Emily took her departure, vowing undying gratitude to Hinpoha, and Hinpoha took her paints from her desk and went into her own club room, which was on the third floor, and with infinite pains matched the shade of the tree trunk and repaired the damage.  Her efforts were crowned with better success even than she had hoped for, and with thankfulness in her heart at the talent which could thus be turned to account to help a friend out of trouble, she surveyed the little painting, looking just as it did when loaned to the school.  She carried it carefully upstairs, but at the door of the exhibition room she paused in dismay.  A whole group of teachers and their friends were looking at the paintings and it was impossible to put the one back without being noticed.  Irresolutely she turned away and retraced her steps to the third floor, intending to wait in her club room until the coast was clear.  But alas!  In coming out Hinpoha had left the door open.  The club rooms were generally kept locked.  While she was going upstairs a number of students coming out from late practice in the gymnasium spied the open door and went in to look around.  It was impossible for Hinpoha to go in there with that picture in her hand.  The only thing to do if she did not wish to get into trouble, was to get rid of it immediately.  Delay was getting dangerous.  She was standing near the back entrance of the stage when she was looking for a place to hide the picture.  Beside the stage entrance there was a little room containing all the lighting switches for the stage, various battery boxes and other electrical equipment, together with a motley collection of stage properties.  Quick as a flash Hinpoha opened the door of this room, darted in and hid the picture in a roll of cheesecloth.  When she came out one of the teachers was standing directly before the door, pointing out to a friend the construction of the stage.

“Have we a new electrician?” he inquired genially, as he saw her coming out of the electric room.  Hinpoha laughed at his pleasantry, but she was flushed and uncomfortable from the excitement of the last moment.  Hinpoha was a poor dissembler.  She went upstairs until the art room was empty of visitors and then returned swiftly to the electric room for the picture.  She slipped it under her middy blouse, where it was safe from detection, and sped upstairs with it.  As she crossed the hall to the stairs she met the same teacher the second time.  “Well, you must be an electrician,” he said; “that’s twice you’ve rushed out of there in such a businesslike manner,” Hinpoha laughed, but flushed painfully.  It seemed to her that his eyes could look right through her middy and see the picture underneath.  This time the coast was clear in the room where the pictures were and she deposited the adventurous water color safely.  She heaved a great sigh of relief when she realized that the danger was over and she had nothing more to conceal.  She trudged home through the snow light-heartedly, with a warm feeling that she had been the means of saving a friend from disgrace.