CHAPTER VII
BETTY'S DUCKING
Betty was bored. The impatient look in her eyes and the disgustedexpression of her mouth could be described by no other word.
She leaned dejectedly against a big tree on the edge of the pond andwatched the girls skate round and round in dizzy circles. A white boy'ssweater enveloped her slender body and accentuated the forlorn droop ofher shoulders. Her white berry cap was pulled rakishly over one ear.
There was nothing apparently in the scene before her to warrantdissatisfaction. The sky showed a cloudless front, the sun was shiningwith determined cheerfulness over the snow-covered grounds, and the pondwas frozen over with smooth mirror-like ice that beckoned invitingly tothe most exacting skater.
Her wish of the previous chapter, that the rain would freeze, wascertainly fulfilled.
Besides, it was Saturday morning, study hour was over, and the rest ofthe glorious day was free, yet, despite all these blessings, Betty wasbored.
Polly and Lois, who were among the laughing group of girls on the ice,separated themselves from the rest and skated over to her.
"What's the matter, Bet, why aren't you skating?" questioned Lois.
Betty pulled off a strip of bark from the tree, broke it up into littlepieces and threw them one by one into the pond.
"What's the use?" she answered. "I'm sick to death of going round andround and round again on this silly pond, stumbling every minute oversome girl that doesn't know how to skate."
Polly and Lois exchanged glances.
"Why, Betty, you're positively peevish; what side of the bed did you getout of?" Polly laughed.
"Perhaps I am; anyhow, I'm sick of this. Why can't we skate on the riverwhere there's more room?"
"I suppose we could, if we got enough girls together, found a chaperoneand got permission," said Lois slowly.
"Oh! but wouldn't that be wonderful!" Polly exclaimed, "let's do it."
Betty brightened up, and looked a little more cheerful at the prospectof a lark.
"Who'll we get to go?" she demanded, now thoroughly alive.
"Angela and Connie."
"They can't skate well enough."
"Never mind, let's ask them."
"Oh, all right, who else?"
"We don't want too many."
"How about Louise?"
"And Florence?"
"Of course, if they'll come."
"That makes seven."
"Isn't that enough?"
"Who for chaperone?"
"Miss Stuart."
"She's sick."
"Miss King then."
"The Infirmary's full, she wouldn't be able to."
"Miss Porter?"
"She's gone to New York with the other teachers, to the opera."
"I forgot, who's left?"
"The Spartan."
"Never!" objected Betty strenuously, "it can't be--why, we'd no soonerget to the river than her feet would be cold, or her nose or her hands,and we'd have to turn back; besides, she doesn't skate."
"All the better," Lois said; "we can build her a nice little fire andmake her quite comfy on shore, out of the breeze, and then leave her."
"Now, Bet, don't be so particular, she's our only hope," reminded Polly.
After a good deal of persuasive arguing, Betty finally consented, andthey started off to ask the other girls.
They found Angela and Connie coasting on the big hill.
"Wait a second, you two," Betty called to them.
They pulled their sleds off the track into a snow bank and came over toher.
"What do you want?" asked Connie; "isn't the coasting great?"
"Yes, but the skating is better," said Lois, "specially on the river."
"Elucidate," said Angela.
Polly began:
"Well, it's this way," she explained; "Betty's in a fearful mood, theworst possible stage of grouch, nothing suits her. The pond's too small,and she objects to the girls who don't know how to skate as well as shedoes; she says they're in her way. Well, there's nothing for her but towalk it off. We thought a select, mind, a very select number of girlsand a chaperone, and an afternoon on the river, where she'd have plentyof room, might soothe her. Will you and Connie come?"
"With the solemn understanding that if you crack the whip, I don't haveto be end man," answered Connie, thinking of the many times she had beensent spinning across the ice.
"I'll go because it's a select party," laughed Angela. "And because I'mtired of this hill. Who else is going?"
"We thought we'd ask Louise and Florence, and perhaps they'll want someof the other Seniors; we had to have some old girls along and they'rethe nicest," Betty told her.
"Have you got permission?"
"Not yet."
"Who's going to chaperone?"
"The Spartan."
"You're joking."
"We are not."
"But--"
"She's the only one left, the rest of the faculty are in New York, orbusy."
"Who's to ask her?"
