It was on the left side of the house, where I hadn't seen it till now. It was plenty big. We hauled at the double doors. When they came open, they shoved swaths across the snow.

I looked in.

All of a sudden, I remembered the pistol the General'd given to me last night. It was still on the table by my bed. I felt a proper fool for leaving it there.

The stable wasn't exactly dark inside, but it wasn't bright by a long shot.

Sarah started through the doorway, but I grabbed her arm. She frowned at me-not like she was angry, only curious. "What is it?" she asked.

"I shouldn't like to think that Whittle might be hiding in there."

"He'd be silly, don't you think, to spend the night in a cold stable with a house so handy?"

How could I argue with that?

Still, though, I felt right jittery and kept my eyes sharp as we went inside.

I let go of her arm. She took hold of mine, though. Spite of what she'd said, she must've been worried.

We stopped before going in too deep, and looked around.

The place smelled like hay, mostly, but had a few other aromas that weren't so sweet. Near the front were a couple of carriages, one fancier than the other, and a sleigh that had two rows of seats. The walls of the place were all hung with tools and tack.

We walked in farther, to where the horses were. There were stalls to hold four of them, but the gate of the last stall stood open.

Sarah pulled up short and let out a quiet gasp. "My Lord," she said. She didn't release my arm, but dragged me along beside her. We hurried past the first three stalls. The horses, seeing us, snorted and snuffled. White plumes blew out of their nostrils.

The fourth stall was empty.

Sarah gazed into it, breathing hard, puffing out clouds of white. "He's taken Saber," she murmured. "Wait here. I've got to tell Grandpa."

She let go my arm and rushed off.

I wasn't keen on being left alone, but she was hardly out the doors before it came to me I needn't worry about getting jumped by Whittle. He'd come along last night, after all. It had been a mighty narrow call for the General and the women, for he must've been tempted to take over the house. He'd chosen, instead, to pinch a horse and light out.

It spooked me some, knowing he'd been here. But he was likely miles and miles away, by now. Any chap who would filch a horse on a snowy night, when he had a chance to hole up in a nice warm house, aimed to do some hard traveling.

In a way, it was good to know we were safe from him. It troubled me, though, that he'd gotten away. I had half a mind to grab a horse and chase after him.

More than half a mind, really.

It was what I ought to do.

But with such a headstart, and any direction to choose from except toward the water, he'd be near impossible to run down. Besides, there I would be in a strange land in the dead of winter, no money, no clothes but the borrowed ones on my back. And the folks here, they'd been awfully good to me. Making off with one of their horses would be a dirty play, and give Mable reason to bully the General and Sarah.

If all that weren't enough cause to hold me off, there was knowing that I'd miss out on my chance to cable Mother. She deserved to know, straight away, I wasn't dead after all.

So I gave up the notion of chasing after Whittle.

It seemed I was letting down everybody he'd killed, especially poor Trudy, but I judged I owed more to the living. The dead weren't likely to appreciate my efforts, anyhow.

Well, that led me to thinking about those Whittle hadn't killed yet yet-the ones he'd be butchering down the road a piece unless I stopped him.

They complicated things considerable, and I commenced to figure maybe I'd better take a horse, after all. By then, however, it was too late.

Sarah came striding along, frowning. She didn't have the General with her.

"Best not to tell him," she said. "If he finds out Saber's been stolen, he'll saddle up and ride off, and he won't come back empty-handed. He's too old for such shenanigans, but that's exactly what he'd do."

We could go together! I thought. I thought.

Before I got my mouth open to suggest it, Sarah said, "The way his health is, I doubt we'd ever see him again. But would that stop him? No, I hardly think so. Why, he would rather die and leave Grandma a widow than allow a horsethief to get away from him."

"He's certain to learn the horse has gone missing," I pointed out.

"We'll leave the stable door open. Saber always did have a feisty nature. He's run off before. I'll simply explain that he was here when we set out for town. That won't throw Grandpa into such a tizzy as if he takes a notion that Saber's been stolen."

Sarah wasn't just pretty, but had a sharp mind to boot. It bothered me that she was given to such trickery, but the way she had it figured, she was deceiving the General for his own good.

I told her the plan was quite clever.

She opened the gate of a stall that had a huge gelding inside named Howitzer. The name was embroidered in gold on his blue blanket. After pulling the blanket off him, Sarah walked him toward the front of the stable. There, I helped harness him to the sleigh.

Outside, snow was drifting down.

"Perfect," Sarah said. "It'll cover Saber's tracks."

