Lou Potter, however, had many supporters, not alone among her own class. The freshies and sophs of course were jealous of the prominence of the juniors in athletics, so they centered their loyalty upon Lou.
Eve could do nothing that Lou Potter couldn’t do! That was the cry, and the feeling ran quite high for a while. Besides, another thing came to make Eve rather unpopular with a certain class of girls.
“Touch Day”—that famous occasion when candidates for membership in the M. O. R.’s were chosen—came in May, and Eve was one of the lucky girls to receive the magic “touch.” The fact that she had not been attending Central High a year aroused bitter feeling, although Eve was a junior in good standing.
“Say!” cried Bobby Hargrew, “if they had kicked about me being an M. O. R. there would have been some sense in it. For I never really thought I’d arrive at such an honor.”
For Bobby had really been drawn as a member of the secret society, and she never ceased to be surprised at the fact. But this school year—especially since early spring—Bobby Hargrew had been much changed. Not that she was not cheerful, and full of fun; but she had settled down to better work in her classes, and there was a steadiness about her that had been missing in the old Bobby Hargrew.
They were talking this change over one evening around the Belding dinner table.
“Bobby wouldn’t be herself if she got too strait-laced,” remarked Chetwood. “That’s the main good thing about her—the ginger in her.”
“Chetwood!” exclaimed his mother, admonishingly. “You speak of the girl as though she were a horse—or a dog. ‘Ginger’ indeed!”
“Well, Little Mum,” said her big son. “That’s exactly what I mean. She’s no namby-pamby, Miss Sissy kind of a girl; but a good fellow——”
“I cannot allow you to talk that way about one of your young lady friends,” declared Mrs. Belding, with heat. “I am surprised, Chetwood.”