A moment later he and the lumbermen were standing over the figure of a man, partly buried in the snow.
“Why, it’s Jim! Old Jim Bimby!” exclaimed Jim Denton. “I know him. He lives several miles from here. He must have been lost in the storm, too. Jim! Jim!” he cried. “What you doing here?”
“I—I started to town for victuals,” said old Jim Bimby, in faint tones. “The storm was too much for me. I was about giving up.”
“We heard you call,” said Tom Case.
“Did you see anything of two small children?” eagerly asked Mr. Bobbsey. “Twins, a boy and a girl! Did you see them?”
Anxiously he bent over to catch the old logger’s answer.
CHAPTER XIV—SNOWED IN
Having been out in the cold and storm so long, Jim Bimby seemed to have become half frozen. He did not appear to understand what Mr. Bobbsey asked him. The old logger staggered to his feet, helped by some of the men from Cedar Camp, and looked about him.
“What’s the matter?” asked Old Jim in a faint voice. “Did something happen? I remember startin’ off to get—to get something to eat for my wife and me. Then I fell down, tired out, I guess.”
“I guess you did!” exclaimed Tom Case. “And if we hadn’t found you, you’d have been done for. We must get you to shelter.”