"I'll see about it," said Bert. "I'd like to see the hockey match very
much."

As soon as he got the chance Bert questioned his parent about going.

"I don't know about this," said Mr. Bobbsey slowly. "Do you think you
two boys can be trusted alone with the horse?"

"Oh, yes, papa. Bob has driven old Rusher many times."

"You must remember, Rusher used to be a race horse. He may run away
with Bob and you."

"Oh, but that was years ago, papa. He is too old to run away now. Please
say yes."

Bert continued to plead, and in the end Mr. Bobbsey gave him permission
to go to the hockey match.

"But you must be back before five o'clock," said he. "We are going to
start for home at that time."

The dinner was a fine one and tasted especially good to the children
after their long ride. But Bert and Bob were impatient to be off, and
left the moment they had disposed of their pieces of pie.

Old Rusher was a black steed which, in years gone by, had won many a
race on the track. He had belonged to a brother to Mr. Ramdell, who had
died rather suddenly two years before. He was, as Bert had said, rather