Marty had the grace to blush, cold as it was! “I forgot, Mr. Haley. You see, everybody around here talks careless-like.”
“Not Janice, I’ll be bound,” said the school teacher, cheerfully. “And by the way, is she at home?”
“Janice? Crackey! she ain’t, but she ought to be,” exclaimed Marty. “Mother told me she went up into the woods to see those Trimminses.”
“Those squatters in Elder Concannon’s woods?”
“Yes, sir! And she’d ought to be back,” said Marty, troubled. “She might get lost in this snow.”
“You are right,” said Nelson, with equal gravity. “Little Lottie was lost in it and we only brought her in an hour ago. Come! let’s go to meet Janice.”
“In a minute!” cried Marty, starting for the kitchen door. “Wait till I tell Marm. Come in and get a warm?”
“I stopped at Massey’s and got some hot chocolate. I’m warmly dressed,” returned Nelson. “Let us hurry.”
The boy and his teacher were off in another minute. Mr. Day was not at home or he would have gone with them. Facing the storm on the mountain road was no pleasant adventure. The snow had become needle-sharp now, and cut their faces sorely. The stronger gusts of wind buffeted the pair until they were glad to cling to each other’s hands.
“My goodness!” gasped Nelson. “I hope that either Janice did not start back from that house, or she has gone in somewhere.”