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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dorothy
Dale's School Rivals
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Title: Dorothy Dale's School Rivals
Author: Margaret Penrose
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Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DOROTHY DALE'S
SCHOOL RIVALS ***
DOROTHY DALE’S SCHOOL
RIVALS
“DON’T BE AFRAID,” TAVIA CALLED TO THE
ONE IN THE WATER. “IT CAN’T SINK.”
Dorothy Dale’s School Rivals Page 79
DOROTHY DALE’S
SCHOOL RIVALS
BY
MARGARET PENROSE
AUTHOR OF “DOROTHY DALE: A GIRL OF TO-DAY,” “DOROTHY
DALE’S GREAT SECRET,” “DOROTHY DALE’S CAMPING
DAYS,” “THE MOTOR GIRLS,” “THE MOTOR
GIRLS AT LOOKOUT BEACH,” “THE
MOTOR GIRLS THROUGH NEW
ENGLAND,” ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
BOOKS BY MARGARET PENROSE
THE DOROTHY DALE SERIES
Cloth. Illustrated.
DOROTHY DALE: A GIRL OF TO-DAY
DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD SCHOOL
DOROTHY DALE’S GREAT SECRET
DOROTHY DALE AND HER CHUMS
DOROTHY DALE’S QUEER HOLIDAYS
DOROTHY DALE’S CAMPING DAYS
DOROTHY DALE’S SCHOOL RIVALS
THE MOTOR GIRLS SERIES
Cloth. Illustrated.
THE MOTOR GIRLS
Or A Mystery of the Road
THE MOTOR GIRLS ON A TOUR
Or Keeping a Strange Promise
THE MOTOR GIRLS AT LOOKOUT BEACH
Or In Quest of the Runaways
THE MOTOR GIRLS THROUGH NEW ENGLAND
Or Held by the Gypsies
THE MOTOR GIRLS ON CEDAR LAKE
Or The Hermit of the Fern Island
Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York
Copyright, 1912, by
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
DOROTHY DALE’S SCHOOL RIVALS
Printed in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Start 1
II. At Strathaway Bridge 11
III. The Get-away 20
IV. Rival Runs 26
V. School at Last 32
VI. Chocolates and Sandwiches 44
VII. Running a Lunch Counter 51
VIII. Dorothy’s Worries 62
IX. The Interview 69
X. An Upset Canoe 75
XI. Things that Happened 80
XII. Trouble upon Trouble 88
XIII. News and a Newspaper 98
XIV. A Turn in the Tide 105
XV. The Story of Ravelings 113
XVI. The Rescue 120
XVII. Deepening Gloom 124
XVIII. Letters 136
XIX. Zada 144
XX. A Scheme that Failed 150
XXI. A Mishap 156
XXII. The Threat of the “T’s” 163
XXIII. The Investigation 171
XXIV. Jean Again 178
XXV. Teachers 185
XXVI. A Scrap of Paper 194
XXVII. Who Stole the Picture? 201
XXVIII. The Roadside Robbery 208
XXIX. Teachers and Pupils 215
XXX. A Climax 224
XXXI. A Meeting of the Board 233
DOROTHY DALE’S SCHOOL
RIVALS
CHAPTER I
THE START
Dorothy’s blue eyes looked out of the car window, but she saw
nothing. All her faculties were bent upon thinking—thinking of
something that evidently was not pleasant. Tavia fussed around in
the next seat, scattering books, candy boxes, wraps, gloves and
such “trifles.” She finally left the things to their fate and climbed in
with Dorothy.
“We’ll soon be back to the old Glen, Doro,” she said, “and I know
you’ll be glad. As for me, I count this my last hour of freedom, and
feel as if I were going to——”
“Now, Tavia, you know perfectly well that you are just as fond of
Glenwood as I am,” replied Dorothy, with something akin to a smile.
“But of course, you have to get your fun out of growling. Really, I
think this time you won’t be able to get it out of me. I am—glum!”
“That will be the best fun ever. To have you glum! Have you been
to a fortune teller, or anything like that, Doro?”
Dorothy looked harder than ever out of the window, and did not
bother to reply.
“Because, Doro,” went on Tavia, “if she told you a friend is going
to be married it’s me. If she said you would get a letter, asking for
money, that’s from me. If she said a very dear friend was going to
get in some new kind of trouble, that will also be me, and last, if she
said you were going to cross water, it will be on account of my
health. I love fortune tellers, they pick out such good news,” and
Tavia glanced across the aisle at a rather good-looking young man,
who was reading a theatrical paper.
