the robe.

"I wonder who that is ahead?" he asked after a few minutes, which
brought them in sound of bells.

"I guess it's Cy Hurd; it sounded like his bells when he went past. I
guess it's him and Bill an' Belle an' Cad Hines."

"Expect to see Ed there?" asked Milton after a little pause.

"I don't care whether I ever see him again or not," she snapped.

"Oh, yes, you do!" he answered, feeling somehow her insincerity.

"Well--I don't!"

Milton didn't care to push the peace-making any further. However, he had
curiosity enough to ask, "What upset things 'tween you 'n Ed?"

"Oh, nothing."

"You mean none o' my business?"

"I didn't say so."

"No, you didn't need to," he laughed, and she joined in.

"Yes, that's Cy Hurd. I know that laugh of his far's I c'n hear it,"
said Bottie as they jingled along. "I wonder who's with him?"

"We'll mighty soon see," said Milton, as he wound the lines around his
hands and braced his feet, giving a low whistle, which seemed to run
through the colt's blood like fire. His stride did not increase in rate,
but its reach grew majestic as he seemed to lengthen and lower. His
broad feet flung great disks of hard-packed snow over the dasher, and
under the clash of his bells the noise of the other team grew plainer.

"Get out of the way," sang Milton, as he approached the other team.
There was challenge and exultation in his tone.

"Hello! In a hurry?" shouted those in front, without increasing their
own pace.

"Ya-as, something of a hurry," drawled Milton in a disguised voice.

"Wa-al? Turn out an' go by if you are."

"No, thankee, I'll just let m' nag nibble the hay out o' your box an'
take it easy."

"Sure o' that?"

"You bet high I am." Milton nudged Bettie, who was laughing with
delight. "It's Bill an' his bays. He thinks there isn't a team in the
country can keep up with him. Get out o' the way there!" he shouted
again. "I'm in a hurry."

"Let 'em out! Let 'em out, Bill," they heard Cy say, and the bays sprang
forward along the level road, the bells ringing like mad, the snow
flying, the girls screaming at every lurch of the sleighs. But Marc's
head still shook haughtily above the end-gate; still the foam from his
lips fell upon the hay in the box ahead.

"Git out o' this! Yip!" yelled Bill to his bays, but Marc merely made a
lunging leap and tugged at the lines as if asking for more liberty.
Milton gave him his head and laughed to see the great limbs rise and