ly.

"Your Uncle Dick is fine, Betty," he observed. "Think of his getting on
the blind side of Major Pater so easy. But cracky! how that snow did
squash all over him," and he ended with a wicked giggle.

"One of your instructors, too!" exclaimed Louise. "For shame!"

"My!" chuckled Bobby, "what we'd like to do to Miss Prettyman at
Shadyside!"

"I am afraid Miss Prettyman is no more beloved than Major Pater is."

"Never mind, you girls!" interrupted Tommy, with renewed interest in the
storm and trying to peer through the window. "It's a regular blizzard.
When the porter opened the door of the vestibule for me to get that snow,
I thought he wouldn't get it shut again."

"Suppose we get stalled?" questioned Louise, inclined to be the most
thoughtful of the party.

"Well, suppose we do?" returned Bob. "I tell you we are all right for
food, for the dining car----"

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Tommy put in. "The porter let me into a
secret. The diner was dropped about thirty miles back. Broken flange of
one wheel and no time, of course, to put on a new wheel."

"Goodness!" exclaimed Betty. "I begin to feel hungry already."

"Of course, we'll pick up another diner?" asked Libbie, though rather
doubtfully.

"We'll hope so!" Bobby cried.

"If we get through to Tonawanda, yes," said Tommy Tucker. "That's what the
porter told me. But we don't get there, if we are on schedule, until eight
o'clock."

"There! I knew I was perishing of hunger," exclaimed Betty. "It's half
past four already," she added, looking at her wrist watch.

"Three and a half hours to dinner time?" wailed Bobby. "Oh!
That--is--tough!"

"That is, if we make the regular time," Bob said thoughtfully. "And right
now, let me tell you, this train is just about crawling, and that's all.
Humph! The soup sure will get cold in that dining car at Tonawanda, if it
waits there to be attached to our train."

"Oh! Oh!" cried Bobby. "Don't let's think of it. I had no idea that snow
could be so troublesome."

"Beautiful snow!" murmured Betty. "Say, Libbie. Recite that for us, will
you? You know: the poetry about 'Beautiful Snow.' You or Timothy should
remember it."

"Pah!" exclaimed Bobby, grumblingly. "I'll give you the proper version:

"Beautiful snow! If it chokes up this train,
It certainly will give me a pain!"

"Goodness me, Bobby!" retorted her cousin, Libbie, "your versifying
certainly gives me a pain."

CHAPTER XI

STALLED, A