“So do I,” said Lon. “As ’tis, I dunno--the pair of us went through enough to send some folks to hospital, what with that rassle and then the tramp through the drifts. And I did hammer him up--had to, or he’d ’a’ done for me. Clear case o’ survival of the fittest--feller that fit hardest, you know. And I ain’t in what you’d call the pink o’ condition myself. Sam, I’m as stiff as a bunch o’ ramrods, and I ain’t got a j’int that feels as if it had been greased in a coon’s age. That’s one trouble--I don’t dare take chances with him. If he got two jumps’ lead, I’d never catch him. And for all his takin’s on, and his wild yellin’, and them fever signs--wal, jest remember he’s as tough as an oak knot and as crafty as a fox. And he’s got the biggest kind o’ cause to bolt, if he can. Arson’s a state prison job, sonny.” “So I suppose. Only”--Sam hesitated--“only that wouldn’t be ground for failing to call a doctor or--or carrying him to one.” Lon listened for a moment to the shriek of the gale. “You’re right enough, Sam,” he admitted. “But he can’t be took out--not in a blizzard like this, ’specially as we don’t know where to take him. And as for tryin’ to go for a doctor--wal, it’d be risky, mighty risky. I ain’t in shape, but I wouldn’t dare leave that wildcat with you boys, anyhow. And as for sendin’ any of you, that’d be a big risk, too. ’Tain’t ’sif we knew where we were, you know; and I’d hate to take chances o’ losin’ worth-while youngsters for the sake o’ that critter.” “But can’t anything be done?” “We can wait for the storm to blow itself out.” “But how long will that be?” “Dunno. The big blizzard of ’88 done business for three days.” Sam rose. He tiptoed to the door, and peered through a yawning crack beside it. Then he came back to Lon. “I can’t see much change, except that the clouds are not quite so low or so heavy. And it’s colder than ever.” “Like enough! Nor’easter shiftin’ to nor’wester.” Sam took thought, and while he deliberated, Step awoke, sat up, yawned loudly. Poke followed suit, and in a moment more Herman Boyd and the Trojan were rubbing their eyes. Then the Shark uncoiled himself. Last of all Orkney shook off his slumbers. Sam turned again to Lon. “Look here!” he said in a low tone. “We can’t stay here three days.” “Probably we won’t have to.” “That’s too uncertain. We’ll have to do something. We haven’t a crumb of food, and we’re half starved.” Lon nodded sympathetically. “I know, I know! If I had a hedgehog here, right now, I’d eat him raw, quills and all.” Again Sam studied the flushed face of Peter Groche. “Lon, there _is_ something to do!” he said. “We’ve got to do it. We’ve got to send out an expedition for help.” “But, Sam, I tell you I ain’t fit, and----” “You’re to stay here, and watch Groche.” “But who’ll go?” “Two of the crowd.” “Countin’ yourself one of ’em?” “Certainly! And I’ll pick the other.” With an effort Lon got upon his feet. He limped across the room and back again.