"Well, whatever you do," Gloria warned, "don't do anything like making a pie bed or a booby trap for anyone in our class. They wouldn't like that."
"I won't," Flip assured her. "But I can't think of a Deed, Gloria. I've tried and tried, but I just can't seem to think of anything."—If only I could produce Paul and Ariel, she thought.—That would bowl them over all right.
"I thought you were supposed to have such a good imagination," Gloria said. "I've done everything I can to help you, ducky, so there's nothing else for it. You'll just have to be initiated."
"I expect I'll have to," Flip agreed mournfully and with trepidation.
"I'll do what I can to keep it from being too awful," Gloria promised her magnanimously.
But she was, as Flip had known she would be, one of the most violent of the initiators.
The entire class met after lunch behind the playing fields. It was almost out of sight of the school there; only the highest turrets could be seen rising out of the trees. Erna, Jackie, and Gloria had Flip in tow.
"Don't be scared," Jackie whispered comfortingly. "It's only fun."
"I'm not scared." Flip was vehement. Even if she knew she was a coward she did not want anyone else to know.
It was a grey day with little tendrils of fog curled here and there about the trees. The tips of the mountains were obscured in clouds that looked heavy and soft and like snow clouds. Erna said it was too early for snow as far down the mountain as Jaman, though there might possibly be some in Gstaad, a town further up, where the annual Ski Meet was held. Behind the playing fields was the most desolate spot around the school. It was rocky ground with little life; the grass was neither long nor short; just ragged and untidy and a dull rust brown in color. The only tree was dead, with one lone branch left sticking out so that it looked like a gibbet. Most of the girls clustered about the tree. Flip heard one of them asking, "What do we do?"