Jane Allen, Center

  Produced by Roger Frank and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  "Teekawata, come!" called the Indian.]

  JANE ALLEN: CENTER

  By Edith Bancroft

  Author of Jane Allen of the Sub-Team, Jane Allen: Right Guard, etc.

  THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY

  Akron, Ohio--New York

  Copyright MCMXX

  THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY

  Jane Allen, Center

  Made in the United States of America

  CONTENTS I--The Silver Lining II--Telltale Tidings III--Over the Hills and Far Away IV--Woo Nah and the Fortunes V--On Their Way VI--Journey De Luxe VII--Lost--a Girl VIII--New York at Last IX--Girls' Life a La Mode X--Fears and Fancies XI--A Strange Predicament XII--Wellington En Masse XIII--Stirring the Depths XIV--Baffling Strategy XV--Election Night XVI--Politics Et Al XVII--Potential Enemies XVIII--The Woes of "Alias Helen" XIX--Teams and Teamsters XX--Stemming the Tide XXI--The Two Jays XXII--Jane Allen: Center XXIII--The Barn Swifts--a Tragedy XXIV--A Clue to the Mystery XXV--To the Victors XXVI--Angels Unawares XXVII--What the "Bugle" Blew XXVIII--Madam Nalasky XXIX--The Boy Stanislaus XXX--The Acorn and the Oak

  CHAPTER I--THE SILVER LINING

  Jolly round fleecy clouds tumbled over their playmates in the great,broad playfield of endless blue; baby cloudlets climbed to tops, onlyto slide down the other side, while haughty, majestic, dignifiedleaders paraded straight to the prairie line, taking on tones moresombre with each lap of earth left below. A shower should bemarshalled, it had been promised the wheat fields, but those young skyrowdies never wanted to work, always romping and skylarking, allowingthe silliest little breezes to blow them off their course.

  The girl on the grass gazed up; in her gray eyes the steely glintsquivered into sharp, silver blade-like flashes, reflected from thearrow of some little god just peeking from behind the cloud mountain.He warned her of the shower, he knew the parade would soon be formedinto battle line, yet the girl saw only the sunshine still braving thecloud's attack.

  "Just like one's fortune," she mused, "clouds and sunshine, pleasanthere and a storm somewhere else. I wonder why we take things soseriously? I believe the greatest philosophy of life is moderation: andI am going to be very moderate with my little worries. The sunshine isonly behind the cloud, and the reaction is always crowding theperplexities. I am not going to worry about going away this year."

  The girl was retrospective. Vacation was almost over, and Jane Allenwould soon leave the hills of El Capitan, her ranch home, to take upher Junior year at Wellington college. Fortified with the resolutionagainst loneliness Jane would try to cover the thought of leaving herdear dad, and her Aunt Mary, with the anticipation of so much joy atthe homecoming when the school term would end. A drop of rain fell intoher eye with the precision of an eye dropper. She blinked, then jumpedto her feet.

  "Jan, Janie also Jeanie," she roused herself. "Do you want some woozygnome to turn you into an old maid? Why the ruminating? In the words ofJudy Stearns, why the Willies? Don't you want to go back toWellington?" she asked herself.

  A light sprinkle answered her. That shower would come in spite of thesun still showing blades of defiance. A rumble of thunder chased theflash from her eyes and the playful sky god ducked behind the blackmountain. Jane stretched her arms unconsciously into gym rhythm, did aone, two, three and a couple of doubles, then straightened her litheform, squared her shoulders, and made a quarter of a mile dash to thehouse. She tumbled into the cushions at Aunt Mary's feet just as thedrops assumed the magnitude of splatter and splash.

  "Auntie Mary," she panted, "did you notice it is raining?"

  "Notice it? I behold it, Janie dear. I am glad you got back in time.These late summer showers often turn into good sizable storms. Wherehave you been?"

  "Under my particular tree. I was telling my fortune in the sky when Iespied a whole flock of clouds, that wanted to play with an earthmaiden. They flirted outrageously, but I knew you would never consentto my taking up with sky-gods without being properly introduced. So Ishook my head, and wig-wagged that they should send their cards to theastronomy class. Auntie, hast any mail?"

