ng you like," said Mr. Martin, "as long as I get this off
his neck. It is a note!" he cried. "It's tied on with a piece of string.
It's a note--a letter!"

"Who in the world would send a note by Nicknack in that queer way, I
wonder," remarked Mrs. Martin.

"I've read of persons lost in the mountains sending a note for help tied
around the neck of a St. Bernard dog," said Uncle Frank. "Maybe somebody
used Nicknack as a dog."

Meanwhile Teddy and Jan had to run to the pantry to get Nicknack
something to eat. Trouble was now petting the goat and asking:

"Where you been, Nicknack? Where you been all dis while?"

"It is a note from some one in trouble!" cried Daddy Martin as he pulled
the bit of paper from Nicknack's neck.

"What does it say?" asked Uncle Frank.

"And who is it from?" Mrs. Martin inquired.

"It's signed 'The Lame Boy,'" answered her husband. "And he must be in
the snow bungalow the children built!"

"In the snow bungalow!" cried Aunt Jo in surprise.

"That's what it says. I'll read it to you," went on Mr. Martin. Then,
while Teddy and Janet fed cabbage leaves and pieces of cookie to their
goat, their father read aloud the short note.

"I am out in a little playhouse in your yard," the note read. "I
hurt my foot so I can't walk and I am snowed in. This goat came
in to see me and I tied this note on his neck. I thought maybe
he would take it to somebody who would help me. I have only a
little piece of bread left to eat. Please help me, whoever finds
this."

"Help him! Of course we will!" cried Uncle Frank. "Where's my shovel?
Come on, Dick! We've got to dig him out! Come on, everybody!"

"I want to help!" cried Teddy.

"So do I!" added Janet.

"Let me dig!" begged Aunt Jo. "I can handle a snow shovel as good as a
man, and you must be tired, Uncle Frank."

"No, we'll soon dig him out," said Daddy Martin. "The rest of you stay
here. Ruth," he went on to his wife, "get some hot water ready, and a
bed. If that poor boy has been snowed up in that bungalow for two or
three days he must be almost dead, and half starved, too."

"But how did he get there?" asked Mrs. Martin.

"And who is he?" asked Aunt Jo.

"All I know is what I read in the note," replied the father of the
Curlytops. "It may be the same lame boy who was in my store and ran away
before I had a chance to talk to him."

"And maybe he's the one who you thought might have taken the
pocketbook," added Uncle