Real night hawks fly by day as well as by night. It is not unusual to hear and see one as it circles over the city at near noon and calls its loud “Kee-ou.” And at night many a tempting insect, fit for a night hawk’s menu, flutters about the city lights. The name, then, which Isabel had given to the aeroplane was not so inappropriate. “There’s the Night Hawk,” she would say when the droning sound was heard. Whether there was only one plane, which chose this neighborhood for its manoeuvers, or several they did not know.

Greycliff girls were more busily occupied than ever, it seemed. The seniors were practicing and learning parts for the senior play, planning a Collegiate Field Meet with the juniors, preparing for final examinations, paddling, rowing, having beach parties, and rushing out at odd times to see the wood warblers, which were going through or stopping to nest there.

One afternoon about four o’clock, Betty, Isabel and Pauline were over in the meadows which stretched away from the foot of “high hill,” having been lured there by an ever-disappearing warbler, which would sing its little song and then fly to some farther perch. Now the song came from a little clump of bushes and small trees in the center of an expanse of meadow land.

“Oh, I wish it would be a chat,” sighed Isabel.

“It can’t be,” said Betty. “Its song is more like that of a myrtle warbler.”

“If it is a myrtle warbler, after all this chase, I shall be all out of patience,” declared Isabel. “Every other warbler I’ve seen is a myrtle warbler or a chestnut-sided! Hilary has seen ten different kinds already!”

“Listen, girls,” said Pauline, “there’s the plane right over us.”

Betty and Isabel looked up. “The Night Hawk,” said Isabel. “Why, there’s something the matter; it’s coming down!”

“Perhaps it’s just landing,” suggested Betty. “This is a good place.”

Realizing that they might be in the way, they scurried for safety’s sake to the little clump which they had been watching, and stood there to see the aeroplane land.

“There are two men!” said Pauline in surprise, as the aviators climbed out and one of them began to adjust something about the plane. “I’d like to turn the field glasses that way. I wonder if I couldn’t be looking at a meadow lark or something and accidentally swing the glasses around toward them!”

“I fear that it would not be very polite,” said Betty, laughing, “and I imagine that the better part of valor would be for us to start for the Hall.”

But no sooner had Betty spoken than they observed the idle aviator in the act of turning a field glass in their direction. A look seemed to satisfy him, for he touched his helmet in salute, and came hurrying over the grass toward them.

“What shall we do?” asked Betty.

“Wait and see who he is. He might be Donald.”

“No, it isn’t Donald at all,—it looks like,—it is—Oh, dear, help me to be polite, girls!”

“How fortunate I am,” said Captain Holley, as he came up to the girls. “My friend was taking me for my first ride in an aeroplane and something about it was not just right. I was quite glad to reach terra firma in safety. I suppose this is part of a bird class?” The captain was assuming all the dignity and patronage which as a teacher in a neighboring school he could take.

“Yes, Captain Holley,” replied Isabel, with remarkable meekness. “We were looking for a warbler and found a night hawk instead,—I have called this plane that we hear occasionally the ‘night hawk’,” she added on noticing that Captain Holley looked a little taken aback and startled. “Is it an army plane?” she continued, not thinking that as an ‘enemy alien’ he would not be permitted to ride in one.

“No, not exactly,” replied Captain Holley. “A friend of mine is experimenting. By the way, Miss Betty, do you know whether our young friend Donald Hilton has gone across yet?”

“No, I think not, but I think that he is to sail soon with one of the convoys.”

“Do you know the vessel on which he will sail?” continued Captain Holley pleasantly and with an air of slight preoccupation, as he looked back at the plane and the busy aviator. Isabel nudged Betty at this juncture, and replied for her:

“Oh, none of the boys know what vessel they are to go on or when, you know.”

Captain Holley, with perfect poise, paid no attention to Isabel’s reply, but looked inquiringly at the young lady whom he had addressed. Betty hesitated. “I have not heard for some time, but he wrote that he was hoping to go over before long. I know nothing definite.”

“Perhaps Donald will be back to see his friends before he goes,” suggested Captain Holley.

“I do not know as to that,” said Betty. “When men are in the army their time is not their own. Do not the people at Grant hear from their boys?”

“Sometimes,” assented Captain Holley.

The girls began to move off and Captain Holley managed to fall in by Betty and to detain her a little, while the other girls had no choice but to go in advance, though slowly.

“May I call some evening, Miss Betty?” asked Captain Holley.

“Certainly,” said Betty, who did not know how to get out of it, and felt that for some unknown reason she must keep this young instructor in a good humor.

“By the way,” said the young man, after he had thanked Betty and said that he would be over some time soon, “I found something which interested me very much the other day.” Unbuttoning his outer coat a little way, he touched, upon the lapel of the coat beneath, a little butterfly pin.

“O!” exclaimed Betty, “my butterfly pin!”

“But you have one,” smiled Captain Holley, buttoning his outer coat again.

“I had to send for another. Oh, you wouldn’t keep my pin, Captain Holley! Why, it has my name on it, and everything. Please!”

But the captain merely smiled, made her a bow, and went back with rapid steps to the aeroplane whose aviator was beckoning.

“What do you think, girls!” exclaimed Betty. “He has my butterfly pin and wouldn’t give it to me!”

