Leslie listened, careful not to interrupt. She was tactfully pursuing a certain course.

"Do you know anything about this students' beneficiary business that Bean and her beanstalks organized last year, Bess?" she finally asked with a careless air. "I heard Lola mention it the day I saw her. I didn't care to ask her about it. Last year, just before the Sans were fired from Hamilton, I heard the organizers were going to take up a collection among themselves to create a scholarship fund or something like that. I thought I might like to contribute, if I knew just what it was all about. I'd do it anonymously. I wouldn't for worlds let anyone but you know. Do you think you could find out all about it for me?"

"Certainly," was the ready promise. Re-established thus easily in Leslie's favor, Elizabeth was feeling elated. To be entrusted with this commission meant she would see Leslie often. Loyal to no one, she had liked Leslie better than the majority of girls she had known.

"I know a freshie at Acasia House who is quite friendly with Miss Laird.

Bean, as you call her, is a great friend of Miss Laird's. I think this freshman could get the information from Miss Laird. She is clever."

"Ask her then, and I will appreciate it and do something for you in return. Above all, Bess, don't mention this to a soul. If you do, I'll know it. In spite of the way I was treated I have a wish to do something for old Hamilton." Leslie put on a becomingly serious expression.

"I won't tell," promised the other girl. "It is fine in you to feel so about Hamilton. I should call it true n.o.bility of spirit. You weren't understood in college, Leslie."

"No, I wasn't." Leslie sighed her make-believe regret. She had begun to enjoy the part she was now playing.

The two did not leave the tea room for over an hour after meeting. When they emerged to the street each was satisfied with what she had gained from the other. They had agreed to meet the next Wednesday at four o'clock at the Ivy.

"How are you getting along as a driver?" Leslie asked, not without a smile as she sighted Elizabeth's brightly painted car. It was reminiscent of last year's disasters.

"Oh, very well. I've always told you that I could keep the road if people would keep out of my way. Every near accident I've ever had has been the fault of someone else's poor driving."

To this airy, self-exonerative statement Leslie made no response save by a twist of her loose-lipped mouth. She was very near derisive laughter.

Elizabeth, blandly complacent, did not notice her companion's peculiar expression.

"Let me give you one piece of advice, Bess," she said brusquely. "Get through with that giddy blue and tan car of yours. It is a dead give-away. One can recognize it a mile away. You think you are O. K. as a driver. You're not. Don't deceive yourself. You can't put it over me.

I know your style of driving and it's punk. Why don't you learn to drive?"

"Oh, I don't know," Elizabeth bridled. "I like my car blue. Blue is my color." She ignored Leslie's fling at her driving abilities.

"It will be your finish some day; on that car, I mean. Get a black car.

You need a new one. This one is pa.s.se. You could have it painted black, but what's the use? Trade this one in on a new machine. Maybe you'll do better driving a new car."

"Perhaps you are right. I think my father will let me have a new machine." Possession of a brand new car appealed to vain Elizabeth.

"I _know_ I'm right. Suppose you were to have trouble along the pike as you had with that driver last year. If anyone reported you the tag that gave you away would be: 'The student I mean was driving a blue and buff car.'" Leslie imitated to perfection a high, complaining voice. "With a black car you could simply scud away from trouble and no one would remember how you looked. What?"

"You are right, Leslie," Elizabeth reluctantly conceded. "I never before looked at the matter in that light."

Leslie was tempted to reply, "That was because you were too stupidly vain of your gay, blue ice wagon." She refrained. Discretion warned her to allow matters to rest as they were. She had no desire to arouse resentment in the shallow, but tricky, junior. Her advice concerning a change of cars was sound and she knew it. While Leslie had neither liking nor faith in Elizabeth Walbert, she needed her services. She thought she had learned by past bitter experience precisely how to manage Elizabeth.

CHAPTER XII-FULL-FLEDGED PROMOTERS

"The very first thing to do, Robin, is to find out whether those properties used for boarding houses are for sale. There is no use in hoping for one little instant that Miss Susanna will ever relent enough to allow us ground on the campus for any new houses." Marjorie spoke with finality.

"Queer, isn't it? Hamilton doesn't even own itself." A flickering smile touched Robin's lips.

"Miss Susanna doesn't consider that she owns the college," Marjorie explained in defense of her eccentric friend. "Miss Humphrey said Mr.

Brooke Hamilton's will stipulated that she must sanction all building, improvements or important changes on the campus. The college has free right to choose everything else."

Not even to Robin Page, her dearest Hamilton friend, outside Wayland Hall, had Marjorie ever divulged the fact of her friendship with the last of the Hamiltons. She would have liked to tell Robin, that, only a week previous, she had taken tea with Miss Susanna and heard again the old lady's repeated statement that never should Hamilton College receive even the ghost of a favor from her.

