The shriek of the telephone scared them both out of their positions. “You answer,” said Joy, and together they shivered to the closet down the hall in whose privacy they had their telephone conversations. Jerry lifted up the receiver. “Hello, oh, hello, Davy. She isn’t here just now. Oh, that’s all right, we _were_ going to that dance to-night. Do you know by any chance who Sal went out with last night? You do?” She wound the telephone cord around one finger and then watched it tighten as she pulled until the finger grew livid. “Oh, will they be around at the dance to-night? Oh, well—you needn’t bother. Oh, all right, only I haven’t put on my gingham yet, so don’t make the poor kid race all the way. See you later.” She slammed down the receiver and turned to Joy. “That was Davy—he and Wigs were taking us to that Tech dance to-night, you know. He called up to say they were sending a Freshman who has a car, over to get us—they have to bone for some nine o’clock exam to-morrow till the last minute. Come on into my room till I get into something.” “But what—who——” stuttered Joy as she followed her into the wilderness of clothes that was Jerry’s room, and watched her pull a glittering green sequin dress from the collection—“What did he tell you about——” “He said he knew that Sal was going to the Toast and Jam last night—there was some big celebration there—with Crawf Harris and Dum-Dum Barnes, because they had asked him to come along too with a girl he had a date with, but he had theatre tickets and so they didn’t——” “And now what are you going to do?” Jerry raked her hair smooth with two military brushes, her latest idea. “Do? Why, go to that dance and get those damn little rounders to tell me what went on, where they left Sal, and so on—and believe me, there’ll have to be some fluent explaining!” “I don’t understand.” Joy moved about around the debris of the room, too nervous to sit down. “But I—I can’t stay here, Jerry, while you——” She vanished from the room. When she returned some minutes later, she wore hat and coat. Jerry, who was swiftly puckering up a split in a silk stocking made by putting her foot in it too abruptly, jerked an inquiring eyebrow. “What in——” “Jerry—I know you can look after yourself and do everything and always have; but nevertheless there are times—if we are unlucky enough to have those times—when a man is absolutely necessary—a man we can trust. I think this is one of those times—and I’ve telephoned Jim Dalton to come out here as quickly as possible.” Jerry nodded. “I’m glad you did. It—it does look like one of those times—and Wigs and Davy wouldn’t be even up to zero on a proposition like this.” The two girls sat waiting in a silence broken only once or twice. “Of course—it may come to nothing.” This from Jerry. “There must be all sorts of reasons——”