To briefly mention the mystery of Amy, I might say that she was picked up when an infant, afloat on a raft in a flood in a western city. Pinned to her baby dress was an envelope containing the name of Mr. Stonington of Deepdale. He had been telegraphed for, and took charge of the infant. It was supposed that the mother of the baby was a distant relative of Mrs. Stonington, for the latter had a cousin who resided in the western city. It was believed that, finding herself about to perish, the mother did what she could to insure the salvation of her child, and pinned a note to her dress so that relatives would look after her if the baby was saved. But only the envelope was found, together with an old and torn diary that gave no tangible clue. And this was the mystery of Amy's life. As I have said, after living for years in the belief that Mr. and Mrs. Stonington were her parents, they had told her the truth. Now it seemed that there was to be another change. "Oh, but why must it be so?" mourned poor Amy. "Why can't I be like other girls?" The tears rushed to her eyes. She could not see, and she skated rapidly on, only wanting to get away. She heard the ringing of steel runners behind her, but would not turn. Then a voice--a boy's voice--called: "Look out! Look out where you're going, Amy! The ice is thin up there, and you're going right toward an air-hole! There's danger! Look out!" If Amy heard she gave no sign nor heed. On she skated, and then the voice behind her called in startled tones: "What do you mean? Amy, turn! Turn back before it is too late! You'll be drowned!" The skater behind fairly rushed forward, for he had seen what the tear-blinded girl had not--black water showing through a hole in the ice. And Amy was headed directly for this opening. CHAPTER II A FINE CHANCE "That Alice Jallow is certainly the meanest girl in Deepdale!" declared Mollie, with vehemence. "And Kittie isn't much better," added Grace, with spirit. "I don't see how Margaret can go with them." "She's a newcomer here, that's the reason," said Betty--bouncing Betty she was now, for she was whirling about and "teetering" on her skates in a dizzying fashion. "When she gets to know those girls she won't have any more to do with them than--we do." "And there was a time, even after they made those first slurring remarks about Amy, that they seemed real nice," spoke Grace. "It was too good to last," asserted Mollie. "Oh--the cat!" Mollie shot out the word as though she would like to exercise some of the proclivities of a feline herself, and scratch. "What possessed her to stop where she did, and talk loud enough for Amy to hear?" asked Grace. "It's hard to tell," decided Betty with a sigh. "Shall we go after her?" and she nodded in the direction taken by Amy, who could not now be seen because of the intervening crowds. "No; best let her cry it out, poor child," said Mollie, softly. "She was crying when she skated away."