Jane Allen: Right Guard

Edith Bancroft

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• Publié par: nuthig
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 25
• Langue: English

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Jane Allen: Right Guard, by Edith Bancroft This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Jane Allen: Right Guard Author: Edith Bancroft Release Date: August 9, 2006 [EBook #19015] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JANE ALLEN: RIGHT GUARD *** Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net Jane Allen: Right Guard Edith Bancroft Author of By Jane Allen of the Sub-Team THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY Akron, Ohio New York Copyright MCMXVIII THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY Jane Allen, Right Guard Made in the United States of America As Right Guard, Jane proved herself worthy of the position. Contents I II III IV DAY DREAMS A COUNCIL OF WAR BAD NEWS THE REASON WHY 1 11 17 27 V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII XVIII XIX XX XXI XXII XXIII XXIV XXV XXVI XXVII THE UNKNOWN MISCHIEF MAKER THE PLOT THICKENS AN UNPLEASANT TABLEMATE A HAPPY THOUGHT SEEKERS OF DISCORD A VAGUE REGRET REJECTED CAVALIERS NORMA'S "FIND" THE EXPLANATION OPENLY AND ABOVEBOARD THE RECKONING PLAYING CAVALIER THE EAVESDROPPER DIVIDING THE HONORS RANK INJUSTICE THE RISE OF THE FRESHMAN TEAM REINSTATEMENT MAKING OTHER PEOPLE HAPPY A NEW FRIEND THE LISTENER THE ACCUSATION THE STAR WITNESS CONCLUSION 34 42 51 63 72 82 91 101 111 122 132 140 151 157 167 182 197 210 224 241 258 273 299 Jane Allen: Right Guard 1 CHAPTER I DAY DREAMS "Come out of your day dream, Janie, and guess what I have for you." Hands behind him, Henry Allen stood looking amusedly down at his daughter. Stretched full length in a gaily striped hammock swung between two great trees, her gray eyes dreamily turned toward the distant mountain peaks, Jane Allen had not heard her father's noiseless approach over the closely clipped green lawn. At sound of his voice, she bobbed up from the hammock with an alacrity that left it swaying wildly. "Of course I was dreaming, Dad," she declared gaily, making an ineffectual grab at the hands he held behind him. "No fair using force," he warned, dexterously eluding her. "This is a guessing contest. Now which hand will you choose?" "Both hands, you mean thing!" laughed Jane. "I know what you have in one of them. It's a letter. Maybe two. Now stand and deliver." "Here you are." Obligingly obeying the imperative command, Mr. Allen handed Jane two letters. "Oh, joy! Here you are!" Jane enveloped her father in a bear-like hug, planting a resounding kiss on his sun-burnt cheek. "Having played postman, I suppose my next duty is to take myself off and leave my girl to her letters," was his affectionately smiling comment. "Not a bit of it, Dad. I'm dying to read these letters. They're from Judith Stearns and Adrienne Dupree. But even they must wait a little. I want to talk to you, my ownest Dad. Come and sit beside me on that bench." Slipping her arm within her father's, Jane gently towed him to a quaint rustic seat under a magnificent, wide-spreading oak. "Be seated," she playfully ordered. Next instant she was beside him on the bench, her russet head against his broad shoulder. "Well, girl of mine, what is it? You're not going to tell me, I hope, that you don't want to go back to college." Henry Allen humorously referred to another sunlit morning over a year ago when Jane had corralled him for a private talk that had been in the nature of a burst of passionate protest against going to college. "It's just a year ago yesterday, Dad," Jane returned soberly. "What a horrid person I was to make a fuss and spoil my birthday. But I was only sixteen, then. I'm seventeen years and one day old now. I'm ever so much wiser. It's funny but that is really what I wanted to talk to you about. Going back to Wellington, I mean. I want to go this time. Truly, I do." "I know it, Janie. I was only teasing you." Henry Allen smiled down very tenderly at his pretty daughter. "Of course you were," nodded Jane. "I knew, though, that you were thinking about last year, when I behaved like a savage. I was thinking of it, too, as I lay in the hammock looking off toward the mountains. Dear old Capitan never seemed so wonderful as it does to-day. Yet somehow, it doesn't hurt me to think of leaving it for a while. 