The Bobbsey Twins; or, Merry Days Indoors and Out / by Laura Lee Hope

by Hope, Laura Lee

  "The winter will be gone soon, papa," said Nan. "Won't you take us before the snow is all gone?"

  "You may as well take them, Richard," said Mrs. Bobbsey.

  "Well, if I do, Mary, you must go along," answered Mr. Bobbsey, and so it was arranged that they should take the ride on the following Saturday, weather permitting.

  You may well suppose that all of the twins were very anxious about the weather after that, for Mr. Bobbsey said he would not go if it rained or if it snowed very hard.

  "What does it say in the newspapers?" asked Freddie. "They always know what the weather is going to be."

  "Not so far ahead as that," answered his brother.

  But Friday evening the paper said cold and clear, and sure enough, on Saturday morning it was as nice as one would wish. From behind masses of thin clouds the sun peeped shyly, lighting up the snow until it shone like huge beds of diamonds.

  They were to drive to Dalton, twelve miles away. Mr. Bobbsey had learned that the road to Dalton was in good condition, and the family had friends there who would be pleased to see them and have them remain to dinner.

  By half-past nine the big family sleigh was at the door, with Sam on the front seat, driving. Into the sleigh piled the four children, and Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey followed.

  "Want to sit by Sam and help drive," said Freddie, and he was lifted over to the desired position. Then off they went, with a crack of the whip and jingling of sleigh-bells that could be heard a long distance.

  "Oh, but isn't this just too splendid for anything!" exclaimed Nan, who sat at one side of the seat, with her mamma on the other and Flossie between them. "I do love sleigh riding so much!"

  "See me drive!" cried Freddie, who held the very end of the reins, the part dangling from Sam's hands.

  "Well, Freddie, don't let the team run away," said Mr. Bobbsey, with a laugh.

  "I shan't," answered the little fellow soberly. "If they try to run away, I'll whip them good."

  "You'll never stop them that way," said Bert. "You want to talk gently to them."

  On and on they went, over the smooth snow. The horses were fresh and full of spirit, and mile after mile was passed with a speed that pleased all of the twins very much. They passed several other sleighing parties, and every time this was done the children set up a merry shout which was sure to call forth an equally merry answer.

  A large part of the ride was through the country, and often the country folks would come to the doors to see them pass. Once they met a boy on the road and he asked for a ride to his home, half a mile away.

  "Yes, jump in," said Mr. Bobbsey, and the boy got in and was taken to his house almost before he knew it.

  "Much obliged," he said on leaving them. "You're fine people, you are," and he took off his hat at parting.

  "It was nice to give him a ride," said Nan. "It didn't cost us anything and he liked it a great deal, I am sure."

  "We must never forget to do a kindness when we can, Nan," said her mamma.

  Before noon Dalton was reached and they drove up to the home of Mr. Ramdell, as their friend was named. Immediately Bob Ramdell, a youth of sixteen, rushed eagerly out to greet Bert.

  "I'm glad you've come," he cried. "I've been watching for you for an hour."

  "It isn't noon yet," answered Bert.

  All were soon in the house and Sam drove the sleigh around to the barn. Bob Ramdell had a sister Susie, who was almost Nan's age, and a baby brother called Tootsie, although his real name was Alexander. Susie was glad to see Nan and Flossie, and all were soon playing with the baby, who was just old enough to be amusing.

  "I've got a plan on hand," whispered Bob to Bert, just before dinner was served. "I've been wondering if your father will let us carry it out."

  "What is it?" questioned Bert.

  "You are not to drive home until late this afternoon. I wonder if your father won't let you go down to Long Lake with me after dinner, to see the hockey match."

  "It is far from here?"

  "About two miles. We can drive down in our cutter. Father will let me have the cutter and old Rusher, I'm sure."

  "I'll see about it," said Bert. "I'd like to see the hockey match very much."

  As soon as he got the chance Bert questioned his parent about going.

  "I don't know about this," said Mr. Bobbsey slowly. "Do you think you two boys can be trusted alone with the horse?"

  "Oh, yes, papa. Bob has driven old Rusher many times."

  "You must remember, Rusher used to be a race horse. He may run away with Rob and you."

  "Oh, but that was years ago, papa. He is too old to run away now. Please say yes."

  Bert continued to plead, and in the end Mr. Bobbsey gave him permission to go to the hockey match.

  "But you must be back before five o'clock," said he. "We are going to start for home at that time."

  The dinner was a fine one and tasted especially good to the children after their long ride. But Bert and Bob were impatient to be off, and left the moment they had disposed of their pieces of pie.

  Old Rusher was a black steed which, in years gone by, had won many a race on the track. He had belonged to a brother of Mr. Ramdell, who had died rather suddenly two years before. He was, as Bert had said, rather old, but there was still a good deal of fire left in him, as the boys were soon to discover to their cost.

  The road to Long Lake was a winding one, up one hill and down another, and around a sharp turn where in years gone by there had been a sand pit.

  In the best of spirits the two boys started off, Bob handling the reins like a veteran driver. Bob loved horses, and his one ambition in life was to handle a "spanking team," as he called it.

  "Old Rusher can go yet," said Bert, who enjoyed the manner in which the black steed stepped out. "He must have been a famous race horse in his day."

