Upon returning to her room, Hilary was too wide-awake to sleep and dropped upon the window-seat in the dark study room, drawing around her Cathalina’s steamer rug which happened to be there. The wind was sighing through the trees. She could hear the sound of the waves upon the beach not far away, and another louder sound came from the lake as well, that of some motor. “A boat or a plane,” thought Hilary, looking out through tree-tops, “I believe it is a plane. Perhaps they are trying out the hydroplanes though it is rather late for that.” Just then there came a flash from where the shore line was located. “A search-light,” was Hilary’s thought, but no steady sweeping light continued, only two or three flashes. Hilary leaned out of the window, looked in all directions and was rewarded by seeing dim flashes far down the lake. Two or three times the signals were repeated, then no more.

For five or ten minutes, Hilary still sat by the window thinking over the occurrences of the night, then went to the table where her own clock was still ticking out the hours, so carefully watched that evening when they were hurrying their lessons through. Flashing her light on its familiar face, she read that it was one o’clock, yawning a little, she stole gently back into her bedroom without waking Lilian, tucked a comfortable pillow under her head, threw back her heavy brown braids to a position where they would not annoy her, and was soon in a dreamless sleep.

But Hilary had come to a decision while she sat looking out of the window. Whatever it was in which Captain Holley was concerned, it was evident that Louise was meeting him and was taking advantage of the old tradition to play the ghost and make the girls afraid to go through the halls at night. It was no single prank to be winked at. Miss Randolph should know the whole story from beginning to end.

In the morning, therefore, the performances of the night were related to an interested audience of three, as the girls of Lakeview Suite dressed for breakfast, and Hilary said that she had determined to tell Miss Randolph. “What do you think, girls?” she asked.

“You are right, Hilary,” said Lilian, without hesitation.

“Are you going to tell her about me, too?” asked Betty, “and the cave, and everything?”

“Yes, unless you have some objection.”

“Not a bit.”

“I wish you would go with me, Cathalina, and I want to get Evelyn to support my evidence about last night. I think it is our business as seniors to stop this affair of coming and going at night.”

“Louise will be furious.”

“Louise isn’t any too safe herself.”

“I shall be glad to go, Hilary. I have felt like speaking to Miss Randolph about several things before this.”

But it was easier to make a decision than to carry it out, where other persons were concerned. Scarcely had Cathalina finished speaking, when there came a quick rap at the door, and, upon invitation, Louise herself came in. Looking from one to another, she saw knowledge written on the faces of all and hastened to make her appeal. “Say, Hilary,” she began, “you are not going to tell Miss Randolph, are you, about my playing the ghost? Please don’t!”

“I made up my mind to do that very thing,” said Hilary, her face flushing with the effort of doing a disagreeable thing. “I didn’t think that you should be allowed to go on with this sort of thing.”

Louise burst into sudden tears. “I can’t see anything so dreadful about fooling the girls!” she said, as soon as she could control herself.

“No, Louise, but I can’t feel that that is all there is to it. Now haven’t you been out to meet your brother again? I’d like to know what he is doing, too. It certainly looks queer to us girls that you find it necessary to meet your own brother in this way, when he can come to see you at any proper time. Have you a key to one of the doors?”

“It isn’t your business what I am doing!”

“No, but I fancy that it is Miss Randolph’s, if you are disobeying such important rules. It is a matter of your own safety as well as ours. I don’t intend to do anything but inform Miss Randolph. She can use her own judgment.”

Louise wore an ill and sullen look, then realized what it would mean if Hilary informed Miss Randolph, and began to cry once more. “I didn’t think that you were such a mean girl,—to tell!”

“If I don’t, will you stop going out at night?”

“What good would it do for her to promise us?” inquired Lilian with surprising bluntness. “We can’t sit up nights to see that she keeps her promise.”

“Will you give me your key?” said Hilary.

Louise hesitated. “Y-yes,” she said, “if you will not tell.”

“Well, Louise, I’ve no desire to have you sent away, and I suppose that is what would happen. If you will give me your key and promise not to leave the hall at night, I will at least postpone telling Miss Randolph, and see what happens. There’ll be no more ‘Woman in Black’ nonsense, of course.”

“All right. I suppose I’ll have to do it. Here is the key.” Louise handed Hilary a key, while the other girls looked at each other as if to say, “Funny that she had it all ready like that.”

After the departure of Louise, Hilary sank into a rocking chair and dropped her hands in a gesture of helplessness upon her lap. “Did you ever!”

“Crocodile tears!” exclaimed Betty.

“Oh, her tears were genuine enough,” said Lilian, “and she got what she came for.”

“I suspect I was a goose,” said Hilary, “but perhaps she will be good, and I hate to tell things that will send a girl away from Greycliff.”

“Perhaps Evelyn will tell,” suggested Betty.

“Louise is probably there now,” said Lilian.