It was Angela who asked the question, and Lois pointing at her answered:
"You."
"Never!"
"You must!"
"But why?"
"Because you are the only one who has recited intelligently in class forthe past week."
Angela gasped in astonishment tinged with amusement.
"It's a plot," she announced tragically, "and I'm the victim. Oh, verywell, I'll do it," she ended stoically as if the deed in view was one ofawful villainy.
"Be very polite to her," cautioned Polly. "Tell her we want her verymuch, and don't let her say no. Bet, you have to ask Mrs. Baird."
"Oh, make Lois."
"No, you have to, Lo and I are going to ask Louise and Florence."
"I like that--"
"Come on, we must hurry," Lois interrupted her, catching Polly's arm andstarting for the house.
Angela followed holding tightly to Connie, who she insisted had to comewith her to back her up.
"I'll meet you in your room, Lo," Betty called over her shoulder as sheparted from the rest under the Bridge of Sighs, on her way to Mrs.Baird's office.
Polly and Lois left Angela and Connie waiting to learn if the permissionwere granted before venturing to ask the Spartan, and hurried on toSenior Alley.
They found Louise and Florence in the latter's room, studying.
They were delighted with the idea when Polly explained it to them, saidthey didn't care to include any of the other Seniors, and stopped workto go up to Lois' room and wait for Betty. They had been there only afew minutes when she burst in upon them.
"It's all right, we can go," she announced delightedly. "Mrs. Baird wasadorable about it, she suggested that we take a couple of the oldergirls, and I told her we were going to ask Louise and Florence. She saidthat was good, and she smiled; I know she wanted to laugh when I toldher we were going to ask the Spartan to chaperone."
This was true; Betty's face had been so cast down when she explainedthat Miss Hale was the only available teacher, that Mrs. Baird, whounderstood girls as few women can, had difficulty in suppressing asmile.
At that moment Angela and Connie entered the room.
"She won't go," they announced in unison, "says she feels a cold comingon."
"I knew it!"
"That's too mean."
"There's not another teacher left."
"What'll we do?"
"Leave it to me," Louise said slowly. "I think I can fix it, I'll gotalk to her. Wait here for me." And she was gone.
The girls waited, carrying on a fragmentary conversation, and in lessthan fifteen minutes Louise returned. She was met by a volley ofquestions:
"Will she go?"
"What did she say?"
"Tell us the worst."
"How did you fix it?"
She put both fingers in her ears in protest.
"Stop talking so much and I'll tell you," she said. "Miss Hale is notgoing, but Mrs. Baird is.
"
"No!"
"Really!"
"She's a darling."
"What a lark."
The girls were overcome with surprise and delight.
Lois managed to say a whole sentence without being interrupted.
"Louise, you're a wonder, how did you ever manage it!"
"I explained about Miss Hale's cold and asked her if she could think ofany one else. She suggested going herself and of course I wouldn't leaveuntil I'd made her promise that she would."
"Does she skate?" inquired Angela.
"She used to, but she said she didn't think she would today. She's goingto take a book along."
"We'll build her a fire," said Lois.
"Out of the wind," added Polly.
"Let's take a steamer rug," Betty said, not to be outdone, and the restadded other suggestions.
The plans that had been offered earlier in the morning for the utterobliteration of the Spartan were now converted into plans for the easeand comfort of Mrs. Baird.
At three o'clock every one was ready to start, the girls armed withskates and hockey sticks. Mrs. Baird, dressed in a rough tweed walkingsuit, carried a book, and looked, save for her gray hair, as young aseither of the Seniors.
"Come along," she called, "we've a long walk ahead of us and time isflying." And off they started.
The steep descent that led to the river from Seddon Hall proved to be,not only long, but very tedious. The path was completely hidden by thesnow, and an unseen tree root or stone caused many a trip up thatterminated in a long slide down hill.
It was so funny to see some one suddenly plunge up to their waist indeep snow, and then roll, arms and legs in the air, for five or tenfeet, that the girls were in hysterics most of the walk.
When the river was finally reached without mishap and too much loss oftime, they were weak from laughing.
"Well," announced Mrs. Baird, tears of mirth in her eyes; she had hadher share of troubles too, "we will not go back that way, we would neverreach home. We'll go through the village by way of the station. Nowdon't bother about me, get on your skates," she added, as she saw thegirls spreading out a steamer rug and collecting bits of wood for afire.
