ege and tell
everyone to keep quiet about it."

"She knows she is entirely in the wrong," said Marjorie sternly.
"Further, she has not told the truth. I am sure I would have heard a
horn if she had sounded one. She was certainly exceeding the speed
limit, and she did not keep her car to the proper side of the road. So
long as Katherine wishes the matter dropped, her wish is law in the
matter."

CHAPTER XIV.

A VOLUNTEER MESSENGER.

While the news of Katherine's injury soon spread about the college, it
was reported merely as one of those unintentional happenings for which
no one was actually culpable. The owners of cherished cars were canny
enough to realize that to capitalize the accident meant jeopardy to
their privileges. All knew that a certain important college for girls
had recently banned cars. None were anxious that Hamilton College should
find cause to do likewise.

There was one person, however, upon whose action no one had reckoned.
That particular person chanced to be Professor Wenderblatt. As a friend
of his daughter's and his most brilliant pupil, the professor cherished
a warm regard for Katherine. One of the freshmen in the car driven by
Harriet Stephens chanced to be a friend of Lillian's. The latter
received from her a fairly accurate account of the accident on the
following Monday. Nor did the freshman fail to place the blame where it
belonged.

Highly indignant, Lillian regaled her father with the news at dinner on
Monday evening, declaring that she thought something ought to be done to
make the Sans stop their reckless driving. Professor Wenderblatt, who
was bound by no ties of school-girl honor, decided to have a private
word on the subject with President Matthews. The fact that Katherine had
just missed having her back broken was serious enough in his belief to
warrant a reprimand from headquarters to the offenders.

Utterly unaware that she had a zealous, but an undesired defender,
Katherine returned to her classes after a two weeks' absence apparently
in good trim. With her re-appearance on the campus the Sans took heart
again. Leslie had not been summoned to the president's office. Nothing
had occurred to point to trouble from that direction.

The disastrous ending of the freshman picnic had dampened her ardor for
electioneering for a few days. Gradually it returned. Aided by Lola
Elster and Alida Burton, who were eager to please her, Leslie endeavored
again by means of lunche