have to do it,” answered Bob. “Come, follow me.”
He led the way through the deep snow to where the walls did not seem to be so high. At one spot the rain had washed down part of the soil.
“Let us try to climb up that slope,” said the larger boy and led the way, and Bert followed.
It was hard work and it made Bert pant for breath, for the snow was still up to his waist. But both kept on, and in the end they stood on the edge of the sand pit, opposite to the side which ran along the road.
“Now we have got to walk around,” said Bob. “But that will be easy, if we keep to the places where the wind has swept the snow away.”
At last they stood on the road, and this reached both struck out for Dalton, less than a mile away.
“I’m afraid I’ll catch it, if Rusher has smashed up the cutter,” said Bob as they hurried along.
“We did wrong to race,” answered Bert.
“Humph! it’s no use to cry over spilt milk, Bert.”
“I know that, Bob. Was the cutter a new one?”
“No, but I know father won’t want it smashed up.”
Much downhearted the boys kept on walking. Bert had not wanted to race, yet he felt he was guilty for having taken part. Perhaps his father would have to pay for part of the damage done.
“Maybe old Rusher ran right into town and smashed things right and left,” he said to his friend.
“It would be just like him,” sighed Bob. “It will make an awful bill to pay, won’t it?”
A little further on they came to where a barn and a wagon shed lined the road. Under the shed stood a horse and cutter.
“My gracious me!” burst out Bob.
“Why—why—is it Rusher?” gasped Bert.
“It is!” shouted his friend.
Both boys ran up, and as they did so a farmer came from the barn.
“Oh, Mr. Daly, did you catch our horse?”
“I did, Bob,” said the farmer. “Had a runaway, eh?”
“Yes, sir. Rusher threw us both into the old sand pit. I’m ever so glad you caught him. Is the cutter broken?”
“Not that I noticed. I knew you must have had a spill-out. I saw you going to the lake right after dinner.”
Both boys inspected the cutter and found it in good condition, outside of a few scratches that did not count. Old Rusher was also all right, for which they were thankful.
“It was nice of you to stop the horse,” said Bert to Farmer Daly.
“Oh, I’d do as much for anybody,” said the farmer. “That is, if it wasn’t too dangerous. Rusher wasn’t running very fast when I caught him.”
“He was running fast enough when he threw us out,” answered Bob.
It did not take the boys long to get into the cutter again.
“Don’t let him get away on the road home,” sang out Farmer Daly after them.
“No fear of that,” answered Bob.
He was very careful how he let Rusher step out. It was growing late, but Bert did not urge him on, so it was half-past five before the Ramdell house was reached.
“You are late after all,” said Mr. Bobbsey, rather displeased.
“Oh, we’ve had such an adventure,” cried Bert.
“What happened to you?” questioned Mrs. Bobbsey quickly.
“Rusher threw us into a sand pit,” answered Bert, and then told the whole story.
“You can be thankful that you were not hurt,” said his mamma.
“I am thankful, mamma.”
“Rusher is still full of go,” said Mrs. Ramdell. “I have warned my husband not to let Bob drive him.”
“Oh, it was the brush with the other cutter that did it,” said Bob. “Rusher couldn’t stand it to let another horse pass him on the road.”
Shortly after this, good-bys were said, and Sam brought around the big family sleigh from the barn. Into this the whole Bobbsey family piled, and off they went, in the gathering gloom of the short winter day.
“I’ve had a lovely time!” called out Nan.
“So have I had a lovely time,” added little Flossie.
“Splendid,” came from Freddie. “The baby is awful nice to play with.”
“I’ve had a good time, too,” said Bert. “The hockey game was just the best ever, and so was the drive behind Rusher, even if we did get dumped out.”
The drive back to Lakeport was enjoyed as much as the drive to Dalton in the morning. On the way the children began to sing, and the voices mingled sweetly with the sounds of the sleigh bells.
“I shall not forget this outing in a hurry,” said Nan, as she leaped to the step and ran into the house.
“I shan’t forget it either,” answered Bert. “But it turned out differently for me from what I thought it would.”
CHAPTER XVIII
A Quarrel in the Schoolyard
Three days after the grand sleighing party to Dalton, Nan came down to breakfast looking very pale and worried.
“What is the trouble, Nan?” questioned her mamma. “What has happened?”
“Oh, mamma, I scarcely feel like telling,” answered Nan. “I am afraid you’ll laugh at me.”
“I fancy you had best tell me,” went on Mrs. Bobbsey.
“I saw the ghost last night—or rather, early this morning.”
“What, the ghost that I saw?” shouted Bert.
“I think it must have been the same. Anyway, it was about that high”—Nan raised her hand to her shoulder—“and all pure white.”
“Oh, Nan!” shivered Freddie. “Don’t want no ghostses!”
“I don’t want to see it,” put in Flossie, and edged closer to her mamma as if fearful the ghost might walk into the dining room that minute.
“This is certainly strange,” came from Mr. Bobbsey. “Tell us all about it, Nan.”
“Oh, papa, you won’t laugh?” and Nan’s face grew very red. “I—I—didn’t think of it then, but it must have been very funny,” she continued.
“It’s not very funny to see a ghost, Nan,” said Mrs. Bobbsey.
“I don’t mean that—I mean what I did afterward. You see I was asleep and I woke up all of a sudden, for I thought somebody had passed a hand over my face. When I looked out into the room the ghost was standing right in front of the dresser. I could see into the glass and for the minute I thought there were two ghosts.”
“Oh!” came from Flossie. “Two! Wasn’t that simply dreadful!” And she crouched closer than ever to her mamma.
“As I was looking, the ghost moved away toward the window and then I saw there was but one. I was so scared I couldn’t call anybody.”
“I believe you,” said Bert. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”
“This is certainly strange,” said Mr. Bobbsey, with a grave look on his face. “What did you do next, Nan.”
“You—you won’t laugh, papa?”
“No.”