tremulously.
"Oh, Julia!" exclaimed Grace, hopping about, "I've a perfectly splendid
idea!"

"What is it?" asked Julia breathlessly.

"Let's have a grand blow out and bury the hatchet with pomp and ceremony.
We'll have speeches from both classes, and a perfectly gorgeous feed
afterwards. You break the news to your class and I'll endeavor to get my
naughty children under control once more. I believe some of them love me a
little yet," she smiled.

"Of course, they do," said Julia stoutly. "I must say I don't see why they
were so hateful to you, even if Anne Pierson were under suspicion. I know
I am to blame for helping the grudge along," she added remorsefully, "but
I am, not the only one."

"I know," said Grace quickly. "There are lots of things I'd like to say,
but for certain reasons of my own I shall not say them. You understand, I
think."

Julia nodded. She did, indeed, understand, and the full beauty of Grace
Harlowe's nobility of spirit was revealed to her.

"You are the finest, squarest girl I ever knew, Grace," she said
admiringly.

"Nonsense," laughed Grace, flushing a little at the tribute paid her by
the once arrogant junior captain. "You don't know me at all. I have just
as many faults as other girls, with a few extra ones thrown in. I have no
claim to a pedestal. I hope we shall be friends for the rest of our
schooldays and forever after. You will be a senior next year, and I shall
be a junior. It's time we put by childish quarrels, and assumed the high
and mighty attitude of the upper classes. It is our duty to become a
living example to erring freshmen."

Both girls laughed merrily; then Grace rose to go. She kissed Julia
good-bye and walked out of the house as though on air. Her cup of
happiness was full to the brim. She carefully tucked the precious paper
away in her bag and sped down the street on winged feet.

The incredible had come to pass. Her old-time enemy had become her friend.
She wondered if it could have ever come about by any other means. She
doubted it. She had always heard that "Desperate cases require desperate
remedies." The happenings of the past week seemed conclusive proof of the
truth of the saying. Furthermore, she believed in the sincerity of Julia
Crosby's repentance. It was more than skin deep. She felt that
henceforward Julia would be different. Best of all, she had the reward of
her own conscience. In being true to Anne she had been true to herself.




CHAPTER XVI

AN OUNCE OF LOYALTY


When the girls of the sophomore class entered their locker-room the next
day they found a notice posted to the effect that a class meeting would be
held after school in the locker-room at which all members were earnestly
requested to be present.

There was considerable speculation as to the object of the meeting, and no
one knew who had posted the notice. Grace kept her own counsel. She wished
to take the class by surprise, and thus make Anne's restoration to favor
complete.

At recess Nora and Jessica brought up the subject, but found that Grace
apparently wished to avoid talking about it.

"You'll attend, won't you, Grace?" asked Anne.

"Of course," said Grace hastily. "Will you excuse me, girls? I have a
theorem to study."

She felt that if she stayed a minute longer she would tell her friends the
good news and spoil her surprise.

"What makes Grace act so queerly to-day?" said Jessica. "I believe she
knows something and won't tell us."

"I'll make her tell it," said Nora, and ran after Grace. But just then the
gong sounded and recess was over.

As soon as school was dismissed for the day, the entire sophomore class
crowded into the locker-room. They were curious to know what was in the
wind. Every member was present, and Grace felt a secret satisfaction when
Miriam Nesbit, looking rather bored, sauntered in.

There was a confused murmur of voices. The girls chattered gayly to each
other, as they waited for some one to call the meeting to order. When
Grace left the corner where she had been standing with her three friends,
and stood facing her classmates, the talking instantly ceased.

"Girls," she said, "I suppose you wonder who called this meeting, and why
it was called? I wrote the notice you all read this morning. I have
something to tell you which I hope you will be glad to hear."

"At the beginning of the school year, some things happened that caused
unpleasant suspicions to rest upon a member of our class. You all know who
I mean. It has caused her and her friends a great deal of unhappiness, and
I am glad to be able at last to bring you the proof that she has been
misjudged."

