So the girls went on enjoying themselves, and, it must be confessed, did little to lower their voices. Laura had dressed and was coming to the gate when she heard angry voices there. The keeper was saying:
“Very sorry, sir; you cannot come in without a ticket. This is not visiting day.”
“I’ll show you whether I can come in or not!” roared the voice of Colonel Swayne. “Think I’m going to brow-beaten by a lot of little snips that had better be at home in their nurseries? Their parents ought to be ashamed of themselves for bringing them up so badly. And as for this idiotic school board of Centerport——”
His voice died away as Laura came modestly out of the gate. The old gentleman, choleric as he was, could not face the young girl’s cool bow and still bully the gate keeper.
“I—I——” he stammered. Then his eye lit up with recognition. “I say!” he growled. “You’re the girl who saved that man on the steeple.”
“Yes, sir,” returned Laura, demurely. “I am Laura Belding, Colonel.”
“Look here! Can’t those girls in there keep better order? They sound like a pack of wild Indians. I never heard such yelling.”
“Oh, Colonel! we are only having a little fun, mixed with physical culture, after school hours,” said Laura.
“Call it fun?” gasped the Colonel. “Sounds more like a massacre!”
“I wish you could come in and see how the girls enjoy themselves, sir,” said Laura. “But visitors are not allowed save on invitation. But I will ask Mr. Sharp to send you tickets——”