difference. I’ll go.”
“Nobody will go out in this storm,” Trixie said determinedly. “We’ll burn the benches.”
“Just three of them?” Jim asked. “How long would they last? And what would we use to chop them up? No, we’ll have to find the woodpile.”
Trixie pulled off her mittens, blew on her fingers to warm them, thinking all the while. Suddenly an idea came to her. “I heard old Brom telling Bobby a story the other day about a storm,” she said. “Let me think—what did he say they did? Oh, yes, he told about getting wood from outside. Let me see … one man would stand just outside the house, and the other man tied the end of a rope around his waist. If the first man got lost before he could find the wood, he would pull on the rope to let the other one know, and
he’d
pull him back to safety.”
“We can try it!” Jim exclaimed. “Only where will we find a rope?”
There was no sign of a rope around the old schoolroom. There was nothing but some twine used to tie the feed sacks.
“That idea is out,” Jim said. “Think of something else, Trixie. It’ll have to be quick, too, because it must be almost zero in this room right now.”
Jim blew his breath out. It came back to him in a cloud of steamy vapor.
“The school bell!” Trixie exclaimed. “It must have a rope! Right over there in the corner, Jim, back of you, in that little closet. Open the door!”
Jim opened the narrow door. There hung the frayed rope that was attached to the bell! Inside the small closet there was a narrow ladder. Jim climbed it, unfastened the rope, and dropped it to the floor.
“It’s almost worn through in several places,” Brian said, running it through his hands. “We’ll have to try it, though, Jim. Let’s go!”
Each boy wanted to be the one to go out into the storm. They could only decide by drawing lots, so Trixie held two pieces of straw. Jim drew the shorter one.
“I’ll fasten this end of the rope around my waist,” Brian said, “and stand right there outside the door.”
“I’ll put the other one around my waist,” Jim said.
Outside it were as though an angry giant had wrapped his great arms around the little schoolhouse trying to crush its sides and frosting its panes with his icy breath. Jim, caught up in the rush of wind, waved his arm gallantly and shouted, “Geronimo!” as he dashed into the storm.
While the talk had been going on, Reddy had rushed nervously back and forth across the room in front of the door. When Brian and Jim went out, he tried to dart ahead of them, but Trixie caught and held him. “You stay with me,” she commanded. “Down, Reddy!”
Before he left Jim had fastened his wrist watch around Trixie’s wrist. Seconds ticked away … minutes.… From time to time Trixie opened the door a crack to speak to Brian.
He and Jim had arranged a signal. If Jim found the woodpile he would jerk once on the rope. If he wanted to come back, he would jerk twice.
“Did you feel any motion on the rope yet?” Trixie asked Brian.
“Nothing,” he answered and huddled against the house. “Of course it slackens and tightens as he goes through the blizzard. It’s like the North Pole out here, Trixie. Go back indoors!”
Trixie turned.
“Wait!” Brian shouted. “There’s a jerk! Eureka, he’s found the wood! It won’t be long now till we have a fire. Go in and twist some of those empty paper bags that held bird seed, Trixie. Make a bed of them in the stove and we can kindle the wood chunks Jim will bring.”
Trixie hurried to do his bidding, then waited. Seconds ticked by … minutes … Jim did not come back.
“Where is he?” Trixie called through the door to Brian.
“I don’t know … the rope seems slack.… I just don’t know, Trixie,” Brian said and began slowly to pull the rope back. Soon he held up a dangling frayed end.
“It broke!” Brian said, despair choking his voice. “Jim’s out there someplace, and he can’t find
“Nobody will go out in this storm,” Trixie said determinedly. “We’ll burn the benches.”
“Just three of them?” Jim asked. “How long would they last? And what would we use to chop them up? No, we’ll have to find the woodpile.”
Trixie pulled off her mittens, blew on her fingers to warm them, thinking all the while. Suddenly an idea came to her. “I heard old Brom telling Bobby a story the other day about a storm,” she said. “Let me think—what did he say they did? Oh, yes, he told about getting wood from outside. Let me see … one man would stand just outside the house, and the other man tied the end of a rope around his waist. If the first man got lost before he could find the wood, he would pull on the rope to let the other one know, and
he’d
pull him back to safety.”
“We can try it!” Jim exclaimed. “Only where will we find a rope?”
There was no sign of a rope around the old schoolroom. There was nothing but some twine used to tie the feed sacks.
“That idea is out,” Jim said. “Think of something else, Trixie. It’ll have to be quick, too, because it must be almost zero in this room right now.”
Jim blew his breath out. It came back to him in a cloud of steamy vapor.
“The school bell!” Trixie exclaimed. “It must have a rope! Right over there in the corner, Jim, back of you, in that little closet. Open the door!”
Jim opened the narrow door. There hung the frayed rope that was attached to the bell! Inside the small closet there was a narrow ladder. Jim climbed it, unfastened the rope, and dropped it to the floor.
“It’s almost worn through in several places,” Brian said, running it through his hands. “We’ll have to try it, though, Jim. Let’s go!”
Each boy wanted to be the one to go out into the storm. They could only decide by drawing lots, so Trixie held two pieces of straw. Jim drew the shorter one.
“I’ll fasten this end of the rope around my waist,” Brian said, “and stand right there outside the door.”
“I’ll put the other one around my waist,” Jim said.
Outside it were as though an angry giant had wrapped his great arms around the little schoolhouse trying to crush its sides and frosting its panes with his icy breath. Jim, caught up in the rush of wind, waved his arm gallantly and shouted, “Geronimo!” as he dashed into the storm.
While the talk had been going on, Reddy had rushed nervously back and forth across the room in front of the door. When Brian and Jim went out, he tried to dart ahead of them, but Trixie caught and held him. “You stay with me,” she commanded. “Down, Reddy!”
Before he left Jim had fastened his wrist watch around Trixie’s wrist. Seconds ticked away … minutes.… From time to time Trixie opened the door a crack to speak to Brian.
He and Jim had arranged a signal. If Jim found the woodpile he would jerk once on the rope. If he wanted to come back, he would jerk twice.
“Did you feel any motion on the rope yet?” Trixie asked Brian.
“Nothing,” he answered and huddled against the house. “Of course it slackens and tightens as he goes through the blizzard. It’s like the North Pole out here, Trixie. Go back indoors!”
Trixie turned.
“Wait!” Brian shouted. “There’s a jerk! Eureka, he’s found the wood! It won’t be long now till we have a fire. Go in and twist some of those empty paper bags that held bird seed, Trixie. Make a bed of them in the stove and we can kindle the wood chunks Jim will bring.”
Trixie hurried to do his bidding, then waited. Seconds ticked by … minutes … Jim did not come back.
“Where is he?” Trixie called through the door to Brian.
“I don’t know … the rope seems slack.… I just don’t know, Trixie,” Brian said and began slowly to pull the rope back. Soon he held up a dangling frayed end.
“It broke!” Brian said, despair choking his voice. “Jim’s out there someplace, and he can’t find
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