must be communicated with at once. She must face the music this time. She
almost hailed Electra with joy as the source of a brief respite.

Electra crossed the room, rested one hand upon the corner of Miss
Woodhull's desk, plucked up her courage and plunged in head first:

"You scolded Beverly Ashby for receivin' a letter she didn't _get_. It
wasn't hers at all. It was Petty Gaylord's. I saw her receive it. I don't
want to tell tales, but I _wont_ have Beverly blamed for something she
never done--_did_. She's always been nice and polite to me and Petty aint
been. Eleanor Allen _stole_ that letter and brought it down here to you
just to get Beverly into trouble. I _saw_ her do it. She took it right
out of Beverly's history book. Petty dropped it in history class and
never knew what had become of it. The next morning Beverly came into our
room and told Petty that she had picked it up to return it to her but
when she opened her book to get it it was gone, but Petty wouldn't
believe her and said awful things to her till Beverly just looked at her
the way she _can_ look when she _despises_ people (well Miss Woodhull
knew that look) and went out of the room. But Eleanor had that letter all
the time, 'cause I saw her sneak into Beverly's room and snitch it. I
don't know what she wanted with it, but after I saw her take it I watched
her every single minute. I thought she would give it to Petty, of course,
they're so stuck on each other, but she didn't. She just kept and kept it
for some mucker trick, and when I saw her comin' down to your study last
night I knew just as well as anything what she was up to. She hates
Beverly just because she won't have anything to do with her and laughs at
Petty and her mash. Petty's just dead in love with that feller at
Annapolis. Now if you don't believe what I've told you you can just send
for both of them and ask them yourself. I don't care a cent what you do
for I'm going to leave this hateful school tomorrow and you can't stop
me. And I'll tell dad all about this fracas too. I hate you and
everything in the school--so there, now!" and with this final explosion
Eleanor turned and fled from the room. Erin Go Bra! If Eleanor's story
had not collapsed Miss Woodhull her English certainly would have
compassed that result. She fell back upon her chair panting. Just then
her phone rang: BOMB No. 2.

"No, Admiral Seldon, your niece is not here this evening. She is
temporarily absent. When do I e