“Tell me quickly,” urged Mrs. McGuire. “Has my daughter been injured?”

Just then, the rear door of the sedan swung wide. Veve, her face streaked with tears, had been asleep on the back seat. She stumbled out looking drowsy-eyed, but very much alive and ashamed.

“Hello, Mother,” she said. “Here I am!”

Mrs. McGuire ran down the sidewalk to clasp28 Veve in her arms. She was so happy to see her that she did not say a word about all the trouble that had been caused.

28

The car driver told Mr. Williams his name was Fred Clayhorn and that he was a drug salesman.

“Hope you haven’t worried too much about this little scamp,” he said, smiling at Veve. “I didn’t discover she had hitched her sled to my car until I was miles out in the country.”

“A filling-station man saw me and yelled for Mr. Clayhorn to stop,” explained Veve.

“Fortunately, I am a slow driver,” added Mr. Clayhorn. “Otherwise, I am afraid the little girl might have been thrown from her sled and seriously injured.”

Although Veve had not been hurt, she looked rather the worse for her adventure. The fast sled ride had not been any fun.

Ice had slashed into her face and her snowsuit was caked with mud and slush. She was all worn out too, from clinging so tightly to the bouncing sled.

“Thanks for bringing me home, Mr. Clayhorn,” she told him gratefully. “I never, never want to take another ride like that one.”

“I hope you never do,” he replied. “Next time you might not be so lucky.”

While the grownups talked, Connie helped Veve29 remove her sled from the luggage compartment of the gray sedan. One of the runners was bent where it had struck a stone in the road.

29

She was showing the place to Connie when her mother called: “Come, Veve! You must have a hot bath and climb right into bed. We’ll talk about this escapade later!”

“That means I’ll catch it!” Veve whispered to Connie. She was so tired, though, that she didn’t mind being put to bed.

After Mr. Clayhorn had driven away, Connie and her parents went into their 

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