yonder and beat you a path through the woods to
the main road. Nothing simpler. Your trunks will get to Cliffdale sometime
and you can carry your hand baggage."

"Not many trunks, thank goodness," replied Mr. Gordon. "What do you think,
Betty? Does it sound good?"

"Heavenly!" declared his niece.

Just then a brakeman came up through the tunnel to find out if the wolf
had eaten both the gentleman and his niece, and the telegraph operator
went down, feet first, to find the conductor and deliver his message.

"Then the idea of going on to Mountain Camp by sledge suits you, does it,
young lady?" asked Mr. Gordon of Betty.

"They will all be delighted. You know they will, Uncle. What sport!"

The suggestion of the telegraph operator did seem quite inspired. Mr.
Gordon and Betty reentered the train to impart the decision to the others,
and, as Betty had claimed, her young friends were both excited and
delighted by the prospect.

In half an hour the party was off, Betty and her friends bundled up and
carrying their bags while Mr. Gordon followed and Fred Jaroth led the way
on his snowshoes and carrying two suitcases. He said they helped balance
him and made the track through the snow firmer. As for Nero, he cavorted
like a wild dog, and that, Bobby said, proved he was a wolf!

Once at the top of the bank they found it rather easy following Jaroth
through the woods. And when they reached the road--or the place where the
highway would have been if the snow had not drifted over fences and
all--they met the party from the station bringing up food and other
comforts for the snowbound passengers. As the snow had really stopped
falling it was expected that the plow would be along sometime the next day
and then the train would be pulled back to the junction.

"But if this man has a roomy sled and good horses we shall not be cheated
out of our visit to Mountain Camp," Mr. Gordon said cheerfully.

The old farmhouse when they reached it certainly looked big enough to
accommodate them all. There was a wing thrown out on either side; but
those wings were for use only in the summer. There were beds enough and to
spare in the main part of the house.

When they sat down to Mrs. Jaroth's supper table Bob declared that quite
evidently famine had not reached this retired spot. The platters were
heaped with fried ham and fried eggs and sausages and other staple
articles. These and the hot biscuit disappeared like snow before a hot su