Now secrets are not the easiest thing in the world to keep, and it is quite possible that either Elizabeth Ann or Doris might have told someone the great plan, or a little about it, if something had not happened that, for a time, gave them something else to think about.

It snowed!

Great beautiful feathery flakes of snow began to drift slowly down one afternoon as the children went home from school and which came faster and faster until by supper time, the ground was white.

“If there is anything I love,” said Elizabeth Ann enthusiastically, “it is a big snow storm. I hope it snows all night.”

Doris didn’t like snow much, but she admitted it would be fun to go coasting. “How can we go to school if it snows?” she asked, just as they were going to bed that night.

“Oh, Dave and the bus will get you there,” Aunt Grace assured her. “That heavy bus can break through even deep drifts. And Uncle Hiram will take you as far as the cross-roads, if the snow is too heavy for you to walk there.”

Elizabeth Ann rather hoped the snow would be up to the roof of the Bonnie Susie in the morning, but when she woke she found it had stopped snowing sometime during the night. Still, there was six inches or more on the ground, and every fence and tree was topped with a feathery trimming of white.

“Your Uncle Hiram is up sweeping the roof—I mean the deck,” said Aunt Grace, who tried hard to learn “sailor talk” as she called it, and never quite succeeded.

Elizabeth Ann and Doris put on their coats and hats and ran up the ladder to the “top deck.” There was Uncle Hiram making the snow fly with a broom.

“Hello,” he said when he saw them. “Looks as if we were in for more snow, doesn’t it?”—and he pointed with his broom toward the sky which was heavy and gray.

“It comes down right on top of the trees,” said Elizabeth Ann, staring at the sky which did seem nearer the earth than usual.

“Think you can walk out to the bus this morning, if we get pancakes for breakfast?” Uncle Hiram suggested, knocking his broom against the railing to free it from snow. “Let’s go down and see if the first mate will cook us hot cakes.”

The first mate had the batter already mixed, and if you know how good pancakes with butter and maple syrup taste on a snowy, cold morning, then you know how good they tasted to Elizabeth Ann and Doris. Uncle Hiram said he had been a little worried about them when he first saw the snow, but any two girls who could eat nine pancakes apiece, could certainly stand a little walk through snow. And Elizabeth Ann and Doris set out a few minutes later to find there was no wind, and that it felt almost warm.

“It isn’t as cold as it was yesterday and I don’t believe it will snow any more,” said Doris, watching her rubber boots (which were the pride of her heart) leave little criss-cross marks on the white snow.

“Miss Owen said yesterday it was too cold to snow,” Elizabeth Ann replied. “And it didn’t snow till afternoon and then it had turned warmer.”

Doris said it couldn’t be too cold to snow, and they were so busy arguing this question that they came to the cross-roads before they realized it.

Roger Calendar was there—since the cow Lydia had died, Elizabeth Ann and Doris didn’t see much of Roger except in school. He worked all day Saturday at the Gould farm and Mr. Bostwick said that if he had to lose so much of the time that belonged to him, of course he would expect Roger to try to make it up by working a little longer before and after school.

“Where’s Catherine?” asked Roger, looking down the road as though he expected to see her running over the snow.

“We didn’t see anything of her,” Elizabeth Ann replied. “Maybe she is not coming.”

Other boys and girls came straggling up, their cheeks red and glowing, their eyes bright, because they had had to climb fences and go around fields to get through to the road, and the exercise made them feel comfortable and warm.

“Here comes the bus!” shouted the boys, as the chug-chug they all knew so well sounded from around a curve in the road.

“That must be Catherine!” Elizabeth Ann cried, pointing to a little dot that was moving across the snow.

Doris looked at her cousin anxiously.

“You can’t wait for her, Elizabeth Ann,” she urged. “You mustn’t; she’s late now. Dave won’t wait, and he’ll be mad if you do. You know what he said—the next time anybody made a fuss he’d report them to the principal.”

“Come on, Elizabeth Ann,” said Roger. “Catherine will turn around and go home, anyway; she couldn’t make the bus, even if she ran her feet off. She’s too late now.”

“Honk! Honk!” sounded the bus horn and there was Dave, swinging open the wide door as he stopped.

“You go ahead, Doris,” said Elizabeth Ann hastily. “I have to wait for Catherine. We can walk. It’s mean to leave her here all alone.”

And without looking at Dave—because she was afraid he might say she must get into the bus, or even jump out and lift her in as he had done before—Elizabeth Ann turned and began to walk quickly down the road she had just come over.

She didn’t dare glance back, not even when the bus horn shrieked at her. That was Dave, of course, and very likely he was furious. Well, sighed Elizabeth Ann to herself, she didn’t want to be late for school, and the only reason that made her do this was because she could not—she simply could not—go away and leave that little black dot walking over the snow alone.

Presently she heard steps behind her and someone caught up with her. Elizabeth Ann turned in astonishment and saw that Roger Calendar was walking beside her. “Why—why—you’ll miss the bus,” said Elizabeth Ann.

“I have missed it,” Roger replied. “You didn’t think I would get on it and leave you to walk all the way to town with a cross-patch like Catherine, did you?”

“She isn’t a cross-patch,” Elizabeth Ann protested, but not very firmly.

“Of course she is,” said Roger. “She’ll be as cross as two sticks because she has missed the bus. She’ll probably blame you for her bad luck. And she may not go to school at all and then you’ll be sorry you ever waited for her.”

Elizabeth Ann said nothing.

“Catherine Gould wouldn’t wait for you, and don’t you ever expect it of her,” said Roger, who didn’t feel any too cheerful about the tardy mark he knew would be placed against his name.

“Why Roger Calendar, yes she would, too!” Elizabeth Ann retorted. “I guess Catherine would wait for me, if she saw me coming and she knew the bus wouldn’t wait. Of course she would.” Roger thought it wiser not to argue that question.

“Dave was as mad as mad could be,” he said significantly. “He said his patience was—was exhausted.”

They met Catherine at that moment and Elizabeth Ann had no time to think about Dave.

“Hello, where are you going?” asked Catherine, looking at Elizabeth Ann and Roger in evident surprise.

“We’re waiting for you,” Elizabeth Ann explained. “We saw you coming and we didn’t want to go on without you.”

Catherine stopped short in the snow.

“Has the bus gone?” she demanded. “Didn’t Dave wait for me?”

Roger kept still, so Elizabeth Ann had to explain again.

“He wouldn’t wait—that would make everyone late,” she said. “We’ll have to walk all the way and we’d better hurry.”

“I hate walking,” exclaimed Catherine petulantly, “and I hate to be late—Miss Owen makes such a silly fuss.” She stood kicking a lump of snow with one foot while Elizabeth Ann stared at her anxiously and Roger looked at Elizabeth Ann with an I-told-you-so expression on his face.

But Catherine, had they known it, didn’t dare go home. Her daddy had refused to drive her to the bus again, because she wouldn’t get up when she was called to breakfast; Catherine knew that if she went home, she would only be sent to school again.

“All right, come on,” she said suddenly and began to walk so fast that Elizabeth Ann could scarcely keep up with her. Roger, being a boy, of course could walk faster than Catherine, but he kept step with Elizabeth Ann.