“You have been cramming. I know it. And I saw you with the pretty red-headed soph. I understand that you could not avoid falling in love with her. Your hair is auburn, and hers is the very next station—red. But, Jane, remember your responsibilities and keep fit. We need you in our office, and we are going to run a basketball try-out next week. You are to be Center, you know. There is positively no chance of bolting that, even if the honors do rather overburden you. I don’t notice any flying at my own poor head.” “More’s the pity. You would make a wonderful Center, Judy, and you will stick to Guard. Are you perfectly sure you are not dodging?” “Sure as shooting, Jane. Nobody wants me to be Center. They all think I have honor enough being little old Guard. And as far as I am personally concerned, I guess it will do for the time being. Hello, Drusa, and hello again, Norma! Whither away, fair maids?” “Low girls,” came the reply from the two in sweaters and corduroy skirts. “We are on a miniature hike—to the post. Any mail to keep the home fires burning?” joked Drusilla. “We are with you,” and Jane fell in step with Drusilla while Judith sprang along side Norma. “Yes, we have mail, and we have need for open air, the kind we get outside the grounds. Crickey, but one’s brain does get stuffy on a day like this. I feel I have acquired enough Euclid to take over the internal revenue,” and Jane sighed audibly. “Me,” said Judith comically, “I have acquired enough sass to fight the Marians. I believe they are massing for attack.” “Oh, yes, won’t we have a great time to-night?” exclaimed Norma. “Jane, I hope you have all your moral and mental life preservers on.” “Quite ready for the onslaught,” replied Jane, but Judith guessed rightfully when she surmised the painfully crowded head was not entirely traceable to class work. There was a mixture of personal anxiety at the turn affairs had taken, and Jane Allen had promised herself Helen Powderly would not be socially ostracised on account of her peculiar status in Wellington. “She is the best little scout in college,” Jane had repeatedly assured herself, “therefore, why should she be made a victim of girls’ foolish whims? Isn’t she more worthy than they, who could not earn their way in on merit if put to the test?” Coming and going to the post office, an entirely unnecessary jaunt, as mail boxes were an important part of the Wellington equipment, the quartette met with, and passed out any number of students on this particular autumn afternoon, but their handicap in stride was, perhaps, well balanced by the merry laughter and good natured calls repeatedly hailed to Jane. Election night embraced delicious possibilities, and all classes seemed fittingly keyed up, joyous and expectant. CHAPTER XVII—POTENTIAL ENEMIES The time had come! Disclosures promised real sensations, and Jane, quiet, composed, if a trifle flushed, waited rather uneasily in her place beside the retiring class president.