In a few days Nan had become as enthusiastic an advocate of ski-ing as the rest. "It is like flying," she declared. "I wish we could do it at home."
"It seems such an impossible and dangerous thing to me," said Miss Helen who had been persuaded to come out to watch the sport.
"It isn't when you know how," replied Nan as she flitted off.
It was a gay company at the little hotel. The mountain air exhilarated every one and though the unusual exercise tired them out, after a hearty supper they were ready for any kind of fun. On New Year's Eve came the climax when the peasants arrived to show their dances and to ask the guests to join in. Jo was nothing loth to accept the young son of mine host as partner, and as he, in embroidered velvet breeches, short Tyrolean jacket and red tie, led off, she was quick enough to imitate the others and made a better dancer than might have been expected in such a wild and rollicking dance as it was. Once she was fairly lifted off her feet, whirled around and set down again before she knew what was happening to her. With the snowy mountains looking down upon them they welcomed in the new year and slept the last sleep they should have at Partenkirchen, for the morrow would take them back to Munich.
Dr. Paul made his appearance the evening of their return. He had been to Dresden for a week, looking into hospital work there and staying with a friend. He was welcomed joyfully and was given an enthusiastic account of winter in the mountains of Bavaria.
"You'd better have gone with us," Mrs. Corner told him. "I am sure it would have done you more good than doing extra work."
"It wasn't all work," returned the doctor, "and besides being deeply interested in what I was doing, I was glad to be with my friend Bob Morgan. He is an old pal of mine, and we have had many a run together. By the way, Nan," he turned toward this person, "I think I may have a clue to your Hans Metzger."
Every one looked interested. "Tell us about it," said Nan.
"Of course it is by no means an unusual name," the doctor went on, "and there may be dozens of them in the community, but as I was in Bob's room at the hospital one day, I picked up a German book, rather a curious old volume on husbandry which was lying on the table. In it I saw the name, Hans Metzger. 'Hallo,' I said, 'where did you get that?'
"'It was left by one of the patients,' said Bob, 'a nice sort of young German whom I attended. I was looking at the book one day, and spoke of its being something of a curiosity because of its age, so when he was discharged he presented it to me out of gratitude.' 'Was his name Hans Metzger?' I asked.