They traveled through the snow-
covered woods most of the way. There were few farms and no
settlements at all until they reached Pine Camp.
The road was not well beaten and they could not have got through
some of the drifts with less spirited ponies than the roans.
When they crossed the long bridge over the river and swept into
the village street, Nan was amazed.
Likewise, her heart sank a little. There was not a building in
the place more than a story and a half in height. Most of them
were slab cottages. Few yards were fenced. There were two
stores, facing each other on the single street of the town, with
false-fronts running up as tall as the second story would have
been had there been a second story.
The roans dashed through the better beaten path of the street,
with everybody along the way hailing Henry Sherwood vociferously.
The giant waved his hand and shouted in reply. Nan cowered
between him and Tom, on the seat, shielding her face from the
flying snow from the ponies' hoofs, though the tears in her eyes
were not brought there only by the sting of the pelting she
received.
Chapter XII
"HOME WAS NEVER LIKE THIS"
The roan ponies dashed through the slab settlement, past the
blacksmith and wheelwright shop and the ugly red building Tom
told Nan was the school, and reached a large, sprawling,
unpainted dwelling on the outskirts of the village.
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