"I think I'll join the united prowlers' association, too," laughed Ronny. "I'd love to have a chance to prowl about Hamilton Arms, wouldn't you? I walked past there the other afternoon. They say that old house is simply filled with antiques. They also say that Miss Susanna Hamilton won't permit a student to set foot on the lawn. And all because she fell out with a member of the Board. He must have done something very serious."
"It is too bad she has shut herself away from everyone," Marjorie mused. "She is probably unhappy. Leila says she looks like a little old robin. Her hair isn't very gray and she is quite energetic. She has a rose garden and digs in it a lot. Just to think. She could tell us the most interesting things about Brooke Hamilton and we don't know her and never will."
"Sad but true," agreed Jerry without sadness.
During the short time that lay between them and the masquerade, the Lookouts spent their free hours in arranging their costumes. Ronny had to mend a broken place in one of her butterfly wings. Marjorie, Lucy and Jerry had to turn needlewomen. While Marjorie and Lucy had to shorten the skirts of their costumes, Jerry busied herself in laboriously finishing the infant dress she had been working on for over two weeks. "I'll never go back to infancy again, after the masquerade, believe me," she disgustedly declared. "Let me tell you, this sweet little baby gown is fearfully and wonderfully made. I know, for I took every stitch in it."
The day before the dance the sophomore team received the junior challenge to play them on the twenty-seventh of February. Purposely to keep their unworthy opponents on the anxious seat they did not immediately answer the notice sent them. "Let them wait until after the dance," Robin Page said scornfully. "If we had not determined to teach them a lesson, we would turn down their challenge and state our reason in good plain English."
The evening of the St. Valentine masquerade was always a gala one on the campus. Dinner was served promptly at five-thirty. By seven o'clock, if the weather permitted, masked figures in twos, threes and groups might be seen parading the campus. Eight o'clock saw the beginning of the grand march. Unmasking took place at half-past nine. Then the dance continued merrily until midnight.
Hurrying from Science Hall after her last recitation of the afternoon, Marjorie crossed the campus at a swift run. She was anxious to be early at the lavatory for a shower before the girls began to arrive there in numbers. Coming hastily into the hall she glanced at the bulletin board. In the rack above it, lettered with each resident's name, was mail for her. She gave a gurgle of pleasure as she saw that the topmost of two letters was in her mother's hand. The other was not post-marked, which indicated that it had come from someone at the college. She did not recognize the writing.
Saving her mother's letter to read later, she tore open the other envelope as she went upstairs. On the landing beside a hall window she stopped and drew forth the contents. Her bright face clouded a trifle as she perused the note.
"Dear Miss Dean: it read:
"It is too bad to trouble you when I know you are getting ready for the masquerade, but could you come over to my boarding house for a few minutes this evening at about half-past seven? I am in great trouble and need your advice. I would ask you to come earlier but this will be the best time for me. We moved this week to the house two doors below the one I used to live in, so stop at 852 instead of going on to 856. If you can find it in your heart to come to me now I shall be deeply grateful. I am in sore need of a friend. Please do not mention this to anyone.