e
street to another, working ever westward until the gray-stone,
red-roofed buildings of the university were behind them. When but a
package of steak, bread, or a similar trifle was to be delivered, John
or Bill dashed around to the back porch or through a basement flat
areaway, while the driver sat and smoked in state on his seat. Thus the
arrangement was of mutual benefit to the parties concerned.

At last they halted before a dingy, eight-flat apartment building. Pete
carried the last, and heaviest, consignment of edibles in to its owner
and returned, a moment later, to stand on the curbing with a kindly
smile on his heavy-featured face.

"Now, boys," he said, as he drew his cap down over his ears and forehead
until the peak nearly met his black, bushy brows, "hang on tight, and
I'll give you a real ride back."

A flick at the ribs of the fat, easy-going horse, and the two sleds were
flying homeward. The depressions and hoof marks in the snow flew between
the runners at a speed which dizzied their owners. Bits of ice,
dislodged by the horse's hoofs, flew up and struck the boys' faces
stinging blows. Past the university buildings, past the school which now
stood empty and deserted because of the Christmas holidays, past
impatient pedestrians on the street corners, and over to Southern Avenue
where Pete turned in abruptly to the alley entrance of the grocery
store. Silvey screamed a warning as his sled, running straight ahead,
felt the tug of the tow rope, and skidded in a wide circle over the
rough, uneven snow. John tried to save himself from a similar fate, but
he had delayed too long. Straight for a huge snow bank, the two sleds
headed, struck the curbing, and capsized with their owners underneath.

John rose shakily with an uncertain smile on his lips. His chum dug some
snow from his ears and ran forward to unhitch the sleds. The grocer's
clock showed a quarter after twelve, so they started for the home
street. As they parted, John held up a detaining hand.

"That quarter," he explained. "Come on back to the drug store and get it
changed. I want to put my share in the pig bank."

Silvey drew off one moist mitten, and fumbled in his trouser's pockets
with a perplexed frown. Neither was it in his coat, nor in his blouse.
Where had it been left?

"S'pose we lost it when we took that spill?"

There was another fruitless search before the boys went back to the
grocery corner. There, they raked the snow bank ov