“But Billie,” protested Laura, though her voice sank to a more cautious whisper, “we’ve got to do something about it, you know. There may have been a murder or something up there.” “Perhaps we’d better all go back with Billie and try to get into that little room at the head of the ladder,” suggested one of the girls, but the mere idea made Billie shudder. “You can go,” she said decidedly. “But I’m through for to-night.” “Oh, well, if you won’t go,” said the girl dejectedly, “it’s all off, of course. We need a guide——” “I don’t see why,” protested Billie. “Nobody gave me a guide.” “No. And it was a shame to send you away up there all alone,” said Vi, putting a protecting arm about her. “It’s a wonder you didn’t die of fright.” “I suppose,” said Ann Fleming, thoughtfully, “we might tell one of the teachers about it—or Miss Walters, perhaps—and she could go with us up to the tower——” “Say,” interrupted Rose Belser with her most pronounced drawl, as she looked contemptuously upon the freshman who had proposed so foolish a thing, “it’s easy to see you haven’t been at Three Towers long, Ann. Now just what do you suppose would happen if we told Miss Walters that we were up after hours initiating and doing stunts?” “I—I didn’t think of that,” stammered Ann, completely crushed. “I thought you didn’t,” answered Rose dryly. For some time afterward the girls discussed in awed whispers the startling thing that had happened, and then somebody suddenly conceived the idea that it would not be a bad thing to go to bed. Billie was looking very white and shaky after her ordeal. Then, too, it was getting late, and there was always the chance of discovery by some “over-curious teacher.” “But I’ll never, never, sleep a wink,” said Vi, as they filed ghost-like out of the gymnasium. “I know I’ll be dreaming of blood-stained handkerchiefs all night long.” “And I don’t think it’s fair,” pouted Connie, “for Billie to have all the adventures. First she gets lost with Teddy and discovers a perfectly good cave, and then she unearths a thrilling mystery, like this. Too much good luck for one person.” “Good luck!” repeated Billie ruefully. “Well, if you call _that_ good luck, I certainly would hate to be the one to find out what bad luck is.” “Hush,” ordered Rose, once more assuming the deep voice of the head of the ghosts. “Some one may hear you and we’ll all be shot at sunrise.” “I never get up that early,” giggled Laura. Many and varied were the plans the girls made for a storming of tower number three in the hope of solving the mystery of that little locked door and the blood-stained handkerchief. However, there seemed to be so many obstacles in the way of carrying out these plans that they reluctantly decided to give up the idea, at least for the time being. “And, anyway,” Laura had said in one of their discussions, “the blood stains on that handkerchief might not have meant anything mysterious at all. Maybe somebody had a nose-bleed.”