After dinner, Peggy Allison seized Jean by the arm and insisted that they go up on the hill to see if the lists of basket-ball candidates were posted. Jean knew in her heart that her name would not be among them, for the one fast rule of Ashton was that no girl was considered eligible for athletic contests unless her work was satisfactory in every department. For a moment she wanted to refuse Peggy, but she felt she must know about her disappointment sooner or later, and she might as well tell her now. So they walked slowly over to the gym and Peggy found Jean very quiet.

"What's the matter, Jean? What's troubling you?"

"Nothing, except I'm awfully disgusted with myself and you will be, too, for you aren't going to find my name among the basket-ball candidates. I didn't pass in my French, so of course I can't play. I knew all along it was going to be a toss-up whether I'd get through or not, but I hoped that lately I'd done well enough to make up for my poor beginning. However, I've made up my mind to one thing, and that is if I can't try for the basket-ball team I'll do something here before I leave."

"That's the proper spirit, Jean. I'm awfully sorry about your French, but every one admits that Mlle. Franchant is the hardest marker in college and flunks more freshmen than all the other profs together. But there's tennis left for you in the spring and the big tournament in June. Why don't you try to take the championship away from Natalie?"

"Oh, I couldn't beat her, but I'll go into the tournament if my French is all right. I'll study it morning, noon, and night and I'll pass it, too, for I've made up my mind. I'm not going over to basket-ball practice any more. Not that I'm grouchy because I can't play, but I'm going to put that time into studying. I'll be the very greasiest grind you ever saw, with a towel around my throbbing head as I burn the midnight oil night after night and drive my little room-mate to distraction. Speaking of Elizabeth, do you know, she's doing splendid work in oratory. In class last week she astonished every one. She gave that little poem 'Carcasson,' and when she had finished, Miss Moulton said, 'Excellent, Miss Fairfax, I'm going to ask you to give that to us again next week; it's something for us to anticipate.' And Elizabeth told me afterward that when class was dismissed that day 'Moultie' stopped her and congratulated her and told her she hoped she would enter prize speaking. Elizabeth said that she shouldn't think of such a thing, for in the first place she would never dare to get up in the chapel before every one, and in the second place she hadn't the time to put into it. But later on I'm going to try to persuade her to enter, and I think she will."

"I hope she will, Jean. Look at those girls around the bulletin board. We'll never get within a mile of it."

"Oh, yes, we will, Peg; wait a minute," and before they realized it both girls were gazing at the long list of names. There were two Merton House girls among them, Anne Cockran for the freshmen, and Sallie Lawrence for the sophomores, and as Jean saw their names she hid her own disappointment by saying gayly, "Oh, isn't it splendid that there are two Merton girls? I hope they'll make the teams. Won't it be exciting to have the two rivals in the house before the game?"

"Oh, Jean, you'll find excitement enough before the game and after it, too, for from now on there'll be plenty of spirit between you freshies and the sophs. Be on the watch, for you never can tell what the sophs will do next. You must be particularly careful about your flags and the class banquet, for those are the really great tests of strength or weakness of the freshmen class. Who's your chairman of the flag committee?"

"Florence Cummings, over in North, and I'm fortunate or unfortunate enough, whichever you consider it, to be on the committee with four others. We haven't met yet, but I think there's a meeting next week."

"Well, it's a mighty hard committee to serve on, and I don't envy you one bit. I hope you'll come out all right and win and float your flags, but make up your mind for some excitement." The two girls spent the rest of the afternoon walking over to Lookout Hill and the conversation changed from basket-ball and class rivalry to everything imaginable which could interest two such wide-awake college girls.

Classes settled down again after the excitement of midyear's, and if there were heartaches and bitter disappointments most of them were covered up with good resolutions and hard work. The girls who had failed and were obliged to return home were missed for a little and then forgotten. The seniors were realizing that it was their last half-year and were crowding as much as possible into it; the juniors seemed to be devoting themselves to social activities; and the lower classes were developing class spirit and two rival basket-ball teams.

It had been a custom from time immemorial at Ashton to have an annual basket-ball game between the freshmen and sophomores to decide which class might carry its flags for the rest of the year at all college events. If the freshmen were defeated in the game they gave up their flags to the sophomores, and if the sophomores were defeated they gave their flags to the freshmen. For several days before the game, and especially the one immediately preceding, each class strove to have one of its flags in some conspicuous place where it could remain without being hauled down by the rival class. It always took carefully laid plans on the part of the freshmen, and great precaution in executing them to outwit the wily sophs, and few freshmen classes could boast among their victories the successful raising of their flag. Then after the basket-ball game, as soon as possible, the freshman class held a banquet, either to celebrate its victory or find consolation in its defeat. If the sophomores could prevent the banquet from taking place, all the more glory for them, and they watched and plotted and made life miserable for the anxious freshmen.

