E-text prepared by Roger Frank and Sue Clark
BETTY LEE, JUNIOR
by
HARRIET PYNE GROVE
The World Syndicate Publishing Co.Cleveland, Ohio--New York City
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright, 1931The World Syndicate Publishing Co.
Printed in the United States of America
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS
I A JUNIOR AT "PEP ASSEMBLY" II "GOLDEN BETTY" III LITTLE FLIES IN THE OINTMENT IV BASKETS AND HUMBLE FRIENDS V LUCIA DRESSES A DOLL VI LUCIA'S CONFIDENCES VII LYON "Y" AND A COUNTESS VIII DORIS NEEDS A SISTER IX MYSTERIES, PREPARATIONS AND A "TRADE-LAST" X CAROLS XI GIVING UP A PLEASANT HONOR XII COULD BETTY BE STUBBORN? XIII THE FAMILY MAKES REMARKS XIV AN ANNOYING CALL XV THE FATEFUL BIRTHDAY PARTY XVI AN UNHAPPY INTERVIEW XVII CONCLUSIONS XVIII A HAPPY DISCOVERY XIX BETTY SEES "X" SURPRISED
------------------------------------------------------------------------
BETTY LEE, JUNIOR
CHAPTER I
A JUNIOR AT "PEP ASSEMBLY"
"Clash, Bim-bang!"
"Toot-toot," high! "Toot-toot," low!
"Tooral-looral-loo-oo-oo-oo," up the scale,"tooral-looral-loo-oo-oo-oo," down the scale.
"R-r-r-boom!"
Cymbals clashed; horns tooted; scales mounted or fell; bits of populartunes were tried, and drums occasionally rolled; for Lyon High band wason the platform, in almost full force. All were in uniform and gatheredfor the greatest Pep Assembly of the year, which would begin when theproper gongs were sounded.
Betty Lee, junior, opening the door of the auditorium, smiled broadly atthe sight. Ordinarily Betty would have been in her home room with therest, waiting for the signals; but she had been sent by her home roomteacher on an errand to the office. And on her arrival there, theprincipal had appeared from his inner office as her message was beingdelivered to one of the office force.
Looking around for some one who was not busy, he recognized Betty'spresence with a smile. "Betty," said he--and Betty was proud that heknew her well enough to address her by her first name--"will you pleasestep to the auditorium and see if the band leader has arrived? If so,tell him that I should like to see him a moment before the assembly."
Armed with this authority, Betty Lee was now invading the present domainof boydom, while the band gathered and practiced after this noisy andirregular fashion. It was fun for everybody and Betty enjoyed herunusual privilege. She hesitated inside of the central door, which shehad entered, then walked forward as far as the back row of seats, whileshe scanned the platform to see if the young man who trained the bandhad yet come in. She could not see him. There were the rows of chairs,arranged across the stage, the two central rows facing each other. Theboys were getting their music in order, putting it upon the standards infront of them, or just sitting down to try out their instruments. Betty,the assured junior now, knew personally many of the band members, andthe names of most of the others.
As she waited, not seeing the person she sought, the door behind herflew open to admit a hurrying boy, Chet Dorrance, a senior now and stilla good friend of Betty's. He stopped in his mad haste to speak to her."'Lo, Betty, how's this? Going to lead the band this morning?"
"Of course," laughingly replied Betty. "I'm glad you came along, Chet.The principal wants to see the band leader and sent me to tell him--notthe drum-major, you know, but Mr.--What's-his-name." Betty lifted herpretty chin a moment.
"You see I'm all fussed, Chet, over such an errand."
"Yes--you--are!"
"Well, I do hate to go up there to find him, though I thought I mightget him from the wings. But would you mind telling him for me, if hecomes in pretty soon? It might be possible that he would stop in theoffice, and I'll go back there to see if it's necessary."
Chet nodded at the explanation. "Sure I'll tell him. There he comesnow," and Chet indicated a young man who came from the side to thecenter of the platform. Then, on a trot, Chet traversed the length ofthe big auditorium to the steps at its side which led into the wings.Betty waited a few moments, to make sure that he really would deliverthe message. There he was, motioning back to her as he spoke briefly.With a high salute Chet grinned back at her and sought his horn, whilethe band leader hurried from the platform, down the side aisle and outat the nearest door into the hall.
"Clash, bing, bang, tooral-looral"--how funny it was! And with aterrific swing of another of the double doors that admitted pupils andteachers into the auditorium, a tall, long-legged senior tore into theroom, ran on the double-quick up the aisle nearest, buttoning the coatof his uniform as he went, crossed the stage at the rear, and in anunbelievably short time lugged in the biggest horn of all, shining inits brazen glory.
