So the children stayed by the window and watched.
With their big, wooden shovels and the big clothes baskets in which to pile the snow they dug from the tunnel, Daddy Martin and Uncle Frank started off to their work.
As the children's father had said, there was a large drift near the front of the house. On one side it sloped sharply to the ground, making a sort of snow wall, almost straight up and down. It was in the middle of this snow wall that the tunnel hole was to be started.
"Well, here we go!" cried Uncle Frank, as he waved his shovel at the watching children in the window.
He made a jab into the snow wall, and cut out a big square chunk of whiteness. This he tossed back of him out of the way. For a time this could be done, and there was no need to use the baskets. But as the tunnel was dug farther in, the pile of white flakes would have to be carried out. As the tunnel was only going to be big enough for one person to walk in at a time, and not wide enough for two to go side by side, the two men were to take turns digging, one using the shovel and the other bringing out the clothes basket filled with snow which would be emptied outside.
"Oh, I can't see Uncle Frank any more!" cried Ted, who was eagerly watching with his sister and Trouble.
"Where's he gone?" asked Janet.
"He's dug a hole for himself inside the snow bank—in the tunnel—and I can't see him now. He's away inside! Oh, what fun! I wish we could be in there," he added.
"So do I," echoed Janet. "Maybe we can when it gets warmer and the snow stops coming down."