ds, and I guess
she'd come out to show them off. They were brownish, kind of, and
she'd a spanking hat on with feathers and things in it. Her hair was
shining under it, all purply-black, and she looked sweet enough to
eat. Then she saw Ruggles and me and she waved her hand and laughed,
and her big blackish-blue eyes sparkled; but she hadn't been laughing
before, or sparkling either.

I'd thought she looked kind of glum, and I wondered if she and Micky
had had a falling out. I rather suspected it, for at the Senior Prom,
three nights before, she had hardly looked at Micky, but had sat in a
corner and talked to the Old Fellow. He didn't do much talking; he was
too shy, and he looked mighty uncomfortable. I thought it kind of mean
of Sylvia to torment him so, when she knew he hated to have to talk to
girls, but when I saw Micky scowling at the corner, I knew she was
doing it to make him jealous. Girls won't stick at anything when they
want to provoke a chap; I know it to my cost, for Jennie Price--but
that has nothing to do with this story.

Just across the square Sylvia met the Old Fellow and bowed. He lifted
his hat and passed on, but after a few steps he turned and looked
back; he caught Sylvia doing the same thing, so he wheeled and came
on, looking mighty foolish. As he passed beneath our window Ruggles
chuckled fiendishly.

"I've thought of something, Polly," he said--my name is Paul. "Bet you
it will make the Old Fellow squirm. Let's write a letter to Sylvia
Grant--a love letter--and sign the Old Fellow's name to it. She'll
give him a fearful snubbing, and we'll be revenged."

"But who'll write it?" I said doubtfully. "I can't. You'll have to,
Ruggles. You've had more practice."

Ruggles turned red. I know he writes to Em White in vacations.

"I'll do my best," he said, quite meekly. "That is, I'll compose it.
But you'll have to copy it. You can imitate the Old Fellow's
handwriting so well."

"But look here," I said, an uncomfortable idea striking me, "what
about Sylvia? Won't she feel kind of flattish when she finds out he
didn't write it? For of course he'll tell her. We haven't anything
against her, you know."

"Oh, Sylvia won't care," said Ruggles serenely. "She's the sort of
girl who can take a joke. I've seen her eyes shine over tricks we've
played on the professors before now. She'll just laugh. Besides, she
doesn't like the Old Fellow a bit. I know from the way she acts with
him. She's always so c