CHAPTER XII.
VISITORS.
As Lucky had predicted the storm blew itself out during the night and the stars were shining in a clear sky when they ate breakfast shortly after seven o'clock.
"How um foot feel?" Lucky asked when the meal was over.
"Fine's a fiddle," Jack assured him and to convince him that he was telling the truth he took a few steps with only a slight limp.
"You no can walk on foot today. Mebby tomorrow, oui."
"Sure I can. Why it doesn't hurt hardly any."
"Lucky's right, old man, and you know it. As long as it hurts at all it would be foolish to think of trying to walk on snow-shoes," Bob added.
"But couldn't I ride on the sled?" Jack asked.
"No can do. Too mooch snow mak' eet too hard for dog. Eet keel um."