rm in the hills was
not a thing to laugh at. A flash! A roar! And a large mass of rock
was cleft apart as if a mighty hammer had struck it.

Tommy Sharpe and Seedy Saunders had saddled their horses and gone in
search of the girls as soon as the storm threatened, but not knowing in
which direction they had headed, it was like hunting for a needle in a
hay stack.

They did find Professor Gillette, however, soaked to the skin, a
bedraggled, shivering figure that set the boys laughing in spite of the
pathetic look of the old man. They helped him up the hill to the
Patten household where he could be taken care of, and once more went in
search of the girls.

But it was not until the storm was over and the girls were climbing up
the last trail to the ranch that Tommy spied them.

"There they are, Seedy! They're safe!" Tommy's voice trembled with
emotion. The mountain | storms still terrified the boy, although he
had experienced so many of them.

By the time the girls reached the house, the strain they had undergone
was beginning to wear off and they were able to laugh at their
adventure. That all except Joy, who shuddered whenever she thought of
it and turned pale when the women asked excited questions.

"I hate these mountains," whispered Joy to Shirley. "I wish I were
going home tomorrow!"

"Why, Joy Evans, you know you don't." Shirley put her arm around the
frightened girl. "You're having a grand time here, and the fun is just
beginning. You're not going to quit over the first unpleasant thing
that happens to you. That's not playing the game. What would Lady
Betty Merriweather do?"

Joy laughed in spite of herself. "We always used to ask that question
when we were in Lynnwood. Lady Betty meant a lot to us, didn't she? I
guess she wouldn't have cried and taken on the way I did down there on
the cliff."

"Do you remember," said Shirley softly, "how Lady Betty rode through
the night to help her wounded husband? That was bravery!"

"But that was so long ago. The Revolutionary War seems like a story
and not real life," Joy said with a toss of her head. "Maybe it didn't
happen at all."

Lady Betty Merriweather had been the first owner of the Merriweather
Estate, Bet's home on the Hudson, and from an old picture of her that
adorned the great entrance hall of the Manor, the girls had come to
feel that she was their friend and companion, an ideal for them to live
up to.

"Anyway," continued Joy,