"We saw them skating all over the road," said Bobby. "But how gay and excited they were!"
"A ridin' horse would have to go at a foot pace," explained Mrs. Candace, "unless it was sharpened. I don't know----"
Ida had gone into the bedroom to speak with the injured man. She looked out at this juncture and excitedly beckoned to Betty. Betty ran in to find the crooked little man looking even more crooked and pitiful than ever under the blankets. He was groaning and the perspiration stood on his forehead. That he was in exceeding pain there could be no doubt.
"He says Ida Bellethorne is sharpened," gasped Ida.
"Oh! You mean she is fixed to travel on ice on frozen ground?"
"I 'ad to lead 'er up 'ere from the station, Miss. Ain't I saw you before, Miss?" said Hunchie, staring at Betty. "At Mr. Bolter's?"
"Yes, yes!" cried Betty. "Can the mare travel on this hard snow?"
"Yes, ma'am. I didn't draw the calks for I exercised 'er each d'y, I did. I didn't want 'er to fall. An' now I failed myself!"
The two girls looked at each other significantly. Ida was easily led out of the room. Betty put the question to her.
"That's just it, Betty," said the English girl, almost in tears. "I never learned to ride. I never did ride. My nurse was afraid to let me learn when I was little, and although I love horses, I only know how to drive them. It's like a sailor never having learned to swim."
Betty beat her hands together in excitement. "Never mind! Never mind!" she cried. "I can ride. I can ride any horse. I am not afraid of your Ida Bellethorne. And none of the boys or men is here. I'll go for the doctor."
"I don't know if it is best for you to," groaned Ida.
"Call Mrs. Candace." They were in the kitchen, and Ida ran to summon the farm woman while Betty got into her coat. Mrs. Candace came, hurrying.
"What is this I hear?" she demanded. "I couldn't let you ride that horse. You will be thrown or something."
"No I shan't, Mrs. Candace. I can ride. And Hunchie says the mare is sharpened."
"So she is. I had forgotten," the woman admitted thoughtfully.
"And the poor fellow suffers so. Some lasting harm may be done if we don't get a surgeon quickly. Where does Dr. Pevy live?" demanded Betty urgently.
The fact that the injured hostler was really in great pain and possibly in some danger, caused Mrs. Candace finally to agree to the girl's demand. Betty ran out with Ida to get the mare and saddle her. Betty was not dressed properly for such a venture as this; but she wore warm undergarments, and stout shoes.
