“The day she ran back to the Chemistry room—she saw no one?” Gale continued hopefully. “I’m sorry, Dean, this sounds like a cross examination, doesn’t it? We are being terribly nosey, but it is only because we are so interested.”
“Since someone is sending us notes it makes us all the more curious,” added Phyllis. “I would like to know who sent us that note.”
“Do you have it with you?” the Dean asked.
Gale pulled it from her coat pocket and unfolded it.
“You see,” she said, “it is typewritten so there is no danger of recognizing the handwriting.”
“About every other person at Briarhurst has a portable typewriter,” Phyllis frowned. “We are absolutely stumped for clues.”
“Aren’t you afraid to stay here with so many things happening?” Gale asked the Dean.
The Dean shook her head smilingly. “I’ve been entrusted with this position and I am going to see it through to the best of my ability. I am going to make Briarhurst an even finer and larger college than it already is. That is, of course, with the coöperation of the girls.”
“You have our coöperation,” Phyllis said promptly. “All the Adventure Girls and some others are keenly interested in everything you propose—the new organ for the chapel, the new and different classes, the horses for spring riding, all of them. It will be really wonderful. I’ve always wanted to ride well,” she continued softly.
The Dean tapped Phyllis’ crutch. “Doctor Norcot tells me it will be only a week or so and you won’t have to use these any more. I’m glad.”