Blissfully unaware of Julia Peyton’s ambitious schemes against them and democracy at Hamilton the Travelers finished their dessert amidst plenty of fun and laughter and flocked upstairs and into 15 again, there to spend one of their old-time merry “stunt” evenings.

Ronny danced to Phil’s violin music. Robin sang, accompanied by the same talented, infallible musician. Phil’s violin playing had become institutional with the Travelers. She was always equal to musical emergency. Leila and Vera convulsed their buoyant audience with a quaintly humorous Irish dialogue which they had found in an old book while in Ireland and had gleefully learned. Jerry partly sang a popular song off the key until she was drowned out by laughter.

Muriel recited a monologue which she had composed and named: “Back on the campus.” Barbara sang a French song. Kathie and Lillian endeavored to sing together an old German song precisely as Professor Wenderblatt was wont to sing it in his full bass voice. They broke down in the midst of 130deep-uttered bass growls and gutterals and lost track of the tune so completely they never found it again, but subsided with laughter.

Marjorie and Lucy pleaded having no stunt to offer and were each ordered to recite their favorite short poem. Marjorie thereupon recited “To a Grecian Urn,” and Lucy gave Poe’s weird, “Ulalume.” Leslie won quick approval by her prompt response to the demand by giving a funny series of imitations.

The feature of the stunt party was contributed, however, by Miss Remson and Miss Susanna. They had conducted a chuckling confab together at one end of the room into which they had invited Phil. She had listened to them, then laughingly nodded, played a few bars of an odd little tune on her violin and returned to her place in the center of the room.

When Phil presently tapped on her violin with her bow, the two little old ladies stepped gaily out, hand in hand, in a lively jigging dance. They pranced forward and back, clasped right hands above their heads and jigged around each other, clasped left hands and jigged again, joined right and left hands and spun in a circle then polkaed up and down the room with spirit. There were other variations to the dance which they performed with equal sprightliness. Their delighted audience gurgled and squealed with laughter, breaking forth into riotous applause as the jigging pair reached their throne 131and sank upon their cushions, breathless and laughing.

Marjorie thought she had never seen a prettier sight than the pair of dainty little old ladies in their charming satin dresses stepping out so blithely to the old-fashioned polka.

“That is the Glendon Polka if you care to know it,” Miss Susanna informed the girls. “I used to dance it as a girl, and I found that the Empress of Wayland Hall knew how to dance it, too. I learned to dance it before going to my first party. Uncle Brooke engaged a dancing master to come and teach me the latest dances.”

“The latest dances.” Jerry said with an enjoying chuckle. “Not much like a fox trot, is it?”

“I believe I must have learned that polka from the same dancing master,” Miss Remson said. “I lived in West Hamilton as a girl and went to dancing school. It was a Professor Griggs who taught me the Glendon polka.”

“The same man,” Miss Susanna declared brightly. The two old ladies beamed at each other. This little coincidence relative to their youth served to strengthen the bond of friendship between them.

“This is the queer part of the Glendon polka,” Phil said. “When Miss Susanna said she and Miss Remson were going to do an old-time dance called the Glendon polka, I remembered I’d seen that title in an old music book at home. I had tried it and learned to play it when I first began to take violin 132lessons as a kiddie. I had liked it because it was such a frisky little tune.”

“You never dreamed then that someday you would play it for two old ladies to frisk to, did you?” Miss Remson gently pinched Phil’s cheek as she sat balanced on the edge of the throne, her violin in hand.

“I never did,” Phil laughed. “I’ll never forget the Glendon polka.”

“It seems we hadn’t forgotten how to dance it in spite of our years,” Miss Susanna said with a little nod of satisfaction.

“Did you know there were prizes to be given for the best stunts?” Katherine Langly joined the group around the throne. Kathie was looking her radiant best in a coral beaded afternoon frock of Georgette. Her blue eyes were sparkling with light and life and her red lips broke readily into smiles. She bore small likeness to the sad, self-effacing sophomore the Travelers had taken under their protective wing at the beginning of their freshman year at Hamilton. Kathie was now commencing her second year as a member of the faculty. She was famed on the campus as a playwright and her triumphantly literary future was assured. She had already sold several short stories to important magazines and had begun her first novel.

“Ronny is going to be magnificently generous, so she says, and give out the prizes. She’s gone to 133her room after them,” Lillian added to the information Kathie had just given.

“‘Magnificently generous’” Kathie repeated suspiciously. “That doesn’t sound promising to me. I know she means us.”

“Could any persons be more worthy of a prize,” giggled Lillian. “Remember how hard we worked.”

Ronny soon returned wearing a mischievous expression. She carried a good-sized paper-wrapped package on one arm. In one hand she held two small packages which suggested jewelry. The girls guessed the large bundle to contain one or more boxes of the delicious candied fruit from her ranch home of which she always had a stock on hand.

“Hear, hear!” Ronny placed her bundles on the table and waved both arms above her head for attention. “Who had the best stunt?” she called out. “Altogether; answer!”

“The Lady of the Arms and the Empress of Wayland Hall,” came back an instant concerted murmur of response.

“Contrary-minded?”

“No,” piped up these two distinguished but extremely modest dancers.

“Two against eleven. Prepare to receive the prize.” Ronny importantly opened the paper wrapper of the large package and took from it two sweet-grass square baskets of candied fruit. She presented them in turn with many bows and flourishes to the two elderly women.

134“Who won the booby stunt?” she next demanded of the company.

Concerted opinion differed as to whether Jerry, or Kathie and Lillian were more eligible to the booby prize. Further inquiry and Jerry was eliminated in favor of Lillian and Kathie. The prizes turned out to be two small willow whistles such as the cow-boys at Mana?a were adept at making.

“Next time whistle. Don’t attempt to sing,” was Ronny’s succinct advice as she presented the would-be bass singers with the whistles.

“We can be noisy tonight and still be protected.&rd............