Not daring to break the appointment she had made with the freshman committee, Miss Reid met them the next afternoon in the gymnasium at the time she had set. She had been very careful, in the meantime, not to come in contact with Leslie Cairns or Lola Elster. Deep in her soul, she was raging at the choice which had been forced upon her. Fear of losing her position of years’ standing at Hamilton, and the even more active fear that perhaps her connivance with Leslie Cairns was known in college, urged her to shun campus publicity. Resignation was the one way out of her difficulties with both parties. It would check all freshman activities against her. As for Leslie, what could she say or do in the face of it? She would be angry, of course, and insulting. Insults, however, broke no bones. Leslie could not circulate malicious reports about her without implicating herself. To resign also meant a saving of dignity. Miss Reid determined, therefore, to resign, but without appointing a time for a new try-out. She would slide from under and let the freshmen straighten the snarl as best they might.

A plan is not a success until it has been carried out. This Miss Reid learned at her second interview with the committee. Portia, backed by the other members of the committee, insisted that Miss Reid should sign a notice of her own composition, announcing a new try-out.

“You may say, if you choose, that, owing to the dissatisfaction of the preponderance of the freshman class with the work of the present basket ball team, you have been requested by a committee, representing freshman interests, to call another try-out for the purpose of selecting another team, composed of players, adequate to the work.”

“But no such thing has ever been heard of, much less done, here at Hamilton,” objected Miss Reid, when Portia coolly outlined the notice.

“It has been heard of now and must be done,” came the instant answer. “I assure you, Miss Reid, that you will go further toward gaining the respect of the students by being impersonal in this affair. You have been severely criticized for allowing so inadequate a team to take the floor. On the day of the first try-out good players were ignored and unskilful ones chosen. You will gain more by rectifying this error. You owe it to yourself to do so before you resign. We freshmen prefer the seniors as managers of our college sports. You have not been just with us and we have resented your injustice.”

Portia’s denunciation of the physical instructor’s methods was, undoubtedly, candid. It had the desired effect, however. Miss Reid wrote and posted the notice. Further, she sent a frigid little note to the senior manager of college sports, whom she had treated so discourteously on the day of the try-out, renouncing all voice and interest in basket ball.

The victorious committee’s next move was to get in touch with the senior sports committee of three, which included Miss Clement, the senior manager, and notify them of the complete revolution of affairs. The two who had sided with Miss Reid agreed quite meekly now with the committee’s ideas. The try-out was held in the gymnasium shortly after the notice had been posted, and, for once, a team was made up on its merits. Robin Page again made good and won the coveted position of center. The request for her resignation from the other team had not specially troubled Robin, knowing that a shake-up was imminent.

Four released and exasperated freshmen, headed by Lola Elster and reinforced by the ten classmates in sympathy with the ex-team besieged Miss Reid, demanding re-instatement. She very quickly thrust the burden on the shoulders of the senior sports committee. She made it plain to her favorites, also, just who was responsible for the affair. As they had no case they dared not take their grievance higher. What they proceeded to do was seek the consolation of the Sans, all fourteen of them being at least eligible to association with these exclusives. Their domineering sophomore sisters obligingly promised them vengeance against the obnoxious committee.

Leslie Cairns’ receipt of the movement against collusion was a fit of temper such as she seldom gave way to. Spying the notice on the bulletin board, she deliberately ripped it off and tore it to bits. Then she set off for the gymnasium at a pace quite foreign to her usual leisurely gait. Luckily for Miss Reid, she happened to be elsewhere at the time. Thus, when she and Leslie came to classes on the following afternoon, the latter had calmed considerably. She did not spare the older woman’s feelings, but scored her sharply for “bungling” and then leaving her friends in the lurch in order to save herself.

“You may say what you please, Leslie, but it would have done no good to defy them,” the instructor defended. “The freshman class this year is a collection of young anarchists. I would advise you to be very careful what you do. There has not been such a class in years at Hamilton. A few more like it and Hamilton will lose its reputation as a really exclusive college.”

“What Hamilton ought to lose is some of its freshie freshmen,” retorted Leslie. “I have a friend who knows a lot about one of them, at least, and she probably knows enough about some others to queer them here. I mean those ninnies from that little one-horse town of Sanford. The whole five of them are an eyesore to me. The only one who hates ’em harder than I do, is Nat. She never will forgive that moon-eyed Miss Dean for putting it over her at the Beauty contest. Leila Harper was back of that. She is another I could see leave Hamilton without going into mourning.”

“You can place the blame upon the Silverton Hall crowd, with Miss Graham and Miss Page as ringleaders,” informed Miss Reid sourly.

Leslie shrugged sceptically. “Oh, I don’t know,” she differed. “Nat thinks Miss Dean’s crowd started it. They took up the cudgels for that dig, Miss Langly. The minute we started to rag her for being so bull-headed about her room, this crowd of sillies started in rooting for her. Now old Proffy Wenderblatt and his family have taken her up and they make a fuss over her. She and the green-eyed Sanford dig are so chummy. They make me sick. We have to be careful now about ragging her. Wenderblatt is a terror when he isn’t pleased. He would report us to Doctor Matthews. Ragging is forbidden here, same as hazing. I’d do both to any one I didn’t like, if I thought I could get away with it.”