  "Yes, dear. And one from Wellington."

  "Oh, goody-good! It will tell us who won the scholarship. But look atthat rain. I wonder if Firefly got to his shed? I must see."

  "Janie, don't run in that downpour, Janie!" But the girl was off downthe bridle path, waving her arms backward to signify how splendid thesheets of rain felt, tossing up her bronze head, determined to acceptthe full charge of the unequaled beauty bath in her joyous face. Oh! itwas wonderful to be alive and at El Capitan!

  "The dear," murmured her aunt, "and some folks think her willful. Ihave always noticed that her self will ran in the right direction. Shedidn't care to leave home for school, of course, but now she lovescollege life. Well, I do wonder if there is anything more beautiful inlife than a glorious young girl."

  Was Aunt Mary a little regretful? She had been a young girl once. Shehad been glorious too. Jane had inherited her own swirl of bronze hairfrom this self-same Aunt Mary, while the mother, a woman of rare beautyhad given the daughter those metallic gray eyes. Their glints could beas soft as silver, or as flashy as steel, so, beautiful eyes, that werevelvet in meekness were really metallic in their moody changes.Presently a gale of laughter announced Jane's return.

  "Auntie," called the girl who was thus being eulogized, "I am bringingyou a guest. Here is Uncle Todd, got caught in the storm, purposes togive you a jolly chat. Come on, Uncle. Aunt Mary wants to hear allabout the auction over Lincoln way. They even sold the big tree, AuntMary."

  On the arm of the young girl there came trudging along the tanbark pathUncle Todd; old, gray, tottering, his cane so much a part of himself asto seem a third member, his uncertain smile ever making its way toJane's happy face, while she urged and assisted him to the porch.Plainly he loved Jane, and he enjoyed the prospect of a chat with AuntMary, for Uncle Todd was a ranch character, serving, by contrast, topicture more clearly the types so varied and so completely differentfrom that which he presented. Uncle Todd was a conservative in a groupof rebels. He kept with him the mannerisms of old New York State andwas a Yankee of the strongest and deepest dye. Even the twang of voice,and tworl of words, had not been rounded out into the drawl of thehills around El Capitan.

  "Good afternoon, or is it still mornin'?" wheezed the old man. "Glad Imet Janie or that there shower might have blown me clean into thehereafter. Sich a blow," and he adjusted the confidential cane. "Jestlike the one that came one afternoon last summer, when that there cityfellar tried to sell me the trick umbrel." He clambered the low stepsunsteadily. "And I mind, Janie girl, you happened along that day too.Seems like as if you know just when to happen," chuckling, he put hisarm more firmly into that of the girl who urged him along.

  "Now, Uncle Todd, you know very well you were perfectly all right whenI found you just now. I do believe you were going to sit plumb down anddefy the storm. Just to see what it would do at its worst. But you area little wet," feeling the green coat that covered the bent shoulders."I wonder, Aunt Mary, if we can't fit Uncle Todd out in some of daddy'sregimentals."

  "No need, no need," he objected. "This here co't don't leak a mite.Finest yarn--no more of this kind. I fetched it clear from Syracuse," heannounced almost reverently.

  "But you had better come inside," warned Aunt Mary, "the rain gets inhere when the wind turns."

  "Just as you say, Miss Allen. Fact is, I never say no to a sit in theparlor. I say to the boys, boys I say; if you want a real goodcomfortable chin, in a chair that's big enough for you, make it over atHenry Allen's place."

  Graciously acknowledging
the compliment, Aunt Mary and Jane led the oldman into the living room he was wont to call the parlor.

  "You are always welcome, Uncle Todd," said the lady.

  "How about the boys, Auntie?" teased Jane. "Especially the one whoplays the uke. I think he is wonderful. You should see him performingin the corral the other night. My, but he did swing that lasso!"

  "You mean the fellar with the long, lanky build? He looks like he'sbeen stretched out when he was wet!" put in Uncle Todd. "Yes, I heardhim with that there fiddle box. 'Tain't more'n a mite of a box, with acouple of strings, but it kin keep a fellar awake, I tell you. There'sa tree near my hut with a regular rickin' chair, made right in it, andthem there boys like that place for their evenin's. Well, Uncle Toddgoes to bed earlier than the young fellars and--well, the chap with thefiddle sure does love to tune up," and the usual chuckle ended hisquaint statement.