But they insisted on making her comfortable first.
Polly and Betty made a fire and Louise and Florence fixed the rug in asmall enclosure made by a clump of bushes, and situated directly under abig overhanging rock.
When these preparations were over, Mrs. Baird settled down comfortablyand opened her book, and the girls put on their skates.
"Say what you please," said Polly, "it's not as smooth here as it was onthe pond, and there's a crack over there."
This was true. The sun had been shining steadily, and in spots the icehad melted on the river, leaving an inch or so of slush on the surface.
"Never mind, we can keep away from it, we've the whole place toourselves," exulted Betty, looking out over the expanse of ice, and notseeing a single person in sight. "Come on!"
Off they glided each by herself, at first, to get the swing. Then theyorganized a hockey game, and for a while they skated furiously.
"Fifth time for you, Bet, you're a wonder," Florence called as Bettysent the flat disc sailing past Angela, through the goal posts that wereserving in place of cages.
"Oh! I can't stop those, they come too fast; somebody change places withme," said Angela. "This is too strenuous for me."
"Oh, nonsense," cried Polly. "Get in the game, Ange, come on up in thecenter, I'll play guard, if you like."
"All right."
"Everybody ready?"
"Play."
"Zip," sang the puck, darting here and there, in obedience to the click,click of the busy hockey sticks.
Florence and Lois were fighting over it. Polly, Betty, Connie and Louisetried to interfere, and for a minute there was a wild skirmish. In theexcitement, Angela, who was hovering around the outside, got in someone's way and fell flat.
"Stop, Ange is down."
"What did you do that for?" Angela demanded, as she sat up and rubbedher back. "I thought I was keeping out of it."
"Did you hurt yourself?"
"No, not much, but I've had enough."
"So have I."
"What will we do next?"
"Let's crack the whip," suggested Betty. "You lead, Con."
"Not I, I can't go fast enough."
"Louise, you lead."
"All right, who's on the end."
Lois opened her mouth to speak and stopped. She was looking overLouise's shoulder. Coming toward her were four boys dressed in theuniform of the Military School that was situated on another hill alongthe Hudson, about five miles north of Seddon Hall. She knew who theywere at once, for she had often passed groups of them in the village, ormet them when out on a straw ride.
"Look," she said in an undertone, for the boys were already within earshot.
The girls turned.
"Oh! the dickens," exclaimed Betty crossly, "why couldn't they have gonesomewhere else?"
Mrs. Baird had also seen the new arrivals and noticed the girls'hesitation. She beckoned Louise to her side.
"Don't pay any attention to them," she said, "and I'm sure they won'tdisturb you."
Louise nodded and returned to the girls.
"Let's play hockey again," she suggested.
"What about the boys?" inquired Connie.
"Don't pay any attention to them."
"Well, come on, let's start," Florence whirled into position. ButAngela's eyes were glued to the group of boys.
"Stop staring," Betty whispered.
"I can't help it, I never saw a boy with redder hair." Instinctivelythey all turned.
"Carrots."
"Brick top."
"Stop, this is terrible, let's start something."
"All right, get ready."
"Go!"
They took their positions and were again skirmishing after the puck.
"Oh, let's quit, I'm dead," Angela pleaded weakly, after they had playedfor a time. She had been buffeted about until she was completely winded.
"All right, lazy, you rest and we'll crack the whip," teased Betty.
As she said it, she took a chance whack at the puck with her hockeystick and sent it spinning. Over the ice it flew, while the girls lookedon in fascinated horror, for it was heading directly for the boys, andnever stopped until it had landed at the feet of the red-headed one.
"Betty!" gasped Lois.
Angela giggled outright. Then, for almost a minute there was absolutesilence. All eyes were centered on the puck.
At last the red-headed boy lifted his stick and sent it back.
Betty called "Thank you ever so much," and he answered:
"Don't mention it," and pulled off his military cap, completelyuncovering his fiery head. Then he and his friends skated off in theopposite direction.
"It is red, and no mistake," laughed Florence.
"It's a wonder it doesn't melt the ice," Angela answered. "What's thematter, Bet?" she added.
"You're all very unkind, he can't help it," Betty replied, straighteningup. "I'm sure he's most polite. I like him," she finished decidedly.
