“You’re right enough, Sam,” he admitted. “But he can’t be took out—not in a blizzard like this, ’specially as we don’t know where to take him. And as for tryin’ to go for a doctor—wal, it’d be risky, mighty risky. I ain’t in shape, but I wouldn’t dare leave that wildcat with you boys, anyhow. And as for sendin’ any of you, that’d be a big risk, too. ’Tain’t ’sif we knew where we were, you know; and I’d hate to take chances o’ losin’ worth-while youngsters for the sake o’ that critter.”
“But can’t anything be done?”
“We can wait for the storm to blow itself out.”
“But how long will that be?”
“Dunno. The big blizzard of ’88 done business for three days.”
Sam rose. He tiptoed to the door, and peered through a yawning crack beside it. Then he came back to Lon.
“I can’t see much change, except that the clouds are not quite so low or so heavy. And it’s colder than ever.”
“Like enough! Nor’easter shiftin’ to nor’wester.”
Sam took thought, and while he deliberated, Step awoke, sat up, yawned loudly. Poke followed suit, and in a moment more Herman Boyd and the Trojan were rubbing their eyes. Then the Shark uncoiled himself. Last of all Orkney shook off his slumbers.
Sam turned again to Lon.