"Too bad," muttered the man.
Nothing more was said for a few minutes, and the girls walked painfully on, guided by their companion. At last they came to a small cabin, with an oil lamp lighted inside. It looked like Heaven to Linda and Louise.
"I'll give you some food, and let you have the place for the night," offered the man, generously. "I was going off anyhow."
"Oh, no!" protested Linda. "We mustn't drive you out in the cold!" And, seeing that the cabin had two rooms—a living-room and a kitchen, she immediately added, "We can easily sleep in the kitchen."
"No, I expect to be out all night anyway." He went out into the kitchen and made them some hot coffee, and fried bacon and produced crackers and a can of beans.
"Nothing in my life ever tasted half so good!" cried Louise, gratefully, as she ate ravenously, while her host stood there a moment watching both of the girls.
"Now tell me," he said, "what you two young ladies were doing flying a plane up here on the border in the dead of winter?"
"We've been to Canada," explained Linda, "to visit a Convent where some nuns make this lovely lace-work." She took her handkerchief out of her pocket, and showed it to the man, though she realized it would not be possible for him to appreciate it. "My father buys this, and sells it again."
"Oh, ho!" exclaimed the man, significantly, opening his eyes and his mouth wide, knowingly. "I see."
"What do you see?" asked Louise, sharply.