Old Mr. Weller devoted his time to charity, including the Downtown Council, while his son ran the law firm bearing their name. The son was, of course... called Young Mr. Weller. No one called him that to his face, but everyone knew who you meant. He was the fourth generation Weller to head the law firm. They were our city’s ‘royal family’. Old Mr. Weller probably liked the idea of a no-trousers party because, at the age of seventy, he still jogged four miles every day. He didn’t need to worry. Sam's arms were wrapped around Sally's waist and she held on tight. It was an exhilarating ride across the cold and wind swept fields. The noise of the straining engine echoed across the valleys as the snowmobile ploughed across the snow.Sally handled the powerful machine like an expert. She had learned to ride when she was very young and routinely beat her father in races. However, she was somewhat of a daredevil in nature.As they sped across the powdery snow at forty miles an hour, Sam became. More

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