“Taking it by and large, I believe it is the best thing to do,” commented Mac. “This little cabin does very well as a shelter from the storm, but it isn’t very comfortable.”
“It hasn’t been well taken care of,” answered Kent, looking around. “Some of the chinking is out between the logs, and that lets the air in. This table is thick with grease and looks like it never was cleaned.”
“Mr. Bronson has been renting it out for a long time,” explained Barry. He got up from the table. “After we have washed the dishes I’ll write a letter to my father and tell him that we have decided to move into the lodge—in fact, I’ll tell him everything. He might even run up here himself.”
“I hope we know something more definite by the time he does,” observed Mac.
Later in the evening Barry wrote a letter to his father relating events in detail and informing him of their contemplated move. While he was busily engaged at this, the other three boys were working on the broken runner board. Kent had decided to cut out a new one from a piece of board which he had found in the kitchen, and with the aid of ax and knife he managed to carve out a fair section of runner board. With the help of the twins he fitted it into place, and before long the job had been successfully completed.
Before they retired for the night Barry opened the door of the cabin and was surprised to see the soft white flakes falling. “It’s snowing,” he told his chums.
“Looks as though we are going to move into the lodge just in time,” Kent predicted.
“I hope that this doesn’t turn into a blizzard,” Barry thought.
CHAPTER XI
A Disturbed Night
The sight of the falling snow gave the boys a new channel for conversation, and they were slow about going to bed. They had put everything soft that they could find under their sleeping bags and looked forward to a fairly comfortable night in the log cabin. Since the snow had begun falling the air had become much warmer, and the inside of the little building was warm and inviting.