to Helen, butdiscussed them not at all with the other girls, her new school-fellows. Indeed, those girls who had set out to haze the two Infants, and hadbeen frightened by the manifestation of the sounding harp upon thecampus, were not likely to broach the subject to Ruth or Helen, either. For they had intended to surround their raid upon the new-comers' peaceof mind with more or less secrecy. 

However, sixteen frightened girls (without counting Ruth and Helen)could not be expected to keep such a mystery as this a secret amongthemselves. That the marble harp had been sounded--that the ghost ofthe campus had returned to haunt the school--was known among thestudents of Briarwood Hall before breakfast time. Jennie Stone wasquite full of it, although Ruth knew from the unimpeachable testimonyof Jennie's nose that _she_ was not among the hazers; and the soundingof the mysterious harp-strings in the middle of the night reallyendangered Heavy's appetite for breakfast. 

The members of the Upedes who had been so pleasant with them at theevening meeting seemed rather chary of speaking to Ruth and Helen how;and, anyway, the chums had enough to do to get their boxes unpacked andtheir keepsakes set about the room, and to complete varioushousekeeping arrangements. They enjoyed setting up their "goods andchattels" quite as much as they expected to; and really their schoollife began quite pleasantly despite the excitement and misunderstandingon the first night of their arrival. 

If the crowd that Ruth was so sure had hazed them were slow aboutattending on the two Infants in the West Dormitory (as their buildingwas called) there were plenty of other nice girls who looked into theduet in a friendly way, or who spoke to Ruth and Helen on the campus, or in the dining room. Miss Polk and Madge Steele were not the onlySeniors who showed the chums some attention, either; and Ruth and Helenbegan secretly to count the little buttons marked "F. C. " which theysaw, as compared with the few stars bearing the intertwined "U" and "D"of the Upedes. 

Just the same, Helen Cameron's leaning toward the lively group or girlsin their house who had (it seemed) formed their club in protest againstthe Forward Club, was still marked. The friends heard that the lastnamed association was governed by the Preceptress and teachers almostentirely. That it was "poky" and "stuffy. " That some girls (notaltogether those who formed the membership of the Upedes) considered it"toadying" to join the Forward Club. And on this second day Ruth andHelen saw that the rivalry for membership between the clubs was verykeen indeed. A girl couldn't have friends among the members of boththe F. C. 's and the Upedes--that was plain. 

Many new girls arrived on this day--mostly from the Lumbertondirection. That was another reason, perhaps, why Ruth and Helen wereshown so little attention by the quartette of girls next door o them. They were all busy--even Heavy herself--in herding the new girls whomthey had entangled in the tentacles of the Upedes. The chums foundthemselves untroubled by the F. C. 's; it seemed to be a settled factamong the girls that Ruth and Helen were pledged to the Upedes. 

"But we are _not_, " Ruth Fielding said, to her friend. "I don't likethis way of doing business at all, Helen--do you?"

"Well--but what does it matter?" queried Helen, pouting. "We want toget in with a lively set; don't we? I'm sure the Upedes are nicegirls. "

"I don't like the leadership of them, " said Ruth, frankly. 

"Miss Cox?"

"Miss Cox--exactly, " said the girl from the Red Mill. 

"Oh--well--she isn't everything, " cried Helen. 

"She comes pretty near being the boss of that club--you can see that. Now, the question is, do we want to be bossed by a girl like her?"

"Then, do you want to be under the noses of the teachers, and toadyingto them all the time?" cried Helen. 

"If that is what is meant by belonging to the Forward Club, I certainlydo not, " admitted Ruth. 

"Then I don't see but you will have to start a secret society of yourown, " declared Helen, laughing somewhat ruefully. 

"And perhaps _that_ wouldn't be such a bad idea, " returned Ruth, slowly. "I understand that there are nearly thirty new girls coming toBriarwood this half who will enter the Junior classes. Of course, thePrimary pupils don't count. I talked with a couple of them at dinner. They feel just as I do about it--there is too much pulling and haulingabout these societies. They are not sure that they wish to belong toeither the Upedes or the F. C. 's. "

"But just think!" wailed Helen. "How much fun we would be cut out of!We wouldn't have any friends----"

"That's nonsense. At least, if the whole of us thirty Infants, as theycall us, flocked together by ourselves, why wouldn't we have plenty ofsociety? I'm not so sure that it wouldn't be a good idea to suggest itto the others. "

"Oh, my! would you dare?" gasped Helen. "And we've only just arrivedourselves?"

"Self-protection is the first selfish law of nature, " paraphrased Ruth, smiling; "and I'm not sure that it's a bad idea to be selfish on suchan occasion. "

"You'd just make yourself ridiculous, " scoffed Helen. "To think of acrowd of freshies getting up an order--a secret society. "

"In self-protection, " laughed Ruth. 

"I guess Mrs. Tellingham would have something to say about it, too, "declared Helen. 

It was not the subject of school clubs that was the burden of RuthFielding's thought for most of that day, however. Nor did the arrivalof so many new scholars put the main idea in her mind aside. Thistroubling thought was of Miss Picolet and the sound of the harp on thecampus at midnight. The absence of the French teacher from thedormitory, the connection of the little lady with the obese foreignerwho played the harp on the _Lanawaxa_, and the sounding of harp-stringson the campus in the middle of the night, were all dovetailed togetherin Ruth Fielding's mind. She wondered what the mystery meant. 

She saw Tony Foyle cleaning the campus lanterns during the day, and shestopped and spoke to him. 

"I heard you tell Jennie Stone last night that you had to drive streetmusicians away from the school grounds, sir?" said Ruth, quietly. "Wasthere a man with a harp among them?"

"Sure an' there was, " declared Tony, nodding. "And he was a sassydago, at that! 'Tis well I'm a mon who kapes his temper, or 'twouldha' gone har-r-rd wid him. "

"A big man, was he, Mr. Foyle?" asked Ruth. 

"What had that to do wid it?" demanded the old man, belligerently. "When the Foyles' dander is riz it ain't size that's goin' to stop wano' that name from pitchin' into an' wallopin' the biggest felly thativer stepped. He was big, " he added; "but I've seen bigger. Him an'his red vest--and jabberin' like the foreign monkey he was. I'll showhim!"

Ruth left Tony shaking his head and muttering angrily as he pursued hisoccupation. Ruth found herself deeply interested in the mystery of thecampus; but if she had actually solved the problem of the sounding ofthe harp at midnight, the reason for the happening, and what reallybrought that remarkable manifestation about, was as deep a puzzle toher as before. 

CHAPTER XIII

BEGINNINGS

Youth adapts itself easily and naturally to all change. Ruth Fieldingand her chum, before that second evening at Briarwood Hall drew in, felt as though they had known the place for months and some of thegirls all their lives. It was thus the most natural thing in the worldto assemble at meals when the school-bell tapped its summons, to standwhile the grace was being said, to chatter and laugh with those at thetable at which they sat, to speak and laugh with the waitresses, andwith old Tony Foyle, and with Miss Scrimp, the matron of their house, and to bow respectfully to Miss Picolet, Miss Kennedy, the Englishteacher; Miss O'Hara, before whom Ruth and Helen would come inmathematics, and the other teachers as they learned their names. 

Dr. Tellingham, although affording some little amusement for the pupilsbecause of his personal peculiarities, was really considered by thegirls in general a deeply learned man, and when he chanced to trot by agroup of the students on the campus, in his stoop-shouldered, purblindway, their voices became hushed and they looked after him as though hereally was all he pretended to be--or all he thought he was. He delvedin histories--ate, slept, and seemed to draw the breath of his nostrilsfrom histories. That the pamphlets and books he wrote were of trivialimportance, and seldom if ever saw the light of print, was not mademanifest to the Briarwood girls in general. 

Ruth and Helen were not unpopular from the start. Helen was so prettyand so vivacious, that she was bound to gather around her almost atonce those girls who were the more easily attracted by such a nature;while for Ruth's part, the little Primes found that she was both kindand loving. She did not snub the smaller girls who came to her for anyhelp, and before this day was over (which was Friday) they began tosteal into the chums' duet, in twos and threes, to talk with RuthFielding. It had been so at the school near the Red Mill, and Ruth wasglad the little folk took to her. 

Late in the afternoon the two friends from Cheslow went out to the mainentrance of the grounds to meet Old Dolliver's stage from Seven Oaks. It had been noised abroad that a whole _nursery_ of Infants wasexpected by that conveyance, and Mary Cox and Madge Steele, each withher respective committee, were in waiting to greet the new-comers onbehalf of their separate societies. 

"And we'll welcome them as fellow-infants, " whispered Ruth to Helen. "Let's hold a reception in our room this evening to all the newcomers. What say, Helen?"

Her chum was a little doubtful as to the wisdom of this course. Shedid not like to offend their friends in the Upedes. Yet the suggestionattracted Helen, too. 

"I suppose if we freshmen stick together we'll have a better time, after all, " she agreed. 

As the time for the appearance of the stage drew near, approximatelyhalf the school was gathered to see the Infants disembark from OldDolliver's Ark. Mary Cox arranged her Upedes on one side of the pathand they began to sing:

 "Uncle Noah, he drove an Ark-- One wide river to cross! He made a landing at Briarwood Park-- One wide river to cross! One wide river! One wide river of Jordan! One wide river! One wide river to cross!"

Old Dolliver, all one wide grin and flapping duster, drove his bonyhorses to the stopping place with a flourish. 

"Here we be!" he croaked. "The old craft is jest a-bulgin' over withInfants. "

Mary Cox pulled open the door and the first newcomer popped out asthough she had been clinging to the handle when The Fox made themovement. 

 "The Infants got out, one by one-- One wide river to cross! First Infant bumps into a great big Stone-- One wide river to cross!"

And there really was Heavy to receive the newcomer with open arms, whosaid, while the others chanted the refrain:

"My name's Jennie Stone, and you're very welcome to Briarwood, andwhat's your name, Infant?"

The girls in the stage-coach had been forewarned by Old Dolliver as totheir probable greeting, and they took this all in good part. Theydisembarked with their bags and parcels, while Tony Foyle appeared tohelp Old Dolliver down with the heavier luggage that was strapped uponthe roof and in the boot behind. Mary Cox continued to line out thedoggerel, inventing some telling hits as she went along, while theUpedes came in strongly on the refrain. 

There was much laughter and confusion; but the arriving Infants werelined up two by two between the long rows of Briarwood girls and wereforced to march toward the Hall by this narrow path. 

"Come! we are Infants, too, " exclaimed Ruth, pulling Helen by thesleeve. "We will lead the march. "

She drew her chum away with her, and they introduced themselves to thegirls at the head of the column of freshies. 

"We are Helen Cameron and Ruth Fielding, " said Ruth, cordially. "Weonly got here yesterday, so we are Infants, too. We will take you tothe office of the Preceptress. "

So the chums bore their share of the indignity of being marched upthrough the grounds like culprits, and halted the file at the steps ofthe main building. 

"We have Duet Number 2 in the West Dormitory, " said Ruth, boldly, tothe new-comers. "When you have found your rooms and got settled--aftersupper, that will be, --you are all invited to come to our room and getacquainted with the other Infants. We're going to get as many togetherthis evening as we can. Now, _do_ come!"

"Oh, Ruth!" whispered Helen, when they were out of ear-shot of theothers. "What will the Upedes say?"

"We're not interfering with either of the school clubs, " declared herchum, emphatically. "But I guess it won't hurt us to become acquaintedwith those who are as new here as ourselves. The old girls don't feelstrange, or lost; it is these new ones that need to be made to feel athome. "

Timid for herself, Ruth had begun to develop that side of her characterwhich urged her to be bold for the general good. She appreciatedkeenly how awkward she had felt when she arrived at Briarwood the daybefore. Helen, although not lacking in kindliness, was less thoughtfulthan her chum; and she was actually less bold than her chum, too. 

Ruth made it a point to see and speak with all the new scholars whomshe could find, repeating her invitation for a meeting in her room. Whether Helen helped in this matter she did not know. Her chum was_not_ enthusiastic in the task, that was certain. And indeed, when thehour came, after supper, Helen was closeted with Mary Cox in thequartette room next door to the chamber and study which she and RuthFielding shared together. 

That Ruth felt more than a little hurt, it is unnecessary to say. Shehad felt the entering wedge between them within a few hours of theircoming to the school. The Upedes were much more friendly to Helen thanto herself, and Helen was vastly interested in Mary Cox, Belle Tingley, Lluella Fairfax, and some of the other livelier members of the Up andDoing Club. 

But, after a while Helen strolled into her own room and mingled withthe Infants who had there assembled. They had come almost to theirfull strength. There were no sessions of either the F. C. 's or theUpedes on this evening, and Miss Picolet, to whom Ruth had spoken aboutthe little reception to be held in her room, approved of it. Helen wasbound to be popular among any crowd of girls, for she was so gay andgood-tempered. But when somebody broached the subject of school clubs, Ruth was surprised that Helen should at once talk boldly for theUpedes. She really urged their cause as though she was already amember. 

