For a moment Danny Rugg just stared at Bert. Then the bully swallowed a sort of lump that came in his throat, and said:
"That isn't my button."
"Isn't it?" asked Bert, politely. "Why, it just matches the others on your coat, and it's got a few threads in the holes, and there are some threads in your coat, just where the button was pulled off. I guess it's your button, all right, Danny."
Danny did not say anything. He looked from the button to Bert, and then at the space on his coat where a button should have been, but where one was missing.
"Well—well," he stammered. "Maybe it is off my coat, but—but how did you get it, Bert Bobbsey?"
"I found it," was the answer. "Don't you want it back?"
He held it out to Danny, who took it slowly.
"Well," went on Bert, with a queer little smile at his enemy, "why don't you ask mewhereI found it, Danny?"
"Huh! I don't care where you found it. I s'pose you picked it up around the school yard, where I lost it, playing tag with the fellows."
"No, you didn't lose it there," went on Bert, still smiling. "You have another guess coming, Danny."
"Pooh! I don't care where you found it," and Danny was about to turn away.
"Wait a minute," said Bert. "Suppose I say that this button was found in our freezer of ice cream, that you and some other boys took off our stoop the night of Flossie's and Freddie's party, Danny? What about that?"
"It isn't—I didn't—you can't prove anything about me, Bert Bobbsey, and if you go around telling that I took your ice cream, I—I—-"
But Danny did not know what else to say. He was confused and his face was white and red by turns, for he realized that Bert had good proof of what he said.
"Better go slow," advised Bert, calmly. "I don't intend to go around telling what you did. I just want to let you know that I am sure you took our ice cream."
"I—I—-" began Danny. "You're only trying to fool me!" he exclaimed."That button wasn't in it at all!"
"Wasn't it?" asked Bert, quietly. "Well, you just ask Charley Mason, or any of the fellows who were at the party, what we found in the freezer, and see what they say."
Danny had nothing to reply to this. Thrusting the button in his pocket he walked off. Bert was sure he had found the boy who had taken the ice cream.
Later, from a boy who had been friends with Danny for some time, but whose father, afterward, decided that his son was getting into bad company, and made him cease playing with the school bully, Bert learned that Danny had planned to take the ice cream freezer off the porch.
He and several boys did this, carrying it to the old barn. They had provided themselves with large spoons, and were having a good time, eating the cream, when they heard the approach of Bert and his friends, and fled, leaving the cream behind.
It was during a dispute as to who should have the right to first dip into the freezer that Danny and a boy named Jake Harkness had a struggle, and in this Danny lost a button which fell into the ice cream without anyone knowing it. The coat Danny wore that night he did not put on again for some time, but when he did Bert saw the missing button.
Danny knew that he had been found out, and for a time he had little to say. But Bert was boy enough not to be able to keep altogether quiet over his discovery. From time to time he would ask Danny:
"Lost any more buttons, lately?"
"You let me alone!" Danny would reply, surlily.
Of course this made talk, the boys wanting to know what it meant, and at last the story came out. This made Danny so angry that he picked several quarrels with Bert. On his part Bert tried to avoid them, but at last he could stand it no longer, and he and Danny came to blows again, Danny striking first.
Bert had been brought up with the idea that fighting, unless it could absolutely be avoided, was not gentlemanly, but in this case he could not get out of it.
He and Danny went at each other with their fists clenched, a crowd of other boys looking on, and urging one or the other to do their best, for both Danny and Bert had friends, though Bert was the best liked.
Danny struck Bert several times, and Bert hit back, once hitting Danny in the eye. Bert's lip was cut, and when the fight was over both boys did not look very nice. But everyone said Bert had the best of it.
"Oh, Bert!" exclaimed his mother, when he came home after the trouble with Danny. "You've been fighting!"
"Yes, mother, I have," he admitted. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help it. Danny Rugg hit me first. I couldn't run away, could I?"
It was a hard question for a mother to answer. No mother likes to think her son a coward, and that was what the boys would have called Bert had he not stood up to Danny.
"I—I just had to!" continued Bert. "And I beat him, anyhow, mother."
Mrs. Bobbsey cried a little, and then she made the best of it, and bathed Bert's cut lip and bruised forehead. She told his father about it, too, and Mr. Bobbsey, after hearing the account, asked:
"Who won?"