Grace paused and looked about her. She noted that Miriam had turned very
pale.

"Just as I suspected," thought Grace, "she really did have a hand in that
signal affair."

Then she continued.

"A few days ago I had occasion to call upon the junior captain, Miss
Crosby. While there, she assured me that the juniors did receive our
signals, but that Miss Pierson had absolutely nothing to do with the
matter. I was not sure that you would care to take my word, alone, for
this"--Grace couldn't resist this one tiny thrust--"so she very kindly
gave me the assurance in writing, signed by herself."

Grace then unfolded the paper and in a clear voice read Julia's statement.

There was not a sound in the room. Grace stood waiting. She had done her
part, the rest lay with her classmates.

Nora and Jessica had their arms around Anne, who had begun to cry quietly.
The relief was so great that it had unnerved her. Then Marian Barber
sprang to Grace's side and seized her by the hand.

"Listen, girls," she cried, "I want to acknowledge for the second time
that I am heartily ashamed of myself. We have all been nasty and
suspicious toward Anne. We never gave her a chance to defend herself, we
just went ahead and behaved like a lot of silly children. I am sorry for
anything I have ever said about her, and I want to tell you right here
that I consider Grace Harlowe the ideal type of High School girl. I only
wish I were half as noble and courageous. I suppose you all wonder why
Grace went to see Julia Crosby. Well I'll tell you. I found out about it
from Julia's sister this morning."

"Oh Marian, please don't," begged Grace, rosy with confusion.

But the girls cried in chorus, "Tell us, Marian! Don't mind Grace!"

When Marian had finished many of the girls were in tears. They crowded
around Anne and Grace vying with each other in trying to show their good
will. Then Eva Allen proposed three cheers for Grace and Anne.

They were given with a will. The noise of the ovation bringing one of the
teachers to the door with the severe injunction, "Young ladies please
contain yourselves. There is too much noise here."

The girls dispersed by twos and threes, until Marian Barber and the chums
were the only ones left.

"I have a motto," said Marian, "that I shall bring here to-morrow and hang
in the locker-room. If I had paid more attention to it it would have been
better for me."

"What is it, Marian?" asked Jessica.

"Wait and see," replied Marian. "Oh, it's a good one, and appropriate,
too."

After saying good-bye to Marian the four chums walked on together.

"Are you happy, Anne, dear?" said Grace, slipping her hand into Anne's.

Anne looked up at Grace with a smile so full of love and gratitude that
Grace felt well repaid for all she had endured for friendship's sake.

"Everything has turned out just like the last chapter in a book," sighed
Nora with satisfaction "The sinner--that's Julia Crosby--has repented, and
the truly good people--Anne and Grace--have triumphed and will live happy
forever after."

The girls laughed at Nora's remark.

"Now I can go on planning for our big game without being afraid that the
girls will stay away from practice and do things to annoy and make it hard
for me," said Grace happily. "I know that we shall win. I feel so full of
enthusiasm I don't know what to do. Oh, girls, I forgot to tell you that
Julia Crosby and I have a perfectly splendid plan. But I promised not to
say anything to anyone about it until she comes back to school."

"How funny it sounds to hear you talk about having plans with Julia
Crosby," said Jessica laughing. "You will make Miriam Nesbit jealous if
you take Julia away from her."

"By the way, girls!" exclaimed Nora, "what became of Miriam? I saw her
enter the locker-room, but she wasn't there when Marian Barber began her
speech. I know she did not remain, because I looked for her and couldn't
find her."

"I saw her go," said Grace quietly, "That is the only part of this story
that doesn't end well. She doesn't like Anne or me any better than before
and never will, I'm afraid. She influenced the girls against us, after the
first game, and you remember what she said at the basketball meeting,
don't you, Nora?"

"Yes," responded Nora, "I do, and if she hadn't been David's sister I
would have told her a few plain truths, then and there."

