Grace Harlowe's Junior Year at High School

by Josephine Chase

  CHAPTER XX

  THE ANONYMOUS LETTER

  After the parts had been given out, rehearsals for the play went merrilyon. There were many hitches at first, but finally things settled down tosmooth running order, and as the time for its presentation approachedMiss Tebbs had good reason to feel jubilant. Each girl seemed bent ondistinguishing herself, and that teacher was heard laughingly to declarethat she had an "all star cast."

  In spite of rehearsals, Grace Harlowe's team found time for a fewbasketball games, and whipped the senior team twice in succession, muchto the disgust of Captain Julia Crosby, who threatened to go into deepmourning over what she called "her dead and gone team." She evencomposed a mournful ditty, which she sang in their ears in a wailingminor key whenever she passed any of them, and practically tormentedthem, until they actually did win one hard-fought victory over thejuniors, "just to keep Julia from perpetrating her eternal chant," asone of them remarked.

  Eleanor had outwardly settled down to the routine of school work in away that surprised even her aunt. But inwardly she was seething withrebellion toward Miss Thompson and hatred of the Phi Sigma Tau. She hadfully determined that Anne Pierson should never play Rosalind, and hadhit upon a plan by which she hoped to accomplish her ends. The Phi SigmaTau were completely carried away with Anne's impersonation ofShakespeare's heroine, and any blow struck at Anne would be equally feltby the others. Anne had been absent from one rehearsal and thus Eleanorhad had an opportunity to show her ability. She had done very well andMiss Tebbs had praised her work, though in her secret heart Eleanor knewthat Anne's work was finer than her own. But the means of gratifying herown personal vanity blinded her to everything except the fact that shewanted to play Rosalind regardless of Anne's superior ability.

  To settle Miss Thompson was not so easy a matter, and though Eleanorracked her brain for some telling method of vengeance, no inspirationcame until one afternoon in early March. Professor La Roche, irritatedto the point of frenzy, ordered her from his class, with instructions toreport herself to Miss Thompson. As she entered the open door of theprincipal's office she noticed that the room was empty of occupants. Shestopped, hesitated, then went softly in, a half-formed idea in her mindthat did not at first assume definite shape.

  "If Miss Thompson comes in, I suppose I shall have to report myself,"thought Eleanor. "While I'm here, I'll just look about and see ifI can't find some way to even up that public apology she made me make."

  Gliding over to the open desk, she ran her eye hastily over the variouspapers spread out upon it. At first she found nothing of importance, butsuddenly she began to laugh softly, her face lighted with maliciousglee.

  "Here's the wonderful paper that Miss Tabby Cat Thompson is going to readbefore the 'Arts and Crafts Club' to-morrow," she murmured. "I heard hertelling Miss Chester about it yesterday. She said it took her six weeksto prepare it on account of the time she spent in looking up her facts.It will take me less than six minutes to dispose of it."

  Seizing the essay with both hands, she tore it across, and then tore itagain and again, until it was literally reduced to shreds. These shegathered into a heap and left in the middle of the desk. Glancing aboutto see that no one was near, she was about to step into the corridorwhen she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Quick as a flash sheflung open the door of the little lavatory just outside the office andconcealed herself just as a girl turned from the main corridor into theshort passage leading to the principal's office. Eleanor, holding thedoor slightly ajar, peered stealthily out at the new-comer, who was noneother than Grace Harlowe.

  Having no recitation that hour, Grace had run up to the office to obtainMiss Thompson's permission to use the gymnasium that afternoon forbasketball practice. A hasty glance inside the office revealed to Gracethat the principal was not there. She hesitated a moment, walked towardthe desk, then turned and went out again.

  The moment she turned the corner, Eleanor darted out of the lavatory andfled down the corridor, just as the bell rang for the end of the period.In a moment the main corridor was filled with girls from the variousclassrooms, and, joining them, Eleanor entered the study hall withoutreporting her dismissal from French class.

  She was somewhat nervous and trembled a little at the thought of hernear discovery, but felt not the slightest qualm of conscience at herruthless destruction of another's property. On the contrary, sheexperienced a wicked satisfaction, and smiled to herself as she picturedMiss Thompson's consternation when the latter should discover her loss.Best of all, the principal would never find out who did it, for Eleanorvowed never to admit her guilt.

  She decided to go at once to Professor La Roche and apologize, so thathe would not report her to Miss Thompson. Without a doubt an effortwould be made to find the culprit, and if it were proven that she didnot return to the study hall as soon as dismissed from French, she mightbe asked to account for it, and thus call down suspicion upon herself.

