A mocking laugh answered him, and there stood Jack Frost as fierce, as cold, as dangerous as ever. Fast as they had flown, he had travelled faster, and was waiting for them. So, of course, they were all in the depths of despair. Jack Frost blew a shrill blast on a silver whistle and in a moment they were surrounded by a legion of his Ice-Guards, so escape was out of the question. Maida looked to the Man with the Growly Voice as if to beg him for protection. To her surprise he did not seem to be in the least afraid; he actually winked at her, as he unslung his can of climate and commenced to fiddle with the little keys and dials on it. And her heart leaped with joy, for she felt that in some way he would get them all out of the trouble. Well, to begin with, they all came in for a good lecture. Jack Frost just gave it to Billy and Santa Claus for not staying at home where they belonged and making toys. Then he scolded the White Lady severely. It seemed that once upon a time he had asked her to leave the service of Aurora Borealis and come and be Queen of the North Wind, which she refused (and I don’t blame her--do you?), so when he saw her with the Disconsolate Lover, he was very, very angry. After he got through with those two he turned his attention to Kankakee and the Eskimos, lectured them for guiding strangers into the Forbidden Land, and to make it worse he lectured them in Eskimo talk, so I can’t begin to tell you what he said--but it sounded dreadful--even the dogs howled mournfully. Then it was Maida’s turn; and as his eye lighted on her, she felt that shivery feeling in her hair dreadfully. When she was at home Maida had been scolded by mama and Aunt Mary, and once in a while by the cook when she ventured into the kitchen. At school she had been reprimanded once or twice by the Teacher--and the big Policeman on the corner--(his name was Murphy, and oh, how she wished he was by her side for he wasn’t afraid of anything)--well, Murphy had talked to her severely when she slipped across the street in front of the trolley car instead of waiting for him to lead her over. But never, oh, never, had anybody given her such a scolding as she got from Jack Frost. I can’t begin to tell you all he said, so I won’t tell you any of it--but when he finished poor Maida was sure she was the most foolish and wicked little girl who ever tried to find the North Pole. And all the time the Man with the Growly Voice was tinkering with the Can of Climate and turning little handles and pressing little levers. Maida was on pins and needles, for something seemed to have gone wrong. [Illustration: In the Cake of Ice]