The freshman banquet was always held as soon after the game as possible in the hotel of some neighboring town, easy of access but out of the reach of the sophs. It took a great deal of clever planning to escape their vigilant watch, and many a time freshman classes never succeeded in gathering at this festive occasion, but 1915 was a very energetic class and determined at any cost to outwit their rivals. They agreed among themselves that the banquet should be held the following Monday evening at Langley Inn, Southtown, about twelve miles from Ashton, and the girls were to assemble there before six o'clock. No two girls were to be seen leaving the Hill at the same time, and they could take the train, the electric cars or walk to near-by towns and leave from there. Miss Hooper and Miss Moulton of the faculty were to chaperon them and bring them back to college when the celebration was over.

A little after six o'clock on the evening agreed upon, Lois Underwood, chairman of the banquet committee, walked through the reception-rooms of the Langley Inn to assemble the girls into the dining-room. "Are we all here, girls? I'll call the roll first and let every girl reply, 'Here,' as her name is called." It did not take long to discover that Bess Johnson, basket-ball captain and star of the recent game, Edith McCausland, class president, and Jean Cabot, heroine of the flag-raising, were the only ones missing. "Who knows anything about these girls?" asked Lois, anxiously. Instead of an individual answer, there was a universal shout of "The sophs! They've captured them."

"Well," said Lois, "perhaps we had better wait a few moments before we begin to eat, for they may only have been delayed. If any thing has happened to them we shall be terribly disappointed, but as so many of us are here we will carry out our original plans, and hope for the best about the missing ones."

Just then one of the maids entered the reception-room. "Is Miss Lois Underwood here? She is wanted at the telephone in the office."

"Oh, probably it's from one of the girls. I'll be right back in a minute and tell you what has happened."

But when she returned, her face did not look as though she were pleased with the message she had received. "It was Jean Cabot telephoning, but all she said was, 'I sha'n't be at the banquet to-night.' Probably one of those horrid sophs has her imprisoned, and made her telephone that without any explanation, so it would be all the harder to bear."

"Are you sure it was Jean talking?" asked Elizabeth Fairfax. "Perhaps a soph did it to deceive us."

"No; I recognized Jean's voice all right, in spite of the tone of anger. I call it mighty hard luck, for Jean was to reply to the toast, 'How I Raised the 1915 Flag.' Of course it's an old story with most of you now, but none of us will ever get tired of hearing Jean tell it in that inimitable style of hers."

Again a maid summoned Lois to the telephone, and she returned again with a downcast face. "It's Edith McCausland this time and all she said was, 'Don't expect me at the banquet to-night,' and before I could ask her the reason she had hung up the receiver."

"And are you sure it was Edith talking this time?" asked another doubting freshman.

"Yes, quite sure, for no one could mistake her deep-toned voice. Another of our speech-makers gone. Well, all I've got to say is that some of the rest of you will have to speak impromptu, for we must have toasts even if the sophs have stolen our famous after-dinner speakers."

As the maid appeared smiling a third time at the door Lois said, "You needn't tell me I'm wanted at the telephone again, for I know it's Bess Johnson this time to give me the same old message. I'm not going to answer, for it's only giving more satisfaction to the sophs, and they can keep ringing all night if they want to, but I'll not answer them. Tell them Miss Underwood is too busy to answer the telephone. Come, girls, let us go into the dining-room. Take any seat you wish; we won't try to find our place cards, for we haven't any. Let's sing our class song as we march in. Nell Butler, will you please go to the piano and play for us?"