"Well, Bert says he did?"
"Um. Well, I've no doubt but what he did. He's getting quite strong."
"Oh, Richard!" exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey, in dismay.
"Well, boys will—er—have their little troubles," said her husband."I'm sorry Bert had to fight, but I'm glad he wasn't a coward.But he mustn't fight any more."
Then Mr. Bobbsey sat down to read the evening paper.
The weather was getting cooler. Several nights there had been heavy frosts, and for some time the papers had been saying that it was going to snow, but the white flakes did not sift down from the sky.
Thanksgiving was approaching. It was the end of the Fall term of school, and there were to be examinations to see who would pass into the next higher classes for the Winter season.
Of course in the case of Freddie and Flossie, who were still in the kindergarten, the examinations were not very hard, but they were soon to go into the regular primary class, where they would learn to read. And both the twins were very anxious for this. Bert and Nan had somewhat harder lessons to do, and they had to answer more difficult questions in the examinations.
But I am glad to say that all of the Bobbsey twins were promoted, and Freddie and Flossie came home very proud to tell that when they went back again, after the Thanksgiving holidays, they would be in the primer reading book.
And such preparations as went on for Thanksgiving! Dinah was busy from morning until night, and when the little twins made inquiries about the turkey they were to have. Mr. Bobbsey said it would be the biggest he could buy.
"An' I'se gwine t' stuff him wif chestnuts an' oysters," said Dinah. "I tells you what, chilluns, yo' all am suttinly gwine to hab one grand feed."
"I wish everybody was," said Flossie, a bit wistfully. "I hope our cat Snoop, wherever he is, has plenty of milk, and some nice turkey bones."
"I guess he will have," said Mamma Bobbsey, gently.
"I hope all the poor children in our school have enough to eat," said Freddie. "Mr. Tetlow said for us to bring what we could for them."
"And you never told me!" exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey. "Why didn't you?I would have sent something."
Neither Bert nor Nan had thought to mention at home that a collection would be taken it the school for the poor families in the town. But as soon as Mrs. Bobbsey heard what Freddie said she telephoned to her husband. Mr. Bobbsey went to see Mr. Tetlow, and from him learned that there were a number of families who would not have a very happy Thanksgiving.
Then the lumber merchant gave certain orders to his grocer and butcher, and if a number of poor people were not well supplied with food that gladsome season, it was not the fault of Mr. Bobbsey.
But I am getting a little ahead of my story. A few days before Thanksgiving Mrs. Bobbsey, with a letter in her hand, came to where the four twins were in the sitting room, talking over what they wanted for Christmas.
"Guess who are coming to spend Thanksgiving with us!" cried MammaBobbsey, as she waved the letter in the air.
"Uncle Bobbsey!" guessed Nan.
"Uncle Minturn," said Bert.
The little twins guessed other friends and relatives, and finallyMrs. Bobbsey said:
"Yes, your Uncle Bobbsey and Uncle Minturn are coming, and so are your aunts, and Cousin Harry, Cousin Dorothy and also Hal Bingham, whom you met at the seashore."
"Oh, what a jolly Thanksgiving it will be!" cried the Bobbsey twins.
Thanksgiving was celebrated in the Bobbsey home as it never had been before. I am afraid if I told you all that went on, of the big, brown-roasted turkey, of the piles of crisp celery, of the pumpkin and mince pies, of the nuts and candies, of the big dishes of cranberry sauce, and the plum pudding that Dinah carried in high above her head—I am afraid if I told you of all these things there would be trouble.
For I am sure you would all be writing to me to ask where the Bobbseys lived, so that you might go and see them, and perhaps spend Christmas with them. Not that they would not be glad to have you, but they have so many friends that their house is sure to be filled over the holidays.
So I will simply say that there was the grandest time ever, and let it go at that. Uncle and Aunt Bobbsey—Uncle and Aunt Minturn, from the country and seashore, came, with Cousin Dorothy and Cousin Harry. Then, also, Hal Bingham arrived, and the Bobbsey twins took great delight in showing their former playmates about Lakeport.
"Isn't it lonesome at the seashore now?" asked Nan of Dorothy, as she walked with her cousin about the busy streets of the town.
