"Well, with all the short cuts and all the time
saving I can do, we won't be home before dark; does that suit you?"
That suited Bobby exactly and he began to whistle.
"Say," Twaddles cried, interrupting the whistling suddenly. "Say, Sam,
I want to get out."
"You do? Why?" asked Sam, without turning his head.
"I saw a glove back there in the road," Twaddles announced. "A nice
glove, Sam, that somebody lost."
Sam said "Whoa!" to the horse and turned to look at Twaddles.
"How far back--a mile?" he asked suspiciously.
"Just a little way," Twaddles replied earnestly. "I want to go get it,
Sam. Please. It's a good glove."
"I suppose it is a worn-out mitten, but this is your trip, partly,"
said Sam, who was kindness itself and usually did all he could to make
the four little Blossoms happy. "So run along, but if you're not back
in an hour I am going on without you."
Twaddles laughed and Bobby helped him down. They watched him running
down the road, a small, sturdy figure, dark against all that whiteness.
"He's got it!" cried Dot, as Twaddles stooped and picked something up.
"Twaddles sees everything!"
Her twin did not run all the way back, because he couldn't. It was
hard going in the snow and his feet slipped. Besides, he was almost
out of breath.
"It's a good glove," the others heard him saying as he came within
speaking distance. "It's a very good glove and somebody lost it."
Bobby and Meg pulled him back into the sleigh and he held out the glove
for them to see.
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