Marjorie Dean, College Sophomore Part 21

CHAPTER XX.

ALL ON ST. VALENTINE'S NIGHT.

Marjorie swallowed an inconvenient lump that rose in her throat. She would go to Miss Towne, but it meant a total up-setting of her plans. As she could not guess the freshman's trouble she could not gauge her time.

She might have to be gone for some time, although the note read "a few minutes." It was too bad. She felt a half desire to cry with disappointment. If she went at once she could get it over with and not miss the dance. But, no; the note specified half-past seven as the hour.

Presently she rallied from her downcast mood and took st.u.r.dy hope.

Perhaps, after all, she would not be detained long. She was sure Anna had done nothing wrong. It was more likely a financial difficulty which confronted her. That would not be so hard to adjust. Jerry would have to know. She decided that the other three Lookouts were ent.i.tled to know also. She might have to call on them for help in Anna's case. They were her close friends and fit to be trusted with a confidence. She claimed the right to use her own judgment in the matter.

"What a shame!" was Jerry's disgruntled reception of the news. "I think it is selfish in her. Why couldn't she have waited until tomorrow? It is probably a financial difficulty. She isn't the kind of girl to break rules."

"A member of her family may have died and she hasn't the money to go home. It must be really serious," Marjorie soberly contended. "I ought to go and I will. There is no snow on the ground. I can dress before I go and wear high overshoes and my fur coat and cap. Then, if I am not kept there long, I can hustle to the gym and be there before the unmasking."

Better pleased with this arrangement, Marjorie hastily gathered up towels and toilet accessories and trotted off to the lavatory, leaving Jerry to frowningly re-read the note. Jerry did not like it at all. She wondered why Miss Towne could not have come to Wayland Hall instead of putting her chum to the extra trouble of seeking her.

Dinner was eaten post haste that night by the excited partic.i.p.ants in the masquerade. Preparations having been the order so long beforehand, it did not take the maskers long after dinner to get into their costumes. They were eager to go outdoors and parade the campus, the night being pleasantly snappy with an overhead studding of countless stars.

Fearless in the matter of going out alone after dark where an errand called her, Marjorie did not mind the rather lonely walk after leaving the campus. In order to escape parties of maskers on the campus she wore her own mask and therefore escaped special notice. Without it she would have been challenged by every party of masks she met. This was a favorite custom on this night. Frequently a member of the faculty was caught in crossing the stretch of ground and gleefully interviewed.

Coming to the row of houses, in one of which Miss Towne resided, Marjorie kept a sharp lookout for the number. The house where she had formerly lived stood about the middle of the block. Finally she came to 852, which she found by means of a small pocket flashlight which she usually carried at night. The arc light was too far up the street to be of use to her in this.

Pausing at the bottom step of the dingy wooden veranda, Marjorie surveyed the house with a feeling of depression. The two windows on the left were without blinds and dark. There was a faint light in the hall and in the room on the right. The two windows of this room had shades.

One was drawn down completely; the other was raised about eight inches above the sill.

"What a cheerless place," she murmured half aloud. "It is worse than the other house. I suppose the landlady hasn't got settled yet."

Mechanically she reached out and took hold of the old-style door bell.

It did not respond at first. Using more force, it emitted a faint eerie tinkle. "It sounds positively weird," was Marjorie's thought. She smiled to herself as she rang it again. "I hope I shall never have to live in a boarding house like this. I am lucky to have love and a beautiful home and really every good thing."

The faint sound of footsteps from within falling upon her expectant ear, Marjorie straightened up and waited. A hand turned the k.n.o.b. The door opened about ten inches.

"Good evening. Come in." Addressed in a m.u.f.fled voice, Marjorie caught sight of a tall, black-robed figure. Before she could reply to the muttered salutation, she felt herself seized by the arms and drawn into the house with a jerk. Simultaneous with the harsh grasp of a pair of strong hands the light in the hall was turned out.

"Oh!" She gave one sharp little scream and exerting her young strength flung off the prisoning hands. "Keep your hands off me," she ordered bravely.

Just then the door leading from the hall into the right hand room opened. The light from several tall candles shone dimly into the hall.

She saw that she was surrounded by half a dozen dominoed masks.

"Bring in the prisoner," grated a harsh voice from within the room.

Despite Marjorie's command of hands off, she was given a sudden shove forward which sent her roughly through the doorway and into the larger apartment.

Sureness of foot saved her from stumbling. Strange to say, she had now lost all fear of the company of masked figures in whose midst she stood.

It had begun to enforce itself upon her that she had been hoaxed into visiting an empty house by those who had taken advantage of the masquerade to carry out their plan without undue notice to themselves.

She was now certain that she was being hazed by students. She knew of only one group of Hamilton girls who would be bold enough to deliberately defy the strictest rule of Hamilton College.