"Not at all," answered Dorothy. "The sea is never lonesome for me.It always seems to be telling me something, Winter or Summer."
"I love it in the Summer," said Nan, "but in the Winter it seems so cold and cruel."
"That is because you do not know it as well as I do," said Dorothy.
Hal, Harry, and Bert had fine times together. There was no skating, and the little flurry of snow there had been was not enough for coasting, but they had other fun.
"Do your ducks miss our duck Downy?" asked Freddie of his cousinHarry.
"Well, I guess they do," was the laughing answer, for Freddie and Flossie had a pet duck which they took about with them almost as faithfully as they did Snoop. "How is Downy, anyhow?" asked Harry.
"He's fine," answered the little fellow. "Want to see him?" and he took his cousin out to the barn where Downy had a pen all to himself.
"Snoop's gone," said Freddie, "and so is our silver cup, but maybe we'll get that back. It's in a circus."
"In a circus!" cried Harry. "I should think your cat might be in a circus, but not a silver cup."
"We don't know where Snoop is," went on Freddie, "'cause he got away at the time of the circus wreck," and he explained about it. "But we are almost sure the circus fat lady has our cup."
The Thanksgiving holidays came to an end at last and, much to the regret of the Bobbseys, their visitors, old and young, had to go back to their homes.
"But you'll come again at Christmas; won't you?" asked Flossie as she said good-bye.
"We'll try," said her Uncle Bobbsey. "But maybe there won't be room, with Santa Claus and all his reindeers."
"Oh, we'll make room for you," spoke Freddie. "Santa Claus won't stay long."
With a merry peal of laughter the visitors went off to the station, waving farewells. Then came rather a quiet time at the Bobbsey house, as there always is when visitors go. There seems to be a sort of loneliness, when company leaves, no matter how many there are in the family, nor what fun there is. But the feeling soon passes.
"Well, we'll soon be at school again," said Bert, a day or so before the opening of the Winter term. "I wish we'd get some snow. Then it would be more fun."
"Yes," said Freddie. "We could build snow forts and have snowball fights. I wish it would snow hard."
"So do I, so we could ride down hill," said Nan, "Is your big bob nearly done, Bert?"
"No, Charley and I have quite a lot of things to do on it yet, but we're going to work every night after school now, and it will soon be finished."
"I'm going to have skates for Christmas," announced Freddie. "I hope the lake will be frozen over by then."
"I guess it will be," returned Bert. "It's getting colder every night."
The Bobbseys were back at school. For a time Nan and Bert, who were in a higher grade, did not like it so well, as they had a strange teacher, and lessons, too, were more difficult. But they were not children who gave up easily, and soon they were at the head of their class as usual. Their teacher, too, was much nicer than they had thought at first. They had considered her stern, but it was only her way, and soon wore off.
As for Freddie and Flossie, they had advanced but little except in reading, and this opened a new world to them.
"We'll soon be reading books," boasted Freddie, on his way home one day. "And I'm going to read all about firemen, soldiers and Indians."
"Oh, I'm not," said Flossie. "I'm going to read how to be a nurse, so I can take care of you when you're hurt."
"That will be nice," said Freddie.
One day, at recess, Bert saw Jim Osborne motioning to him in a secret sort of fashion.
"Come on with us," said Jim, who was a new boy in school. "DannyRugg and some of the rest of us are going to have some sport."
"What doing?" asked Bert.
"Smoking cigarettes back of the coal house. I've got a whole pack."
"No; I don't smoke," said Bert quietly.
"Bah! You're afraid!" sneered Jim. "Cigarettes can't hurt you.It's only cigars and pipes that do."
"Yes, I admit I am afraid," said Bert "I'm afraid of getting sick. Besides, I promised my mother I wouldn't smoke until I was twenty-one, and I'm not going to tell a story. Anyhow, I've got an uncle who smokes, and he says cigarettes are worse than a pipe or cigars, and he ought to know."
"Aw, come on!" urged Jim.
"No," said Bert firmly, and he would not go. Jim went off with Danny and some of the other boys, and they were laughing among themselves. Bert felt that they were laughing at him, but he did not mind.
There was to be an examination of the school by some of the members of the Board of Education late that afternoon, and, directly after recess, Mr. Tetlow went to each room to tell the pupils and teachers to get ready for it, and to put certain work on the blackboards, so it could be seen.