"I am not at all sure that I wish to join either the Forwards or the Upand Doings, " said Ruth, quietly, when one of the other Infants askedher what she intended doing. 

"But you'll have no friends here--not among the Juniors and Seniors, atleast--if you don't join some club!" Helen exclaimed. 

"There are enough of us right here to found a society, I should say, "laughed Ruth. "And we're all in the same boat, too. "

"Yes!" agreed Sarah Fish, one of the Infants just arrived. "And whatdo these older girls really care about us? Very little, I am sure, except to strengthen their own clubs. I can see that, " she continued, being a very practical, sensible girl, and downright in speech andmanner. "Two of them came into our room at once--the girl they callThe Fox, and Miss Steele. One argued for the Forwards and the otherfor the Up and Doings. I don't want either. "

"I don't want to join either, " broke in another girl, by name PhyllisShort. "I think it would be nicer for us Infants, as they call us, tokeep together. And we're no younger than a good many of the Juniors!"

Ruth laughed. "We expect to take all _that_ good-naturedly. But Idon't like the idea of being driven into one society, or the other. And I don't mean to be, " she said, emphatically. 

"Hear! hear!" cried Miss Fish. 

"Well, I don't think it will be nice at all, " said Helen, in some heat, "to refuse to associate with the older girls here. I, for one, want toget into the real school society----"

"But suppose we start a club of our own?" interrupted the practicalSarah. 

"Why, what could just a handful of new girls do in a society? It wouldlook silly, " cried Helen. 

"We won't keep the older girls out of it, if they want to join, "laughed Sarah. 

"And there has to be a beginning to everything, " rejoined Phyllis Short. 

"I don't believe those Upedes have many more members than are right inthis room to-night, " said Ruth, quietly. "How many do we numberhere--twenty-six?"

"Twenty-six, counting your room-mate, " said Sarah. 

"Well, you can count her room-mate out, " declared Helen, sharply. "Iam not going to make myself a laughing-stock of the school by joiningany baby society. "

"Well, " said Phyllis Short, calmly. "It's always nicer, _I_ think, tobe a big frog in a little puddle than to be an unrecognised croaker ina great, big pool. "

Most of the girls laughed at that. And the suggestion of a separateclub for the Infants seemed to be well received. Ruth, however, wasvery much troubled by Helen's attitude, and she would say no morebeyond this:

"We will think of it. There is plenty of time. Only, those who feelas we do----"

"As _you_ do!" snapped Helen. 

"As _I_ do, then, if you insist, " said Ruth, bravely, "would better notpledge themselves to either the F. C. 's or the Upedes until we havetalked this new idea over. "

And with that the company broke up and the new girls went away to theirrooms. But Helen and Ruth found a barrier raised between them thatevening, and the latter sprinkled her pillow with a few quiet tearsbefore she went to sleep. 

CHAPTER XIV

THE SWEETBRIARS

Mail time!

Until Saturday morning Ruth and Helen had not realized how vital thathour was when the mail-bag came out from the Lumberton post office andthe mail was distributed by one of the teachers into a series ofpigeonholes in a tiny "office" built into the corridor at thedining-room door. The mail arrived during the breakfast hour. Onecould get her letters when she came out of the dining-room, and on thisSaturday both Ruth and Helen had letters. 

Miss Cramp, her old teacher, had written to Ruth very kindly. Therewas a letter, too, from Aunt Alvirah, addressed in her old-fashionedhand, and its contents shaky both as to spelling and grammar, but fullof love for the girl who was so greatly missed at the Red Mill. UncleJabez had even declared the first night that it seemed as though therehad been a death in the house, with Ruth gone. 

Helen had several letters, but the one that delighted her most was fromher twin brother. 

"Although, " she declared, in her usual sweet-tempered manner, "Tom'swritten it to both of us. Listen here, Ruthie!"

The new cadet at Seven Oaks began his letter: "Dead [Transcriber'snote: Dear?] Sweetbriars, " including Ruth as well as Helen in hisfriendly and brotherly effusion. He had been hazed with a vengeance onthe first night of his arrival at the Academy; he had been chummed on afellow who had already been half a year at the school and whose sisterwas a Senior at Briarwood; he had learned that lots of the olderstudents at Seven Oaks were acquainted with the Seniors at Briarwood, and that there were certain times when the two schools intermingledsocially. 

"Dear old Tom!" exclaimed Helen. "Nice of him to call us'Sweetbriars'; isn't it? I guess there's a good many thorns on _this_'sweetbriar'; 'eh, Ruthie?" and she hugged and kissed her chum withsudden fierceness. 

"And Tom says he can get permission to come over and see me someSaturday afternoon if Mrs. Tellingham will allow it. I'll have to gether to write to Major Paradell, who commands at Seven Oaks. My! itsounds just as though poor old Tom was in the army; doesn't it?" criedHelen. 

"It will be nice to have him over, " said Ruth, agreeing. "But Isuppose we'll have to meet him in the office? Or can we walk out withour 'brother'?" and she laughed. 

"We'll go to Triton Lake; Tom will take us, " said Helen, decidedly. 

"I guess Mrs. Tellingham will have something to say about that, mydear. "

Helen seemed to have forgotten the little difficulty that had troubledher chum and herself the night before, and Ruth said nothing furtherabout the Infants forming a society of their own. At least, she saidnothing about it to Helen. But Sarah Fish and Phyllis Short, and someof the other Infants, seemed determined to keep the idea alive, andthey all considered Ruth Fielding a prime mover in the conspiracy. Itwas noised abroad that neither the F. C. 's nor the Upedes were gettingmany new names enrolled for membership. 

Saturday morning the remainder of the expected new girls arrived atBriarwood, and with then came the last of the older scholars, too. There was an assembly called for two o'clock which Mrs. Tellinghamaddressed. She welcomed the new-comers, greeted the returning pupils, and briefly sketched the plans for the school year then beginning. Shewas a quick, briskly-speaking woman, who impressed the mostrattle-pated girl before her that she meant to be obeyed and that nowild prank would go unpunished. 

"Proper amusement will be supplied in due time, young ladies. For thepresent we shall all have enough to do getting settled into our places. I have heard something regarding picnics and outings for the nearfuture. Postpone all such junketing until we are pulling welltogether. And beware of demerits. Remember that ten of them, forwhatever cause, will send a girl home from Briarwood immediately. "

This about the picnics hit the Upedes. Ruth and Helen knew that theywere planning just such amusements. Helen took this interference onMrs. Tellingham's part quite to heart. 

"Isn't it mean of her?" she asked of Ruth. "If it had been the FussyCurls who wanted to go to Triton Lake, it would have been anothermatter. And--besides--I was going to write to Tom and see if hecouldn't meet us there. "

"Why, Helen; without asking Mrs. Tellingham?" cried Ruth. 

"I suppose Tom and some of his chums could _happen_ to go to TritonLake the same day we went; couldn't they?" Helen asked, laughing. "Dear me, Ruthie! Don't you begin to act the Miss Prim--please! We'llhave no fun at all if you do. "

"But we don't want to make the bad beginning of getting Mrs. Tellinghamand the teachers down on us right at the start, " said Ruth, in aworried manner. 

"I don't know but that you _are_ a Miss Prim!" ejaculated Helen. 

Ruth thought, probably, from her tone of voice, that Helen had heardsome of her friends among the Upedes already apply that term to her, Ruth. But she said nothing--only shook her head. However, the girlfrom the Red Mill did her best to dodge any subject in the future thatshe thought might cause Helen to compare her unfavorably with the girlsnext door. 

For Ruth loved her chum dearly--and loved her unselfishly, too. Helenand Tom had been so kind to her in the past--all through thosemiserable first weeks of her life at the Red Mill--that Ruth felt shecould never be really angry with Helen. It only made her sorrowful tothink that perhaps Helen, in this new and wider school life, mightdrift away from her. 

The regular program of the working days of the school included prayersin the chapel before the girls separated for their various classes. These were held at nine o'clock. But on Sunday Ruth found thatbreakfast was an hour later than usual and that at ten o'clock severalwagonettes, besides Old Dolliver's Ark, were in waiting to take thosegirls who wished to ride to the churches of the several denominationslocated in Lumberton. A teacher, or a matron, went in each vehicle, and if any of the girls preferred to walk in pleasant weather there wasalways a teacher to walk with them--for the distance was only a mile. 

Dinner was at half-past one, and at three there was a Sabbath School, conducted by Mrs. Tellingham herself, assisted by most of the teachers, in the large assembly hall. At night there was a service of music anda lecture in the chapel, too. The teacher of music played the organ, and there was a small string orchestra made up of the girls themselves, and a chorus to lead the singing. 

This service Ruth found delightful, for she had always loved music andnever before had she had the opportunity of studying it under anyteacher. Her voice was sweet and strong, however; and she had a trueear. At the end of the service Miss Maconahay, the organist, came andspoke to her and advised her that, providing she would give some timeto it, there was a chance for her to become a member of the chorus and, if she showed improvement, she might even join the Glee Club. 

On Monday school began in earnest. Ruth and Helen were side by side inevery class. What study one took up, the other voted for. The factthat they had to work hard--especially at first--kept Ruth and Helentogether, and during the first week neither had much time for anysociety at all. Between supper and bedtime each evening theyfaithfully worked at their lessons for the ensuing day and every hourof daylight brought its separate duty. There seemed to be littleopportunity for idle hands to find mischief at Briarwood Hall. 

Mrs. Tellingham, however, did not propose that the girls should be soclosely confined by their studies that their physical health would beneglected. Those girls who stood well in their classes found at leasttwo hours each day for outdoor play or gym work. The tennis courts atBriarwood were in splendid shape. Helen already was a fair player; butRuth had never held a racket in her hand until she was introduced tothe game by her chum during this first week at school. 

The girl from the Red Mill was quick and active. She learned the rulesof play and proved that her eye was good and that she had judgmentbefore they had played an hour. She knew how to leap and run, too, having been country bred and used to an active life. 

"Oh, dear me!" gasped Helen, out of breath. "You are tireless, Ruth. Why, you'll be an athlete here. "

"This is great fun, Helen, " declared her chum, "I believe I can learnto play _this_ game. "

"Learn to play!" gasped Helen. "Why, all you want is practice to beatTom himself, I believe. You'll be a crack player, Ruthie, " prophesiedher friend. 

It was while they were loitering on the tennis courts after the gamethat Sarah Fish and Phyllis Short, with a number of the other Infants, joined them. Sarah came out bluntly with:

"When are we going to form our club, Ruth Fielding? I think we shoulddo it at once. I've told both the Forwards and the Upedes that I amnot in the market. I guess they'll let me alone now. "

"I think they will, " said Helen, sharply. "At least, the Upedes don'twant you, Miss. "

"You seem to knew exactly what they _do_ want, " said Sarah, good-naturedly. "Have you joined them?"

"I intend to, " declared Helen. 

"Oh, Helen!" ejaculated Ruth. 

"Yes, I am, " said Miss Cameron. "And I am not going to join any babysociety, " and so walked off in evident ill-humor. 

Therefore the new club was not formed in the Number 2 Duet Room in theWest Dormitory. The Infants considered Ruth the prime mover in theclub, however, and that evening she was put in the chair to preside atthe informal session held in the quartette in the East Dormitoryoccupied by Sarah Fish and three other Infants. She was made, too, amember of the Committee on Organization which was elected to draw up aConstitution and By-Laws, and was likewise one of three to wait on Mrs. Tellingham and gain permission to use one of the small assembly roomsfor meetings. 

And then came up the subject of a name for the society. It was notintended that the club should be only for new scholars; for the newscholars would in time be old scholars. And the company of girls whohad gathered in Sarah's room had no great or important motive in theirminds regarding the association. Its object was social and forself-improvement simply. 

"And so let's find a name that doesn't sound bigger than we are, " saidSarah. "The Forward Club sounds very solid and is quite literary, Iunderstand. What those Upedes stand for except raising particular SamHill, as my grandmother would say, I don't know. What do _you_ say, Ruth Fielding? It's your idea, and you ought to christen it. "

"I don't know that I ought, " Ruth returned. "I don't believe in oneperson doing too much in any society. "

"Give us a name. It won't hurt you if we vote it down, " urged Sarah. 

Now Ruth had been thinking of a certain name for the new society forsome days. It had been suggested by Tom Cameron's letter to Helen. She was almost afraid to offer it, but she did. "Sweetbriars, " shesaid, blushing deeply. 

"Dandy!" exclaimed Phyllis Short. 

"Goody-good!" cried somebody else. "We're at Briarwood Hall, and why_not_ Sweetbriars?"

"Good name for initials, too, " declared the practical Sarah Fish. "Make two words of it--Sweet and Briars. The 'S. B. 's '--not bad that, eh? What say?"

It was unanimous. And so the Sweetbriars were christened. 

CHAPTER XV

THE NIGHT OF THE HARPOCRATES

It was from Heavy Stone that Ruth first learned of an approachingfestival, although her own room-mate was the prime mover in the fete. But of late she and Helen had had little in common outside of studyhours and the classes which they both attended. Since the launching ofthe Sweetbriars Helen had deliberately sought society among the Upedes, and especially among the quartette who dwelt next door to the chums. 

