each other. The boys were getting their music
in order, putting it upon the standards in front
of them, or just sitting down to try out their in-
struments. Betty, the assured junior now, knew
personally many of the band members, and the
names of most of the others.

As she waited, not seeing the person she
sought, the door behind her flew open to admit
a hurrying boy, Chet Dorrance, a senior now
and still a good friend of Betty's. He stopped
in his mad haste to speak to her. “'Lo, Betty,
how's this? Going to lead the band this
morning?”

“Of course,” laughingly replied Betty. “I'm
glad you came along, Chet. The principal wants
to see the band leader and sent me to tell him
-- not the drum-major, you know, but Mr. --
What's-his-name.” Betty lifted her pretty chin
a moment.

“You see I'm all fussed, Chet, over such an
errand.”

“Yes -- you -- are!”

“Well, I do hate to go up there to find him,
though I thought I might get him from the
wings. But would you mind telling him for me,
if he comes in pretty soon? It might be possible

[[7]]

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