“You’re cold,” observed Mr. Stone, staring at the two girls. “Now tell me your names and where you live.”
Connie told him that she and Veve were staying at the Gordon farmhouse and had become separated from their friends after leaving the Stone cabin.
“Why, that’s my place!” exclaimed the trapper. “You’re not far from there now, or the main road. Just follow me.”
Connie and Veve no longer were worried because they were confident Mr. Stone would take care of them. Hustling them along at a brisk pace, he went ahead to break the wind and snow. Walking was hard work, but much easier than it had been before.
Connie asked the trapper what road they were on.
“Just a little side cut that runs up to Mr. Jeffert’s evergreen farm. The main road is across the field to the left. We’ll soon be there.”
Mr. Stone helped the girls over a fence, and aided them whenever they had to plunge through especially large drifts.
“This is a real blizzard--no mistake,” he said once. “If it keeps on until morning, all the roads will be closed.”
Soon Mr. Stone and the girls reached the main road.
“Thank you very much,” Connie told him gratefully. “We’ll be all right now.”
But Mr. Stone would not permit them to go on alone.
“Not in this storm,” he said. “I’ll see that you get safely to the Gordon farm.”
Mr. Stone walked a trifle too fast for the girls, who had to run a bit to keep up with him. However, they discovered that the brisk pace restored their circulation and made them feel much warmer.
Unexpectedly, the trapper halted to listen. He had heard an unusual sound.
The cry, “Yoo-ho-ho-yoo-ho!” resounded from far down the road. Connie knew instantly what it was.
“That’s our Brownie cry!” she shouted. “Miss Gordon must be looking for us.”
Connie gave an answering call. Then Mr. Stone and the two girls hastened on to meet the Brownie troop leader.
Soon they glimpsed her coming toward them through the slanting sheet of snow. Covered from hood to toe, she looked like a white ghost.
“Connie! Veve!” she exclaimed, giving them each a hug. “We’ve been so worried about you! I was afraid you were lost.”
“We were afraid we were too,” laughed Connie. “Mr. Stone found us.”
Miss Gordon thanked the man for guiding the girls to the road, and assured him she would now have no difficulty in escorting them on to the Gordon farm. The other Brownies, she explained, already were there, as a friendly neighbor had overtaken and picked them up in his sleigh.