“Lucile would say, if she could see me now, that I fell purposely,” thought Patricia, adjusting the gay little hat with shaking fingers. Then an awful thought occurred to her. Maybe these men thought the same thing! People resorted to all kinds of tricks to meet celebrities, and Jack Dunn’s acquaintanceship was much sought after.
“I don’t know how I happened to fall,” she said, trying to laugh. “I’m not usually so careless.”
“There were some wet leaves on one of the steps,” explained her rescuer, bending his head protectively over her.
It was a fine shaped head, topped by wavy brown hair flung back from a broad, very white forehead. The hands on her arm were shapely, and the fingers long and slender. A thoroughbred, thought Patricia.
“If you’ll tell me where you were going,” he continued, motioning his companions peremptorily away, “I’ll walk along with you.”
“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you further,” protested Patricia. “I’m quite all right now.”
“You’re shaking like a leaf,” contradicted her escort gently, falling into step beside her, as they started across the campus. “Let’s sit down over there a while,” he added, as they approached a stone bench under a tree near the Fine Arts Building; “or have you a class now?”
“No, not until three-thirty.”
“What year are you?” he began, as soon as they were seated. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”
“I’m a Sophomore, and my name, by the way, is Patricia Randall.”
“Mine is Jack Dunn,” said the boy, as simply as if his name were not known the length and breadth of the campus.
“I’m afraid you are not very observing,” remarked Patricia.
“Why?”
“Because we are in the same Shakespeare class, and have been all this term.”
“Oh, well, we’re seated alphabetically. I’m down in the front of the room, and you must be in the back. So that lets me out.”
Three-thirty arrived long before they finished exchanging personal bits of information, and Jack left Patricia at the door of her classroom with a promise to see her again very soon.
“How in the world did you get hold of him?” whispered Jane excitedly, as Patricia took her seat.
“Tell you later,” promised Patricia, as Professor Yates glanced in their direction.
After the class was over, the girls managed to get away from the rest of the crowd; so, as they walked slowly across the campus, Patricia told the story of the fall and its consequences.
“You’re a lucky girl!” sighed Jane, as she finished.
“To have broken no bones?” inquired Patricia innocently.
“Yes, just that,” replied her companion, with exaggerated emphasis. “Broken hearts not taken into account.”
“I suppose the girls will razz the life out of me,” commented Patricia, after a short pause.
“Don’t tell them anything about it, then. I shan’t mention it.”
“But suppose some of them saw us together?”
“That’s all right. If they don’t know how you met him, it will give them something to think about.”
That evening Patricia was keenly aware of curious eyes fixed upon her as she stood in front of Arnold Hall talking to Jack Dunn. He had stepped up to her just as she was following Jane and Anne to the post office after dinner. The girls obligingly hurried on and left the two together, but Patricia’s cheeks were red with the knowledge that they were talking about her as they went back to the dorm.
“I was wondering if you’d go to see Arliss with me,” began Jack. “He’s on at the Plaza, and we’d be just in time for the early performance.”
“I should like to see it,” replied Patricia slowly; “but—yes, I’ll go. I’m pretty sure Jane will sign the Black Book for me if I don’t go in.”
“The Black Book?” repeated Jack in puzzled tones.
As they started downtown, Patricia told him all about the Arnold Hall customs and rules, and answered his questions regarding the identity of several of the Alley Gang.
“You see,” he said, “I don’t know many of the girls here; for I came only this year, transferred from Floynton University—”
“And I from Brentwood,” interrupted Patricia. “Isn’t that funny?”
“We ought to be friends, then, both strangers in a strange land. Shall we?”
“I don’t mind.”
After leaving the movie, they strolled slowly back to College Hill, chatting as if they had known each other always.
“Will you come in?” asked Patricia, as they reached Arnold Hall.
“Like to, but you see I’m in training and not supposed to be out too late; besides I have some boning to do yet.”
“I don’t see when you ever get any studying done; you’re in classes all morning as well as part of the afternoon, and on the athletic field until dark.”
“It doesn’t leave me much time, and I’ve just got to make good here.”
“You mean in order to keep on the team?”
“Of course; but there’s another reason too. You see, my dad isn’t well enough off to send me to Granard himself; and, well, when you’re indebted to somebody else for a big chance, why, you’ve just got to make good.”
“I know just how that is; for I’m in the same position myself,” replied Patricia impulsively.
“You are?” questioned Jack. “Then you would understand.”
“Good evening,” said a smooth, low voice behind them, and they turned to face Norman Young.
“How are you?” replied Jack briefly, while Patricia murmured a response to the newcomer’s greeting.
“Clarice in?” queried Norman as he turned and went up the walk toward the house.
“I don’t know,” replied Patricia.
“I don’t like that fellow,” observed Jack, as the door closed upon Young.
“You don’t? Why?”
“Queer acting guy. Never caught him in anything; in fact I don’t know him very well, but I don’t trust him. Comes out and sits on the side lines to watch practice quite often, and he gives me the jitters. You know him well?”
“No, I don’t. I was introduced
