“That’s too bad,” said Mr. Renner. “Winter isn’t the best time to have lumbago—in fact, I don’t know when it is a good time to have it. Quite a storm we had. Lot of trains stalled, wires down and all that, I hear.”
“Trains stalled?” exclaimed Bert quickly. “When?”
“Oh, that happened yesterday when the storm was at its worst,” the druggist said, and Bert felt easier, for he thought his mother and father had reached Uncle Rossiter’s before they could have been snowed-in.
“And are the wires down?” Bert asked.
“Yes, a lot of telephone and telegraph wires are broken. My telephone is out of order and I don’t know when they’ll get it fixed.”
Bert took the liniment and went on to the post-office. There he found a number of men gathered about the letter window. Mr. Anderson, the postmaster, was speaking to them and Bert listened.
“There isn’t any mail in—hasn’t been for a couple of days,” said the postmaster. “I don’t know when there will be any. A lot of mail trains are stuck in the drifts. And the wires are down to a lot of places so I can’t get any word as to when the mail will arrive. You’ll just have to wait—that’s all. Blame it on the storm.”
Bert felt a sinking feeling around his heart. Still he made up his mind he was going to ask if there was any letter from his father or mother.