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"Then he's there," spoke Dave to Hiram. "All right, take us to Fernwood." "You won't find anybody stirring at this hour of the morning," suggested the chauffeur. "Then we'll Wait till the Colonel gets up," said Dave. In less than half an hour the auto came to a halt before one of a score or more of fine houses lining the most exclusive section of the country boulevard.
"Well, Twaddles, this consignment got side-tracked and it's some new office equipment your father wants right away; it is quicker to drive over and get it, than have it re-routed." Twaddles said "Oh," and immediately wanted to know how many miles it was to Fernwood. "Ten or twelve," said Sam. "And mind you dress warmly enough." "Oh, I have lots to wear," Twaddles assured him.
He has a very fine place called Fernwood, out on the North Boulevard." Dave thought things over for a minute or two. Then he asked: "How can I reach Fernwood?" "You don't mean before daylight?" "Why, yes," responded Dave, "the sooner the better." "I think any of the taxi men out at the curb know the location," said the clerk.
They were soon off the cross road and when they turned into the main highway, the going was much easier. There were many cars and a few other sleighs on this road and most of them were going toward Fernwood. The four little Blossoms had been to that town before, with their daddy in the car, and they knew where the post-office was.
"Afte' I lef' Mr. Lampton I'se come here an' went to work fer Mr. Enoch at Fernwood when his mill was jes a old rattletrap of a mill. I work fer him 45 years. At fust I hauled timber out'n de woods an' afte' whil'st I hauled lumber to town to build houses. I sometimes collec' fer de lumber but I niver lost one nickle, an' dem white folks says I sho' was a honest nigger.
"Now what do you know about that?" said Sam. "What shall we do with the thing? It isn't yours, even if you did find it." "But let's take it with us," Meg urged. "We can put up signs in the Fernwood post-office the way they do in Oak Hill when anything is lost and found. You know how, Sam?" "Bring it along, then," yielded Sam.
"I lived here on dis spot an' rode a wheel to Fernwood every day, an' fed de teams an' hitched 'em to de wagons an' I was niver late an' niver stopped fer anything, an' my wheel niver was in de shop. I niver 'lowed anybody to prank wid it, an' dat wheel was broke up by my gran'chulluns. "Afte I quit work at de mill I'se come home an' plow gardens fer de white folks an' make some more money.
"Yes, the dog can go too the more the merrier, as far as I am concerned. No, you can't drive I have to keep my mind busy some way and driving is a good plan." "Why are we going to Fernwood?" asked Twaddles. "Daddy said it was about freight." "And you don't see why we slight the Oak Hill station is that it?" Sam returned good-naturedly.
"Our trucks are having trouble breaking the roads and this fresh fall is discouraging for people who want to work. I've a good mind to get out the old box sleigh and hire a horse and let Sam drive to Fernwood for that freight consignment," he said to Mother Blossom. But Meg's quick little brain understood at once. "Daddy!" she cried, the loveliest rose color coming into her cheeks.
The post-office clerk laughed and said that wasn't a lost car. "It belongs to Mayor Pace, of Fernwood," he explained. "He couldn't get through last night and he left the car there. His son is going to tow it out this afternoon, I believe." "About the sled it isn't mine," said Mr. Mendam. "I think we'd better have that on the lost and found board. Do you want to write the notice?"
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