his way back!”
Frantically they both shouted with all their strength, “Jim! Jim! Jim … Jim!”
The angry wind, triumphant, threw their voices back to them in a ghoulish echo.
“I’ll go after him,” Brian said, throwing the rope from him.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort!” Trixie said. “You’d just get lost, too. There
must
be some way, Brian …
some way!
Couldn’t we make a loud noise? A horn, maybe … that’s silly, there isn’t any.… One of those old pans Mr. Maypenny left here for feeding.… I could beat on that.… No, I know what I’ll do!”
Trixie was across the room in a flash and up the narrow ladder in the closet that led to the bell.
Once at the top, she swung the bell in its cradle. Back and forth, back and forth.
“Clang! Cling-clang! Clang! Clang! Jim! Jim!—Jim!—Jim!—Jim!—JIM!”
“Hallooooo!”
Was it the wail of the wind?
“Halloooo!”
No. It was Jim!
Covered with snow even to his eyelids, Jim stumbled through the door and dropped an armload of wood on the floor.
“It’s—not—very—far,” he said, panting. “A big—pile of it—but the rope broke. How did you happen to think about ringing the bell?” he asked, a smile breaking over his frosted, reddened face.
“We didn’t, at first,” Trixie confessed. “I don’t know why we didn’t. We thought of beating pans and things, then suddenly we remembered the bell.”
Jim had recovered his breath. “Start a fire going with this wood I’ve brought, Brian,” he said. “In a few minutes I’ll go out after some more.”
“No, you start the fire. I’ll go out this time,” Brian said.
Jim shook his head. “I know where the woodpile is, Brian. You don’t. At least I know the direction to start. It’s pretty close to the schoolhouse. If the noise of the storm hadn’t been so loud—keep ringing the bell if I don’t come back soon.”
In spite of Brian’s protest Jim tied the rope around his waist and started back. Trixie had doubled the rope so that if one strand broke the other might hold. This time, too, it was she who took up the post outside the door. Brian built the fire.
Back and forth Jim went successfully until a heap of wood stood inside the door. When the small wood stove burned bright and the red isinglass in the window on its door sent a rosy light into the darkened corners, the small schoolhouse seemed cozy and warm.
“Nine o’clock,” Trixie said and loosened Jim’s wrist watch to give it back to him. “Brian, I
wish
we had some way to let Moms know we are safe. She’s alone at the house with Bobby and Mart. I hope Mart doesn’t get the idea of starting out to look for us. Moms wouldn’t let him, though. I
wish
Daddy were home.”
“That’s what bothers me most of all,” Brian said. “The wind seems to have slackened. Don’t you think I’d better make a run for it?”
“No!” Jim’s voice was stern, decisive. “No one in this place is going to leave tonight.”
“You don’t need to be so commanding,” Brian said. “You know how Moms will worry.”
“Of course I do,” Jim said, “and I know that my mother is worrying, too, and Honey, but there isn’t a thing they can do or we can do until daylight. My dad’s in the city, too. I know this, though, and you should know it, too. Your mother and my mother have confidence in us and will be pretty sure we can take care of ourselves and Trixie.”
“She won’t
know
it, though,” Trixie said, tears coming unbidden to her eyes, “and Moms is
so
good to us. She’ll be afraid we don’t have anything to eat.”
“We don’t,” Brian said, glad to change the subject before Trixie broke down. “Let’s look into the bird seed situation. If it’s for the birds, it could be for us, too.”
“Sure,” Jim said. “I’ll go get some snow to melt on top of the stove, and Trixie, you stir up a delicious porridge with some of the latest thing in cereal—bird seed.”
“We’ll pretend it’s
Frantically they both shouted with all their strength, “Jim! Jim! Jim … Jim!”
The angry wind, triumphant, threw their voices back to them in a ghoulish echo.
“I’ll go after him,” Brian said, throwing the rope from him.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort!” Trixie said. “You’d just get lost, too. There
must
be some way, Brian …
some way!
Couldn’t we make a loud noise? A horn, maybe … that’s silly, there isn’t any.… One of those old pans Mr. Maypenny left here for feeding.… I could beat on that.… No, I know what I’ll do!”
Trixie was across the room in a flash and up the narrow ladder in the closet that led to the bell.
Once at the top, she swung the bell in its cradle. Back and forth, back and forth.
“Clang! Cling-clang! Clang! Clang! Jim! Jim!—Jim!—Jim!—Jim!—JIM!”
“Hallooooo!”
Was it the wail of the wind?
“Halloooo!”
No. It was Jim!
Covered with snow even to his eyelids, Jim stumbled through the door and dropped an armload of wood on the floor.
“It’s—not—very—far,” he said, panting. “A big—pile of it—but the rope broke. How did you happen to think about ringing the bell?” he asked, a smile breaking over his frosted, reddened face.
“We didn’t, at first,” Trixie confessed. “I don’t know why we didn’t. We thought of beating pans and things, then suddenly we remembered the bell.”
Jim had recovered his breath. “Start a fire going with this wood I’ve brought, Brian,” he said. “In a few minutes I’ll go out after some more.”
“No, you start the fire. I’ll go out this time,” Brian said.
Jim shook his head. “I know where the woodpile is, Brian. You don’t. At least I know the direction to start. It’s pretty close to the schoolhouse. If the noise of the storm hadn’t been so loud—keep ringing the bell if I don’t come back soon.”
In spite of Brian’s protest Jim tied the rope around his waist and started back. Trixie had doubled the rope so that if one strand broke the other might hold. This time, too, it was she who took up the post outside the door. Brian built the fire.
Back and forth Jim went successfully until a heap of wood stood inside the door. When the small wood stove burned bright and the red isinglass in the window on its door sent a rosy light into the darkened corners, the small schoolhouse seemed cozy and warm.
“Nine o’clock,” Trixie said and loosened Jim’s wrist watch to give it back to him. “Brian, I
wish
we had some way to let Moms know we are safe. She’s alone at the house with Bobby and Mart. I hope Mart doesn’t get the idea of starting out to look for us. Moms wouldn’t let him, though. I
wish
Daddy were home.”
“That’s what bothers me most of all,” Brian said. “The wind seems to have slackened. Don’t you think I’d better make a run for it?”
“No!” Jim’s voice was stern, decisive. “No one in this place is going to leave tonight.”
“You don’t need to be so commanding,” Brian said. “You know how Moms will worry.”
“Of course I do,” Jim said, “and I know that my mother is worrying, too, and Honey, but there isn’t a thing they can do or we can do until daylight. My dad’s in the city, too. I know this, though, and you should know it, too. Your mother and my mother have confidence in us and will be pretty sure we can take care of ourselves and Trixie.”
“She won’t
know
it, though,” Trixie said, tears coming unbidden to her eyes, “and Moms is
so
good to us. She’ll be afraid we don’t have anything to eat.”
“We don’t,” Brian said, glad to change the subject before Trixie broke down. “Let’s look into the bird seed situation. If it’s for the birds, it could be for us, too.”
“Sure,” Jim said. “I’ll go get some snow to melt on top of the stove, and Trixie, you stir up a delicious porridge with some of the latest thing in cereal—bird seed.”
“We’ll pretend it’s
Similar Books
