d out. It was all the fault of her pals. They were always
disagreeing. They never worked together. They never exhibited good sense
in an emergency. Leslie decided that they should bear the blame for the
fiasco. They would hear from her in scathing terms when she felt equal
to upbraiding them.

She had been the first one to reach the front door. Feeling for the key,
which was in the lock, she had fumbled it and dropped it on the floor.
As she had stooped to pick it up, she had been knocked to her knees by
the onrush of the others. Callously, she had struck right and left for
room to get to her feet. The key had remained on the floor. Knowing that
she could not secure it until the wild onslaught on the door had
stopped, she had tried frantically to make herself heard above the
hub-bub. It was of no use.

Presently the panic-stricken Sans had begun to understand her
hoarsely-shouted words: "Stand still. The key's dropped to the floor."
By that time the wails of the invaders had ceased and their footsteps
had died out. An odd silence had suddenly descended upon the Sans. Very
meekly they had obeyed Leslie's rude order, "Get out of my way," as she
had turned on a small flashlight and located the key. The door opened
at last, not a word had been spoken as the dominoed procession filed out
into the starry night. Leslie had stepped out first. Stationing herself
on the veranda, she had counted them as they passed, to be sure none
were missing. "Save your talking until you get to the Hall," she had
curtly commanded. "Down the street and hustle for the campus. Keep
together."

Bruised and sore, the avengers had again obeyed her without much
protest. Dulcie Vale had attempted a belligerent remark but had been
promptly silenced by: "You had better keep still. You are the person who
claimed she locked the back door. If so, how, then, did that mob of
freaks get in? I don't believe they had a key."

Leslie had not condescended to speak again until they had reached the
Hall. At the foot of the drive she had halted her party and given them
further curt orders as to their manner of procedure. Her final
instruction had been: "Get ready for the dance, then come to my room.
Wear evening coats. It is too late for dominos now. The unmasking is
over long ago. If you're asked any questions simply say we had a dinner
engagement before the dance; that we thought it fun to dress in costume
but did not care to mask. Now remember, that _goes_."