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circle around the house and barn,” Frank said, “and see if we spot anything unusual.”
    The others nodded, and all four of them trudged around the house, looking for signs of Bernie or anything unusual. In the pasture on the west side of the barn, not too far from the driveway, they found a long, straight track in the snow.
    “Snowmobile?” Joe asked.
    Frank nodded.
    “I don’t remember anyone visiting on a snowmobile today,” Chet said.
    “And I don’t remember hearing one, either,” Iola added.
    “We might not hear them in this wind,” Joe commented, “but the tracks don’t look very fresh. See how the drifting snow has already filled in the tread marks?”
    “Whoever rode through here must have come while we were in the woods and the Mortons were away,” Frank deduced.
    “That seems a reasonable conclusion,” said Joe. “And if that’s true, whoever drove this snowmobile might have something to do with Bernie’s disappearance.”
    Frank snapped his fingers. “Remember that metalgrommet we found earlier? Maybe it was from some snowmobile gear—not motorcycle gear.”
    “That makes sense,” Joe said. He and the others gazed at the trail leading away from the barn.
    The tracks led through the pastures to the east. The friends couldn’t tell how far they went because the snowfall limited their vision.
    “Let’s follow the tracks,” Joe said.
    “It’d take a while on foot, and the snow is piling up pretty quick,” Frank noted. “Iola, do you think the horses would be up to another ride?”
    She shook her head. “Not in this weather,” Iola replied. “They’re probably still tired from our ride earlier.”
    Chet smiled. “We don’t need horses,” he said. “We’ve got something better.”
    He led the others to the barn, opened the doors, and pulled the tarp off the old car chassis. “The buggy will let us follow those tracks quicker than we could on horseback.”
    “Great idea,” Frank said, “if you think it’s up to running in this snow.”
    “It’ll be a blast,” Chet replied. “Though it might get a bit chilly—since the buggy doesn’t have any windows, or doors, or a body, or side panels, or . . .”
    “It wouldn’t be any worse than a snowmobile,” Iola countered. ‘We’re dressed for cold weather. Let’s do it.”
    Chet fetched the keys from a peg on the barn wall.He took the wheel while Frank took the passenger seat beside him. Joe and Iola sat on the bench seat in back, and they all buckled their seat belts.
    “Atomic batteries to power; turbines to speed,” Chet joked as he turned the key. Almost immediately, the old VW engine behind them sputtered to life.
    They pulled out of the barn into the driveway, stopping only long enough to close the barn doors behind them. They went east to the spot where they’d found the snowmobile tracks, then barreled off through the pasture in hot pursuit.
    All four teens held on tight as the buggy bounced and jostled over the snowy terrain. Snow blew hard into their faces, and finding exactly where they were going was tricky. Twice Chet barely turned in time to avoid some small farm ponds that appeared suddenly in their way.
    “Whoever was on that snowmobile knew the terrain pretty well,” Joe said. “They avoided those ponds too.”
    “Lucky for them,” Chet noted. “It hasn’t been cold long enough for a really good freeze. The ice on some of the larger ponds might not support a snowmobile yet.”
    “Or the buggy,” Iola noted, “so you better watch where you’re going, Chet.”
    “Will do, commander,” Chet replied jovially.
    They followed the tracks east, into the tall stand of pines that jutted down from the forest on thenorth. The trail became less distinct under the trees, but the evergreen branches sheltered the riders from the snow as well, making it easier to see.
    “Chances are, the dognapper followed the old road here,” Chet said as the tracks petered out under drifting snow. A wide trail kept