Obliging Nell, who always was called upon to furnish music at all the freshman doings, hurried to the piano and struck the opening chords of the class song, and then the girls broke into song and marched double-file into the long dining-room. There were two large tables and one smaller one intended for the speakers and guests of honor. Lois showed Miss Hooper and Miss Moulton to their seats and then called out, "Anne Cockran, Phil Woodworth, Mary Williamson, Stell Leavitt, Clara Hawkins, Vera Montgomery, Gertrude Hollis, this way, please," and when they sat down there were still the three empty seats which were to have been occupied by the missing girls. "We want these seats filled, too," said Lois. "Betty Horton, you come over here, for you'll have to sing for us; and, Florence Cummings, here's a seat for you; prepare to tell us how you made the glorious 1915 flags we've lost forever; and, Eleanor Whitcomb, join the other celebrities; because of your sophomore room-mate you can talk on, 'What I Know about the Sophomores, after Rooming with One for Seven Months.' There, that looks better to have the table full. Ladies, be seated," and at the signal every girl sat down and seizing her knife rapped three times on the table with it, as they sang out, "Rah, rah, rah; rah, rah, rah; rah, rah, rah, the freshmen."

Then they began to eat, and quantities of good things rapidly disappeared. One would almost have wondered how they could eat so much, for it sounded as though each girl was keeping up a continual conversation with her neighbor, and every one admits it is somewhat difficult to eat and talk at the same time, but a college girl can do almost everything and perhaps did not find this difficult. Anyway, they continued to eat until about eight o'clock and then Lois called on Miss Hooper to respond to the toast, "The Freshman as Seen by the Faculty." Miss Hooper, in spite of her predilection for mathematics, had a keen sense of humor and kept the girls in gales of laughter as she summoned up the funny mistakes of freshmen she had known, without making her remarks at all personal. The girls clapped and clapped when she finished, and many a one was glad to see this side of their mathematics instructor which was entirely lacking in class-room.

"Now," said Lois, "we'll hear from Anne Cockran on 'How I Enjoy Being an Invalid.'"

Anne couldn't stand up, and so leaned against her chair and very briefly but brightly gave her views of the game after she had been obliged to sit on the benches and watch the others. One girl after another was called upon and all sounded the praises of 1915 and told what it had to be thankful for, even if the game had been lost. They sang between the speeches, and with so much cheering and singing many began to get hoarse. Just after Eleanor Whitcomb had sent the girls into gales of laughter over her humorous description of the sophs as judged by her room-mate, the door from the hallway opened to admit the proprietor, who ushered in Mlle. Franchant and the three missing freshmen. Instantly every girl arose and cheered and cheered in spite of tired throats. Room was made at the center table and the four late arrivals were given the places of honor.

"Everything's eaten," said Lois Underwood, "except what you see on the tables, but help yourselves freely to that. Only don't eat too long, for we're crazy to hear what happened to you and how you succeeded in finally getting here. Elizabeth Johnson, you're next on the programme; please give us an account of yourself."

Bess arose and slipped off her long black cloak, revealing a somewhat soiled and torn shirt-waist. "You see, girls, I'm not dressed just exactly right for a banquet, but take me as you find me and you'll understand everything when I've finished.

"We're here at last, although we never expected to be and it's been rather difficult getting here. Some way or other the sophs found out that we were to have the banquet to-night and they suspected we three girls would speak. They evidently decided it was too late to break up the banquet entirely, but the next best thing seemed to be to kidnap us and keep us locked up until it was too late to think of leaving the Hill. I left Wellington about three o'clock and walked down back of the dormitory, intending to take the electrics over at Canton Corners for Boston and then take the train at the South Station.

"Before I had gone very far Elsie Atherton overtook me and asked me where I was going. Not daring to say 'in town,' I told her I was going for a little walk, for I hoped she would leave me at the Corners, and then I could walk farther down the street to take the car. But she replied that she was out walking, too, and suggested that I go down to her aunt's on Oliver Street for a few moments, as she had an errand to do there. I knew I had several hours ahead of me and that it would be less suspicious if I went with her than if I refused and boarded a car. I consented, and we soon reached her aunt's house. A maid let us in and said that Mrs. Wolcott was upstairs and wished us to go to her room. I followed Elsie up the stairs and we entered what I supposed was Mrs. Wolcott's room. Instead of meeting Mrs. Wolcott, a masked figure approached me and before I could realize what was happening I was seized by several other masked figures and blindfolded. Then I was commanded to sit down and my hands and feet were bound securely to the chair. Some one whispered in my ear, 'Now get to Langley Inn if you can,' and they left the room and locked the door behind them.

