"What's become of the lights, Bob? I can't see them a bit; can you?"
"N-n-no," panted Bob. "Let's turn back."
"THE FORMS OF THE TWO BOYS WERE EXPOSED TO VIEW."
"No use in that," replied Phil, turning round. "I can't see those behind us either. There's nothing for it but to push ahead."
"O Phil! are we lost?" asked Bob, with quivering lips.
Phil was more than half afraid they were; but to reassure Bob he answered cheerfully,—
"It's all right. I know how to steer. Come along." And grasping Bob's hand he started off again.
On and on they plodded through storm and snow, Phil half dragging Bob, who, between fright and real weariness, found difficulty in making progress at all. For half-an-hour more they struggled thus, until at last Bob dropped his brother's hand and flung himself down in the snow, sobbing out despairingly,—
"It's no use, Phil, I'm dead beat; you'll have to go on without me."