“We’re gaining, all right,” he was pretty sure to tell Jerry, though declining to commit himself to any particular figures.
Both were by now beginning to feel the effect of the tramp. While the snow was hardly deep enough to interfere to any marked degree with their progress, in the long run it added to the labor of lifting their feet countless times. Its weight, whenever it clung to their heavy shoes, made an additional burden to be reckoned with.
“Bluff, it’s beginning!” whispered Jerry, after another spell of silence had reigned between them and they had covered still more ground.
“What is?” demanded Bluff, turning around to look at his chum uneasily, for he had detected a ring of uncertainty in Jerry’s utterance.
“I saw a snowflake drifting down just then; and—yes, there’s another; you can tell for yourself, Bluff!”
“Huh! Hang the luck, if it begins to come down on us now and blots out our trail, we’ll be in the soup!”
The flakes came down pretty heavily for a few minutes, while the boys continued to press on with mingled emotions.
It proved to be a false alarm, however. In five minutes Jerry remarked, again in an excited whisper:
“She’s letting up, Bluff; sure she is! I don’t believe we’re due for any big storm yet. The sky’s brightening a lot.”
Bluff saw that things were commencing to look better; but he fancied this was only a temporary relief. It might hold back for an hour, and even be delayed longer; but Bluff was almost as certain as Frank had been that a storm was impending.