en? 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."