"I wish we knew Miss Susanna Hamilton," sighed Robin. "We could then have it out with her on the subject at least."

Marjorie, feeling like a criminal, said nothing for a little. The two seniors had just come from a walk past the boarding houses, the site of which they hoped to be able to use for the building of the dormitory of their generous dreams.

"About these boarding houses, Robin," Marjorie began afresh, desirous of leading her friend away from the subject of Miss Susanna. "Anna Towne's landlady told her that they were in the hands of a real estate agent in the town of Hamilton. His name is Mr. Charles Cutler and his office is on Keene Street. He is the person we must see."

"Since the girls off the campus wouldn't accept our offer, we have six thousand, two hundred and ten dollars in our treasury," announced Robin.

"We must keep some of that for our regular beneficiary fund; say two thousand dollars. That gives us a little more than four thousand to pay down on the property."

"It is only a drop in the bucket," Marjorie said doubtfully. "I suppose those properties, all together, are worth thirty or forty thousand to the owner. The question of the money is easily solved. Ronny will finance the undertaking for us. She is determined to do it. She would give us the money, but I won't accept it. I think the Hamilton girls now and to come should take this debt upon themselves and earn the money to pay it by their own efforts."

"So do I," nodded Robin. "Think what a good time we had getting up the revue. It was splendid practice for us in many ways. Let the girls who come after us have something to plan and work for. It will be the best thing that can happen to them. Besides, giving plays and entertainments helps to create the right kind of social atmosphere and also brings to light the talents of the students. I am for being independent and earning every cent of this money."

"It will keep the Nineteen Travelers busy this year and we'll choose nineteen more to replace us," Marjorie declared with quiet satisfaction.

The Nineteen Travelers were now a surety. Marjorie had carried out her spoken resolve to Jerry to call together those students outside Wayland Hall who had been closest to the Nine Travelers. The original Nine Travelers had all expressed a desire to enlarge the informal society. It had therefore been regularly organized as a sorority one evening in Leila's and Vera's room. The new sorority was now planning to do great things during their senior year at Hamilton.

"Self-denial last year didn't hurt any of us," Robin gaily pointed out.

"I saved three hundred and two dollars. The other girls saved anywhere from two to three hundred apiece. Think what it means to our treasury now!"

"I saved three hundred and seven dollars. I didn't miss it. I haven't a new suit this fall, and I don't want one. I brought back only two new frocks. Both of them were presents to me from my father. I won't give up going to Baretti's. That is my one luxury. I shall save as much as I can this year, too."

"Wouldn't it be fine if we could make and save enough money this year to clear the purchase price of these properties?" Robin's eyes sparkled at the thought.

"We couldn't unless something positively miraculous came our way."

Marjorie shook her head. "It would take all our spare time and more too.

True, we don't have basket ball to think of now, but on the other hand our subjects are harder. I wish I were as brilliant as Lucy. She had enough credits to be graduated last June, but she needed another year in biology and physics. This year she will have those two subjects and Political Science. That will leave her quite a good deal of time for her own. What do you suppose she intends to do with it?"

"Tell me, for I am a no-good guesser."

"She is going to be President Matthews' regular secretary. She talked it over with him one day last week. He made arrangements so that his work would not interfere with her cla.s.ses. That was really a concession, but he told her he had hoped from the first day she worked for him finally to have her for his secretary. She is so pleased. Her salary is thirty-five dollars a week. We were all glad for her sake," Marjorie ended with generous enthusiasm.

Robin expressed equal pleasure in Lucy's rise in fortune. "It is just one more example of how beautifully everything seems to be working out for us all at Hamilton," she said happily. "During our freshman year our lot was full of snags. One by one they have dropped away. Long before the Sans left college sn.o.bbishness was on the wane."

"Phil and Barbara deserve credit for much of that. I never saw a girl fight harder for democracy than Phil did during her freshie year. She really turned her cla.s.s inside out and made them over." Marjorie's admiration for staunch, independent Phyllis Moore had steadily grown with time.

"I hear Miss Walbert is at Wayland Hall." Mention of Phil's energetic stand during her freshman year brought her unworthy opponent to Robin's thoughts. "Is she as hateful as ever? I never could endure her, and you know, Marvelous Manager, I am fairly good-natured. Phil had an awful time over the way she tried to run the freshies."

"Your disposition couldn't be improved upon," laughed Marjorie. "Yes, she is at the Hall. I seldom see her except at a distance. She isn't there much to meals."

"She has a new car; a limousine. It is black, this time. I have seen her driving it or rather driving 'at it.' Someone, I forgot who, said Leslie Cairns was visiting an aunt in Hamilton."

Marjorie showed no surprise. She had already heard of Leslie's re-appearance. Robin did not continue on the subject of Leslie. Her observation had been impersonal. Shortly afterward she left Robin, the two having agreed to call at the real estate agent's office on Wednesday of the coming week.