"I said at the beginning of the year that I believed Miriam had a better
self," said Grace thoughtfully. "I still believe it, and I am not going to
give her up yet."

"I don't envy you the task of finding it," said Jessica.

"I wonder what Marian Barber's motto is?" mused Anne. "She said it would
be a good one."

"I have no doubt of that. Marian Barber doesn't usually do things by
halves when once she starts," said Jessica. "I am surprised that she ever
allowed herself to be drawn into Miriam's net. She seems awfully sorry for
it now."

"Oh, girls," cried Nora suddenly. "I have a half a dollar."

"Really?" said Jessica. "I didn't suppose there was that much money in
Oakdale."

"My sister gave it to me this morning," Nora went on, ignoring Jessica's
remark. "I am supposed to buy a new collar with it, but if you are
thirsty----"

"I am simply perishing with thirst," murmured Grace.

Five minutes later the four girls were seated in the nearest drug store
busily engaged with hot chocolate, while they congratulated Nora on having
spent her money in a good cause.

The sophomores smiled to themselves next morning at Marian's motto. It
hung in a prominent place in the locker-room and read: "An ounce of
loyalty is worth a pound of cleverness."




CHAPTER XVII

BURYING THE HATCHET


It was some days before Julia Crosby was able to return to school, but
when she did put in an appearance, she lost no time in taking her class in
hand and bringing about a much-needed reform. The part played by Grace
Harlowe in Julia's rescue had been related by her to various classmates
who had visited her during her illness, and Grace found that the older
girls were inclined to lionize her more than she cared to be. She received
praise enough to have completely turned her head had she not been too
sensible to allow it to do so.

After holding a conference with Julia, the two girls sent out notices to
their respective classes that a grand reunion of the two classes would
take place on the next Saturday afternoon at one o'clock, at the old
Omnibus House, providing the weather permitted. A tax of twenty-five cents
apiece was levied on the members of both classes. "Please pay your money
promptly to the treasurer of your class," ended the notices, "if you wish
to have plenty to eat. Important rites and ceremonies will be observed.
You will be sorry if you stay away, as an interesting program is
promised. Please keep this notice a secret."

"The field back of the Omnibus House is an ideal place for the burial,"
Julia told Grace. "It was there that the 'Black Monks of Asia' held their
revel and were unmasked by the freshmen. Besides, it's quiet and we shan't
be disturbed."

Grace agreed with her, and the two girls outlined the proceedings with
many a chuckle.

The junior and sophomore classes had been requested to go directly to the
Omnibus House.

"It would be great to have both classes march out there, but we should
have the whole of Oakdale marching with us before we arrived at the sacred
spot," observed Grace, with a giggle.

"If we don't have a lot of freshmen to suppress it will be surprising. I
do hope the girls haven't told anyone," Julia answered. "By the way, we
have a hatchet at home that will be just the thing to bury. It is more
like a battle-ax than anything else, and looks formidable enough to
represent the feeling that the juniors and sophomores are about to bury.
Now, Grace, you must prepare a speech, for we ought to have representative
remarks from both classes. Then Anne Pierson must recite 'The Bridge of
Sighs,' after I have made it over to suit the occasion. We'll have to
have some pallbearers. Three girls from each class will do."

Julia planned rapidly and well. Grace listened attentively. The junior
captain had remarkable energy. It was easy to see why Julia had always
headed her class. Julia in turn, was equally impressed with Grace's
ability. A mutual admiration society bade fair to spring up between the
two, so recently at swords' points.

On Saturday the weather left nothing to be desired. It seemed like a day
in late spring, although it was in reality early March. At one o'clock
precisely the two classes, with the exception of one member, assembled.
Julia Crosby acting as master of ceremonies, formed the classes in two
lines, and marched them to the middle of the field. Here, to their
complete mystification, they saw a large hole about four feet in depth had
been dug.

"Who on earth dug that hole, and what is it for?" inquired a curious
sophomore.