  "But I really want to know about the auction, Uncle Todd," interruptedMiss Allen. "I am so sorry Welche's folks had to give the old place upat last. Did they sell everything?"

  "Couple times over. Never see such shouting and jumpin'. Why the Deenygirls, them old maids as never twisted their stiff necks to bow to manor beast in these parts, them was the wurst. They just seemed to wantto buy every thin' and carry it away in their old barouche." The oldman pounded his cane on the buffalo rug in sheer contempt. "Like as ifthey was goin' to set up a first class boardin' house hotel."

  "Oh, you know, Uncle," enlightened Aunt Mary. "They are related to theWelches."

  "Eggzactly. I recall. More reason why they should act decent like.There was Mother Welch, out back in the barn, her apron most pokin' hereyes out at every yell from old Sheriff Nailor."

  "Now, I am just going to leave you two and the auction," spoke up Jane,"while I devour the delectable news in my letter. Did you ever have aletter too good to read, Uncle Todd?"

  "Yes, girl, I know that feelin'. Like you hate to have it over becauseyou want to have it on. Well, go to it, Janie, and don't swallow toomuch of that yellar paper. Looks poison like to me."

  Jane crushed the yellow envelope to her breast, in sheer delight. Thenshe snapped up a knitting needle to open the cherished missive.

  "You know, Auntie," she whispered, "this will tell us who won dadykin'sscholarship." Then raising her voice to Uncle Todd's inquiring eyes,"Daddy gave a scholarship to my college, Unk," she told him. "Do yousuppose some very nice, prim, prudy, who took the home correspondencecourse between making sister Julia pinafores and Jacob's jumpers, haswon it? Of course, I respect home cooking girls, and particularlyadmire the devotees of domestic science, but Grade B from theBranchville would be all out of luck in the Wellington routine. Bye-byenow, and be good. Uncle Todd, don't make Aunt Mary envious with yourreport of auction bargains. She is always and ever objecting tocatalogue prices."

  With a gay wave of the letter, in which delight was momentarilysuppressed, Jane flitted from the room to the porch, where now the lastdrops of the afternoon shower were reluctantly counting their totals.She dropped into the big wicker chair near the wisteria arch, andcurled up like a kitten, in the way girls have of "fairly eating" aletter.

  While she is thus perusing this perfectly private communication let uspresent Jane Allen formally to our readers.

  In the first volume, "Jane Allen of the Sub-Team," we met her as a girlSolitaire. She had been reared on a ranch, without girl companions, andhad never realized that tolerance which is necessary in the big worldof boys and girls. But once at the Eastern college we like her best inher brave battles against the limits of conventions she finds there,and we cannot but admire the spirit with which she holds out, just longenough, and gives in just in time, to save situations. Perhaps the truedeep affection, so soon shown for Jane by her classmates of thefreshmen, is the best testimonial to her glory as Jane Allen Sub. Janehad for a time ignored the tame basketball sport, delighting in herstolen rides on Firefly (for her indulgent father had sent the saddlehorse to school too with Jane as he expressed it), but finallyacknowledging there was something worth while in the game Jane foughtfor a place on the team, and she won it triumphantly. The oppositiontried many turns both fair and foul to defeat her, but Jane won out;with an interesting flourish.

  Not less attractive was she as Jane Allen, Right Guard, in the secondvolume of the series. Girls can be very small sometimes, even behindthe sheltering walls of important colleges, and in this story we wereintroduced to a set of "peculiars" commonly called "snobs," who spent alot of perfectly good time trying to spoil Jane's ever-growingpopularity at Wellington. Just how flatly they failed makes a ratherthrilling tale. Haven't you read it? You will love the way Jane rescuesNorma, the girl working her way through college, putting down schemeafter scheme, concocted just to embarrass the poorer girl. Jane found alegitimate outlet for her talent as a joy maker, and a gloom crusher.Even taking it moderately, one is enthralled with her genius in makingand keeping the best of friends, and Judith Stearns her "best," runs aclose second with Jane in the popularity contest of the second volume.