“Vivian’s doing splendidly, too. Miss Wallace read her theme in class to-day and complimented her, and Vivian looked so pleased. She’s so quiet lately, and seems sad. I think she feels bad about Imogene. Priscilla, do you really suppose that—?” Virginia’s voice was mysteriously lowered.
“Yes, I do,” answered Priscilla in a whisper. “Of course, no one will ever know; but I’m sure Imogene didn’t know her mother was coming, and we all know Imogene wasn’t sick. Maybe Mary felt she ought to tell; or maybe Miss Wallace knew more than we thought all along. St. Helen’s always does things quietly; but I’ll always think that Imogene was—expelled!”
“Maybe Vivian knows, and that’s why she feels so bad. And, besides, it’s lonesome rooming all alone. I’ll read you the new Constitution, and then we’ll go and get them both. Where shall we go?”
“Let’s choose the big rock just back of the Retreat, behind the pines. No one goes there very often, and we can have it for our meeting-place. Read on. It’s five minutes to three now.”
Virginia drew a less rumpled paper from her blouse pocket and read:
“We, the undersigned, on this 10th day of May, do hereby announce that we are the sole members of the Order of Vigilantes, a secret order founded on the 20th day of January last by Priscilla Alden Winthrop and Virginia Webster Hunter. We take our name from the Vigilantes of the West—those brave men, who in the early days of our Western States, bound themselves together in the endeavor to stand for fair play, and to preserve law and order. Like them, we hereby determine and promise to stand at all times for fair play and true friendship; and to help one another in every way we can to live up to the principles of our order. As stated above, we are the only real Vigilantes, though the existence of the order is known to Mary Williams, who is our adviser, when we need assistance.”
“Now, we’ll sign our names, Priscilla, and I’ll take my fountain pen so that they can sign on the rock. Come on. It’s after three now.”
They went into the hall where they met Dorothy, who had agreed to keep the mysterious appointment with them at three o’clock, and together they went to get Vivian. But no response came to their knocking.
“That’s queer. She can’t be asleep. She said she’d be ready.”
They knocked again—louder this time. Still there was no answer. Then they tried the door, and to their surprise found it locked.