As it happened, however, neither the shopping nor the skating was done on
this particular Saturday night.

As Bobby Hargrew ran to telephone to the hospital, Short and Long had
grabbed the wrists of his two older and taller boy friends and led them out
of the crowd in a very mysterious way.

"Did you get a good look at that car?" he whispered to Chet and Lance.

"Of course I didn't," said the latter. "It went up the street like the
wind. Didn't it, Chet?"

"That rascal was going some when he turned the corner of Rapidan Street. I
wonder he did not skid again and smash his car to pieces against the
hydrant. Served him right if he had," Chet said.

"There were no chains on his wheels," said Short and Long, in the same
mysterious way.

"You said it," agreed Lance. "What then?"

"There are not many cars in Centerport right now without chains on. The
streets have been icy for more than twenty-four hours."

"Your statement is irrefutable," said Chet, grinning.

"Get it off your chest, Short and Long," begged Lance. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," said the earnest lad, "that I know a car that was out this