Van was now choking so badly that the greatest kindness seemed to be not
to look at him. Accordingly the little company turned their eyes away,
and regarded each other instead.

"Well, so Dick rolled off?" proceeded the old gentleman.

"Oh! no, he didn't," said all three boys together; "he stuck fast to the
double ripper; we ran into a tree, and Dick was pitched off head-first."

"But honestly and truly, father," said Jasper, "I do not think that it
was the fault of the steerer."

"Indeed it was not," declared Ben stoutly; "there was an ugly little
gully that we hadn't seen under the snow. We'd been down four or five
times all right, but only missed it by a hair-breadth; this time the
ripper struck into it; I suppose Dick felt it bump, as it was on his
side, and sang out, and as quick as lightning we were against that tree.
It was as much my fault as any one's, and more, because I ought to have
known that old hill thoroughly."

"I share the blame, Ben," broke in Jasper, "old fellow, if you pitch
into yourself, you'll have to knock me over too."

"Come here, Vanny," said old Mr. King, holding out his hand. "Why, you
needn't be afraid, my boy," aghast at the tears that no power on earth
could keep back. "Now all leave the room, please."

"Where's Polly?" asked Ben, on the other side of the door.