"I guess that's right, too," answered Dave's uncle. "Just the same, you take care. I don't want you young folks to have any accidents on this trip." "I trust you all have a good time," came benevolently from old Caspar Potts, as he gazed at them and rubbed his hands. "My, my! how I used to enjoy sleighing when I was a young man! And how many years ago that seems!" he added with a little sigh. "Don't stay any later than midnight," warned Mrs. Wadsworth. "We'll be back by that time unless something unusual turns up," returned Dave. He turned to the others in the sleigh. "Everybody fixed and ready?" "All ready!" came back the answering cry. "Then we're off." Dave turned to the driver, a middle-aged colored man. "Let her go, Wash." "Yassir," responded Washington Bones, with a grin. "Giddap!" he called to his horses. And with a crack of the whip and a grand flourish the turnout left the front of the Wadsworth mansion and whirled out on to the broad highway leading to Lamont. The four horses were used to working together, and they trotted along in fine style, causing many a passer-by to stop and gaze at the team and the gay load of young people in admiration. The horses were well equipped with bells, and each of the youths had provided himself with a good-sized horn, so that noise was not lacking as they dashed along past the stores and houses of Crumville. Then they came out on the Lamont road, where the sleighing was almost perfect. "I hope we don't have any such adventure as we had at Conover's Hill," remarked Jessie to Dave while they were spinning on their way. "I don't think these livery stable horses will run away," he returned. "They are used every day, and that makes them less frisky than our horses, which sometimes are in the stable for a week. Besides that, Wash Bones is one of the most careful drivers around here. If he does anything, he'll let the team hold back on him rather than urge them to do their best." On and on flew the sleigh, the young folks chatting gaily and occasionally bursting out into a verse of song. "Let's give 'em our old Oak Hall song!" cried Dave, presently. "That's it!" came eagerly from his two chums, and a moment later they started up the old school song, which was sung to the tune of Auld Lang Syne, the girls joining in: "Oak Hall we never shall forget, No matter where we roam; It is the very best of schools, To us it's just like home! Then give three cheers, and let them ring Throughout this world so wide, To let the people know that we Elect to here abide!" "Say, that takes me back to the old days at Oak Hall," remarked Roger, when the singing had come to an end. "My, but those were the great days!" "I don't believe we'll ever see any better, Roger," answered Dave. The sleighing party had still three miles to go when suddenly Laura uttered a cry. "It's snowing!"