The Orchard Secret Read online

  CHAPTER III Black Danger

  Rather timid, diffident, and certainly not as self-confident as they hadbeen when the sneering sophomores had invaded their room, Arden, Terry,and Sim stood looking at one another outside the hall. Finally Ardenbroke the portentous silence by saying:

  "Well, I suppose we had better go in."

  "No help for it," voiced Sim.

  "Oh, it may not be as bad as we think," consoled Terry. "It's like goingin for a swim the first day of the season. The first is always theworst."

  "Don't talk to me about dives and swimming!" snapped Sim. "I'm cheated,and I resent it!"

  "Oh, Sim!" murmured Arden helplessly.

  "I don't mean you, my dear. It's just hard times and whoever isresponsible for storing vegetables in the pool that I'm sore against!"

  "Well, come on!" urged Terry. "Let's get it over with."

  With hearts momentarily beating faster, the three stepped into therecreation hall on their floor. It was a big room that was rapidlyfilling with girls, girls, and more girls.

  "Just group yourselves about, young ladies. I shall not detain you verylong," said Miss Tidbury Anklon, the dean, with a half smile as she stoodteetering upon her toes on the platform at the end of the room. MissAnklon was a small woman, dark of complexion, and thin. This intermittentraising of herself on her toes as she talked seemed to be an effort tomake herself taller and more impressive. Her severity and keen words attimes, however, made her sufficiently respected and not a little feared.She was now trying to bring about some semblance of order in theinevitable chaos of the first assembly of new pupils.

  "Quiet, please!" Miss Anklon tapped her knuckles on a convenient table."There are a few things I must explain to you freshmen girls on yourfirst night in Cedar Ridge."

  But, in spite of her promise, the dean did keep them rather long, untilSim found herself standing first on one foot and then on the other. Ardenleaned quite frankly on Terry, who in turn rested herself against thenearest wall. It hadn't seemed worth while to sit down at first. Now itwas too late to take chairs. The dean generalized.

  The freshmen must always "sign in and out" when leaving the collegegrounds and returning. They would find the registry book in the lowervestibule hall. They might go to town, if the time of their classes wouldpermit. But if in going to town a class period was missed, the offendingones would be "campused" for a week.

  "Not allowed to leave the college precincts," Miss Anklon took pains totranslate.

  Arden, her chums, and the others were told of the "honor system," of"upper classmen" and "lower classmen," and of rules and regulations,until many of the girls began to wonder how they could possibly rememberit all.

  One thing was deeply impressed upon them. Here, at Cedar Ridge, theywere, for the time being, freshmen. However great had been their standingat their local high or preparatory schools, now they were the lowest ofthe low. The dean didn't say that in so many words, but this was theimpression she created.

  Miss Anklon, "Tiddy" to the initiated, implied that as far asinstructions along those lines went, the sophomores would not be long inmaking such matters clear to the freshmen. But it was all to be taken ina sporting manner and in the end would do much to cement friendships andfoster school spirit, smiled Tiddy.

  Terry was busy looking about the room, selecting girls who, she thought,looked like her friends at home. Arden was wondering what Sim was goingto do now that there was no pool, and Sim, while also looking about, wasdebating with herself just how much the loss of the swimming she hadcounted on was going to mean to her.

  Arden Blake, Theodosia (Terry) Landry and Bernice (Sim) Westover had beenchums through their primary, grammar, and Vincent Prep days. Theirfriendships began very early, when all three, living near one another inthe small city of Pentville, found themselves in the same class. Theirassociation was further cemented when all three graduated at the sametime from Vincent, which was an unofficial "feeder" for Cedar RidgeCollege.

  Addison Blake, the father of Arden, was a prosperous automobile dealer inPentville. Terry was the daughter of Mrs. Nelson Landry, a widow with afairly good income even through the depression. Sim had for her parentsMr. and Mrs. Benson Westover. Mr. Westover owned a large departmentstore, with branches in several cities. Mr. Westover had wanted a boy andhis wife a girl, when the daughter was born, and Sim's nickname was acombination of She and Him. It fitted her perfectly. She was clever andpopular in the trio and outside of it, more especially as she was in aposition to obtain from the grocery department in her father's store manygood things to eat--food more or less forbidden at surreptitious schoolfeasts.

  "There's Mary Todd," whispered Arden as the talk of the dean wasobviously drawing to a close.

  "Yes, and Ethel Anderson and Jane Randall," added Sim.

  These were three other girls from Vincent, but they lived in a New Yorksuburb. They were friends with but not exactly chums of Arden and her twoclose companions. They had not made up their minds to come to Cedar Ridgeuntil after the three inseparables had made their announcement.

  "Now, my dear young ladies," Miss Anklon finally concluded, "you will goto the dining room and be assigned your tables for the term."

