"I agree with you, Mary," returned Mr. Cameron, grimly, as he opened the door and saw for the first time just what they had to face. "But perhaps they'll pick up the girls on their way home. Trust those woodsmen for finding their way."
Tom and Bob followed him out of the house. They faced a wall of falling snow so thick that every object beyond arm's length from them was blotted out.
"Merciful heavens!" groaned Mr. Cameron. "Your sister and the girls will never find their way through this smother."
"Nor the men, either," said Tom, shortly.
"Oh, I say!" exclaimed Bob, "It can't snow like this for long; can it?"
"We have never seen a right good snowstorm in the woods," quoth Mr. Cameron. "From what the men tell me, this is likely to continue for hours. I am dreadfully worried about the girls—"
"What's that?" cried Tom, interrupting him.
A muffled shout sounded through the driving snow. In chorus Mr.
Cameron and the two boys raised their own voices in an answering shout.
"They're coming!" cried Bob.
"It is Long Jerry Todd and the men—hear the harness rattling?" returned Tom, and he started down the steps in the direction of the stables.