“Footprints of two persons!” exclaimed Gus, who had been scanning the snow-covered ground in the vicinity of the trees and bushes.
“Where do they lead to?” asked Dave, eagerly.
“Here they are—you can follow them as easily as I can,” was the reply, and the heavy-set youth pointed out the tracks in the snow. They led all around the trees and bushes and then in the direction of the river. Here there were a jumble of tracks and further on the marks of skate runners.
“Stopped to put on their skates,” remarked the senator’s son.
“And they have skated off with all our things!” grumbled Buster Beggs. “What are we going to do?”
“Say, that puts me in mind of a story,” came quickly from Shadow. “Once two boys were out skating and——”
“For the sake of the mummies of Egypt, let up on the story-telling, Shadow!” burst out Phil. “Don’t you realize what this loss means to us? It’s bad enough to lose the hamper and clothing, but what are we to do in this snowstorm, with night coming on, and so far from Oak Hall without skates?”
“Humph! I guess we’ll have to walk,” grumbled the story-teller of the school. “But that will take time, and if this storm keeps up——”
“We’ll be snowed under!” finished Chip Macklin.
“Well, no use in staying here,” came from two of the students.