Classes come and classes go, but customs live on forever, and 1914 and 1915 were no exceptions to the rule and had made great preparations for the fray. Jean Cabot and the other members of the flag committee held secret meetings for days and days at Edith McAllister's house. When Edith came to Ashton, her mother, being the only other member of her family, had come with her and hired a small house in the shadow of the college where the two lived happily together. Mrs. McAllister had a sewing machine and could help the girls with their sewing. They had over a hundred and fifty small flags to make in order that every girl in the class might have one to carry to the game, besides several large ones to display in the gymnasium. The college color was blue, and 1915 had chosen white as its class color, so the numerals, 1915, were to be of white and sewed on the blue background. The flags were made of cheese-cloth and had to be cut out and hemmed and then the numerals were to be stitched on. Only a few of the girls knew how to run a sewing machine, so it took some time to get them done.

But at last they were finished and the next thing was to know what to do with them, for if one of the sophs scented them out and captured them they were lost forever and the freshmen disgraced. Finally it was decided to lock them in a small trunk which belonged to Mrs. McAllister, and the trunk was to be placed in the attic and the door locked and the two keys put on a ribbon and worn round Mrs. McAllister's neck night and day. The one flag which the freshmen hoped to fly before the game was entrusted to the chairman, Florence Cummings, who sewed it on to her petticoat the day she carried it to her dormitory. All the other flags, however, were to remain in their hiding-place until the day of the game.

Each dormitory had girls from both classes to act as spies and watch all proceedings and report suspicious actions to a general committee. Jean was chosen from the freshman class in Merton and found her hands full. On the day before the game, very early in the morning, it was whispered around the Hill that the sophomore flag was flying in the middle of the "Pond," as the girls called the small open reservoir, just back of the college buildings, which supplied a neighboring city with water. It did not take long for the rumors to be verified, and in a few moments nearly every girl in college had been to the "Pond" to see the small blue and orange flag floating in the water. There was much speculation as to how it could have been placed there, for the water, which was some ten feet below the surface of the ground, was held in by solid walls of masonry which seemed impossible to scale. But there was the flag, holding its head as high as any of the sophs who said nothing, but went about their recitations with a satisfied smile upon their faces which seemed to say, "You see our flag; well, get it if you can."

The freshmen said nothing, but one could see disappointment on every face. The flag committee held an animated session at Mrs. McAllister's and then started out to work. Not a sign of a freshman flag all day long and apparently there was to be no attempt to remove the sophomore one, for to the casual observer that seemed impossible. There was not a boat nor a ladder, nor a rope anywhere in evidence around the "Pond," and the grumbly old watchman sat in his little box of a house at the northwest corner placidly smoking his pipe as though nothing had happened, all the while refusing to offer any suggestions to the numberless inquiries which poured in upon him. At nightfall the flag was still where it had been all day and the lofty sophs felt the victory was theirs, for the freshmen, to all appearances, had given up the attempt to capture it. There was tense excitement in all the dormitories during supper and the early hours of the evening, but it seemed to subside a little as bedtime approached.

As Elizabeth and Jean turned out their lights and crept into bed, Elizabeth said, "Isn't it a shame, Jean, to be defeated at the very outset? It looks bad for the game in spite of all belief in signs. They say the even-year classes never are lucky, you know. Aren't you tired after such a strenuous day? I for one will be glad when the suspense is all over and the game is won or lost. You'll be worn to a thread if you do much more running around."

"Yes, I am tired, Beth; but it's worth while working for the class. Luck does seem against us now, but don't give up yet; there's plenty of time for things to happen. Good night," and Jean turned on her pillow as though to sleep.

Shortly after twelve o'clock, if one had been looking she might have seen girls hurrying from the different dormitories in the direction of Mrs. McAllister's house. On the small porch stood Edith and her mother ready to welcome the girls. "Come into the house and drink some hot coffee before we start, for it's bitter cold in spite of the fact that it's March. What time do you expect your man?"

The girls were so excited that they declared they did not want the coffee, but preferred to wait on the porch for the arrival of the automobile which was to bring Mr. Doherty, professional swimmer and diver.

"He promised to be here at quarter-past twelve," said Florence Cummings, "but I'm sure it's that now. What if he shouldn't come after all, and spoil our plans? I wish I'd offered him more money, but he seemed perfectly satisfied with my proposition. I think I'd almost be tempted to jump in myself if he didn't come. I don't just like the idea of an ice-cold bath, but I could do the swim all right. Are the ladder and rope here? Joe said he would bring them down after ten."

