THE DARE.

Auckland Star, Volume LIX, Issue 261, 3 November 1928, Page 22 (Supplement)

THE DARE.

(By Isobel Brook, Motu, via Opotiki, age 17.) The term holidays were over, and the girls of St. Margaret's were preparing for bed, and at the same time recounting their holiday experiences. Dorm. 12 was especially noisy, and shriek? of muffled Laughter issued from inside the closed door. "Jean, 7011 awfnl storyteller!" laughed Maggie, and Jean McLennan, a pretty girl with a thick plait of red hair, swung round. "Maggie, go are you!" she said. "It's as true as anything. The bull waited underneath that tree tor easily two hours till Dad came, and all that time I was perched up there like a cramped skylark !" When the laughter had subsided, Lizzie McGregor chimed in, "Skylarks don't perch!" "Neither do you!" retorted Maggie, and the girls laughed again. "Weren't you frightened, Jean?" asked Helen. "No, not a bit!" replied Jean airily. "I'm never frightened. P "Aren't you, though!" said Vera Andrews, the most disagreeable girl in the dormitory. "Well, I'll (la]£ you to <?o to the Hermit's, Hut to-morrow night by yourself, and bring back a laurel leaf to show that you've been. Do you accept it?" Jean flushed up, and the other girls looked surprised. "'Will you, Jean?" asked Helen. "Yes. I will!" said Jean defiantly, "and I'll bring back the leaf, too!" The venture would take all her courage, though, for Hermit's Hut was a lonely shack about a quarter of a mile away from the school, and was supposed to be haunted by the spirit of an old man who had o _ce lived there. The only laurel tree in the district grew beside the hut, and it was from this that Jean had to take her leaf. The next day wore slowly but surely on, and Jean was subject to mixed feelings during tea time. She "as glad that she could show her Scotch courage, but she was a little bit scared all the same. When all the girls of No. 12 were in bed Jean sat up, and. leaning over, tapped Helen's arm in the darkness. "Helen!" she whispered, "I'll tell you what lam going to do."' She imparted the news, and Helen was delighted. "What a good idea," she said, "and youll feel safer too!"

Jean did not sleep at all, for the excitement of her coming adventure kept her awake, and as the clock downstairs struck eleven she slipped out of bed and dressed. Then she took one of the sheets off her bed, and folding it up tightly, put it under her arm; she then -walked noiselessly out of the dormitory and down the passage, carrying her sandshoes in her hand. She made her exit through the windowin a disused downstairs study, and hurried down the path to the gate and out to the road, Fortunately the moon iras shining, althonght the drifting clouds obscured it now and then. Jean unfolded her sheet and wrapped it round her to try the effect. "H'm," she said. "Xot bad! And Fll waylay that ghost, too. A ghost chasing a ghost though! 71 she added, laughing. Then she hurried down the road with the sheet under her arm again. Soon the hut came into sight, and Jean enveloped herself in the sheet. "How creepy and quiet it is," she mused, as she glided silently over the grass in her sandshoes. She got her leaf from the laurel tree quite safely, and was creeping round the hut to explore, when she heard a sudden noise like —well, she didn't know what it was like. Then before she could go further a white something sailed round the corner and came towards her. Jean's blood curdled, and she let forth a dreadful yell, and instead of running away she made for the ghost. This thing, not expecting sncli a move on its victim's part, screamed and fled, with Jean, still yelling, in full pursuit. Away they went, their draperies fluttering and dragging, and both making unearthly noises, when suddenly the foremost one stumbled over an unseen ditch and fell in. It lay there shrieking with all its might, with a strangely hnman voice, and when Jean came near it howled "Go away! Go awaa-a-y!" and ended with a piercing shriek. Jean nearly dropped with amazement. '""Vera Andrews, as sure as I'm alive!" she gasped, and, pulling off her fancy dress she called out. "My word, you did get a fright, Vera!" The "ghost that was" shrieked again. "Are you sure it's not real?" she said, with fright. "You nearly killed me, Jean!" "All your own fault, my dear," responded Jean, who had now quite recovered. They walked back to school together, and by the time they reached the gate were firm friends. "Jean," said Vera. "I'll never try to frighten anyone again."'