That night Madame Deriby permitted the newcomers to retire to their rooms directly after supper. At that hour it was the custom of the pupils to gather in the big recreation hall, either to play games or to converse in groups of three or more. They were not permitted to remain in groups of two at Linden Hall.

As soon as Evelyn and the other girls from Sunnyside had gone, Gladys Merle called a meeting of her particular clique in a palm-sheltered corner.

“Well, what do you make of these new girls?” Anita Ryan asked. Anita never ventured an opinion of her own, being always content, it would seem, to echo Gladys Merle.

“I presume that some of them come from well-to-do families,” this young lady condescended to say, “but I am not so sure of all of them, and there is one among them whom I think we should especially ignore until we find out something definite about her social standing.”

“Which one is that?” Anita inquired.

“It’s the one who came first,” was the answer. “That Carol Lorens! Now, is there any way for us to find out how much money her father has?”

“I overheard Madame Deriby saying that the Lorens family were old friends of the Dartmoors and that surely ought to be enough for us,” little Janet Nagel declared.

Janet was not always as submissive a follower as Gladys Merle would wish.

“Well, hearsay is not enough for me if it is for you. I shall not associate with that girl until I know who she is, nor with any of the rest of them!” Gladys declared with a toss of her head.

“I have an aunt living near Sunnyside,” Anita said. “I’ll write her and ask about these new girls.”

“But Madame Deriby reads every letter that goes out of this school, and she never would permit us to write and inquire about the social standing of these new pupils,” Janet Nagel declared.

“Indeed, is that so?” Gladys Merle inquired with a slight lift of her brow. “I am quite sure that Madame Deriby does not read all of my letters, Miss Nagel. There are other ways of mailing them than in the school box, as perhaps you do not know.” Then turning to Anita she said, “Go up to your room and write that letter and then you and I will slip out to the front gate and put it in the letter box.”

Anita went and soon returned with the letter concealed in her pocket. They waited their chance and when all of the girls, with the teacher in charge, were interested in a basket-ball contest, they slipped out of the basement door and ran as fast as they could down the dark shrubbery-edged path to the gate which seemed very far away at night. Suddenly they heard footsteps crunching on the gravel walk. They darted behind a bush to hide and none too soon, for in another moment two figures appeared. One of them was Patrick O’Neil and the other was Billie, who assisted him in the gardens and stables.

“It’s mighty queer!” the boy was saying. “I am sure I saw somebody on the walk a minute ago, but now there isn’t anybody there.”

“Probably ’twas just shadows,” Patrick replied. “When the moon goes in and out behind the clouds, the way it’s doin’ to-night, it’s ghostly-lookin’ here under the trees.”

“I don’t believe it was shadows,” Bill insisted. “It might be robbers or something. I’m going to hunt among the bushes. Give me your flashlight.”

Gladys and Anita clung to each other scarcely daring to breathe. There was a moment of suspense and then Patrick said: “Guess I didn’t bring it. Thought I put it in my coat pocket. Come along, Bill. I tell you ’twasn’t nothing but shadows.”

The girls could see that Bill went reluctantly, and they didn’t dare creep out from behind the shrubbery until they were sure that the man and boy had reached the stables, but they didn’t know Bill.

He told Pat that he guessed he’d stay out a spell and watch the moon, but instead he hid not far from the girls, for he was very sure that he had not been mistaken. When the crunching footsteps were heard no more, Anita and Gladys crept out and ran at top speed for the gate. Bill, elated to find that he had not been wrong, darted behind the hedge and kept close back of them.

The gate was a long way from the school, and a large iron-framed lantern hung just above it. For one second the girls were in the full light, and Billie, who had hoped they were robbers, was indeed disappointed.

As they returned, he stepped out in front of them and said, “Huh! Nothin’ but girls. Breakin’ the rules, I s’pose.” Then, thrusting his hands in his pockets, he strode off toward the stables.

The two girls, keeping hidden in the shadows, crept back through the basement door and joined the others behind the palms.

“Well, the letter is safely mailed,” Anita whispered to the waiting group. “I told Auntie to be careful how she worded her answer so that Madame Deriby would not suspect that we had written.”

“You would probably be expelled if it were found out,” Janet remarked.

“Perhaps you are planning to tell on us, Miss Nagel,” Gladys Merle flashed.

“No, I’m not,” was the calm reply, “but probably Billie will, or Patrick.”

Gladys Merle, pretending not to hear, turned to Anita as she said, “We ought to have an answer from that letter in two or three days, so keep on the lookout.”