you couldn't find the other trail in the dark."

Miss Schuyler laughed. "Then, look at the time, and we'll let you know
when we get there," she said.

Hetty whipped the team, and with a whirling of dusty snow beneath the
runners, they swept away. Both sat silent, until the beat of hoofs rang
amidst the trees as they swept through the gloom of the big bluff at a
gallop, and Hetty laughed excitedly.

"Hold fast, Flo. You did that very well; but we have our alibi to prove,
and are not going near the bridge," she said.

She flicked the horses, and the trees swept away behind them and the long
white levels rolled back faster yet to the drumming hoofs. The rush of
cold wind stung Miss Schuyler's face like the lash of a whip, her eyes
grew hazy, and she held the furs about her as she swayed with the lurching
of the sleigh. Darkness was closing in when they came to the forking of
the trail, and, with a little cry of warning, Hetty lashed the team. The
lurches grew sharper, and Miss Schuyler gasped now and then as she felt
the sleigh swing rocking down a long declivity. Scattered birches raced up
out of it, and the hammering beat of hoofs swelled into a roar as it
rolled along a thicker belt of trees.

They rose higher and higher, a dusky wall athwart the way, and Miss
Schuyler felt for a better hold for her feet, and grasped the big strapped
robe as she looked in vain for any opening. That team had done nothing for
more than a week, and there was no stinting of oats and maize at Cedar.
Hetty, however, did not attempt to hold them, but sat swaying to the
jolting, leaning forward as the shadowy barrier rushed up towards them,
until, before she quite realized how they got there, Miss Schuyler found
herself hurled forward down what appeared to be a steadily sloping tunnel.
Dim trees swept by and drooping boughs lashed at her. Now and then there
was a sharp crackling or a sickening lurch, and still they sped on
furiously, until a faint white shining appeared ahead.

"What is it?" she gasped.

"The river," said Hetty. "Hold fast! There's a piece like a toboggan-leap
quite near."

She flung herself backwards as the lace-like birch twigs smote her furs;
and when one of the horses stumbled Miss Schuyler with difficulty stifled
a cry. The beast, however, picked up its stride again, there was a lurch,
and the rocking sleigh appeared to leap clear of the snow. A crash
followed, and they were flying out of the shadow again across a