Page:The mislaid uncle (IA mislaiduncle00raym).pdf/123

 morning, Mr. Smith. I'll take good care of her and fetch her back all right."

He seized Josephine's hand, lifted his cap, dropped it over his red hair, and darted from the house.

A group of lads, his mates, had congregated before the house, recognizing his sled upon the steps, and wondering what could have sent him into that forbidding mansion. They were ready with questions and demands the instant he should appear, but paused, open-mouthed, when he did actually step out on the marble, leading Josephine. He was not "a Virginian and a gentleman" for nothing. Instinct guided his first words:

"Hello, boys! This is Josephine Smith, from San Diego, California. She's never seen snow before, worth mentioning, and I'm going to give her a sleighride. Her first one. S'pose we make it a four-in-hand, and something worth while? What say?"

"Will she be afraid?" asked one of them.

"Are you a 'fraid-cat, Josephine?" demanded Michael, sternly, in a don't-you-dare-to-say