"Hush!" said Julia Crosby reverently. "That is a grave. Be patient. Curb
your rising curiosity. Soon you shall know all."

"Assistant Master Harlowe, will you arrange the esteemed spectators, so
that the ceremony may proceed?"

Grace stepped forward and solemnly requested the girls to form a double
line on each side of the opening. The shorter girls were placed in the
front rows.

"The sophomores will now sing their class song," directed the master of
ceremonies.

When the sophomores had finished, the juniors applauded vigorously. The
juniors' song was next in order and the sophomores graciously returned the
applause.

"I will now request the worthy junior members Olive Craig, Anne Green and
Elsie Todd, to advance. Honorable Assistant Master Harlowe, will you name
your trusted, followers?"

Grace named Nora, Jessica and Marian Barber who came to her side with
alacrity.

"During the brief space of time that we are obliged to absent ourselves,
will every guest keep her roving eyes bent reverently on the ground and
think about nothing. It is well to fittingly prepare for what is to come."

With this Julia marched her adherents down the field and around the corner
of the Omnibus House. She was followed by Grace and her band. There was a
chorus of giggles from the chosen helpers that was sternly checked by
Julia.

Before their eyes stood a large, open paste-board box lined with the
colors of both classes, in which reposed the Crosby hatchet, likened to a
battle-ax by Julia. Its handle was decorated with sophomore and junior
ribbons, and around the head was a wreath of immortelles. A disreputable
looking sheaf of wheat lay across the end of the box.

There was a smothered laugh from Nora, whose quick brain had grasped the
full significance of the thing.

"This is not an occasion for levity," reprimanded Grace sternly. "Laughing
will not be tolerated."

Three twisted ribbon handles of sophomore colors and three of junior
ornamented either side of the box. Each girl grasped a handle.

"We will proceed with the ceremony," directed Julia. "Lift up the box."

This was easier said than done. The handles were so close together that
the girls hardly had room to step. The journey was finally accomplished
without any further mishap than the sliding off of the wheat sheaf. This
was hastily replaced by Jessica before its fall had been marked by the
eagle eye of the master of ceremonies, who marched ahead with her
assistant.

When the box had been carefully deposited at one side of the "grave,"
Julia Crosby took her place beside it, and assuming a Daniel Webster
attitude began her address.

"Honored juniors and sophomores. We have met together to-day for a great
and noble purpose. We are about to take a step which will forever after
be recorded among the doughty deeds of Oakdale High School. It will go
down in High School history as the glorious inspiration of a master mind.
We are going to unfurl the banner of peace and bury the hatchet.

"Since the early days of our class history, war, cruel war, has raged
between the august bodies represented here to-day. On this very field many
moons ago the gallant sophomores advanced upon the, then, very fresh
freshmen, but retreated in wild confusion. It is therefore fitting that
this should be the place chosen for the burial of all grudges, jealousies
and unworthy emotions that formerly rent our breasts."

Here Julia paused to take breath.

The girls cheered wildly.

Julia bowed right and left, her hand over her heart. When the noise had
subsided, she continued. She bewailed junior misdeeds and professed meek
repentance. She dwelt upon the beauty of peace and she begged her hearers
henceforth to live with each other amicably.

It was a capital address, delivered in a mock-serious manner that provoked
mirth, and did more toward establishing general good feeling than any
other method she might have tried. In closing she said:

"The hatchet is the symbol of war. The wheat-sheaf represents our elderly
grudge; but the immortelles are the everlasting flowers of good will that
spring from the planting of these two. We will now listen to a few remarks
from the pride of the sophomore class, Assistant Master of Ceremonies
Grace Harlowe."

Grace attempted to speak, but received an ovation that made her flush and
laughingly put her hands over her ears. When she was finally allowed to
proceed, she delivered an oration as flowery as that of the master of
ceremonies.

