“Oh, we were sliding on this hill, you know.”
“Uh-huh? Who was?”
“Five of us. With a big bobsled.”
“Now, you don’t tell me that bobsled made them marks,” interposed the old man. “I know that bobsled.”
“Why—I—”
“Them runner marks was made by little Ralph Birdsall’s scootin’ sled. I know that, too. Who’s gone up to slide this afternoon?”
“That must be the kids!” exclaimed Neale. “I wonder if Ruth knows they are out here playing! I remember now I didn’t see them at the front of the house.”
“You don’t suppose they’ve gone far?”
“Oh, I guess they will come to no harm around here. Ruth would not let them go away from the Lodge to play.”
“Humph!” muttered the old man.