  On her way to rhetoric recitation, she stopped at Professor La Roche'sdoor, greatly astonishing him by a prettily worded apology, which hereadily accepted and beamed upon her with forgiving good-nature. Feelingthat she had bridged that difficulty, Eleanor entered the classroom tofind Miss Thompson talking in low, guarded tones to Miss Chester, wholooked both, shocked and surprised. She caught the words "entirelydestroyed," "serious offence" and "investigate at once," Then theprincipal left the room and Miss Chester turned to the class and beganthe recitation.

  To Eleanor's surprise, nothing was said of the matter that day. Schoolwas dismissed as usual, and the girls went out without dreaming that onthe morrow they would all be placed under suspicion until the personguilty of the outrage was found.

  The following morning, after opening exercises, Miss Thompson statedbriefly the destruction of her paper.

  "I was out of my office barely ten minutes," she said, "yet when Ireturned some one had ruthlessly torn the essay to bits and left thepieces piled in the middle of my desk. As I had spent considerable timeand research in getting the subject matter together, the destruction ofthe paper is particularly annoying. Whoever was contemptible enough toengage in such mischief must have known this. It looks like a deliberateattempt to insult me. It is hard to believe one of my girls guilty, yetit is not probable that any one outside could be responsible. A girl whowould wilfully do such a thing is a menace to the school and should beremoved from it. I am not going to any extreme measures to find themiscreant. Were I to question each girl in turn I fear the offendermight perjure herself rather than admit her guilt. But I am confidentthat sooner or later I shall know the truth of the matter."

  As Miss Thompson concluded, she looked over the roomful of girls who satwatching her with serious faces. Which one of them was guilty? Timealone would tell.

  At recess that morning the subject of the play was for once forgotten inthe excitement occasioned by the principal's recent disclosure. Groupsof girls indignantly denied even the thought of such mischief.

  "I don't believe Miss Thompson would ever suspect us of any such thing,"remarked Jessica to her friends.

  "Of course not, goose," replied Grace. "She knows us too well for that."

  But it was with a peculiar apprehension of something unpleasant thatGrace answered a summons to the principal's office just before schoolclosed for the day.

  "Grace," she said, as the young girl entered the office, "were you in myoffice yesterday afternoon between half past one and a quarter of two?"

  "Why, yes, Miss Thompson. I came to ask permission to use the gymnasium,but you were out, so I came back and asked you just before schoolclosed."

  "Yes, I remember that you did," replied the principal. "However, I wantyou to read this."

  Grace took the paper, looking rather perplexed, and read:

  "Ask Miss Harlowe what she was doing in your office between half past one and a quarter of two yesterday."

  "A PASSERBY."

  "Why--wh
y----" stammered Grace, her eyes growing large with wonder."I don't understand. I came here at that time, for I looked at theclock as I came in, but I was only here for a second."

  Then the truth dawned upon her. "Why, Miss Thompson," she cried, "yousurely don't think I tore up your essay?"

  "No, Grace, I don't," replied the principal. "But I believe that the onewho wrote this note is the one who did do it, and evidently wishes tofasten the guilt upon you. It looks to me as though we had a commonenemy. Do you recognize either the paper or the writing?"

  "No," replied Grace slowly, shaking her head. "Vertical writing alllooks alike. The paper is peculiar. It is note paper, but different fromany I ever saw before. It looks like----"

  She stopped suddenly, a shocked look creeping into her eyes.

  "What is it, Grace?" said Miss Thompson, who had been closely watchingher.

  "I--just--had a queer idea," faltered Grace.

  "If you suspect any one, Grace, it is your duty to tell me," said theprincipal. "I cannot pass lightly over such a piece of wantondestruction. To clear up this mystery, should be a matter of vitalinterest to you, too, as this letter is really an insinuation againstyou."

  Grace was silent.

  "I am waiting for you, Grace," said the principal. "Will you do asI wish?"

  The tears rushed to Grace's eyes. "Forgive me, Miss Thompson," she saidtremulously, "but I can tell you nothing."

  "You are doing wrong, Grace, in withholding your knowledge," said theolder woman rather sternly, "and I am greatly displeased at yourstubbornness. Ordinarily I would not ask you to betray any of yourschoolmates, but in this instance I am justified, and you are making aserious mistake in sacrificing your duty upon the altar of school-girlhonor."

  "I am sorry, Miss Thompson," said Grace, striving to steady her voice."I value your good opinion above everything, but I can tell you nothingyou wish to know. Please, please don't ask me."

  "Very well," responded the principal in a tone of cold dismissal,turning to her desk.

  With a half-stifled sob, Grace hurried from the room. For the firsttime, since entering High School, she had incurred the displeasure ofher beloved principal, and all for the sake of a girl who was unworthyof the sacrifice. For Grace had recognized the paper. It was preciselythe same style of paper on which Eleanor Savell had declined herThanksgiving invitation.