It was evident that Miriam Nesbit had hoped to break up the party by declining to go herself. But she was not quite strong enough in the class to divide it utterly, and she went off in a huff, with the secret wish to take revenge on somebody. As she started up Chapel Hill to her home she was joined by one of the sophomore girls, who lived across the street. "Your plebes are getting away from you, Miriam," exclaimed the older girl in a bantering tone. "You haven't got them well in hand yet. Nutting parties should be left behind for the Grammar School pupils." "They certainly should," replied Miriam in a disgusted tone. "It's Grace Harlowe who gets up all these foolish children's games. She's nothing but a tomboy, anyhow." "She's the captain of the basketball team, isn't she?" asked the other dryly. "Yes," admitted Miriam reluctantly, "but she never would have been if she hadn't brought along all her friends to vote for her." "Whew-w-w!" whistled the sophomore. "You don't mean to say it wasn't a fair election?" "Oh, fair enough," said Miriam, "except that I didn't bother to bring any of my special friends, and she did. I don't call that exactly fair." "Oh, well," consoled the other, "you have a few things coming to you anyway, Miriam. You're at the head of your class, as usual, I suppose?" Miriam nodded her head without answering. She was thinking of little Anne Pierson and what a close race they were running together. Even studying harder than she had ever had to do before, Miriam found it difficult to keep up with Anne. "Where are they going?" asked the other girl suddenly, after they had walked along a few minutes in silence. "Where are who going?" asked Miriam. "Why, the nutting party, of course." Here was Miriam's chance for revenge. The sophomores were a famously mischievous class, and this girl was one of its ringleaders. Back in Grammar School days they had played many pranks on their school fellows, and even in their freshman year they had dared to turn off all lights, one night at a dance of older schoolmates. "If I tell, you won't give me away, will you?" asked Miriam. "I promise," said the older girl. "Very well, then. They meet at three-thirty at the Omnibus House on the River road." "Good," said the sophomore. "Don't you want to come along and see the fun?" "Don't count on me," answered Miriam, turning in at her gate, with mixed feelings of shame and triumph. The Omnibus House, which had been chosen by Grace as the class meeting place, was an old stone building standing in the middle of an orchard. It was now in ruins, but tradition set it down as a former inn and stage coach station built before the days of railroads, and finally burned by the Indians. There was a curious hieroglyphic sign cut in a stone slab in the front wall which one of the High School professors interested in archaeology had deciphered as follows: "Peace and Justice Reign Over Mount Asia Tavern."