e first mile of the journey to Pine Camp, for certainly she had
never seen horses behave so before.

"Haven't been out of the stable for a week," explained Tom cooly as the
roans plunged and danced, and "cut up didos" generally, as Uncle Henry
remarked.

"We had a big fall of snow," Tom went on to say. "Bunged us all up in
the woods; so Rafe and I came in. Marm's all right. So's everybody else
around the Camp, except Old Man Llewellen. He's down with rheumatism, or
tic-douloureux, or something. He's always complaining."

"I know," said Uncle Henry, and then went on to relate for his son's
benefit the wonderful thing that had happened to his brother and his
brother's wife, and why Nan had come up into Michigan without her
parents.

"We'll be mighty proud to have her," said Tom simply. He was only a
great boy, after all, and he blushed every time he caught Nan looking at
him. The girl began to feel very much grown up.

They were glad of the hot coffee, and Tom was shown how and why the
mysterious bottle kept the drink hot. They only made that single halt
(and only for a few minutes for the horses to drink) before reaching
Pine Camp. They traveled through the snow-covered woods most of the way.
There were few farms and no settlements at all until they reached Pine
Camp.

The road was not well beaten and they could not have got through some of
the drifts with less spirited ponies than the roans. When they crossed
the long bridge over the river and swept into the village street, Nan
was amazed.

Likewise, her heart sank a little. There was not a building in the place
more than a story and a half in height. Most of them were slab cottages.
Few yards were fenced. There were two stores, facing each other on the
single street of the town, with false-fronts running up as tall as the
second story would have been had there been a second story.

The roans dashed through the better beaten path of the street, with
everybody along the way hailing Henry Sherwood vociferously. The giant
waved his hand and shouted in reply. Nan cowered between him and Tom,
on the seat, shielding her face from the flying snow from the ponies'
hoofs, though the tears in her eyes were not brought there only by the
sting of the pelting she received.

Chapter XII. "HOME WAS NEVER LIKE THIS"

The roan ponies dashed through the slab settlement, past the blacksmith
and wheelwright shop and the ugly red building Tom told Nan was the
school, and re