"How long I sat there I do not know, but I twisted and turned and tried every way to free myself, but it was no use. In course of time the door was unlocked and some one else was brought in and bound to a chair as I had been, and I heard again the whisper, 'Now get to Langley Inn in time for your banquet if you can.' And then the door was locked. It did not take me long to discover that my companion in misery was Jean Cabot, and we were comparing our experiences and trying to plan our escape when the door opened again and a third victim was brought in, securely fastened as we had been, and given the same suggestion that had been given to us.

"For the third time the door was closed and locked and we were left to darkness and ourselves. It took only a moment to discover that the new arrival was Edith McCausland, but before she could tell us of her experiences we heard the key in the lock and we waited for the fourth victim. The electric light was turned on and we heard one of the girls, who we afterward decided was Sallie Lawrence, take down the telephone receiver and call up 'The Langley Inn.' When the line was connected we were each forced to say that we would not be at the banquet. No one answered my call, so I concluded Lois had begun to suspect foul play and would have nothing more to do with it. After the telephoning was over we were warned not to try to escape, for it would be impossible, and if we were quiet and submissive we would be released before ten o'clock. We said nothing and were soon left to ourselves again.

"We decided to make every effort to free ourselves, and after much straining and striving, Edith McCausland got one hand free. She had her old clothes on and in her shirt-waist pocket was a penknife which she had used that afternoon in the lab. With this she finally managed to cut the ropes from her other hand and then from her feet and she was free. Although it was pitch dark she succeeded in freeing Jean and me, and we breathed freely again and felt that half the battle was won. We did not dare to turn on the lights for fear the girls would see us, for we suspected they might be somewhere within sight of the room or perhaps in the very house itself. We groped around until we found the windows and as quietly as possible opened them. Jean discovered that the window she had opened was not far above the ground, and better still, had a stout trellis which reached to the very sill. She decided to try to crawl down it, for even if it would not hold her weight the distance to fall would not be very great and she was willing to risk it. Once out of the house the way would be clear.

"Very slowly and cautiously she stepped down upon the trellis, which proved perfectly capable of holding her weight, and in a moment she was on the ground. We followed suit, and in my haste to be out I forgot to close the window and I'm wondering now if the cold air from the window has chilled the whole house. Anyway, I didn't go back to close it. We crept back of the house without saying a word and walked fully five minutes before we stopped to get our bearings and hold a consultation. Edith knew where we were and told us that a short cut would take us up back of Faculty Row. If we could only get one of the faculty to chaperon us we could telephone for an automobile and get out to the banquet before it was too late. We knew Miss Hooper and Miss Moulton were out here, so we determined to ask Mlle. Franchant to go with us, knowing her fondness for the freshmen. We stumbled through backyards and over fences and finally reached Mlle. Franchant's house. We told her our story and persuaded her to chaperon us out here. We telephoned for an automobile and here we are at last, a little the worse for wear, perhaps, but loyal members of 1915," and she sat down amid vigorous clapping and shouts of "Bravo!"

Lois then called upon Edith McCausland to tell the story of her capture.

"My story is very similar to Elizabeth's," she said, "except the first part. I had an afternoon lecture and when I came out of College Hall and was on my way to West, Helen Humphrey overtook me and asked me if I would like a short automobile ride. You know she rooms next to me and we've always been very good friends. Her aunt had offered her machine to her that afternoon and it would be at West in about fifteen minutes. I pleaded an engagement, but she urged so hard I thought I might go for an hour or so and then take a late train in town. After we had ridden until it was almost dark, Helen suggested that we stop for a moment at her aunt's house. I was on pins and needles, for I knew I must hurry or I'd never make the train. Still, it seemed the only polite thing to stop a moment and thank her aunt for the ride.