Sure enough, Evelyn came in a few minutes before the breakfast bell to ask if Louise had been there. “She wept and carried on till I didn’t know what to do with her, and begged me not to tell any of the teachers. I was so provoked with her that I wouldn’t promise, but finally said that I would do whatever Hilary thought best. You ought to have seen the funny little smile she had when I said that. She just said, ‘Very well,’ and pretended to go out in a bad humor, but I could tell that she thought it would be all right.”

“We’ll just let it go a while, Evelyn, and see. I didn’t promise never to tell.”

On the bulletin board, as the girls went to breakfast, there had already been put up notices of a senior class meeting, a “short meeting” of the Whittier Society, and regular basket-ball practice.

“You will have to have some one else take the minutes, Cathalina,” said Hilary, “for I can’t miss the practice.”

“Of course not. My, I’m glad that you are playing this year, Hilary. Now we shall be sure to win the tournament. It was terrible that we lost that time when you did not play. Of course we can beat the academy classes and I’m not afraid of the juniors now. Do you remember how nearly we came to winning that first year?”

“Indeed I do. How we worked! This will be my last year to play, though. Oh, of course, little games, perhaps, but I mean in competitive games of any consequence. We are getting in pretty good trim. You ought to see Juliet and Pauline make baskets. They almost never miss, if they have any kind of a chance.”

“It is only a few days until the big affair comes off.”

“Yes,—that was one reason why I didn’t want to have any trouble about Louise. I want to keep fit. I don’t feel any too lively today after last night’s late hours.”

“Cut your last class this morning and take a little nap before lunch. I’ll wake you up.”

“Oh, no! I’ll get through all right. I’ll get to bed early.”

For the next few days basket-ball was the chief topic of conversation at Greycliff. All the teams were “getting into shape,” as they said, and all the other girls were watching practice or inquiring about it and trying to prove that their class had the best team in school. “Time will tell,” said Hilary. “I’m glad we have a referee that is so strict about the rules. If we win, it will be a real victory.” Hilary was captain again.

“I declare, I don’t know which class I want to win,” said Isabel. “Of course, I want my own class to beat, but here are all your Psyche Club and Whittier chums in the senior class. Class spirit, however, is the thing in the tournaments,—hurrah for the junior collegiates!”

“I remember your leading the yells, Isabel, for the junior academy class at our first tournament. It was too funny. Avalon led the singing. Who would have thought that such a little mouse as she seemed at first would be so lively? I suppose that the academy girls will make as much noise as we did.”

“Are you going over for the Academy Tournament tonight?” asked Isabel. There had been a meeting of the Psyche Club at the “Olympic Portal” and the girls were chatting on after adjournment.

“Yes, indeed,” replied Hilary. “We want to see what our opponents can do, also get into the spirit of the game. All of us that are on the teams are going, and I guess that the other girls in our suite are going, aren’t you?” Hilary turned toward Cathalina and Betty, who stood near. “I know that Lilian is.”

“Aren’t we what?” asked Betty.

“Going to the Academy Tournament tonight. Old Hilary says that she wants to see her opponents, as if she were sure that it will be the senior collegiate that will play the winning academy class.” Thus Isabel.

“Too bad, Isabel, that you are a junior and can’t conscientiously root for us.”

“She talks as if I wanted to,” and Isabel turned to Virgie in pretended indignation.

There was great fun in the gymnasium that night. “Susan’s Band” had been revived and marched in between games with much playing upon combs, triangles and other difficult instruments. Four different classes had their class songs, class yells and unrepressed enthusiasms. Miss Randolph, who was present from a sense of duty, fairly put her hands over her ears as applause mingled with the closing strains and clashes from “Susan’s Band.” This was a longer performance than the contest between the junior and senior collegiates would be. That was to take place in a few days, provided no accident to the chief performers occurred tonight, to postpone the event of the contest between the winning academy team and that of the collegiates. But it was best to have the collegiates meet in battle early, for they too, might need time for recovery.

It was always determined by lot how the classes were to play. This time the freshmen, academy, met the sophomores and defeated them in a close game. The seniors and juniors played against each other, the juniors defeated. Both games were exciting, the scores nearly even. But the last game, between the excited little freshmen and the seniors was easily won by the senior class, with a score rather humiliating to the freshmen, but on the whole they were pleased to have been in the final game at all.

“It will be the seniors against seniors,” whispered Pauline to Juliet, who smiled at her and said, “Mayhap it will.”

Several days later, the gymnasium was again the scene of a real contest between the two collegiate classes. The seats were full of interested spectators from all the classes, academy and collegiate. Many of the teachers were there and some of the faculty wives who lived at Greycliff Heights. There was no uproar, the two classes contenting themselves with a few yells given at especially appropriate times, and the more dignified class songs of the upper classes, if any of the class songs can be called such at all. Very little nervousness, if any, was shown by either team at first, and the game began with much skill in evidence. Hilary’s forces began with success in getting the ball, and keeping it against much interference; the seniors made one basket after another, and the score was all in their favor. Then luck turned. Calamity of calamities, it was Juliet who fumbled and lost the ball to a junior, who tossed it some distance to a girl under their basket,—into which it went in a jiffy. After the ball was tossed, the juniors were again in possession. How the senior girls worked to get a chance once more, and when one of the juniors missed a basket it was a senior girl who captured the ball. Fast and furious waxed the efforts. For some time nobody could make a basket for the successful interference of opposing forces. But at last it was the senior class which was victorious, and as Pauline had said, it would be the seniors against the seniors in the final tournament.

