"Yes, what is it?" asked Nan, bending over him to look at his face in the gathering dusk of the winter afternoon. "Are you warm enough, Freddie?"
"Yes, I'm as warm as the toast Dinah makes for breakfast. But say, I want to ask you—do you think we'll meet Santa Claus before we get home?"
"No, Freddie. The idea! What makes you think that?"
"Well, it's near Christmas, and we're out in a sled, and he goes out in a sled, only with reindeers of course, and—"
Freddie's voice trailed off sleepily. In fact he had aroused himself from almost a nap to ask Nan the question. Flossie, warmly wrapped up, was already slumbering in Bert's arms.
"No, I don't believe we'll meet Santa Claus this trip," said Nan. "He is only supposed to travel at night, you know, Freddie."
"That's so. Well, if we do meet him, and I'm asleep, you wake me up: will you?"
"Yes, Freddie," promised his sister, and she looked across at Bert and smiled. The two younger twins were soon both soundly slumbering, for being out in the cold air and wind does seem to make one sleepy when, later on, one gets warm and comfortable.
Mr. Carford sat up on the seat in front driving the sturdy horses, while the string of bells around them jingled at every step.
"Wasn't that a queer story of Snow Lodge?" asked Nan of Bert, in a low voice.