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Richmond, Grace S. (Grace Smith), 1866-1959

"The Second Violin"

"That crowd must have had a time
getting green wood to burn."
"We can do it." Doctor Churchill was feeling among the robes at his
feet. "I thought of it before we started, and put in a kerosene-can and
some newspapers. Hatchet, too."
Just got out of the sleigh and waded away toward a thick growth of
underbrush along the side of the road.
In ten minutes a roaring fire was leaping into the descending snowfall.
A pile of brush and some broken fence-rails were left with Charlotte,
the horses made as snug as possible, and then the two others jumped the
fence and plunged off into the snow.
Guided by glimpses of the apparently fitful fire of the sleighing party,
Doctor Churchill and Just made their way. Sometimes the course was
comparatively free from drifts; again they had to wallow nearly to their
waists.
"Confounded long way!" grunted Just. "Good thing we're both tough and
strong. Except for Jeff, there aren't any athletes in the Houghton
party."
"Don't I see somebody coming toward us?" Doctor Churchill asked,
presently.
The snowfall was lightening again, and the small flame in the distance
looked nearer.


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