THE CRASH ON THE HILL Smooth as glass! ejaculated Nan Sherwood, as she came in sight of Pendragon Hill and noted the gleaming stretch of snow and ice that ran down to the very edge of Lake Huron. And you're the girl that said coasting time would never, never come, laughed her chum, Bess Harley, who was walking beside her with her hand on a rope attached to a bobsled that four girls were drawing. Never is a long word, admitted Nan. I didn't quite mean that; but the weather's been so mild up to now that I was getting desperate. Nan registering desperation, put in Laura Polk, she of the red hair and irrepressible spirits.

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