smell the scorching varnish.
“Come back, Miss Belding!” commanded the teacher again.
But the girl thought she saw a chance to accomplish something. There was no use in waiting for the janitor to come to put out the flames if they could be quenched immediately. And no knowing how long before John would reach the room. He was not very spry.
Besides, to allow the fire to spread was both reckless and foolish. Laura saw just what should be done. She sprang into the room and passed the flames in a single swift dash.
She reached the window and seized the heavy bowl of water in which the gold fish swam. It was some weight for her, but she seized it firmly with both arms, and staggered toward the burning basket.
The smoke was drawn away for a moment by the draught of an opening door and she heard Miss Carrington scream again. But Laura shut both her eyes tight and staggered on.
Her foot tripped on the edge of the rug, she felt the blast of fire in her face, and then she overturned the full globe, fish and all, upon the flames!
With a great hiss of steam, which rose in her face in a cloud, the water struck the burning basket and the rug. There was enough water to saturate the place where the fire had been burning the most briskly. Not every spark was put out with this dash of water; but it took but a minute to stamp out the remainder when the steam cleared away.
But the poor fish! All four lay dead upon the floor, either trampled upon, or scorched by the flames.
“You are a very strong young girl, Miss Belding,” said Mrs. Case, hurrying in. “And a quick witted one.”
Laura was thinking that it was the second fire she had put out that day!
Miss Carrington was still sputtering. She called Laura “a dear, good girl – so bright and quick-witted!” And on the other hand she scolded about Bobby Hargrew until one would have thought poor Bobby was a monster of wickedness.
“Never mind the poor fish, Miss Agnew,” cried the teacher, as the doctor’s tender hearted daughter expressed her sorrow over the fate of those pretty creatures. “More fish can be bought – plenty more. And here is the rug ruined – and Mr. Sharp’s desk injured. But it shall be paid for – yes, indeed! Clara Hargrew’s father shall settle the bill. And Miss Clara shall pay for it, too. Careless, reckless girl!”
“Oh, but Miss Carrington!” cried Laura. “Perhaps she didn’t do it.”
“Who could have done it, then?” demanded Gee Gee, almost tempted to be angry with Laura for trying to defend the culprit.
“But nobody saw her – ”
“I do not say she deliberately set the fire,” said Miss Carrington, angrily. “But she had the lighted punk. Naturally she tossed it thoughtlessly into the basket. Behold the result!” finished Gee Gee, so dramatically that her glasses hopped off her nose.
“Oh, I can’t believe Bobby would have done so careless a thing,” murmured Laura in the ear of her chum, Jess Morse, who appeared at this juncture.
“But who else could be guilty?” demanded Jess, convinced against her own will.
“It will just about finish Bobby for this half,” groaned Laura.
“I should say it would!” returned Jess, as Mrs. Case called them back to their seats, while old John, who had now arrived, remained to clean up the debris.
The excitement had come very near breaking up the meeting. And it was some time before the athletic instructor could obtain the undivided attention of the girls.
The meeting was advanced far enough for a committee to be appointed to report on constitution, by-laws, and the like, and the government of the new organization. It was the intention of those backing the organization that the girls of Central High should govern their athletics as much as possible themselves. Too much interference by the faculty always spoils a school society.
Laura Belding and her chum were both appointed on this committee; and Hester Grimes and her friend Lily were likewise members. The committee was to report in a week, and Mrs. Case was to meet with them and advise them.
Miss Carrington burst out in her tirade upon the absent Clara Hargrew just as soon as the meeting was closed. She said to Mrs. Case:
“One of my pupils you cannot have in your association, Mrs. Case! I shall veto Miss Hargrew’s entering into any sports, or taking any ‘extras,’ during the remainder of this term. And I shall take up the matter with the principal, too. I am not at all convinced in my mind that for such an offense a girl of her age should not be suspended.”
“Why, don’t you suppose it was entirely an accident, Miss Carrington?” asked the athletic instructor, doubtfully.
“I don’t know whether it could be called wholly an accident. I shall look into it very closely,” said the other teacher, shaking her head and biting her lips.
“Poor Bobby!” repeated Laura Belding to her chum, as they went out of the school building. “She is so enthusiastic over games and athletics, too. It will be dreadful deprivation for her.”
“Do you suppose she really threw that burning punk into the papers?” asked Jess.
“Why – I suppose so. Of course, she’ll be given a chance to say whether she did or not. But how else could the fire have started?”
But Miss Morse had no answer to make to that.
CHAPTER V – WHOM DO YOU BELIEVE?
The Beldings lived in a nice house on Whiffle Street, with quite a big plot of ground about it – room for a lawn in front, a tennis court at the side, and a garden in the rear, out of which a rustic gate opened into the street where the Hargrews lived. Mr. Belding owned the house and, with his business as jeweler, was considered, as fortunes went in Centerport, a wealthy man. But the family lived with old-fashioned simplicity.
Mrs. Belding was, Laura knew, just the dearest mother who ever lived; yet she had been brought up as a girl in a country community, had never had interests any broader than her own home while her children were small, and now that Laura and Chetwood were almost “grown up” – or, at least, felt they were – Mother Belding scarcely understood their plans and aspirations. The new organization was “too much” for her, as she frequently said.
“Why, how ridiculous!” Mrs. Belding once said, upon coming home from a shopping tour. “They show me exactly the same style of garment both for Laura and myself. No difference save the size, I declare! And at Laura’s age I had not even begun to put my hair up, and my skirts had not been lengthened.”
“Changes – changes! Don’t let them worry you, Mother,” said her husband, comfortably.
“Well, Milly and Frank are left us, anyway – they’re still children,” sighed the troubled lady. “But I must admit that Laura and Chet are too much for me!”
Not that either of her older children gave her real cause for worriment or complaint. Chet was his father’s chum and confidant; he could not go far wrong under such guidance. And Laura was a very sweet tempered and practical girl. Indeed, it was Laura’s shrewd outlook upon and her keen appreciation of things that had never entered her mother’s mind as a girl, that so startled Mrs. Belding.
At
