CHAPTER XV
A Point of Honour
"Lizzie," announced Ulyth, sitting down on a stump in the glade, andspeaking slowly and emphatically, "The Woodlands isn't what it used tobe."
"So Stephanie was saying the other day," agreed Lizzie, taking a seat onthe stump by the side of her friend. "She thinks it's a different placealtogether."
"It is; though not exactly from Stephie's point of view. I don't carethe least scrap that there are no Vernons or Courtenays or Derringtonshere now. Stephie can lament them if she likes. I never knew them, so Ican't regret them. There's one thing I can't help noticing, though--thetone has been going down."
"Do you think it has?" replied Lizzie thoughtfully. "Merle and Alice andMary are rather silly, certainly, but there's not much harm in them."
"I don't mean our form; it's the juniors. I've noticed it continuallylately."
"Now you come to speak of it, so have I. I don't quite know what it is,but there's a something."
"There's a very decided something. It's come on quite lately, but it'sthere. They're not behaving nicely at all. They've slacked all round,and do nothing but snigger among themselves over jokes they won't tell."
"They're welcome to their own jokes as far as I'm concerned, the youngidiots!"
"Yes, if it's only just fun; but I'm afraid it's something more thanthat--something they're ashamed of and really want to hide. I've seensuch shuffling and queer business going on when any of the monitressescame in sight."
"Have you said anything to Catherine or Helen?"
"No, and I don't want to. It's very unfortunate, but they've really gotno tact. Catherine's so high-handed, and Helen's nearly as bad. Theysnap the girls up for the least trifle. The result is the juniors havegot it into their tiresome young heads that monitresses are a species ofteacher. They weren't intended to be that at all. A monitress is justone of ourselves, only with authority that we all allow. She ought to bejolly with everybody."
"Um! You can hardly call Catherine jolly with the kids."
"That's just it. They resent it; they've gone their own way lately, andit's been decidedly downhill. I'm persuaded they're playing some deepand surreptitious game at present. I wish I knew what it was."
"Can't Rona tell you?"
"I wouldn't pump Rona for the world. It's most frightfully difficult forher, a junior, to be room-mate with a senior. Her form always suspecther of giving them away to the Upper School. Rona's had a hard enoughstruggle to get any footing at all at The Woodlands, and I don't want tomake it any harder for her. If she once gets the reputation of'tell-tale' she's done for. Since Stephanie made that fuss about juniorscoming into senior rooms I mayn't ask her into V B; so if she'sostracized by her own form too she'll be neither fish, flesh, fowl, norgood red herring. No; however I find out it mustn't be through Rona."
"Yes, I quite see your point. Now you speak of it, I believe thosejuniors are up to something. There's a prodigious amount of whisperingand sniggering among them. 'What's the joke?' I said to Tootie Phillipsyesterday, and she flared out in the most truculent manner: 'That's ourown business, thank you!'"
"Tootie has been making herself most objectionable lately. She wantssitting upon."
"Catherine will do that, never fear."
"No doubt, but it doesn't bring us any nearer finding out what thosejuniors are after."
"They vanish mysteriously after tea sometimes. I vote we watch them, andnext time it happens we'll stalk them."
"Right-O! But not a word to anybody else, or it might get about and putthem on their guard."
"Trust me! I wouldn't even flicker an eyelid."
Now that Ulyth and Lizzie had compared notes on the subject of thejuniors, they became more convinced than ever of the fact that somethingsurreptitious was going on. Nods, hints, words which apparently bore ahidden meaning, nudges, and signs were the order of the day. Allfriendly advances on the part of seniors were repelled, the youngergirls keeping strictly to themselves. This was the more marked as therehad never been any very great division at The Woodlands between Upperand Lower School, the whole of the little community sharing in most ofthe general interests.
After tea there was a short interval before evening preparation began,and during the summer term this was spent, if possible, out-of-doors byeverybody. One afternoon, only a few days after the conversation justrecorded, the girls had filed as usual from the dining-hall, and wereracing off for tennis, basket-ball, or a run by the stream. As Ulyth,down on her knees in the darkest part of the hall cupboard, groped forher mislaid tennis-shoes, two members of IV B came in for a moment tofetch balls. They were in a hurry and they evidently did not perceiveher presence.