Betty, still grinning at this latest arrival's performances, turned toleave just in time to come face to face with another boy, a junior thistime, Mickey Carlin, who was carrying a cornet.
"You saved yourself by turning around, Betty," said the youth usuallyaddressed by the boys as "Irish." "I was just going to set off a fewgentle blasts behind you to see how much you love real music. Going tojoin the band?"
"Certainly," replied Betty as she threw up her hands in pretended horrorat Mickey's cornet and statement. "I had to deliver a message for theprincipal--honestly," she added, as Mickey made a face which indicatedsome doubt of her veracity. But Betty was smiling. "I've got to fly nowbefore the gong rings."
Betty, too, joined the ranks of the hurried, as she went back to herhome room to report the result of her errand and to explain the lengthof her absence from the room. The "adorable Miss Heath" was her homeroom teacher this year and she would believe her truthful. It was such acomfortable feeling to be under a teacher who trusted you and to whomyou were "making good." Betty would have been "boiled in oil," shedeclared, before she would take advantage of Miss Heath's confidence.She did feel a little guilty, however, because she had not hurried toleave the auditorium. Those killing boys! And Betty was proud of theLyon High band, nearly fifty pieces, and "playing like professionalmusicians" under their instructor and leader, as one optimistic articlein the school paper had declared. She gave a little skip as she thoughtof it, but slowed her step to enter her home room sedately.
Dotty Bradshaw, the same old Dotty, made big eyes at her, pretending tolook shocked. Carolyn Gwynne, darling, precious Carolyn, still Betty'sdearest among the girls, scarcely excepting Kathryn Allen, gave Betty ademure look as she passed in front of her desk to report to Miss Heath.As Betty and Carolyn sat on front seats, across the aisle from eachother, Carolyn could hear everything that Betty said, though her tonewas low as she talked to Miss Heath.
"I'd been wondering what had become of you," said Carolyn, when in a fewminutes the girls of the home room were in semi-order on their way tothe auditorium.
"It was fine to 'traverse these sacred halls' just like a teacher. O,Carolyn, I've something to show you. Don't let me forget it. I broughtit along so Doris or Dick wouldn't get hold of it. I'm always forgettingand leaving things about and I can't blame Dodie for looking at them andasking questions. But you do hate to have _everything_ talked over inthe family! I really suppose you'll have grounds for thinking that I'mnot in good taste to show it to you but I have to talk it over withsomebody!"
"How flattering that you choose me!"
mischievously remarked Carolyn.
"Shush! You know I always tell you things that I can tell anybody."
"I'm consumed with curiosity. What can it be?"
"Do you remember the Don?"
"Oh, yes. You had him at your house one Thanksgiving--our freshman year.Your father had invited him or something."
"Yes. You know that he just disappeared suddenly and nobody knew whathad become of him after school was out. He was supposed to be going onwith his education and he was such a wonder all year in athletics.Father missed him from the garage, where he worked and inquired, butnever heard. He had intended to go on with his education. Well, I had aletter from him and that is what I want to show you. He doesn't explainat all, but he sends regards to his friends and asks if he cancome--call to see us."
"Ah, Betty, I shall have to look at that letter!"
"Oh, it's all right, a very proper letter. I showed it to Mother andFather, of course, for Father was speaking of Ramon Balinsky just theother day. I'll tell the girls and boys, some of them, and give Ramon'smessage, but I just can't show the letter, for there's one bit of itthat's a little personal, written in his foreign way. Would it be allright, do you think, if I only said that 'we' heard from the Don andthat he is all right and sends greetings to all his high schoolfriends?"
"Why not? People usually do say 'we,' no matter who got the letter, whenit is a sort of family friend. You have a terrible conscience, BettyLee."
"No worse than yours, Carolyn Gwynne," returned Betty with a littlelaugh, suited to this private conversation, which was rather hard tocarry on as they walked. "Anyhow, Mother says that if you can't trustpeople to be truthful, you can't trust them at all."
"True enough. But you don't have to tell _all_ you know to folks thatare just plain curious! Still, how would it do to tell Kathryn, and haveher tell Chauncey; and by that time it would be that 'the Lees' had hadword about Ramon and he was sending his best regards or something toeverybody that remembered him?"
"Smart girl! I knew you'd think of something!"
Kathryn, coming up behind them, asked at this instant "Why thismerriment?" but it was a very quiet bit of laughter that she interruptedand there they were at the door of the auditorium.
