the chill creep through her bones. She stopped skating and edged over close to the fireplace just as the bus driver came in and spoke to Eli Youde. The innkeeper departed at once with the driver and Janet heard the bang of an outer door as though it had been caught by the wind and closed violently. But there had been no wind when they came down into the valley to the inn.
If the wind had come up, the snow might drift badly. She put that thought out of her mind, and rejoined the skaters.
It was less than five minutes later when the innkeeper and the bus driver returned, striding down the center of the rink. Mr. Youde held up one hand and the skaters gathered around him.
“Wind’s coming up and the snow’s starting to drift. May be bad in another hour or two. If you want to get home before midnight you’d better start now for it will be slow going up in the hills.”
“We’ll start at once,” decided Miss Bruder. “Get your wraps, everybody.”
Janet, some unknown fear tugging at her heart, hung back and spoke to Mr. Youde.
“Is it perfectly safe to start the trip back?” she asked.
“I guess so. That’s a powerful bus. But you’d better start now before the wind gets bad. This snow is going to drift like fury before morning. I expect we’ll be blockaded for a couple of days.”
Janet rejoined the girls in the room where they had left their coats. A horn sounded outside and they hastened to don their wraps. The floodlights in the yard flashed on and the group, bidding the Youdes cheery goodnights, hastened out to the bus.
Chapter IV
LITTLE DEER VALLEY
In spite of her warm clothing, Janet could feel the sting of the night air. It was much colder than when they had arrived. The snow seemed to be less, but the wind was shipping it in little eddies across the yard.
With the heater running full blast, the bus was comfortable and they found seats well up toward the front. Miss Bruder counted them to make sure that everyone was on hand. Reassured, she told the driver to start the return trip.
The windows were heavily frosted and it was like being in a sealed room, the only peephole being the small frame of glass which the windshield wiper kept clear.
“What time is it?” Janet asked Helen, who had a wrist watch.
“Nine forty-five. We’re starting home early.”
Janet nodded, but she was glad they had made the start. It wouldn’t have been pleasant staying at Youde’s if they had been snowed in for the lonely inn had few comforts.
The powerful engine of the bus labored as the big machine topped a grade out of the valley and they swung down into another. For five or six miles it would be one hill after another and Janet wondered if the snow was drifting down in the valleys.
The road was little used and if the wind increased, it might make travel exceedingly difficult. But she dismissed that thought from her mind for the bus had heavy chains on the double wheels at the rear.
The spontaneity which had marked their trip out was missing and conversation soon died away. Everyone was tired and willing to snuggle down into their coats.
Janet must have been dozing for the heavy roar of the bus motor awoke her with a start.
They were backing up. Then they stopped and the driver shifted gears. The bus leaped ahead, the throttle on full and the exhaust barking in the crisp air. Gradually their forward motion ceased and the wheels ground into the snow.
Without a word the bus driver shifted instantly into reverse and they lurched backward. The driver stopped the bus, set the emergency brake, and dodged out into the night.
“What’s the matter?” asked Helen, who was almost hidden in her fur coat and deliciously sleepy.
“I think we’ve hit a drift,” replied Janet.
“We ought to be almost home, though. It seems like we’ve been traveling for ages.”
“I expect we are,” but Janet didn’t feel the optimism that she meant her words to convey.
If the wind had increased they might find themselves in a serious situation.
The bus driver opened the door and stuck his head in.
“One of you fellows come out and give me a hand with the shovels.”
Jim Barron, nearest the door, responded with Ed Rickey at his heels.
After several minutes the bus driver came back inside and slowed the motor down to idling speed and the wave of heat from the heater diminished noticeably.
With the motor barely turning over, outside noises were audible and Janet could hear the rush of the wind. Particles of the fine, dry snow were being driven against the window beside her.
It was at least fifteen minutes later when Jim, Ed and the driver returned, red-faced and breathless from their exertions. The boys dropped into the front seats while the driver opened the throttle and sent the big machine lumbering ahead.
The bus plunged into the drift, the chains on the rear wheels biting deep into the snow. Once they swung sharply and Janet gasped, but they swung back and with the engine taxed to the limit finally pulled through the drift.
Janet saw Jim look around and she thought she detected grave concern in his eyes. Then he turned away and she was too far away to speak to him without alarming the others.
The bus labored up a long grade, breasted the top of the hill, and then started down. It would be in the valley that trouble would come, for the snow would be heavily drifted.
The big machine rocked down the slope, jolting its occupants around and bruising one or two of them. Janet heard Miss Bruder cry out sharply and turned around, but the teacher motioned that she was all right.
Then the speed of the bus slackened, the wheels spun futilely, and their forward motion ceased. Almost instantly they were in reverse, but the bus slipped to one side and in spite of the full power of the motor, the wheels churned through the dry snow.
The driver eased up on the throttle, looked significantly at Jim and Ed, and with them at his heels plunged into the storm again. Fortunately, he had tied several shovels to the bus before leaving Youde’s and they were not without implements to dig themselves out.
Janet could hear them working, first at the front and then at the rear and Helen, now thoroughly wide awake, looked at her in alarm.
“It’s getting colder in here,” she said.
“The engine’s barely turning over; there isn’t much heat coming out.”
“I know, but I mean the temperature outside must be dropping rapidly, and listen to the wind.”
But Janet preferred not to listen to the wind; it was too mournful, too nerve-wracking. What it whispered alarmed her for they were still some miles from the main road and there were few if any farms near.
The bus driver returned and motioned to the other boys.
“Give us a hand. We don’t want to stay here a minute longer than necessary.”
