“But can’t you see that the town will take this as proof of the charges?”

“We’re—­not—­making—­no—­charges—­whatever!” Sam was obviously finding it hard to be patient.

Fern left town that evening.

Carol went with her to the train.  The two girls elbowed through a silent lip-licking crowd.  Carol tried to stare them down but in face of the impishness of the boys and the bovine gaping of the men, she was embarrassed.  Fern did not glance at them.  Carol felt her arm tremble, though she was tearless, listless, plodding.  She squeezed Carol’s hand, said something unintelligible, stumbled up into the vestibule.

Carol remembered that Miles Bjornstam had also taken a train.  What would be the scene at the station when she herself took departure?

She walked up-town behind two strangers.

One of them was giggling, “See that good-looking wench that got on here?  The swell kid with the small black hat?  She’s some charmer!  I was here yesterday, before my jump to Ojibway Falls, and I heard all about her.  Seems she was a teacher, but she certainly was a high-roller—­O boy!—­high, wide, and fancy!  Her and couple of other skirts bought a whole case of whisky and went on a tear, and one night, darned if this bunch of cradle-robbers didn’t get hold of some young kids, just small boys, and they all got lit up like a White Way, and went out to a roughneck dance, and they say——­”

The narrator turned, saw a woman near and, not being a common person nor a coarse workman but a clever salesman and a householder, lowered his voice for the rest of the tale.  During it the other man laughed hoarsely.

Carol turned off on a side-street.

She passed Cy Bogart.  He was humorously narrating some achievement to a group which included Nat Hicks, Del Snafflin, Bert Tybee the bartender, and A. Tennyson O’Hearn the shyster lawyer.  They were men far older than Cy but they accepted him as one of their own, and encouraged him to go on.

It was a week before she received from Fern a letter of which this was a part: 

. . . & of course my family did not really believe the story but as they were sure I must have done something wrong they just lectured me generally, in fact jawed me till I have gone to live at a boarding house.  The teachers’ agencies must know the story, man at one almost slammed the door in my face when I went to ask about a job, & at another the woman in charge was beastly.  Don’t know what I will do.  Don’t seem to feel very well.  May marry a fellow that’s in love with me but he’s so stupid that he makes me scream.

Dear Mrs. Kennicott you were the only one that believed me.  I guess it’s a joke on me, I was such a simp, I felt quite heroic while I was driving the buggy back that night & keeping Cy away from me.  I guess I expected the people in Gopher Prairie to admire me.  I did use to be admired for my athletics at the U.—­just five months ago.