The girls didn't know whether to tease her or not, so, to change thesubject, Louise suggested the forgotten game.
"Get ready for crack the whip," she said. "Bet, you lead."
"All right, get ready--"
"Who's on the end!"
"Polly."
"Go ahead--"
The girls put their hands on one another's shoulders, forming a longline, and Betty started off, skating fast and keeping straight ahead.Suddenly, when everybody was going like the wind she gave a sharp turnto the right and the girls went pell mell in every direction.
It was loads of fun and very invigorating. They played it over and overagain, each girl taking a turn to lead.
"Polly's first this time," called Louise, "and Betty's last."
"Be merciful, Poll," Betty panted, taking hold of Lois' shou
lders.
"I will not," laughed Polly. "Get ready--Go!"
Off they started for perhaps the sixth time. They were now well out fromshore, and in places the ice was quite slushy. Polly raced ahead, nevergiving a thought about anything but the joy of sailing along with thewind in her face.
As she made the quick turn, the ice under their feet gave a sickeninglongdrawn "whirr-r" followed by a sharp crack.
For a minute there was pandemonium--what followed came very much moreswiftly than it can be told.
There was a wild dash for firm ice--a startled scream and then thehorrible picture of Betty struggling, and up to her neck in the water.
Lois and Polly made frantic efforts to reach her, but at every attemptthe ice gave another warning crack.
Mrs. Baird, on the shore, called desperately for help, and the othergirls stood rigid with fear.
It seemed an eternity, and then, the red-headed boy came, quickly,purposefully, and took command. He sent his friends for ropes andboards, while he himself lay down flat on the ice and wormed his waytowards Betty.
She was still keeping up. Luckily the hole was small and she was wedgedin between two big chunks of ice.
Lois and Polly stood helpless, waiting. Finally he called to them: "Getthe rest and form a chain to me. Some one catch hold of my feet--Easynow."
The girls obeyed quickly and he crawled along until he could touchBetty. Very skillfully he took hold of her under her arms.
"Don't struggle," he warned her. "You're all right." And mustering everybit of his strength, he pulled her gently on to the ice beside him. "Nowpull me back," he ordered.
When his friends returned with the rope, she was safe on shore rolled upin the steamer rug, and Mrs. Baird was beside her. He was the center ofan admiring and relieved crowd of girls, who were all talking at once.
Still master of the occasion he dispatched one of his friends for acarriage, and another for a warm drink. "And," he added severely, afterhe had given them their directions, "don't be so blame long about itthis time."
The warm drink arrived first--it was in a flask--and Mrs. Bairdadministered it sparingly.
Then the carriage arrived and she left Betty and came over to theothers.
"You have been splendid," she said to the red-headed boy. "I have nowords in which to thank you. I shudder to think what we would have donewithout you." She pressed his hand gratefully. "Thank you," sherepeated, with a hint of tears in her voice.
The red-headed boy, though a hero, was easily embarrassed.
"Oh, please," he stammered, "it was all right. Nothing at all. Here, letme help you get her in the carriage," he added hastily, glad of anythingthat would put a stop to these embarrassing thanks, and because hewanted one more look at Betty.
This wish was of course mere curiosity. If a chap saves a girl's life,surely he had the right to know what she looked like, or so he arguedwith himself.
"Thank you, if you will," Mrs. Baird replied.
And together they lifted Betty into the back of the carriage. Thesteamer rug enveloped her like a mummy cloth, but as they got her safelyon the seat, one corner of it fell away, and revealed to the red-headedboy her white face and blue lips, that tried so bravely to smile up intohis eyes.
The carriage jogged off at a snail's pace--Mrs. Baird knelt on the floorbeside Betty, the girls walked along the road easily keeping up with it.
The red-headed boy watched the queer procession; he still held his hatin his hand, and his flaming hair was the last thing the girls saw.
Hours later, safe in the infirmary, surrounded by hot water bottles andwoolly blankets, Betty opened her eyes--she had been asleep--andencountered those of Mrs. Baird.
"What was his name?" she asked drowsily.
"My darling child, I forgot to ask him!" exclaimed Mrs. Baird; "how veryremiss of me."
Betty's gaze wandered around the room, then her eyes closed again.
"Doesn't matter," she said slowly. "He'd always have been just thered-headed boy to me."