CHAPTER XI
THE ONE REBEL
However much the natural independence of the freshmen balked at themandate promulgated by the seniors, baby-blue tam-o'-shanters grew morenumerous every hour on the Ardmore campus.
The sophomores were evidently filled with glee; the juniors and seniorssmiled significantly, but said nothing. The freshmen had been put intheir place at once, it was considered. But the attack upon them hadmade the newcomers eager for an organization of their own.
"If we are going to be bossed this way--and it is disgraceful!--we mustbe prepared to withstand imposition," Helen announced.
So they began busily settling the matter of the organization of theclass and the choosing of its officers. Before these matters werearranged completely, however, there was an incident of note.
The freshmen, as a body, were invited to attend a sophomore "roar." Itwas to be the first out-of-door "roar" of the year and occurred rightafter classes and lectures one afternoon. The two lower classes scampedtheir gymnasium work to make it a success.
Now, a "roar" at Ardmore was much nicer than it sounds. It was merely anopen-air singing festival, and this one was for the purpose of makingthe freshmen familiar with the popular songs of the college.
Professor Leidenburg, the musical director, himself led the outdoorconcert. The sophomores stood in a compact body before the main entranceto the college hall. Massed in the background, and in a half circle,were the freshmen.
The weather had become cool and all the girls wore theirtam-o'-shanters. For the first time it was noticeable how pretty thepale blue caps on the freshmen's heads looked. And the new girlslikewise noted that most of the tam-o'-shanters worn-by their sophomorehostesses were pale yellow.
It was whispered then (and strange none of the freshmen had discoveredit before) that the class preceding theirs at Ardmore--the presentsophomores--had been forced to wear caps of a distinctive color, too.These pale yellow ones were their old caps, left over from the previouswinter.
The open-air assemblages of the college were made more attractive bythis scheme of a particular class color in head-wear.
There was a blot in the assembly of the freshmen on this occasion. Itwas not discovered in the beginning. Soon, however, there was muchwhispering, and looking about and pointing.
"Do you see _that_?" gasped Jennie, who had been straining her neck andhopping up and down on her toes to see what the other girls were lookingat.
"What _are_ you rubbering at, Heavy?" demanded Helen, inelegantly.
"Yes; what's all the disturbance?" asked Ruth.
"That girl!" ejaculated the fleshy one.
"What girl now? Any particular girl?"
"She's not very particular, I guess," returned Jennie, "or she wouldn'tdo it."
"Jennie!" demanded Helen. "_Who_ do _what_?"
"That Frayne girl," explained her plump friend.
Rebecca Frayne stood well back in the lines of freshmen. It could not besaid that she thrust herself forward, or sought to gain the attention ofthe crowd. Nevertheless, among the mass of pale blue tam-o'-shanters,her parti-colored one was very prominent.
"Goodness!" gasped Ruth. "Doesn't she know better?"
"Do you suppose she is one of those stubborn girls who just 'won't bedriv'?" giggled Helen.
It was no laughing matter. The three days of grace written upon theseniors' order regarding the caps had now passed. There seemed no goodreason for one member of the freshman class to refuse to obey thecommand. Indeed, they had all tacitly agreed to do as they weretold--upon this single point, at least.
"There certainly are enough of them left in town so that she can buyone," Jennie Stone said.
"Goodness!" snapped Helen. "If _my_ complexion can stand such a sillycolor, _hers_ certainly can."
Before the out-of-doors concert was over, news of this rebellion on thepart of a single freshman had run through the crowd like a breath ofwind over ripe wheat. It almost broke up the "roar."
As the last verse of the last song was ended and the company began todisperse, the freshmen themselves, and the sophomores as well, stared atRebecca Frayne in open wonder. She started for her room, which was inDare Hall on the same corridor as that of the three girls fromBriarwood, and Ruth and Helen and Jennie were right behind her.
"That certainly is an awful tam," groaned Jennie. "What do you supposemakes her wear it, anyway? Let alone the trouble----"
She broke off. Miss Dexter, the first senior who had spoken to Ruth andHelen coming over from the railway station on the auto-bus, stopped thestrange girl whose initials were the same as those of the girl of theRed Mill.
"Will you tell me, please, why you are wearing that tam-o'-shanter?"asked Miss Dexter.
Rebecca Frayne's head came up and a spot of vivid red appeared in eitherof her sallow cheeks.
"Is that _your_ business?" she demanded, slowly.
"Do you know that I am a senior?" asked Miss Dexter, levelly.
"I don't care if you are two seniors," returned Rebecca Frayne, saucily.
Miss Dexter turned her back upon the freshman and walked promptly away.The listeners were appalled. None of them cared to go forward and speakto Rebecca Frayne.
"Cracky!" gasped Helen. "She's an awful spitfire."
"She's an awful chump!" groaned Jennie. "The seniors won't do a thing toher!"
But nothing came at once of Rebecca's refusal to obey the seniors'command regarding tam-o'-shanters. It was known, however, that theexecutive committees of both the senior and junior classes met that nextnight and supposedly took the matter up.
"Oh, no! They don't haze any more at Ardmore," said Jennie, shaking herhead. "But just wait!"