M'Graw began slowly to fill his pipe. Mr. Howbridge saw that it was useless to hurry him, so he smiled at Neale and waited. When the tobacco was alight to suit him, Ike continued his "figgerin'."

"When this here dog," he said, looking at Neale in turn, "is at home, I guess he knows everybody in the neighborhood, don't he?"

"Yes. But surely, you don't think anybody from Milton is up here at Red Deer Lodge, except just these people that Mr. Howbridge brought?"

"Hold on. I'm doin' the askin'. You just answer me, sonny," chuckled Ike. "Now, let's see. He does know lots o' folks--especially young folks--around where he lives when he's at home, don't he?"

"Why, Tom Jonah," said Neale, "knows every boy and girl that comes past the old Corner House. He's a great friend of the kids."

"Jest so," said M'Graw, as Mr. Howbridge started and was about to speak. But the woodsman put up a hand and said to the lawyer: "Wait a minute. This man, Hedden, has looked over the stuff you brought up here in the line of canned goods and sech. He says what was stole was mostly sweets--canned peaches, an' pears, an' pineapple, an'

sugar-stuff, besides condensed milk. Jest what children would like."

"The twins!" exclaimed Mr. Howbridge. "Do you think it could be possible, after all, Ike?"

"Goodness!" gasped Neale.

"Looks mighty like children's work," said the woodsman reflectively.

"I knowed little Ralph had a twenty-two rifle. I taught him to shoot with it. He does me proud when it comes to shootin'. Yes, sir."

"But to get clear up here--"

"Them is purty smart children," said the old man. "And it looks, as I say, like their work. Who else would give themselves dead away by shootin' that fox out of the winder? No grown person would have done that if they didn't want to be caught in the house.

"Then, Ralph and Rowena would have knowed where that key hung. They'd be more'n likely to build the fire in their ma's sittin'-room. Now, when they sneaked out o' the house this mornin', they'd take just this kind of stuff that's been took from the pantry."

"I see. I see."

"And the dog clinches it. He's a friend to all children. He'd never have stopped them, especially as they was in the house and didn't come from outside."

"I believe you are right," admitted Mr. Howbridge.

"I'm great on figgerin'," said the woodsman. "Now, let's see what sort of a nose that there dog's got."

"You mean Tom Jonah?"

"Yes. I ain't got no dog. There ain't none nearer'n Sim Hackett's beagle at Ebettsville that's wuth anything on the trail. Them youngsters must have gone somewhere, Mr. Howbridge. And they can't be fur off. We've got to find 'em before this here storm that's breedin'

comes down on us. There must be tracks somewheres, and a trail a good dog can sniff."

"I understand what you mean. But how shall we start the dog on their trail! We have nothing the twins have worn," said Mr. Howbridge.

"Let's look around," suggested Ike. "Up-stairs in that sittin'-room, where you found the live coals--or, your man did--there's a closet where some of the twins' clo'es used to hang. Mebbe there's some there now. If that there dog has got a nose at all, an' he sniffed them children good this mornin', he'll know the smell of 'em again. Yes, sir."

"That is a good idea," admitted Mr. Howbridge. "You go out and see if you can find any impressions of the children's feet in the snow, Ike.

I will hunt in the rooms upstairs for something the twins may have worn."

"Stockin's are best--stockin's that ain't been washed," said the woodsman. "Or mittens, or gloves. Come on, sonny," he added to Neale O'Neil. "You come with me and we'll try to find some trail marks in the snow." He glanced at the window. "And we've got to hurry. It's snowin' right hard now, and will smother marks and everything if it keeps on this way for long."

Just then, while there was so much interest being felt in the Birdsall twins and the possibility of their having been at Red Deer Lodge, somebody should have felt a revived interest in three other children--Sammy Pinkney and the two youngest Corner House girls.

They had gone out after lunch, presumably to continue the building of the snow man in front of the Lodge. The older girls and Luke were engaged in their own matters, and thought not at all of the little folks. But Sammy, Tess and Dot had quite tired of playing in the snow.

"They're awful mean not to have taken us slidin' with them," declared Sammy, sitting on the front step and making no effort to continue the work of snow man building.

"I love to slide," repeated Dot, sadly.

"And now it's going to snow," said Tess, biting her lip. "If it snows a lot we can't slide tomorrow."

"Awful mean," reiterated Sammy. "Say! Aggie said there was a small sled back there where they found the big one. Let's go and see it."

Any idea seemed good to the disappointed little girls. Even just looking at the sled they could use, if nothing happened, was interesting. They followed Sammy.

But Sammy had more in his mind than just the idea of looking at the sled. Only, from past experience, he knew that to get Tess and Dot Kenway to leave the path of rect.i.tude took some sharp "figuring." So he, like Ike M'Graw, was exercising his faculties.

They came to the shed.

"Oh, what a nice sled!" cried Dot, as Sammy drew out a shiny sled, big enough for three or four little folks, and with a steering arrangement in front.

"It's a better sled than the one I have at home," admitted Sammy.

"I guess we could slide all right on that," said Tess slowly.

"Guess we could!" agreed the boy.

"I'd like a ride on it," said Dot wistfully.

"Get on, kid. Me and Tess will drag you," said Sammy.

Dot overlooked the objectionable way in which Sammy had addressed her and hurried to seat herself on the sled. Sammy and Tess took hold of the rope. It was not very hard to pull such a light body as that of the fairylike Dot through the soft snow.

Sammy wisely turned away from the Lodge and followed the tracks of the bobsled. In two minutes they were out of sight of the Lodge, and even of the sheds. At that time Neale and the old woodsman had not come out for the purpose of searching the vicinity of the Lodge for the footprints of the Birdsall twins.

Sammy and the two smallest Corner House girls moved up the woods path which the other sledding party had found and followed. If Ruth and the others had gone this way, surely they could safely follow the same route. Although the snow was increasing, even the cautious Tess Kenway saw no danger menacing the trio.

But at first she had no idea just what Sammy had determined upon. In fact, Sammy Pinkney had taken the bit in his teeth, and he was determined to do exactly what they had been forbidden to do. If the older ones could slide downhill, why could he and the little girls not have the same pleasure?

He and Tess drew Dot for a long way, much to that little girl's delight. Then the uphill grade tired Tess so much that she had to stop.

"Shift with Dot," Sammy said. "Come on, Dot. You and I will drag Tess a piece."

The little girl was willing, and she and her sister changed places.

Dot could not do much to aid Sammy, but he buckled down to the work and pulled manfully.

When he had to stop, puffing, they were then so far up the hill that his suggestion that they keep on to the top and slide back, met with even Tess' approval.

"We've come so far, we might's well finish it," she said.

"Well, I hope it isn't much farther," said Dot, "for it's awful hard walking in this snow. And it's snowing harder, too."