They almost ran along the path from the station to the college. Terry still insisted on clinging to Sim’s bag, though Arden wanted to do her share of carrying it. Then up those back-breaking stairs and into the big recreation room where the registry book was kept for this occasion.
Signing their own names, the two frightened freshmen scanned the pages for Sim’s.
“No, Arden, she hasn’t come in.” Terry turned sadly from the book.
“I left a space between your name and mine,” Arden said, “so in case Sim comes in later she can slip hers in without being caught. Hurry, Terry, let’s get to our room so we can talk this out and decide upon—something.”
CHAPTER XI
Sim
Miles away from Cedar Ridge, Sim Westover idly turned the pages of a movie magazine. She was quite pleased with herself as she sat in a commuters’ train, speeding toward Larchmont. It was dark now, and as Sim looked from the window her face was reflected in the glass as in a dull mirror. Just a hint of a shiny nose, but it was enough to cause her to open her envelope bag and search for her compact.
But what were those white envelopes?
Surely she hadn’t forgotten to leave that carefully composed note for the dean—and the one to Arden and Terry!
Yes, she had forgotten!
“My word! They’ll be worried to death!” Sim whispered in a gasp of dismay. “What a stupid thing to do! Write notes explaining everything and then take them with me!”