"Why—you don't mean——" began Jess, in wide-eyed wonder; but Laura said:
"Hush! Don't say such a thing. We must not accuse people without some ground for suspicion."
"How much ground do you want—the whole earth?" snapped Bobby, in deep gloom.
So the name of the suspected culprit was not mentioned; but the little coterie of friends looked wisely at each other, and nodded.
For, you see, when a girl is disloyal to her school and classmates, how can they help suspecting her if evil should arise? A girl who will not accept the decision of the majority in school affairs, who scoffs at the efficiency of the various athletic teams—who never will be contented unless she is in the lead of everything—can neither be popular nor trusted. Disloyalty is a crime that every right-minded person abhors; and although these girls did not mention the name of the person they suspected, all realized who was meant when Bobby said:
"Well, the time is coming when she'll fly her kite too high! Everybody will see what she is, and then she'll never be able to fool anybody again—neither teachers, nor students of Central High. That's one satisfaction."
"And yet, not very satisfactory at present," returned Laura Belding, thoughtfully.
"Put on your thinking cap, then, Mother Wit, and catch her," said Bobby, in a whisper. "You did it before, you know."
The parents of some of the girls were intensely interested in the outcome of the races on the Big Day, too; and somebody with influence had induced the Chief of Police to put detectives on the trail of the lost shell. This, however, beside a search of the lake shore by the police launch, as already reported, did nothing toward uncovering the hiding place of the shell, or the identity of the thieves.
It seemed ridiculous to suppose that one girl—no matter how spiteful she might feel—could have accomplished the crime of stealing the eight-oared shell alone. Yet Bobby Hargrew's insistence had impressed Laura Belding.