“Something has come to my ears, girls,” said the principal, “that I find hard to credit, but before you leave here this afternoon I must know who is innocent and who is guilty.”

Miss Thompson paused and a number of girls stirred uneasily in their seats, while a few glanced quickly toward Eleanor, who was looking straight ahead, the picture of innocence.

“You all know,” continued the principal, “that it is strictly forbidden for any pupil to absent herself from school for the purpose of attending a circus, matinee or any public performance of this nature.  I have so severely disciplined pupils for this offence that for a long time no one has disobeyed me.  I was, therefore, astonished to learn that a number of girls, regardless of rules, have taken matters into their own hands and have decided to absent themselves from school to-morrow in order to attend the matinee to be given in the theatre.  Such a decision is worse than disobedience—­it is lawlessness.  Unless a severe example is made of the offenders, the standard of the school will be lowered.  Therefore, I intend to sift this matter to the bottom and find out what mischievous influence prompted this act of insubordination.

“Report says that this movement originated in the junior class, and that a paper has been circulated and signed by certain pupils, who pledged themselves to play truant and attend the matinee to-morrow.”

The eyes of Grace and her chums turned questioningly toward Mabel Allison, who nodded slightly in the affirmative.

So that was what all the whispering and mystery had meant.  Grace inwardly congratulated herself on having kept clear of the whole thing.  None of her friends were implicated, either.  Even Mabel had refused to sign.

“I have dismissed the senior class, because I have been assured of their entire ignorance of the plot.  What I insist upon knowing now, is who are the real culprits, beginning with the girl who originated the paper to the last one who signed it.  I am going to put every girl on her honor, and I expect absolutely truthful answers.  The girls who signed the paper I have mentioned will rise.”

There was a moment of suspense, then Eleanor Savell proudly rose from her seat.  Her example was followed, until two thirds of the girls present were standing.  The principal stood silently regarding them with an expression of severity that was decidedly discomfitting.

“That will do,” she said curtly, after they had stood for what seemed to them an age, but was really only a couple of minutes.

“You may be seated.  The girl who composed and wrote that agreement will now rise and explain herself.”

Without hesitating, Eleanor rose and regarded the principal with an insolent smile.  “I wrote it, Miss Thompson,” she said clearly.  “I wrote it because I wished to.  I am sorry you found out about it, because it has spoiled all our fun.”

There was a gasp of horror at Eleanor’s assertion.  No one had ever before spoken so disrespectfully to their revered principal.