  Instantly a flood of conversation was loosed. Arden and Sim clungtogether, and Terry, who had been momentarily separated from them, pushedher way through a throng of strange girls to reach her two friends.

  Dean Anklon led the way, and all the freshmen followed down the five darkflights of stairs to the large dining room that was brilliantly lighted.At the door the dean was called aside by one of the teachers, and thebewildered freshies, swarming in, were left huddled together like a troopof new soldiers whose commander had deserted them.

  Terry, at this point, took matters into her own hands, and, motioning toher chums to follow, selected a chair at a pleasant table about halfwaydown the length of the dining room and near a window. Some other freshiesfollowed the lead of the more bold three, and the chairs were all quicklyfilled.

  Terry looked at Arden, obviously well pleased with herself at so soonhaving become a class leader. Her joy was short-lived, however. A nonetoo gentle tap on her shoulder caused her to look up.

  "You freshies! What do you mean by sitting at our table?"

  It was Toots Everett, with Jessica Darglan and Priscilla MacGovernstanding behind her. All were glaring at the offending freshmen.

  "A pretty good start, I must say!" sneered Jessica. "Your table is downthere!" Dramatically she pointed to the far-distant lower end of theroom.

  "Go down there," Priscilla said a little more gently. "You know youfreshmen will have to think, now that you are in college. I'm afraid thismeans, for you three, the picking of lots of apples."

  Without a word, but deeply humiliated, the freshmen all rose and followedthe lead of Terry, Arden, and Sim to their own proper table. Otherfreshmen, who had not made this social error, as well as the assembledsophomores, juniors and seniors, looked on, smiling.

  "What did she mean--picking a lot of apples?" whispered Arden.

  "How do I know?" gasped Sim. "Oh, is my face red!"

  The three and the other freshmen quickly seated themselves in the properchairs, and a chatter of conversation, more or less coherent, began. Mostof the girls were strangers among strangers, but, realizing that theywere all under the same roof and would be for some time to come, theysoon began talking together, introducing themselves and a friendly spiritwas quickly engendered.

  "Oh, Arden! What a dreadful thing to do!" gasped Terry. "Wouldn't youknow I'd start something like that!" She was greatly embarrassed.

  "It's all right, Terry," soothed Arden. "If only, though, it didn't haveto be our own particular sophomores whose seats we took."

  "Our fruit-cake hasn't a chance now, and I'm afraid we shall be reallywell hazed," said Sim as she looked sadly at Terry. Then she glanced downat her plate, adding: "This cold ham with sliced tomatoes doesn't help toraise my spirits an
y. Poor fruit-cake! Not a chance!"

  "Yes, it has a chance, Sim!" excitedly whispered Terry. "I have an idea!If that fruit-cake is to be eaten we had best do it ourselves. There aretwelve of us at this table. I'm afraid it doesn't mean much cake each,but we must stick together in times like these."

  "What is it, Terry? What are you going to do?" Sim wanted to know.

  "Now, just listen, and you'll find out." Getting the attention of theother girls at the table, Terry continued in a tragic whisper: "As soonas you can, after we three leave, all of you here come to our room. It's513." She indicated Arden and Sim with herself. "Knock twice, apause--another knock. Those sophs will never taste that fruit-cake!"

  "It's a grand idea!" declared Arden.

  After this, amid bubbling talk, the meal was quickly finished. Thestudents began filing out of the dining hall. Old friends greeted oneanother with open arms and in a surprisingly short time most of thetalking, laughing groups had disappeared into various rooms where, behindclosed doors, they still talked and talked and talked.

  Arden, Sim, and Terry hurried to 513 to get it ready for visitors. It wasnot long before the first "tap-tap--tap," sounded and the first visitorswere admitted. Others followed until the window seat and the beds, to saynothing of the chairs, were all much sat upon until, as Sim whispered toArden, it was almost necessary to put out a sign of S. R. O.

  The fruit-cake was brought out from hiding, was much admired, and thenwent the way of all good fruit-cakes; a nail file being used to cut itinto slices, and handkerchiefs serving as plates.

  In the intervals of eating, the girls found out much about one anotherand vowed to stick together during the hazing, the prospects of which hadreally frightened some. Voices rose hilariously higher and higher, andlaughter became more frequent. They were having a fine time. It was goodto be thus sitting around in a college room, talking to interestinggirls, thought Arden and her two chums, and planning future fun. Studieswere momentarily pushed into the mental background.

  Now and again someone would inquire about "math" or "English lit." Girlswhose older sisters had been to Cedar Ridge before them were somewhatwell informed as to which of the instructors were "easy" and those forwhom students must really make adequate preparation.

  "I don't worry much about English lit, though," Arden remarked, brushingcrumbs from her lap. "But math I'll never get through. I just can't doit!"

