"Now, who's interrupting?" Jack demanded.
"Eet 'bout ein o'clock. All go bon till we geet most half way back an' then that Slack dog heem geet seek, ver' seek, an' we have stop. Injun no know what matter with dog. Heem act like heem got belly ache ver' bad. Got no medicine so have to rub heem belly ver' long time an' tink mebby heem goin' die. Injun no want dog die, dey too bon dog. So keep on rubbin' an' when eet begin geet dark dog begin geet better, but heem still some seek. So put heem on sled an' start, but een leetle while Pete dog heem geet seek and have stop rub heem long time. When heem geet better have go ver' slow an' begin snow, have go slow some more. No geet here till leetle while ago. But Injun geet here."
"You bet you did," Jack burst out.
"How ankle? Heem ver' bad?"
"It's coming along fine now. Reckon I can walk on it tomorrow."
"I'm not so sure about that," Bob said with a shake of his head.
"How long's this storm going to last, Lucky?" Jack asked.
"No can tell. Mebby not ver' long."
"I don't see why it doesn't make a continuous performance of it and be done with it. Then one would know what to expect," Jack growled.
"Don't be pessimistic," Bob advised. "Now that Lucky's back we can stand a little snow, I reckon."