Margaret's capsized early in the course. Francis' and Marie Jean's crept along side by side, Theodore's and John Thomas' collided, and Miss Billy's travelled independently and speedily across the tub despite the sly efforts of Ted to turn its course. There was much teasing and laughing before the boats dropped their anchors. Theodore, who carried the tub to the kitchen, returned with a small iron vessel, a long-handled spoon, and a cup of water. "This is the truest test of fate," he announced. "The melted lead dropped into the water will foretell every man's destiny with neatness and despatch. Strike, while the iron--and lead--is hot. Your turn first, 'oh rare pale Margaret.'" The group left the fudge to the mercy of the fire and surrounded Theodore. The lead dropped into the cup of water, and Ted peeped cautiously into the bottom. "The fates speak truly," he announced solemnly. "It's a cabbage--thrown at your first concert, I suppose. Miss Marie Jean, the next spoonful is for you. Here it is, but I'll be switched if I know _what_ it is." John Thomas peered over his shoulder. "It's a hand glass," he announced. "So it is," assented Ted. "I suppose you'll be a professional beauty like Mme. de Staël or Maxine Elliott. You may take the lead for a memento. Beatrice, step up to the front. Hail, all hail, you have won--a man,--a nice big fellow with a football." "That must be you, Francis," said John Thomas, looking up at the tall athlete at his side. Beatrice looked annoyed, and Francis' usually calm face reddened suddenly. Miss Billy's quick wits detected confusion in the air, and she stepped forward hastily. "Now me," she said. Theodore dropped a spoonful of lead in the water, and it sank with a heavy thump. "The man with a hoe! Or perhaps it's Mr. Schultzsky with his crutch instead," announced Ted. "This is for you, John Thomas--a nice round dollar. That means that one of these days you'll have money instead of lead to put in the fire.... Now Mr. Lindsay, leave your griddle and behold." "A lead maiden!" said Margaret, as the metal hardened into a graceful shape in the bottom of the cup. "A bride, I declare! See her bouquet." "Last but not least," announced Ted cheerfully, "is the fate of Mr. Theodore Somers Lee, one of the most charming and delightful members of our little circle. He deserves the best that the gods can provide. What have we here? A book! I bet it's a Bible. I have always had a secret longing for the life of a missionary. There's a cry from Macedonia, and I shall turn out immediately." "It's more likely to be a bed than a Bible," announced Miss Billy witheringly. "Then you'll turn in, not out." "Why is a boy pigeon-toed at night?" improvised Theodore. "Because he turns in." There was a chorus of groans in reply. "That is the way we roast chestnuts on Hallowe'en," said Francis wickedly. "Isn't it time to put on the pancakes?" said John Thomas. "The fudge is almost done."