"That's because you don't know the real joy of going crazy. I have been whoopeeing all over the place, and everyone but you whoopeed with me.

Now, you get the dipper out, and threaten me with a cold plunge. Don't, Jane dear. Go ahead, come on, be crazy with me," and she all but smothered the defenceless Jane in her own good sofa pillows.

"All right," agreed Jane. "Consider me crazy. Now proceed."

"You are on the committee to get the talent. That may mean a trip to New York. I know why you got that."

"Why?"

"Well, Drusilla said, and you know what a wizard Dru is-she said the faculty knew that if a Wellington check should go to protest on the high 'C' of some prima donna, that Henry Allen, per Redhead Jane, would make it all right at the bank."

It took a moment for that statement to filter through Jane's brain.

Then she laughed.

"Oh, nonsense, Judy! You know perfectly well there are plenty of girls here richer than I am."

"Oh, yes, that is quite true, little one. But no girl is more generous, and this affair is to be one grand clean up of every old debt ever wished on our Alma Mater. Even the protested butcher bill I hear is to be paid up after the concert, and we are to go on chops again. Cheers!"

"Joking aside, it will be nice to have a real affair," a.s.sented Jane, "and I am sure we can get a wonderful array of talent. But why should you think I may be asked to interview the talent?"

"Well, the Weatherbee is going to town, and she couldn't go alone. Some one might steal her, and she insinuated she might take Miss Allen. It appears there is one star she must see by hand. So I predict, lucky one, you will duck that much discussed and disgusting forensic. Whilst I pine, and tar, and tarry: being the only friend of Jane Allen," and Judith made an absurd attempt to sob, with the disastrous result of a gag, and choking fit, upsetting, for the moment, coherent speech.

Jane wanted to tell her chum of Helen's letter, but hesitated, the exuberant spirits fizzing and bubbling over the proposed concert, reminded Jane, that Judith was first a girl, second the confidant. It would be rash to impose upon her at that moment, the serious portend of Helen's affairs.

"And have you heard about the beauty parlor?" further effused Judith.

"What's new?"

"Dolorez is packing, ready to check out."

"You mean she is leaving college?"

"College is leaving her, she has been requested to avaunt."

"Oh, what do you mean, Judy? Has Dolorez been expelled?"

"Well, it was this way," and the tantalizing girl propped her head more compactly with an extra cus.h.i.+on. "It seems she went right on with the scheme, in the very face of all protests. The people she had interested refused to withdraw, on so simple a difficulty as a Wellington blockade or boycott-take your choice. Then, when Dolorez kept going out, and coming in, and lugging furniture from the village, and pinning up impossible curtains with Wellington hammer and tacks, Mrs. Weatherbee just called her before President Blakesly and Dean Rutledge. They had an interesting session in Warburton Hall, Dol shed a few tears of sheer rage, then crumbled up in a tailor-made heap-and cried 'Kamerad!'"

"Judy, has Dolorez gone?"

"She hasn't kissed me good bye yet, and I do hope she will not fail to avail herself of the privilege. But I fancy she is about on the wing by now. I saw old Peter with his ground plane, and I think I knew the trunk."

"I wanted to appeal to Dolorez not to-injure Helen, Judith." Jane said in her most sober tone, emphasized with the serious t.i.tle Judith instead of Judy. "I have felt she must have enough kindness somewhere to listen to reason, and you know, she is the only one here who knew Helen at Blindwood. Out there perhaps, our little girl had not sense enough to be as conservative as she is now, and it is quite possible Dolorez knows more about the troubles than do you or I."

"I wouldn't wonder, Jane," replied Judith, also a.s.suming a serious tone. "I have heard so many remarks the origin of which I have laid at Dolorez' door. That nonsense about a boy calling in New York was purely her mental output, the brand being plainly marked with her particular identification code. But how is our little Helen? Haven't seen her in a rock of ages."

"She is better alone, and doing wonderful work at her studies and her music. I had a note from her just now. She says we must be patient and soon she will be able to-emerge from her shadow. She sends her love, etc."

"The dear!" and Judith's eyes melted with a sentiment as sincere as that now engulfing the gray orbs of Jane. "Whoever would have thought we would have this struggle to keep her in her well-earned place in Wellington? Isn't it true, Janey dear, that trouble begets trouble?"