The girls made their way to the junior section, where Betty usually satbetween Carolyn and Kathryn. The band was playing a lively air by way ofescort. Some of the pupils were humming a little with the band andothers were talking, though by general consent manners were such ascontrol the usual crowd. They might not have been so good, it is true,had the pupils not known that the principal would tolerate no nonsense;and no one wanted to miss any assemblies, to pass the time in study, orto be sent home.
Lucia Coletti, still in America, still in Lyon High, sat directly infront of Betty and next to Peggy Pollard, who, it may be remembered, hadjoined the sorority, the "Kappa Upsilons," to which Carolyn and Bettyhad been invited. Lucia (pronounced Lu-_chee_-a, in Italian fashion),looked back, as she pulled down the seat of her chair, and gave thegirls a salute, very brief, but Dotty Bradshaw, near by, rather daringlyasked, "is that a Fascisti salute, Lucia?"
"It's a mixture, like me," replied Lucia, not offended, her black eyesflashing an amused glance at Betty. "Listen, Betty," she said. "I wantto see you some time today. I want you to help me out on something."
"All right," said Betty.
But the principal was now standing quietly on the platform, as was hiscustom, his very presence a check upon too vociferous converse. Heclapped his hands together several times for quiet. Instantly thetalking began to subside, then stopped as the attention of all wassecured. All faces turned to the American flag, which stood in silkenbeauty of red, white and blue at the side of the platform. In the dailylesson of patriotism, pupils and teachers, led by the principal inclear, unhurried accents, repeated the pledge to the flag and country.
Lucia, half American, half Italian, probably born in some other foreigncountry, Betty thought, gave the salute with the rest, "out ofcourtesy," she had told the girls. It was her mother's flag, she said.Her father had another, and as for her she was going to _choose_ hercountry!
But Lucia, bright and interesting, very much alive to all the highschool and city life, was possibly arriving at a better appreciation ofsome phases of America and its opportunities than some of the girls ofAmerican birth, and from the very difference of environment and customs.
Lucia Coletti was adding to some old-world advantages, and to her earlyeducation in Europe, what America had to offer. Betty was both surprisedand pleased with the Lucia Coletti who was a junior. And Lucia, in spiteof the sorority circle and many other young friends in the circle inwhich her countess mother and wealthy uncle moved, still had a highregard for Betty Lee, her first helpful acquaintance; for she consideredBetty's leadership a safe one, whenever independent Lucia needed orwanted any counsel.
"Let us improve the manner of our entrance into the auditorium," theprincipal was saying. "I should like to find it unnecessary to do morethan lift my hand for attention." A few announcements were made and thenthe meeting was put into the hands of a senior boy, Budd LeRoy, in fact.
At Budd's invitation, after a rousing number played by the band, thecheer leaders came running out, to all appearances in terribleexcitement. But that was their pose. In these days the cheer leaderswere obliged to "try out" for their position. Betty could remember whenin her freshman year there was only one. Now there were six, arrayed inshort sleeved yellow tunics or sweaters of a sort, with a big lion'shead outlined in black upon each manly breast. Betty grinned broadlywhen she saw Brad Warren wearing the lion. So Brad had won in thetry-out for some one to take the place of a cheer leader who had leftschool. Chet had wanted to be a cheer leader, but as he could not verywell be a cheer leader and in the band at the same time, that youngambition could not be gratified.
Lyon High was nothing if not up-to-date! And now the yellow-capped cheerleaders wildly ran into a "huddle," conferring apparently, like afootball team, and separating at once. One cried:
"Make it snappy! Just as you're going to root for the team tomorrow!Everybody in on it! One-two-three-go!
"Yea--Lions! Fight, fight, fight! Yea--Lions! Fight, fight, fight! Yea--Lions! Fight, fight, fight!"
"Now the Big Four yell for the team! One, two, three, four!
"T--T--T--T E--E--E--E A--A--A--A M!
Yea--Team! Fight, fight, fight!"
A different lad led the school next in one of their rally songs whichthey sang with a will:
"What's the matter with Lyon High? Right, all right! What's the matter with our team? Watch them fight!
"No luck for the Eagles; that came last year. We'll show them a seat in the distant rear! What's the matter with Lions? They're all right!"
As may be gathered, this occasion was the last Pep Assembly before thegame with the Lions' most competent enemy, the "Eagles," of the rivalcity high school. Again the championship was to be determined. They hadlost it the year before. This year the team would "do or die" and therooters expected to be out in force. Accustomed as they all were to thisorganized method, of arousing enthusiasm, feeling was not hard to stirthis morning, from the very facts of the situation. It might do, as theboys said, to "get a licking once; but never twice!"
