The boys were sorry for the old man, but after a while he was quiet and soon his heavy breathing indicated that he had fallen asleep.
"I hope Aunt Gertrude and mother aren't worrying too much," said Frank, as he prepared to undertake first watch.
"It can't be helped," said Joe, wrapping his blanket around him. "We'll be able to get back to-morrow."
"We might take the old man with us," Chet suggested sleepily. "He is pretty well bruised and battered, and he won't be able to live here until the cabin is fixed up again."
"That's a good idea." Frank put another stick of wood in the stove. "You have next watch, Chet. May as well get all the sleep you can."
In a few minutes there was scarcely a sound in the cottage save the crackling of the fire. The timbers of the building creaked and groaned as the night wind hurled itself against the fragile shelter. Snow slashed against the roof. Frank Hardy shivered. He was glad they had obtained even this refuge from the blizzard.
CHAPTER IV
A Tale of the West
Next morning the storm still raged, and although its fury had somewhat abated the snow was still falling so heavily and the wind was still blowing with such intensity that the boys decided to wait in the shelter of the wrecked cabin in the hope that the blizzard would die down. They were comfortable enough where they were and, after they had eaten breakfast, they even began to enjoy their predicament as an adventure which their school chums would envy.