"What do you suppose has happened?" demanded Nancy of her chum.

"It isn't anything about fudge," groaned Jennie. "I'm sorry I told you to throw the fudge out of the window. And I've spoiled a perfectly good rubber!"

"I must run down. Come with me, Jen!"

"All right," agreed her chum, and together the two girls in their flannel robes scuttled out of Number 83 and down the two flights to the lower hall.

There was a light in the princ.i.p.al's office. When Nancy and Jennie went in Madame Schakael was sitting at her broad desk. It was not yet midnight.

"I was sorry to break up your party, Nancy," said the little lady, with a quiet smile. "But it seemed necessary."

"Oh, Madame! did you know----"

"I was kindly told by one of your cla.s.smates," said the Madame, grave again. "I am sorry it so happened. I do not encourage meannesses of any kind at Pinewood Hall. The tattler is one of the most abominable of our trials.

"As for the breaking of the rules by girls who wish to stuff themselves with goodies after hours, I have little to say. A junior who is president of her cla.s.s, and on the road to being one of our most prominent pupils, knows best what she wishes to do."

"Oh, Madame! Forgive me!" begged Nancy, greatly troubled. And even Jennie saw nothing humorous in the incident.

"You are forgiven, Miss Nelson," said Madame Schakael, cheerfully. "I expect, however, my junior and senior girls to help rather than hinder the general deportment of the school. And 'orgies' after hours do not set the younger girls a good example.

"However," said the princ.i.p.al, kindly, "this was not my object in calling you down, as I said before. A telegram has arrived for you. I do not understand it, but perhaps you will. Here is the evening paper--it in part solves the mystery. But who, my dear, signs himself or herself 'Scorch'?"

"Scorch!" gasped both Nancy and Jennie together.

The Madame pushed the yellow slip of paper toward the startled Nancy.

She read at a glance what it contained:

"Come to Garvan's Hotel at once. G. in bad way.

See P. & O. accident. --Scorch."

"Scorch is Mr. Gordon's office boy," said Nancy, trembling.

"And 'G.' stands for Mr. Gordon," whispered Jennie, looking over her chum's shoulder.

The Madame had rustled open the paper and now displayed the front page to the eyes of the girls. Spread upon it was the account of a terrible accident on the P. & O. Railroad. At the top of the list of injured, printed in black type, was:

"Henry Gordon, lawyer, Cincinnati, seriously."

CHAPTER XXVII

THE MAN IN GRAY AGAIN

"Do you understand it, Nancy?" asked the princ.i.p.al, quietly.

"Oh, yes, Madame!"

"I suppose it is natural for them to send for you if your guardian is hurt?"

"Scorch would be sure to send for me," whispered the girl, nodding.

"Scorch?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"A very peculiar name, Nancy."

"He--he is a peculiar boy. But I know him. I have been to his home. He is my friend."

"And Garvan's Hotel?"

"Is where Mr. Gordon lives. He is a bachelor."

"Ah! Then I presume it is all right. But to go to Cincinnati at night--there is a train in an hour----"

"Dear Madame Schakael!" cried Jennie. "Let me go with her. I'll take care of her."

"She's better able to take care of you, I think, Miss Flyaway,"

observed the Madame, with a smile.

"We'll take care of each other, then," said Jennie, promptly. "I'll wire my father, or my brother John. They'll come in to the city to meet us to-morrow morning."

"That may be a good way to handle the matter," said the princ.i.p.al, accepting Jennie's suggestion with relief. "Miss Nelson should go at once, I believe. I'll 'phone Samuel at the stables and have him here at the door with the light cart before you girls can possibly get ready.

Each of you pack a bag--and pack sensibly. Be off with you!" commanded the little woman, handling the matter with her customary energy, once her decision was made.

Nancy and Jennie ran up to their room once more. The whole house was still now, especially on the junior floor.

Only they thought they saw Cora Rathmore's door ajar.

"That's the nasty cat who told!" hissed Jennie, as she and her chum began to dress.

"Never mind. We won't do it again, Jennie. We were wrong."

"I suppose we were. But, Nance!"

"What is it, dear?"

"I hate like time to have to be an example for the greenies and sophs.," wailed Jennie, cramming things into her traveling bag quite recklessly.

The girls were ready for their strange journey in twenty minutes. There was no dawdling over dressing on this occasion. When they returned to the Madame's office Samuel was just bringing the dog-cart to the door.

"Are you warmly dressed, girls?"

"Yes, indeed, Madame."