CHAPTER XXVIIITHE CASTAWAYS

CHAPTER XXVIIITHE CASTAWAYS

Drifts covered the fences and fitted every evergreen about The Cedars with a white cap. The snow had come quite unexpectedly and in the arms of a blizzard.

For two days and nights the storm had raged all over the East. Wires were down and many railroad trains were blocked. New York City was reported snowbound.

“I bet old Garry is holed up in the hotel there all right,” said Ned. “He’d never have got away before the storm.”

Dorothy hoped Garry had not started for the West and had become snowbound in some train; but she said nothing about it.

It took two full days for the roads to be broken around North Birchland. And then, of course, to use an automobile was quite impossible.

The Dale boys were naturally delighted, for there was no school for several days and snow-caves, snowmen and snow monuments of all kind were constructed all over the White lawns.

Nor were Joe and Roger alone in these out-of-dooractivities. The girls, as well as Ned and Nat, lent their assistance, and Tavia proved to be a fine snow sculptor.

“Always was. Believe I might learn to work putty and finally become a great sculptor,” she declared. “At Glenwood they said I had a talent for composition.”

“What kind of figure do you prefer to sculp, Tavia?” asked Ned, with curiosity.

“Oh, I think I should justlovea job in an ice-cream factory, turning out works of art for parties and banquets. Or making little figures on New Year’s and birthday cakes. And then—think of all the nice ‘eats’!”

“Oh! I’d like to do that,” breathed Roger, with round eyes.

“Now, see,” laughed Dorothy, “you have started Roger, perhaps, in a career. He does love ice-cream and cake.”

At least the joke started something else if it did not point Roger on the road to fame as an “ice-cream sculptor.” The boy was inordinately fond of goodies and Tavia promised him a treat just as soon as ever she could get into town.

A few days before Tavia had been the recipient of a sum of money from home. When he had any money himself Mr. Travers never forgot his pretty daughter’s need. He was doing very well in business now, as well as holding a political positionthat paid a good salary. This money she had received was of course burning a hole in Tavia’s pocket. She must needs get into town as soon as the roads were passable, to buy goodies as her contract with Roger called for.

The horses had not been out of the stable for a week and the coachman admitted they needed exercise. So he was to drive Tavia to town directly after breakfast. It was washday, however, and something had happened to the furnace in the laundry. The coachman was general handy man about the White premises, and he was called upon to fix the furnace just as Tavia—and the horses—were ready.

“But who’ll drive me?” asked Tavia, looking askance at the spirited span that the boy from the stables was holding. “Goodness! aren’t they full of ginger?”

“Better wait till afternoon,” advised Dorothy.

“But they are all ready, and so am I. Besides,” said Tavia with a glance at Roger’s doleful face, “somebody smells disappointment.”

Roger understood and said, trying to speak gruffly:

“Oh, I don’t mind.”

“No. I see you don’t,” Tavia returned dryly, and just then Nat appeared on the porch in bearskin and driving gloves.

“Get in, Tavia, if you want to go. The horsesneed the work, anyway; and the coachman may be all day at that furnace.”

“Oh—I—ah——” began Tavia. Then she closed her lips and marched down the steps and got into the cutter. Whatever her feeling about the matter, she was not going to attract everybody’s attention by backing out.

Nat tucked the robes around her and got in himself. Then he gathered up the reins, the boy sprang out of the way, and they were off.

With the runners of the light sleigh humming at their heels the horses gathered speed each moment. Nat hung on to the reins and the roses began to blow in Tavia’s cheeks and the fire of excitement burn in her eyes.

How she loved to travel fast! And in riding beside Nat the pleasure of speed for her was always doubled. Whether it was in the automobile, or behind the galloping blacks, as now, to speed along the highways by Nat’s side was a delight.

The snow was packed just right for sleighing and the wildly excited span tore into town at racing speed. Indeed, so excited were the horses that Nat thought it better not to stop anywhere until the creatures had got over their first desire to run.

So they swept through the town and out upon the road to The Beeches.

“Don’t mind, do you?” Nat stammered, casting a quick, sidelong glance at Tavia.

“Oh, Nat! it’s wonderful!” she gasped, but looked straight ahead.

“Good little sport—the best ever!” groaned Nat; but perhaps she did not hear the compliment thus wrested from him.

He turned into the upper road for The Beeches, believing it would be more traveled than the other highway. In this, however, he was proved mistaken in a very few minutes. The road breakers had not been far on this highway, so the blacks were soon floundering through the drifts and were rapidly brought down to a sensible pace.

“Say! this is altogether too rough,” Nat declared. “It’s no fun being tossed about like beans in a sack. I’d better turn ’em around.”

“You’ll tip us over, Nat,” objected Tavia.

“Likely to,” admitted the young man. “So we’d better both hop out while I perform the necessary operation.”

“Maybe they will get away from you,” she cried with some fear. “Be careful.”

“Watch your Uncle Nat,” he returned lightly. “I’ll not let them get away.”

Tavia was the last person to be cautious; so she hopped out into the snow on her side of the sleigh while Nat alighted on the other. A sharp pull on the bits and the blacks were plunging inthe drift to one side of the half beaten track. Tavia stepped well back out of the way.

