HELD UP
Once more, as though unwilling to admit that it was conquered, the train
backed up and then made a forward dash. But the result was the same. The
snorting monster seemed to give up the struggle, and stood puffing and
wheezing, with the steam hissing and great volumes of smoke rising from
the stack.
"We're blocked," cried Bobby.
"It must be that we've got to the gulch," observed Fred.
"A pretty kettle of fish," grumbled Pee Wee.
"We're up against it for fair, I guess," admitted Mouser. "But let's get
out and see how bad the trouble is."
The boys joined the procession of passengers going down the aisle and
jumped off the steps of the car into a pile of snow beside the track
that came up to their knees. Pee Wee, who as usual was last, lost his
balance as he sprang, and went head over heels into a drift. His
laughing comrades helped him to his feet.
"Wallowing like a porpoise," grinned Fred.
"You went into that snow as if you liked it," chuckled Bobby.
"Lots of sympathy from you boobs," grumbled Pee Wee, as he brushed the
snow from his face and hair.
"Lots of that in the dictionary," sang out Mouser. "But come ahead,
fellows, and see what's doing."
The others waded after Mouser until they stood abreast of the
locomotive.
It was a scene of wintry desolation that lay stretched before their
eyes. As far as they could see, they could make out little but the white
blanket of snow, above which the trees tossed their black and leafless
branches. Paths and fences were blotted out, and except for the thin
column of smoke that rose from a farmhouse half a mile away, they might
have been in an uninhabited world of white.
"Looks like Snowtop, sure enough," muttered Mouser, as he looked around.
The conductor and the engineer, together with the trainmen, had gathered
in a little group near the engine, and the boys edged closer in order to
hear what they were saying.
"It's no use," the grizzled old engineer was remarking. "The jig's up as
far as Seventy-three is concerned. I tried to get the old girl to buck
the drifts, but she couldn't do it."
The boys thought it was no wonder that Seventy-three had gone on strike,
as they noted that her cowcatcher was buried while the drift rose higher
than her stack.
"It's too bad," rejoined the conductor, shaking his head in a perplexed
fashion. "I've been worrying about the gulch ever since it came on to
snow so hard. It wouldn't have mattered so much if it hadn't been for
the wind. That's slacked up some now, but the damage is done already."
"What are you going to do, boss?" asked one of the trainmen.
"You'll have to go back to the last station and wire up to the Junction
for them to send the snow-plough down and clear the track," responded
the conductor. "Get a hustle on now and ask them to send it along in a
hurry."
The trainman started back at as fast a pace as the snow permitted, and
the engineer climbed back into his cab to get out of the wind while
waiting for help. The conductor started back for the smoking car, and as
he went past, Bobby ventured to speak to him.
"How long do you think we'll have to wait here?" he inquired.
"No telling, sonny," the conductor answered. "Perhaps a couple of hours,
maybe longer. It all depends on how soon they can get that snow-plough
down to us."
He passed on and Mouser gave a low whistle.
"Scubbity-_yow_!" cried Fred, giving vent to his favorite exclamation.
"Two long hours in this neck of the woods!"
"And nothing to eat in sight," groaned Pee Wee.
"I wish I'd let Meena put up that lunch for us this morning," said Bobby
regretfully. "My mother wanted me to bring one along, but I was in a
hurry and counted on getting something to eat at the railroad lunch
station."
"What are we going to do?" moaned Pee Wee.
"Fill up on snowballs," suggested Mouser heartlessly.
Pee Wee glared at him.
"I'm almost as bad as Pee Wee," said Fred. "I feel as empty as though I
hadn't had anything to eat for a week. I could eat the bark off a tree."
"I tell you what, fellows," suggested Bobby, who was usually the leader
when it came to action; "what do you say to going over to that farmhouse
and trying to buy something to eat? I don't think they'd let us go away
hungry."
They followed the direction of his pointing finger, and new hope sprang
up in them.
"But it's an awful long way off," objected Pee Wee, whose fear of
exertion was only second to his love of eating.
"Have you got another stone bruise on your foot?" asked Mouser
sarcastically.
This was a standing joke among the boys. Whenever Pee Wee hung back from
a walk or a run, he usually put forth the excuse of a stone bruise that
made him lame for the time.
"No, I haven't any stone bruise," Pee Wee rapped back at him, "but how
do you know I didn't bark my shins when I had that tumble a few minutes
ago?"
He put on a pained look which might have deceived those who did not know
him so well. But the steady stare of his comrades was too much for him
to stand without wilting, and he had to join rather sheepishly in the
laugh that followed.
"You stay here then, Pee Wee, while we go over and get something to
eat," suggested Fred. "We'll ask the farmer to bring you over something
on a gold tray. He'll be glad to do it."
