The three frightened freshmen wearily climbed the last flight of stairs to their room. Never had the sight of those three beds in a row seemed so pleasant, so reassuring.
Terry decided to let her French go until morning. Arden and Sim thanked their lucky stars they could go to bed with easy consciences. They had nothing to prepare.
“But, Arden, what was it?” asked Sim as she began to undress.
“You haven’t given us any idea,” added Terry.
“For the simple reason that I can’t,” was the answer made after a moment of thought. “It was all so sudden—and terrible—a rushing black shape—something getting tangled in my skirt—twirling me down and—and—around——”
“Whoosing, snorting, and sneezing like some giant of an old man with a bad cold,” finished Sim.
“Yes,” Arden assented, glad to have been helped out.
“The orchard,” murmured Terry. “Could it have been—a snake?”
“You’re thinking of the Garden of Eden and Eve’s apple, I guess,” laughed Sim.
“Oh, don’t let’s talk about it!” begged Arden. “Maybe it was—the wind.”