"That's good. Are my things all right?"

"Everything seems to be here," said Charley Mason, who was standing
beside Bert. "I know who he is now," went on Charley in a low tone to
his chum. "He's Mr. James Carford, of Newton."

"He's lame," observed Bert, for the man limped slightly.

"Yes, he was in the war," went on Charley. "He's real rich, too, but
peculiar, they say."

By this time aged Mr. Carford was looking over the team and the sled
and its contents. He seemed weary and out of breath.

"Yes, everything is all right," he said slowly. "I hope no one was
hurt by my runaways, I never knew 'em to do that before. I left 'em
outside the store a minute while I went in to get something, and they
must have taken fright. I hope no one was hurt."

"No, everyone got out of the way in time," said Bert.

"That's good. Who stopped the horses?" the old man asked.

"Bert Bobbsey," answered Frank Miller. "He warned his sister and the
other girls to steer to one side, and then he threw snow at the horses
and made them fall down. Then they slowed up so we could grab 'em."

"Ha! Bert Bobbsey did that, eh?" exclaimed aged Mr. Carford. "So this
is the second time a Bobbsey has mixed up in my family affairs. The
second time," and Mr. Carford looked at Bert in a peculiar manner.