"I stuffed my toes with cotton," laughed another, "but even now they are hard to manage."
Just then a motor cycle shot past them, slowed down and stopped altogether.
The rider rested it against a tree and came back.
"I recognized you by your big feet," he said in a whisper. "Grace, here's the duplicate key to the laboratory. I had some trouble getting it, but no one knows, and you'll be safe enough. I'll let myself in with the other duplicate key and lock the door. They will be sure to try it at intervals. If you get into any trouble, early in the evening, make a dash for the steps and blow your horn loud. Now, that's all, I think. I'll be hidden in the laboratory until my turn comes. Good-bye and good luck!"
In another instant he was off on his motor cycle.
Six figures, well disguised in dominoes of as many hues, presently appeared on the ball room floor, just in time for the grand march. It was a pity no one, except the lone teacher, was permitted to look at the brilliant picture. But such was the tradition of the class. After the march, ten ballet girls in tarlatan skirts, their faces concealed by little black satin masks, gave a performance. Following this, a Spanish dancer, whom the six dominoes recognized at once as the treacherous Miriam Nesbit, gave an exhibition of her skill.
"I'm going to have some fun with her," whispered the blue domino to the red one. "Just follow me and see."
The last speaker joined the dancer as the music struck up a waltz.
"That was a good day's work you did for our class, not long ago," she whispered as they danced off together.
"What do you mean?" asked the Spanish dancer.