Harry, understanding that he was the chief object of the superintendent's concern, felt it incumbent upon him to take as hopeful a view of matters as possible, so he responded in his cheeriest tone,—
"Oh, we'll get there to-morrow afternoon right enough! We're more than half way to Wolf Hollow now, aren't we?"
"Yes, a good bit more; but there's the snow beginning. We must drive ahead as fast as we can. It'll soon be dark."
The horses accordingly were urged to the utmost speed possible, and, by dint of some rather reckless driving, Wolf Hollow was safely reached in the face of a blinding snowstorm ere the darkness fell.
At this place there stood a shanty which had been abandoned some years before, all the timber being cut in the neighbourhood, and here Mr. Maynard proposed to spend the night.
The building was found to be in good condition—quite storm-proof, in fact—and it did not take long to gather an abundant supply of firewood wherewith to expel the cold, damp air that filled it.
The horses could not be left out, of course, exposed to the pitiless storm, so they were allotted the farthest corner of the long, low room. The sleigh, too, was brought inside with all its contents.
A substantial supper was prepared and enjoyed, the horses were given a good feed of oats, and then both the travellers being thoroughly tired, they fitted up one of the bunks with the sleigh robes, and, so as to waste no heat, lay down side by side, and were soon sound asleep.
At daybreak the superintendent got up and hastened to see how matters looked outside. The prospect was anything but cheering.
Snow had been falling heavily all night, and there seemed no sign of its ceasing. All marks of the road were completely obliterated, and it would evidently test to the utmost his knowledge of woodcraft to keep in the right track.