"And she is going to have almond cakes. She says she has an old nursenamed Babette who makes the most de-lic-i-ous almond cakes--Is that so, Ruth Fielding?"

Heavy had been enthusiastically discussing this subject with hernearest neighbor on the other side from Ruth, at the dining table. ButRuth had caught the name of "Babette" and knew that Heavy spoke ofHelen Cameron. 

"Is what so?" she asked the plump girl. 

"Why, it's about your spoon's box from home. I told _you_, you know, to be sure and have the folks send you one; but Helen Cameron's gotahead of you. And whisper!" pursued Jennie Stone, in a lowered tone, "tell her not to invite too many girls to the Night of Harpocrates. Remember!"

Ruth was a bit puzzled at first. Then she remembered that Harpocrateswas the Egyptian god of silence, and that his sign was a rose. Theexpression "sub-rosa" comes from that root, or "under the rose. " Itwas evident that there were to be "midnight orgies" when Helen'sgoodies came from home. 

One of the quartettes on their corridor had indulged in a fudge partyafter hours already, and Ruth had been invited to be present. But shefound that Helen was not going, so she refused. Besides, she was verydoubtful about the propriety of joining in these forbidden pleasures. All the girls broke that retiring rule more or less--or so it seemed. But Miss Picolet could give such offenders black marks if she wished, and Ruth craved a clean sheet in deportment at the end of the half. 

She wondered how and when Helen proposed to hold the "supper sub-rosa";but she would not ask. Not even when the great hamper arrived (beingbrought up from Lumberton by Old Dolliver, who only drove his stageevery other day to Seven Oaks at this time of year) did she ask Helen asingle question. Tony Foyle brought the hamper up to Duet Two in theWest Dormitory and it just fitted into the bottom of Helen's closet. Heavy could not keep away from the door of the room; whenever the doorwas opened and Ruth raised her eyes from the table where she was atwork, there was the broad, pink and white face of the fat girl, hereyes rolling in anticipation of the good things--Mary Cox declaredHeavy fairly "drooled at the mouth!"

The arrival of the hamper was not unnoticed by the sharp eyes of MissPicolet; but advised by the wily Miss Cox, Helen unpacked a certainportion of the good things and, during the afternoon, asked permissionof Miss Scrimp to make tea and invite some of the girls to the duet tosample her goodies. The French teacher was propitiated by the gift ofa particular almond cake, frosted, which Helen carried down to her roomand begged her to accept. Helen could be very nice indeed, if shewished to be; indeed, she had no reason to be otherwise to MissPicolet. And the teacher had reason for liking Helen, as she had shownmuch aptitude for the particular branch of study which Miss Picolettaught. 

But although most of the girls In the West Dormitory, and some others, were asked to Helen's tea (at which Ruth likewise did the honors, and"helped pour") there was an undercurrent of joking and innuendo amongcertain of the visitors that showed they had knowledge of furtherhidden goodies which would, at fit and proper season, be divulged. Jennie Stone, gobbling almond cakes and chocolate, said to Ruth:

"If this is a fair sample of what is to be divulged upon the Night ofHarpocrates, I shall fast on that day--now mind!"

When the girls had gone Ruth asked her chum, point-blank, if sheproposed to have a midnight supper. 

"A regular debauch!" declared Helen, laughing. "Now, don't be prim andprudish about it, Ruthie. I won't have it in here if you don'twant----"

"Why not?" demanded Ruth, quickly. "Don't think of going to any otherroom. "

"Well--I didn't know, " stammered her chum. "You being such a sticklerfor the rules, Ruth. You know, if we _should_ get into trouble----"

"Do you think that _I_ would complain?" asked Ruth, proudly. "Don'tyou trust me any more, Helen?"

"Oh, Ruthie! what nonsense!" cried her chum, throwing her arms aboutRuth Fielding's neck. "I know you'd be as true as steel. "

"I did not think the suggestion could have come from your own heart, Helen, " declared Ruth. 

So the second night thereafter was set for the "sub-rosa supper. "Slily the chums borrowed such plates and cups as the other girls hadhidden away. Not a few quartette rooms possessed tea-sets, they beingthe joint possession of the occupants of that particular study. Atretiring bell on this eventful night all things were ready, including aspirit lamp on which to make chocolate, hidden away in Helen Cameron'sshirt-waist box. 

Ruth and Helen went to bed after removing their frocks and shoes onlyand waited to hear the "cheep, cheep" of Miss Scrimp's squeaky shoes asshe passed up through the house, turning down the hall lights, and thenwent down again. The hour for the girls to gather was set forhalf-past ten. First of all, however, The Fox was to go down andlisten at Miss Picolet's door to make sure that she had gone to bed. Then Miss Cox was to tap softly but distinctly at the door of eachinvited guest as she came back to their corridor. 

Meanwhile Helen and Ruth popped out of bed (it had been hard to liethere for more than an hour, waiting) and began to lay out the things. The bedspreads were laid back over the foot of each bed and the feastwas laid out upon the bed-clothes. Mary Cox warned them to have thespreads ready to smooth up over the contraband goodies, should theFrench teacher get wind of the orgy. 

"Forewarned is forearmed, " urged Mary Cox. "We know what old Picolet_is_!"

"But 'four-armed' doesn't always mean 'fore-handed', " chuckled JennieStone. 

"Nor quadrumanous!" snapped the Fox. "If _you_ had four hands, Heavy, there would be little chance for any of the rest of us at Helen'sparty. My goodness me! how you _would_ mow the good things away if youhad four hands instead of two. "

"It isn't that I'm really piggish, " complained Miss Stone. "It'sbecause I need more nourishment; there is so much of me, you know, Mary. "

"And if you hadn't been stuffing yourself like a Strasburg goose allyour life, there wouldn't be so much of you. Ha! it's the old story ofthe hen and the egg--which was here first? If you didn't eat so muchyou wouldn't be so big, and if you weren't so big you wouldn't eat somuch. "

All this, however, was said after the girls had begun to gather inNumber 2 duet, and Belle Tingley, who had drawn the unlucky shorttoothpick, was banished to the corridor to keep watch--but with a greatplateful of goodies and the "golden goblet" used in the hazingexercises, filled to the brim with hot chocolate. 

"Though, if Miss Picolet is awake she'll smell the brew and will be uphere instanter, " declared the Fox, crossly, as Belle insisted in havingher share of the drinkables as well as eatables. 

Miss Picolet was forgotten in the fun and the feasting, however. Therewere twenty girls in the room, and they had to sit on the floor in tworows while Ruth and Helen passed out the good things. And my! theywere good! Lovely chicken salad mayonnaise, served on a fresh lettuceleaf (the lettuce being smuggled in that very day in the chums' washbasket)--a little dab to each girl. There were little pieces ofgherkins and capers in the mayonnaise, and Heavy reveled in this dish. The most delicious slices of pink ham between soft crackers--and othersandwiches of anchovy paste and minced sardines. _These_ were the"solids. "

Cakes, sweet crackers, Babette's cookies and lady-fingers were heapedon other plates, ready to serve. 

"My!" exclaimed Lluella Fairfax, "isn't that lay-out enough to punishour poor digestive organs for a month? The last time we were caughtand brought up before Mrs. Tellingham she warned us that sweetcake andpickles were as immoral as yellow-covered novels!"

"And she proved it, too, " laughed the Fox. "She declared that a girl, or woman without a good digestion could not really fill her rightfulplace in the world and accomplish that which we are each supposed todo. Oh, the Madam always proves her point. "

"And I _was_ sick for a week afterward, " sighed Lluella. "And had totake _such_ a dose!"

At that moment, without the least forewarning, there came a smart rapon the door. The sound smote the company of whispering, laughing girlsinto a company of frightened, trembling culprits. They hardly daredbreathe, and when the commanding rap came for a second time neitherRuth nor Helen had strength enough in their limbs to go to the door. 

CHAPTER XVI

THE HAWK AMONG THE CHICKENS

Lluella and The Fox, more used to these orgies than some of the othergirls, had retained some presence of mind. Their first thought--ifthis should prove to be the teacher or the matron--was to try and savesuch of the feast as could be hidden. Each girl flung up a spread tothe pillows, and so hid the viands on the two beds. Then Mary Cox wentquickly to the door. 

The cowering girls clung to each other and waited breathlessly. Maryopened the door. There stood the abashed Belle Tingley, her plate inone hand, the gilded vase in the other, and beside her was the tinyfigure of Mademoiselle Picolet, who looked very stern indeed at The Fox. 

"I might have expected _you_ to be a ringleader in such an escapade asthis, Miss Cox, " she said, sharply, but in a low voice. "I very wellknew, Miss Cox, when the new girls came this fall that _you_ weredetermined to contaminate them if you could. Every girl here willremain in her seat after prayers in the chapel to-morrow morning. Remember!"

She whipped out a notebook and pencil and evidently wrote Mary Cox'sname at the head of her list. The Fox was furiously red and furiouslyangry. 

"I might have known you would be spying on us, Miss Picolet, " she said, bitingly. "Suppose some of us should play the spy on _you_, MissPicolet, and should run to Mrs. Tellingham with what we might discover?"

"Go to your room instantly!" exclaimed the French teacher, withindignation. "You shall have an extra demerit for _that_, Miss!"

Yet Ruth, who had been watching the teacher's face intently, saw thatshe became actually pallid, that her lips seemed to be suddenly blue, and the countless little wrinkles that covered her cheeks were moreprominent than ever before. 

Mary Cox flounced out and disappeared. The teacher pointed to thechums' waste-basket and said to Bell, the unfaithful sentinel:

"Empty your plate in that receptacle, Miss Tingley. Spill the contentsof that vase in the bowl. Now, Miss, to your room. "

Belle obeyed. So she made each girl, as she called her name and wroteit in her book, throw away the remains of her feast, and pour out thechocolate. One by one they were obliged to do this and then walksedately to their rooms. Jennie Stone was caught on the way out with amost suggestive bulge in her loose blouse, and was made to disgorge achocolate layer cake which she had sought to "save" when the unexpectedattack of the enemy occurred. 

"Fie, for shame, Miss Stone!" exclaimed the French teacher. "That ayoung lady of Briarwood Hall should be so piggish! Fie!"

But it was after all the other girls had gone and Ruth and Helen wereleft alone with her, that the little French teacher seemed to reallyshow her disappointment over the infraction of the rules by the pupilsunder her immediate charge. 

"I hoped for better things of you two young ladies, " she said, sorrowfully. "I feared for the influence over you of certain mindsamong the older scholars; but I believed you, Ruth Fielding, and you, Helen Cameron, to be too independent in character to be so easily ledby girls of really much weaker wills. For one may _will_ to do evil, or to do good, if one chooses. One need not _drift_. 

"Miss Fielding! take that basket of broken food and go down to thebasement and empty it in the bin. Miss Cameron, _you_ may go to bedagain. I will wait and see you so disposed. _Alons_!"

But before Ruth could get out of the room, and while Helen was hastilypreparing for bed, Miss Picolet noticed something "bunchy" under Ruth'sspread. She walked to the bedside and snatched back the coverlet. Thestill untasted viands were revealed. 

"Ah-ha!" exclaimed the French teacher. "At once! into the basket withthese, if you will be so kind, Miss Fielding. "

Had Heavy seen those heaps of goodies thus disposed of she must havegroaned in actual misery of spirit! But Helen, being quick in herpreparations for bed, hopped into her own couch before Miss Picoletturned around to view that corner of the room, and with Helen under thebedclothes the hidden dainties (though she _did_ mash some of them)were not revealed to the eye of the teacher, who stood grimly by thedoor as Ruth marched gravely forth with the basket of broken food. 

For a minute or two Helen was as silent as Miss Picolet; then sheventured in a very small voice:

"Miss Picolet--if you please?"

"Well, Mademoiselle?" snapped the little lady. 

"May I tell you that my chum Ruth had nothing to do with thisinfringement of the school rules? That the feast was all mine; thatshe merely partook of it because we roomed together? That she hadnothing to do with the planning of the frolic?"

"Well?"

"I thought perhaps that you might believe otherwise, " said Helen, softly, "as you made Ruth remove the--the provisions, " said Helen. "And really, she isn't at all to blame. "

"She cannot be without blame, " declared Miss Picolet, yet less harshlythan she had spoken before. "An objection from her would have stoppedthe feast before it began--is it not, Miss Cameron?"

"But she is not so _much_ to blame, Miss Picolet, " repeated Helen. 

"Of that we shall see, " returned the little lady, and waited by thedoor until Ruth returned from the basement. "Now to bed!" ejaculatedMiss Picolet. "Wait in chapel after prayers. I really hoped the girlsof my dormitory would not force me to call the attention of thePreceptress to them because of demerits this half--and I did notbelieve the trouble would start with two young ladies who had justarrived. "

So saying, she departed. But Helen whispered Ruth, before she got inbed, to help remove the remaining goodies to the box in the closet. 

