ident Walker.

"Don't forget Latin versification at ten," Nance had cautioned her as
she left the sitting room a quarter before ten.

Molly had forgotten it and everything else except the matter in hand,
but the President's word was law and she prepared to obey and skip the
lecture.

The President was waiting for her in the little study. No one was about
and an ominous quiet pervaded the whole place.

"Sit down," said Miss Walker, without replying to Molly's greeting of
good morning. "So it's you, is it, who has been wandering about the
grounds at night in a gray dressing gown, scaring the students? I need
not tell you how disgusted and grieved I am, Miss Brown."

Molly turned as white as a sheet. She had never dreamed that Miss Walker
suspected her of being the campus ghost.

But she answered steadily:

"You are mistaken, Miss Walker. The ghost chased Nance and me the other
night when we were coming back from the village. We were really
frightened. I suppose it's some insane person."

"Then what were you doing on the campus at that hour, and where did you
get that ladder?"

Molly turned her wide blue eyes on the President with reproachful
protest, and Miss Walker suddenly looked down at the blotter on the
desk.

"Answer my question, Miss Brown," she asked more gently.

How could Molly explain without telling on

Judy, and yet did not that reckless, silly Judy deserve to be told on?

Suddenly two tears trickled down her cheeks. She let them roll unheeded
and clasped her hands convulsively in her lap.

"I insist on an answer to my question, Miss Brown," repeated the
President, without looking up. Molly pressed her lips together to keep
back the sobs.

"I never saw the ladder until a few minutes before you did," she
answered hoarsely. "I--oh, Miss Walker, you make it very hard," she
burst out suddenly, leaning on the table and burying her face in her
hands.

And then the most surprising thing happened. The President rose quickly
from her chair, hurried over to where Molly was sitting with bowed head
and drew the girl to her as tenderly as Molly's own mother might have
done.

"There, there, my darling child," she said soothingly. "I haven't the
heart to torture you any longer. I know, of course, that it was your
friend, Miss Kean, who was at the bottom of last night's performance,
and as usual you came down to help her when she fell. I only wanted you
to tell me exactly what you knew."

The truth i