did, but it was to be doubted if the best way to secure it for
them was to send them out in a light, two-seated wagon, with a load of
five lively boys.

"Now, don't you let one of the other boys touch the reins," said Mrs.
Kinzer.

Dab's promise to that effect was a hard one to keep, for Joe and Fuz
almost tried to take the reins away from him before they had driven two
miles from the house. He was firm, however, and they managed to reach
the strip of woodland, some five miles inland, where they were to gather
their load, without any disaster, but it was evident to Dab all the way,
that his ponies were in unusually "high" condition. He took them out of
the wagon while the rest began to gather their very liberal harvest of
evergreens, and did not bring them near it again until all was ready for
the start homeward.

"Now, boys," he said, "you get in. Joe and Ford and Fuz on the back seat
to hold the greens. Frank, get up there, forward, while I hitch the
ponies. These fellows are full of mischief."

Very full, certainly, nor did Dab Kinzer know exactly what the matter
was, for a minute or so after he seized the reins and sprang up beside
Frank Harley. Then, indeed, as the ponies reared and kicked and plunged,
it seemed to him he saw something work out from under their collars and
fall to the ground. An acorn-burr is just the thing to worry a restive
horse, if put in such a place, but Joe and Fuz had hardly expected their
"little joke" would be so very successful as it was.

The ponies were off now.

"Joe," shouted Fuz, "let's jump!"

"Don't let 'em, Ford," exclaimed Dab, giving his whole energies to the
horses. "They'll break their necks if they do. Hold 'em in!"

Ford, who was in the middle, promptly seized an arm of each of his
panic-stricken cousins, while Frank clambered over the seat to help him.
They were all down on the the bottom now, serving as a weight to hold
the branches, as the light wagon bounced and rattled along over the
smooth, level road.

In vain Dab pulled and pulled at the ponies. Run they did, and all he
could do was to keep them fairly in the road.

Bracing strongly back, with the reins wound around his tough hands, and
with a look in his face that should have given courage even to the Hart
boys, Dab strained at his task as bravely as he had stood at the tiller
of the "Swallow" in the storm.

No such thing as stopping them.

And now, as they whirled along, even Dab's face paled a litt