"At least, we have saved this much from the wreck, " chuckled Helen. 

Ruth, however, was scarcely willing to admit that that the salvagewould repay them for the black marks both surely had earned. 

CHAPTER XVII

GOODY TWO-STICKS

To tell the truth the young ladies of the West Dormitory who attendedHelen's sub-rosa supper looked pretty blue when the rest of the schoolfiled out of chapel and left them sticking, like limpets, to theirseats. Mrs. Tellingham looked just as stern as Helen imagined shecould look, when she ended a whispered conference with Miss Picolet, and stood before the culprits. 

"Being out of bed at all hours, and stuffing one's self with all mannerof indigestible viands, is more than a crime against the school rules, young ladies, " she began. "It is a crime against common sense. Besides, I take a pride in the fact that Briarwood Hall supplies asufficient and a well-served table. Fruit at times between meals isall very well. But a sour pickle and a piece of angel cake at elevenor twelve o'clock at night would soon break down the digestivefaculties of a second Samson. 

"However, " she added grimly, "that will bring its own punishment. Ineed not trouble myself about this phase of the matter. But thatdistinct rules of the school have been broken cannot be ignored. Eachof you who were visitors at the study of Misses Fielding and Cameronlast evening after hours will have one demerit to work off by extraexercises in Latin and French. 

"Miss Cox!"

She spoke so sharply that The Fox hopped up quickly, knowing that shewas especially addressed. 

"It is reported to me by Miss Picolet that you spoke to her in a mostunladylike manner. You have two demerits to work off, instead of one. "

Mary Cox ruffled up instantly. She flounced into her seat and threwher book aside. 

"Miss Cox, " repeated the Preceptress, sharply, "I do not like yourmanner. Most of these girls are younger than you, and you are theirleader. I believe you are all members of the Up and Doing Club. Havea care. Let your club stand for something besides infractions of therules, I beg. And, when you deliberately insult the teacher who hascharge of your dormitory, you insult _me_. "

"I suppose I'm to be given no opportunity of answering Miss Picolet'sreport, or accusation?" cried Mary Fox. "I don't call it fair----"

"Silence!" exclaimed the Preceptress. "You may come to me aftersession this afternoon. Miss Cameron may work off a full demerit, andbefore the Christmas Holidays, for being the prime mover in this orgy, I am told about, " said Mrs. Tellingham, bitingly. "I understand thereare some extenuating circumstances in the case of Ruth Fielding. Shewill have one-half mark against her record--to be worked off, ofcourse. And, young ladies, I hope this will be the last time I shallsee you before me for such a matter. You are relieved for classes. "

Two unexpected things happened to Ruth Fielding that morning. As theycame out from breakfast she came face to face with Mary Cox, and theolder girl "cut" her plainly. She swept by Ruth with her head in theair and without returning the latter's nod, and although Ruth did notcare much about Mary Cox, the unkindness troubled her. The Fox hadsuch an influence over Helen!

The second surprising happening was the receipt of a letter from MercyCurtis, the lame girl. Dr. Davison's protege wrote:

"Dear Ruth:

"Mrs. Kimmons, next door, is trundling her twin babies--awfully homelylittle mites--up and down her long piazza in my wheel-chair. To whatbase uses have the mighty fallen! Do you know what your UncleJabez--Dusty Miller--has done? He had waiting for me when I got homefrom the sanitarium a pair of the loveliest ebony crutches you eversaw--with silver ferrules! I use 'em when I go out for a walk. Fancyold miserable, withered, crippled me going out for a walk! Of course, it's really a hobble yet--I hobble-gobble like a rheumatic goblin; butI may do better some day. The doctors all say so. 

"And now I'm going to surprise you, Ruth Fielding. I'm coming to seeyou--not for a mere 'how-de-do-good-bye' visit; but to stay atBriarwood Hall a while. Dr. Cranfew (he's the surgeon who helped me somuch) is at Lumberton and he says I can try school again. Publicschool he doesn't approve of for me. I don't know how they are goingto 'rig' it for me, Ruth--such wonderful things happen to me all thetime! But Dr. Davison says I am coming, and when he says a thing isgoing to happen, it happens. Like my going to the Red Mill that time. 

"And isn't old Dusty Miller good to me, too? He stops to see me everySaturday when he is in town. They miss you a lot at the Red Mill, Ruthie. I have been out once behind Dr. Davison's red and white mare, to see Aunt Alviry. We just gabbled about you all the time. Yourpullets are laying. Tell Helen 'Hullo!' for me. I expect to see yousoon, though--that is, if arrangements can be made to billet me withsomebody who doesn't mind having a Goody Two-Sticks around. 

"Now, good-bye, Ruthie, "From your fidgetty friend, "MERCY CURTIS. "

This letter delighted Ruth, and she went in search of Helen to show itto her. The chums were due at their first recitation in a very fewmoments. Ruth found Helen talking with Mary Cox and Belle Tingley onthe steps of the building in a recitation room in which Ruth and Helenwere soon to recite. Ruth heard Belle say, earnestly:

"I believe it, too. Miss Picolet wasn't downstairs in her room at all. When she caught me she came from upstairs, and that's how I didn't giveany warning. I didn't expect her from that direction and I was lookingdownstairs. "

"She had been warned, all right, " said the Fox, sharply. "It's plainenough who played the traitor. Nasty little cat!"

"I believe you, " said Belle. "And she only got half a demerit. Theyfavored her, of course. "

"But why any demerit at all, if she was a spy for Miss Picolet?"demanded Helen, in a worried tone. 

"Pshaw! that's all for a blind, " declared the Fox. 

And then all three saw Ruth at the bottom of the steps. The Fox andBelle Tingley turned away without giving Ruth a second glance, and wentinto the building. But Helen smiled frankly on Ruth as her chumapproached, and slipped an arm within her own:

"What have you got there, Ruthie?" she demanded, seeing the open letter. 

"It's from Mercy. Read it when you get a chance, " Ruth whispered, thrusting it into her chum's hand as they went in. "It's just as yousaid--Dr. Davison is going to bring it about. Mercy Curtis is comingto Briarwood, too. "

Helen said nothing at all about The Fox and her room-mate. But Ruthsaw that the Upedes--especially those who had been caught in the Frenchteacher's raid on Duet Number 2--whispered a good deal amongthemselves, and when they looked at Ruth they did not look kindly. 

After recitation, and before dinner, several of the girls deliberatelycut her as Mary Cox had. But Helen said nothing, nor would Ruth speakfirst. She saw plainly that The Fox had started the cabal against her. It made Ruth feel very unhappy, but there was nothing she could do todefend herself. 

CHAPTER XVIII

THE MYSTERY AGAIN

The organization of the Sweetbriars had gone on apace. Two generalmeetings had been held. Every new-comer to the school, who had enteredthe Junior classes, saving Helen Cameron, had joined the new society. The committee on constitution and by-laws was now ready to report andthis very afternoon Ruth and two other girls waited on Mrs. Tellinghamto ask permission to hold social meetings in one of the assembly roomson stated occasions, as the other school societies did. 

The trio of Sweetbriars had to wait a little while in the hall outsidethe library door, for Mrs. Tellingham was engaged. Mary Cox came outfirst and as she passed Ruth she tossed her head and said:

"Well, are you here to tattle about somebody else?"

Ruth was stricken speechless, and the girls with her asked wonderinglywhat the older girl had meant. 

"I--I do not know just what she means, " gasped Ruth, "only that shemeans to hurt me if she can. "

"She's mad with you, " said one, "because you started the S. B. 's andwouldn't join her old Upede Club. 

"That's it, " said the other. "Don't you mind, Miss Fielding. "

Then the maid told them they could go into the library. Mrs. Tellingham looked very grave, and sat at her desk tapping the lidthoughtfully with a pencil. This was one occasion when Dr. Tellinghamwas not present. The countenance of the Preceptress did not lighten atall when she saw Ruth come in. 

"What is it, Miss Fielding?" she asked in her brusque way. 

Ruth stated the desire of the new society briefly, and she was positivebefore Mrs. Tellingham replied at all that the mention of theSweetbriars did not please the lady. 

"You girls will fill your time so full, with societies and leagues, andwhat all, that there will be little space for studies. I am half sorrynow that I ever allowed any secret, or social clubs, to be formed atBriarwood. But while we have the Forward Club, I cannot well deny theright of other girls to form similar societies. 

"But I am not pleased with the Up and Doing Club. I understand thatevery girl but one reported out of her room after retiring bell lastevening, in the West Dormitory, was a member of the Up and Doings--andthe other girl was you, Miss Fielding!" she added sternly. "And youare a member of this new organization-- What do you call it? The 'S. B. 's, ' is it?"

"The Sweetbriars, " said Ruth bravely. "And I am sorry I did anythingto bring any cloud upon the name of the new club. I promise you, Mrs. Tellingham, that I will do nothing in the future to make you sorry thatyou sanctioned the formation of _our_ society. "

"Very well! Very well!" said the Preceptress, hastily. "You may havethe same rights, and under the same conditions, that the older clubshave. And now, Miss Fielding, stop here a moment, I have anothermatter to speak to you about. "

The other girls went away and Ruth, somewhat troubled by the manner ofMrs. Tellingham, waited her pleasure. The Preceptress took up a letterfrom her desk and read it through again. 

"Dr. Davison you know, Ruth, " she said, quietly. "He and your uncle, Mr. Jabez Potter, have arranged to send here to school a lame girlnamed Curtis------"

"My uncle!" gasped Ruth. "O, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Tellingham. Butare you sure it is my uncle who is sending Mercy Curtis?"

"With Dr. Davison--yes, " the Preceptress said, in some surprise. "Theyhave equally charged themselves with her expenses at Briarwood--if shecan remain here. You know her, of course?"

"Helen and I have talked of her almost every day, Mrs. Tellingham, "said Ruth warmly. "She is very quick and sharp. And she is muchimproved in disposition from what she used to be. "

"I hear you speak of her so kindly, with pleasure, Miss Fielding, " saidthe head of the school. "For it opens the way to a suggestion that Dr. Davison makes. He wishes Mercy Curtis to room with you. "

"With Helen and me!" cried Ruth, in delight. "Of course, I slept inMercy's room all the time she was at the Red Mill last summer, and wegot on nicely together. "

"But you do not know how Miss Cameron will receive the suggestion ofhaving a third girl in your small room?"

"Oh, Helen is so kind!" Ruth cried. "I do not believe she will object. And she is sorry for Mercy. "

"I know you have been Helen's constant companion. Do you think youhave been as good friends as you were when you came to Briarwood, Ruth?" asked Mrs. Tellingham, with sharpness. 

"Helen! Oh, I hope so, Mrs. Tellingham!" cried Ruth, in greatdistress. "I am sure I love her just the same--and always shall. "

"But she evidently finds her friends among the Upedes. Why did she notjoin this new society that you have started?"

"I--I did not mean to start it without her, " stammered Ruth. "It wasreally only my suggestion. The other Infants took it up----"

"But you named it?"

"I _did_ suggest the name, " admitted Ruth. 

"And you did not join the Up and Doing Club with your chum. "

"No, Mrs. Tellingham. Nor did I join the F. C. 's. I did not like themanner in which both societies went about making converts. I didn'tlike it the very first day we came. "

"Miss Picolet, your French teacher, told me something about Mary Coxmeeting the stage and getting hold of you two girls before you hadreached Briarwood at all. "

"Yes, ma'am. "

"By the way, " said the Preceptress, her brow clouding again and thestern look coming back into her face that had rested on it when Ruthhad first entered the room, "you had met Miss Picolet before youarrived at the school?"

"She spoke to us in the stage--yes, ma'am. "

"But before that--you had seen her?"

"Ye-es, ma'am, " said Ruth, slowly, beginning to suspect that Mrs. Tellingham's curiosity was no idle matter. 

"Where?"

"On the _Lanawaxa_--the boat coming down the lake, Mrs. Tellingham. "

"Miss Picolet was alone aboard the boat?"

Ruth signified that she was. 

"Did you see her speaking with anybody?"

"We saw a man speak to her. He was one of the musicians. Hefrightened Miss Picolet. Afterward we saw that he had followed her outupon the wharf. He was a big man who played a harp. "

"And you told this to your school-fellows after you became acquaintedhere?"

Mrs. Tellingham spoke very sternly indeed, and her gaze never leftRuth's face. The girl from the Red Mill hesitated but an instant. _She_ had never spoken of the man and Miss Picolet to anybody saveHelen; but she knew that her chum must have told all the particulars toMary Cox. 

"I--I believe we _did_ mention it to some of the girls. It impressedus as peculiar--especially as we did not know who Miss Picolet wasuntil after we were in the stage-coach with her. "

"Then you are sure you have not been one who has circulated storiesamong the girls about Miss Picolet--derogatory to her, I mean?"

"Oh, Mrs. Tellingham! Never!" cried Ruth, earnestly. 

"Do you know anything about this silly story I hear whispered that themarble harp out there on the fountain was heard to play the night youand Miss Cameron arrived here?"