The horses breasted the deep snow, snorting and tossing their heads. Their spirits were not quenched even after this long and hard dash from The Cedars.

The sleigh did go over on its side; but Nat righted it quickly. This, however, necessitated his letting go of the reins with one hand.

The next moment the sleigh came with a terrific shock into collision with an obstruction. It was a log beside the road, completely hidden in the snow.

Frightened, the horses plunged and kicked. The doubletree snapped and the reins were jerked from Nat’s grasp. The horses leaped ahead, squealing and plunging, tearing the harness completely from their backs. The sleigh remained wedged behind the log; but the animals were freed and tore away along the road, back toward North Birchland.

Tavia had made no outcry; but now, in the midst of the snow cloud that had been kicked up, she saw that Nat was floundering in the drift.

“Oh, Nat! are you hurt?” she moaned, and ran to him.

But he was already gingerly getting upon his feet. He had lost his cap, and the neck of his coat, where the big collar flared away, was packed with snow.

“Badly hurt—in my dignity,” he growled. “Oh gee, Tavia! Come and scoop some of this snow out of my neck.”

She giggled at that. She could not help it, for he looked really funny. Nevertheless she lent him some practical aid, and after he had shaken himself out of the loose snow and found his cap, he could grin himself at the situation.

“We’re castaway in the snow, just the same, old girl,” he said. “What’ll we do—start back and go through North Birchland, the beheld of all beholders, or take the crossroad back to The Cedars—and so save a couple of miles?”

“Oh, let’s go home the quickest way,” she said. “I—I don’t want to be the laughing stock for the whole town.”

“My fault, Tavia. I’m sorry,” he said ruefully.

“No more your fault than it was mine,” she said loyally.

“Oh, yes it was,” he groaned, looking at her seriously. “And it alwaysismy fault.”

“What is always your fault?” she asked him but tremulously and stepping back a little.

“Our scraps, Tavia. Our big scrap. IknowI ought not to have questioned you about that old letter. Oh, hang it, Tavia! don’t you see just how sorry and ashamed I am?” he cried boyishly, putting out both gloved hands to her.

“I—I know this isn’t just the way to tell you—or the place. But my heart justachesbecause of that scrap, Tavia. I don’t care how many letters you have from other people. I know there’s nothing out of the way in them. I was just jealous—and—and mean——”

“Anybody tell you why Lance Petterby was writing to me?” put in Tavia sternly.

“No. Of course not.HangLance Petterby, anyway——”

“Oh, that would be too bad. His wife would feel dreadfully if Lance were hung.”

“What!”

“I knew you were still jealous of poor Lance,” Tavia shot in, wagging her head. “And that word proves it.”

“I don’t care. I said what I meant before I knew he was married.Ishe?” gasped Nat.

“Very much so. They’ve got a baby girl and I’m its godmother. Octavia Susan Petterby.”

“Tavia!” Nat whispered still holding out his hands. “Do—do you forgive me?”

“Now! is this a time or a place to talk things over?” she demanded apparently inclined to keep up the wall. “We are castaway in the snow. Bo-o-ooh! we’re likely to freeze here——”

“I don’t care if I do freeze,” he declared recklessly. “You’ve got to answer me here and now, Tavia.”

“Have I?” with a toss of her head. “Who areyouto commandme, I’d like to know?” Then with sudden seriousness and a flood of crimson in her face that fairly glorified Tavia Travers: “How about that request I told you your mother must make, Nat? I meant it.”

“See here! See here!” cried the young man, tearing off his gloves and dashing them into the snow while he struggled to open his bearskin coat and then the coat beneath.

From an inner pocket he drew forth a letter and opened it so she could read.

“See!” Nat cried. “It’s from mother. She wrote it to me while I was in Boston—before old Ned’s telegram came. See what she says here—second paragraph, Tavia.”

The girl read the words with a little intake of her breath:

“And, my dear boy, I know that you have quarreled in some way and for some reason with our pretty, impetuous Tavia. Do not risk your own happiness and hers, Nathaniel, through any stubbornness. Tavia is worth breaking one’s pride for. She is the girl I hope to see you marry—nobody else in this wide world could so satisfy me as your wife.”

“And, my dear boy, I know that you have quarreled in some way and for some reason with our pretty, impetuous Tavia. Do not risk your own happiness and hers, Nathaniel, through any stubbornness. Tavia is worth breaking one’s pride for. She is the girl I hope to see you marry—nobody else in this wide world could so satisfy me as your wife.”

That was as far as Tavia could read, for hereyes were misty. She hung her head like a child and whispered, as Nat approached:

“Oh, Nat! Nat! how I doubted her! She issogood!”

He put his arms about her, and she snuggled up against the bearskin coat.

“Say! how aboutme?” he demanded huskily. “Now that the Widder White has asked you to be her daughter-in-law, don’t I come into the picture at all?”

Tavia raised her head, looked at him searchingly, and suddenly laid her lips against his eager ones.

“You’re—you’re thewholepicture for me, Nat!” she breathed.

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