When the cries of approbation evoked by Grace's oration had died away, it
was announced that the "renowned elocutionist," Miss Anne Pierson, would
recite a poem appropriate to the occasion. Anne accordingly recited "The
Bridge of Sighs," done over by Julia Crosby, and beginning:

"Take it up gingerly;
Handle with care;
'Tis a relic of sophomore
And junior warfare."

The intense feeling with which Anne rendered this touching effusion,
caused the master of ceremonies to sob audibly and lean so heavily upon
her assistant for support that that dignified person almost pitched head
first into the opening, and was saved from an ignominious tumble by one of
her attendants. This was too much for the others, who, forgetting the
solemnity of their office, shrieked with mirth, in which the spectators
were not slow to join.

"I think we had better wind up the ceremony," said Julia with great
dignity. "These people will soon be beyond our control."

The attendants managed to straighten their faces long enough to assist in
the concluding rites that were somewhat hastily performed, and the master
of ceremonies and her assistants held an impromptu reception on the spot.

"Now," said Julia Crosby, "we have done a good day's work for both
classes. I only hope that no prying freshmen hear of this. They will be
sure to come here and dig up what we have gone to such pains to bury. They
have no respect for their superiors. However, you have all behaved
yourselves with true High School spirit, and I wish to announce that you
will find a spread awaiting you around the corner of the Omnibus House."

There was a general hurrah at this statement, and the guests rushed off to
the spot designated.

Grace had held an earnest conference with old Jean, and the result showed
itself in the row of tables rudely constructed to fit the emergency. He
it was who had dug the "grave." He now sat on the steps waiting to build a
fire, over which Grace had planned to make coffee for the hungry girls
whose appetites had been whetted by the fresh air.

The money contributed by the classes had been used to good advantage by
Grace and Julia, and piles of tempting eatables gladdened the eyes of the
guests.

For the next half hour feasting was in order. Juniors and sophomores
shared cups; as the supply of these were limited. At the end of that time
the last crumb of food had disappeared and the girls stood in groups or
walked about the field, discussing the various features of school life.

Some one proposed playing old-fashioned games, and soon "puss in the
corner," "pom-pom-pull-away," and "prisoner's goal" were in full swing.

"This brings back one's Grammar School days, doesn't it?" said Nora to
Grace. They were deep in a game of prisoner's goal, and stood for a moment
waiting for the enemy to move toward them.

"I haven't had such a good, wholesale romp for ages," answered Grace, and
was off like the wind to intercept Eva Allen as she endeavored to make a
wide detour of their goal.

The hours slipped by on wings.

The start home was made about five o'clock. The juniors and sophomores
trooped back to Oakdale arm in arm, singing school songs and making the
welkin ring with their joyous laughter.

The people of Oakdale smiled at the procession of happy girls and wondered
what particular celebration was in order.

When the center of town was reached the party broke up with a great deal
of laughing and chattering, the girls going their separate ways in the
best of spirits.

"I've had a perfectly fine time," declared Grace, as she said good-bye to
her chums, "and how glad I am that we are all friends again."

She quite forgot when she made that statement that Miriam Nesbit had not
honored the reunion with her presence.




CHAPTER XVIII

AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR


One more excitement was to quicken the pulses of the sophomores before
they settled down to that long last period of study between Easter
holidays and vacation.

The great, decisive basketball game with the juniors was now to take
place.

Grace, in conclave with her team, had gone over her instructions for the
hundredth time. They had discussed the strong points of the juniors and
what were their own weak ones.

Miriam Nesbit was sullen at these meetings; but in the practice game she
had played with her usual agility and skill, so the girls felt that she
was far too valuable a member of the team for them to mind her humors.

"Everybody is coming to-morrow to see us play," exclaimed Nora in the
locker-room, at the recess on Friday. "I don't believe the President's
visit would create more excitement, really," she added with a touch of
pride.

"Did you know," interposed Anne, "that the upperclass girls are calling
Grace and Julia Crosby 'David and Jonathan'?"

