We'll do the best we can. You take care o' ther
wimminfolks. So long, an' good luck."
Ted rode back to where Mrs. Graham was shivering in the closed wagon the
boys had provided for her, and Stella was sitting her pony by her side,
trying to encourage her.
Carl Schwartz was the jehu of the outfit, and sat on the driver's seat,
a fair imitation of a snow man.
"Carl, get a move on you. We're going to try to make the Long Tom ranch
house," said Ted. "I'll lead, and you follow. If you lose sight of me,
yell to me and I'll come back. I've got my pocket searchlight, and will
send you back a flash now and then."
Carl was half frozen and would have been pleased to get down and walk
the rest of the distance, but he knew the danger that surrounded them,
and simply yelled back "Yah!" and gathered up the reins for a start.
"Come on, Stella," said Ted. "We're going to try to make the ranch
house."
Without a word Stella followed him, and the little caravan struck into
the teeth of the snow-laden wind, which was now blowing half a gale.
The wagon moved slowly through the snow, which was getting deeper every
minute, and was like heavy sand.
Every few minutes Carl's voice could be heard, and Ted called back to
him.
Ted was traveling entirely by instinct, for it was so dark that he could
not see a foot in front of them.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25