“Look here, Sandy!” exclaimed Ned. “This is a strict business proposition. Will you drive us to Darewell for four dollars, and take our sled? That’s a dollar apiece, and it’s more than livery prices. We’re not asking you out of friendship.”
“No, and I guess you’d better not!” exclaimed Sandy. “Not the way you acted toward me!”
“We never injured you in any way!” said Bart. “But we’re not going to discuss that now. Will you give us a lift for money, or won’t you?”
“Well I won’t, and that’s my answer!” cried Sandy, in sudden and unreasonable rage. “You fellows think you’re mighty smart. But this time is where I’ve got the upper hand. I wouldn’t take you to Darewell for ten dollars apiece. You can go off hunting and enjoy yourself while other folks work. Then because you get lost in the woods you think every one you meet has got to give you a ride. Not much! You can walk to Darewell!” And whipping up his horses Sandy drove on, laughing loudly at the predicament of the chums.
“Might have known better than to ask him,” murmured Ned. “Well, fellows, I guess we’ll have to walk.”
It was easier traveling in the road than through the woods and across the fields, but still it was hard work. However, they managed to get a lift from a farmer when they were within a mile of town. They hitched their sled to the back of his sleigh and the man obligingly took them to Bart’s house.
“Oh! There are the boys!” exclaimed Alice as she looked from the window. “Look, Jennie, they have some game. I can see the turkey feathers!” she added to her friend, who had called.
“Here we are!” cried Bart, as his sister and her chum came running down the front walk. “Just in time for dinner!”
Bart wanted his chums to come into his house, but they were in a hurry to tell their folks of their safe arrival, so, shouldering their guns, and dividing the game, the boys separated.