The cold was penetrating—horribly so! Now and then a swirling, whirling eddy of wind and snow fell upon the sleigh, the horses, and all, and well nigh turned them around. The men were choked by the storm; the horses snorted and plunged, and were able to move on but slowly.
“Dickens of a mess we’ve got into, Kimball!” shouted Parker in the sheriff’s ear.
“I’m sorry I ever suggested taking these children with us. It’s awful, Parker,” said the worried sheriff.
At that instant there came a sudden lull in the storm. The wind fell, and the soft “sh-sh-sh” of the snow seemed rather soothing. But there was a sharper sound discernible, now that the tempest was lulled.
“Put! put! put-a-put!”
“What d’ye know about that?” cried the county clerk, seizing the sheriff’s arm. “It’s a motor—what?”
“It is. It’s that motor-iceboat. I heard it to-day when the Speedwells were trying it out.”
“Then it’s Dan and Billy,” declared Mr. Parker. “Well, now! what do you think of that? Out on the river in such a storm. Shall we shout to them?”
“My goodness, do!” cried Lettie, poking her head over the back of the seat. “If Billy Speedwell is out there, he’ll know the way home—sure. Let’s all shout, Pa!”