SAMMY TAKES THE BIT IN HIS TEETH
M'Graw began slowly to fill his pipe. Mr. Howbridge saw that it was
useless to hurry him, so he smiled at Neale and waited. When the
tobacco was alight to suit him, Ike continued his "figgerin'."
"When this here dog," he said, looking at Neale in turn, "is at home,
I guess he knows everybody in the neighborhood, don't he?"
"Yes. But surely, you don't think anybody from Milton is up here at
Red Deer Lodge, except just these people that Mr. Howbridge brought?"
"Hold on. I'm doin' the askin'. You just answer me, sonny," chuckled
Ike. "Now, let's see. He does know lots o' folks--especially young
folks--around where he lives when he's at home, don't he?"
"Why, Tom Jonah," said Neale, "knows every boy and girl that comes
past the old Corner House. He's a great friend of the kids."
"Jest so," said M'Graw, as Mr. Howbridge started and was about to
speak. But the woodsman put up a hand and said to the lawyer: "Wait a
minute. This man, Hedden, has looked over the stuff you brought up
here in the line of canned goods and sech. He says what was stole was
mostly sweets--canned peaches, an' pears, an' pineapple, an'
sugar-stuff, besides condensed milk. Jest what children would like."
"The twins!" exclaimed Mr. Howbridge. "Do you think it could be
possible, after all, Ike?"
"Goodness!" gasped Neale.
"Looks mighty like children's work," said the woodsman reflectively.
"I knowed little Ralph had a twenty-two rifle. I taught him to shoot
with it. He does me proud when it comes to shootin'. Yes, sir."
"But to get clear up here--"
"Them is purty smart children," said the old man. "And it looks, as I
say, like their work. Who else would give themselves dead away by
shootin' that fox out of the winder? No grown person would have done
that if they didn't want to be caught in the house.
"Then, Ralph and Rowena would have knowed where that key hung. They'd
be more'n likely to build the fire in their ma's sittin'-room. Now,
when they sneaked out o' the house this mornin', they'd take just this
kind of stuff that's been took from the pantry."
"I see. I see."
"And the dog clinches it. He's a friend to all children. He'd never
have stopped them, especially as they was in the house and didn't come
from outside."
"I believe you are right," admitted Mr. Howbridge.
"I'm great on figgerin'," said the woodsman. "Now, let's see what sort
of a nose that there dog's got."
"You mean Tom Jonah?"
"Yes. I ain't got no dog. There ain't none nearer'n Sim Hackett's
beagle at Ebettsville that's wuth anything on the trail. Them
youngsters must have gone somewhere, Mr. Howbridge. And they can't be
fur off. We've got to find 'em before this here storm that's breedin'
comes down on us. There must be tracks somewheres, and a trail a good
dog can sniff."
"I understand what you mean. But how shall we start the dog on their
trail! We have nothing the twins have worn," said Mr. Howbridge.
"Let's look around," suggested Ike. "Up-stairs in that sittin'-room,
where you found the live coals--or, your man did--there's a closet
where some of the twins' clo'es used to hang. Mebbe there's some there
now. If that there dog has got a nose at all, an' he sniffed them
children good this mornin', he'll know the smell of 'em again. Yes,
sir."
"That is a good idea," admitted Mr. Howbridge. "You go out and see if
you can find any impressions of the children's feet in the snow, Ike.
I will hunt in the rooms upstairs for something the twins may have
worn."
"Stockin's are best--stockin's that ain't been washed," said the
woodsman. "Or mittens, or gloves. Come on, sonny," he added to Neale
O'Neil. "You come with me and we'll try to find some trail marks in
the snow." He glanced at the window. "And we've got to hurry. It's
snowin' right hard now, and will smother marks and everything if it
keeps on this way for long."
Just then, while there was so much interest being felt in the Birdsall
twins and the possibility of their having been at Red Deer Lodge,
somebody should have felt a revived interest in three other
children--Sammy Pinkney and the two youngest Corner House girls.
