to work.”
“Perhaps we could help you,” suggested Ned. “My father knows a number of business men and he might get Jane a place in a store.”
“Oh, if he only would!” exclaimed the girl. “I do so want to help mother. I must take Willie’s place – until he comes back,” she added a little sadly.
“My poor boy,” Mrs. Perry exclaimed with a sigh. “I wonder if he will have as nice a Thanksgiving dinner as we will, thanks to the generosity of you boys.”
“We’ll hope so,” said Fenn. “So you haven’t any idea where he is?”
“Not the least. He used to say he wanted to see New York, as I suppose all boys do. But I hardly believe he is there. I wish I knew where he was. He should come home, pride or not, no matter if he hasn’t a cent.”
“New York,” murmured Ned. “I expect to go there soon. I might see Willie.”
“Oh! If you only could!” exclaimed Jane. “Tell him to come home at once. You can easily recognize him. He has a little red scar on his right cheek. He fell and cut himself on a stone when he was a baby.”
“New York is a big place,” said Mrs. Perry. “You are not very likely to see my boy. But if you should – tell him his mother prays for him – every night!” and, unable to keep her feelings in control the widow burst into tears.
It was rather an awkward moment for the boys, but little Mary saved the day.
“I’m going to New York!” she exclaimed. “I’m goin’ right now with these nice boys. They can pull me on their sled!” and she ran to get her bonnet and cloak.
This raised a laugh, and Mrs. Perry recovered her composure.
“Not now, dear,” she said. “Sometime, maybe,” and she smiled through her tears.
“Well, we must be going,” remarked Fenn. “We’re ever so much obliged to you.”
“Indeed, I am in your debt,” the widow replied. “If you are ever out this way again come and see us.”
“We will!” the boys cried as they put on their things and started off with the sled. It was lighter now that the load of camp food and much of the game was off, though the boys found it heavy enough before they had gone a couple of miles. But they were determined to reach home as soon as possible and kept on.
“Pretty tough, eh?” remarked Ned, after a silence of several minutes, as he nodded back in the direction of the cabin.
“You’re right,” replied Bart. “Glad we could do something to help ’em.”
The boys found, on inquiring from a farmer they met, that, by taking a short cut through the woods, they could get on the road to Darewell without going to Kirkville. This would save them a mile, and, though they might be able to hire a horse and wagon in the village, they thought it better to take the short cut.
They were just turning from the woods into the highway that led to Darewell, which was about five miles away, when they heard the jingle of sleigh bells back of them. Turning they saw coming along a big sled drawn by two horses. A boy was on the seat.
“Here’s a chance for a ride!” exclaimed Ned. “We’re in luck. We can offer to pay him to take us home.”
They waited until the sled was close to them and hailed the driver. He turned and they saw it was their old enemy, Sandy Merton. Sandy had been employed by the men in the secret which the four boys were instrumental in bringing to disclosure, but had lost his position and gone to work for a farmer.
“Oh, it’s you, eh?” asked Sandy with a sneer, as he saw the four chums.
There was a moment’s hesitation among them. They did not relish the idea of asking him for a ride. But still less did they like the thought of pulling their heavy sled five miles.
“Look here, Sandy!” exclaimed Ned. “This is a strict business proposition. Will you drive us to Darewell for four dollars, and take our sled? That’s a dollar apiece, and it’s more than livery prices. We’re not asking you out of friendship.”
“No, and I guess you’d better not!” exclaimed Sandy. “Not the way you acted toward me!”
“We never injured you in any way!” said Bart. “But we’re not going to discuss that now. Will you give us a lift for money, or won’t you?”
“Well I won’t, and that’s my answer!” cried Sandy, in sudden and unreasonable rage. “You fellows think you’re mighty smart. But this time is where I’ve got the upper hand. I wouldn’t take you to Darewell for ten dollars apiece. You can go off hunting and enjoy yourself while other folks work. Then because you get lost in the woods you think every one you meet has got to give you a ride. Not much! You can walk to Darewell!” And whipping up his horses Sandy drove on, laughing loudly at the predicament of the chums.
“Might have known better than to ask him,” murmured Ned. “Well, fellows, I guess we’ll have to walk.”
It was easier traveling in the road than through the woods and across the fields, but still it was hard work. However, they managed to get a lift from a farmer when they were within a mile of town. They hitched their sled to the back of his sleigh and the man obligingly took them to Bart’s house.
“Oh! There are the boys!” exclaimed Alice as she looked from the window. “Look, Jennie, they have some game. I can see the turkey feathers!” she added to her friend, who had called.
“Here we are!” cried Bart, as his sister and her chum came running down the front walk. “Just in time for dinner!”
Bart wanted his chums to come into his house, but they were in a hurry to tell their folks of their safe arrival, so, shouldering their guns, and dividing the game, the boys separated.
CHAPTER VIII
GETTING SQUARE WITH SANDY
“Come Alice, help me carry this game into the house,” said Bart when the excitement over their arrival had quieted down a bit. His rabbits and the turkey were on the sled with the camp stuff.
“Is that all the luck you had?” asked Mr. Keene, as he came out on the porch to greet his son. “Why I thought you’d come loaded down. We didn’t buy anything for dinner, thinking you’d have enough.”
Bart knew by his father’s tone that he was only joking.
“We did have fine luck,” the boy replied, and then he told about the widow and how they had left her with plenty of food.
“Humph!” exclaimed Mr. Keene. “If you’d brought home any more game than you did, and hadn’t left her some I’d make you go back to Mrs. Perry without your dinner. You did right, Bart. I’m glad to hear it.”
Bart ate his Thanksgiving dinner with an appetite that astonished even himself. Jennie Smith remained, as the guest of Alice, and she kept those about the table in lively mood, reciting bits of verse.
During the course of the meal Bart told of their trip, and more about the widow.
“We didn’t hardly know what to do when that blizzard came up,” he said. “Wonder if Jim went to meet us.”
