"Say, what did you do about your mud turtles, Fenn?" asked Bart, as the sled bumped along, for the road was rough.
"Oh, I arranged with Sandy Merton to feed them. I'm going to pay him for it. He promised to look after them. I hope he doesn't forget. Hello! there he comes now. Hello, Sandy!" called Fenn, as he saw the president of the Shamma Shig secret society plodding along through the snow.
"Hello," responded Sandy, transferring his bundle of books from one arm to the other. "Say, but you fellows are lucky chaps! Cutting out several weeks of school, and going off hunting. I wish I was you!"
"I'll attend to 'em, Stumpy," promised Sandy. "Bring me back a bear skin; will you?"
"If we get enough for ourselves we will," agreed Bart, and Sandy went on to school, looking back at the chums with envious eyes, for, as has been explained, the campers left about a week before the Christmas holidays began.
"Well, maybe we'll have a good time--I mean of _course_ we will," said Frank, "but, all the same, Sandy is better off than we are--in one respect."
"He isn't under suspicion of having stolen a valuable diamond bracelet."
"That's right. Hang it all! I wish we could clear that thing up," remarked Bart, with energy. "Never mind, maybe it will clear itself up before we get back."
"Whoa!" called Jed, suddenly, pulling up his team.
"The nigh horse jest stumbled with its left fore foot," explained the driver, as he got out of the sled.
"No, but it's a sign of bad luck, and I don't like it, especially when you fellows are going off on a pleasure trip."
"What are you going to do?" Frank wanted to know, for Jed was kicking away the snow in front of the horses.
"I'm looking for a black stone," he explained. "If you can find a black stone, after a horse stumbles like that, it's all right."
The boys wanted to laugh at the almost childish superstition exhibited by Jed, but did not want to make him feel bad, so they managed to keep sober faces, as he kicked about in the small drifts. Finally he uttered a triumphant cry.
"I've found it!" he announced, as he pocketed a small black stone. "Now it will be all right. Gid-dap, ponies," and the horses started off again, utterly indifferent to signs of all kinds.