"Oh, they must have the streets broken, after a fashion, and some sort of paths on the main sidewalks," responded Tom Reade judicially.
All were now at the windows, looking out over the scene. At only two of the windows, however, could a level view be obtained; the two others were completely blocked by piled up snow. The rest of the windows could be used for observation purposes when the Grammar School lads placed boxes on which to stand.
"The snow looks soft yet," declared Dave.
"It is soft; you can see that in the way that the wind catches it up in flurries," Dick argued.
"Then we can't get far in it to-day," decided Tom Reade. "We can't travel far over the snow until we have a cold spell for twenty-four hours that will freeze the top of the snow into a hard crust."
"When that crust comes we just will travel," muttered Dave.
"Getting tired of camp?" grinned Dalzell.
"No, Danny Grin; but you forget something."
"What?"
"We've got a duty to perform. As soon as we can get where there's a telephone, we've got to send word to the Gridley folks that Mr. Fits is in these parts."