"I couldn't sleep anyway," said Tom, "with Helen and Ruth out in the
cold. It's dreadful, Dad. I feel that we boys are partly to blame,
too."

"How's that?" his father asked him.

"Why, the girls were mad with us. I let Isadore go too far with his
joking," and he told Mr. Cameron about the spoiled taffy. "If we
hadn't done that to them of course they wouldn't have gone into the
woods without us--"

"But I am afraid you lads would have been no more cautious than the
girls," interposed Mr. Cameron. "This storm would have taken you by
surprise just the same."

"But we could have been with them and helped them."

"I have great faith in that little Fielding girl's good sense--and
Madge Steele is to be trusted," said his father. "Don't blame
yourself, boy. It was something entirely unforeseen."

Several times during the night Mr. Cameron tried to communicate with
the neighbors over the telephone; but some disaster had overtaken the
line and it probably could not be repaired until after the storm.

About five o'clock Long Jerry came into the room. He had been out
into the storm, for he was covered with snow.

"How does it look?" asked Mr. Cameron, earnestly.