They had gone out after lunch, presumably to continue the building of
the snow man in front of the Lodge. The older girls and Luke were
engaged in their own matters, and thought not at all of the little
folks. But Sammy, Tess and Dot had quite tired of playing in the snow.
"They're awful mean not to have taken us slidin' with them," declared
Sammy, sitting on the front step and making no effort to continue the
work of snow man building.
"I love to slide," repeated Dot, sadly.
"And now it's going to snow," said Tess, biting her lip. "If it snows
a lot we can't slide tomorrow."
"Awful mean," reiterated Sammy. "Say! Aggie said there was a small
sled back there where they found the big one. Let's go and see it."
Any idea seemed good to the disappointed little girls. Even just
looking at the sled they could use, if nothing happened, was
interesting. They followed Sammy.
But Sammy had more in his mind than just the idea of looking at the
sled. Only, from past experience, he knew that to get Tess and Dot
Kenway to leave the path of rectitude took some sharp "figuring." So
he, like Ike M'Graw, was exercising his faculties.
They came to the shed.
"Oh, what a nice sled!" cried Dot, as Sammy drew out a shiny sled, big
enough for three or four little folks, and with a steering arrangement
in front.
"It's a better sled than the one I have at home," admitted Sammy.
"I guess we could slide all right on that," said Tess slowly.
"Guess we could!" agreed the boy.
"I'd like a ride on it," said Dot wistfully.
"Get on, kid. Me and Tess will drag you," said Sammy.
Dot overlooked the objectionable way in which Sammy had addressed her
and hurried to seat herself on the sled. Sammy and Tess took hold of
the rope. It was not very hard to pull such a light body as that of
the fairylike Dot through the soft snow.
Sammy wisely turned away from the Lodge and followed the tracks of the
bobsled. In two minutes they were out of sight of the Lodge, and even
of the sheds. At that time Neale and the old woodsman had not come out
for the purpose of searching the vicinity of the Lodge for the
footprints of the Birdsall twins.
Sammy and the two smallest Corner House girls moved up the woods path
which the other sledding party had found and followed. If Ruth and the
others had gone this way, surely they could safely follow the same
route. Although the snow was increasing, even the cautious Tess Kenway
saw no danger menacing the trio.
But at first she had no idea just what Sammy had determined upon. In
fact, Sammy Pinkney had taken the bit in his teeth, and he was
determined to do exactly what they had been forbidden to do. If the
older ones could slide downhill, why could he and the little girls not
have the same pleasure?
He and Tess drew Dot for a long way, much to that little girl's
delight. Then the uphill grade tired Tess so much that she had to
stop.
"Shift with Dot," Sammy said. "Come on, Dot. You and I will drag Tess
a piece."
The little girl was willing, and she and her sister changed places.
Dot could not do much to aid Sammy, but he buckled down to the work
and pulled manfully.
When he had to stop, puffing, they were then so far up the hill that
his suggestion that they keep on to the top and slide back, met with
even Tess' approval.
"We've come so far, we might's well finish it," she said.
"Well, I hope it isn't much farther," said Dot, "for it's awful hard
walking in this snow. And it's snowing harder, too."
"Don't be a 'fraid-cat, Dottie," snorted Sammy. "I never saw such a
girl!"
"Am not a 'fraid-cat!" declared the smallest Corner House girl, prompt
to deny such an impeachment. "Snow don't hurt. But you can't see where
you are going when it snows so thick,"
"Shucks!" said Sammy. "We can't get lost on this road, can we, Tess?"
"No-o," agreed Tess. "I guess we can't. We can't get off the path,
that's sure. And we can see the marks the big sled made all the way."
These tracks, however, were rapidly being effaced. The children were
not cold, for as the snow increased it seemed to become warmer, and
the hard walking helped to keep them warm.
They had to put Dot back on the sled and draw her the final two or
three hundred yards to the top of the hill. There, fast as the snow
was gathering, they could see where the other coasters had turned the
bobsled around and prepared to launch themselves from the top of the
hill.
"I guess they slid almost all the way home," said Tess, with some
anxiety. "I hope we can do as well, Sammy."