The masked company were attired in black dominos; all save one who appeared to be a kind of sinister master of ceremonies. This one wore a domino of bright scarlet silk and a leering false face mask that was hideous in the extreme. The flickering flame of the candles added to the grim and horrifying effect. A girl of timid inclinations would have been sadly frightened. Marjorie was made of sterner stuff. She had experienced, briefly, actual terror when she felt herself seized and drawn into the house. She had now recovered from that and was righteously angry. She determined to a.s.sume contemptuous indifference, for the time being, preferring to allow her captors to play their hand first.

"Prisoner, you are now before the stern tribunal of the Scarlet Mask,"

announced the red dominoed figure in the same harsh guttural tones. "You have been guilty of many crimes and are to be punished for these tonight. If you obey my mandate you will escape with your wretched life.

Disobey and nothing can save you. You are now to be put to the question by one who knows your treacherous heart. You will remove your outer wrappings and stand forth. Question." The red mask made an imperious gesture. A domino on the left stepped forward as though to lay hands on Marjorie.

"I shall not remove my coat, cap or overshoes." Marjorie's ringing accents cut sharply on the cold air of the unfurnished, unheated room.

"If one of you undertakes to lay a hand on me you will be sorry; not only now but hereafter. I defy you to do it."

Standing almost in the center of the circle of dominos, Marjorie cast contemptuous eyes about the circle of maskers. She fully intended to defend herself if further molested. She was one against many, but she could at least fight her way to the window, tear aside the shade and pound l.u.s.tily upon it, raising her voice for help. She was certain she was in the hands of the Sans. She knew they would not court exposure.

They had reckoned on completely intimidating her.

A peculiar silence followed Marjorie's spirited defiance. It was as though the high tribunal were in doubt as to what they had best do next.

With one accord their slits of eyes were turned on their leader. The domino who had been ordered to lay hold of the prisoner s.h.i.+ed off perceptibly.

"Bring forth the charges against the prisoner." The distinguished scarlet mask suddenly changed tune. While the hideous face within the close-fitting hood glared fiendishly at Marjorie, the real face behind it wore an expression of baffled anger. The unruly prisoner seemed in possession of an inner force that forbade molestation. Then, too, she was unafraid and all ready to make a lively commotion.

A domino on the outer edge of the group came forward with a roll of foolscap, tied with a black cord. The cord impressively untied, amid dead silence, and the paper unrolled, the reading of Marjorie's crimes was begun.

"Prisoner, you are accused of untruthfulness, treachery and malicious interference in the affairs of others. It is not our purpose to detail to you the occasion of these crimes. These occasions are known to the high tribunal and have been proven against you."

"It is my purpose to demand proof," interrupted Marjorie with open sarcasm. "I am not untruthful, malicious or treacherous. I do not propose to allow anyone to accuse me of such things. I----"

"Be silent!" The Scarlet Mask had evidently lost temper. The command was roared out in a voice that sounded perilously like that of Leslie Cairns.

Marjorie gave a little amused laugh. She stared straight at the red mask with tantalizing eyes. "Were you speaking to me?" she inquired with a cool discomfiting sweetness that made the eyes looking into hers snap.

"Prisoner, you are insolent." The red mask was careful this time to speak in the earlier hoa.r.s.e disguised voice.

"I mean to be. It is time to end this farce, I think. So far as treachery, malice and truth are concerned you, not I," Marjorie swept the tense, listening group with an inclusive gesture, "are guilty. Some one of you deliberately wrote me a lying note in order to get me here.

Now I am here, but your whole scheme has fallen flat because I am not afraid. You thought I would be. I will say again what I said to a number of you on the campus last March: How silly you are!"

CHAPTER XXI.

LOOKOUTS REAL AND TRUE.

While Marjorie had gone on to the reception a la masque which had been prepared for her, Jerry had donned her infant costume in a far from happy humor. She could not get over her feeling of resentment against Anna Towne, though she knew it was hardly just. Twice during the progress of her dressing she picked up the note from the chiffonier and re-read it with knitted brows. There was something in the a.s.sured style of it that went against the grain.

"Where's Marjorie?" was Ronny's first speech as shortly after seven she flitted into the room looking like a veritable b.u.t.terfly in her gorgeous black and yellow costume. "I am anxious to see her as a doll. I know she will be simply exquisite."

"She certainly looked sweet," returned Jerry. She paused, eyeing Ronny in mild surprise. Ronny had broken into a hearty laugh. Jerry as an infant was so irresistibly funny. Her chubby figure in the high-waisted tucked and belaced gown and her round face looking out from the fluted lace frills of a close-fitting bonnet made her appear precisely like a large-sized baby.

"Oh, I see. You're laughing at me. Aren't you rude, though? Ma-ma-a-a!"

Jerry set up a grieved wail.