"Queer, I would have bet I saw spruce in this grove."
"I'll tell you," exclaimed Nat. "Tanglewood Park. That's the very place
for a choice selection of real old cheroot spruces."
"Yes," groaned Ned, "five miles away."
"I don't think it's very cold," ventured Dorothy.
"But the air is full of snow," announced Ned.
"Well, do we go to Tanglewood Park or back to The Cedars?" asked Ned.
"How long will it take to go to the Park?" questioned Dorothy.
"Oh, we may as well try it," concluded Ned, turning the Fire Bird in the
direction of the open road and starting off.
"Your haunted house, you know, Tavia," said Nat as they whizzed along.
"Now we will, have a chance to make the very intimate acquaintance of a
real, up-to-date ghost."
"Oh, is that the place?" said Tavia in surprise. "Well, I'll just be
tickled to death to pay a visit there. I have never quite made up my mind
whether the light was in the house or--"
"A halo around the head of old Bagley, your tongue-tied driver. Now, take
it from me, Tavia, it was simply the brilliancy of your own--"
"Oh, here, quit!" called Ned from the front seat. "If there is one thing I
like more than another on a day like this it isn't spooning."
"There's the snow!" announced Dorothy as some very large, lazy flakes
tumbled down into the laps of the party in the Fire Bird.
"Won't amount to much," Nat predicted.
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