"Come down to my room," begged Janet. "I have such a big couch and a whole raft may pile up on it." "That's a good idea," agreed Jane as the last towel was tossed into its basket. "Besides, we haven't a thing to eat in our quarters and what's a good yarn without grub? Land sakes, hear the crockery! We'll miss the hash, I fear me," and only the restraining influence of Miss Fairlie in the lower hall saved a third rail flight via ballustrades. Sweeping into the dining room Jane's eyes seemed attracted to a corner in freshmen's quarters. It might have been her excited imagination or pure incident, but she did look straight into the frightened blue eyes of little Sarah Howland. For the fraction of a second there was something like a clash. Jane's look was one of indignant question while the other unmistakably showed fear. Then Shirley Duncan said something to Sarah and the connection was severed. Hash may have been served or even real lamb chops, but no power of special dishes served to distract the students from their delicious excitement. "What in the world are you watching that door for?" Jane asked Dozia, who seemed hypnotized by a brass door knob. "Cops," replied Dozia cryptically. "I should hate to go out again tonight." "That's a fork," Winifred Ayres prompted Judith as the latter pierced her pretty sherbet with a prong. "I know," answered Judith, "but this mound is so pretty I don't want to spoil it at one gulp. A fork is daintier." "And leakier," finished the critic. Altogether the air was charged and surcharged with thrills, but it was Maud Leslie who broke the spell. "Jane," she whispered as they passed out, "don't forget tonight at Lenox. The girls are depending on you." "Tonight at Lenox, what for?" puzzled Jane. "Ghosts," said Maud. Then Jane remembered she had promised to raid the ghosts at Lenox Hall and to bring to the frightened freshmen a whole company of braves with their resistless reinforcements. And she had not yet been able to do a single thing about it!