Ever since Lily Andrews had taken up her duties as sophomore president she found a noticeable change in the attitude of certain members of the class towards her. Foremost among this group were Ruth Henry and Evelyn Hopkins, who boasted proudly among the other girls of their friendship with the president. If Ruth harbored any resentment against her successful rival, she carefully concealed it; and most of her classmates spoke of her as Lily Andrews' "right-hand man."

Without a doubt, Ruth was a great help to the new officer. Marjorie, always more interested in athletics and Scout affairs, paid only a half-hearted attention to Lily's official problems; and Doris Sands was really tired out and needed a rest. So, in sheer desperation, Lily sought Ruth, and always found her interested and helpful.

One afternoon when Marjorie was out walking with Alice Endicott, Lily, with notebook and pencil in hand, hurried over to Ruth's room. She found her sitting languidly beside her wicker tea-table, playing with the tea-ball, and carrying on a disconcerted conversation with Evelyn.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to knock, Lily Andrews!" she exclaimed. "I thought you knew us well enough by this time——"

Lily laughed, nevertheless highly flattered. It is always more or less of a triumph to conquer a dislike, and Lily felt genuinely pleased at the change in Ruth's attitude toward her.

"You're awfully good——" she began.

"Not at all!" protested Ruth. "But Evelyn and I are always at home to our friends!" Then, noticing the notebook, "What's the important business now, Lil?"

"Oh, it's class stuff again! I want your advice, Ruth."

"It's yours for the asking!" replied the hostess, magnanimously, well pleased to be so obviously within the "inner circle."

"You really ought to be class president, Ruth. You do more work than I do, and don't get the credit."

"I don't want credit," lied Ruth; "all I want is our class's good."

"Yes, I know. Well, here is my present trouble. You know, every single class since the foundation of the school has succeeded in holding their meeting in spite of the sophomores' attempt at interference. Why can't we break the spell? What could we possibly do?"

Ruth sat up straight in her chair and half closed her eyes, lost in contemplation.

"We will break the spell!" she announced, slowly. "I think I have a new idea!"

"Ruth, you are so clever!" exclaimed Evelyn, who could not keep out of the conversation. "I almost believe you can do it!"

"Tell us what your plan is!" begged Lily, impatient with even a moment's unnecessary delay.

"The private detective system—and by that I mean to have each girl in our class responsible for one or two freshmen, and know where they are every minute of the day. In that way, all of us would really be on guard all the time!"

"Wonderful!" cried Lily enthusiastically. "Would it really be possible to do it?"

"I don't see why not; the struggle lasts only six weeks—nearly two are gone already. And if everybody will work——"

"That's great, Ruth," interrupted Lily, deciding instantly to adopt the plan; "I'll post a notice for a meeting this very evening, and we'll put it up to the class. Then, if everybody approves of the scheme, I want you to be chairman of the Vigilance Committee—the leader, you know, to whom the girls would report any suspicions."

Ruth's heart gave a bound of delight: the appointment was just what she desired. With a little tact and diplomacy, she could make Lily a mere figure-head, and herself the power behind the throne; in this manner she could pave the way for her own election to the presidency for junior year.

But she did not dare to betray to Lily the fact that she was eager for the office. She even hesitated a moment before she accepted.

"Of course it will mean an awful lot of work, but if you really think I am capable, Lily, you know I'd do anything for the sake of the class."

"Of course you're capable," reassured the other, "and you must take it. It will remove a big weight from my mind, too, if you do."

The girls discussed the matter in detail, while Evelyn made tea. Then, refreshed and encouraged, Lily returned to her own room.

At the class meeting that evening, when Lily announced that Ruth Henry was chairman of the Vigilance Committee, the general wave of surprise that spread over the room was apparent. For most of the girls remembered how ungraciously the latter had treated her the previous year, before there was any talk of Lily's rising to prominence. But the act only served to enhance the admiration the girls felt for their president; they realized anew how magnanimous she was, and how much she valued the good of the class.