When the principal got to the room where Danny Rugg and his particular chums sat, Mr Tetlow, sniffing the air suspiciously, said:
"I smell smoke!"
"I have been noticing it, too," said the lady teacher. "Perhaps the furnace does not work properly."
"It isn't that kind of smoke," went on Mr. Tetlow. "It is tobacco smoke. Have any of you boys been smoking during recess?" he asked sternly, looking across the room.
No one answered. Danny, Jim, and some of the others seemed to be studying their geography lessons very hard.
"I just want to say a word about cigarette smoking," went on Mr. Tetlow, "for that is usually how a boy begins. Of smoking in general, when a boy gets to be a man, I have nothing to say. Some say it is injurious, and others not, in moderation. But there can be no doubt that for a growing boy to smoke is very harmful. Again I ask if anyone here has been smoking?"
No one replied. The guilty boys bent deep over their books and did not look up.
"Well, I am sure someone here has," said Mr. Tetlow. "I can smell it plainly." He walked down the aisles, looking sharply from one boy to another. If he was sure who were the guilty ones he gave no sign. "And I want to add," said Mr. Tetlow, "that not only is cigarette smoking harmful to the smoker, but it is dangerous. Many fires have been caused in that way. If I find out who of my pupils have been smoking around the school they will be severely punished."
There was considerable talk among the boys in Danny's room after Mr. Tetlow departed. And it was noticed that Danny and some of his particular friends looked around with rather frightened faces, over their shoulders, as they talked among themselves. What they said could not be heard, for they spoke in whispers.
"I hope you weren't one of those boys, Bert," said Nan, as she passed her brother on the way home from school that afternoon. "If you were—"
"You needn't worry," he said, with a smile. "I'm not ready to smoke yet."
"Nor ever, I hope," said Nan, as she turned up her little nose."It—it smells so."
Nothing more was heard of the smoking matter for several days, and it was about forgotten, when something else came to claim the attention of the Bobbsey twins and their friends.
It was toward the close of school one afternoon, when all the pupils were wishing the hands of the clock would point to letting-out time, that Nan, looking from the window, and away from her arithmetic book, saw a few white flakes of snow sifting lazily down. At once she was all attention, and her lesson was forgotten.
"Oh!" she thought, "it's snowing! And it looks as if it would be a big storm! Oh, I'm so glad!"
Nan did not know all the trouble and misery a big snow storm can cause, so she may be forgiven for wishing for one. She only saw the side of it that meant fun for her and her friends.
The flakes were coming down faster now, and there was about them something which seemed to tell that this storm would be more than a mere flurry or squall, and that it would keep up for some time, making big drifts.
But now a number of other pupils in the room had noticed the storm, and eyes were out of doors rather than on books. The teacher saw that she was not getting the attention of her class, and she understood the reason.
"Now, boys and girls," she said gently, "you can have a good time in the snow after you get out of here. So please give attention to your lessons for a few minutes more. Then you will be finished. Nan Bobbsey, you may go to the board and do the third example."
But Nan was thinking so much of the fun she might have riding down hill, or snowballing with her friends, that she got the example wrong, and had to go to her seat. Nor was Bert any more successful.
Bert was busy thinking about putting a bell and a steering wheel on the new bob he and Charley had made, and when he was asked how many times two and a half went into ten he answered: "Three." He was thinking how many times he would ring the bell on the bob when he came to a street crossing.
When the Bobbsey twins, little and big, came out of school the snow was coming down more thickly. The flakes were not so large, but there were more of them, and they blew here and there in the wind, drifting into piles that would make the shoveling off of walks hard the next day.
There were just about enough of the white crystals on the ground, when the school children came out to make a few snowballs, and this they at once proceeded to do.
Danny Rugg, who had not forgiven Bert for the many times the Bobbsey lad had gotten the best of him, threw a ball at Freddie. But Bert was on the watch, and managed to jump up and catch the white missile in his hand. Then he threw it at Danny, striking him on the neck.
"Here! Where you throwin'?" demanded Danny, in angry tones.
"The same place you are," replied Bert, not a bit afraid. "Good weather for ice cream, Danny," he added, and Danny went off in an angry fashion.
