"There's only one thing to do," said Frank decidedly, "and that is to right about face and try to find the place where we turned off."
"Swell chance," muttered Tom. "It's getting dark now by the minute, and it'll be as black as pitch in a little while."
"I know it's a forlorn hope," admitted Frank, "but it's the only thing to do just the same, and even forlorn hopes have a way of winning out sometimes. We can't stand here and be frozen to death. Perhaps we'll find some of the fellows sent back to look for us. Get a hustle on now."
He set the pace, and they followed with a speed that under other conditions they would not have thought possible.
But fast as they went, the snow and the darkness came faster, and despite all their efforts they were not able to find where the paths diverged. Everywhere was one bleak wilderness of snow. Soon they had all lost the path they were following and found themselves floundering through the woods among the tree trunks. There was no use in going further, for in the dense darkness they were quite as likely to be going away from their comrades as toward them, and at last Frank called a halt.
"The storm's got us, fellows," he declared, with a forced laugh that had little mirth in it.
"All my fault," remarked Bart gloomily. "I guess I'm a Jonah, I picked out the wrong moment to take a tumble. Now we're in a fine mess."
"We've been in worse," said Billy cheerily, "and pulled through them just the same."
"That's the way to talk!" exclaimed Frank heartily, giving Billy a slap on the back. "We'll get out of this scrape as we have out of a lot of others. At the worst, it's only a matter of having to wait till daylight. We're worth a dozen dead men yet. At any rate we've got grub with us, so that there's no danger of our starving."
"How about freezing to death?" said Tom, who was always inclined to see the dark side of things.