"I really do not know, Miss Carrington," replied Bobby, as the girls shrank away from her vicinity, and she herself hopped down to the floor, hiding her hands behind her. "I never did know just how far you could see with your gla.s.ses."

"Miss Hargrew, come here!" snapped the teacher, in no mood for frivolity.

Bobby approached slowly. She held her hands behind her back like a naughty child.

"Let me see what is in your hand, Miss!" commanded the teacher

Bobby brought forth her right hand-empty.

"Your other hand, Miss!"

Back snapped the culprit's right hand and then her left hand appeared-likewise empty.

"Miss Hargrew! I demand that you give me what you are hiding in your hand, at once!" cried Miss Carrington.

Slowly, and with drooping mien, the culprit brought forth both hands. In the fingers of one still smoked the brown object the teacher had spied.

"A vile cigarette!" she gasped.

"No, ma'am," replied Bobby, quite bravely. "Only a piece of Chinese punk-stick left over from last year's Fourth of July celebration. I wouldn't smoke a cigarette, Miss Carrington. I don't think they're nice-do _you_?"

It was impossible for the other girls to smother their laughter. A ripple of merriment spread back to the music room. Now, Miss Carrington was a very unfortunate woman. She had no sense of humor. There should be a civil service examination for educational instructors in the line of "sense of humor." For those who could not "pa.s.s" would never make really successful teachers.

"Clara Hargrew!" snapped Miss Carrington, her gla.s.ses almost emitting sparks. "You will show me a five hundred word essay upon the topic 'Respect to Our Superiors' when you come to the cla.s.ses, Monday morning.

And you may go home now. Until your standing in deportment is higher, you can have no part in athletics, save those gymnastic exercises catalogued already in the school's curriculum. After-school athletics are forbidden you, Miss Hargrew."

Bobby at first paled, and then grew very red. Tears stood in her usually sparkling eyes.

"Oh, Miss Carrington!" she cried. "I was only in fun. And-and this is not a regular school session. This is Sat.u.r.day."

"You are in the precincts of the school, Miss." said Gee Gee. "Do as you are bid. And throw that nasty thing away."

She swept back to the platform at the upper end of the music room, and those girls who had not already gone ahead of her were quick to leave the culprit to herself. Hester Grimes smiled sneeringly at poor little Bobby.

"Got taken up that time pretty short, didn't you, Miss Smarty?" she jeered.

Miss Grimes had often been the b.u.t.t of Bobby Hargrew's jokes. And then-Bobby was Laura Belding's friend and eager supporter. The door was closed between the music room and the office and Bobby was left alone.

Mrs. Case, the girls' athletic instructor, was a very different person from the hated Gee Gee. She was a fresh-colored, breezy woman, in her thirties, whose clear voice and frank manner the girls all liked. And then, in the present instance, her proposals anent the athletic a.s.sociation fitted right into the desires and interests of most of the pupils present.

"The work of the Girls' Branch Athletic a.s.sociation is spreading fast,"

Mrs. Case said. "Centerport must not be behind in any good thing for the education and development of either her boys or girls. This is something that I have been advocating before the Board for several years. And other teachers are interested, too.

"An a.s.sociation will be formed among the girls of East High and West High, as well. I understand that the school authorities of both Lumberport and Keyport are to take up the subject of girls' athletics, too. So, although inter-cla.s.s athletics is tabooed, there will be plenty of rivalry between the girls of Central High and those of our East and West schools, and those of neighboring cities. A certain amount of rivalry is a good thing; yet we must remember to cheer the losers and winners both. This is true sport.

"I want my girls," continued Miss Case, with a smile, "to be all-round athletes, as well as all-round scholars. You may be rivals for all honors with those of your own age in other schools. There are most fascinating games and exercises to take up, as well as Folk Dancing. The boys have a splendid a.s.sociation in our school--"

Suddenly Miss Carrington sprang up, interrupting her fellow-teacher. She stood upon the platform a moment, looking toward the office, and sniffed the air like a hound on the scent.

"Wait!" she commanded. "I smell smoke!"

She was a tall woman, and she darted down the room with long strides.

She flung open the office door. Then she shrieked and fell back, and half the girls in the music room echoed her cry.

Flames rose half way to the ceiling, right near the princ.i.p.al's desk, and the office itself was full of smoke!

CHAPTER IV-"POOR BOBBY!"

Ordinarily the girls of Central High were perfect in "fire drill." But then, when ever they practiced that manuver, there was no fire. For a hundred or more of them, however, to see the shooting flames and blinding smoke, and to hear a teacher who had "lost her head" screaming as loud as she could scream, was likely to create some confusion.

It was Mrs. Case who rang the fire alarm. This notified the janitor, if he was in his bas.e.m.e.nt quarters, of the situation of the fire, too. He would come with an extinguisher to their rescue. But meanwhile the blaze in the princ.i.p.al's office was increasing.

"That reckless girl!" shrieked Miss Carrington. "She shall pay for this!"

And Laura, who had run down the room until she, too, was at the door of the office, knew whom the teacher meant. Poor Bobby Hargrew! She and her piece of burning punk-stick must be at the bottom of the catastrophe.

But Miss Carrington really spoke as though she thought Bobby had intentionally set the fire.

"Oh, she never could have meant to do it," cried Laura, horrified.

The girls had run from the door into the corridor and n.o.body but Miss Carrington and Laura were at the office door.

"What shall we do? What shall we do?" moaned the teacher, wringing her hands.

"Can't we put it out?" demanded the girl.

"No, no! You'll be burned! Come back!" cried Miss Carrington.

But the smoke had cleared somewhat now and Laura could see just what damage the fire was doing. It surely had started in the big wastebasket.

If Bobby had flung the burning punk into that basket she deserved punishment-that was sure. Now the flames were spreading to the rug on which the basket stood. And they were charring the corner of the desk.

Laura could smell the scorching varnish.

"Come back, Miss Belding!" commanded the teacher again.

But the girl thought she saw a chance to accomplish something. There was no use in waiting for the janitor to come to put out the flames if they could be quenched immediately. And no knowing how long before John would reach the room. He was not very spry.

Besides, to allow the fire to spread was both reckless and foolish.

Laura saw just what should be done. She sprang into the room and pa.s.sed the flames in a single swift dash.

She reached the window and seized the heavy bowl of water in which the gold fish swam. It was some weight for her, but she seized it firmly with both arms, and staggered toward the burning basket.

The smoke was drawn away for a moment by the draught of an opening door and she heard Miss Carrington scream again. But Laura shut both her eyes tight and staggered on.

Her foot tripped on the edge of the rug, she felt the blast of fire in her face, and then she overturned the full globe, fish and all, upon the flames!