3 2 4 "Last year I felt as though I was being torn up by the roots. This year I feel all comfy and contented and only a little bit sad. The sad part is leaving you and Aunt Mary. Still I'm glad to go back to Wellington. It's as though I had two homes. I wanted to tell you about it, Dad. To let you know that this year I'm going to try harder than ever to be a good pioneer." Raising her head, Jane suddenly sat very straight on the bench, her gray eyes alive with resolution. "You don't need to tell me that, Janie." Her father took one of Jane's slender white hands between his own strong brown ones. "You showed yourself a real pioneer freshman. They say the freshman year's always the hardest. I know mine was at Atherton. I was a poor boy, you know, and had to fight my way. Things were rather different then, though. There is more comradeship and less snobbishness in college than there used to be. That is, in colleges for boys. You're better posted than your old Dad about what they do and are in girls' colleges," he finished humorously. "Oh, there are a few snobs at Wellington." An unbidden frown rose to Jane's smooth forehead. Reference to snobbery brought up a vision of Marian Seaton's arrogant, self-satisfied features. "Most of the girls are splendid, though," she added, brightening. "You know how much I care for Judy, my roommate, and, oh, lots of others at Wellington. There's Dorothy Martin, in particular. She stands for all that is finest and best. You remember I've told you that she looks like Dearest." Jane's voice dropped on the last word. Silence fell upon the two as each thought of the beloved dead. "Dad, you don't know how much it helped me last year in college to have Dearest's picture with me," Jane finally said. "It was almost as if she were right there with me, her own self, and understood everything. I've never told you before, but there were a good many times when things went all wrong for me. There were some days when it seemed to me that I didn't want to try to be a pioneer. I wanted to pull up stakes and run away. I sha'n't feel that way this year. It will be so different. I'll walk into Madison Hall and be at home there from the start. I'll have friends there to welcome——" Jane's confidences were suddenly interrupted by the appearance of Pedro, the groom, leading Donabar, Mr. Allen's horse, along the drive. "I've got to leave you, girl." Mr. Allen rose. "I've an appointment with Gleason, to look at some cattle he wants to sell me. I'll see you at dinner to-night. Probably not before then." With a hasty kiss, dropped on the top of Jane's curly head, her father strode across the lawn to his horse. Swinging into the saddle, he was off down the drive, turning only to wave farewell to the white-clad girl on the beach. Left alone, Jane turned her attention to her letters. Those who have read "JANE ALLEN OF THE SUB-TEAM " will remember how bitterly Jane Allen resented leaving her beautiful Western home to go East to Wellington College. Brought up on a ranch, Jane had known few girls of her 5 6 own age. To be thus sent away from all she loved best and forced to endure the restrictions of a girls' college was a cross which proud Jane carried during the early part of her freshman year at Wellington. Gradually growing to like the girls she had formerly despised, Jane found friends, tried and true. Being a person of strong character she also made enemies, among them arrogant, snobbish Marian Seaton, a freshman of narrow soul and small honor. Due to her interest in basket-ball, Jane soon found herself fighting hard to win a position on the freshman team. She also found herself engaged in a desperate struggle to rule her own rebellious spirit. How she won the right to play in the deciding game of the year, because of her high resolve to be true to herself, has already been recorded in her doings as a freshman at Wellington College. "You first, Judy," murmured Jane, as she tore open the envelope containing Judith's letter and eagerly drew it forth. She smiled as she unfolded the one closely written sheet of thin, gray paper. Judith never wrote at length. The smile deepened as she read: "D EAR OLD JANE: "It's about time I answered your last letter. I hope to goodness this reaches you before you start East. Then you'll know I love you even if I am not a lightning correspondent. I just came home from the beach yesterday. I had a wonderful summer, but I'm tanned a beautiful brown. I am preparing you beforehand so that you will not mistake me for a noble red man, red woman, I mean, when you see me. "I'm dying to see my faithful roommate and talk my head off. I shall bring a whole bunch of eats along with me to Wellington and we'll have a grand celebration. Any small contributions which you may feel it your duty to drag along will be thankfully received. I'm going to start for college a week from next Tuesday. I suppose I'll be there ahead of you, so I'll have everything fixed up comfy when you poke your distinguished head in the door of our room. "I've loads of things to tell you, but I can't write them. You know how I love (not) to write letters, themes, etc. You'll just have to wait until we get together. If this letter shouldn't reach you before you leave El Capitan, you will probably get it some day after it has traveled around the country for a while. Won't that be nice? "With much love, hoping to see you soony soon, "Your affectionate roommate, "JUDY ." Jane laugh