Dorothy touched Tavia’s hand. “There,” she said, “I am not going
to have any more blues. I can’t manage well with them, and I have
to manage you, Tavia.”
“Now, have you only just discovered that? Well, all I can say is
that I am glad the other girls did not get these seats. They are—
ahem—so convenient!”
“But there is one vacant place just back of the young man whom
you are watching,” said Dorothy, teasingly.
“And there comes one of our girls,” exclaimed Tavia. “I wager she
flops into it.”
The prediction was correct. A new girl, with very up-to-date
apparel, and very flashy jewelry, had taken the vacant seat. The
book she carried showed its title plainly, and was, of course, one of
“the best sellers.”
“Next she’ll drop the book under his seat, and he’ll have to speak
to her in returning it,” said Tavia. “Now, why didn’t I think of trying
that? Such a chance!”
Dorothy was interested in the new girl and paid little attention to
the talk that Tavia was making for her benefit, for, though Tavia
always loved to do absurd things, she would not have spoken to the
stranger.
“She is the young lady we were introduced to on the depot
platform,” Dorothy remarked. “Her name is Jean Faval.”
“Ought to be Bean Flavor,” said Tavia, trying to pun on the name.
“She looks sort of—canned.”
“I think her very stylish, but that skirt is tight. I wouldn’t wear one
like it myself,” Dorothy replied.
“And a Dutch neck on the train,” continued Tavia, looking at the
very white neck of the new girl, who wore no collar. “I believe she
wears slippers, and the very thinnest silk hose.”
“It’s warm enough for both, and I shouldn’t mind having forgotten
my heavy walking shoes,” Dorothy said.
Just then the book dropped. Tavia almost jumped out of her seat.
She actually gasped. The young lady across moved her foot, and the
book came out in the aisle.
In an instant Tavia had it in her hands, and was passing it back.
“Oh, thank you so much!” spoke the owner, in a suspicious tone.
“I could have gotten it.”
“It was not the least bit of trouble,” and Tavia uttered a false note
that caused the young man to turn and observe her.
“Anything I can do?” he asked, politely. “Have you lost anything?”
Both girls answered in the same words.
“Oh, no; thank you.”
He glanced over at Dorothy, then resumed his paper. Miss Faval
found her place in her book, and Tavia turned to her chum.
“Didn’t I tell you? Am I not a prophet? But I spoiled it, and I am
dying laughing from head to foot.”
“She will think you rude,” cautioned Dorothy.
“I hope she thinks me the entire conjugation, and the worse ones
on the last page. I can see some fun with her at Glen.”
“Please, Tavia,” begged Dorothy, “don’t try to get into trouble
before we arrive there. You have plenty of time during the term,”
and she looked bored—quite unlike the real Dorothy.
“Say, Doro,” exclaimed Tavia, “I actually believe you want to get
rid of me. I’ll run off and leave you to your dismals. I know Dick and
Ned have a brand of chocolates I am particularly fond of, and your
own Cologne always tips the porter for ice water. So be good, and,”
she added in a whisper, “don’t miss any of the circus,” nodding her
head toward the other side of the aisle. “Be sure to render me a
satisfactory and full report.”
Tavia flaunted off, and Dorothy again pressed her pale face to the
window pane. The hills and vales were rolling away, and of course
the fast train seemed to be standing still. The wonderful changes of
scenery, that had never failed before to interest her, she now
scarcely saw.
In the rear of the car were a number of her companions, but she
was really glad to be alone. There was Rose-Mary Markin, known as
Cologne; Edna Black, called Ned Ebony; Molly Richards, titled just
Dick, and others picked up along the route to Glenwood School, in
the mountains of New England.
Dorothy was not sick. She was gloomy, and whatever caused this
gloom had occurred just before the girls left for school, for up to
that time she had been the same vivacious, sprightly girl who had
ever been a favorite with her acquaintances and companions. The
change in her manner was, therefore, so marked that even the
reckless Tavia noticed it instantly, as did the other girls, who were
wise enough (on advice of Cologne, Dorothy’s most intimate friend
after Tavia) to let Dorothy alone, and not bother her.
The sun was fading into shadows, and soon the train would pull
into the familiar little Glenwood station. Then what a time there
would be! Dorothy thought of it, and again determined to be
cheerful. Tavia would be, as Tavia herself had declared, “on top of
the heap,” for while there was no hazing allowed, something that
made a splendid imitation was ever practiced on the first night, the
“fun” not being confined to new scholars, either.
