"That's dad, all right," murmured Jack admiringly. He had read the letter aloud for the benefit of the others.
"Oh, dear! I hope dad wasn't seriously hurt," murmured Fred.
"I think if our fathers were very badly hurt Uncle Dick would let us know," answered Randy. "He isn't one to hold back news—he knows we want the truth."
"If only this war was over!" remarked Andy, and now there was little of his usual light-heartedness in his tone. "I won't feel at ease until our soldiers are bound for home."
The six cadets talked over the letters they had received for some time. They had brought stationery with them, and they spent the evening writing letters in return.
"I don't see how we're going to get these down to Timminsport unless we walk down there," remarked Jack. "And a walk of five or six miles through this snow each way wouldn't be an easy job."
"I know what we can do," replied Gif. "We can skate down the river to a place called Henryville. There is a post-office there, and letters are sent over to Timminsport at least once a day."
"How far is it to Henryville?" questioned Randy.
"Oh, not more than three miles."