  "He was," answered Bob. "He won ever so many prizes."

  The distance to Long Lake was covered almost before Bert knew it. As the hockey game was not yet begun they spent half an hour in driving over the road that led around the lake.

  Quite a crowd had gathered, some in sleighs and some on foot, and the surface of the lake was covered with skaters. When the hockey game started the crowd watched every move with interest.

  It was a "hot" game, according to Bert, and when a clever play was made he applauded as loudly as the rest. When the game was at an end he was sorry to discover that it was after four o'clock.

  "We must get home," said he to Bob. "I promised to be back by five."

  "Oh, we'll get back in no time," said Bob. "Remember, Rusher has had a good rest."

  They were soon on the road again, Rusher kicking up his heels livelier than before, for the run down to the lake had merely enabled him to get the stiffness out of his limbs.

  Sleighs were on all sides and, as the two boys drove along, two different sleighing parties passed them.

  "Hullo, Ramdell!" shouted a young man in a cutter. "Got out old Rusher, I see. Want a race?"

  "I think I can beat you!" shouted back Bob, and in a moment more the two cutters were side by side, and each horse and driver doing his best to win.

  "Oh, Bob, can you hold him'" cried Bert.

  "To be sure I can!" answered Bob. "Just you let me alone and see."

  "Come on!" yelled the stranger. "Come on, or I'll leave you behind in no time!"

  "You'll not leave me behind so quickly," answered Bob. "Go it, Rusher, go it!" he added to his horse, and the steed flew over the smooth road at a rate of speed that filled Bert with astonishment.

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE RACE AND THE RUNAWAY

  BERT loved to ride and drive, but it must be confessed that he did not enjoy racing.

  The road was rather uneven, and he could not help but think what the consequences might be if the cutter should strike a deep hollow or a big stone.

  "Don't let Rusher run away," he said to his friend. "Be careful."

  Bob was by this time having has hands so
full that he could not answer.

  "Steady, Rusher, steady!" he called out to the steed. "Steady, old boy!"

  But the old race horse was now warmed up to his work and paid no attention to what was said. On and on he sped, until the young man in the other cutter was gradually outdistanced.

  "Told you I could beat you!" flung back Bob.

  "The race is yours," answered the young man, in much disappointment, and then he dropped further back than ever.

  "Better slacken up, Bob," said Bert. "There is no use in driving so hard now."

  "I--I can't slacken up," answered Bob. "Steady, Rusher," he called out. "Whoa, old fellow, whoa!"

  But the old race horse did not intend to whoa, and on he flew as fast as his legs would carry him, up the first hill and then onward toward the turn before mentioned.

  "Be careful at the turn, Bob!" screamed Bert. "Be careful, or we'll go over!"

  "Whoa, Rusher!" repeated Bob, and pulled in on the reins with all of his might.

  The turn where the sand pit had been was now close at hand. Here the road was rather narrow, so they had to drive close to the opening, now more than half filled with drifted snow. Bert clung to the cutter while Bob continued to haul in on the reins. Then came a crash, as the cutter hit a hidden stone and drove straight for the sand pit.

  "Hold on!" cried Bob, and the next instant Bert found himself flying out of the cutter and over the edge of the road. He tried to save himself by clutching at the ice and snow, but it was useless, and in a twinkling he disappeared into the sand pit! Bob followed, while Rusher went on more gayly than ever, hauling the overturned cutter after him.

  Down and down went poor Bert into the deep snow, until he thought he was never going to stop. Bob was beside him, and both floundered around wildly until almost the bottom of the pit was reached.

  "Oh, Bob!"

  "Oh, Bert! Are you hurt?"

  "Don't know as I am. But what a tumble!"

  "Rusher has run away!"

  "I was afraid he'd do that."

  For a minute the two boys knew not what to do. The deep snow lay all around them and how to get out of the pit was a serious question.

  "It's a wonder we weren't smothered," said Bob. "Are you quite sure no bones have been broken?"

  "Bones broken? Why, Bob, it was like coming down on a big feather bed. I only hope Rusher doesn't do any damage."

  "So do I."

  When the boys finally floundered out of the hollow into which they had fallen, they found themselves in snow up to their waists. On all sides of them were the walls of the sand pit, ten to fifteen feet high.

  "I don't see how we are going to get out of this," said Bert dolefully. "We can't climb out."

  "We'll 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 sound 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."

  "I thought of my umbrella. It was resting against the wall, close to the bed I turned over and reached for the umbrella, but it slipped down and made a terrible noise as it struck the floor. Then I flung the covers over my head."

  "What did you want the umbrella for?" questioned Freddie, in great wonder. "'Twasn't raining."

  "I thought I could--could punch the ghost with it," faltered Nan.

  At this Bert could hold in no longer, and he set up a shout of laughter, which was instantly repressed by Mr. Bobbsey.

  "Oh, Nan, I'm sorry I laughed," said her twin brother, when he could speak. "But the idea of your poking at a ghost with an umbrella!"

  "It was more than you tried to do," said Mr. Bobbsey dryly.

  "That is so." Bert grew red in the face. "Did you see the ghost after that?" he asked to hide his confusion.

  "No."

  "Not at all?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

  "No, mamma. I stayed under the covers for about a minute--just like Bert did--and when I looked the ghost was gone."