Other boys and girls too, threw the snowballs, but it was in good-natured fun, and no one was hurt. Some rough boys did use hard snowballs, but they were soon left to play among themselves, while the others amused themselves with soft and fluffy missiles, which, breaking as they hit, scattered the white stuff all over, harming no one.
The girls, while they played at this sport, also indulged in washing the faces of each other. With handsful of snow they rubbed the ears and cheeks of their chums so that there came a healthy glow to the skin.
One or two children, who lived near the school, ran in their yards as soon as the classes were dismissed, and brought out their sleds. But the snow was too thin to pack well, and at best the coasting was not good.
"But it soon will be," declared Bert, as he and Charley walked along. "We must finish our bob in a hurry."
"All right. We'll work on it late to-night."
And so the sound of hammer, plane and saw was heard in the old barn, where the sled was being built, until nearly ten o'clock.
"She ought to go very fast!" exclaimed Charley, as they paused to look at their sled.
"I'm sure she will," agreed Bert. "And we'll put some carpet on the top of the main board, for a cushion for some of the girls." His chum agreed that this would be a good plan, and so the bob was made very attractive for the girls.
Bert and Charley took the big sled out for a private trial on a little hill behind the barn without telling anyone about it. They slid down very swiftly, and as they were walking up again Bert said:
"I think we have a fast one all right, Charley."
"I'm sure we have," was the answer.
"It will pass anything on the main hill," went on Bert, and his friend believed him.
The storm kept up all night, and in the morning there was snow enough to suit anyone. Bert laughed as he looked out of the window and saw it.
"There'll be coasting now all right!" he cried, as he saw the big stretch of white over the fields and on the hills. "We can have bob sled races, too."
"Can't we come?" asked Flossie.
"We like sled rides," added Freddie.
"You may come part of the time," answered Bert. "But big sleds aren't for little folks like you."
Not far from the Bobbsey home was a long hill that was most excellent for coasting. It was on this that Charley and Bert had decided to test their new sled on a long stretch.
As they hauled it from the barn where it had been made, and started to pull it to the hill, there were many laughs at the odd homemade affair. For Bert and Charley had done most of the work themselves, and it was rather rough.
"She'll never coast!" cried one boy, with a laugh. He was quite a friend of Danny's.
"Here comes the sled that can, though!" cried another, and Danny himself came into view, pulling a fine, new, big bob after him.
"That's the fastest one on the hill," boasted another lad who was helping Danny pull his sled.
"Well, I think ours is fast, too," said Bert calmly.
"Do you want to race?" asked Danny with a sharp glance at Bert.
"I don't mind," was the answer. It after school, following the first snow, and the hill was just right for coasting.
"Come on! Come on!" cried a number of boys and girls, as they heard what went on between Danny and Bert. "There's going to be a race on the big hill between the big bobs."
There was much excitement. The sleds were the two largest owned by anyone in the neighborhood, and both were fine ones. Danny had bought his, but Bert and Charley had made theirs, and so, though it was not so fancy, it was stronger. Most eyes were on Danny's sled, for it was painted in bright colors, and brightly varnished. It had a red cushion of carpet on the top, and places at the side to rest one's feet.
The bob of Bert and Charley was built just the same, but it was painted in home-made fashion, and the carpet seat was an old and faded one. But it had a new gong and a fine big steering wheel.
"All ready for the race," cried Danny, as he got his sled in position. "Who's going down with me?"
A number of boys came forward.
"Who's going with Bert and me?" asked Charley, and several others stepped forward.
"Go ahead, if you want to come in last!" sneered Danny, as he got his sled in place "I'll tell 'em you're coming, Bert."
"All right," was the cool answer. "Get on, boys!"
Soon both sleds were filled, and all was ready for the big race—the first of the season.
"Are you all ready?" called Danny to Bert, looking over at the home-made bob, and there was something like contempt in his tone.
"All ready," answered Bert. "I'll start as soon as you give the word."
"We ought to have someone to shove us off," suggested Danny. "It won't be fair if one or the other gets a head-start."
"Hi! He's afraid already!" cried Charley Mason. "He knows we're going to beat!"
"I am not!" retorted Danny. "It will be a walk-over for me once I start. But I don't want Bert Bobbsey saying I took advantage of him, after the race is over."
