“Well, the boys are in good heart,” said Uncle Dick, and the long breath that came up from his broad chest showed the relief he felt.
“I knowed we’d find them keerless fellers all right,” said Dick Lewis.
“And here’s something else that I can’t quite make out,” said Frank, still studying the writing on the tree. “Archie always writes a horrible hand when he’s in a hurry.”
“Perhaps his fingers were cold,” said Walter.
“It is dated November [16],” continued Frank.
“That was yesterday,” said Uncle Dick, with some uneasiness. “No bad news, I hope. Try and make it out if you can.”
Frank lightly brushed off the snow, taking care not to erase the pencil-marks, and then slowly read, spelling out each word, a sentence that created as great a commotion as a thunderbolt would have done, had it suddenly fallen into the midst of the party:
“We have found Chase, and he is well.”
“What!” cried Uncle Dick.
“That’s what I make it,” said Frank, breaking away from the tree to make room for Perk and the rest of the boys, who came plunging through the drift. “I shouldn’t wonder if your missing friend had turned up at last.”