"It seems too true to be pleasant just now," replied Jane. "But, Judy, we have come through. We have given Helen a chance here she could never have otherwise obtained. And she has been so worth while."

"We have given it to her! You mean you have done so! Ages ago I should have scared the poor child off with my foolish questioning, and somehow, that remarkable redhead of yours knew better. I believe red hair only grows in gray matter."

"All the same, Judy dear, I should have been helpless without you. I believe Heaven makes girls in pairs."

"Then I insist you were the pattern, and they liked it so well after they had a chance to look you over, that they gave me some of the same effect. There, wouldn't our theology shock the Theo. Faculty? But I know one thing, girl, I am perfectly sure Heaven loves girls who love themselves."

"Back to earth, my dear," commanded Jane. "Has our basketball secretary fixed up the new schedule? Aren't we making a fine record this year?"

"Oh, we started out to do that, to the last question; and to the first, yes, Constance has fixed up the schedule, she announced it at the practice from which you were excused. But, Jane, I had the darlingest letter from one of the Breslins, Marie Condon. She insists you have a system, and wants a line on it. She said Katherine, who fumbled in the big game and gave you the ball, never was known to do anything like that before. Now, Jane, did you actually and truly hypnotize her?"

"Silly, I merely used the regular strategy. She did keep her gaze fixed on me instead of the ball--"

"Oh, well, your beauty did the trick then. It's all the same," finished the effervescent Judith. "I have known your eyes to do that to little me, and I never could stand up under your old-time ingrown smile."

"Judy, I have sent sweet little Mrs. Meeker all the six samples, and I want to compliment you on yours. It was very prettily done, and I wouldn't wonder if some very nice soldier, or his girl, would write you a little letter of thanks. I took pains to mark each sampler with the name and address of the Mirabelle Dictu who finished it. Helen did two.

d.i.c.key couldn't finish hers."

"Oh, that's lovely, Janie. I am so glad to have had just one more piece of war work to my credit. We begin to miss the dreadful war. And I am sure Mrs. Meeker will be overjoyed to get her pretty beaded pieces all so nicely finished. That was another of your inspirations, Jane."

"Judy, I will not stand for any more compliments. They make me feel so self conscious. You surely don't want a perfect angel for a chum, do you?"

"Couldn't do a thing with a perfect angel but shoo her back to heaven.

No, sister-chum, we are all very human, but I think rather prettily so," and she stood before the small mirror over Jane's dresser, framing her face with a satisfied smile, no one could have blamed her for.

"Away away! Je-u-ty-calls," mocked Jane, paraphrasing "Duty" to offset beauty. "Take thyself hence, and dig in. We are having a lovely time, but even a good time has its limitations-at Wellington."

CHAPTER XXVII-WHAT THE "BUGLE" BLEW

Jane was going to New York with Mrs. Weatherbee. For some reason not fully explained the director wished particularly to have Jane with her.

The long waits and short intervals possible with such talent as was to be sought out, for the Golden Jubilee Concert of Wellington, made it imperative that Mrs. Weatherbee have with her an a.s.sistant who could do some of the waiting, if not any of the interviewing, so for that reason, ostensibly, Jane was chosen.

The reliable old car, paradoxically called the Cozy Roadster, waited at the broad stone steps, bright and early Thursday morning, and the wait even with prompt Peter at the wheel, was calculated to be of short duration with Mrs. Weatherbee as pa.s.senger.

"Good bye, Jane," called Judith, "give my love to little old New York."

"Oh, Janey! Here is the _Bugle_! Just out. You can read it on the train," shouted Drusilla, thrusting a copy of the much-awaited paper into the gloved hand of Jane.

Then they were off. The three hours train ride to New York City afforded both Mrs. Weatherbee and Jane a welcome opportunity to glimpse the world outside of Wellington. Also Mrs. Weatherbee might rest, and Jane might read.

Jane could scarcely wait to fulfill the usual train formalities before running her anxious eyes over the short columns of print in search of Whispers from Wellington. There were the Breslin Breezes, and the Carlton Clatter. Yes, there it was! Wellington Whispers!

Jane read over the usual announcements. The basketball news appeared and there was the report of the Barn Swifts Extravaganza. She saw the print as a whole, but one line stood out as if entirely capitalized. It was:

"Helka Podonsky, the Mystery of the College!"