"Oh!" ejaculated Ruth. 

"I see you know about it. Did you hear the sound?"

"Ye-es, ma'am, " admitted Ruth. 

"I will not ask you under what circumstances you heard it; but I _do_ask if you have any knowledge of any fact that might explain themystery?"

Ruth was silent for several moments. She was greatly worried; yet shecould understand how this whole matter had come to Mrs. Tellingham'sknowledge. Mary Cox, angry at Miss Picolet, had tried to defame her inthe mind of the Preceptress. 

Now, what Ruth _knew_ was very little indeed. What she _suspected_regarding a meeting between the French teacher and the man with theharp, at the campus fountain, was an entirely different matter. ButMrs. Tellingham had put her question so that Ruth did not have to tellher suspicions. 

"I really know nothing about it, Mrs. Tellingham, " she said, finally. 

"That is all. I do not believe you--or Miss Cameron--would willinglymalign an innocent person. I have known Miss Picolet some time, and Irespect her. If she has a secret sorrow, I respect _it_. I do notthink it is nice to make Miss Picolet's private affairs a subject forremark by the school. 

"Now, we will leave that. Sound Miss Cameron about this Mercy Curtis. If you girls will take her in, she shall come on trial. It lies withyou, and your roommate, Miss Fielding. Come to me after chapelto-morrow and tell me what you have decided. "

And so Ruth was dismissed. 

CHAPTER XIX

THE TRIUMVIRATE

Mercy Curtis came in a week. For Helen of course was only toodelighted to fall in with Mrs. Tellingham's suggestion. Duet Number 2, West Dormitory, was amply large enough for three, and Ruth gave up herbed to the cripple and slept on a couch. Helen herself could not dotoo much for the comfort of the newcomer. 

Dr. Davidson and Dr. Cranfew came with her; but really the lame girlbore the journey remarkably well. And how different she looked fromthe thin, peaked girl that Ruth and Helen remembered!

"Oh, you didn't expect to see so much flesh on my bones; did you?" saidMercy, noting their surprise, and being just as sharp and choppy in herobservations as ever. "But I'm getting wickedly and scandalously fat. And I don't often have to repeat Aunt Alviry's song of 'Oh, my back andoh, my bones!'"

Mercy went to bed on her arrival. But the next day she got about inthe room very nicely with the aid of two canes. The handsome ebonycrutches she saved for "Sunday-Best. "

Ruth arranged a meeting of the Sweetbriars to welcome the cripple, andMercy seemed really to enjoy having so many girls of her own age abouther. Helen did not bring in many members of the Upedes; indeed, justthen they all seemed to keep away from Duet Two, and none of them spoketo Ruth. That is, none save Jennie Stone. The fat girl was altogethertoo good-natured--and really too kind at heart--to treat Ruth Fieldingas Jennie's roommates did. 

"They say you went and told Picolet we were going to have the party inyour room, " Heavy said to Ruth, frankly, "and that's how you got out ofit so easily. But I tell them that's all nonsense, you know. If you'dwanted to make us trouble, you would have let Helen have the party inour room, as she wanted to, and so you could have stayed home and notbeen in it at all. "

"As she wanted to?" repeated Ruth, slowly. "Did Helen first plan tohave the supper in your quartette?"

"Of course she did. It was strictly a Upede affair--or would have beenif you hadn't been in it. But you're a good little thing, RuthFielding, and I tell them you never in this world told Picolet. "

"I did not indeed, Jennie, " said Ruth, sadly. 

"Well, you couldn't make The Fox believe that. She's sure about it, you see, " the stout girl said. "When Mary Cox wants to be mean, shecan be, now I tell you!"

Indeed, Heavy was not like the other three girls in the next room. Mary, Belle and Lluella never looked at Ruth if they could help it, andnever spoke to her. Ruth was not so much hurt over losing such girlsfor friends, for she could not honestly say she had liked them at thestart; but that they should so misjudge and injure her was anothermatter. 

She said nothing to Helen about all this; and Helen was as firmlyconvinced that Mary Cox and the other Upedes were jolly girls, as ever. Indeed, they were jolly enough; most of their larks were innocent fun, too. But it was a fact that most of those girls who received extratasks during those first few weeks of the half belonged to the Up andDoing Club. 

That Helen escaped punishment was more by good fortune than anythingelse. In the study, however, she and Ruth and Mercy had many merrytimes. Mercy kept both the other girls up to their school tasks, forall lessons seemed to come easy to the lame girl and she helped her twofriends not a little in the preparation of their own. 

"The Triumvirate" the other girls in the dormitory building called thethree girls from Cheslow. Before Thanksgiving, Ruth, Helen, and Mercybegan to stand high in their several classes. And Ruth was booked forthe Glee Club, too. She sang every Sunday in the chorus, while Helenplayed second violin in the orchestra, having taken some lessons onthat instrument before coming to Briarwood. 

Dr. Cranfew came often at first to see Mercy; but he declared at lastthat he only came socially--there was no need of medical attendance. The cripple could not go to recitations without her crutches, butsometimes in the room she walked with only Ruth's strong arm forsupport. She was getting rosy, too, and began to take exercise in thegymnasium. 

"I'll develop my biceps, if my back is crooked and my legs queer, " shedeclared. "Then, when any of those _Miss Nancy_ Seniors make fun of mebehind my back, I can punch 'em!" for there were times when Mercy'sold, cross-grained moods came upon her, and she was not so easily bornewith. 

Perhaps this fact was one of the things that drove the wedge deeperbetween Ruth and Helen. Ruth would never neglect the crippled girl. She seldom left her in the room alone. Mercy had early joined theSweetbriars, and Ruth and she went to the frequent meetings of thatsociety together, while Helen retained her membership in the Up andDoing Club and spent a deal of her time in the quartette room next door. 

Few of the girls went home for Thanksgiving, and as Mercy was not toreturn to Cheslow then, the journey being considered too arduous forher, Ruth decided not to go either. There was quite a feast made bythe school on Thanksgiving, and frost having set in a week before, skating on Triton Lake was in prospect. There was a small pondattached to the Briarwood property and Ruth tried Helen's skates there. She had been on the ice before, but not much; however, she found thatthe art came easily to her--as easily as tennis, in which, by thistime, she was very proficient. 

For the day following Thanksgiving there was a trip to Triton Lakeplanned, for that great sheet of water was ice-bound, too, and a smallsteamer had been caught 'way out in the middle of the lake, and wasfrozen in. The project to drive to the lake and skate out to thesteamer (the ice was thick enough to hold up a team of horses, andplenty of provisions had been carried out to the crew) and to have ahot lunch on the boat originated in the fertile brain of Mary Cox; butas it was not a picnic patronized only by the Upedes, Mrs. Tellinghammade no objection to it. Besides, it was vacation week, and thePreceptress was much more lenient. 

Of course, Helen was going; but Ruth had her doubts. Mercy could notgo, and the girl of the Red Mill hated to leave her poor littlecrippled friend alone. But Mercy was as sharp of perception as she wasof tongue. When Helen blurted out the story of the skating frolic, Ruth said "she would see" about going; she said she wasn't sure thatshe would care to go. 

"I'm such a new skater, you know, " she laughed. "Maybe I'd break downskating out to the steamboat, and wouldn't get there, and while all youfolks were eating that nice hot lunch I'd be freezing to death--poorlittle me!--'way out there on the ice. "

But Mercy, with her head on one side and her sharp blue eyes lookingfrom Helen to Ruth, shot out:

"Now, don't you think you're smart, Ruth Fielding? Why, I can seeright through you--just as though you were a rag of torn mosquitonetting! You won't go because I'll be left alone. "

"No, " said Ruth, but flushing. 

"Yes, " shot back Mercy. "And _I_ don't have to turn red about it, either. Oh, Ruthie, Ruthie! you can't even tell a _white one_ withoutblushing about it. "

"I--don't--know----"

"I do know!" declared Mercy. "You're going. I've got plenty to do. You girls can go on and freeze your noses and your toeses, if you like. Me for the steam-heated room and a box of bonbons. But I hope thegirls who go will be nicer to you than some of those Upedes have beenlately, Ruthie. "

Helen blushed now; but Ruth hastened to say: "Oh, don't you fuss aboutme, Mercy. Some of the Sweetbriars mean to go. This isn't confined toone club in particular. Madge Steele is going, too, and Miss Polk. And Miss Reynolds, Mrs. Tellingham's first assistant, is going with theparty. I heard all about it at supper. Poor Heavy was full of it; butshe says she can't go because she never could skate so far. Andthen--the ice might break under _her_. "

"Whisper!" added Helen, her eyes dancing. "I'll tell you somethingelse--and this I know you don't know!"

"What is it?"

"Maybe Tom will be there. Good old Tom! Just think--I haven't seenhim since we left home. Won't it be just scrumptious to see old Tomagain?"

And Ruth Fielding really thought it would be. 

CHAPTER XX

AT TRITON LAKE

So on the morning following the feast-day there were two wagonetteswaiting at the entrance to the Briarwood grounds to take the girls twomiles by road to a certain boathouse on Triton Lake. When Ruth andHelen came out of their room, leaving Mercy cozily ensconced in thewindow-seat with her books and the box of bonbons, the door of thequartette was open and a faint groan sounded from within. 

Helen's eyes twinkled, as she said: "The others have gone, but Jennie'sup in dry-dock for repairs. No wonder she wouldn't promise to be oneof the skating party. The pleasures of the table must be paid for----How do you feel now, Heavy?" she added, putting her head in at the door. 

"No better. Oh!" came back the complaining voice. "I _do_ have suchdreadful ill-fortune. I can't eat _just a little bit_ without itsdistressing me abominably!"

The chums ran down to the wagonettes and found most of the girls whowere going already there. Ruth, seeing that there was more room in thesecond carriage, whisked into it, and Helen was following her when MaryCox came up. 

"Going to get in here, Cameron?" she said. "Well, I'll get in withyou--no, I won't!" she suddenly exclaimed, seeing Ruth peering out. "Come on to the other wagonette; Belle and Lluella are there. "

For a moment Helen hesitated. Then Mary said, jerking at her sleeve:

"Come on! We want to start in a minute. I've heard from the boys andI want to tell you. They've sent a whole sleighload of things out tothe _Minnetonka_--the boat that's frozen in, you know--and music, andwe'll have great fun. Sh! Miss Reynolds don't know. She's such afuss-budget! If she knew the boys were coming--well!"

"Oh, Tom, too!" gasped Helen, delighted. Then she turned and said, ina whisper: "Ruth!"

"Come on and let that tattle-tale alone!" exclaimed Mary Cox. "Tellher, and she'll run to Miss Reynolds with it. "

Helen went with her. 

Had Ruth Fielding possessed the power of movement just then, she wouldhave gotten out of the wagon and run away to the dormitory. But shewas stricken motionless as well as speechless by her chum's defection, and before she could recover her poise the wagons had begun to move, rattling over the frozen road toward Triton Lake. 

Ah! how it hurt! For weeks Ruth had endured slights, and haughtylooks, and innuendoes from Mary Cox and her Upedes--and the girl fromthe Red Mill had accepted all uncomplainingly. She had heretoforebelieved Helen only thoughtless. But this was more than Ruth Fieldingcould bear. She was the last girl to get into the wagonette, and sheturned her head away, that her companions might not see her tears. 

The other girls chattered, and laughed, and sang, and enjoyedthemselves. Ruth Fielding passed the few minutes which elapsed duringthe drive to the boathouse in trying to stifle her sobs and remove thetraces of her emotion. She was tempted to remain in the wagonette andgo back to the school at once--for the carriages would return to town, coming out again for the party of Briarwood students late in theafternoon. 

This thought was her first intention; but as her sobs subsided she feltmore the hurt of the treatment she had received. And this hurt stirredwithin her a self-assertion that was becoming a more prominentcharacteristic of Ruth every day. Why should she relapse into tearsbecause her chum had done a cruel thing? Hurt as she was, why shouldshe give The Fox the satisfaction of _knowing_ she felt the slight?

Ruth began to take herself to task for her "softness. " Let Helen gowith the Upedes if she wished. Here were nice girls all about her, andall the Sweetbriars particularly thought a great deal of her, Ruthknew. She need not mope and weep just because Helen Cameron, heroldest friend, had neglected her. The other girls stood ready to beher friends. 

They had not noticed Ruth's silence and abstraction--much less hertears. She wiped her eyes hard, gulped down her sobs, and determinedto have a good time in spite of either the Upedes or Helen's hardnessof heart. 

The first wagonette reached the shore of the lake some time ahead ofthe second. And perhaps this fact, as well as the placing of MissReynolds in the latter, had been arranged by the wily Miss Cox. 

"Oh, Mary Cox!" cried Helen, looking out, "there's a whole lot of folkshere--BOYS!"

But when one of the boys came running to help her down the steps, Helenshouted with delight. She came "flopping" down into Tom Cameron's arms. 

"How scrumptious you look, Nell!" cried her brother, kissing herfrankly. "Here is Bob Steele--I want you to know him. He's my bunkieat Seven Oaks. Isn't his sister with you--Madge Steele?"

