"What girl did it?"

"I'd hate to tell you," snapped Jennie. "There were two of them in the trick, I'm sure. But I certainly will pay them off!"

"They ought to be punished. You might have been drowned," declared Bob.

But Nancy said nothing. She did not propose to discuss Grace Montgomery's shortcomings with her cousin.

The two girls got ash.o.r.e in the semi-darkness, and thanked their rescuer again.

"I'll ask after you to-morrow over the 'phone," declared Bob. "I hope you won't get cold."

"Oh, goodness me! don't ask," cried Jennie. "Then we will have to explain the whole business. And I don't want to go before the Madame."

"That's right, Jennie," agreed her chum. "Please don't ask after us, Mr.

Endress."

"Then let me know how you get along through Grace. I see her a lot,"

said Bob. "But you girls are never with her."

"Aw--well," drawled Jennie, coming to Nancy's rescue. "You know, we girls go in bunches. Nancy and I chum together, and it's a close corporation. We don't often go about with other girls."

Then they said "Good-night!" and ran off through the bushes. Their wet garments hampered them somewhat in running; but they came at last breathless to the gym. and Samuel had not yet locked up for the night.

So they got into gym. togs--both blouses and skirts,--and managed to enter the Hall by the rear door of their wing and get up to Number 30 without being caught by any teacher, or the Side captain.

The wet clothes were flung out of the window and, very early in the morning, Nancy arose, slipped out of the house, and carried the garments to the drying yard.

So they got over this adventure without the teachers being the wiser.

There was a hue and cry about the lost skiff, however.

"What are we going to say?" demanded Jennie, of her chum. "You won't let me go at Grace and Cora and make 'em pay for it. What'll we do?"

"Let folks think the skiff floated away from the landing. What do we care if they say we didn't tie it?" returned Nancy. "It's our loss; isn't it?"

"But those girls ought to be made to pay for the skiff."

"How would you make them pay? Cora never has any money, anyway," said Nancy, remembering the sum that her ex-roommate already owed her from the year before. "And they'd both deny touching the plug, anyway. We can't prove it."

"Well, I don't care! I hate to have those girls get the best of us. I'll think up some trick by which we can pay them back."

"Nonsense, Jennie!" reproved Nancy. "You wouldn't be mean just because _they_ are mean."

"I don't know but I would--if it wasn't for you," admitted her chum, sighing.

But in the end nothing was done about the skiff and the girls'

adventure. The matter blew over. There was so much going on at Pinewood Hall that fall, and the soph.o.m.ores were so very busy, that the loss of the boat soon ceased to be a topic of conversation--saving between the owners and, possibly, the two other girls who knew all about the incident.

The seniors and juniors promised the school a very lively social season this winter. And of course the sophs. were "in on it," as Jennie said, to a degree.

As early as October the big girls got permission to plan a dance, with the Academy boys invited, for Thanksgiving Eve. It was to be a masquerade, too, and that gave the girls a delightful time choosing costumes and--in some cases--making them at odd hours themselves.

Those who would, might gather, twice a week, with Jessie Pease and learn to sew. Nancy and Jennie were faithful to this "extra" and both made their own costumes under Jessie's sharp eye.

Jennie was going to be dressed as an owl, and wear huge spectacles and carry an open book.

"I'd never look wise at any other time," giggled the irrepressible. "So I will do so now."

And in her fluffy gray and white garments, with the skirts drawn close around her feet and slit only a little way so that she could barely walk and dance, Jennie really _did_ look too cute for anything.

Nancy was costumed as a "drummer girl"--a brilliant uniform with knee skirt, long boots, a little, round, "Tommy Atkins" cap with chin-strap, and a little snare-drum at her hip that she really learned to beat.

The big hall was cleared for dancing and decorated by the girls themselves with the loot of the autumn woods. No more brilliant affair, everybody declared, had been arranged since Pinewood Hall had become a preparatory school.

Dr. Dudley's boys marched over at eight o'clock, every one of them fancifully attired. Despite the fact that the tastes of the boys ran a good deal to costumes denoting the Soldier of '76 and Blackbeard, the Pirate, the novelty and variety shown by the girls made the scene a delightful one.

Nancy Nelson and her mates of the soph.o.m.ore cla.s.s were not likely to be wall-flowers this year, or to lack for partners. The former's striking costume marked her out, too, and after the grand march, she was sought out by Bob Endress.

"Oh, I'm afraid I don't dance well enough, Mr. Endress," the girl said in a whisper, and blushing deeply.

"You do everything well, I believe," declared he. "Now, don't disappoint me. I've been trying ever since that night I found you and your chum in the river, to get a talk with you. But you're so shy."

"I--I'm always busy," replied Nancy. "And--and you know the Madame is very strict about us talking with any of you boys."

"Wow! we won't bite you," laughed Bob. "Besides, I meet Grace and Cora Rathmore often. I tried to pump them about your accident; but they declared they knew nothing about it. I guess you warned them not to tell."

Nancy had nothing to say to this, but she could, not refuse to go on the floor with Bob, although she saw Grace, dressed to represent a gaudy tulip, glaring at them with blazing eyes from across the room.

CHAPTER XXV

GETTING ON

Jennie Bruce did not go home that Christmas. Instead, she remained at Pinewood Hall with Nancy and was "coached" for the after-New Year exams.

So she was able to send home better reports for her first half-year's work than she had had before.

Nancy took to study naturally; it was a "grind" for Jennie, and she was frank to admit it.

Nancy stuck to her books just as closely after Thanksgiving as she had before; but as a soph.o.m.ore she had more freedom than was usually granted to the freshies. Therefore she was able, if she wished, to enter more fully into the social gayeties of her cla.s.smates.

And after the very successful masque on Thanksgiving Eve, she could not escape Bob Endress altogether. He _was_ a nice boy, and Nancy liked him.

Besides, there were two topics that drew the two together.

Bob never got over talking about that August afternoon, that seemed so long ago, when Nancy had helped to rescue him from the millrace. On the other hand, Nancy was quite as grateful to him for saving her and Jennie from the river.

So, as well as might be, Bob and Nancy were very good friends. Bob would be graduated in June, and at that same time Nancy would become a full-fledged junior. Bob was going to Cornell; but that was not too far away, as he often told her, for him to come back to Clintondale to see both the girls and boys there.