"Sure," agreed Sammy. "Ain't no need to worry about that. Now I'm
goin' to lie right down, and Dot can straddle me. Then you push off
and hang on at the back end of the sled, Tess. Don't you kids fall
off."
"I wish you wouldn't call me a kid, Sammy Pinkney," complained Dot.
"And don't wiggle Bo if I've got to sit on you."
"Well, I got to get fixed," Sammy rejoined. "Hang on now. All ready,
Tess?"
"Yes. My! how the wind blows this snow into your face."
"Put your head down when we get started. I've got to keep lookin'
ahead. Bet this is a dandy slide--and such a long one!"
"Here we go!" cried Tess, pushing with vigor.
The sled started. It seemed to slide over the soft snow very nicely.
She scrambled on, and, sitting sideways, clung with both hands to the
rails. Dot was hanging to Sammy's shoulders.
"Choo! Choo! Choo! Here we go!" yelled Sammy, wriggling with
eagerness.
"_Do_ keep still, Sammy!" begged Dot.
But the sled did not gain speed. The gathering snow impeded the craft
even on the down grade.
"Kick! Kick behind, Tess!" yelled Sammy. "Kick _hard_."
"I--I am kicking," panted his friend. "Why don't the old thing go
better?"
"This snow is loadin' right up in front of it," sputtered Sammy. "It's
too de-e-ep! Aw--shucks!"
The sled almost stopped. Then it went over a thank-you-ma'am and slid
a little faster. The slide was nowhere near as nice as they had
expected. Why! they were not going downhill much faster than they had
come up.
The snow was sifting down now very thickly, and in a very short time
the trio was likely to have to drag the empty sled through deep
drifts. Even Sammy was secretly sorry they had come such a long way
from the Lodge. Although it was barely mid-afternoon, it seemed to be
growing dark.
They struggled to make the sled slide, however; neither Sammy nor Tess
was a child who easily gave up when circumstances became obstinate.
Tess continued to dig her heels into the snow, and when the sled
almost stopped, Sammy plunged his arms elbow deep into the snow to aid
in its movement.
But suddenly they went over a hummock. It seemed a steep descent on
the other side. In spite of the gathering snow the sled got under
better headway.
"Hurrah, Tess!" yelled Sammy. "We're all right now."
"I--I hope so!" gasped the older girl.
"Oh! Oh!" shrieked Dot. "We're going!"
They really were going--or, so it seemed. Faster and faster ran the
sled, for the hill had suddenly become steep. It was snowing too
thickly for any of them to notice that this part of the track was
entirely new to them.
They shot around a turn and took another dip toward the valley. Sammy
did not mind the snow beating into his face now. He yelled with
pleasure. The little girls hung on, delighted. The sled sped downward.
All marks of the bobsled's runners were long since lost under the new
snow. The hill grew steeper. Sammy's yells were half stifled by the
wind and snow.
It did seem as though that slide was a very long one! In climbing the
hill the trio had had no idea they had walked so far. And how steep it
was!
Over a level piece the sled would travel at a moderate rate, and then
shoot down a sudden decline that almost took their breath. Surely they
must have traveled almost to the Lodge from which they had started.
Finally the path became level. Great trees rose all about them. They
could see but a short distance in any direction because of the falling
snow.
The sled stopped. The girls hopped off and Sammy struggled to his feet
and shook the snow out of his eyes.
"Je-ru-sa-_lem_!" he choked. "What a slide! Did you ever, Tess?"
"No, I never did," admitted Tess quite seriously.
"Oh!" cried Dot. "Let's go home. I'm co-co-o-old. Why--why--" she
gasped suddenly, looking about on all sides.
"Well, don't cry about it," snorted Sammy. "Of course we'll go home.
We must be almost there now--we slid so far."
"Oh, yes. We _must_ be near Red Deer Lodge," agreed Tess.
It did not look like any place they had ever seen before. The trees
were much taller than any they had noticed about the Lodge. Yet there
was the open path ahead of them. They set Dot upon the sled again, and
Tess helped Sammy drag it and her sister straight ahead. Somewhere in
that direction they were all three sure Red Deer Lodge was situated.