Well, Saber had no tracks that needed covering, as he was long gone. What Sarah meant was that the snow might hide the tracks Saber would've would've made, if he'd been here this morning and wandered off. made, if he'd been here this morning and wandered off.

We stuck to her plot, and left the stable doors open.

Then we both climbed into the sleigh. Sarah sat down close against me and spread a blanket across our laps. Then she picked up the reins, gave them a shake, called out, "Geeyup," and off we went.

Sarah steered us away from the house. We glided past trees and a fountain with no water in it but that had a statue of Bacchus, who was sticking a grape in his mouth and wore nothing except for snow heaped here and there, and looked to be freezing.

We stopped at the wall's front gate. It was shut. Whittle must've taken time to dismount and close it after him, so folks wouldn't catch on he'd been here.

"I'll see to it," I said as Sarah reined in.

"Leave it open a bit for Saber," she told me, still keeping her mind on our ruse.

I hopped into the snow, swung the gate wide, and waited while Sarah "gee-yupped" Howitzer then "whoaed" him once they'd gotten to the other side. I left the gate standing open some, rushed ahead and climbed into the sleigh. It felt good to have the blanket on my legs again.

After we took a turn to the right, Sarah clucked a few times and Howitzer commenced to trot along at a smart pace. We fairly flew over the snow, the wind and flakes in our faces.

"Would you care to take the reins?" she asked.

"Smashing."

I took the leather straps from her and gave them a shake. Howitzer checked over his shoulder, let out a snort of white steam, then faced the front again and kept on trotting. His hooves thumped quiet through the snow. The only other sounds came from him huffing, and the sleigh runners hissing along, the harness creaking and jangling, and bells on the harness tinkling out real merry.

It was all just uncommon peaceful.

"We'll be to Coney Island in no time," Sarah told me, and gave my thigh a pat under the blanket. She smiled at me. Her cheeks were ruddy, her eyes moist from the weather. "It's a shame you didn't arrive in the summer. People come from miles around. It's just so lively and gay." She squeezed my leg. "If you stay, you'll see for yourself. You will will stay, won't you?" stay, won't you?"

Stay till summer summer? The notion stunned me. I didn't know how to answer, and wished she hadn't asked. By and by, I said, "I shouldn't like to impose on your hospitality."

"You'd be doing us a great favor. You could help with the ch.o.r.es and keep me company. We'd have a wonderful time."

"It sounds splendid, really," I told her. "If it weren't for Mother..."

"I know. I'm sorry. You must miss her terribly."

"I rather imagine she should like me home with her."

"Does she have the means to pay for your return voyage?"

The question knocked me flat.

"The means?" I asked, though I knew precisely what she meant.

"Financially."

My hesitation was all the answer Sarah needed.

"No matter," she said. "Stay on with us, and we'll pay you a wage. That way, you'll be able to purchase your own ticket home, and not work any hardship at all on your mother."

She said it kindly enough, but it let the wind out of my sails, anyhow. All along, I'd known that getting home to England would be no easy trick. Most of the time, though, I'd been so worried about getting killed by Whittle or the ocean that I hadn't given much thought to the problem. When I'd considered what to do on the slim chance I survived, I'd always figured I'd find a way to get back, somehow, sooner or later.

Sarah's offer seemed to be the solution. All I needed to do was stay on long enough to earn the ship's fare. That sure seemed better than asking Mother to sc.r.a.pe up the funds. I reckon I should've felt mighty grateful. Instead, though, I had this kind of trapped feeling.

"It seems like a fine idea," I finally said.

"Wonderful. We'll let your mother know of your plans."

"You don't suppose Mable will object, do you?"

"Oh, she may whine and complain a bit. But we won't let that bother us."

Well, by this time we'd left behind the few houses I'd been able to spot from my bedroom window. More came along, though. They got smaller, closer together. Pretty soon, they fairly lined the road. There were some street lamps, too, and I could see a town up ahead.

This looked to be the main street. Sarah took the reins from me, and slowed Howitzer. We went gliding past a few other sleighs, and some folks on horseback. I gave all the hors.e.m.e.n a study, not really figuring any of them was Whittle, but checking on them just the same.

Plenty of people were on foot, going and coming from various markets and shops and public houses. A good many of the establishments appeared to be shut, but some were open.

Just on the other side of a big hotel, Sarah pulled off to the side. We climbed down, and she wrapped the reins around a hitching post. I followed her onto a boardwalk and into a shop called Western Union. n.o.body in there but us and a fellow behind the counter.

"I'd like a message sent to England," Sarah told the chap.