"Yes," said Edith, "they're in the cellar with the lantern. Isn't it fortunate that there isn't a moon? It's dark as a pocket, so no one can see us. I can hear an automobile now. It must be the Hon. Mr. Doherty."

In a moment a small roadster drew up in front of the porch and a stalwart youth alighted and approached the group. Florence Cummings greeted him with, "Good evening, is this Mr. Doherty? It's so dark I can hardly see you, but I'm Miss Cummings who interviewed you this afternoon."

"Yes, Miss Cummings, it's me."

"I was beginning to fear you weren't coming. You see it's very important work you have to do for us to-night and I think we'd better begin at once. Everything is ready and we will do exactly as you suggested this afternoon."

"Yes, mum. I'm sorry to be late, but my auto broke down just after I was leavin' Boston and it took me some time to fix it, but I'm ready now."

And then the little procession started, Mr. Doherty carrying one end of the long ladder and two of the girls helping on the other end. The other girls followed in the rear with Mrs. McAllister to chaperon them. They took a long roundabout way to avoid crossing the campus, and all waited a moment at the foot of the hill while Jean hastened up to the "Pond" to see if by any chance some of the sophs were on guard. Not a trace could she find of a girl, so she ran back to the others who anxiously awaited her. Then they all, silently and cautiously, followed her up to the spot agreed upon for the work.

They had chosen the end of the reservoir farthest away from the college, and Mr. Doherty let down the long ladder until it reached the water. The heavy ropes which were tied securely around the ends of the ladder he trailed along the ground and tied firmly around the base of a tree which stood near by. Then taking off his overcoat and suit of clothes which covered his woolen bathing suit, he crept down the ladder and silently dropped into the water and swam toward the center of the reservoir. It took him some time to locate the little flag and loose it from its anchor, but finally it was done and he swam back and climbed the ladder and dropped the flag into Florence Cummings' lap. Then he drew up the ladder, untied the ropes, wrapped his fur coat around him and they hurried back to Mrs. McAllister's where the swimmer took a hot bath and a rub-down and drank what seemed to the girls gallons of coffee. Then he jumped into his automobile and was off to the city.

It took the girls several moments to realize that what they had been working for so hard really had been accomplished and the coveted sophomore flag was here in their possession.

"Now what shall we do with it?" said Florence Cummings.

"I think the best place for it is in the trunk with the others," said Jean, and the rest agreed. Thereupon Mrs. McAllister removed the keys from her neck and Edith and Florence took two candles and went up to the attic and placed the flag with the others, after which they came downstairs for the last consultation of the flag committee. Although they had captured the sophomore flag they had not yet displayed their own, and to be effective it must be in evidence on the following morning and there remained but a few hours before sunrise. It was finally decided to fly it from the top of one of the dormitories. It would look like a tiny speck at such a height, but it would be beyond the reach of the enemy if carefully guarded until noon, when hostilities were to stop until the game itself. To make everything fair, lots were to be drawn and the girl drawing the piece of paper marked "3" was to have the honor of flying the flag from her dormitory. Mrs. McAllister cut the pieces of paper and marked them and then held them out to the girls. "Come, draw quickly, girls," and she approached Jean, who stood nearest her. Without hesitation Jean drew the paper nearest her and after one look waved the tiny white paper over her head, crying, "The die is cast! That flag shall fly from Merton or I'll die in the attempt. Come, fellow-conspirators, let us away that I may begin this bloody business," and the girls started back to the dormitories, Mrs. McAllister and Edith accompanying each one to the doors of the dormitories, where accomplices from within awaited their arrival.

Anne Cockran had been chosen to guard Merton and she fairly pulled Jean into the reading-room to hear about the night's adventure. "No, not to-night, Anne, we've too much to do; we got the flag all right but now you've got to help me fly our flag from Merton. Don't ask me any questions, just do as I say and I'll tell you the rest in the morning. Get some sweaters and heavy coats and meet me at the roof-stairway as soon as you can."

