He grabbed up Lottie again and plunged on. Somebody was either searching for them, or——
Could it be another person in trouble? “I guess I’m right in the game of rescue to-night,” muttered the school teacher. “I wonder who this is?”
He put all his strength into another call. An answering cry sounded almost above his head.
“Sounds as though he were in a flying machine!” gasped Nelson, staring up into the smother of snow.
And then suddenly he discovered that there was the bulk of some rigid object up there, above his head. He looked up at it in surprise. What could it be? How far had they come?
“Hello!” The muffled voice came down to him, and Nelson, setting Lottie down once more, yelled up in return:
“Hello, yourself! Where are you?”
“Up on the bridge!” cried the other voice, this time more clearly. There was a little lull in the gale and Nelson immediately understood.
“We’re at the bridge—I declare we are!” he said. “And that is Frank Bowman, the civil engineer.”
“Mr. Bowman! I know him, too,” cried Lottie. “Do you s’pose he’s hungry for supper—and co-cold?”