"Yes. Miss Steele's here, " gasped Helen. 

"But where's Ruth?" demanded the excited Tom. "Come on and get her. We want to get our skates on and make for the steamer. The ice is likeglass. "

"Why--Ruth's in the other wagonette, " said Helen. 

"She's not with you?" exclaimed Tom, rather chagrined. "Why, how'sthat?"

"We--we happened to get into different ones, " said his sister. 

To tell the truth, she had not thought of Ruth since leaving the school. 

"Is that the other one coming--'way back on the road there?"

"Yes, " said Helen. "Here's Miss Cox, Tom. Mary, this is my brother. "

Bob Steele, who was a tall, blond fellow, was at hand to be introduced, too. His sister jumped out of the wagon and said: "Hullo, Bobbie!How's your poor croup?" Madge was a year and a half older than herbrother and always treated him as though he were a very small boy inknickerbockers--if not actually in pinafores. 

The girls giggled over this, and Bob Steele blushed. But he took hissister's chaffing good-naturedly. Tom Cameron, however, was very muchdisturbed over the absence of Ruth Fielding. 

"We'd better hurry out on the ice. We've got an awful strict teacherwith us, " said Mary Cox, hastily. 

"You take care of my sister, too; will you, Bob?" said Tom, bluntly. "I shall wait and bring Miss Fielding down. "

"Oh, she'll look out for herself, " said Mary Cox, slightingly. "Wemust hurry if we want any fun. "

"Helen and I wouldn't have much fun if Ruth were left behind, " declaredMaster Tom, firmly. "Go on, Bob; we'll catch up with you. "

"Hadn't you better come, too, Tom?" whispered Helen, doubtfully. 

"Why, we want Ruth with us; don't we?" demanded the puzzled Tom, looking at her in wonder. "Go on, Nell. We'll be with you shortly. "

"Why, I want to introduce you to the other girls, " said Helen, pouting. "And I haven't seen you myself for so long. "

"It's too bad you got separated from your spoon, Nell, " said herbrother, calmly. "But I shall wait and bring her. "

The others--even Madge Steele--were already trooping down to thelanding, where there were settees for the girls to sit on while theirskates were being adjusted. Helen had to run after them, and Tomwaited alone the arrival of the second wagonette from Briarwood Hall. 

CHAPTER XXI

ON THE ICE

If Ruth Fielding's eyes were a bit red when the wagonette finally cameto the landing, nobody would have suspected her of crying. Least ofall Tom Cameron, for she jumped down with a glad cry when she saw him, and dropped her skates and shook both his hands in a most cordialgreeting. 

"Helen hinted that you might be here, Tom, but I could hardly believeit, " she said. 

"We want to hurry and catch up with them, " he said. Some of the girlswere already on the ice. "We'd better go. "

But the other girls had alighted, and following them came MissReynolds. Now, Ruth liked Miss Reynolds very much, but the teachercame towards them, looking rather grave. 

"This is Helen Cameron's brother Tom, Miss Reynolds, " said Ruth. "Heattends the Seven Oaks Military Academy. "

"I see, " said the teacher, quietly. "And where is Miss Cameron?"

"She has gone on with Bob Steele and his sister, " explained Tom, seeinginstantly that all was not right. "You see, some of us fellows gotpermission to come over here to Triton Lake to-day. Mr. Hargreaves, one of our tutors, is with us. "

"I know Mr. Hargreaves, " said Miss Reynolds. "But I had nowarning--nor had Mrs. Tellingham, I believe--that any of the younggentlemen from Major Parradel's school were to be here. "

"Well, it will make it all the nicer, I am sure, " Tom suggested, withhis winning smile. "We'll all--all us fellows, I mean--try to behaveour prettiest, Miss Reynolds. "

"Undoubtedly you will be on your good behavior, " said the teacher, drily. 

But Tom and Ruth could not hurry on ahead now. Miss Reynolds walkedsedately with them down to the landing. By that time Mary Cox and mostof the Upedes were on the ice--and they were joined by all the boys butTom. The Fox had laid her plans well. 

Mr. Hargreaves skated back to shake hands with Miss Reynolds. "This isa surprise, " he said. "I am sure I did not expect to find you and youryoung ladies here, Miss Reynolds. "

"Are you sure that the meeting is _quite_ unexpected by both parties?"she returned, with a grave smile. "If we are surprised, Mr. Hargreaves, I fancy that our young charges may have been rather betterinformed in advance than we were. "

The gentleman shrugged his shoulders. "I give that up!" he said. "Itmay be. I see you have your hands full here. Shall I take my--er--myremaining young man away with me?" he asked, looking aside at Tom, whowas already fastening Ruth's skates. 

"Oh, no, " said Miss Reynolds, grimly. "I'll make use of him!"

And she most certainly did. Tom was anxious to get Ruth away at onceso that they could catch up with the foremost skaters; but he could notrefuse to aid her teacher. And then there were others of the girls tohelp. They were all on the ice before Master Tom could get his ownskates on. 

Then there was a basket to carry, and of course Tom could not see theteacher or one of the girls carry it. He took it manfully. Then MissReynolds gave Ruth her hand and skated with her, and Master Tom wasfain to skate upon Ruth's other hand. And so they went on slowly, while the lively crowd ahead drew farther and farther away. It was notan unpleasant journey out across the smooth lake, however, and perhapsthe party who had but one boy for escort had just as pleasant a time inmany respects as those in advance. 

Ruth made her friend acquainted with all the Sweetbriars who werepresent and whispered to him how he had really named the new Briarwoodsociety. That vastly tickled Tom and he made himself just as agreeableto the girls as he knew how. Miss Reynolds was no wet blanket on thefun, either, and she was as good a skater as Tom himself. Ruth hadimproved greatly, and before they reached the frost-bound _Minnetonka_the teacher relieved Tom of his basket and told him to give the girlfrom the Red Mill a lesson in skating with a partner--practice whichshe sorely needed. 

It was spirited indeed to fly over the ice, guided by Tom's sure footand hand. They described a great curve and came back to Miss Reynoldsand the other girls, who progressed more sedately. Then Tom gave hishands to two of the older girls and with their arms stretched at fulllength the trio went careening over the ice on the "long roll" in a waythat made Ruth, looking on with shining eyes, fairly hold her breath. 

"It's wonderful!" she cried, when the three came back, glowing with theexercise. "Do you suppose I can ever learn that, Tom?"

"Why, Ruthie, you're so sure of yourself on the skates that I believe Icould teach you to roll very easily. If Miss Reynolds will allow me?"

"Go on, Master Tom, " the teacher said, laughing. "But don't go too faraway. We are nearing the boat now. "

The first party that had struck out from the shore had all arrived atthe ice-bound _Minnetonka_ now, and many of them were skating incouples thereabout. At the stern of the steamboat was an open place inthe ice, for Ruth and Tom could see the water sparkling. There waslittle wind, but it was keen; the sun was quite warm and the exercisekept the skaters from feeling the cold. 

"Hullo!" exclaimed Tom to Ruth, as they began to get into goodstroke--for the girl was an apt pupil--"who is that old Bobbins has gotunder his wing?"

"Who is Bobbins?" asked Ruth, with a laugh. 

"My bunkie--that's what we call our chums at Seven Oaks. Bob Steele. "

"Madge Steele's brother?"

"Yes. And no end of a good fellow, " declared Tom. "But, my aunt!don't his sister rig him, though? Asked old Bobbins if he had thecroup?" and Tom went off into a burst of laughter. 

"Do you mean the tall, light-haired boy?" Ruth queried. 

"Yes. They're skating back toward the steamboat now--see, towards thestern. "

"That is Mary Cox with your friend, " said Ruth, a little gravely. 

"Hullo!" ejaculated Tom, again. 

He started ahead at full clip, bearing Ruth on with him. Something hadhappened to the couple Tom and Ruth had noticed. They swerved to oneside and suddenly Bob Steele went down. 

"His skate's broke!" erred Tom. "Hope old Bobbins isn't hurt. GreatScott! the girl's with him!"

Mary Cox had indeed fallen. For a moment the two figures, flung by themomentum of their pace, slid over the ice. There came a wild shoutfrom those nearer the boat--then a splash!

"They're in the water!" cried Ruth, in horror. 

She retarded Tom very little, but dashed forward, keeping in strokewith him. She heard Tom whisper:

"Poor old Bobbins! he'll be drowned!"

"No, no, Tom! We can get to them, " gasped Ruth. 

Indeed, she and her escort were the nearest to the open place in thelake into which Bob Steele and Mary Cox had fallen. If anybody insight could help the victims of the accident Tom and Ruth could!

CHAPTER XXII

THE HARPIST ONCE MORE

Over all, Ruth wore a woolen sweater--one of those stretchy, clingingcoats with great pearl buttons that was just the thing for a skatingfrolic. It had been her one reckless purchase since being atBriarwood, she and Helen having gone down into Lumberton on Saturdayand purchased coats. While Ruth and Tom were yet some yards from theopen water the girl began to unbutton this. 

"Careful, Tom!" she gasped. "Not too near--wait!"

"It's thick 'way to the edge, " he returned, pantingly. 

"No, it isn't. That's why Mary Cox went in. I saw the ice break underher when she tried to turn and escape. "

Thus warned, Tom dug the heel of his right skate into the ice as abrake, and they slowed down. 

Ruth let go of his hand and wriggled out of her coat in a moment. Thenshe dropped to her knees and slid along the ice, while Tom flunghimself forward and traveled just as though he were sliding down hill. 

"Take this, Tom!" cried Ruth, and tossed the coat to him. "We'll makea chain--I'll hold your feet. Not too near!"

"Hold on, Bobbins!" yelled young Cameron. "We'll have you out in aminute!"

Mary Cox had screamed very loudly at first; and she struggled with herfellow victim, too. Bob Steele was trying to hold her up, but finallyhe was obliged to let her go, and she went under water with a gurglingcry. 

"Grab her again, Bobbins!" called Tom, flinging Ruth's coat ahead ofhim, but holding firmly to it himself by the two sleeves. 

"I've got her!" gasped Bob Steele, his teeth chattering, and up The Foxcame again, her hair all dripping, and her face very pale. 

"Good!" said Tom. "She's swallowed enough water to keep her still fora while--what? Come on, now, old boy! Don't wait! Catch hold!"

As Ruth had warned him, the edge of the ice was fragile. He dared notpush himself out too far with the sharp toes of his skates. He dugthem into the ice now hard, and made another cast with the coat. 

His chum caught it. Tom drew them slowly toward the edge of the ice. Ruth pulled back as hard as she could, and together they managed towork their bodies at least two yards farther from the open water. Theice stopped cracking under Tom's breast. 

There was the ring of skates and shouting of voices in their ears, andRuth, raising herself slightly, looked around and screamed to the crowdto keep back. Indeed, the first of Tom's school friends would haveskated right down upon them had they not thus been warned. 

"Keep back!" Ruth cried. "We can get them out. Don't come nearer!"

Tom seconded her warning, too. But mainly he gave himself up to thework of aiding the two in the water. Bob Steele lifted the girl up--hewas a strong swimmer even in that icy bath--and did it with one hand, too, for he clung to Ruth's coat with the other. 

Mary Cox began to struggle again. Fortunately Bob had her half uponthe ice. Tom reached forward and seized her shoulder. He dragged backwith all his strength. The ice crashed in again; but Mary did not fallback, for Tom jerked her heavily forward. 

"Now we've got her!" called Tom. 

And they really had. Mary Cox was drawn completely out of the water. Mr. Hargreaves, meanwhile, had flown to the rescue with two of thebigger boys. They got down on the ice, forming a second living chain, and hitching forward, the tutor seized the half-conscious girl's hand. The others drew back and dragged Mr. Hargreaves, with the girl, to firmice. 

Meanwhile Tom, with Ruth to help him, struggled manfully to get BobSteele out. That youngster was by no means helpless, and theyaccomplished the rescue smartly. 

"And that's thanks to you, Ruthie!" declared Tom, when the tutor andMiss Reynolds had hurried the half-drowned girl and young Steele off tothe _Minnetonka_. "I'd never have gotten him but for you--and look atyour coat!"

"It will dry, " laughed the girl from the Red Mill. "Let's hurry afterthem, Tom. You're wet a good deal, too--and I shall miss my coat, being so heated. Come on!"

But she could not escape the congratulations of the girls and boys whenthey reached the steamboat. Even Mary Cox's closest friends gatheredaround Ruth to thank her. Nobody could gainsay the fact that Ruth hadbeen of great help in the recovery of Mary and Bob from the lake. 

But Helen! had the other girls--and Miss Reynolds--not been in thelittle cabin of the boat which had been given up to the femininemembers of the party, she would have broken down and cried on Ruth'sshoulder. To think that she had been guilty of neglecting her chum!

"I believe I have been bewitched, Ruthie, " she whispered. "Tom, Iknow, is on the verge of scolding me. What did you say to him?"

