“Why didn’t you say so?” Dorothy asked.
It seemed for the moment that the girls and boys were not to get along in their usual pleasant manner. But the wonderful sleighing, and the delightful afternoon, soon obliterated the threatening difficulties, and a happy, laughing party in each cutter glided over the road, now evenly packed with mid-winter snow.
The small boys along the way occasionally stole a ride on the back runners of the sleighs, or “got a hitch” with sled or bob, thus saving the walk up hill or the jaunt to the ice pond.
“Oh, there’s Dr. Gray!” Dorothy exclaimed suddenly as a gentleman in fur coat and cap was seen hurrying along. “I wonder why he is walking?”
“For his health, likely,” Ted answered. “Doctors know the sort of medicine to take for their own constitutions.”
By this time they were abreast of the physician. Dorothy called out to him:
“Where’s your horse, Doctor?”
“Laid up,” replied the medical man, with a polite greeting. “He slipped yesterday——”
“Going far?” Ted interrupted, drawing his horse up.
“Out to Sanders’s,” replied the doctor.