"Never does when it starts that
way. The larger the flakes the shorter the storm. Like a kid howling--the
louder he starts the sooner he quits."
"Well, that's worth knowing," said Tavia, laughing. "I won't feel so badly
next time the baby on my right starts in."
Meaning Nat, Tavia enjoyed her little joke, but the young man pretended
not to understand.
Lightly the Fire Bird flew along the hard road, and soon the tall trees of
old Tanglewood Park could be seen against the dull, dark landscape.
"We won't have time to get half a dozen trees, Doro," said Ned, "so if you
have it in mind to supply all the poor kids between here and Ferndale, as
you usually do, you had best cancel the contract."
"I did hope to get one for little Ben," confessed Dorothy. "He is always
so delighted when I tell him how things grow away out in the woods. Poor
little chap! Isn't it a pity he can never hope to be better?"
"It sure is," replied Ned, with more sympathy in his voice than in, his
words. "But I really think it will be dark very early this evening."
"Almost that now," put in Nat, who had been listening.
"Better for ghosts," declared Tavia. "I have always heard that no
respectable ghost ever comes out in the bold, broad light of day."
"Here we are!" announced Ned as he turned into the darkly-arched driveway
of Tanglewood Park.
"My, but it's spooky!" murmured Tavia, trying to crawl under the robes.
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