“Oh, shut up your squalling. I’m not going to bite you.”
“Je-ru-sa-lem!” murmured Sammy. “What’s this?”
In a minute he was reassured, for the sled was torn away and a head and shoulders appeared down the opening through the drift.
“Hello!” exclaimed the voice again. “How did you get here? How many of you are there?”
“Two girls and a boy. And we slid here,” said Sammy, gulping down a big lump in his throat.
“Girls?” gasped the stranger, who seemed to be very little older than Sammy himself. “Girls out in this blizzard?”
“No. We’re all safe in here under the tree,” said Sammy, with some indignation. “I wouldn’t let ’em stay out in the storm.”
“Oh!” exclaimed the stranger. “And do you intend to stay here till it stops snowing?”
“Why not?” demanded Sammy.
“That won’t be until tomorrow—maybe next day,” was the cheerful response. “I guess you don’t know much about storms up here in the woods.”