"I am so tired of being asked what my play was about," declared Anne. "Everyone seems to take it for granted that I wrote one. I only wish I were clever enough to write a play or even a sketch."
"The announcement is to be made to-morrow isn't it?" asked Miriam.
Grace nodded. "Miss Duncan told me yesterday that there had been only fourteen manuscripts handed in. She said at least five of them were really clever. She and the other judges were to meet last night to talk over the matter and make their final decision. It is to be announced at five o'clock to-morrow afternoon in the gymnasium. Didn't you see the notice on the big bulletin board this morning?"
"The girl who wins will stand a chance of having her head completely turned," said Miriam. "If she is a senior, her class will bankrupt themselves entertaining her, and if she belongs to one of the other classes, her own class will probably prostrate themselves at her feet in a body, not to mention the general adulation that is bound to come to the winner."
"Then I hope I win," was Elfreda's calm statement. "I know I won't, because my play was a comedy, and, besides, I know some one else whose idea for a play was a hundred times better than mine."
"Who is it?" The question came simultaneously from Miriam and Grace.
Elfreda shook her head. "I won't say. The person made me promise I wouldn't tell."
"Then we aren't curious to know," said Grace promptly. "Forget that we asked you."
"Oh, that's all right," assured Elfreda. "You'll know soon enough if she wins the honor."
"What are the latest developments in the campus mystery, Professor Holmes?" laughed Grace.