Ruth Fielding At College: or, The Missing Examination Papers. Emerson Alice B.
and very valuable. Pay for it, indeed! Those Kappa Alphas, as well as the other sororities, are paying for their fun in another way."
"But, anyway," said the quiet girl, "it was a terrible experience for Miss Rolff."
"Unless she 'put it on' and got away with the loot herself," said Edith.
"Oh, scissors! now who's coarse?" demanded May MacGreggor.
But the conversation came back to the expected Ruth Fielding. These girls had all arrived at Ardmore several days in advance of the opening of the semester. Indeed, it is always advisable for freshmen, especially, to be on hand at least two days before the opening, for there is much preparation for newcomers.
The fleshy girl who had thus far taken no part in the conversation recorded, save to be amused by it, had already been on the ground long enough to know her way about. But she was not yet acquainted with any of her classmates or with the sophomores.
If she knew Ruth Fielding, she said nothing about it when Edith Phelps began to discuss the girl of the Red Mill again.
"Miss Cullam spoke to me about this Fielding. It seems she has an acquaintance who teaches at that backwoods' school the child went to – "
"Briarwood a backwoods' school!" said May. "Not much!"
"Well, it's somewhere up in New York State among the yaps," declared Edith. "And Cullam's friend wrote her that Fielding is a wonder. Dear me! how I do abominate wonders."
"Perhaps we are maligning the girl," said Dora. "Perhaps Ruth Fielding is quite modest."
"What? After writing a moving picture drama? Is there anything modest about the motion picture business in any of its branches?"
"Oh, dear me, Edie!" cried one of her listeners, "you're dreadful."
"I presume this canned drama authoress," pursued Edith, "will have ink-stains on her fingers and her hair will be eternally flying about her careworn features. Well! and what are you laughing at?" she suddenly and tartly demanded of the plump girl in the background.
"At you," chuckled the stranger.
"Am I so funny to look at?"
"No. But you are the funniest-talking girl I ever listened to. Let me laugh, won't you?"
Before this observation could be more particularly inquired into, some one shouted:
"Oh, look who's here! And in style, bless us!"
"And see the freight! Excess baggage, for a fact," May MacGreggor said, under her breath. "Who can she be?"
"The Queen of Sheba in all her glory had nothing on this lady," cried Edith with conviction.
It was not often that any of the Ardmore girls, and especially a freshman, arrived during the opening week of the term in a private equipage. This car that came chugging down the hill to the entrance of Dare Hall was a very fine touring automobile. The girl in the tonneau, barricaded with a huge trunk and several bags, besides a huge leather hat-box perched beside the chauffeur, was very gaily appareled as well.
"Goodness! look at the labels on that trunk," whispered Dora Parton. "Why, that girl must have been all over Europe."
"The trunk has, at any rate," chuckled May.
"Hist!" now came from the excited Edith Phelps. "See the initials, 'R. F.' What did I tell you? It is that Fielding girl!"
"Oh, my aunt!" groaned the plump girl in the background, and she actually had to stuff her handkerchief in her mouth to keep from laughing outright again.
The car had halted and the chauffeur got down promptly, for he had to remove some of the "excess baggage" before the girl in the tonneau could alight.
"I guess she must think she belongs here," whispered Dora.
"More likely she thinks she owns the whole place," snapped Edith, who had evidently made up her mind not to like the new girl whose baggage was marked "R. F."
The girl got out and shook out her draperies. A close inspection would have revealed the fact that, although dressed in the very height of fashion (whatever that may mean), the materials of which the stranger's costume were made were rather cheap.
"This is Dare Hall, isn't it?" she asked the group of girls above her on the porch. "I suppose there is a porter to help – er – the man with my baggage?"
"It is a rule of the college," said Edith, promptly, "that each girl shall carry her own baggage to her room. No male person is allowed within the dormitory building."
There was a chorused, if whispered, "Oh!" from the other girls, and the newcomer looked at Edith, suspiciously.
"I guess you are spoofing me, aren't you?" she inquired.
"Help! help!" murmured May MacGreggor. "That's the very latest English slang."
"She's brought it direct from 'dear ol' Lunnon'," gasped one of the other sophomores.
"Dear me!" said Edith, addressing her friends, "wouldn't it be nice to have a 'close up' taken of that heap of luggage? It really needs a camera man and a director to make this arrival a success."
The girl who had just come looked very much puzzled. The chauffeur seemed eager to be gone.
"If I can't help take in the boxes, Miss, I might as well be going," he said to the new arrival.
"Very well," she rejoined, stiffly, and opening her purse gave him a bill. He lifted his cap, entered the car, touched the starter and in a moment the car whisked away.
"I declare!" said May MacGreggor, "she looks just like a castaway on the shore of a desert island, with all the salvage she has been able to recover from the wreck."
And perhaps the mysterious R. F. felt a good deal that way.
CHAPTER IV
FIRST IMPRESSIONS
Greenburg was the station on the N. Y. F. & B. Railroad nearest to Ardmore College. It was a small city of some thirty or forty thousand inhabitants. The people, not alone in the city but in the surrounding country, were a rather wealthy class. Ardmore was a mile from the outskirts of the town.
Ruth Fielding and Helen Cameron, her chum, had arrived with other girls bound for the college on the noon train. Of course, the chums knew none of their fellow pupils by name, but it was easily seen which of those alighting from the train were bound for Ardmore.
There were two large auto-stages in waiting, and Ruth and Helen followed the crowd of girls briskly getting aboard the buses. As they saw other girls do, the two chums from Cheslow gave their trunk checks to a man on the platform, but they clung to their hand-baggage.
"Such a nice looking lot of girls," murmured Helen in Ruth's ear. "It's fine! I'm sure we shall have a delightful time at college, Ruthie."
"And some hard work," observed Ruth, laughing, "if we expect to keep up with them. There are no dunces in this crowd, my dear."
"Goodness, no!" agreed her friend. "They all look as sharp as needles."
There were girls of all the classes at the station, as was easily seen. Ruth and Helen chanced to get into a seat with two of the seniors, who seemed most awfully sophisticated to the recent graduates of Briarwood Hall.
"You are just entering, are you not – you and your friend?" asked the nearest senior of Ruth.
"Yes," admitted the girl of the Red Mill, feeling and looking very shy.
The young women smiled quietly, saying:
"I am Miss Dexter, and am beginning my senior year. I am glad to be the first to welcome you to Ardmore."
"Thank you so much!" Ruth said, recovering her self-possession. Then she told Miss Dexter her own name and introduced Helen.
"You girls have drawn your room numbers, I presume?"
"They were drawn for us," Ruth said. "We are to be in Dare Hall and hope to have adjoining rooms."
"That is nice," said Miss Dexter. "It is so much pleasanter when two friends