"Now if we could only find the widow's son for her we'd have that family in pretty good shape," remarked Bart to his chums one morning early in December as they were on their way to school after the Thanksgiving holidays. "Accidentally we were able to do quite a lot for them, but I'd like to do more." "I'm glad Jane has a place," observed Fenn. "Good thing it isn't in Darewell," said Frank. "Why?" asked Fenn. "Because you'd be hanging around the store where she was whenever you had the chance, Stumpy, to see her home." Frank did not dodge quickly enough to escape the snowball Fenn threw at him, and caught it on the head. But he laughed good-naturedly. It was the price for his joke and he was willing to pay it. "Let's go skating this afternoon," suggested Bart. "The river edge is fine almost up to the Riffles." "Good!" exclaimed Ned. "We'll have a race." School was dismissed for the day at three o'clock and as soon as they were out the boys hurried home for their skates. The weather was crisp and cold, just right for a fine spin up the frozen stream. The four chums were soon gliding over the smooth surface on which were a number of other boys and girls enjoying the sport. "We haven't room to expand here," said Bart, after they had skated around on the broad expanse of the river near the town. "Let's go up a mile or two." His chums agreed, and they were soon racing up the stream toward the "Riffles" a shallower place where, in summer, there was good fishing. "Let's see who'll be first to the dead pine!" cried Bart, pointing to a lightning-blasted tree on the river's edge about a mile up. All four dashed off at top speed. There was little difference in the ability of the boys when it came to skating. They were as much at home on the steel runners as they were on the baseball diamond, and were speedy skaters. Forward they went, stooping over to avoid the wind resistance as much as possible, the metal of their skates singing merrily in the crisp winter air. "Now for the last rush!" cried Bart, as he put on an extra burst of speed. His companions responded to the call, but Bart had a little the best of them, and was first at the goal. "I'll beat you going back!" cried Ned. "Let's rest a while," suggested Frank. "What's that?" The boys turned suddenly at the sound of loud shouting on the road which, at this point, ran close to the river. It was someone trying to stop a team of horses, attached to a sleigh and, to judge by the noise, the animals were running away. "Whoa! Whoa there!" cried the driver. An instant later the team dashed from the road and came straight for the river, the driver trying in vain to stop them. "It's Sandy Merton!" exclaimed Bart.