"Nothing that need trouble you in the least, you may be sure, Helen, "said Ruth. "But, my dear, if it has taken such a thing as_this_--which is not a thing to go into heroics over--to remind youthat I might possibly be hurt by your treatment, I am very sorryindeed. "

"Why, Ruth!" Helen gasped. "You don't forgive me?"

"I am not at all sure, Helen, that you either need or want myforgiveness, " returned Ruth. "You have done nothing yourself for whichyou need to ask it--er, at least, very little; but your friends haveinsulted and been unkind to me. I do not think that I could havecalled girls _my_ friends who had treated you so, Helen. "

Miss Cox had retired to a small stateroom belonging to one of theofficers of the boat, while her clothing was dried by the coloredstewardess. Bob Steele, however, borrowed some old clothes of some ofthe crew, and appeared when the lunch was ready in those nondescriptgarments, greatly adding to the enjoyment of the occasion. 

"Well, sonny, your croup _will_ bother you sure enough, after thatdip, " declared his sister. "Come! let sister tuck your bib in like anice boy. And _don't_ gobble!"

Bob was such a big fellow--his face was so pink, and his hair soyellow--that Madge's way of talking to him made him seem highly comic. The fellows from Seven Oaks shouted with laughter, and the girlsgiggled. Mr. Hargreaves and Miss Reynolds, both relieved beyondexpression by the happy conclusion of what might have been a veryserious accident, did not quell the fun; and fifty or sixty youngpeople never had such a good time before in the saloon of the lakesteamer, _Minnetonka_. 

Suddenly music began somewhere about the boat and the young folk beganto get restive. Some ran for their skates again, for the idea was toremain near the steamer for a while and listen to the music beforegoing back to shore. The music was a piano, guitar, violin, and harp, and when Ruth heard it and recognized the latter instrument she wassuddenly reminded of Miss Picolet and the strange harpist who (shefirmly believed) had caused the startling sound at the fountain. 

"Let's go and see who's playing, " she whispered to Helen, who had clungclose to her ever since they had come aboard the steamboat. And as Tomwas on the other side of his sister, he went with them into the forwardpart of the boat. 

"Well, what do you know about _that_?" demanded Tom, almost before thegirls were in the forward cabin. "Isn't that the big man with the redwaistcoat that frightened that little woman on the _Lanawaxa_? Youknow, you pointed them out to me on the dock at Portageton, Helen?Isn't that him at the harp?"

"Oh! it is, indeed!" ejaculated his sister. "What a horrid man he is!Let's come away. "

But Ruth was deeply interested in the harpist. She wondered whatknowledge of, or what connection he had with, the little Frenchteacher, Miss Picolet. And she wondered, too, if her suspicionsregarding the mystery of the campus--the sounding of the harpstring inthe dead of night--were borne out by the facts?

Had this coarse fellow, with his pudgy hands, his corpulency, hisdrooping black mustache, some hold upon Miss Picolet? Had he followedher to Briarwood Hall, and had he made her meet him behind the fountainjust at that hour when the Upedes were engaged in hazing Helen andherself? These thoughts arose in her mind again as Ruth gazedapprehensively at the ugly-looking harpist. 

Helen pulled her sleeve and Ruth was turning away when she saw that thelittle, piglike eyes of the harpist were turned upon them. He smiledin his sly way and actually nodded at them. 

"Sh! he remembers us, " whispered Helen. "Oh, do come away, Ruth!"

"He isn't any handsome object, that's a fact, " muttered Tom. "And thecheek of him--nodding to you two girls!"

After the excitement of the accident on the lake our friends did notfeel much like skating until it came time to go back to the landing. Mr. Hargreaves was out on the ice with those students of the twoschools who preferred to skate; but Miss Reynolds remained in thecabin. Mary Cox had had her lunch in the little stateroom, wrapped inblankets and in the company of an oil-stove, for heat's sake. Now shecame out, re-dressed in her own clothes, which were somewhat mussed andshrunken in appearance. 

Helen ran to her at once to congratulate Mary on her escape. "Andwasn't it lucky Tom and Ruth were so near you?" she cried. "And dearold Ruthie! she's quite a heroine; isn't she? And you must meet Tom. "

"I shall be glad to meet and thank your brother, Helen, " said The Fox, rather crossly. "But I don't see what need there is to make a fussover Fielding. Your brother and Mr. Hargreaves pulled Mr. Steele andme out or the lake. "

Helen stepped back and her pretty face flushed. She had begun to seeMary Cox in her true light. Certainly she was in no mood just then tohear her chum disparaged. She looked around for Tom and Ruth; theformer was talking quietly with Miss Reynolds, but Ruth had slippedaway when The Fox came into the cabin. 

Mary Cox walked unperturbed to the teacher and Tom and put out her handto the youth, thanking him very nicely for what he had done. 

"Oh, you mustn't thank me more than the rest of them, " urged Tom. "Atleast, I did no more than Ruthie. By the way, where _is_ Ruthie?"

But Ruth Fielding had disappeared, and they did not see her again untilthe call was given for the start home. Then she appeared from theforward part of the boat, very pale and silent, and all the way to theshore, skating between Tom and Helen, she had scarcely a word to say. 

CHAPTER XXIII

THE SECRET

For there was the burden of a secret on Ruth Fielding's mind and heart. She had slipped away when she saw The Fox appear in the outer cabinand, walking forward, had been stopped suddenly in a cross gallery by afirm touch upon her arm. 

"Sh! Mademoiselle!"

Before she looked into the shadowy place she realized that it was theharpist. His very presence so near her made Ruth shrink and tremblefor an instant. But then she recovered her self-possession and asked, unshakenly:

"What do you want of me?"

"Ah, Mademoiselle! Kind Mademoiselle!" purred the great creature--andRuth knew well what his villainous smile must look like, although shecould not see it. "May the unfortunate vagabond musician speak asingle word into Mademoiselle's ear?"

"You have spoken several words into it already, sir, " said Ruth, sharply. "What do you want?"

"Ah! the Mademoiselle is so practical, " murmured the harpist again. 

"Be quick, " commanded Ruth, for although she had a strong repugnancefor the fellow there was no reason why she should fear him, with somany people within call. "State your reason for stopping me, sir. "

"The Mademoiselle is from the school--the institute where learning istaught the lo-fe-ly Misses?"

He thus made three syllables of "lovely" and Ruth knew that he leeredlike a Billiken in the dark. 

"I am at Briarwood Hall--yes, " she said. 

"I have seen the kind Mademoiselle before, " said the man. "On the boaton that other so-beeg lake--Osago, is it?"

"On the _Lanawaxa_--yes, " admitted Ruth. 

"Ah! I am proud. The Mademoiselle remember me, " he exclaimed, bowingin the dark alley. 

"Go on, " urged Ruth, impatiently. 

"It is of the leetle lady--Mademoiselle Picolet--I would speak, " hesaid, more quickly. 

"Our French teacher--yes. "

"Then, knowing her, will the Mademoiselle take a small note from thepoor musician to the good Picolet? 'Tis a small matter--no?"

"You want me to do this without telling anybody about it?" questionedRuth, bluntly. 

"_Oui, oui_, Mademoiselle! You have the discernment beyond your years. Indeed!"

"I knew it must be something underhanded you wanted, " declared Ruth, boldly. 

He laughed and Ruth saw a small envelope thrust toward her in the duskof the passage. "You will take it?" he said. 

"I will take it--providing you do not come there again, " exclaimed Ruth. 

"Come where?" he demanded. 

"To the school. To the campus where the fountain is. "

"Ha! you know _that_, my pretty bird?" he returned. "Well! this willperhaps relieve the good Picolet of my presence--who knows?"

"Then I will take it, " Ruth said, hastily, her hand closing on thebillet. 

"_Comme il faut_, " he said, and went away down the passage, humming inhis bassoon voice. 

And so, as she sped shoreward between her two friends, Ruth had thelittle letter tucked away in the bosom of her frock. The secrettroubled her. She was really glad to say good bye to Tom at thelanding, and all the way back in the wagonette, although Helen satclose to her and tried to show her how sorry she was for her pastneglect, Ruth was very silent. 

For she was much disturbed by this secret. She feared she was doingwrong in carrying the note to Miss Picolet. Yet, under differentcircumstances, she might have thought little of it. But after her talkwith Mrs. Tellingham about the mystery of the campus, she was troubledto think that she was taking any part in the French teacher's privateaffairs. 

Helen was so filled with the excitement of the day, and of her longtalk with her twin brother, that she did not observe Ruth's distraughtmanner. 

"And we'll have such fun!" Ruth finally awoke to hear her chum declarein a whisper. "Father's always promised to get a place in the woods, and Snow Camp is a delightful spot. "

"What are you talking about, Helen?" demanded Ruth, suddenly. 

"I don't believe you've heard a thing I've been saying, " cried her chum. 

"I haven't heard everything, " admitted Ruth. "But tell me now; I'lllisten. "

"It's about the Christmas Holidays. You shall go with us. We're going'way up in the woods--to a hunting camp that father has bought. Wewere there for a week-end once when Mr. Parrish owned it. Snow Camp isthe most delightful place. "

"I am sure you will have a fine time, " Ruth said, generously. 

"And so you will, too, " declared Helen, "for you're going. "

"My _dear_! I am going home to the Red Mill at Christmas. "

"And we'll go home for Christmas, too; but there are three weeks'holidays, and two of them we will spend at Snow Camp. Oh, yes wewill!" Helen cried. "I'd cry my eyes out if you didn't go, Ruth. "

"But Uncle Jabez----"

"We'll just tease him until he lets you go. He'll not object much, I'msure. I should just cry my eyes out if you didn't go with us, Ruthie, "she repeated. 

The plan for the winter holidays sank into insignificance in Ruth'smind, however, when they left the carriages and ran over to the WestDormitory just as evening was falling. Mercy waved a white hand tothem from her window as they crossed the campus; but Ruth allowed Helento run ahead while she halted in the lower corridor and asked MissScrimp if the French teacher was in her room. 

"Oh, yes, Miss Ruthie, " said the matron. "Miss Picolet is in. You canknock. "

As Ruth asked this question and received its answer she saw Mary Coxcome in alone at the hall door. The Fox had not spoken to Ruth sincethe accident on the ice. Now she cast no pleasant glance in Ruth'sdirection. Yet, seeing the younger girl approaching Miss Picolet'sdoor, Mary smiled one of her very queerest smiles, nodded her head withsecret satisfaction, and marched on upstairs to her own study. 

"Enter!" said Miss Picolet's soft voice in answer to Ruth's timid rapon the panel of the door. 

The girl entered and found the little French teacher sewing by thewindow. Miss Picolet looked up, saw who it was, and welcomed Ruth witha smile. 

"I hope you have had a joyful day, Miss Ruth, " she said. "Come to theradiator--you are cold. "

"I am going to run upstairs in a moment, Mademoiselle, " said Ruth, hesitatingly. "But I have a message for you. "

"A message for me?" said the lady, in surprise. 

"Yes, ma'am. "

"From the Preceptress, Ruth?"

"No, Miss Picolet. It--it is a letter that has been given me to behanded to you--secretly. "

The little teacher's withered cheek flushed and her bright little eyesclouded. By the way one of her hands fluttered over her heart, too, Ruth knew that Miss Picolet was easily frightened. 

"A letter for me?" she whispered. 

Ruth was unbuttoning her coat and frock to get at the letter. She said:

"There was an orchestra on that boat that was frozen into the ice, MissPicolet. One of the musicians spoke to me. He knew you--or said hedid----"

The girl hated to go on, Miss Picolet turned so pale and looked sofrightened. But it had to be done, and Ruth pursued her story:

"I had seen the man before--the day we came to school here, Helen andI. He played the harp on the _Lanawaxa_. "

"Ah!" gasped the French woman, holding out her hand. "No more, mydear! I understand. Let me have it. "

But now Ruth hesitated and stammered, and felt in the bosom of herdress with growing fear. She looked at Miss Picolet, her own facepaling. 

"Oh, Miss Picolet!" she suddenly burst out. "What will you think?What can I say?"

"What--what is the matter?" gasped the French teacher. 

"I--I haven't got it--it is gone!"

"What do you mean, Ruth Fielding?" cried Miss Picolet, springing to herfeet. 

"It's gone--I've lost it! Oh, my dear Miss Picolet! I didn't mean to. I tried to be so careful. But I have lost the letter he gave meaddressed to you!"

CHAPTER XXIV

"WHO IS THE TATTLE-TALE?"

The next day the whole school were at their books again--the shortThanksgiving recess was ended. It had been just a breathing space forthe girls who really were anxious to stand well in their classes atBriarwood Hall. Those who--like some of the Upedes--desired nothing somuch as "fun, " complained because the vacation had been so short, anddawdled over their books again. 

But there was no dawdling in Duet Two, West Dormitory. Had Helen beeninclined to lapse occasionally, or Ruth sunk under the worriment ofmind which had borne her down since the day of the skating party onTriton Lake, Mercy Curtis kept the two chums to the mark. 