"Did you get the tip?" Irene Scott asked Ethel Jephson under her breath."By the lower pool immediately."
"All serene! Tootie told me herself."
"Pass it on then; though I think most know."
As they ran down the passage, Ulyth, relinquishing her hunt for themissing shoes, rose to her feet.
"There's one here who didn't know," she chuckled. "This is a mostimportant piece of information. Immediately, by the lower pool, is it?Well, I must go and find Lizzie. What are those precious juniors up to,I wonder?"
Lizzie was taking her racket for a game of tennis, but she readily gaveup her place to Merle Denham at a hint from Ulyth.
"I told you they vanished after tea," she said, as the two girlssauntered into the glen. "We'll track them this time. Don't on anyaccount look as if you were going anywhere. Sit down here and give thema few minutes' grace, in case stragglers come up. They probably won'tbegin punctually. I'll time it by my watch."
When five minutes had elapsed there was not a solitary junior to be seenin the glade, and Ulyth and Lizzie, deeming themselves safe, set out inthe direction of the lower pool.
This was a part of the stream at the very verge of the grounds belongingto The Woodlands; indeed, the greater portion of it lay in the land of aneighbouring farmer, and to reach its pebbly bank meant a scramble roundsome palings and under a projecting piece of rock.
Ulyth and Lizzie were too wary to follow the juniors by this path, butscaled the palings at another point, and under cover of a thick copse ofgorse-bushes approached the pool from the side that lay in the farmer'sfield. By most careful scouting they found a spot on the bank where theycould see and hear without being seen.
Below them, seated on the rocks by the edge of the water, werepractically almost the whole of the Lower School. They cuddled close,with their arms round each other, and to judge from their repressedgiggles they appeared to be enjoying themselves. Tootie Phillips, along-legged, excitable girl of thirteen, mounted upon a boulder, wasaddressing them with much fervour. Ulyth and Lizzie missed the beginningof her remarks, but when they came within earshot they realized that shewas in the midst of a vigorous harangue against the seniors.
"Are we to be trodden down just because we're a little younger than theyare?" urged Tootie. "Why should they lord it over us, I should like toknow? They were juniors themselves only a year or two ago. I tell youthe worm will turn."
"It's turned pretty considerably," guffawed Cissie Newall.
"It knows which side its bread's buttered," cackled Irene Scott.
"Buttered! You mean sugared, don't you?"
At this sally the whole party broke into a shout of laughter.
"Good for you, Ciss!"
"Sugared! Ra--ther!"
"Shut up, you sillies! Someone will hear us," commanded Tootie. "I wassaying before, we're not going to be sat upon, either by teachers ormonitresses or seniors. We'll take our own way."
"A sugary way," chirped Ethel Jephson.
The girls hinnied again. There was evidently something underlying thejoke.
"When perfectly ridiculous rules are made, that never ought to have beenmade," continued Tootie, "then we've a right to take the law into ourown hands and do as we please."
"Our pocket money's our own," grumbled a discontented spirit from theback.
"Of course it is, and we ought to be able to do what we like with it."
"And so are our brooches, if we want to----"
"Sh--sh!"
"Shut up, stupid!"
"Well, we all know."
"No need to blare it out, if we do."
"I wasn't blaring."
"Violet Robertson, remember your oath," commanded Tootie. "If you let aword of--we know what--leak out, you're sent to Coventry for the rest ofthe term. Yes. Not a single one of us will speak one single word to you.Not even your own room-mates. So there!"
"Well, you needn't make such a precious fuss. I'm sure I wasn't lettingout secrets," retorted Violet sulkily. "But I think there ought to besome rate of value. My brooch was a far better one than Mollie's."
"Right you are, my hearty, and I'm going to speak about it. We mustn'tlet ourselves be done, even by--you know who!"
"And she's sharp."
"She's getting too sharp. We must stop it, even if we have to break offfor a whole week."
"No, no!"
"Oh, not that anyhow!"
"Well, look here, if you're such sillies, you deserve----"
But at this most interesting point the loud clanging of thepreparation-bell put a stop to any further argument. With one accord thegirls jumped up, and fled back as fast as they could run in thedirection of the school. Ulyth and Lizzie, at the risk of being late forevening call-over, gave the conspirators time to get well away beforethey ventured to follow.
