“Trying to break her own neck, I should think,” sniffed Jennie. “Who’d risk climbing along this ledge?”
“I have,” confessed Helen. “It’s not such a stunt. Other girls have.”
“But why?” demanded the plump freshman. “What was she here for?”
“Listening, I tell you,” Helen said.
“To what? We weren’t discussing buried treasure—or even any personal scandal,” laughed Jennie. “What do you think, Ruth?”
“That is strange,” murmured the girl of the Red Mill reflectively.
“The strangest thing is where she could have gone so quickly,” said Helen.
“Pshaw! around the corner—the nearest corner, of course,” observed Jennie with conviction.
“Oh! I didn’t think of that,” cried Ruth, and went to the other window, for the study shared during their freshman year by her and Helen Cameron was a corner room with windows looking both west and south.
When the trio of puzzled girls looked out of the other open window, however, the wide ledge of sandstone which ran all around Dare Hall just beneath the second story windows was deserted.