"Very well," responded Schmidt, "the man that owns the house is a good friend of mine, a druggist. His name is Lamping, a pleasant Dutchman. He'll be satisfied with any arrangements we make; and if you decide to take the house, everything can be settled with him in fifteen minutes."
The two men went to the hotel, where they were served with a rather tasteless meal in surroundings comfortable and luxurious far beyond European notions. Schmidt left Frederick alone for a while and in a few moments sent a bell-boy to announce that the sleigh was waiting outside. To Frederick's astonishment he found his friend sitting alone in a pretty, two-seated sleigh reining in a fiery chestnut.
"I congratulate you on this tidy little conveyance," he said.
Peter laughed and quickly dispelled Frederick's illusion, that the immaculate little vehicle with the horse and harnessings were his own. He had merely hired it without a driver, a frequent practice in America.
"In fact," he joked, "I shall be quite content if we get there without being pitched out into the snow. I confess, I have never in my life driven a horse."
"Ah," said Frederick with chuckling satisfaction, "it is not for nothing that my father is a general. Let me drive."
Frederick's luggage was placed in the sleigh, he jumped in, caught up the reins, the chestnut reared, and off they dashed, with a deafening jingle of the sleigh-bells. Their way lay along the main street, a broad, bustling thoroughfare.
"Is this the sort of horse they usually have here?" asked Frederick. "The beast is positively running away. If we come out of this crowded street without broken limbs, it will be God's doing, not mine."
"Let him have his way. Every day there are one or more runaways here. What's the difference if it's our turn to-day?"
But Frederick reined the horse in so tightly, that he actually succeeded in pulling him up just as the Boston-New York express thundered by on a line of railroad tracks crossing the street not safeguarded by gates or fence. Frederick wondered how it was that a multitude of children, workmen, gentlemen in high hats, ladies in silk dresses, horses, dogs, trucks, and carriages were not mangled to a pulp and dashed against the walls of the houses lining the tracks. The horse plunged and reared and shot forward over the rails behind the last coach, sending clods of ice and snow flying in Frederick's and Peter's faces.