"To-morrow, and I meant to tell you and Lois, but it slipped my mind,"

Mrs. Baird told her.

"Then you wanted us for something else?" Betty asked.

Mrs. Baird walked over and looked out of the window.

"Yes," she said, hesitating. "I am worried about the coasting this year. We have so many new girls and I don't want any accidents. Of course I couldn't forbid them to coast, so I thought up a scheme. You two girls have been here for a long time and know all about the hill. By the way, where's Lois?" she asked abruptly.

"Up in the studio," Polly said with a shrug of her shoulders, which meant to convey the idea that Lois had taken up her permanent abode there.

Mrs. Baird frowned. "She must not work so hard," she said, finally. "She should be out on such a glorious day. I'll speak to her about it."

"Oh, she'll come out in a little while," Betty hastened to say. "She's just talking to Miss Crosby."

"Oh, well! I'll leave you two to see that she does," Mrs. Baird said severely. "And now, about the coasting. I want you three girls, and any of the other Seniors, of course,"--she added, on second thought--"to watch every new girl go down the hill once, then if she is really not fit to coast, you must tell her. I'll leave the decision to you."

"You mean that if we don't think they really know enough about it, that we are to tell them they must keep off the big hill?" Polly asked. The idea struck her as a very good one--new girls were always a nuisance at first--but she wished the decision had been left to some one else.

"They can use the little hill, can't they?" Betty asked. "No one could hurt themselves on that."

Mrs. Baird nodded her head. "That I leave to you; you're much the better judge. Only do make haste, I am so afraid some one will be hurt. I saw little Phylis Guile almost run into a tree."

Polly and Betty promised to start at once. They went up to the studio and made Lois put away her brushes and join them. Then they told the Dorothys and Evelin and Mildred. Polly stationed them along the hill--Betty at the top, to judge of the start--the others along the way, while she and Lois watched the curve at the end.

They stayed at their posts all the afternoon, every now and then jotting down some girl's name and quietly telling them that they would have to do the rest of their coasting on the little hill. Sometimes they met with protests, but, for the most part their Senior dignity upheld them.

"What under the sun will we do about Jane and Phylis?" Polly asked.

"They'll kill themselves if they go down again, and if we just tell them they can't it will break their hearts."

Lois considered. "I've got it. We'll make it seem a favor to us."

"But how?" Polly demanded, as the two younger girls came flying recklessly around the turn.

"Leave that to me," Lois whispered. "Oh, Jane, will you and Phylis come here a minute? Polly and I have the greatest favor to ask of you. I wonder if you'll help us out?" she asked.

"Of course we will," they answered promptly. "We'll do anything."

Lois felt like a hypocrite, but she went on to explain:

"It's about coasting," she said. "You see, Mrs. Baird has asked us to tell all the new girls that are not used to such a dangerous hill, that they must coast on the small hill by the pond. Of course some of them are not even able to do that, and they ought to be watched." Lois stopped--took a long breath and looked appealingly at Polly.

"We thought you might be willing to go over and coast there, and sort of keep an eye out that no one is hurt," Polly said, coming to her rescue.

"We'll be so busy here."

"Why we'd love to," Jane said eagerly.

"We don't mind a bit," Phylis protested. "Are we to tell them to stop if we see any one that's reckless?"

"Mercy! No!" Lois exclaimed. She had a sudden vision of these two youngsters using their authority at every possible excuse. "That would hurt their feelings. Just use lots of tact and perhaps show them what to do, but not in a--in a--"

"I know," laughed Jane. "You mean don't be fresh the way we were to f.a.n.n.y. We won't."

"Oh," Polly sighed when they had hurried off. "What a wonder you are, Lois, and they really will help."

"Of course they will. Good gracious! Here comes f.a.n.n.y."

From where they stood they could see the long stretch of the hill, just before the curve. f.a.n.n.y, sitting bolt upright, an unforgivable sin--in Polly's eyes--was whirling down it. She had apparently lost all control of her sled. Polly and Lois held their breath.

On one side of the curve, a big rock jutted out at right angles to the road, and on the other a cobble stone gutter offered almost as dangerous an alternative. Fortunately, f.a.n.n.y, or rather f.a.n.n.y's sled, chose the latter. There was a second of flying snow mixed up somehow with f.a.n.n.y's arms and legs, and then quiet. Polly and Lois dashed to the spot.

"Are you hurt?" Lois demanded.

f.a.n.n.y sat up. "Well I never did," she said wonderingly. "What do you suppose happened to that little old sled?"

Polly's sudden relief took the form of anger.

"You had no right to try this hill," she said severely. "Did Betty see you start?"

f.a.n.n.y stiffened. "Yes, she did if you want to know," she said. "And she told me not to. But--" She paused to give her words better effect.

"Betty and you and Lois are not the only Seniors at this school, though you do act most mighty like you thought you were. I got my permission from the two Dorothys," she finished with a triumphant toss of her head.

Polly and Lois looked at each other in amazement. Something had come over f.a.n.n.y of late. They had noticed it, but other matters had made it seem unimportant. She had always been on hand for basket ball practice, but her att.i.tude had been sullen and she had spent most of her time with the Dorothys and Evelin.

Polly realized that this was an important point and must be dealt with.

She wasn't angry at f.a.n.n.y, for she knew to just what extent her cla.s.smates were to blame.

"Did Dot Mead know Betty had told you not to coast on this hill?" she asked finally.

"She certainly did." f.a.n.n.y was still triumphant.

Polly bit her underlip and half closed her eyes. Lois saw these unmistakable signs of danger, and tried to make peace.

"Are you sure?" she asked hopefully.

"I am." f.a.n.n.y was ridiculously solemn.

"Then the Dorothys went beyond their authority," Polly said coldly. "And their permission counts for nothing. You can see for yourself that you can't manage on this hill; you nearly hurt yourself just now."

"I did no such a thing," f.a.n.n.y interrupted lamely. But Polly paid no attention to her.

"As captain of the basket ball team, and Senior head of athletics"--the t.i.tle rolled from her lips importantly--"I forbid you to coast on this hill again, no matter who gives you permission," she said with unmistakable decision. Then, without another word she turned on her heel and went up the hill with Lois.

Half way to the top, they found Betty in heated argument with Dot Mead.

Now when Betty was angry she stormed. At this present moment, she was more than angry, she was furious.

"You had no right whatever to do it," she raged, as Polly and Lois joined them. "You didn't do it because you thought f.a.n.n.y really knew how to coast; you just thought it was a good chance to get even with me.

You've a fine idea of cla.s.s dignity to do anything so petty. If you ever do a thing like that again--Jemima, I'll-- You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You're jealous. That's--"