“Oh, it’s all the same,” laughed the kindly man. “Names don’t mean anything. But I surely hope there won’t be any fires, little man. The engines would have hard work getting through the drifts.”
“We got a little kittie out of a snowdrift,” said Flossie. “Bert found her and she’s named Snowflake. Here she is,” and she picked up the little cat and put her in the deacon’s lap.
“Say, she’s real cute!” laughed Mr. Ander, who was fond of animals. He gently rubbed the pussy’s ears and scratched her under her chin, which she seemed to like very much.
By this time Bert was dressed to go out and he and the deacon started through the storm to the Rugg home, not far away. Mr. Rugg, who opened the door, seemed surprised to meet Bert and Mr. Ander.
“Good evening,” greeted the deacon. “Is Danny in?”
“Danny? Yes, I guess so,” answered Mr. Rugg slowly. “Did you want to see him? Has he been doing anything?”
“Oh, nothing new. And it isn’t such a terrible thing, after all, I suppose,” replied the deacon. “The worst part of it was keeping quiet and letting some one else be blamed. Oh, there you are, Danny,” he went on, as the boy himself came into the room.
No sooner did Danny catch sight of Bert and the deacon than he seemed to know what was “in the wind,” as the saying is.
Mr. Ander lost no time.
“Is this your ring, Danny?” asked the deacon, holding out on the palm of his hand the gold circlet.