Part 27 (1/2)
”He's probably hunting distractedly for you on the hill,” said Bob, glad to have something definite to do. ”I think he's caught Lady, and I'll go and tell him that we've caught you.”
Just then Professor Henderson's surrey drove up. It had come for Billy, and Babbie had thoughtfully sent it on to bring back ”whoiver's hurted,”
the groom explained. But he made no objection to taking in Betty, though, rather to Billy's disappointment, she did not come under that category.
”I never saw a broken arm, ner a broken leg, ner a broken anything,” he murmured sleepily. ”I thought I'd have a chance now. Say, can I please put my head in your lap?”
”My, but your knees wiggle something awful,” Billy complained a minute later. ”Don't you think they're cracked, maybe?”
So Madeline put the sleepy elves in front with the driver and got in herself beside Betty. Curled up in Madeline's strong arms she cried a little and laughed a good deal, never noticing that Madeline was crying, too. For just beyond the berry-patch there was a heap of big stones, which made everything that Bob and Madeline had feared in that dreadful time of suspense seem very reasonable and Betty's escape from harm little short of a miracle.
It was striking eleven when the riding party and the surrey turned up the campus drive and the B's noticed with dismay that the Westcott was brilliantly lighted.
”I know what's happened,” wailed Babe. ”Our beloved matron has found us missing and she's hunting for us under the beds and in all the closets, preparatory to calling in the police. Never mind! we've got a good excuse this time.”
But the Westcott was not burning its lights to accommodate the matron.
The B's had not even been missed. Katherine met them in the hall and barely listened to their excited accounts of their evening's adventure.
”There's been plenty doing right here, too,” she said.
”What?” demanded the three.
”College thief again, but this time it's a regular raid. For some reason nearly everybody was away this evening, and the ones who had anything to lose have lost it--no money, as usual, only jewelry. Fay Ross thinks she saw the thief, but--well, you know how Fay describes people. You'd better go and see what you've lost.”
Luckily the thief had neglected the fourth floor this time, so they had lost nothing, but they sat up for an hour longer, consoling their less fortunate friends, and listening to Fay's account of her meeting with the robber.
”I'm pretty sure I should know her again,” she declared, ”and I'm perfectly sure that I've seen her before. She isn't very tall nor very dark. She's big and she looks stupid and slow, not a bit like a crafty thief, or like a college girl either. She had a silk bag on her arm. I wish I'd asked her what was in it.”
But naturally Fay hadn't asked, and she probably wouldn't see the thief soon again. Next morning Emily Lawrence telegraphed her father about her watch with diamonds set in the back, and he sent up two detectives from Boston, who, so everybody supposed, would make short work of finding the robber. They took statements from girls who had lost their valuables during the year and from Fay, prowled about the campus and the town, and finally went back to Boston and presented Emily's father with a long bill and the enlightening information that the case was a puzzling one and if anything more turned up they would communicate it.
Georgia Ames displayed no unusual interest in the robbery. She happened to tell Betty that she had spent the entire evening of the bacon-roast with Roberta, and Betty, watching her keenly, was almost sure that she knew nothing of the excitement at the Westcott until the B's came over before chapel to inquire for ”the runaway lady” and brought the news of the robbery with them. The ”runaway lady” explained that she wasn't even very lame and should have to go to cla.s.ses just as usual. Then she hid her face for a minute on Bob's broad shoulder,--for though she wasn't lame she had dreamed all night of Lady and stones and briars and broken collar-bones,--and Bob patted her curls and told her that Lady was going to be sold, and that she should have been frightened to pieces in Betty's place. After which Betty covered her scratches with a very bewitching white veil and went to chapel, just as if nothing had happened.
CHAPTER XV
PLANS FOR A COOPERATIVE COMMENCEMENT
It was Sat.u.r.day afternoon and time for the ”Merry Hearts'” meeting, which had been postponed for a day to let every one recover from Thursday evening's excitement.
”Come along, Betty,” said Roberta Lewis, poking her head in at Betty's half-open door. ”We're going to meet out on the back campus, by Nita's hammock.”
”Could you wait just a second?” asked Betty absently, looking up from a much crossed and blotted sheet of paper. ”If I can only think of a good way to end this sentence, I can inform Madeline Ayres that my 'Novelists'' paper is done. She said I couldn't possibly finish it by five. See my new motto.”
”'Do not let study interfere with your regular college career,'” read Roberta slowly. ”What a lovely sentiment! Where did you get it?”
”Helen gave it to me for a commencement present,” said Betty, drawing a very black line through the words she had written last. ”Isn't it just like her?”
”Do you mean that it's like her to give you something for commencement that you won't have much use for afterward?”
”Yes,” laughed Betty, ”and to give it to me because she says I made her see that it's the sensible way of looking at college, although she thinks the person who got up these mottoes probably meant it for a joke.