“Thrown!” Gale gasped. “But if that had hit one of us—the way acid burns we might have been scarred for life! No one would do such a thing!”
“No,” the Dean agreed unenthusiastically, “no one would do such a thing.”
Gale looked at her strangely. The Dean was white, whether with fear or anger, Gale did not know. From the Dean, Gale looked at the shattered glass and up at the window. Doctor Norcot was leaning out, looking directly down at them. She disappeared and a few minutes later rejoined them on the campus. Her face was sternly set and she answered the Dean’s questioning glance with a shake of her head.
“There was no one in the room—and the test tubes and materials are all locked in the closet.”
The Dean flashed a glance at Gale, The Doctor smiled in understanding.
“Shall we go on to the infirmary now?” she asked.
A few minutes later Gale was walking across the campus toward the field in back of the tennis courts where the Freshman class was practicing hockey. So deeply in thought was she that she passed several girls from the sorority house without recognizing them at all. That night she talked the whole affair over with Phyllis.
“Do you think the Dean actually suspects that the acid was thrown?” Phyllis asked in consternation. “That is an awful thing for anybody to do!”
Gale frowned. “That is what she said. Remember, too, that somebody cut her canoe adrift and she was almost caught in the rapids.”
“It would seem somebody doesn’t like the new Dean,” Phyllis murmured. “Do you know what was wrong with her secretary?”