This was also an amusing piece of news at which the other girls laughed
joyously. In fact, there was no such feeling of depression before this
game as had affected the class when the first game was played. The
sophomores were cheerful and confident, awaiting the great battle with
courage in their hearts.

"Be here early, girls," cautioned Grace, as they parted after school that
day. "Perhaps we may get in a little practice before the people begin to
come."

Grace hurried through her own dinner as fast as she could, on the eventful
Saturday.

"I shall be glad when this final game is over, child," exclaimed Mrs.
Harlowe anxiously, "I really think you have had more athletics this winter
than has been good for you, what with your walking, and skating, dancing,
and now basketball."

"You'll come, won't you, mother?" cried Grace, seizing her hat and rushing
off without listening to Mrs. Harlowe's comments. "We are sure to win,"
she called as she waved her a good-bye kiss.

There was no one in the school building when Grace got back; that is, no
one except the old janitress, who was sweeping down the corridor, as
usual. The other girls had not been so expeditious and Grace found the
locker-room deserted.

With trembling eagerness she was slipping on her gymnasium suit and
rubber-soled shoes, when she suddenly remembered that she had left her tie
in the geometry classroom. She had bought a new one the day before, placed
it in the back of her geometry and walked out of the classroom, leaving
book, tie and all behind.

"I'll run up and get it right away, before the others come," she said to
herself.

Running nimbly up the broad stairway, she entered the deserted classroom
and hurried down the aisle to the end of the room where she usually sat
during recitation.

"Here it is," she murmured, taking it out of the book and tying it on.
Then, sitting down at the desk, she rested her chin in her hands. The
quiet of the place was soothing to her excited nerves, and since it was so
early she would rest there for a moment and think.

Grace might have dreamed away five minutes when she heard the distant
sound of voices below.

"Dear me," she exclaimed, laughing, "they'll scold me for not being on
time. I must hurry." So she hastened up the aisle to the door, which was
shut, although she had not remembered closing it after her.

She turned the knob, still smiling to herself, but the door stuck fast. It
was locked!

Grace was so stunned that for a moment she hardly comprehended what had
happened. She sat down and tried to collect her thoughts. Locked up in an
upper classroom on the afternoon of the great game!

She tried the one other door in the room. It also was locked. As for the
great windows, they were too large for her to push up without a pole.

"I'll try calling," she said. "They may hear me."

But her calls were fruitless, and beating and knocking on the door panels
seemed nothing but muffled sounds in the stillness.

"Oh! Oh!" she cried, rushing wildly from doors to windows and back again.
"What shall I do! What shall I do?"

In the meantime, it was growing late. The sophomores had assembled and
were confidently waiting for their captain.

"She's late for the first time," observed one of the girls, "but we'll
forgive her under the circumstances."

"Maybe she's in the gymnasium," suggested Anne, hurrying off to look for
her friend. In spite of herself she felt some misgivings and she meant to
lose no time in finding her beloved Grace.

The gallery was already half full of people. Anne moved about looking for
David, or some one who could help her. Just then Mrs. Harlowe appeared at
the door.

"Where is Grace, Mrs. Harlowe?" Anne demanded eagerly.

"I don't know, dear," answered Mrs. Harlowe "She ate her dinner and went
off in such a hurry that I hardly had time to speak to her. She told me
she wanted to get back to meet the girls."

Anne ran back to the locker-room.

"Grace left home hours ago," she cried. "I just felt that something had
happened."

Jessica opened Grace's locker.

"Grace must be in the building," she exclaimed "Here are her clothes."

The girls began to rush about wildly, looking for their captain in the
various rooms on the basement floor.

In a few moments a junior came to the door.

"The game will be called in ten minutes," she said. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," answered Nora calmly. "Be careful," she whispered. "Don't let them
know yet."

Anne ran again to the gymnasium.

"I'll get David this time," she said to herself. "Something will have to
be done if Grace is to be found in time."

David was sitting at one side of the gallery with Reddy and Hippy.

He looked very grave when Anne whispered the news to him. The place was