“That peril will be averted immediately,” he said coming back with his overalls removed, a coat over his arm and carrying his case in his other hand.  “That’s it, my dear.  Walk her up and down.  Such a beauty!”

He got out his light sleigh and then led Standby, a big, red-roan horse, out on the floor to harness him.

“These automobiles are all right when the snow doesn’t fly,” Dr. Pevy remarked.  “But up here in the hills we have so much snow that one has to keep a horse anyway or else give up business during the winter.  You were a plucky girl to come so far on that mare, my dear.  A Washington girl, you say?”

“We just came from Washington,” Betty explained.  “But I can’t really claim to belong there.  I—­I’m sort of homeless, I guess.  I do just love these mountains and this air.”

“This air,” commented Dr. Pevy, “smells just now of a storm.  And I think it may drizzle again.  Now, if you are ready, my dear.”

He unbuckled Ida Bellethorne’s bridle rein and made it a leading rein.  He helped Betty into the sleigh and gave her the rein to hold.  The mare led easily, and merely snorted when Standby leaned into the collar and started the sleigh.

The roan was heavy footed, and his shoes, too, were calked.  They started off from the village at a good jog with the blanketed black mare trotting easily behind the sleigh.

Betty tried to mould her velvet hat into shape.  It had been a hat that she very much prized, and was copied after one Ada Nansen wore, and Ada set the fashions at Shadyside.  But that little hat would never be the same again after being used as a goad for Ida Bellethorne.  Betty sighed, and gave up her attempt.

When they came to the place in the ravine where the wires were down Dr. Pevy drew up Standby.  The mare snorted, recognizing the spot.  But the electrical display was over, for the power had been turned off.

“You certainly must have had a narrow squeak here,” remarked the physician, as he looked at the fallen wires.

“Oh, Doctor, it was awful!” breathed Betty.  “I thought sure that we were going to have the worst kind of accident.”

“The company ought really to put up a new line of poles, so many of these are getting rotten,” was the doctor’s reply.  “But I suppose they are hard up for money these days, and can afford only the necessary repairs.”

The sleigh climbed the mountain after that to the Candace Farm.  As they came in sight of it Betty saw the troop of young stock being driven in through the lane, and saw Bob and Tommy with the stock farmer and his men.  It was well she had ventured for the doctor on the black mare, or poor Hunchie Slattery would have suffered much longer without medical attention.

Bobby ran out to meet them when the sleigh came into the yard.  Mrs. Candace stood at the back door explaining to the red-faced man, her husband.  It was Bob who came to take the leading rein of the black mare from Betty’s hand.