Laura, who was skating between them, let go their hands for a moment to fasten her sweater still more closely about her throat. The wind had stung her face to a vivid red. “I must say you both sound cheerful,” she said reproachfully, adding with a gay little toss of her head: “From the way this wind feels, I’d say we were going to have ice all winter.” “Don’t wake her up, she is dreaming,” sang Billie mockingly, adding, as Laura gave her a push that would have unbalanced a less skillful skater: “Who ever heard of Lake Molata being frozen over all winter?” “Well, who ever heard of its being frozen over in the middle of November?” Laura retorted, adding with a grin as Billie looked nonplussed: “I guess that will hold you for a while.” “Laura Jordon,” said Vi, folding her mittened hands and trying to look very prim and teacher-like, “report to Miss Walters immediately. That is the third time you have used slang this morning.” The girls giggled, and this time it was Vi who got the push. “Go long with you,” said Billie gayly. “You can’t imitate the Dill Pickles in a red sweater and a green cap.” The Dill Pickles, as my old readers will remember, were two teachers, Miss Ada and Miss Cora Dill, who had recently lived at the Hall. The two had done their best to make the girls’ lives miserable and had finally, after the students had revolted and marched out of the school, been sent away by Miss Walters. The vacancies had been filled by teachers who were as different from the Miss Dills in every way as they could be, and since then life at Three Towers Hall had been one happy round of study and fun for the girls. “Thank goodness the Dills have gone forever,” said Vi, in response to Billie’s observation. “Yes,” agreed Laura, reminiscently. “It was a lot of trouble, getting rid of them, but it was worth it.” “There are only nice teachers up at the Hall now,” said Billie, contentedly. “Especially Miss Arbuckle.” “Isn’t she ducky?” said Laura, enthusiastically, if disrespectfully. “I was afraid she might change her mind and take up her old job of governess to those two kiddies.” “I wouldn’t have blamed her much, if she had,” Vi said, with a chuckle. “She might make the little children behave, while with us——” “She hasn’t a chance,” giggled Billie. “Just the same,” put in Laura, with unusual gravity, “you notice that we all do what Miss Arbuckle says. She isn’t stern like Miss Race, either, nor nasty like the Dill Pickles used to be. I guess we just obey her because we all like her,” she finished simply. “That’s right, and——” Billie was saying when suddenly the ice cracked under her skates and with a cry she lunged forward. Luckily her feet struck on solid ice beyond the cracked part, and with difficulty she regained her balance. “The ice!” she gasped, as Laura and Vi stared at her. “I struck a thin spot, I guess. Goodness, that scared me!”