Entering the study hall on Monday morning she cast a swift glance toward Lucy’s desk. She was rather surprised to note that the blue-green eyes had come to rest on her at the same instant. Marjorie smiled and nodded pleasantly. The other girl only continued to stare fixedly at her, but made no answering sign. Forewarned, Marjorie was not specially concerned over this plain snub. She merely smiled to herself and decided that the psychological moment had evidently not yet arrived.
Slipping into her seat she was about to slide her books into place on the shelf under her desk, when one hand came into contact with something that made her color rise. She drew a sharp breath as she brought it to light. So the Observer was at work again! With a sudden, swift movement of her arm she shoved her find back to cover. Casting a startled look about the study hall, she wondered if whoever had placed it there were now watching her. Strangely enough, the only pair of eyes she caught fastened upon her belonged to Mignon La Salle. In them was a light of brooding scorn, which plainly expressed her opinion of Marjorie.
“Could Mignon be the mysterious Observer?” was again the question that assailed Marjorie’s mind. She longed to read the letter, but her pride whispered, “not now.” She would save it until school was over for the day. She and Captain would read it together in the living room.
It was a long, weary day for the impatient little girl. At noon she carried the dread missive home with her, gravely intrusting it to her Captain’s keeping. “It’s another stab from the Observer,” she explained soberly. “I haven’t opened it. We will read it together when I come home this afternoon. I don’t care to read it now.”
She returned home that afternoon to find her mother entertaining callers. Despite her feverish impatience to have the thing over, she was her usual charming self to her mother’s friends. Nevertheless, she sighed with relief when she saw them depart. Seating herself on the davenport she leaned wearily against its cushioned back. The suspense of not knowing had told severely upon her.
“Now, Lieutenant, I think we are ready,” said Mrs. Dean cheerily. Taking the letter from a drawer of the library table, she sat down beside Marjorie and tore open the envelope. Her head against her Captain’s shoulder, Marjorie’s eyes followed the Observer’s latest triumph in letter writing:
“Miss Dean:
“Last Saturday showed very plainly that you could not play basket ball. I knew this long ago. Several others must now know it. It would serve you right if you were asked to resign from the team. If you had been thinking less about yourself and more about the game, you might have tied the score and not disgraced the juniors. You are a menace to the team and ought to be removed from it. As I am not alone in this opinion, I imagine and sincerely hope that you will soon receive your dismissal. If you had any honor in you, you would resign without waiting to be asked. But remember that a coward is soon worsted in the fight. Prepare to meet the inevitable.
“The Observer.”
Without speaking, Marjorie turned again to the first page of the letter, re-reading thoughtfully the entire communication. “This letter tells me something which the others didn’t,” she said.