But Betty had jumped up to look and she said eagerly:
"Do you mean the man with the silk handkerchief over his head? He must be asleep, or trying to sleep."
"I tell you he is just a fresh kid," said Tommy Tucker. "And I'm going to fix him."
"Now, boys, be careful what you do," advised Louise, who occasionally considered it her duty to put on a sober, admonishing air.
Tommy, however, started for the nearest exit to the platform of the car. He was gone some time, and when he reappeared he carried in both hands a great soggy snowball, bigger than the biggest grapefruit.
"Gee, folks!" he whispered, "it's snowing, and then some! I never saw such a snow. And the porter says it is likely to get worse the farther north we go. Suppose we should be snowbound?"
There was a chorus of cries—of fearful delight on the part of the girls, at least—at this announcement.
"Never mind," Bob Henderson said, "we have a dining car hitched to this train, so we sha'n't starve I guess, if we are snowed up. What are you going to do with that snow, Tommy?"
The Tucker twin winked prodigiously. "I'm going to take it up the aisle and show it to Mr. Gordon. He doesn't know it's snowing like this," said the boy quite soberly.
"Why, Tommy Tucker!" cried Betty, "of course Uncle Dick knows it is snowing. Can't he see it through the window?"