"No shirking, you young ones!" commanded the crippled girl, in hersharp way. "Remember the hare would have won the race easily if hehadn't laid down to nap beside the course. Come! some tortoise willbeat you in French and Latin yet, Helen, if you don't keep to work. And go to work at that English composition, Ruthie Remissness! You'dboth be as lazy as Ludlum's dog if it wasn't for me. "

And so she kept them up to the work, and kept herself up, too. Therewasn't much time for larking now, if one wished to stand well at theend of the term. The teachers watched for shirkers more closely, too. Even Mary Cox and her friends next door showed some signs of industry. 

"Although it does seem as though we were always being worked to death, "groaned Heavy, one day, to Ruth. "I feel as though my constitution wasactually breaking down under the strain. I've written to my fatherthat if he wants to see even a shadow of my former self at Christmas, he had better tell Mrs. Tellingham not to force me so!"

She sighed breezily and looked so hard at the piece of cocoanut piebeside Ruth's plate (having eaten her own piece already) that Ruthlaughed and pushed it toward her. 

"Have it if you like, Heavy, " she said. "I am not very hungry. "

"Well, there isn't quite so much of you to nourish, my dear, " declaredJennie Stone, more briskly. "I really _do_ feel the need of an extrapiece. Thank you, Ruth! You're a good little thing. "

"Miss Picolet will see you, Ruth, " whispered Helen, on her other side. "She is disgusted with Heavy's piggishness. But Miss Picolet, afterall, won't say anything to you. You are her pet. "

"Don't say that, Helen, " replied Ruth, with some sadness. "I am sorryfor Miss Picolet. "

"I don't see why you need be. She seems to get along very well, "returned her chum. 

But Ruth could not forget how the little French teacher had looked--howfrightened she was and how tearful--the afternoon when Ruth had toldher of the incident aboard the _Minnetonka_, and of her loss of themysterious letter sent by the harpist. The little French woman hadbegged her not to blame herself for the loss of the letter; she hadonly begged her to say nothing to a soul about either the man or theletter. And Ruth had kept the secret. 

Nearly a fortnight had passed since the occurrence, and it lacked notmany days to the close of the term, when one evening, after a meetingof the S. B. 's in their usual room over the dining hall, Ruth had beendelayed a bit and was hurrying out alone so as not to be caught out ofthe dormitory after warning bell, when old Tony Foyle hailed her. 

"I was a-goin' to the West Dormitory to ax Miss Scrimp for to call ye, Miss Ruthie, " said the old Irishman, who--like most of the help aboutthe school--was fond of the girl from the Red Mill. "Ye're wanted, Miss. "

"Wanted?" asked Ruth, in surprise. "Who by?"

"The Missus wants ye--Missus Tellingham. Ye're ter go straight to herstudy, so ye are. "

Much disturbed--for she feared there might be bad news from home--Ruthran to the main building and knocked on Mrs. Tellingham's door. At herpleasantly spoken "Come in!" the girl entered and found the Preceptressat her desk, while the old doctor, quite as blind and deaf toeverything but his own work as usual, was bent over his papers at theend of the long table. But at this hour, and in the privacy of theplace, he had cocked the brown wig over one ear in the most comicalway, displaying a perfectly bald, shiny patch of pate which made hisnaturally high forehead look fairly enormous. 

"Nothing to be frightened about, Miss Fielding, " said Mrs. Tellingham, instantly reading aright what she saw in Ruth's countenance. "You neednot be disturbed. For I really do not believe you are at fault in thismatter which has been brought to my notice. "

"No, Mrs. Tellingham?" asked Ruth, curiously. 

"I have only a question to ask you. Have you lost something--somethingthat might have been entrusted to you for another person? Some letter, for instance?"

The color flashed into Ruth's face. She was always thinking about thenote the harpist had given to her on the steamboat to take to MissPicolet. She could not hide her trouble from the sharp eyes of Mrs. Tellingham. 

"You _have_ lost something?"

"I don't know whether I should tell you. I don't know that I have aright to tell you, " Ruth stammered. 

Mrs. Tellingham looked at her sharply for a minute or so, and thennodded. Then she said:

"I understand. You have been put on your honor not to tell?"

"Yes, Mrs. Tellingham. It is not my secret. "

"But there is a letter to be recovered?"

"Ye-es. "

"Is this it?" asked Mrs. Tellingham, suddenly thrusting under Ruth'seye a very much soiled and crumpled envelope. And it had beenunsealed, Ruth could see. The superscription was to "MademoisellePicolet. "

"It--it looks like it, " Ruth whispered. "But it was sealed when I hadit. "

"I do not doubt it, " said Mrs. Tellingham, with a shake of her head. "But the letter was given to me first, and then the envelope. The--theperson who claims to have found it when you dropped it, declared it tobe open then. "

"Oh, I do not think so!" cried Ruth. 

"Well. Enough that I know its contents. You do not?"

"Indeed, no, Mrs. Tellingham. I may have done wrong to agree todeliver the letter. But I--I was so sorry for her----"

"I understand. I do not blame you in the least, child, " said Mrs. Tellingham, shortly. "This letter states that the writer expects moremoney from our Miss Picolet--poor thing! It states that if the moneyis not forthcoming to an address he gives her before to-day--to-day, mind you, is the date--he will come here for it. It is, in short, athreat to make trouble for Miss Picolet. And the person finding thisletter when you dropped it has deliberately, I believe, retained ituntil to-day before bringing it to me, for the express purpose ofletting the scoundrel come here and disturb Miss Picolet's peace ofmind. "

"Oh, how mean!" gasped Ruth, involuntarily. 

"Mean indeed, Ruth, " said the Preceptress, gravely. "And you haveyourself experienced some ill-usage from the person who has played spyand informer in this matter, since you have come to Briarwood Hall. Iunderstand--you know that little can go on about the school that doesnot reach my ears in one way or another--that this same person hascalled you a 'tattle-tale' and tried to make your friends among thegirls believe that you played traitor to them on a certain occasion. Ihave told Miss Cox exactly what I think of her action in this case, "and she tapped the letter before her. "She has shown plainly, " saidMrs. Tellingham, with sternness, "that she is a most sly andmean-spirited girl. I am sorry that one of the young ladies ofBriarwood Hall is possessed of so contemptible a disposition. "

CHAPTER XXV

GETTING ON

It was a frosty night and snow lay smoothly upon the campus. Only thewalks and the cemented place about the fountain were cleaned. TonyFoyle had made his last rounds and put out the lights; but althoughthere was no moon the starlight on the snow made the campus silvery inspots. But the leafless trees, and the buildings about the open space, cast deep shadows. 

There was a light shining in a study window of the West Dormitory andthat light was in the room occupied by the Triumvirate--Ruth Fielding, Helen Cameron and Mercy Curtis. The two latter were abed, but awakeand wondering why Ruth had not returned, and what Miss Scrimp had meantby coming to the door and telling them to leave the light burning. 

The clocks had long since struck eleven and it was close to midnight. The night was still, for there was no wind. It was possible that veryfew of either the scholars, teachers, or servants at Briarwood wereawake. But almost directly under the light in the Triumvirate's roomanother light burned--in the study of the French teacher. She seldomretired early; that is one reason why those girls who considered MissPicolet their enemy believed she was always on the watch. 

Three figures came out of the basement door under the tower ofBriarwood Hall--a lady much bundled up, a girl ditto, and the oldIrishman, Tony Foyle. 

"Sure, ma'am, jest as I told ye this afternoon, the big felly thatsassed me last fall, tryin' ter git in ter play his harp, and with hisother vagabonds, was hanging around again to-day. I hear him an' hisrapscallion companions is in Lumberton. They've been playing abouthere and there, for a month back. And now I see him comin' along withhis harp on his back--bad 'cess to him! P'raps they're walkin' acrossto Sivin Oaks, an' are takin' in Briarwood as a 'cross-cut'. "

"Hush!" whispered the Preceptress. "Isn't that somebody overyonder--by the fountain?"

They were all three silent, keeping close in the shadow. Some object_did_ seem to be moving in the shadow of the fountain. Suddenly theresounded on the still night air the reverberating note of a harp--acrash of sound following the flourish of a practised hand across thewires. 

"Bless us and save us!" muttered Tony. "'Tis the marble harp. 'Tis abanshee playin'. "

"Be still!" commanded Mrs. Tellingham. "It is nothing of the kind, youvery well know, Tony. Ah!"

She had looked instantly toward the illuminated window of the Frenchteacher's study at the other side of the campus. The shade had snappedup to the top of the casement, and the shadow of Miss Picolet appeared. The French teacher had heard the voice of the harp. 

"Oh, poor little thing, " murmured Mrs. Tellingham. "This seems likespying and eavesdropping, Ruth Fielding; but I mean to stop this thingright here and now. She shall not be frightened out of her wits bythis villain. "

They heard no further sound from the harp at the fountain. But thedoor of the West Dormitory opened and the little figure of Miss Picoletappeared, wrapped in some long, loose garment, and she sped down towardthe fountain. Soon she was out of sight behind the marble statue. 

"Come!" breathed the Preceptress. 

They heard Miss Picolet and the man chattering in their ownlanguage--the man threatening, the woman pleading--when the trio got tothe fountain. Ruth was a poor French scholar, but of course Mrs. Tellingham understood what they said. And the Preceptress glidedaround the fountain and confronted the harpist with a suddenness thatquite startled him. 

"You, sir!" exclaimed the lady, coldly. "I have heard enough of this. Don't be frightened, Miss Picolet. I only blame you for not coming tome. I have long known your circumstances, and the fact that you arepoor, and that you have an imbecile sister to support, and that thisman is your disreputable half-brother. And that he threatens to hangabout here and make you lose your position unless you pay him to begood, is well known to me, too. 

"We will have no more of this fellow's threats, " continued Mrs. Tellingham, sternly. "You will give him none of your hard-earnedmoney, Miss Picolet. Tony, here, shall see him off the grounds, and ifhe ever appears here again, or troubles you, let me know and I shallsend him to jail for trespass. Now, remember--you Jean Picolet! Ihave your record and the police at Lumberton shall have it, too, if youever trouble your sister again. "

"Ah-ha!" snarled the big man, looking evilly at Ruth. "So the littleMademoiselle betrayed me; did she?"

"She has had nothing to do with it--save to have had the misfortune oflosing the letter you gave her to deliver to Miss Picolet, " Mrs. Tellingham said, briefly. "I had her here to identify you, had MissPicolet not come out to meet you. Now, Tony!"

And big as the harpist was, and little as the old Irishman seemed, there was that in Tony Foyle's eye that made the man pick up his harpin a hurry and make his way from the campus. 

"Child! go in to bed, " said Mrs. Tellingham. "Not a word of this, remember. Thank goodness, _you_ are one girl who can keep a secret. Miss Picolet, I want to see you in my study. I hope that, hereafter, you will give me your confidence. For you need fear no dismissal fromthe school over such a misfortune as is visited upon you. "

She took the sobbing, trembling French teacher away with her while Ruthran up to Duet Two in the West Dormitory, in a much excited state ofmind. 

Fortunately both Helen and Mercy had dropped to sleep and none of theother girls seemed to have heard the harp at midnight. So there was notalk this time about the Ghost of the Campus. To the other girls atBriarwood, the mystery remained unsolved, and the legend of the marbleharp was told again and again to the Infants who came to the school, with the added point that, on the night Ruth Fielding and Helen Cameronhad come to the hall, the marble harp was again heard to sound itsghostly note. 

No thought of such foolish, old-wives' fables troubled Ruth Fielding'sdreams as she lay down on this night which had seen the completeexposure of the campus mystery and the laying of the campus ghost. Shedreamed, instead, of completing her first term at Briarwood withsatisfaction to herself and her teachers--which she did! She dreamedof returning to the old Red Mill and being joyfully received by AuntAlviry and Uncle Jabez--which she did! She dreamed, too, of joiningHelen Cameron and her mid-winter party at Snow Camp and enjoyingquantities of fun and frolic in the wintry woods; which, likewise, cametrue, and which adventures will be related in good time In the nextvolume of this series: "Ruth Fielding at Snow Camp; Or, Lost in theBackwoods. "

"I am so glad it is over!" said Ruth to herself, as she retired. "Ihope there is no more trouble. "

And here let us for the time being say good bye to Ruth Fielding andher chums of Briarwood Hall. 

THE END

PEGGY LEE SERIES

By ANNA ANDREWS

A charming series of stories of a young American girl, Peggy Lee, living with her family (including many unusual pets) on a large coffeeplantation in Central America, and her many adventures there and in NewYork. 

The action is rapid, full of fun, and takes the reader not only to manyinteresting places in Central America, but in the country as well, where Peggy attends a school for girls. The incidents are cleverlybrought out, and Peggy in her wistful way, proves in her manyadventures to be a brave girl and an endearing heroine to her friendsand readers. 

 1. PEGGY AND MICHAEL OF THE COFFEE PLANTATION 2. PEGGY LEE OF THE GOLDEN THISTLE PLANTATION 3. PEGGY LEE AND THE MYSTERIOUS ISLANDS

(Other Volumes in Preparation)

CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers, New York