Gincy’s face hardened. Could Lalla be crazy? She watched the girl narrowly as she searched the closet, peered behind the door with every sign of anxiety, and gave a sigh of relief when she found nothing out of order. Once in possession of the dictionary, Gincy hurried to Miss Howard with her story. “Have you been dreaming, child?” the latter asked in astonishment. But Gincy shook her head. “I’ve been studyin’ ’bout hit since I found her out. Hit’s that feud business and she’s trying to fasten hit onto Mallie. The girls will believe hit too, Mallie’s so ill.” Miss Howard from her own conviction felt that they would. She followed Gincy to the end of the hall; they slipped out upon the roof and found both keys securely hidden from any casual observer just where Lalla had concealed them five minutes before. Silently the two filed back to Miss Howard’s room. Gincy felt the little teacher’s inward struggle to readjust her point of view. Mallie was not a favourite, while Lalla had quite a following and was counted unusually bright. “Hit’s this way,” Gincy explained to the bewildered teacher. “The Greens and Ponders have warred hit for years back there in the hills, and they aim never to forget hit. Most of the young folks see how foolish hit is, but they’re a sorry lot.” Miss Howard sighed. “I must have time to think it over. I’m rather upset this evening, Gincy. Thank you for helping me. Please don’t say anything about it until I see you again. I can’t see why Lalla should want to injure her own clothes to get Mallie sent home, though.” After Gincy had left, Miss Howard sat for a long time, her hands toying idly with the two keys. If the dean knew of the trouble, Lalla would be suspended at once as she richly deserved. She would go back to the poorest of mountain homes and the bright, keen mind, undirected and bent on mischief, would soon bring the girl to grief. The next day, at her first opportunity, she called Gincy into her room. Carefully she approached the subject. “What kind of a home did you say Lalla had, Gincy?” “Mighty pore,” was the answer. “They’re the illest kind of people.” Miss Howard pondered a moment over the next question. “What do you suppose will become of her when she gets back in the mountains?” Gincy shook her head gloomily. “Don’t you suppose it will be worth while for us to try reforming her?” Then Miss Howard explained the probation plan. “Only you and I know that she is the mischief maker. If nothing more happens the pupils will soon forget it. Of course everything depends on how she acts. She must contradict the report about Mallie and promise better behaviour in the future.” Gincy’s face showed an inward struggle; this was so unlike the code of the mountains. “I’m afraid I couldn’t trust her,” she said at last, “but I’m willing to do anything you say.” “I’m going to have a long talk with her this afternoon,” Miss Howard continued, “and find out the reason for her conduct.”