"What's the meaning of all this?" queried Lizzie, as they scoutedcautiously through the glade.
"I can't imagine. They're evidently doing something they oughtn't to,the young wretches! But they're keeping it very dark."
"We shall have to watch them."
"We must indeed," sighed Ulyth. "Lizzie, I loathe eavesdropping andanything that savours of underhand work, but what are we to do?Something is going wrong among the juniors, and for the sake of theschool we've got to put it right if we possibly can. It's no use askingthem their sweet secret, for they wouldn't tell us; and I'm afraidsetting the monitresses on the track would only make things worse. If wecan find out what they're doing, then we shall know our ground. I'm aTorch-bearer and you're a Fire-maker, and we must appeal to them to keeptheir Camp-fire vows. But we can't do that till we've some idea of whichrule they're breaking. How can we say to them: 'I strongly suspectyou're not being trustworthy'? We've got to prove our words."
"Prove them we will. We'll dodge about till we catch them in the act,"agreed Lizzie.
To both the girls it was uncongenial though necessary work. As seniorsand League officers they felt they owed a duty to the school, but thatit would be far wiser to appeal privately to the juniors' sense ofhonour, and win them back to straight paths of their own free will, thanto carry the matter to head-quarters. For the present, patience and tactmust be their watchwords.
Several days went by, and nothing particular occurred. Either theyounger girls were on their guard or they had suspended theiractivities. On Friday evening, however, as Ulyth was coming along thepassage from practising, she accidentally cannonaded into half a dozenmembers of IV B who were standing near the boot cupboard. She evidentlysurprised them, for one and all they hastily popped their hands intotheir pockets. It was promptly done, but not so quickly as to preventUlyth from seeing that they were eating something.
"It's all right," gasped Bertha Halliwell, with apparent unconcern, inreply to Ulyth's apologies. "You nearly upset me, but I'm notfractured."
"I wish you'd take care, though," grumbled Etta Jessop, surreptitiouslywiping a decidedly sticky mouth; "no one likes being tumbled over."
Ulyth passed on thoughtfully. What had they all been munching, and wheredid they get it from? Private supplies of cakes and sweets were utterlyforbidden at The Woodlands. Their prohibition was one of the strictestrules of the school, to break which would be to incur a very severepenalty from Miss Teddington. Was this the explanation of Tootie'srather enigmatical remarks down by the stream?
"If that's their precious secret, and they're just being greedy, I'm toodisgusted with them for words!" commented Lizzie, when informed of thediscovery.
Saturday and Monday passed with quite exemplary behaviour on the part ofthe juniors. The keenest vigilance could discover nothing. But onTuesday Lizzie came across another clue. She had been monitress for theafternoon in the drawing-class, and after the girls had left she stayedbehind to put away various articles that had been used and to tidy theroom.
As she worked along the desks where IV B had been sitting, collectingstray pencils and pieces of india-rubber, she noticed a book lying onthe floor and picked it up. It was a French grammar, with "Etta Jessop"written on the fly-leaf and had evidently been accidentally dropped. Sheturned over the pages idly. In the middle was a scrap of paper torn froman exercise-book, and on this was scribbled: "Where will she beto-night?" while in a different hand, underneath, as if in answer to thequestion, were the words: "Side gate at 8. Pass, 'John Barleycorn'."
This was most important. It was the first, indeed the only definite,information they had to go upon. Lizzie replaced the slip of paper andlaid the book on the floor just where she had found it. Etta would nodoubt soon discover her loss, and come back to fetch it. In the meantimethis very valuable piece of news must be communicated to Ulyth.
The chums talked the matter over earnestly.
"Something's happening at the side gate at eight o'clock, and they'vegot a password; that's clear," said Lizzie.
"Then I think it's our plain duty to go and investigate," returnedUlyth. "If the worst comes to the worst we could report ourselves, andtell Teddie why we went. She'd understand."
"I hope it won't need that," fluttered Lizzie nervously.
The girls were not allowed out of the house after preparation, so anyexcursions into the garden were distinctly against the rules.
