"Sophomores! Sophomores!"
The other girls ran after her, screaming at the tops of their voices; and there might have been almost a free fight between the two classes had not the Black Monks of Asia scattered in every direction, running at utmost speed.
"Come on back, girls," cried Grace in a disgusted tone.
She had chased a monk half-way across the orchard; then stopped to wonder what she would do if she caught the tall, black-robed individual who had indecorously caught up her skirts and was flying well ahead over the rough ground.
One by one the plebes returned to their meeting place.
"Well, that was a sell!" uttered Nora disgustedly. "How shall we ever manage to get even with those mean sophomores!"
"If we don't," exclaimed Grace, "we shall never hear the last of it in Oakdale."
"But who gave us away?" demanded Jessica. "Did anyone drop a hint to the sophomores of our secret meeting place?"
"I didn't," said one girl after another.
"Perhaps they followed us," suggested Marian Barber.