"Oh, cut it out," grinned Pee Wee. "Go ahead and I'll follow."
"Foxy boy, isn't he?" chuckled Fred. "He wants us to break out the path
so that it will be easier for him."
"I'd rather have Pee Wee go ahead," remarked Mouser. "He'd be better
than any snow plough."
With chaff and laughter they started out, Bobby leading the way and the
rest following in single file. They had pulled their caps down over
their ears and buttoned their coats tightly about their necks. Luckily
for them the wind had moderated, although the snow still kept falling,
but more lightly than before.
They did not do much talking, for they needed all their breath to make
their way through the drifts. As they had no path to guide them, they
made straight across the fields, bumping every now and then into a fence
that they had to climb. They were pretty well winded and panting hard
when at last they reached the fence that bounded the spacious dooryard
in front of the farmhouse.
A big black dog came bounding down to the gate barking ferociously. The
boys took comfort from the fact that the fence was high and that the dog
was too big and heavy to leap over it.
"He's glad to see us--I don't think," said Fred.
"Seems to have a sweet disposition," muttered Pee Wee.
"Let Mouser get to talking to him," suggested Bobby. "He'll tame him
down in no time."
Mouser, somewhat flattered, stepped forward. He had gained his nickname
because he had a number of mice which he had taught to do all sorts of
clever tricks. His fondness extended to all animals, and he had the
remarkable power over them with which some people are gifted. No matter
how savage or frightened they might be, they seemed to yield to his
charm.
It did not fail him now. He muttered some words soothingly to the dog,
whose barking grew feebler. Soon it stopped altogether, and in another
minute or two the brute was wagging his tail and poking his muzzle
through the rails of the fence for Mouser to pat him.
It was almost uncanny, and the boys held their breath as they watched
the transformation.
"It's all right now," said Mouser, lifting the latch of the gate. "Come
along, fellows."
"Gee whiz!" exclaimed Bobby. "How do you do it?"
"You ought to be with a circus," said Fred in undisguised admiration.
"You'd make a dandy lion tamer."
Mouser was elated at the tribute, but accepted it modestly enough, and
led the way up to the house, the dog prancing along with them in the
most friendly manner.
As they reached the door and were about to knock, it was opened, and a
motherly looking woman appeared on the threshold. There was an
expression of anxiety on her face.
"Down, Tiger, down," she cried. Then as she saw the evident pleasure of
the brute in the boys' company, her worried expression changed to one of
surprise.
"Mercy on us!" she exclaimed. "I was afraid the dog would eat you up.
He's awfully savage, but we keep him on account of there being so many
tramps around. I was upstairs when I heard him barking, and I hurried
down as fast as I could, for I was sure he'd bite you if you came inside
the gate."
"Oh, Tiger's a good friend of mine, aren't you, Tiger?" laughed Mouser,
as he stooped to caress the dog.
Tiger licked his hand.
"Well, I never saw anything like it," said their hostess. "I just can't
understand it. But here I am keeping you standing outside when you must
be half perished with the cold," she went on with quick sympathy. "Come
right inside and get warm before you say another word."
She led the way into a bright, cheerful sitting room, where there was a
big wood fire blazing on the hearth. She bustled around and saw that
they were comfortably seated before the fire. Then Bobby explained their
errand.
"I suppose we're sort of tramps ourselves," he said with the winning
smile that always gained for him instant liking. "But we were on the
train and it got stalled over there in the gulch on account of the snow.
We hadn't brought any lunch with us and we thought we'd come over here
and see if we could buy something to eat."
"You poor starved boys!" she exclaimed with as ready a sympathy as
though she had been the mother of them all. "Of course you can have all
you want to eat. It's too early for dinner yet, as Mr. Wilson--that's my
husband--went to town this morning and will be a little late in getting
back. But I'll get up something for you right away. You just sit here
and get warmed through and I'll have it on the table in a jiffy."
"Don't go to too much trouble," put in Bobby. "Anything will do."
She was off at once, and they heard the cheerful clatter of pans and
dishes in the adjoining kitchen.
The boys stretched out luxuriously before the fire and looked at each
other in silent ecstasy.
"Talk about luck," murmured Mouser.
"All we want to eat," repeated Pee Wee.
"She didn't know you when she said that," chaffed Fred. "I don't believe
there's enough in the house to fill that contract."
"Pee Wee will have to go some to get ahead of me," chimed in Bobby.
A savory odor was soon wafted in from the kitchen. Pee Wee sat bolt
upright and sniffed.
"Say, fellows! do you smell that?" he asked. "If I'm dreaming, don't
wake me up."
"It's no dream," Mouser assured him. "It's something a good sight more
real than that."
Before long the door opened to reveal the smiling face of Mrs. Wilson.
"All ready, boys," she announced cheerily. "Come right along."