After all, there was a distinct pleasure in just sitting there, warm, comfortable, relaxed, taking part in the boys’ gay chatter, conscious of their friendly interest with back of it all that intangible sense of a surprise party looming in the future.
In the town they made several stops where bulky, mysterious looking parcels were tucked into the back of the sleigh, adding to the feeling of festivity. Farren rather expected that they would then head for one of the boys’ homes, where he would probably be invited to take part in the family Christmas dinner. But to his surprise Cavanaugh drove straight down the main street and on out into the country again.
“Look here, son,” he said with mock severity, “you’re not going to try any kidnapping stunt, I hope. Don’t forget I’ve got to report back at camp before nine o’clock, or it’ll be the guard house for mine.”
Cavvy grinned. “Don’t worry,” he laughed. “We’ll return you before that in first class shape, charges paid and all the rest of it.”
“Only the parcel will be a few pounds heavier than when it was posted,” chuckled McBride.
Farren smiled, but inwardly was puzzled. So it was a Christmas dinner, then—but where? He knew most of the Wharton scouts well; a few of them intimately. Not one, so far as he could recall, lived as far out as this.
His bewilderment increased when the cutter left the main road and turned to the right into a country road that led back into the hills. It curved along, winding through bits of woods, past level white stretches which might have been swamp or meadow land, or between bush-strewn pastures. The storm had lessened a little and presently the red front of a low farm house loomed warmly through the snow. But they passed that, too, and a little later, when Cavanaugh pulled the horse again sharply to the right into a narrow, twisting track, Farren gave up all speculation, and settled back comfortably to enjoy his outing.
The road was steep as well as narrow and the horse took it at a walk. On either side towered great pines and hemlocks, their laden branches sweeping almost to the ground. Yet here and there through little openings one could glimpse the close-set ranks of dark trunks standing out sharply against the snow, which seemed to stretch on indefinitely. Still climbing steadily, they made a turn and presently another. Then the track levelled abruptly, and in another moment they came out into an open space and stopped.