"It's not one of meself that blames you," he said; "but how are we ever to get home ?" Annette was not without resources.
"What's the matter with riding the horse b-back to the farm ?" "And you ?" asked Sandy.
"I'll ride behind." They became hilarious over the mounting, for the horse bitterly resented a double burden.
When he found he could not dispose of it he made a dash for freedom, and raced over the frozen road at such a pace that they were soon at their destination.
"He won the handicap," laughed Sandy as he lifted his disheveled companion to the ground.
"It was glorious!" cried Annette, gathering up her flying locks.

"I lost every hair-pin but one." At the farm-house they met with a warm reception.
"Jes step right in the kitchen," said the farmer.

"Mommer'll take care of you while I go out to the stable for some rope and another hoss." The kitchen was a big, cheerful room, full of homely comfort.

Bright red window-curtains were drawn against the cold white world outside, and the fire crackled merrily in the stove.
Sandy and Annette stood, holding out their hands to the friendly warmth.

She was watching with interest the preparations for supper, but he had grown silent and preoccupied.
The various diversions of the afternoon had acted as a temporary narcotic, through which he struggled again and again to wretched consciousness.