“Now that our telephone service is gone we’re completely isolated,” she declared. “Snowbound.”
Mrs. Gordon and the Brownie troop leader talked quietly together, deciding what must be done. They knew that in another hour or two, all the wood would be gone.
“If necessary, we can burn the furniture,” Mrs. Gordon decided. “I would hate to do it, though.”
Miss Gordon and the Brownies thought they might be able to shovel a path to the woodpile. All they had to work with was a coal shovel, for the regular snow shovel had been left at the barn.
Taking turns, they dug and dug. It was hard, slow work. After an hour of shoveling, they had not cleared a path even a third of the way.
“We’ll never be done at this rate,” said Miss Gordon.
Just then, she and the Brownies heard a shrill whistle. Miss Gordon lifted Connie up on her shoulders, so she could see above the top of the drift to the barn.
“Why, it’s Mr. Stone!” she shouted.
The man had snowshoed across the fields and now was shoveling away a drift which blocked the barn door.
“Hi, there!” he called. “Need help here?”