“The horses took fright and ran away,” Sandy explained, when most of the bags had been piled on shore. “I couldn’t stop ’em. The load was too heavy, and it was down hill.”
The chums did not answer. Sandy did not expect they would. The situation was too novel. But he was grateful for their help, and, doubtless resolved not to act meanly toward them in the future. The trouble with Sandy was he had no strength of character. He was mean in spite of himself, and couldn’t help it.
When the bags were out of the way the five boys, by dint of hard work, managed to right the sleigh, which was a big double bob. It was not damaged to any extent and soon was ready to receive the bags of feed. They were piled in and the horses hitched up again.
“I’m—I’m much obliged to you fellows,” said Sandy in a mumbling tone. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a ride that day.”
Sandy meant that. He was much softened by what the chums had done.
“We’d made up our minds to get square with you,” said Bart, as he fastened on his skates. “And I think we did, Sandy,” and with that the four chums started off down the river, while Sandy drove the horses up into the road.
“Queer way to get square,” murmured Ned. “I’d like to punch his face.”
“This was the best way,” Bart replied, and, somehow, though perhaps they didn’t know just why, the chums agreed with him.
Christmas was approaching, and mingled with the joys of the holiday season, were thoughts in the minds of the four chums and all the other pupils, that school would close for two weeks.
“Next Wednesday is Christmas,” observed Bart one afternoon as the chums were on their way home. “School closes Tuesday for the two weeks, and we ought to mark the occasion in some way. Have you fellows heard of any celebration?”