"That's what I'm here for," he said, real chipper. He slipped a form across to her and slapped a pencil down on it. "Give me the name and address of the party she goes to. Put that right there." He pointed to a s.p.a.ce at the top of the form. "Message goes here. And down here, I'll need your name and whereabouts if you'll be expecting a reply. We'll deliver it to you the day she comes in, if you live hereabouts."

"We reside at the Forrest house," Sarah told him.

Hearing that, he grinned. He had an upper tooth gone, right in front, and the remainder of his choppers looked just about ripe to follow its example. "You're the General's granddaughter, then. And who's this young man?"

"He's our house guest from London," Sarah told him.

"Trevor Bentley," I said.

Sarah pa.s.sed the paper across to me. I penciled in Mother's name and the address of our lodging on Marylebone High Street, London Wl, England. While I puzzled over what to tell her, the fellow said, "She's pay by the word, so you want to be brief."

Well, they stood there waiting, so I wrote quick. "Dear Mother, shanghaied to America, safe now. Will work for General Forrest and earn my fare home. Hope you are well. Your loving son, Trevor."

Sarah handed it over to the fellow. After she paid him, he allowed we might get an answer in two or three days if the party chose to make a prompt reply. Said he'd have a boy deliver it to the General's house.

Then we were off. I felt mighty good about getting that cable sent to Mother, and thanked Sarah for it.

"It ought to lift a terrible burden from her heart."

When she said that, I choked up some. My eyes watered, but I turned away so she wouldn't notice.

We waited for a rider to pa.s.s, then hurried across the street and went into a general store. It seemed we were in there forever, Sarah picking out this and that for me. We ended up with a whole pa.s.sel of things-everything from a toothbrush to boots and house slippers, socks and longjohns and trousers, shirts and sweaters and a waistcoat, a jacket, even a nightshirt and robe. The whole pile cost her a bundle of money. But she hadn't more than got done paying for it than she hauled out her purse again and bought us each a licorice stick, a copy of the New York World World for the General, and a sack of chestnuts for Mable. for the General, and a sack of chestnuts for Mable.

We hauled our load on back to the sleigh, and it was a good thing there was only the two of us, or we never would've managed to fit it all in.

We boarded, and Sarah turned us around and we started heading back out of town.

She said, "I hope we're not forgetting anything."

I shook my head, even though I remembered we'd told the General we would stop at the constabulary and give information about Whittle. No point in reminding Sarah, though. If she'd forgotten, that suited me.

I couldn't see how it mattered. The True D. Light True D. Light had carried off Michael and Trudy, so there weren't any bodies to account for. And Whittle, he likely hadn't stopped riding yet and wouldn't ever be showing up anywhere close to this town. So I didn't see any advantage, at all, to telling on him. It might only serve to stir up trouble for me. had carried off Michael and Trudy, so there weren't any bodies to account for. And Whittle, he likely hadn't stopped riding yet and wouldn't ever be showing up anywhere close to this town. So I didn't see any advantage, at all, to telling on him. It might only serve to stir up trouble for me.

When we got back to the house, the General forgot to ask if we'd gone to the authorities. He was too much in a frenzy about Saber getting loose. The three of us went outside and hunted high and low for the horse, till by and by the General allowed we ought to give up. Saber'd run off before, he said, and would probably wander back in his own good time.

I knew better, of course, but didn't set him straight.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

Christmas and After Two days before Christmas, a boy from Western Union came along with a telegram. It read, DEAREST TREVOR MY HEART IS FULL WITH NEWS THAT YOU ARE WELL STOP I LONG TO HAVE YOU HOME STOP WRITE TO ME AND STAY SAFE STOP I MISS YOU STOP ALL MY LOVE MOTHER DEAREST TREVOR MY HEART IS FULL WITH NEWS THAT YOU ARE WELL STOP I LONG TO HAVE YOU HOME STOP WRITE TO ME AND STAY SAFE STOP I MISS YOU STOP ALL MY LOVE MOTHER The message made me miss her something awful, so I sat down straight away in the General's study and wrote a long letter to her.

I scribbled on about what had happened to me after going to fetch Uncle William, and brought her all the way up to the present, telling her what nice people Sarah and the General were, and how I'd be working here at the house until I could afford a return ticket. Of course, I made no mention of a few items. Figured she was better off not knowing about me and Sue in the alley, or how I'd stabbed the wh.o.r.e's confederate, or about me hiding under Mary's bed when Whittle killed her, or even how he'd killed everyone on the boat except me. Knowing such matters wouldn't likely ease Mother's mind any.