"Well, he came in, as I said, and asked about Mr. Basswood's health. Then he told me that he was in a great hurry--that a certain famous art critic had called on Mr. Wadsworth, and, having heard about the Enos miniatures, was very anxious to see them. He told me that the art critic had thought of coming over with him, but Mr. Wadsworth had said that it might disturb Mr. Basswood too much to have the miniatures examined in our house. The art critic did not want to become snowbound in Crumville, so he was only going to stay until the four o'clock afternoon train. The young man said Mr. Wadsworth wanted to know if we would allow him to take the miniatures over to the Wadsworth house, and that he would bring them back safely, either that evening or the next morning." "Oh, Mother! didn't you suspect it might be a trick?" questioned Ben, anxiously. "You knew how this Ward Porton has been impersonating Dave." "Yes, yes, Ben, I know," answered Mrs. Basswood, again wringing her hands. "And I should have been more careful. But you know I was very much upset on account of the bad turn your father had had. Then, too, the young man threw me off my guard by asking me if I had one of those cards which Dave had distributed among the storekeepers--the one with his autograph on it. "I said 'no,' but told him I was very well acquainted with his handwriting. Then he said he would write out a card for me, adding, with a laugh, that he wanted me to be sure he was really Dave. He drew a blank card out of his pocket and turned to a table to write on it and then handed it to me. Here is the card now;" and, going to the mantelpiece, the lady of the house produced it. "One of the cards that I left in the overcoat that was stolen!" exclaimed Dave. "He didn't write this at all, Mrs. Basswood. That rascal stole my overcoat and some of these cards were in it. He simply pretended to write on it." "Well, I was sure it was your handwriting, and that made me feel easy about the fellow being you." "But you knew I was with Ben and the others on the sleigh-ride," broke in Dave. "Oh, I forgot to state that when he came in he explained that you were all stormbound at the hotel in Lamont and that, as the telephone and telegraph wires were all down, he had managed to get to Pepsico and reach Crumville on a freight train, doing this so that we and the Wadsworths would not worry, thinking the sleighing-party had been lost somewhere on the road in this awful blizzard." "And then you gave him the miniatures?" questioned Ben.