"You needn't be afraid—I won't say so—I won't have to," replied Bert. "All the same I think it would be better if we each had a push. I want to be fair, too."
"Hey, Bert!" called a shrill voice, as the elder Bobbsey lad was looking about for some on the hill to whom he might appeal. "Can't I ride down with you, Bert?"
It was Freddie who called, and he came running up, anxious to take part in the exciting race.
"No, Freddie, not this time," explained Bert kindly. "I want only large boys with me in the race. I'll give you a ride afterward."
"After I beat him, he means," sneered Danny.
"Come on, let's race if we're going to," called some of the boys on Danny's sled.
"Yes; don't stay here all day."
"Get a move on!"
"We'll beat, anyhow, what's the use of racing?"
There were only a few of things that those on the big new sled of Danny's, called to those on Bert's bob. On their part Bert's friends voiced such remarks as:
"We're not so strong on looks, but we'll get there first!"
"We're going to give Danny a tow to the bottom of the hill!"
"He won't know he's moving, once Bert's sled gets started going!"
"Well, what are we going to do?" asked Danny at last. "Shall we shove off ourselves?"
Just then there came along two large boys, Frank Cobb, and his particular chum, Irving Knight.
"What's going on here; a race?" asked Frank.
"It looks that way," said Irving.
"Oh, will you push us off?" begged Bert, appealing to Frank, whose father worked in Mr. Bobbsey's lumber yard.
"Sure we will," answered Frank good-naturedly. "Take the other sled, Irving," he said to his chum, "and we'll give 'em an even start. Then we'll see which beats, and may the best sled win!"
"That's what I say!" cried Irving.
The two larger boys took their places behind the bobs. They slowly shoved them to the edge of the hill, held them there a moment, and, at a nod to each other, shoved them down evenly.
"Hurray!" cried the crowd of other coasters. "There they go!"
"And Danny's ahead!" said some of his friends.
"No, Bert's sled is!" shouted his admirers. As a matter of fact, though, both sleds were even at the start. On and on they went very swiftly, for the hill had been worn smooth. Then Bert saw his bob getting ahead a little, and he felt that he was going to win easily.
But he was glad too soon, for, a little later, Danny's sled shot ahead, and for some distance was in the lead.
"Can't you beat him, Bert?" whispered Charley Mason, who sat just behind his chum.
"I hope so," was the answer. "But I can't really do anything. We just have to depend on the sled, you know."
"Steer a little more over to the left," suggested another boy. "It looks smoother there."
"I will," said Bert, and he turned the steering wheel of his bob, while Luke Morton, in the rear, pulled hard on the bell, making it clang out a loud warning.
"Look out where you're going, Bert Bobbsey!" warned Danny, looking back. "You're coming over on my side of the hill!"
"No I'm not. I'm away from the middle, even," said Bert, "Besides,I'm behind you."
"I know you are, and you're going to stay there; but I don't want you to run into me."
Bert thought of the time, the winter before, when Danny had run into him, and broken his sled, but he said nothing. He did not want that kind of an accident to be repeated if he could help it.
On, on and on dashed the big bobs, with the crowd on the hill, and a number of coasters scattered along the way, watching anxiously. As soon as Bert had steered over to the left his sled began to go faster, as the snow was packed better there. He was fast catching up to Danny, when one of the boys on that bob, looking back, saw it, and warned the steersman.
"He's coming, Danny," he cried.
"Oh, he is; eh? Well, he won't pass me," and Danny steered his sled over directly in front of Bert's, almost causing Bert to collide with him.
"Shame!" cried some watchers. "That wasn't fair!"
"Let him keep on his own side then," warned Danny.
But this mean trick did Danny little good for, though Bert was forced to go to the right, to avoid crashing into Danny, he, most unexpectedly, found good coasting there, and he shot ahead until his sled was even with that of the bully's.
"Better look out, Danny," warned the boy sitting directly back of him. "He's crowding us fast."
"Oh, it's only a spurt. We'll soon be at the bottom of the hill and win."
On and on came Bert's bob, theFlier. It was a little ahead of Danny's now, and the latter, seeing this, steered over, thinking the going was better there.
"Look out!" warned Bert "Who's crowding over now?"
"Well, I've got a right here!" snarled Danny.