Despite Leslie Cairns’ threats, made not only to Miss Reid but to Natalie Weyman and a few others, life slid along very peacefully for the Five Travelers. The holidays past, they found enjoyment in settling down for the winter term to uninterrupted study, lightened by impromptu social gatherings, held in one another’s rooms. Occasionally they made dinner engagements at Silverton or Acasia House or entertained at Baretti’s, their favorite haunt when in search of good cheer. Once a week they spent an hour together as the Five Travelers, and found the little confidential session helpful. No misunderstandings had crept in among them. Often their talks branched off into impersonalities, of interest to all.

Neither Marjorie nor Muriel had entered the second basket ball try-out. Both had decided to wait until their sophomore year. Fond of the game, they dropped into the gymnasium occasionally for an hour’s work with the ball by way of keeping up practice. There were always plenty of subs willing to make up a team.

February came, bringing with it St. Valentine’s day, and the masque which the juniors always gave on St. Valentine’s night. A Valentine post box was one of the features. For days beforehand the girls spent odd moments in making valentines, the rule being that all valentines posted must have been hand wrought. Marjorie, remembering the cunning little-girl costume Mary Raymond had worn to Mignon La Salle’s fancy dress party, shortened a frilled pink organdie gown of hers and went back to childhood for a night. With pink flat-heeled kid slippers and pink silk stockings, an immense pink top-knot bow tying up a portion of her curls, she was a pretty sight. Ronny went as a Watteau shepherdess, Lucy as a Japanese girl, Muriel as Rosalind in Shakespeare’s “As You Like It,” and Jerry as a clown.

The valentine party was always a delightful feature of the college year, for the reason that it was a masquerade. Though the Sans had been holding themselves rigidly aloof from all but a few students since the downfall of Lola Elster as a basket ball star, they could not resist the lure of a masquerade. They took good care to keep together until after the unmasking, presumably for fear of mingling with what they considered as “the common herd.”

“Anyone with a good pair of keen eyes can tell the precious Sans though they should be happening to wear a dozen masks,” Leila Harper had derided. “They wear such silks and satins and velvets and jewels! They are wearying to the sight with their fine clothes. Look at me. A poor Irish colleen with nothing silk about me but one small neckerchief.”

Following the masquerade by only a few days came the excitement of the first game between the new team and the sophomores. The latter had not challenged the freshman team after its reorganization, as Leslie Cairns had voiced against it and neither Natalie nor Joan Myers cared to oppose her. Leslie possessed a very large fortune in her own right. In consequence she always had money in abundance. While the former had large allowances, they managed usually to overstep them. In such case they fell back on Leslie and were invariably in her debt.

Later Leslie changed her mind about not wishing the sophomores to play against the “upstarts,” as she termed them. Having overheard on the campus that the sophs were afraid to meet the freshies, she accordingly urged Joan to challenge the freshman team.

When the game came off on the third Saturday in February, the freshmen gave the sophomores a drubbing they would not soon forget. It was not a whitewash, but it was painfully near it. The sophomore players took the defeat with very poor grace. The freshman class had gone wild when the game had ended 26-10 in favor of the freshmen. While the sophs had not expected a walk-away victory, they had confidently expected to win. Further, Leslie had promised them a dinner at Baretti’s that should outdo anything she had given that year. Now that they had lost the game, she obstinately refused to keep her word.

“Why spend my good money on a crowd of no accounts like you?” she had roughly queried. “I said if you won I’d give the dinner. You did not, so what’s the use in celebrating. The fault with you girls is you’ve been slackers about practicing. You’ve gone motoring when you should have been in the gym and after the ball.” This rebuke was delivered in the sophs’ dressing room after the game, whence the team had hurried to hide their diminished heads.

“Do you know what I heard out on the floor?” she continued, with intent to hurt. “I heard that the sophs might have won if they had practiced once in a while.”

“Just the same the freshies had coaching all the time and we didn’t,” Dulcie Vale asserted. “Miss Dean and Miss Harding are both expert players. It seems that they play basket ball a lot at these high schools. These girls get to be very clever at it. Like the Indians, you know, who make such good foot ball players. They showed the team different plays to use against us. That’s why they won. They have been over to the gym almost every day.”

Dulcie’s comparison of Muriel and Marjorie to the Indians raised a laugh, as she intended it should. Even Leslie laughed in her peculiar silent fashion. Next instant she frowned. She had again been thwarted by the girls she despised. Things were not going rightly at all. Born a bully, she looked upon even her friends as created only for her amusement. She had the insatiable desire for power, and could not bear defeat. Tucked in an inner pocket of her tweed top coat was a letter she had recently received. It was not the first one she had received from the same source. This particular letter had appeared to afford her great satisfaction on reading. Her hand strayed to the pocket which held it.

“I have a letter here I would like to read to you girls,” she drawled. “On second thoughts I’ll take back what I said. I’ll stand for that blowout at Baretti’s. That would be a good place to read you the letter. Then I would like your advice on it.”