f aid he could bring to the picture actors in this
time of storm and stress he hardly knew. But he was not going to give up
without trying.

Ruth and Alice were trying to struggle back through the snow to their
sled, and not making very successful work of it, when they felt arms at
their sides helping them, and Russ and Paul came along.

"Fierce; isn't it!" cried Russ in Ruth's ear.

"Awful, and yet this sister of mine pretends that she likes it."

"I do!" declared Alice. "It's glorious. I can't really believe it's a
blizzard."

"It's the beginning of one, though," Paul assured her. "I hear the
drivers saying so. Their blizzards up here start in with a squall like
this, and soon develop into a bad storm. This isn't at its worst yet."

"Well, I hope I see the worst of it!" said Alice.

"Oh, how can you so tempt fate?" asked Ruth, seriously.

"I'm not tempting fate, but I mean I do like to see a great storm--that
is, if I'm protected, as I am now," and Alice laughed through the
whirling snow into Paul's face, for he had wrapped a fold of his big
ulster about her.

"Oh, dear!" sighed Ruth.

"What's the matter?" asked Russ, anxiously.

"I'm so worried."

"Don't be--yet," he said, reassuringly.

"But we may be snowed in here for a week!"

"Never mind--Mr. Switzer still has his pretzels, I believe."

She could not help laughing, in spite of their distress.

"Oh, poor daddy!" cried Alice, as she reached the sled, and Paul
prepared to help her in, "he is trying to protect his poor throat." Mr.
DeVere wore a heavy coat, the collar of which he had turned up, but even
this seemed little protection, and he was now tying a silk handkerchief
about his collar.

"I have the very thing for him!" cried Paul, taking off a muffler he
wore.

"Oh, but you'll need that!" protested Alice, quickly.

"Not a bit of it--I'm as warm as toast," he answered. "Here you are,
sir!" he called to Mr. DeVere, and when the latter, after a weak
resistance, had accepted it (for he was really suffering from the cold),
Alice thanked Paul with a look that more than repaid him for his
knightly self-sacrifice.

The players were by now in the sled, which, in its damaged condition,
had been let down as nearly level as possible. The blankets were pulled
up over the side, and Mr. Macksey was preparing to unhitch one of the
horses, and set off for help. Then one of the drivers gave a sudden cry,
and came running up to his employer.

"Look!"