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Updated: May 24, 2025
"If you had only put some one else in my place " began Eustice Gray uncomfortably, but seven voices immediately shouted to him, in friendly chorus to "dry up." "We'll make Plummers Lane look sick," declared Jack. "From the looks of it, I don't think there's been a shovel down here since the first snow. If the S. C. thinks they have marked more off for us than we can clean up, we'll show them!
"Why I thought there were twelve in each gang." "There were," said Jack briefly. "But, you see, it is holiday week, and no one wants to work. The only five I can get are Norman Cox, Eustice Gray, Jerry and Fred Gordon and Ben Kelsey. I'm the sixth. Two of the others are away and the rest are going on a sleighing trip up to the woods." "Where's Frank Fenton?" demanded Rosemary.
"Libbie, let that be a warning to you Ruth Gladys Royal is terribly romantic, too!" Miss Anderson, smiling and unhurried, marshaled her charges into the large foyer and announced that they would be assigned to rooms before luncheon. "Mrs. Eustice will speak to you in the assembly hall this afternoon," said Miss Anderson. "And you will meet her and the teachers for a little social hour."
But Ada refused to be mollified, and she remained indifferent to the shrieks of delight that greeted the first powdering of snow. Thanksgiving morning saw the first flakes. The holiday was happily celebrated at Shadyside, very few of the girls going home. Mrs. Eustice preferred to add the time to the Christmas vacation, and the girls had found that this plan added to their enjoyment.
"It says 'Leave ten dollars in this same place to-night, or Mrs. Eustice shall hear of this. And, of course," concluded Libbie, "I put ten dollars in the bottle, because whoever found it had the slip with my name on it to show Mrs. Eustice." Betty studied the paper. The handwriting was a strong backhand, not at all an illiterate hand. "Oh, dear, what shall I do?" wailed Libbie.
"Ah, your mother wrote me of you," was the principal's greeting to the Littell girls. "You look like her, Louise. And Bobby is much like her father as I remember him." "This is Betty Gordon," said the loyal Bobby, indicating her chum. "Mother wrote about her, too, didn't she?" "Indeed she did," assented Mrs. Eustice warmly.
Eustice had a hot white anger of her own that a pupil who once witnessed it could never forget. "Well, Ada?" came Miss Anderson's voice at the end of the three minutes. Ada hastily stumbled through a shame-faced apology, painful to listen to, and then, the angry tears running down her face, turned and dashed from the room. "Ready, Betty," said Miss Anderson briskly.
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