Several days followed during which the girls settled down earnestly to
their studies. For scholarship was held very high at Three Towers Hall,
and any one who did not stand well in class was apt to find herself not
only in ill favor with the teachers but with the students as well.
The girls had reported to Miss Walters the result of their visit to
Polly Haddon, and the principal had seemed unusually interested and
sympathetic.
"Now that you girls have taken the Haddon family under your wing," she
had said, smiling at the chums, "I think we shall have to see the thing
through--at least until the mother is strong enough to begin work again.
But in the meantime," she had added, with a nod of the head that meant
dismissal, "I don't want interest in the Haddon family to make my girls
neglect their studies. I expect great things of you this year."
And so the girls, "feeling warm all over," as they always did after a
talk with Miss Walters, went back to their work, confident in the
thought that the Haddons would not be left to starve, at least.
"Saturday we will go over ourselves and see how little Peter is," said
Billie, as, pencil in hand, she prepared to wade into a geometry
problem. "Listen, Laura," she added, looking up at her friend hopefully,
"if you will help me with this geometry I'll coach you in history. Is it
a go?"
Laura declared it was a "go," and so they settled down to work. But no
amount of work could keep their thoughts from straying time and again to
the Haddon family and the mystery of the stolen invention.
As the girls who have read the former adventures of Billie Bradley
already know, Billie and her chums had been admitted to the "Ghost
Club," a secret society to which only the most popular girls and those
who stood highest in their studies were admitted.
The membership had never exceeded fifteen, for the girls knew that to
have too large a membership would only cheapen the club. Rose Belser was
the president of it, and Connie Danvers and several other of the girls'
good friends were members. Caroline Brant had been asked to join long
before, but had refused because she thought it would take too much time
from her studies.
Last year's Commencement had taken two of the club's members, so that
now the girls were watching the freshmen for good material. They were
very careful in choosing, however, for it was far easier to get members
into the club than it was to get them out.
The club was to have its first real meeting in two weeks, and it was at
that meeting that the names of prospective members were to be
tentatively submitted to the president. After that, a period of close
watching, and then--the fun of initiations.
But first came news that ran through the Hall like wildfire. Some of the
boys from Boxton Military Academy were coming over to the big hill
behind the Three Towers Hall for the first real sledding of the year,
and they had invited as many of the girls as they knew--and their
friends--to meet them there.
Chet and Teddy and Ferd were coming over, of course, and as the day
approached, anticipation grew accordingly until the girls could think
and talk of nothing but the fun they were going to have.
"I wonder if Teddy will bring Paul Martinson with him," said Vi, after
trying vainly for half an hour to fix her mind on an essay she must hand
in the next morning. "He's ever so much fun, don't you think?"
It was in Paul Martinson's motor boat, which he had named the _Shelling_
in honor of Captain Shelling, who was master of the Military Academy,
that the boys had visited the girls on Lighthouse Island the summer
before.
Paul Martinson was a splendid-looking, fine boy whom all the girls
liked--Rose Belser, in particular--but who, himself, seemed to prefer
Billie. Like Teddy, Paul thought that Billie was the "very best sport"
he knew, and declared that "a fellow can have more fun with her any day
than he can with another boy."
Of course Teddy did not like this a bit. Having known Billie practically
all his life, he naturally felt that he should have first right to her.
And so there was a good-natured rivalry between the boys that amused
Billie and Vi and Laura and rather piqued Rose Belser and Connie Danvers
and some of the other girls at the school, who thought that Billie had
more than her share.
"For," as Connie declared once to a sympathetic group of girls, "it's
ever so much more fun to be paddled around in a canoe by a boy than to
have to paddle yourself, and it's lots of fun to skate with them because
they fairly haul you along. And here when we haven't nearly enough to go
around, Billie goes and takes two of the nicest ones. She's a darling,
of course, but I think she might be content with one!"
And so when Vi had happened to mention innocently that Paul was ever so
much fun, Rose Belser, who was preparing for a botany quiz at the other
end of the room, looked up and made a face at her.
