pretty soon."

On through the drifts plunged the straining horses. It was all six of
them could do, pull as they might, to make their way. How cruelly the
wind cut, and how the snow flakes stung! Soft as they really were, the
wind gave them the feeling of pieces of sand and stone.

On through the storm went the delayed party. And then, when each one, in
spite of his or her fortitude, was almost giving up in despair at the
cold and the anxiety Mr. Macksey shouted out;

"Whoa! Here we are! All out for Elk Lodge!"

CHAPTER XI

THROUGH THE ICE

Warming, comforting beams of light shone from a large, low building set
back from the road in a little clearing of the woods. It was too dark to
see more than this--that the structure offered shelter, warmth and
light. Yes, and something else, for there was borne on the wings of the
wind the most delicious odor--the odor of supper.

"Pile out, folks! Pile out!" cried the genial old hunter. "Here we are!
At Elk Lodge! No more storm! No more cold! Get inside to the blaze. I
reckon mother's about given us up; but we're here, and we won't do a
thing to her cooking! Pile out!"

It was an invitation that needed no repetition. It was greeted with a
merry shout, even Mr. Sneed, the grouch, condescending to say:

"Ah, that sounds good!"

"Ha! Den if dere iss food to eat I dinks me dot I don't need to eat my
pretzels. I can safe dem for annoder time!" cried Mr. Switzer, as he
got out.

There was a laugh at this, and it was added to when Mr. Bunn called out
in his deepest tragic voice:

"Ha! Someone has my silk hat!"

For he had persisted in wearing that in the storm, though it was most
uncomfortable.

"It is gone!" he added. "Stolen, mayhap. Has anyone seen it?"

"Probably blew off," said Russ. "We'll find it--when the snow melts!"

Wellington Bunn groaned--again tragically.

"I'll get you another," offered Mr. Pertell, generously.

"Come on, folks! Pile out!" cried Mr. Macksey again.

"I'm so stiff I can hardly move!" declared Ruth.

"So am I," added Alice. "Oh, but it's good to be here!"

"I thought you liked the storm so," observed Ruth.

"I do, but I like supper too, and I think it must be ready."

Out of the sleds climbed the cold and cramped picture players, all
thought of the fierce storm now forgotten.

"Go right in," invited Mr. Macksey. "Supper's waiting!"

"Welcome to Elk Lodge!" called a motherly voice, and Mrs. Macksey
appeared in the open d