“Why, the idea!” exclaimed Pauline.

“That is certainly the limit!” said Isabel.

“And worst of all he was wearing it right on the lapel of his coat for everybody to see, and some of the boys over there know all about our Psyche Club.”

“I saw him fixing something before he started over toward us,” said Pauline. “I imagine he was putting it there. I don’t think that for his own sake he would wear it around there at Grant. He just wanted to tease you. He likes you, Betty.”

“He takes a funny way to show it, then.”

“I nudged you, Betty,” said Isabel, “because I thought if you did know anything about Donald’s sailing it would be better not to tell him. He might possibly tell some spy,——”

“Or be one himself,” added Pauline.

“Oh, no,” said Betty kindly. “I guess he isn’t that bad, though he has done some funny things.”

“What are you going to do about the pin?”

“When he comes over to call, I’ll try to persuade him to give it to me, and if he doesn’t, I’ll ask Miss Randolph what to do, though I would hate to have her know anything about it. Oh, I guess I can persuade him. But he has gotten so flirtatious lately whenever I have seen him. At that faculty party they had last week, when we girls served for them, Captain Holley came over to me, and talked and talked.”

“What did he talk about, Betty?”

“Oh, he wanted to know if Louise was pleasant to the girls, and if they like her,—that was a poser, but I got around it some way, and spoke of that compliment Patty gave her on her Latin lessons. Then he talked about me, always a pleasing subject, of course,” Betty’s dimples were in evidence then. “And he talked about himself, also, hinted that his family fortunes were going to change for the better, and asked me if I liked to travel.”

“Betty, you mischief! You are making that up!”

“Indeed, Pauline, I’m not. He would look at me once in a while, to see if I were taking it in. Of course, I was only seeing him out of the corner of my eye, and would raise a bland countenance to him and ask him some question about Grant, or something,—anything!”

“He is very handsome,” said Pauline, “has so much style, but it is hard to be fair now to an enemy alien no matter how innocent he may be.”

“Style?” said Isabel, “I call it pomposity. Look out for him, Betty.”

“I will,” laughed Betty, “but I’ll have to be nice till I get my pin back.”

“He found out whether you wrote to Donald or not, didn’t he?”

“Yes, Isabel, or rather that Donald wrote to me.”

“Well, the night hawk drove away the warblers from this spot and we’d better go back. I think that the aviator of the night hawk is a skilled gentleman. Look at the way it is performing up there.”

“Do you suppose that it really was Captain Holley’s first trip?”

“I doubt it, Pauline,” replied Isabel. “To change the subject, girls, do you mind if Virgie and I come over tonight to talk with you girls about the Inter-Society Debate? We want to have every point that can be thought up for and against. Sometimes it helps to talk it over with somebody who has not been thinking about the subject and has a different viewpoint.”

“We’ll be delighted to have you come,” said Betty, “but we are not a bit worried about the result of the contest, with you and Virgie on our team. It is the first time that there have been two juniors with such responsibility.”

“That is what worries us, for fear we won’t come up to expectations.”

“Have you gotten your main speeches ready?”

“Yes, and notes on all the points that we think they can bring up, ready for rebuttal. We’ve even spouted against each other, taking the different sides, either finding a weak point or defending a point. It is lots of fun, but takes so much time from our lessons!”

“All for the glory of the Whittiers, though, and it will soon be over with victory for us,—depend upon it.”

“I hope so, but Jane Mills will be fine, has so much self-confidence and a splendid memory for what her opponents have said.”

“Your memory is just as good, and your enthusiasm, united with having real arguments, will certainly carry the day for us. Hurrah for the Whittiers!”

“There go Eloise and Hilary, comparing bird lists, I suspect,” said Pauline. “Mercy, Cathalina, how you startled me!”

The girls were passing a tall hedge of bushes not far from the “pest house” just as Cathalina and the slim Juliet slipped between bushes, without seeing the girls, and crept along a step or two, on the bird trail also.

“Cathalina, you looked just like an ovenbird then,” said Isabel,—“like this,” and Isabel gave an exaggerated imitation of a stealthy walk. “Anyone would know that you and the ovenbird belong to The Stealthy Prowlers. Pauline scared your bird away, didn’t she?”

“That’s right, blame it on Pauline,” said that young lady.

“You were the one that called out, weren’t you?”

“I was, but then we were all hurrying along and talking. Cathalina, what do you suppose is the latest adventure of your giddy room-mate?”

“I’m sure I couldn’t guess,” said Cathalina, tucking back a sunny lock and brushing a dry leaf or two from her blue sweater. “What have you been doing now, Betsey?”

“Nothing at all but trying to find a warbler.”

“She found a night hawk instead,” said Isabel. “A gay young Lochinvar came out of the skies, and doubtless would have carried her off had it not been for Pauline and me.”

“Listen to Isabel’s raving!” exclaimed Betty. “I’ll tell you how it was, girls. It was an interesting adventure, but I was a passive observer.”

Betty’s account of the descending plane was a spirited one and the climax thereof was the sight of the butterfly pin on the lapel of the Captain’s coat.

“Oh, Betty!” exclaimed Lilian. “I don’t think that was a gentlemanly thing to do at all. I wonder what will happen to you next!”