"Well, there's something queer about him anyhow," insisted Will. "Say, but you girls were in a pickle, all right."
"It was a whole jar full—with some olives thrown in," remarked Betty. "Oh, I was so frightened!"
"You didn't show it, my dear," spoke Amy. "You were very brave!"
"Well, some one had to be. Not that you all weren't!" said Betty quickly.
"When we got back, and Franklin said you'd gone off in the boat, and we saw the ice breaking up, we were wild about you," spoke Will. "We started out to trace you, keeping on the high ground to see you quicker. But the lumberman beat us to it."
"Oh, I don't know what we should have done without him," declared Mollie.
"Well, let's get back to the cabin," voiced Will. "My feet are wet."
"And we'll all feel better for a cup of tea," added Mollie.
Behold them then, a little later, seated about a cosy fire, sipping tea, coffee or chocolate, according to their fancies, Mrs. Franklin having insisted on serving them. Soon the danger was but a poignant memory.
Days passed. The thaw spent itself and a freeze set in. Again there was excellent skating and ice boating, though the girls were a bit timid of the latter. Then came several winter affairs—parties in country-homes to which the girls were invited through the courtesy of Mrs. Franklin.