Louise gazed thoughtfully at the soft snow which was banking deeper on the windshield of the car.
“Two miles in this, facing the wind, will be a hard hike. Think we ought to try it, Penny?”
“I’m sure I don’t want to. And we needn’t either! Do you remember Salt Sommers?”
“The photographer who works on your father’s newspaper?”
“Yes, he spends his spare time as an airplane spotter. His station is over in the hills not more than a half mile from here! Why not tramp over there and ask him to telephone our folks?”
“Are you sure you know the way?”
“I was there once last summer,” Penny said confidently. “One follows a side road through the woods. I’m sure I can find it.”
“All right,” Louise consented, sliding from behind the steering wheel. “If we’re going, let’s move right along.”
Stiff with cold, the girls trudged past the club house and on down the road. Snow was falling faster and faster. Several times they paused to wipe their frosted goggles.
“This promises to be a man-sized blizzard,” Louise observed uneasily. “It’s getting dark early, too.”