“The horse can never travel to-day,” she groaned.  “You saw how he slipped about in the soft snow the other day when they had him out.  He is not shod properly.”

“If you only had Ida Bellethorne here!” cried Betty.

“But she is a long way off, and in the wrong direction.  Why, none of us could walk on this ice!”

“How about skating?” cried Bobby eagerly.

“Mr. Canary says it is all downhill—­or mostly to the railroad station,” Betty said.  “I would be afraid to skate downhill.”

They dressed quickly and hastened to find Uncle Dick.  He had long been up and had evidently canvassed the situation thoroughly.  His face was very grave when he met his niece and her friends.

“This is a bad lookout for our trip,” he said.  “I don’t really see how any of you will get to school on Monday, let alone Ida’s reaching New York to-morrow morning.”

“Oh, Uncle Dick, don’t say that!” cried Betty.  “Is it positive that we cannot ride or walk?”

“Walk twenty miles downhill on ice?” he exclaimed, “Does it seem reasonable?  We can neither ride nor walk; and surely we cannot swim or fly!”

“We could fly if we had an aeroplane.  Oh, dear!” sighed Bobby.  “Why didn’t we think of that?  And now the telephone wires are down.”

But Betty was thoughtful.  She only pinched Ida’s arm and begged her to keep up her courage—­perhaps something would turn up.  She disappeared then and was absent from the house, cold as the morning was, until breakfast time.

The whole party had gathered then, excited and voluble.  It was not only regarding Ida’s need that they chattered so eagerly.  In spite of the fun they were having at Mountain Camp, the thought that Shadyside and Salsette might begin classes before they could get there was, after all, rather shocking.

“Measles is one thing,” said Bob.  “But being out of bounds when classes really begin is another.  The other fellows will learn some tricks that we don’t know.”

“And somebody else may be put in our room, Betty!” wailed Bobby, as her chum now appeared.

Betty was very rosy and full of something that was bound to spill over at once.  As soon as she had bidden Mr. and Mrs. Canary good morning she cried to all: 

“What do you think!”

“Just as little as possible,” declared Tommy Tucker.  “Thinking tires me dreadfully.”

“Behave, Tommy!” said Louise admonishingly.

“There’s a big two-horse pung here.  I found it in the barn.  Like Mr. Jaroth’s.  It has a deep box like his.  And a tongue.  It’s like a double-runner sled, Bob—­you know.  The front runners are independent of the rear.”

“I know what it is, Betty,” said Bob, while the others stared at her.  “I’ve seen that pung.”

“Your observations are correct, Miss Betty,” said Mr. Canary, smiling at the girl.  “I own such a pung.  But I do not own two horses to draw it.  And I am sorry to say that the horse I have got cannot stand on this ice.”