Betty was nervously glancing at the sky now and then.
"Do hurry!" she urged her chums.
"Oh, don't fuss so," advised Mollie. "You won't enjoy your food if you do."
"But I'm sure it's going to storm."
"Let it!" said Will recklessly.
Five minutes later the first flakes began falling. This brought even Will to a sense of possible danger. The things were hurriedly collected, the young people got into the Spider and the sail was hoisted. Off they glided down the river toward their camp.
"We'll beat the storm there!" boasted Will.
"I don't know about that," said Allen slowly, as he cast a glance aloft. "It looks to me as though it was going to come down hard soon. And the wind is freshening."
The white flakes did increase in volume a little later and the wind sighed mournfully through the pine trees on shore, and through the rigging of the ice boat.
Then, with a suddenness that was almost terrifying, the storm broke over them in a fury so often witnessed in wintry outbursts. The snow was blinding, and was whipped into their faces by an ever-increasing wind.