n't it do?"

"Oh, yes," said Molly, who did not mean to be unpleasantly critical, but
who was merely surprised. "But you have to be going up and down all the
time."

"We do," agreed King. "But it's fun. And, anyway, you have to go up and
down all the time if it's a longer hill, don't you?"

"So you do," admitted Molly, "but it seems different."

However, after a few journeys up and down, she declared the hill was a
first-rate coaster, and she liked it better than a long one, because it
was easier to walk up.

They all liked Molly. Gladys concluded she was a welcome addition to
their crowd, and both Kingdon and Dick thought her a jolly girl.

She was daring,--sometimes a little too much so,--but she was
good-natured, and very kind and pleasant.

"Don't you ever hitch on?" she asked, as they all trudged up hill.

"What's that mean?" asked Gladys.

"Why, hitch on behind sleighs. Or big wagon-sleds."

"With horses?"

"Yes, of course. It's lots of fun. Come on, let's try it."

Out to the road they went, and waited for a passing sleigh. Soon Mr.
Abercrombie's turnout came by.

This gentleman was one of the richest men in Rockwell, and very
dignified and exclusive. Indeed, he was a bit surly, and not very well
liked by his fellow townsmen. But he had a fine sleigh and a magnificent
pair of horses, which were driven by a coachman in a brave livery and
fur cape.

"Please give us a hitch," called out Molly, as the glittering equipage
drew near.

"Bless my soul!" exclaimed Mr. Abercrombie, as he looked at the child.

Molly was always elf-like in appearance, but the wind had reddened her
cheeks, and blown wisps of her straight black hair about her face,
until she looked crazier than ever.

The big sleigh had stopped, and Mr. Abercrombie glared at the group of
children.

"What did you say?" he demanded, and Molly repeated her request.

Marjorie was a little shocked at the performance, but she thought
loyalty to her guest required that she should stand by her, so she
stepped to Molly's side and took hold of her hand.

The two surprised boys were about to enter a protest, when Mr.
Abercrombie smiled a little grimly, and said:

"Yes, indeed. That's what I'm out for. Martin, fasten these sleds on
behind somehow."

The obedient footman left his place, and, though the order must have
been an unusual one, he showed no sign of surprise.

"Yes, sir," he said, touching his hat. "Beg pardon, sir, but what shall
I