  "Math is easy for me," declared Mary Todd, a really lovely-looking girl,wearing a simple, well-cut sports dress of the "shirtmaker" type. "I'llhelp you, Arden."

  "Thanks a lot, Mary," Arden responded gratefully.

  "I have to study hard for everything," lamented Sim. "I'm not a bitclever that way."

  "Well," began Terry, "I think----"

  But she never had a chance to say what she thought. Suddenly, before anyof the convivial little party realized what was happening, the door of513 was pushed open and the "Terrible Three," as Arden later nicknamedthem, stood within the room.

  "What's this? Freshmen meeting in your room, Miss Blake!" Toots Everettwas very stern. "You girls who don't belong here will go at once to yourown rooms and don't do any more of this visiting. Jessica, confiscate thefruit-cake!"

  Jessica made a noble attempt, but there was no fruit-cake. The red andgold box was empty. All that remained were a few crumbs for the mice.Arden smiled sweetly at Pips MacGovern, Terry was grinning mostenjoyably, and Sim's round eyes outdid themselves in roundness.

  The offending freshmen quickly vanished to their own rooms, while thethree sophomores were speechless with indignation. Toots finally foundher voice to say frostily:

  "This is the third time we have met, Miss Westover, Miss Blake and MissLandry. This meeting is somewhat to your advantage. But we sophomoreswill not forget. You three will report to me, Miss Everett, in my roomtomorrow after classes. The program has been changed. Hazing will beginofficially tomorrow!"

  Waiting an ominous moment to see if the threatening words had any actualeffect, the three sophomores then silently left the room.

  "Well, that's that!" remarked Sim.

  "Wasn't she dreadful!" murmured Terry.

  "It's going to be fun, girls!" Arden exclaimed. "I'm not a bit afraid ofbeing hazed. Now, let's unpack the rest of our things, and then we mustwrite some letters home. They will all be so anxious to know whathappened on our first day at Cedar Ridge."

  "Such a lot has happened," murmured Sim, looking doubtful. "I'm afraid wehaven't exactly endeared ourselves to those sophs."

  "Who cares?" laughed Terry.

  "After hazing is over they'll be our good friends," declared Arden. "It'spart of their stock in trade to seem very gruff and terrible now, but weneedn't worry about that. Let's get at our letters. You'll have to lendme something to write on, Sim. I don't seem to have any paper in mysuitcase. There's some in my trunk. I suppose that'll be up tomorrow."

  "I expected this, Arden," Sim laughed. "I brought some extra stationeryfor you. See that you write your mother a nice long letter. No moreten-word telegrams."

  The room was soon quiet except for the scratching of pens on paper. Itwas very serene around Cedar Ridge College now, and quiet in the farm andorchard grounds that formed part of the old estate which had beentransformed into a seat of learning.

  The girls had been told that night letters might be placed on a table atthe end of their corridor, whence they would be taken up by one of theporters or janitors in time for the early morning mail.

  "Well, I've finished!" said Terry, sealing her last envelope.

  "So have I," said Arden.

  "Let's take them out and leave them on the table," suggested Sim. "Thefolks will get them tomorrow night."

  As the three walked down the dimly lighted corridor, they saw two otherfreshmen going back to their room after having deposited their mail onthe table over which glowed a small light.

  This table was at the end of the corridor nearest the old apple orchard,which formed part of the college farm. The girls had heard something ofthe college farm, and there had been a veiled threat that the freshmenhad to gather apples for their sophomore hazers.

  The big window in the corridor was open. And as Arden and her two chumsdropped their letters upon the table they thrust their heads out for abreath of the fresh night air.

  "I wonder what sort of apples grow in that orchard?" mused Sim.

  "They must be very choice," suggested Arden.

  "How do you know?" asked Terry.

  "Don't you remember, that good-looking porter with the cute littlemustache who took up our bags, was gazing so soulfully out of the windowinto this same orchard?" suggested Arden. "There was such a queer, raptlook on his face, I'm sure, though I could see only the back of hishead."

  "Oh, my word!" mocked Sim. "Aren't we getting poetical and humorous allof a sudden!"

  "Hark!" cautioned Terry in a whisper.

  From the dark orchard below them and to the northeast of the collegebuilding sounded a cry of alarm and fright floating through the murkyblackness. It was a cry as if someone was in danger.

  "Oh!" gasped Sim. "Whatever was that?"

  Then, with one accord, she and her chums ran back to their room andclosed the door but did not lock it. For it was against the rules ofCedar Ridge to lock bedroom doors. Miss Anklon had impressed this on thefreshmen. Terry, however, insisted on dragging a chair against theportal, bracing the back of it under the knob so it would be difficult togain access.

  The three girls gazed at one another with fear in their eyes.

  Was there danger abroad in the blackness of the night?