"No time t' lose," Jonathan agreed.
"Speed then!" Billy exclaimed. "He'll freeze fast afore you find one."
"Guard the lad," said Jonathan. "I'll not be long. Try his temper. He'll fight if you tease un."
With that, then, old Jonathan Farr ran off to dig a dead man from the drifts. The boys could not see him in the snow. All this while the wind was biting and pushing and choking them still—the snow was mixed with the first dusk. Toby was shivering then—cowering from the wind, head down. And he was dull. His head nodded. He swayed in the wind—caught his feet; and he jerked himself awake—and nodded and swayed again. Billy Topsail thought it a pity and a wrong to rouse him. Yet both boys turned to keep him warm.
Toby must have the life kept in him, they thought, until his grandfather got back. And they cuffed him and teased him until his temper was hot, poor lad, and he fought them in a passion—stumbling at them, hampered by his frozen clothes, and striking at them with his stiff arms and icy fists.
Jonathan came then.
"I can't find no dead men," he panted. It was hard for him to breast the wind. He was gasping with haste and fear. "I've hunted," said he, "an' I can't find no dead men."
"They're lyin' thick hereabouts," said Billy.
"They're all covered up. I can't find un."
"Did you kick the drifts?" Archie asked. "We've strayed wide," said Jonathan. "I can't find no dead men. An' I can't walk well no more."