Artistically and athletically the cheer leaders tore about, doing theirvarious prepared stunts, rehearsed especially for this occasion. Budd,who was announcing the program so easily, had once been timid aboutpublic appearance, but in the course of three years and more at LyonHigh, with all its organizations and efforts in the public eye, he hadgotten bravely over his timidity. Presently he was announcing a speechfrom the assistant principal, Mr. Franklin, who was particularlyintereste
d in the school athletics and often took part in thefaculty-versus-student games. His speech was brief and good.
"You need not be afraid that the team will be over-confident," said he,among other things. "Last year's experience will be a reminder to thosewho were on the team and to the new material as well. On the other hand,neither will they suffer the handicap of being fearful. They have arecord of success this fall. Be there to boost them with yourconfidence. The new men this year are not without experience. Thequarterback that came to us from Kentucky ranks along with Freddy Fisheror the boy you all knew as the Don." Here the speaker was interruptedwith loud applause, intended for "Kentucky" and the memories of Freddyand Ramon who had led Lyon High to victory more than once.
"I am looking for some spectacular plays, though we shall not ask forthem. While I am not expecting or desiring the team to 'wring the necksof the Eagles,' as someone suggested, I _am_ expecting it to put them toflight! I thank you."
Smiling at the vigorous applause which followed his last statement orprophecy, Mr. Franklin left the platform, soon to enter the body of theauditorium, where he stood, an efficient representative of disciplineand good order.
As the applause died down, Budd announced speeches by members of theteam. First came the Kentucky boy of whom Mr. Franklin had spoken. Hewas tall and lank, as Kentuckians are supposed to be but often are not.The audience did not know how he had protested against his effort tomake a speech. He had finally said he would appear but they need notexpect any speech. "Good mawnin," he said and flushed hotly at theripple of amusement that ran over the audience of his fellow pupils. Hestood soberly waiting a moment and put his hands in his pockets, to givehim greater confidence, it might be presumed.
"I nevah made a speech in my life," he continued, "and I am quite suahthat I can't make one now. But I said I'd get up here and tell you thatthe team is on the job. We're goin' to do the best playin' of the seasontomorrow--and that's all."
"Kentucky," in the midst of uproarious applause, sauntered off the stagewithout a backward look, thankful, no doubt, that such a publicappearance was over. It was different on the field. You were furtheraway from the crowd and thought about what you were doing.
The next member of the team began a sentence and forgot what he wasgoing to say. But the sympathetic if laughing faces of his audience madehim feel more at home. He was "terribly rattled," as one of the girlsnear Betty whispered, but managed to capture an idea, jerkily expressedit and succeeded in getting off the stage without falling over the band,as Dotty Bradshaw put it. But if there were anything clever or criticalto be said Dotty never missed it. It was a pity, for Dotty was otherwiseso attractive.
The captain of the football team was called upon next. He was somewhatmore experienced in the line of speeches, or felt the responsibilitymore from his position, perhaps. At any rate his speech was a good oneand all the more enthusiastically received from being short and to thepoint. At a signal (who could mistake the actions of the cheer leader)from the active six, the crowd rose in a body and to the tune of "OnWisconsin" sang "On Lions," the Lyon High version:
"On, Lions; on, Lions! Clean up on that team; Show them that the black and tawny Ever is supreme. On Lions; on, Lions, Fighting for your fame! Fight fellows, fight, fight, fight, And win this game."
A few fords and reminders from the principal himself followed this song,as his lifted hand quieted the natural slight disturbance of gettingsettled into seats again.
"Remember that you have in your hands the honor and reputation of theschool and that this honor and reputation are even above winning thegame. Remember that the other team, the other rooters, are boys andgirls like yourselves, most of them fine, and both as _worthy_ and as_interested_ in their own team's winning. Do not do anything that isplanned to stir resentment. Continue to show the good sportsmanship forwhich this school stands. Have your fun and songs and root for yourteam, but show your visitors at our stadium the courtesy that is duethem. And should any of them overstep the bounds of propriety, in theirloyalty to their team, or their inter-plays parades, keep your ownself-control and do not retaliate. Remember that Lyon High counts uponyou."
With this and a few announcements, the principal was through. The bandstruck up the regular Lyon High song, which the audience rose to sing.Then Budd dismissed the meeting and the boys and girls departed toclasses to strains of the latest popular band tune.
"When can you show me the letter, Betty?" asked Carolyn.
"After the Lyon 'Y' meeting this afternoon, Carolyn. I have it with me.Here's hoping I haven't lost it. Oh, wouldn't that be _awful_?"
"It depends upon how personal it is," smiled Carolyn.
"Enough for me not to want anybody else to read it."