to fill the vacancies. As the Sans had been almost
the only juniors to try for the team, the committee had little choice in
the matter. Their appointment brought elation to their team mates and
Leslie Cairns. "Ramsey will soon put them in good trim," she exulted.
"Don't wait for those sulky freshies to challenge you. After the girls
have had a week's practice, challenge the sophs and set the date two
weeks away. That will give Dulcie and Nell plenty of time to learn the
ropes."

The Saturday following the disastrous game between freshmen and juniors
saw the freshmen actually tie their score with the sophs. According to
fans it was "one beautiful game" and the freshies left the floor vastly
inspirited after their defeat of the previous week. Meanwhile the
sophomores calmly awaited the junior challenge. They were better pleased
to have the junior team composed entirely of Sans. They would have a
quintette of the same stripe with which to deal.

Before the challenge came, however, the St. Valentine masquerade, the
yearly junior dance, given on February fourteenth, claimed attention. It
was, perhaps, the most enjoyed of any Hamilton festivity. What girl can
resist the lure of a bal masque? The socially inclined students often
went to great pains and expense in the way of costumes. Three prizes
were always offered; one for the funniest, one for the prettiest, and
one for the most generally pleasing costume.

"I don't know what to wear to the masquerade," Marjorie declared rather
dolefully. The Five Travelers were holding a meeting in hers and Jerry's
room. "I'm in despair."

"Go as a French doll," suggested Ronny. "I have a pale blue net frock
made over flesh-colored taffeta. It will be sweet for you. Shorten the
skirt and it will make a stunning French doll costume. I have heelless
blue dancing slippers to match."

"You're an angel. Isn't she, Jeremiah?" Marjorie became all animation.
"What are you going to wear, oh, generous fairy god-mother?"

"My butterfly costume. The one I danced in at the Sanford campfire."

"What are you going to mask as, Jeremiah," curiously inquired Lucy.
"Every time I see you I forget to ask you."

"I am going as an infant," giggled Jerry. "I shall wear a white lawn
frock, down to my heels, and one of those engaging baby bonnets. I shall
carry a rattle and a nursing bottle and wail occasionally to let folks
know I am around."

"I don't want to dress up, but I suppose I'll have to," grumb