“Yep, I caught him at it, and when he saw I knew, he threatened that if I told he’d see that I didn’t get any more college taxi trade, so I had to keep still. But now I’m glad I can tell.”
“And we’re glad it’s over,” said Terry.
The girls resumed their own talk as the taxi-man walked away.
“Wasn’t it thrilling when Arden gave the dean the reward check!” Sim exclaimed, her arm through Terry’s.
“It certainly was! And wasn’t Harry Pangborn nice when he posed for those newspaper photographers?” Sim inquired.
“Swell!” laughed Arden. “And the party the girls gave us last night in the gym—lovely! Everything has been just wonderful. I can hardly wait to get home to tell Mother and Dad all about it. I could write so little in my letters.”
“Don’t forget our dance Thanksgiving eve,” Sim reminded her chums.
“As if we’d forget—when those nice boys are coming!” exclaimed Arden. She turned to look at the college. The buildings were outlined by a glorious red sunset. “I can understand, now, how one becomes attached to one’s Alma Mater. Cedar Ridge is a dear old place,” she concluded.
“And to think,” murmured Sim, “I wanted to leave it!”
“Oh, well,” said Terry, “I can understand. I’d have done the same thing if I was as crazy as you are, Sim, about being an expert swimmer and diver. You couldn’t help it.”