rld but vaguely. Now here of a sudden a slur had been thrown at
three of her young world. John Cameron, it is true, was a comparative
stranger, and, of course, she had no means of judging except by the look
in his eyes. She understood in a general way that "rotten" as applied to
a young man's character implied uncleanness. John Cameron's eyes were
steady and clear. They did not look that way. But then, how could she
tell? And here, this very minute she had been hearing that Bobbie
Wetherill's life was not all that it should be and Wainwright had tacitly
accepted the possibility of the same weakness in himself. These were boys
with whom she had been brought up. Selfish and conceited she had often
thought them on occasion, but it had not occurred to her that there might
be anything worse. She pressed her hands to her eyes and tried to force a
calm steadiness into her soul. Somehow she had an utter distaste for
going back into that library and hearing their boastful chatter. Yet she
must go. She had been hoping all the afternoon for her cousin's arrival
to send the other two away. Now that was out of the question and she must
use her own tact to get pleasantly rid of them. With a sigh she opened
her door and started down stairs again.

It was Wainwright's blatant voice again that broke through the Sabbath
afternoon stillness of the house as she approached the library door:

"Yes, I've got John Cameron all right now!" he laughed. "He won't hold
his head so high after he's spent a few days in the guard-house. And
that's what they're all going to get that are late coming back this time.
I found out before I left camp that his pass only reads till eleven
o'clock and the five o'clock train is the last one he can leave Chester
on to get him to camp by eleven. So I hired a fellow that was coming up
to buddy-up to Cam and fix it that he is to get a friend of his to take
them over to Chester in time for the train. The fellow don't have to get
back himself to-night at all, but he isn't going to let on, you know, so
Cam will think they're in the same boat. Then they're going to have a
little bit of tire trouble, down in that lonely bit of rough road, that
short cut between here and Chester, where there aren't any cars passing
to help them out, and they'll miss the train at Chester. See? And then
the man will offer to take them on to camp in his car and they'll get
stuck again down beyond Wilmington, lose the road, and switch off towar