Feeling very culpable at thus breaking the law of the school, Ulyth andLizzie crept quietly from the cloak-room door soon after eight hadstruck. It was not yet dark, but the sun had sunk behind the hills, andthe garden was in deep shadow. They passed the tennis-courts and therose parterre, and ran down the steps into the herbarium. Just at theoutskirts of the shrubbery a small figure was skulking among the bushes.At the sound of footsteps it gave a low, peculiar whistle, then advancedslightly from the shadow and stood at attention, as if in mute challengeof the new-comers. Irene Scott, for it was she, was evidently on sentryduty. No one with a knowledge of camp-life could mistake her attitude.
"We'll bluff it off," whispered Ulyth, and, taking Lizzie's arm, shemarched quietly past, murmuring: "John Barleycorn".
The effect of the password was electrical. Irene looked immenselyastonished. She had certainly not expected such knowledge on the partof seniors.
"Are you in it too? Oh, goody!" she gasped; then very softly she called:"All's well!" and, turning, dived back among the bushes.
Lizzie and Ulyth pushed on towards the side gate. It was open, andinside, under the shelter of a big laurel, stood a woman with a basket.She was a gipsy-looking person, with long ear-rings, and she wore ared-and-yellow handkerchief tied round her neck. As the girls approachedshe uncovered her basket with a knowing smile.
"I've brought plenty to-night, Missies," she said ingratiatingly."Cheesecakes and vanilla sandwiches and coco-nut drops and cream wafers.What'll you please to have?"
"Are you selling them?" asked Ulyth in much amazement.
The woman glanced at her keenly.
"I've not seen you two before," she remarked. "Yes, dearie, I'm sellingthem. They're wholesome cakes, and won't do you any harm. Try thesecream wafers."
"No, thanks! We don't want anything," stammered Lizzie.
"If you've spent all your money," persisted the hawker, "I'm always opento take a trinket instead. There's a young lady been here just now, andgave me this in place of a sixpence," showing a small brooch pinned intoher bodice. "Of course such things aren't worth much to me, but I'd doit
to oblige you."
At the sight of the little brooch Ulyth flushed hotly.
"We're not allowed to buy cakes and tarts," she replied. "I'm sure MissBowes doesn't know that you come here to sell things. It's not yourfault, of course, but please don't come again. It's breaking the rulesof the school."
The woman covered up her basket in an instant.
"All right, Missie, all right," she said suavely. "I don't want to pressthings on you. That's not my way. You won't catch me at this gate again,I promise you. Good night!" and, slipping out into the lane, she wasgone directly.
Ulyth shut the door and bolted it.
"She mayn't come to this particular spot again," said Lizzie, "butshe'll find some other meeting-place, the cunning old thing. I could seeit in her eye. So this is their grand secret! What a remarkablyhonourable and creditable one!"
"It's worse than I thought," groaned Ulyth. "They must have been goingon with this business for some time, Lizzie. Do you know, that broochwas Rona's. I recognized it at once. It's one she brought from NewZealand, with a Maori device on it."
"I thought better of Rona."
"So did I. She's improved so much I didn't think she'd slip back in thisway."
"I believe Tootie Phillips is the ring-leader."
"There's no doubt of it. From all we've seen, the juniors have got asystematic traffic with this woman, and post scouts to keep watch whileshe's about. You heard Irene call: 'All's well!'"
"They'll be feasting in their bedroom to-night."
"Rona won't dare, surely. Lizzie, I shouldn't have thought much of it ifthey'd done it once just for a lark. We're all human, and juniors willbe juniors. But when it gets systematic, and they begin to sell theirbrooches, that's a different matter."
"What are you going to do? Tackle the kids and tell them we've foundout, and they've got to stop it?"
"Will they really stop it just at our bidding? Or will it only put themon their guard and make them carry the thing on with more caution?"
"Then give a hint to the monitresses?"
"I wonder if we ought. I wish Catherine and Helen were different."
"Well, what do you suggest?"
"There's only one other way. Mrs. Arnold is coming to The Woodlands onFriday afternoon. Suppose we wait, catch her alone, and tell her allabout it. She's our 'Guardian of the Fire', and we ought to be able toask her things when we're in difficulties. She doesn't belong to theschool, so it isn't like telling a teacher or a monitress. We know wecan trust her absolutely."
"Right-O! But it seems a long time to have to wait."
"It can't be helped," said Ulyth, as they hurried back through thegarden.
She had decided, as she thought, for the best, though, as the resultproved, she had chosen a most unfortunate course.