ere were less
than twenty contestants who had persevered.

The decision of the judges was to be reserved until after the beginning
of the spring term, but the contest closed the Tuesday before the Easter
holiday began, and it had been stipulated in the rules that all
manuscripts must be in the hands of the judges on, or previous to, that
time.

As far as was known, no one from Wayne Hall, save Kathleen West and
Elfreda, had entered the contest, and even Patience Eliot was not sure
that Kathleen had finished and submitted her play. Several times
Patience endeavored adroitly to lead up to the subject, but Kathleen
invariably turned the conversation into other channels.

"Patience can't find out whether or not Kathleen West entered the
contest," observed Grace. A week had passed since the beginning of the
spring term, and Miriam, Elfreda, Grace and Anne were strolling across
the campus enjoying the tender beauty of a late April day.

[Illustration: The Four Friends Were Strolling Across the Campus.]

"I imagine she did," said Miriam. "I have an idea she is likely to win,
too. I can appreciate her ability if I can't wax enthusiastic over her
disposition."

"I am so tired of being asked what my play was about," declared Anne.
"Everyone seems to take it for granted that I wrote one. I only wish I
were clever enough to write a play or even a sketch."

"The announcement is to be made to-morrow isn't it?" asked Miriam.

Grace nodded. "Miss Duncan told me yesterday that there had been only
fourteen manuscripts handed in. She said at least five of them were
really clever. She and the other judges were to meet last night to talk
over the matter and make their final decision. It is to be announced at
five o'clock to-morrow afternoon in the gymnasium. Didn't you see the
notice on the big bulletin board this morning?"

"The girl who wins will stand a chance of having her head completely
turned," said Miriam. "If she is a senior, her class will bankrupt
themselves entertaining her, and if she belongs to one of the other
classes, her own class will probably prostrate themselves at her feet in
a body, not to mention the general adulation that is bound to come to
the winner."

"Then I hope I win," was Elfreda's calm statement. "I know I won't,
because my play was a comedy, and, besides, I know some one else whose
idea for a play was a hundred times better than mine."

"Who is it?" The question came simultaneously from Miriam