years old, fairly
tall for her age, not overburdened with flesh and somewhat of a tomboy.
Considering the fact that she had been born and had lived all her short
life at a boys' school the latter fact is not unnatural. I might almost
say that she had been a trifle spoiled. That, however, would be rather
unkind, for it was just that little spice of spoiling that had made
Harry so natural and unaffected. The boys called Harry "a good fellow,"
and to Harry no praise could have been sweeter. As might have been
expected, she had grown up with a fondness for boys' sports and
interests, and could skate as well if not better than any pupil Ferry
Hill had ever known, could play tennis well, could handle a pair of oars
knowingly and wasn't _very_ much afraid of a swiftly-thrown baseball.
Her muscles were hard and illness was something she had long since
forgotten about. But in spite of her addiction for boys' ways there was
still a good deal of the girl about her, and she was capable of a dozen
different emotions in as many minutes.

Roy decided that she was rather pretty. Her hair was luridly red, but
many persons would have called it beautiful. Her eyes were very blue and
had a way of looking at you that was almost disconcerting in its frank
directness. Her face was brown with sunburn, but there was color in the
cheeks. A short, somewhat pugnacious little nose, not guiltless of
freckles, went well with the red-lipped, mischievous mouth beneath. For
the rest, Harry was a wholesome, lovable little minx with the kindest
heart that ever beat under a mussy white shirt-waist and the quickest
temper that ever went with red hair.

Roy's examination of his new acquaintance was suddenly interrupted by
the subject, who swung around upon him with an expression of great
severity.

"Do you know," she asked, "that the boys aren't allowed in here without
permission and that if papa finds it out you'll be punished?"

Roy shook his head in bewilderment.

"And," continued Harry impressively, "that John is coming along the
lane, and that if he sees you here he'll have to report you, and--"

"What shall I do?" asked Roy, looking about for an avenue of escape.

"Why," said Harry, laughing enjoyably at his discomfiture, "just stay
where you are. I'm the one who gives permission!"

CHAPTER III

A MIDNIGHT HAZING

After the lights were out that night Roy lay for quite a while in his
bed in the Senior Dormitory reviewing the day. He