I never trust me two eyes to speak the truth again if that wasn't
Ricks!"

When they started they found that the harness was broken, and all
efforts to fix it were in vain.

"It's half-past five now," cried Annette. "If I don't get home
b-before dad, he'll have out the fire department."

"There's a farm-house a good way back," said Sandy; "but it's too far
for you to walk. Will you be waiting here in the buggy until I go for
help?"

"Well, I guess not!" said Annette, indignantly.

Sandy looked at the round baby face beside him and laughed. "It's not
one of meself that blames you," he said; "but how are we ever to get
home?"

Annette was not without resources.

"What's the matter with riding the horse b-back to the farm?"

"And you?" asked Sandy.

"I'll ride behind."

They became hilarious over the mounting, for the horse bitterly
resented a double burden.

When he found he could not dispose of it he made a dash for freedom,
and raced over the frozen road at such a pace that they were soon at
their destination.

"He won the handicap," laughed Sandy as he lifted his disheveled
companion to the ground.

"It was glorious!" cried Annette, gathering up her flying locks. "I
lost every hair-pin but one."

At the farm-house they met with a warm reception.

"Jes step right in the kitchen," said the farmer. "Mommer'll take
care of you while I go out to the stable for some rope and another
hoss."

The kitchen was a big, cheerful room, full of homely comfort. Bright
red window-curtains were drawn against the cold white world outside,
and the fire crackled merrily in the stove.

Sandy and Annette stood, holding out their hands to the friendly
warmth. She was watching with interest the preparations for supper,
but he had grown silent and preoccupied.

The various diversions of the afternoon had acted as a temporary
narcotic, through which he struggled again and again to wretched
consciousness. A surge of contempt swept over him that he could have
forgotten for a moment. He did not want to forget; he did not want to
think of anything else.

"They smell awfully g-good," whispered Annette.

"What?"

"The hoe-cakes. I didn't have any dinner."

"Neither did I."

Annette looked up quickly. "What were you d-doing out there on the
track, Sandy?"

The farmer's wife fortunately came to the rescue.

"Hitch up yer cheers, you two, and take a little snack afore you go
out in the cold ag'in."

Annette promptly