k her reddened
eyelids. In truth she had good need of comfort, for Berta Abbott herself
had said that she was peculiar. And peculiar meant queer!

That evening Robbie sat down to study for the Latin test announced for
the next day. Miss Cutter was studying, too, harder than ever. The green
shade was pulled so fiercely forward that a fringe of hair stood up in a
crown where the elastic had rumpled it. Her grammar, lexicon and
text-book occupied most of the table, but Robbie did not complain. She
could manage very well by laying her books, one on the open face of
another, in her lap. For once she was grateful that an ENGAGED sign
shielded them from interruptions, for Latin was her shakiest subject,
especially the rules of indirect discourse. The instructor had warned the
class that this weak spot was to be the point of attack. If Robbie Belle
should not succeed in drumming the rules into her head before the ideas
in it began to spin around and around in their usual dizzy fashion when
she waxed sleepy, she might just as well stay away from the recitation
room. Or better perhaps, for in absence there was a possibility of both
doubt and hope: hope on Robbie Belle's part that she might have been able
to answer the questions if she had been there, on the teacher's part
doubt concerning the exact extent of the pupil's knowledge.

At the end of the corridor just outside their door a narrow stairway led
to the north tower rooms on the floor above. Beatrice Leigh and Lila
Allan and a number of their liveliest friends lived up there on the
fifth, with Berta Abbott at the foot of the stairs near Robbie's place of
abode.

Just as Robbie's usually serene brow was puckering its hardest over the
sequence of tenses, a door banged open in the tower and the stairs
creaked under swift clatter of feet--a dozen at the very least.

Miss Cutter scowled beneath the green shade; Robbie Belle could tell that
from the way the fringe of upright hair vibrated.

"Savages!" she muttered, "they'll tear the building to pieces. No wonder
the newspapers report that the college girl's favorite mode of locomotion
is sliding down the banisters."

"No," said Robbie Belle, "not that. They take hold of the railing and
jump several steps at a time. I've seen them. Miss Leigh says she does it
for exercise."

"And this also is exercise!" Miss Cutter clutched her ears as a tornado
swept past their threshold.

Robbie bent to listen anxiously. "They're going