“To-morrow’s Thursday,” thought Ned, as he crawled under his overcoat, which he once more used as a blanket. “I wonder if the boys arrived to-day? What could they have thought when they saw the house closed? Oh, I wish I could find them. If this keeps on I’ll have to pawn my overcoat for something to eat, and it looks as if it would snow to-morrow. What a pickle I’m in!”
Then, in spite of his troubles he fell asleep, for he was very tired.
CHAPTER XXII
OUT IN THE STORM
The telegram from Ned’s father, which the three chums received that Wednesday evening, telling them their friend was not at his home in Darewell, was a great shock to them.
“Why,” remarked Bart, as he picked up the message he had dropped, “it hardly seems possible. I wonder where in the world he can be. He starts for home but he never arrives.”
“Are we sure he started for home?” asked Frank.
“Why of course,” Fenn answered. “Didn’t the telegram from Mrs. Kenfield say so?”