The greatest interest, perhaps, centered in the first tournaments, for the academy classes were more interested in beating each other than in trying to win over the collegiates, while the senior and junior collegiates felt more eagerness to win from each other. However, at the last tournament the collegiate class always felt that they would be disgraced if beaten by the academy, a thing which rarely happened. The academy class which won in the academy tournament felt, moreover, that they must at least have a respectable score, and make it as hard as possible for their opponents to win. Then there was always the possibility of victory.

The senior academy of this year was especially good. Their team was made up of experienced players; their captain was a girl of good judgment and ability.

“Now, girls,” said Captain Hilary, “don’t imagine that we have already won this game. It may be close however. Remember how well these girls play. I feel sure that we can win if we are not over-confident and think that we need not play our best. Remember to keep your wits about you and feel that the game depends on how well each of you plays. I don’t think that this other team will try anything but straight, clean basket-ball, and let us be as careful. Look out that your interference is within rules.”

The senior collegiates had a little advantage over the other team in poise, but the academy girls were fast and eager. The game began under the close attention of a very much interested audience composed of the whole school, teachers, and as many visitors as the collegiate contest had boasted. The shrill whistle of the referee sounded “ever and anon,” as Isabel said to Cathalina, next to whom she sat, with a firm grip on Cathalina’s hand, which she clutched in her excitement. Cathalina said afterward that she could have shut her eyes and known how the game was going from Isabel’s grip and exclamations. This time, as a collegiate, Isabel had her heart with Hilary’s team. Isabel had grown out of the noisy period, but in tones loud enough to be heard by Cathalina, and by Virgie, on the other side of her, Isabel’s conversation ran on with the game. “O, get the ball, Hilary! That’s fine. Oh, mercy, she is going to try the basket herself instead of giving it to Pauline—she never can make it at that distance!” Quick withdrawal of Isabel’s hand from Cathalina’s, as with the rest of the audience she applauded Hilary’s placing the ball in the basket from an awkward position. “That was great! A few more plays like that—sakes, we’ve lost the ball now. How in the world did that happen! That guard ought not to have been there! Good work, Juliet. Another basket! For pity’s sake, keep the ball. Pshaw, what a fumble! Jump for it girlie. There,—our ball. Good play. But they are pretty good at keeping our girls from making a basket. ‘Toot-toot,’ time’s up.”

Cathalina turned laughing to Isabel. “You need a rest as much as the team, Isabel. Virgie, did you ever see anybody as tense? I begin to get that way, too, but I don’t dare; it makes me almost sick.”

Virginia assented. “I have to hold myself in hand, too, but it doesn’t make Isabel sick. She thrives on excitement. She will go right to sleep tonight, while I will be seeing the game for half an hour at least. How much are we ahead?”

“Not enough to feel easy about for the rest of the game,” said Isabel. “I’ve got to work just as hard the rest of the time,” she added, with a whimsical smile.

“How did it ever happen that you did not play basket-ball on one of the teams?” asked Virginia.

“Promised my father and Jim that I wouldn’t.”

“Aren’t they interested in athletics?”

“The boys play everything, but Father and Jim said I shouldn’t except in just ordinary games, like the regular practice we used to have at camp. I have to display my prowess in the water sports.”

“You shine there, Isabel,” said Virginia.

“But at that I had to be rescued by Cathalina last year.”

“That was because you were hit by that log or whatever it was.”

“Just the same, I would have drowned, like anybody that couldn’t swim, if it hadn’t been for her. Here they come. Now for the tug of war!”

But in this last half of the game the senior collegiates had no trouble, apparently, in walking off with the honors. Anticipating a close struggle, they made a great effort to hold the ball, and did brilliant playing when it came to baskets, receiving enthusiastic applause. This rather discouraged the younger seniors, who were tired and beginning to feel the excitement. For them, everything seemed to go wrong, as it sometimes does. When they had the ball, somebody would fumble, or the interference kept them from accomplishing anything. The game closed with a good score in favor of the senior collegiates. But they joined with the audience in giving the senior academy yell, and heartily returned the generous congratulations, which the losing team offered them, with many a warm statement about how good a game they had played.

Lilian, Eloise and several others of the guitar and mandolin club had brought their instruments to help lead the singing of Greycliff songs at the beginning of the tournament or contest, and now escorted the winning team home with much strumming and singing. Just before entering the solemn doors of Greycliff Hall, the players lined up and gave the senior yell with great spirit:

“Seniors ’rah! Seniors ’rah! ’Rah-rah, Seniors Col-le-gi-ate!”