where was the feast?" another girl retorted.

In fact this meal was scantier than any that had gone before, and if it
had not been for the night's raid the girls would have been in a pretty
bad way.

Amanda and the "Shadow" were there, and if looks could kill, they would
have both died on the spot. But there was no sign of Billie. The girls
had hardly thought there would be, but they had hoped.

A little while later there was another mass meeting held in dormitory
"C," and it was Rose Belser this time who took the floor.

"We simply can't stand it any longer, girls," she told them, her black
eyes snapping. "Wasn't that a wonderful breakfast we had this morning?
It makes you sick to think of it. And we don't even know whether Billie
got as much as we did. We've got to do something right away. We can try
to get word to Miss Walters. I have her address, but I don't know how
we're ever going to----"

She was interrupted by a familiar whistle from somewhere outside, and
the girls ran over to the window. Sure enough, there were Chet and
Teddy, looking, to the girls, like a couple of heaven-sent messengers,
standing underneath the window, skates flung over their shoulders,
looking up toward them expectantly.

"Wait a minute," Laura called down, "Don't dare go away from there.
You're angels, and have come just when we wanted you most."

She turned a radiant face to the girls and began to speak hurriedly.

"I had it all figured out last night, girls," she said, while they
listened eagerly. "When you told me you knew Miss Walters' address,
Rose, I thought of the boys right away. There was just a chance that
they might come over this morning or this afternoon. And now they're
here."

"Well?" they asked, puzzled.

"Oh, don't you see?" Laura clapped her hands impatiently. "The 'Dill
Pickles' won't let any of us send word to Miss Walters, but the boys can
do it for us."

Before she had finished a dozen girls were scrambling for pencil and
paper, Laura was pushed into a chair by the table and was commanded to
write and write quickly.

And Laura obeyed while the girls fairly hung over her, offering
suggestions, and all talking at once until it was a wonder she could
write anything at all.

She told the boys briefly what had happened and begged them to send word
to Miss Walters at once. Then they tied the precious piece of paper
around an inkwell--who cared for the wreck of a mere inkwell at a time
like this?--and thre