Four Little Blossoms and Their Winter Fun Part 20

Bobby wanted to know how Sam could tell and when it was pointed out to him that there were no tracks through the snow, he understood at once.

"Wouldn't it be nice if we found the other glove?" Dot suggested suddenly.

She had been very still and thoughtful and this was what she had been thinking.

Sam laughed and said that no one was ever as lucky as that.

"Daddy could wear them," Dot went on. "But maybe they wouldn't be the right size."

Walter, the horse, was walking now and the bells did not jingle. The road was drifted with snow and it was all even a very willing horse could do, to pull a sleigh through them.

It was Bobby's sharp eyes that first spied something square and dark ahead.

"There's a car!" he cried. "And I'll bet it's stuck!"

The horse p.r.i.c.ked up his ears and stared steadily, while Sam gave a low whistle.

"Must have been there all night," he said. "There are no tracks through here. I suppose some one gave up the attempt and walked."

When they came up with the car, they found that no one was in it. It was a small closed car and it was stuck in the drifts as Bobby had guessed.

"I'll bet the glove belongs to the man who owns the car," said Meg.

"Your mother doesn't like you to say 'I'll bet,'" Sam reminded her.

"But perhaps the driver did drop the glove. I'll bet he's wondering where he lost it."

The children shouted with laughter and Sam looked bewildered. Bobby explained to him they were laughing because he said "I'll bet."

"Well you see, you set me a bad example," said Sam good-naturedly.

"You'd better be more careful."

"Why don't we tow the car along with us?" Bobby suggested.

"One reason, we haven't a rope and another reason, Walt has all he can do to tow us and still another reason is that we don't want to be accused of making off with a stranger's car," said Sam, and stopped for breath.

"Well, anyway, there's a sled--we can take that, can't we?" said Dot placidly.

CHAPTER XVII

MR. MENDAM

"Sled!" chorused all the other Blossoms. "Where is there a sled?"

Dot pointed to a drift at one side of the road. Sure enough, the runners of a sled were sticking straight out.

"Perhaps there is a little boy in there," Twaddles whispered, awe-struck, and Sam hooted with laughter.

"No little boy would stay quietly buried in a snow drift, Twaddles,"

said Sam. "But I begin to think this road is bewitched--we seem to be finding stray belongings every other yard or two."

The children hopped out over the side of the sleigh and pulled out the sled. It was a good sled, but not new; the paint was worn off it in patches and one of the runners was a little bent. It had the name in faint gilt letters across the top, "The King."

"Now what do you know about that?" said Sam. "What shall we do with the thing? It isn't yours, even if you did find it."

"But let's take it with us," Meg urged. "We can put up signs in the Fernwood post-office--the way they do in Oak Hill when anything is lost and found. You know how, Sam?"

"Bring it along, then," yielded Sam. "But after this we can't make any more stops; we'll be too late to get the freight if we dawdle and that happens to be what we were sent for."

Bobby lifted the sled into the sleigh and the four children settled down cozily again, under the warm blankets and robe. Sam did not seem to be cold--he had heavy gloves and he whistled cheerfully when he wasn't talking.

They were soon off the cross road and when they turned into the main highway, the going was much easier. There were many cars and a few other sleighs on this road and most of them were going toward Fernwood.

The four little Blossoms had been to that town before, with their daddy in the car, and they knew where the post-office was. Meg wanted to go there first, but Sam was anxious to reach the freight station.

"Well, let us get out at the post-office," Bobby begged, always eager to do whatever Meg wanted done. "We can print the signs--or maybe the post-office man will. Then when you come back we'll be ready to go."

"Will you promise not to go away from the post-office, but wait for me there?" asked Sam.

The children promised and he stopped the sleigh before the high flight of steps that led to the post-office. It was a square wooden building and built on such a tall foundation that it looked as though it stood on stilts. The fire house was in the bas.e.m.e.nt, but the engine, when there was a fire, went out of a door on the other side. You couldn't expect a fire engine to come out under those wooden steps and turn around to go to the fire.

Meg and Bobby carried the sled up the stairs and Twaddles carried the glove. Dot wished she had something to carry, but she found a way to be useful without that; she had to hold the door open for a stout old gentleman who came up directly behind them and who almost was knocked down the steps by the sled runners as Meg and Bobby tried to get it inside the doorway.

"Thank you," said the stout old gentleman to Dot as she clung to the heavy door. "You're a thoughtful little girl."

Once inside the post-office, the children found that it wasn't exactly like the office at Oak Hill. It was larger and the windows were so far from the floor that the twins couldn't see inside at all and Bobby had to stand on tiptoe to speak to the clerk.

"We found some things in the road," said Bobby, holding on to the little window shelf with both hands when the clerk who had heard them come in asked him what he wanted.

"We thought we could put them on the lost and found board," Meg added.

"What sort of things are they?" asked the clerk kindly.

"This sled," Bobby answered, while the stout old gentleman who was writing at the desk against the wall, looked up.

"And a glove," chimed in Twaddles and Dot importantly.

"Good gracious!" the stout old gentleman exclaimed and the clerk leaned closer to the window and shouted.

"Did you hear that, Mr. Mendam?" he called. "They found a glove--maybe it is the one you lost."

"It is, of course it is," Mr. Mendam replied, taking the glove from Twaddles and looking at it closely. "Where did you find it? Good gracious, I never was so pleased--never!"

They explained to him where they had found the glove and the stout old gentleman said it was one of a pair his daughter had just given him for his birthday. He was so evidently delighted to have recovered his glove that the four little Blossoms forgot the sled for a moment. Dot was the first to remember.

"Did you lose a sled, too?" she asked him eagerly.