Each girl went silently to her room and collected as much heavy clothing as she could find and met as agreed upon at the stairway on the fifth floor which led to the flat roof above. "Now," said Jean, "I mean to go up on the roof and nail this flag to this flag-stick and tie it to the front projection of the roof where it can be seen by every one on the Row. After I have fastened it securely I shall come down to the stairs and lock the door with the key inside. I shall put these pillows and sweaters and coats on the stairs and make myself as comfortable as possible and stay there until twelve o'clock, so that our flag may be safe. When I want a little air I can go up on the roof or just keep the door open a bit. I've got plenty of crackers, so I won't starve. It's lucky to-morrow is a holiday, for I won't be cutting and no one can say I am breaking rules. It's only a few hours now till breakfast, so I must get a little sleep and you, too, Anne, or you'll be in no condition for the game. I'm all right; don't worry about me; 1915 will fly its flag, even if we are beaten at the game. We've broken one tradition and perhaps we can the others," and Jean, shut the little door, locked it and went up on the roof to execute her plans.

She had a little electric light which she flashed every now and then to guide her over the flat pebbly roof until she found the corner projection. She nailed the flag to the flag-stick and tied it securely to the iron cornice. Her fingers seemed almost frozen when she finished, but her heart beat wildly as she thought that for the first time she was really doing something worth while for 1915. If she couldn't play basket-ball she could do this much, which was a victory, too, though in a smaller way. She got back to the stairway and settled down on her improvised couch, but, try as she might, sleep would not come. It seemed ages to her before the breakfast bell rang and then to satisfy her nervous hunger she munched some hard, dry crackers. She knew now that in a few moments the loss of the sophomore flag would be discovered and the freshman flag flying from Merton would enrage every Ashton sophomore and bring joy to the hearts of the freshmen.

Suddenly, it seemed to grow close on the stairs and Jean opened the upper door and breathed in the cool morning air which refreshed her. One look at the flag assured her that it was safe and still waved proudly in the breeze. She gazed out over the college and admitted to herself that she was beginning to love it all, and was so glad that she was a part of it, even though only a very small, insignificant part. With the fresh air and renewed courage she went back to the stairs and waited. She heard the girls go up and down the corridors and she longed to ask them about the flag, but remained perfectly quiet.

Presently she heard the sound of whispers and stealthy footsteps outside the door and then some one tried the knob. They evidently expected to find the door locked, for they shook and twisted the knob and rattled the door as if they meant to do business. She heard one girl say, "It's no use; the key's in the lock and we can do nothing unless we break the lock. Now's our only chance while the freshies are at mass meeting. Couldn't we get some tools somewhere? What do burglars generally use, anyway, when they break open locks?"

"I don't know," some one answered, "but couldn't we get something sharp and a screw-driver and then unfasten the screws and take off the lock on this side and push the handle through, then perhaps we could push the key out and pry open the lock. Let's go down into the basement and see if we can beg, borrow, or steal some tools from Joe. We'll tell him we want to fix our trunks. We must hurry, though, for those freshies will be back here soon and on guard again," and they hurried down the corridor.

Jean had listened to their plans with increasing fright. Suppose they did break open the lock, what could she do then? They did not suspect that she was there, and probably thought it would be smooth sailing if they could but open the door. She went up on the roof to see if by any chance she could find something to brace the door but all that presented themselves to her eyes were two brooms which some careless girl had left on the roof after sweeping her rugs, and an iron shovel which had probably been used last to shovel a path through the snow so that the maids could do their sweeping. Jean seized all three implements of warfare and hurried back again to the stairs and braced the shovel and then the brooms against the door. She knew the brooms would not do much good but she had more faith in the shovel. If the sophs were determined to get in at any costs, she would give them a hard struggle.

Before long the sophomores returned and in addition to the tools, she felt sure they had brought more girls to help out. There was a scraping of a file and the turning of the screw-driver and Jean knew they were working as hard and as fast as they could. She wondered how near twelve o'clock it could be and if the mass meeting would ever be over. If they would only hurry, for in a few moments it might be too late! From the conversation outside the door the girls seemed confident that they would succeed, and were glorying in their luck. Just then Jean heard many footsteps on the stairs and a shout and as she listened she heard a tremendous shout of, "Rah, Rah, Rah, Freshmen; Rah, Rah, Rah, 1915; Rah, Rah, Rah, Jean Cabot; Rah, Rah, Rah, the flag," and she recognized Elsie Gleason's voice saying, "Unlock the door, Jean; it's twelve o'clock and we've won! We've come to thank you for what you've done. Come out where we can see you." When Jean opened the door she saw the hallway and the stairs filled with the freshmen, who sent up cheer after cheer for what she had done, but there was not a trace of a sophomore except the tools which they had dropped in their hasty flight.

All Jean could say was, "Thank you, girls. I've only done what all of you would have done if you'd had the opportunity. I must go down now and get ready for the game, and I'm hungry, too. Is lunch ready?"

Then the long procession turned and led Jean to her room, where it gave one mighty last cheer and then dispersed, and Jean closed the door upon them and sank down upon her couch and cried for real joy.