“Yes, we are in for a furious storm. Now remember, answer all my signals, and—if you should not hear from me for a time, keep firing every few moments anyway.�
“Yes, Don. Heaven help you to find Tibby and bring her home safely to us!�
A moment later Donald was lost to view in the whirling, swirling masses of snow that filled the air, and Alice, taking down the heaviest gun from the wall, examined it carefully, and loaded it with a charge of powder.
“What are you doing with that gun, Alice?� asked Mrs. Wylie, who, hearing the sound of voices, had risen from her couch and now came into the room.
“I am going to answer Donald’s signals to guide him through the storm.�
Mrs. Wylie’s eyes opened wide with alarm.
“But why has Donald gone out in it?� she questioned, looking from the window into the impenetrable, snow-filled air.
“To find Tibby, Elinor.�
Mrs. Wylie sank down in a chair and pressed her hands to her side, while her lips grew white.
“Why—Alice, do you suppose Tibby can be out in this terrible storm? I have been sleeping and did not realize it was upon us until the gusts struck the house and I heard you talking with some one—Donald, was it?