But Bert knew his rights also, and would not give away. He held to his place, and Danny dared not come too close. Then, as Bert found himself on smooth, hard-packed snow, he steered as straight as he could. More and more ahead of Danny he went, until he was fully in front of him.
"We're going to win! We're going to win!" cried Bert's friends."We're going to win the race!"
Danny was wild with anger. He steered his sled over sharply, hoping to get on the same track as was Bert and so pass him. But it was not to be. Danny took too sudden a turn, and the next instant his bob overturned, spilling everyone off.
There was a cry of surprise at the accident, and some of those on Bert's sled looked back. Bert himself looked straight ahead as a steersman always should.
"Danny's upset!" cried Charley.
"I'm sorry!" said Bert "Now he'll claim the race wasn't fair."
And that is what Danny did when he picked himself up, and walked down to meet Bert, whose bob got safely to the foot of the hill, and so won the race.
"Aw, I'd have beaten if you hadn't gotten in my way so I had to steer over," cried Danny.
"Don't talk that way now," said Irving, who, with Frank Cobb had come to the end of the hill. "Bert beat you fair and square."
"Aw, well—" grumbled Danny.
"I'll race over again, if you like," offered Bert.
"Yes, and do the same thing," grumbled Danny. "I will not. I know my sled is the best."
But few others, save those who hoped for a ride on it, agreed with the bully, and Bert's home-made bob was held to be champion of the hill.
Then came many more coasts, Bert giving Nan and Flossie and Freddie, and a number of their little girl and boy friends, several rides.
Until late that evening the coasting kept up, and Bert and Charley were congratulated on all sides for the fine bob they had made. And what fun Bert had home after supper, telling of how he had won the race!
It was in the middle of the night, when the Bobbsey household was awakened by the ringing of fire bells. They all heard the alarm, and as Papa Bobbsey counted the number, he said to his wife:
"That must be near here. Guess I'll look. It's a windy night and a fire in my lumber yard would be very bad."
As he went to the window he saw a glare on the sky in the direction of the lake.
"Itisnear here!" he said. "The engines are going past our house! I'd better take a look."
"Can I come?" asked the little "Fat Fireman" from his cot. "Take me, papa!"
Mr. Bobbsey laughed, though he was worried about the fire. It seemed so odd for Freddie to want to go out in the cold, dark night.
"Not this time, my Fat Fireman!" said Freddie's papa, "It may be only a pile of rubbish on fire. I'll tell you about it when I come back."
"Where does it seem to be?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
"Down near the lake," answered her husband. "I'm afraid," he added in a lower voice, "that it may be our boathouse. It seems to be about there."
"Oh, I hope not!" she exclaimed. "Still, better that than our own house."
"If it's near the lake, papa," said Flossie, who heard part of what her father said, "it will be easy to put it out, for there is plenty of water."
"Pooh! engines have their own water!" exclaimed Freddie, who had rather hazy notions as to how fire engines work. He was getting over his disappointment about not being allowed to go with his father, and had again cuddled down in his warm crib.
Another engine dashed by the Bobbsey house, and the ringing of the alarm bell increased. The voices and footsteps of many persons, as they rushed on to the blaze, could also be heard, and there resounded the cry of:
"Fire! Fire! Fire!"
Bert, who had been aroused with the others of the household, was dressing in his room. He felt that his father would let him go to the fire. At any rate he intended to be all ready when he made his request, so as not to cause delay.
"Are you going, Bert?" asked Nan, as from her room, next to that of her brother, she heard him moving around.
"I am, if father will take me," he said,
"It's too cold for me!" Nan exclaimed with a shiver, as she went back in bed again. She bad gotten up to peer from the window at the red glare in the sky.
From the third floor, where Dinah slept, the colored cook now called down:
"Am anybody sick, Mrs. Bobbsey? What am de mattah down dere?"
"It's a fire, Dinah!" answered her mistress.
"Oh good land a'massy! Don't tell me dat!" she cried. "Sam! Sam!Wake up. De house is on fire an' you'se got t' sabe me!"
"No, no, Dinah!" cried Mrs. Bobbsey, to calm the cook. "It isn't this house. It's down by the lake. If you look out of your window you can see it."
Dinah hurried across to her window, and evidently saw the reflection of the blaze, for she exclaimed:
"Thank goodness it ain't yeah! Mah goodness, but I suah was skarit fo' a minute!"
