7 ACORN interfere with her happiness, but that failed to help the mystery So, with a slight apology, I asked the question over again. "Well I hoped you wouldn't insist that I tell, because it would be better for her if you never knew, but she she is a Grecian." My heart sank heavily. I had thought that Ruth Sousera was a rose without a thorn. A vague uneasiness soon began to steal over me, and I stopped dancing and joined the fellows. They had seen me with Claire Dwice (they always knew who danced with her), and I received congratulations on the "hit" they said I'd made. Isn't she a perfect, priceless peach, Don?" one of them asked me. "She is, surely," I replied, "but I can't get over what she told me. In both beauty and personality I think Ruth Sousera is her superior (the boys laughed here), but Miss Dwice says she is a Greek. Her name sounds like it, but her golden hair and blue eyes would fool anybody." "Surprised at your taste, Rinby. She is a 'Dago' through and through. Not a drop of white blood in her. None of the fellows even dance with her. I suppose you'll be admiring negroes next." The gay whirl of the dance continued. I heard the accompanying music but faintly as if I were dreaming dreaming under the vague, enchanting spell of Morpheus. Surely there was no peculiar occult connection between the Sousera girl and me, but the fact that she was an ideal that had been shattered by something so unexpected as "Dago" blood placed me in a very dismal mood. After about twenty or thirty minutes in this dazed mental condition, something entirely unexpected I also thought it out of place brought me back to the sternness of this romantic life. "They've found the thief." I heard some one say, "They've got her the thief!" My dreaming ceased, and I looked up just in time to see everybody gazing at the Grecian girl. She was looking nervously at the floor, and a deathly pallor was on her cheeks. A diamond ring, owned by the Dean of the University, had just been found in her coat. I don't know who found it I do not care but someone followed a clue, and the affair culminated in the finding of the conclusive evidence in her possession. These were my first experiences in social life at Childers University. The light of the personality of Ruth Sousera, so dazzling a few hours before, had assuredly gone out. The next morning I received a letter, addressed in a lady's hand. My room-mate saw it as soon as I, and told me almost instantly that the handwriting on the envelope was that of the Sousera girl. A Senior friend, whose room was just next to ours, also saw the letter, and, entirely independent of my room-mate, told me that it was her ACORN 8 writing. So I took that as conclusive. I shoved the letter in a drawer, and it was soon forgotten. Ruth Sousera was wanted at school that day, but she was nowhere to be found. Neither did they find her the next day; nor the next. But on the day after that the news gradually spread that the bothersome thief had been caught that she was, in fact, in custody at the president's home. My curiosity got the better of me. I remembered the sweet face, the golden hair, and the blue eye's. The home of the president was not far away, so I leisurely loitered in that direction. When I reached my destination I was told that the lady thief was being quizzed in the adjoining room. I went to the door, but did not open it, and listened. My mind gave me a clear picture of the Grecian girl exceptional because she was a blonde but the voice, although familiar, did not sound like hers. There was no deception about it. I was hearing a lady's voice low, musical and melodious. Miss Sousera did not talk that way. My curiosity was to see the Grecian girl, and this was not she, so I started home. Could it be possible that Ruth Sousera was not the thief? I remembered the letter, and as soon as I got home I opened it. Here is what I read: "Dear Mr. Rinby: "Last night I was falsely accused, but I cannot explain. My aunt, with whom I was staying for I am an orphan has put me out into the street. I have no place to go, and do not know where I shall get my next meal. The affair of last night has turned the whole world against me. Mr. Rinby, believe me. When I met you, you seemed a friend, and I need a friend now. Meet me promptly at four off Jensen Court. Mr. Rinby, please, PLEASE, be there. "RUTH SOUSERA." That night I slept but little. In a sort of half-dream I could see Ruth Sousera sometimes starving and sometimes stealing. Then I could hear the low voice of the girl at the president's that afternoon. I could not place it, although it had sounded familiar. It was impossible for me to forgive myself for not having opened that letter sooner, even though I did not know whether or not to believe what it said. Could it be that both girls were guilty, that both were innocent, or that only one of the two was an enemy to society? These thoughts drove my sleep away. I did not know what to do, but intuitively I felt that I could relieve the situation. I rehearsed in my mind the evening in the ball room when I had met Ruth Sousera so shortly before, and I lived my