"When we rang the bell we were admitted by a maid, who sent us upstairs. The rest of the story you know, for Bess has told you. It's been the most exciting experience I've ever had, but now that we're here and have fooled those horrid sophs, I don't mind the rest. But there's one consolation, girls, we'll be sophs ourselves next year and we ought to take all this in the right spirit, as no real harm has been done by our enemies," and Edith sat down as though she were very, very tired. The girls were impartial in their applause and gave Edith her full share and then Jean was called upon for her story.

"I had planned," she began, "to leave Merton very early after dinner and spend the afternoon in town with my cousin at the hospital where she is training. After I had dressed and was just about to start, Gertrude Vinton came in to talk a little while, and when she discovered where I was going she decided to go in town with me, for, strange to relate, she has a friend training at the Massachusetts General, too, who knows Cousin Nan very well. She suggested that we visit the girls and then have lunch up town and go back to Ashton together. I tried to think of various excuses, but couldn't persuade her to change her mind. So there was nothing to do but for us to go in town together, and I made up my mind that I could lose her after we reached the hospital.

"But she stuck to me closer than a brother and insisted that we see both girls at the same time if possible. When we arrived at the hospital we found her friend was on duty, so we both had one hour with Nan. We would have stayed longer, but Nan was obliged to report at four o'clock for ward work. Just as we were discussing where to go for lunch, Gertrude began to feel sick and declared she should faint if she couldn't lie down immediately. Nan took us into one of the little waiting-rooms and brought water and restoratives to revive her, and although she did not faint she declared she was in great pain and must get back to college as quickly as possible. She said she was subject to terrible attacks of indigestion, so she wanted to be in her own room in East rather than in a hospital in town. Nothing would do but I must go out to college with her. On the train she said almost nothing, but curled up in the seat as though she were suffering intensely. I pitied her and tried to make her as comfortable as possible, although inwardly I was raging because I was not on my way to our banquet.

"When we reached the station, Gertrude said she felt better and thought she could walk to East if we went slowly, and I helped her. Strange to relate, we met no one on the Row or in the dormitory. Gertrude rooms alone on the first floor, and so we were soon in her room. She lay down on her couch a few moments and then asked me if I would go down to the other end of the corridor and ask Ethel Fullman to come in and help her. Of course Ethel Fullman is a soph, but not a particle of suspicion entered my innocent little head and I walked into her room as big as life to tell her how sick Gertrude was and how much she wanted her to go up to her room to help her. As I entered her room I found myself in the midst of five sophs and before I could tell my story they had seized me and blindfolded me and covered my mouth so I could make no outcry. I tried my best to break away, but they were too many for me, and I soon gave it up as useless. Some one put a long cloak over me and I was led for what seemed miles and miles. Finally we stopped, and were admitted to the house which the other girls have described to you. There's no need of my saying more, except that I think Mlle. Franchant was a jewel to come out here with us, and I move that we all rise and show her how much we appreciate what she has done."

Every girl jumped to her feet and the walls echoed and reËchoed with the cheers for the popular French instructor. After the speeches of the three heroines of the evening other speeches seemed out of the question and Lois suggested that the rest of the time be devoted to dancing and singing. At ten o'clock they left the hotel and took the train for Boston, and, after crossing the city they boarded the last train for Ashton.

It was a very quiet lot of freshmen that crossed the campus and entered the various dormitories, for they were very tired, but they felt a certain exaltation. Although they had been defeated in the basket-ball game, they felt that they had shown their superiority over the sophs in the other two events. When Jean and Elizabeth finally reached their room, Elizabeth said, "You must be dead tired, Jean, with all you've been through. I can hardly move, myself, and I've done nothing all these exciting days but just look on. What a heroine you are, Jean. You're getting to be one of the most popular girls in 1915."

"Not at all, Elizabeth, and if I were, perhaps it's not the only kind of popularity I want. 'Some men are born great, others achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em.' You know the quotation; well, perhaps it's true in my case."

"Which one, Jean?"

"Oh, there ought not to be a question in your mind. Good night. Please don't waken me in the morning. I'm going to take one of my seven remaining cuts," and she went to sleep with her head full of banquets and kidnapings and flag-raisings and basket-ball games.