By this time Mr. Bobbsey had dressed, and had started downstairs.Bert came out of his room, also ready for the street.
"May I come, father?" he asked.
"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Mr. Bobbsey, in surprise. "So you got dressed too, did you?"
"Yes, sir. May I come?"
Mr. Bobbsey hesitated a moment, and then with a smile, said:
"Well, I suppose so, since you are all ready. I'm taking Bert," he called to his wife. "Freddie, you'll have to be the Fat Fireman while I'm gone, and look after the house."
"That's what I will," said Freddie, "and if any sparks fly over here I'll throw the bathroom sponge on 'em!"
"Good!" cried Mr. Bobbsey, and then, he and Bert hurried out.
The fire was now larger, as they could see when they got out in the street. There was no wind and the flames went straight up in the air. There were not many buildings down by the lake, only some boat shelters and places like that. The Bobbsey's boathouse was a fine large one, having recently been made bigger as Mr. Bobbsey was thinking of buying a new motor boat.
Mr. Bobbsey and his son hurried on, following the crowd that filled the street leading to the lake. Several gentlemen knew the lumber merchant, and called to him.
"I guess you're glad this isn't your lumber yard," said one.
"Yes, indeed," was the answer. "I had a little fire there once, and I don't want another. But I'm afraid this is some of my property just the same."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, it looks to be my boathouse."
"So it does!" cried another man.
"Oh, father!" cried Bert. "Our nice boathouse!"
"Well, the firemen may save it," said Mr. Bobbsey. "We will hope so, anyhow," he added.
They had not gone on much farther before Mr. Bobbsey and Bert could see that it was indeed their boathouse on fire. One side was all ablaze, and the flames were slowly, but surely, eating their way over the whole place. But two engines were now pumping streams of water on the fire, and they might put it out before too much damage was done.
Mr. Bobbsey rushed forward, and, as the policemen and firemen knew him, they let him get close to the boathouse.
"You stay here, Bert," said Mr. Bobbsey to his son.
"Where are you going?" Bert wanted to know.
"I'm going to see if we can save any of the boats."
There was a sailing craft, a number of rowboats, and a small gasoline launch in the boat-house. They had been stored away for the winter.
"Come on, men!" cried Mr. Bobbsey, as he saw some of his workmen in the crowd. "Help me save the boats!"
All rushed forward willingly, and, as there was part of the place where the flames had not yet reached, they could make their way into the house. They began lowering the boats into the icy water, while the firemen played the several lines of hose on the flames.
The third engine was now working, and so much water was pumped that even a larger fire could not have stood it for very long.
The blaze began to die down, and when Mr. Bobbsey and his men were about to lower the gasoline launch into the icy water the chief ran up, saying:
"You don't need to do that! We've got the fire under control now.It will soon be out."
"Are you sure?" asked the lumber merchant.
"Yes. You can see for yourself. Leave the boat there. It will be all right."
Mr. Bobbsey looked, and was satisfied that the larger part of the boathouse would be saved. So he and his men stopped their work, and went outside to cool off.
A little later the fire was practically out, but one engine continued to throw water on the smouldering sparks. The crowd began to leave now, for there was nothing more to see, and it was cold.
"My!" exclaimed Bert as his father came back to where he had left his son, "it didn't take long to settle that fire."
"No, we have a good fire department," replied Mr. Bobbsey.
The fire chief came up to Mr. Bobbsey, who expressed his thanks for the quick work of the firemen.
"Have you any idea what started the fire, Mr. Bobbsey?" asked the chief. "Was the boathouse in use?"
"No," was the answer. "It had been closed for the winter some time ago—in fact as soon as the carpenters finished making the changes. No one was in it as far as I know."
"Then how do you account for this?" asked the chief, as he held out a box partly filled with cigarettes. "I picked these up in the living room," he went on, for the boathouse had one room carpeted, and fitted with chairs and tables, and electric lights where the family often spent evenings during Summer.
"You found those cigarettes in the living room of the boathouse?" asked Mr. Bobbsey.
"I did; and the question is who was smoking?" went on the chief. "In my opinion the end of a cigarette thrown aside, or perhaps a lighted match dropped in some corner, started this fire. Who was smoking?"