"Now see what you've done!" he bawled, as the mules broke into a
gallop.

But Ruth was too frightened for the moment to speak. Her uncle had a
pair of mules, and she knew just how hard they were to manage. And
this pair were evidently looking toward supper. They flew up the
road, directly away from the railroad, and the wagon jounced about so
that she could only hold on with both hands.

"Stop them! Stop them!" she cried.

But that was much easier said than done. The animals had been
willing enough to start when given the word by a stranger; but now
they did not recognize their master's voice when the boy yelled:

"Yea-a! Yea-a!"

Instead of stopping, the mules went faster and faster. They had
their bits 'twixt their teeth and were running away in good earnest.

Almost immediately, when the bumping and jouncing wagon got away
from the store and the two or three neighboring houses, they were in
the deep woods. There were no farms--no clearings--not even an open
patch in the timber. The snow lay deep under the pines and firs. The
road had been used considerably since the last snow, and the ruts
were deep. Therefore the mules kept to the beaten track.

"Oh, stop them! stop them!" moaned Ruth, clinging to the swaying,
jouncing cart.