Ruth presented her plan so effectively that it was immediately approved and adopted. Each girl was allowed to select her own freshman, for, as Ruth remarked, if the sophomores chose their particular friends there would be less cause for suspicion. She herself picked out two charges—Esther Taylor and Florence Evans—both girls of unusual energy. Marjorie Wilkinson naturally selected Alice Endicott. Each sophomore was equipped with a whistle which she was instructed to blow if necessary, unless she happened to be inside of the dormitory building. And since, according to Miss Allen's rules, it was forbidden to hold the meeting before the rising bell in the morning, or after the supper bell in the evening, the difficulty of the problem was reduced fifty per cent.

The freshmen, in the meantime, were striving to formulate some definite plan for concerted action. But with no officers to assume responsibility or give directions, and with no opportunity for general discussion, there seemed to be little hope of their getting together. However, as in all cases heretofore, they relied upon the resourcefulness and hesitance of the junior president.

The holder of that office was Ethel Todd, one of the very cleverest of the Girl Scouts. Exceptionally capable, she usually accomplished what she set out to do. When she learned that Ruth Henry was chairman of the Vigilance Committee she was more determined than ever to check-mate any plans the other might make. Taking matters in her own hands, she arranged for a thorough consultation with Florence Evans and Mildred Cavin, whom she considered class leaders.

"Ruth Henry has some clever scheme," she informed them, "you can just depend on that. But I mean to beat her, no matter how perfect her system is," she added. She had never forgiven Ruth for the contemptible manner in which she had treated Marjorie the previous year, and she could not resist the temptation to do everything in her power to get even.

So she set about to discover the sophomore's plan, and to outwit the girls if she could. She watched Ruth's movements closely, and saw her follow Esther Taylor to the library the following afternoon, remain there as long as the freshman did, and come out again a few seconds afterward, dogging her footsteps to the hockey field. This same occurrence took place the day after; at the same time she perceived that Lily Andrews seemed always close on the trail of Mildred Cavin, and Marjorie of Alice Endicott. Ethel retired to her own room to think over this in quiet.

What could it all mean? Did Ruth and Lily and Marjorie think that the other freshmen could not hold a meeting without these few girls—that they, leaders though they were, were indispensable? She glanced out of the window and saw Daisy Gravers walking down the path to the gate; a few steps behind her came Doris Sands, apparently unconcerned about things in general, but every now and then glancing at Daisy, and then looking hastily toward the dormitory. Then, in a flash, the system was disclosed to the junior President!

"PRIVATE DETECTIVE SYSTEM!" she exclaimed aloud, jumping suddenly to her feet. "Each freshman shadowed by a soph!"

She hit upon a brilliant, yet simple, plan. She would beat Ruth by cleanliness! Accordingly, she wrote forty notes to forty freshmen, telling them to wear kimonas, carry soap and towels, and be in the shower-bath compartment on the third floor at one minute after seven the following day. If the sophomores were up early enough to notice the freshmen's absences, they would not suspect anything unusual in such a proceeding.

The next morning was a dark one, and, much to her annoyance, Ruth overslept by ten minutes. Jumping up suddenly, she hastily put on her bathrobe, and, passing along the hall by way of Esther Taylor's and Florence Evans' rooms, made her way toward the shower. She did not hear any stir as she went by the freshmen's doors, but being late, she hurried on. A moment later, she reached the shower-bath compartment.

As she was just about to enter, the swinging door was abruptly flung open, and a noisy crowd of girls, in kimonas and bath-robes, almost knocked her over. They were freshmen, and they were all tremendously happy over something; in a flash, she read the news of their victory. She did not even need Mildred Cavin's announcement: "Florence Evans is freshman president!" to confirm her fears.

The hot blood rushed to Ruth's face as she caught sight of Ethel Todd's triumphantly gleaming eyes. Dejected, defeated, she disappeared into the shower to drown her disappointment in cold water.

For, in her own imagination, she saw the junior presidency fading from her grasp!