"How do we know whether he's any fun or not?" she said. "You had better
ask Billie."
But Billie was too busy studying so that she might be free for the next
day's fun to hear, and Rose's shot was lost.
As though autumn had regretted giving way to winter so soon, it had been
unexpectedly warm that day and the girls had worried for fear a thaw
might spoil their sledding. But a cold wind rose in the night and the
morning dawned clear and cold enough to suit even them.
As soon as breakfast was over the coasters donned sweaters and caps and
mufflers and ran down into the storeroom next the gymnasium to get their
sleds. Then up once more and out into the bright morning sunshine, their
cheeks glowing with health and their eyes sparkling with anticipation of
the fun ahead of them!
There were twenty-five of them in all, but as they filed out of the side
door of the school they looked like a small army.
"Isn't it funny," giggled Laura to Billie, "how many more of the girls
turn out when they know the boys are going to be there?"
"It's sad but true," admitted Billie, with an answering chuckle. "After
that first heavy snowfall when we said something about an all-girls'
sledding party, they didn't seem awfully anxious about it. Said it was
too early in the season and they hated dragging sleds up the hill."
"Now I suppose they will expect the boys to do the dragging," laughed
Vi.
When they had climbed almost to the top of the hill that made such a
fine toboggan they heard the sound of boys' voices.
"Goodness, they must have started before breakfast," said Connie
Danvers, who was puffing with the effort to get her plump little body
and her heavy sled up the steep incline. "Say, give me a lift, will you,
Billie? This hill is so slippery."
"You mean that you're getting too fat," said Laura wickedly, as she
reached over and grabbed Connie's line. "I told you you were eating too
much candy."
Billie reached the top of the hill first and with dancing eyes she
looked down at the long, steep, ice-covered incline. The slight thaw of
the day before had been the one thing needed to perfect the sledding.
For the surface of the snow had melted, then frozen over again, forming
a solid coat of ice.
As she took this all in gleefully, the first of the boys emerged from
the trees at the foot of the hill and an impish impulse seized her.
With a shout of warning she pulled up her sled, flung herself upon it,
gave a little push, and was off! Down the hill she hurtled at a terrific
rate of speed, the glaze of ice forming almost no resistance to her
flight.
Taken by surprise, the boys had no more than time to get out of the way
before she literally dropped among them.
She swung off to the right, where an abrupt rise of ice-covered ground
checked her speed, and, after almost reaching the top of this small
hill, the back runners of the sled were caught in the ice and she was
tumbled head over heels, to land in an undignified heap at the boys'
feet.
Then she sat up, rubbed her head and smiled at them gleefully.
"I went some that time, didn't I?" she said.
"Yes, and you might have broken your neck, too," said Teddy, in an
awfully gruff voice, as he took both her hands and pulled her to her
feet. The other boys were looking on in admiration at Billie's feat.
"Don't you know you should never have taken that turn to the right? That
hill's too steep."
"I know it is--_now_," said Billie ruefully, feeling, for the first time
the horrible suspicion that she had skinned her knee.
"You should have taken one of these paths," spoke up Chet, pushing his
way through the crowd of boys and regarding Billie sternly, as an older
brother should. "I thought you knew that."
"Of course I know that," returned Billie, mimicking Chet's tone to
perfection. "But will you please tell me how I could take either one of
the paths when both of them were chock full of boys?"
The paths about which they spoke branched off from the foot of the hill.
One had been an old wagon road which had become overgrown with bushes
and stubble and the other was only a foot path. Nevertheless, either one
was wide enough to permit easily a sled to pass through and the ground
was level for a long enough distance to allow the sleds to come to an
easy standstill.
From the top of the hill the girls had been watching Billie's escapade,
and now as she started with the boys up the long slope they looked at
one another, smiling.
"Goodness, there she goes again!" sighed Connie plaintively. "She isn't
satisfied with two of the boys any more. Now she has the whole crowd of
them!"