The car attendant came through the train, and turned on the
lights. The strange gentleman with the paper across the aisle asked
him if they would get in on schedule and he replied they had lost a
little time, but were making it up now.
“Thought you had an extra clip on,” commented the stranger.
Scarcely were the words uttered than Dorothy and everyone else
was thrown from their seats, and then there was a terrific crash.
Instantly there followed screams and commotion. The lights went
out, and many passengers rushed for the doors. Dorothy realized
she was not hurt. Next, the other girls from the rear of the car were
hanging around her, displaying very little of the common sense that
had been drilled into them at Glenwood.
“Oh, Dorothy, what is it?”
“Oh, Dorothy, my arm is broken!”
“Oh, Dorothy, I am sure we will all be killed!”
“Doro, are you all right?”
This last was from Tavia, while the other gasps came from various
girls, too intermixed to separate.
It seemed a long time, but was, in reality, only a few seconds,
until the conductor and porter made their way to the girls’ car, and
assured them that nothing at all had happened, more than the
rather too sudden stopping of the train, made necessary by a special
and unexpected signal. The lights were again turned on, and
everyone might see that there really had been no accident. The
seats were as straight and as smooth as ever, and most of the
frightened passengers were gathering up their trinkets from the
floor, and replacing them in the holders and seats.
Edna Black was rubbing her arm, and wincing.
“Is your hand hurt?” Dorothy asked.
“I’m afraid it is. I got quite a jolt against the seat arm. But I guess
it isn’t much,” Edna replied.
Tavia gazed across the aisle. The young man was looking at Edna.
The new girl was groaning dramatically. She was also trying to get
back into her skirt, that had, in the excitement sprung up like a deep
girdle around her waist.
“Can’t flop nicely in a skirt tight as that!” Tavia whispered to Molly
Richards. “I wish it had all ripped to pieces. Wouldn’t it be sport for
her to have to get out in a buttoned raincoat?”
“She’s pretty,” Mollie said, simply.
“That’s why I hate her,” replied Tavia. “I always hate what I can’t
have—even beauty.”
“Strange you get along so well with—well, with some people,”
answered Molly, casting an appreciative glance at Tavia, with the
hazel eyes, and the shade of hair every one loves—no color in
particular but all combined in one glow. “Every one envies you,
Tavia.”
Dorothy was examining Edna’s wrist.
Meanwhile the new girl kept exclaiming, “Oh, my!” Finally the
young man turned to her.
“Are you hurt?” he asked kindly.
Tavia gripped Molly’s arm.
“Oh, I don’t know,” whimpered Miss Faval, “but I am so—nervous.”
It was the greatest wonder in the world that Tavia did not shout
“hurrah” or something equally absurd.
“You are shaken up,” said the stranger, “but nerves soon adjust
themselves, when there is not any real injury. I see some one else
has trouble.” He crossed to Dorothy and Edna. “Can I help you?” he
asked. “I know something of medicine.”
“And he was reading a theatrical paper!” Tavia managed to get in
line with Molly’s ear. “I’ll wager he turns out to be a baseball player.”
“My friend has hurt her arm,” Dorothy told the young man, who
had already taken the trembling hand of Edna in his own firm grasp.
“She fell against the arm of the seat.”
All eyes were upon them. Of course Tavia was whispering:
“Wouldn’t be my luck! Just like Ned! Do you suppose he will need
help to set it? I’ll get a glass of water—that’s safe,” and off she
raced, making jolly remarks to the frightened ones, as she made her
way to the water cooler.
“I’m afraid it is sprained,” said the man, holding Edna’s hand, “but
I have some bandages in my grip.”
Tavia had returned with the glass of water before he found the
bandages.
“I’m so sorry, Ned dear,” said Tavia truthfully. “I’m so sorry it is not
my arm. Isn’t he handsome!”
Edna smiled, and Dorothy held the water to her lips. As the young
man with the antiseptic cloth crossed the aisle Dorothy motioned
Tavia to stand back and make room for the work to be done. Tavia
stepped back, and just then the train gave one, single jerk.
The contents of Tavia’s glass of water went over the “Dutch neck”
of Jean Faval.
“Oh, mercy!” screamed the girl.
Tavia recovered herself from the jerk and was just about to
apologize when Amy Brooks rushed up to them.
“Whatever do you think, girls?” she blurted out. “The railroad
bridge is down, and we can’t leave this spot to-night!”
