“I wish we could.”
For several hundred yards the girls followed the road, then once more they cut across the fields toward the winding river. As they approached the Parker property their misgivings increased. All along the water front, trees had been toppled and split. In sections there were wide paths cut as if by a scythe.
“The cottage is still there!” Penny cried as they presently ascended to higher ground. “I can see it.”
“Several trees are down,” observed Louise. “One has fallen across the porch.”
“A beautiful birch, too,” murmured Penny. “Anchor Joe will have a job clearing it away.”
Approaching the cottage, the girls saw no glimpse of the workman. Penny called his name several times.
“I wonder where he went?” she murmured.
The girls rounded the corner of the cottage. As their eyes fell upon the giant birch which had demolished the porch railing, they were startled to see a slight movement among the leaves. A hand lay limp against the trunk.
“Anchor Joe!” gasped Penny in horror. “He’s pinned beneath the tree!”