"Wait! we'll keep together," commanded Mr. Cameron. "I hope they have brought the girls with them."
"Oh, but the girls didn't go toward the swamp," returned his son.
"They started due north."
"Shout again!" commanded Mr. Cameron, and the two parties kept shouting back and forth until they met not far beyond the outbuildings belonging to the lodge. The great pair of draught horses were ploughing through the drifts and the three men were whooping loudly beside them.
"Dangerous work this, for you, sir," cried Long Jerry. "You'd all better remained indoors. It's come a whole lot quicker than I expected. We're in for a teaser, Mr. Cameron. Couldn't scarce make out the path through the woods."
"Have you seen the girls, Jerry?" cried Tom Cameron.
"Bless us!" gasped the tall guide. "You don't mean that any of them gals is out of bounds?"
"All six of them went into the woods—toward the north—about two hours ago. They went on snowshoes," said Tom.
The three woodsmen said never a word, but standing there in the driving snow, at the heads of the horses, they looked at each other for some moments.
"Well," said Jerry, at last, and without commenting further on Tom's statement; "we'd best put up the horses and then see what's to be done."
"To the north, Tom?" said his father, brokenly. "Are you sure?"