Joe clasped his hands and wriggled imploringly, while Frank tried to hasten matters by going in search of Arthur’s overcoat.

“Well, I’ll go,” said Arthur hesitatingly.  “You’ll have to boost me out to the sleigh, for I couldn’t take a step on this snow.”

“Of course.  Frank and I will bear your lordship to the sleigh, and Joe can bring the stick.  I’m glad that it’s only one crutch now, old fellow,” ended Phil so affectionately that Mrs. Hamilton could have hugged him.

“It’s going to be one cane in—­well, I don’t dare to say just how long, but soon,” announced Arthur with such determination that, “Hurrah,” “Bully for you,” “You’re a brick,” came from the boys simultaneously.

To Arthur the quick rush through the keen air, the tingle of the flying snow-needles against his face, above all the wholesome companionship of his chums, were as rain in thirsty places.  The jokes of the boys seemed the wittiest things he had ever heard, and he shouted with laughter.

As they reached the piazza Betty opened the door.  “Have you seen Ruth?” she asked anxiously.  “She has disappeared, and all the others except Katharine are out hunting for her.”

“Disappeared!” said Frank, looking as though he could not believe his ears.  “How under the sun could she manage to disappear?  Wasn’t Jack with her?”

“Yes, but she wanted to be left alone for a while to practice, and when we were ready to start for Katharine’s she was nowhere to be found.  Oh, do hurry and don’t stop for explanations.”  Phil and Joe were already out of the house, and Frank was soon at their heels.

“It’s horrid to be left behind to wait, isn’t it, Arthur?” said Betty, feeling very helpless and realizing how much more so Arthur must feel.

“It makes me feel like a log,” answered Arthur.  He was tramping up and down the long parlor and in his excitement doing better work with his crutch than he had ever done.  “I’m going out on the piazza, Betty,” he announced.  “I can’t stand it any longer in the house.”

As he went through the hall his eye fell on the megaphone which hung there, and with a dim idea that it might be of use to him he tucked it under his free arm.  The piazza was clean and dry, and he walked its length, finding the exertion a relief to his feelings.  The megaphone was an awkward burden, and he started to put it down, only to snatch it up again before it had touched the piazza floor.  When he had brought it out he had thought he might shout a triumphant “found” through it.  Now a better purpose suggested itself to him.

“Ruth!  Ruth Shirley!” he called, and his ringing voice flew through the air in waves of sound.

“Oh, do you see her?” shrieked Katharine, opening the front door.

“No, but I hope she can hear me.  I’ve an idea that she tried to go home for some reason, and that she has lost herself on one of those winding roads that lead from the pond.  Anyway, I’m going to shout every two minutes, and the sound may help her find her way.”  Katharine retreated, and the two girls wandered about restlessly in the house and listened for each call of Ruth’s name.  Suddenly there was a hurried thump of the crutch and Arthur shouted excitedly:  “She’s coming, girls; run and meet her.”