Van Bibber put on his great-coat and told the man to bring around the dog-cart; then he filled his pockets with cigars and placed a flask of brandy under the seat, and wrapped the robes around his knees.

“I feel just like a relief expedition to the North Pole.  I think I ought to have some lieutenants,” he suggested.

“Well,” cried one of the men, “suppose we make a pool and each chip in fifty dollars, and the man who brings the dog back in time gets the whole of it?”

“That bet of mine stands, doesn’t it?” asked Van Bibber.

The men said it did, and went off to put on their riding things, and four horses were saddled and brought around from the stable.  Each of the four explorers was furnished with a long rope to tie to Duncan’s collar, and with which he was to be led back if they found him.  They were cheered ironically by the maidens they had deserted on compulsion, and were smiled upon severally by Miss Arnett.  Then they separated and took different roads.  It was snowing gently, and was very cold.  Van Bibber drove aimlessly ahead, looking to the right and left and scanning each back yard and side street.  Every now and then he hailed some passing farm wagon and asked the driver if he had seen a stray collie dog, but the answer was invariably in the negative.  He soon left the village in the rear, and plunged out over the downs.  The wind was bitter cold, and swept from the water with a chill that cut through his clothes.

“Oh, this is great,” said Van Bibber to the patient horse in front of him; “this is sport, this is.  The next time I come to this part of the world I’ll be dragged here with a rope.  Nice, hospitable people those Arnetts, aren’t they?  Ask you to make yourself at home chasing dogs over an ice fjord.  Don’t know when I’ve enjoyed myself so much.”  Every now and then he stood up and looked all over the hills and valleys to see if he could not distinguish a black object running over the white surface of the snow, but he saw nothing like a dog, not even the track of one.

Twice he came across one of the other men, shivering and swearing from his saddle, and with teeth chattering.

“Well,” said one of them, shuddering, “you haven’t found that dog yet, I see.”

“No,” said Van Bibber.  “Oh, no.  I’ve given up looking for the dog.  I’m just driving around enjoying myself.  The air’s so invigorating, and I like to feel the snow settling between my collar and the back of my neck.”

At four o’clock Van Bibber was about as nearly frozen as a man could be after he had swallowed half a bottle of brandy.  It was so cold that the ice formed on his cigar when he took it from his lips, and his feet and the dashboard seemed to have become stuck together.

“I think I’ll give it up,” he said, finally, as he turned the horse’s head towards Southampton.  “I hate to lose three hundred and fifty dollars as much as any man; but I love my fair young life, and I’m not going to turn into an equestrian statue in ice for anybody’s collie dog.”