"Yes you would," Sunny Boy told her. "I think the girls ought to get
in the wagon and ride and we'll stay and walk with the horse. Then
he'll go home and we'll find out where he lives."

They argued a few minutes about this plan, but as no one could think of
a better one, the girls, Helen and Jessie and Dorothy, climbed into the
wagon and the four boys trudged along beside the horse who started to
walk slowly the minute Sunny Boy called "gid-ap" to him.

He wasn't a fast horse, and it did seem as though his home must be at
the very end of Centronia, for he continued to walk long after the boys
were lame and tired from slipping around in the snow. The three little
girls were more comfortable, for while the wagon was not warm, the
cover kept the snow off them.

"I never saw much a slow horse," grumbled Jessie, putting her head out
to see where they were, though it was impossible to tell because the
whirling snow hid everything.

"My feet are cold!" cried Dorothy Peters.

"I don't think this horse lives anywhere," shouted Helen, so that the
boys could bear her. "He's probably going out into the country and
we'll all freeze and Miss May will wonder where we went, and is she
does come looking for us, she'll never find us!"

Sunny Boy patted the horse gently.

"I guess you're cold, too," he said gently. "I wish I had a blanket