However, the train boy was paid, some other toys were bought, and then,
as Grandpa Ford, some time later, looked from the train window, he
exclaimed:

"Ha! Here comes the snow! I think we are in for a big storm!"

And with great suddenness the train was, almost at once, shut in by a
cloud of white snowflakes, like a fog. The swirling white crystals were
blown all about, and tapped against the glass of the windows, as if they
wanted to come in where the six little Bunkers were. But the glass kept
them out.

"How is it out--cold?" asked Grandpa Ford of a brakeman who came in an
hour or so later, covered with white flakes.

"Very cold, sir, and growing more so. I'm afraid we'll run into a bad
storm before we reach Tarrington. It's snowing worse all the while."

And so it was.

"Is this the blizzard?" asked Violet.

"Pretty close to it," answered Grandpa Ford.

Just then the train gave a sudden jerk, rattling every one in his seat,
and came to a stop.