“We’ll make Fort Dunwoody yet,” Dick shivered, almost gladly.
Then they fell silent as they took Toma’s tireless, jogging pace, beneath a cloudy sky. Again the Indian’s trail wisdom came in like a God-send. Dick and Sandy did not know where they were going, but they had a feeling that Toma certainly did.
How long they ran they did not know when they began to feel damp spots on their cheeks and hands.
“It’s snowing,” Dick panted over his shoulder.
“Ought to cover our trail,” Dick came back.
“I guess so, but I can’t talk. I’ve got to save my wind. You must be made of iron.”
Dick said no more, and presently Toma slowed down. It was snowing heavily now, and with the going getting harder underfoot, Dick and Sandy were grateful for the slackening of the pace. Yet they sensed something unusual ahead had been the cause of it, and were not perfectly at ease by any means.
Finally Toma came to a dead stop at the edge of a clearing. Peering ahead through the gloom and the falling snow, they could see the lights of a cabin twinkling.
“You stay here; I go on,” Toma instructed in a low voice. “My brother live here. Him give us warm clothes. I see if all right first. Wait for me.”
Dick and Sandy hovered in the undergrowth and watched Toma’s figure melt away into the gloom in the direction of the cabin.
“I hope he gets some clothes for us,” Sandy chattered.
“And I’m glad Govereau didn’t take my wallet,” said Dick. “We can pay for what we get now.”
“The Frenchman didn’t think we had any money, I suppose,” Sandy opined.
They fell silent then, for against the lighted window they could see a head silhouetted through the falling snow. Toma was peering in at the window. For an instant the guide’s head was outlined there, then it disappeared. Presently a shaft of light shot out over the snow as the door opened and closed. A moment later the door opened again, though the boys could not see who entered.
Dick and Sandy expected Toma to come back for them almost immediately, or at least signal that all was right. But the minutes passed and the guide did not return nor make a sign. The boys began to worry.
“What do you suppose is keeping him?” Dick wondered.
“I don’t know,” Sandy replied, “but I do know I can’t stand still in this cold much longer.”