"Were you looking for me?" she asked. "Louise Preston told me that there was to be a paper chase and that you'd tell me what to do."

"Oh good, then you know," answered Lois. "Come on back to the corridor,"

she suggested; and slipping her arm around Polly's shoulder, asked:

"You're not homesick, are you!"

Polly smiled curiously, and half closed her eyes.

"Not now," she answered truthfully.

A few minutes before three about thirty girls in sweaters and caps were waiting on the steps of the gym.

Louise Preston and Florence Guile, eagerly a.s.sisted by Lois and Betty, and helpfully, though a little less eagerly by Connie and Angela, were dividing the party into hares and hounds.

"All old girls to the right of the steps, all new girls to the left,"

ordered Florence. "New girls are hares, old girls, hounds."

"But doesn't some one go with us?" questioned Flora Illington, timidly.

She was one of the new girls for whom Mrs. Baird considered a paper chase necessary.

Florence turned to consult Louise, but it was Betty who answered:

"Certainly not," she said decidedly. "You are entirely on your 'own'; choose a leader, and run in any direction."

"But we might get lost," Flora persisted, almost tearfully looking for support to the rest of the hares.

"You can't," Betty a.s.sured her; "don't cross any stone walls and you'll be all right. The stone walls are the school boundaries, you can't miss them. Besides, we're sure to find you."

Flora subsided doubtfully, and Louise called:

"Choose your leader."

After a good deal of hesitancy, for the new girls were a little uncertain of one another, Polly Pendleton was selected because she was already generally liked, and partly because she seemed to be thoroughly acquainted with the rules of paper chases.

As Betty gave her the bag of paper she whispered:

"Good luck, and be sure not to go out of bounds."

Polly slung the bag over her shoulder as she answered:

"We won't; how much start do we get?"

"Fifteen minutes," Lois replied, hearing the question and adding, regretfully, "I wish you could go with the hounds."

Just then Louise blew the whistle, and Polly, calling the hares to attention, started off at a dog trot in the direction of the woods.

The hounds, left alone, grouped themselves on the steps to wait until the fifteen minutes were up.

"The trouble with these first races," Connie remarked with a yawn, "is that they are so easy. The hares never know where to go, and we find them a few feet from the pond, and then it's all over. Flora's idea of having an old girl lead them wasn't so bad."

"What! and change a memorable Seddon Hall custom!" exclaimed Angela, jumping to her feet. "Con, I always said you'd no heart, and now I know it. Besides, it's the best thing in the world for the new girls."

"Something tells me, that with Polly Pendleton as a leader they may not be so easy to find this year," Lois mused, gazing along the thin white streak that marked the trail of the hares and disappeared into the depths of the wood beyond.

"Time to start," announced Louise after consulting the gym clock-and the chase began.

An hour later in the heart of the woods, the hounds stopped to consult.

Without doubt Lois' prophecy had been fulfilled. The tracking of the hounds had not been easy.

"Where under the sun do you suppose they are?" demanded Betty. "We've been going 'round and 'round in a circle and there's not a sign of them."

"I'll admit I'm completely stumped," said Florence. "This track leads from here to the apple orchard, over the bridge, around to the farm, through the pasture and back to here. Where do we go next?"

"What did I tell you?" asked Lois. "I knew Polly would give us a chase."

"H'm, so did I," Betty agreed, "but I didn't think she'd do it as well as this."

The shadows of the trees lengthening out over the rich black ground gave warning of the approaching sunset.

The hounds looked puzzled.

"Perhaps they have been doubling on the trail, and we've been chasing them around the circle-I say let's go back the way we came, perhaps we'll meet them," suggested Connie.

They all thought this a likely solution, and in a minute they were again in marching order, ready to retrace their steps.

Connie's conjecture was quite true, as far as it went-that was, however, not quite far enough to reach the hares.

Polly, to whom all woods were an open book, once out of sight of the gym, had found her way by various paths to the orchard and, by keeping to the right she discovered the bridge.

"What a piece of luck," she exclaimed to the girls who were running beside her, adding, in explanation:

"If we can only make a circle and come back here, they will never find us-we can stand under the bridge, the brook's almost dry and there are loads of stones."

The other hares, only too eager to be led, acquiesced at once.

Off they started, keeping well to the right, past the farm, and through the pasture, leaving the tiny line of white that later dumbfounded the pursuing hounds. On they sped to the orchard and panting, but delighted, they again reached the bridge.

"Everybody underneath and don't make a sound," Polly warned them, "and keep well to the end so they won't see us as they come along; our only danger is, that they may notice the short trail that leads down here."

They waited for what seemed an age, balancing themselves on slippery stones, very much excited, but very still, save for an occasionally suppressed giggle.

In a few minutes they heard the thump, thump of the approaching hounds and held their breath as the bridge shook over their heads.

"Safe," whispered some one as the sound grew fainter in the distance:

"Where next?"

"Here, of course," replied Polly; "we mustn't move, they are sure to come back."