The Mysterious Code

to try to make some money. Poor
Reddy!”
    “It could have been
worse,” Brian said. “I know you don’t think so, boy,” he said as Reddy snuggled
his damp nose against Brian’s neck.
    “I’d say Reddy’s in
better shape than we are right now,” Jim said. “I haven’t the slightest idea
where we are. I just know there’s the granddaddy of a blizzard raging right
now, and we’re a long way from nowhere.”
    “I guess we should
have listened to Moms,” Brian said.
    “And left Reddy out
here to die?” Trixie asked scornfully.
    “Of course not,” Jim
said placatingly, “but we are in a bad spot. I don’t even know where the
main path is now, do you?”
    Trixie looked about
her and shook her head. “It’s getting darker and darker, too,” she said. “We’ll
try going in this direction,” Jim said and flashed his light. “Put your head
down, Trixie, and you won’t get the full force of the wind.”
    “Let’s stay close
together, all of us,” Brian said. “We can’t afford to get separated. Coming,
Trixie?” Reddy cried plaintively in Brian’s arms.
    “I’m coming, and we will find a way out!” Trixie answered, her voice vigorous and sure.
    “That’s the girl!”
Jim answered. Then he stumbled and fell in the snow.

A
Caller in the Tight • 10
     
    Jim’s hurt!” Trixie cried to
Brian. They had been walking along the path single file, with Trixie between
the two boys.
    “What happened?”
Brian asked as he pushed Trixie aside to bend over Jim.
    “He stumbled over
something and fell,” Trixie * said. “Watch out!”
    She was too late.
Brian went down headfirst over Jim’s body.
    “Brian!” Trixie
called frantically. “Jim!”
    On the ground they
were both making queer, choking noises. The swift, swirling snow obscured
everything around them, even the trees close by.
    Terror-stricken,
Trixie circled the fallen boys. “Jim!” she called. “Oh, he’s been killed!”
    “I’m not dead,” Jim
said, gurgling, “but if you can’t get this elephant to roll himself off me, I
may be.”
    “Then why are you
making such queer noises, as though you can’t get your breath? Brian, too,”
Trixie added, her voice tense with anxiety.
    “Can’t you tell
laughing when you hear it?” Brian asked, getting up and brushing the snow from
himself, only to have it replaced by more. “I like the way you called out to
Jim, Trixie. Fine sister you are. You weren’t concerned when I fell.”
    “I was, too,” Trixie
said, exasperated, “but you picked a queer time to be funny and play tricks.”
She was furious at both of them. “We may not even be alive an hour from now
unless we can get under cover someplace. Just think, it’s dark, and Moms must
be terribly worried because we aren’t home. I can’t stand much more of this
storm.”
    “You may be right
about its not being any time to play jokes,” Jim said, “but it isn’t any time
to cry, either. What do you suppose made us both stumble? I can’t see an inch
ahead of myself.” He picked up his flashlight where it had fallen.
    Reddy, who had
jumped from Brian’s arms when he stumbled, rubbed his wet body against Brian’s
legs, whimpered, and held up his sore paw.
    “I know it hurts,
fella,” Brian said. “I can’t do anything about it right now, though. Trixie,
we’re really up against it. There must be a shelter of some kind around
here.”
    “There is!” Jim
cried excitedly. He sent the beam of his flashlight hunting around on the
ground near him. “It was a log walk that I fell over. Unless I miss my guess,
it leads to some kind of refuge. That’s it; see? Right ahead!” The boys forced
the door of a log house that stood on the edge of a small clearing. The fury of
the storm drove girl, boys, and dog inside, then slammed the door with a mighty
force.
    “Just in time!”
Trixie panted, exhausted.
    The beam of Jim’s
flashlight danced around the room. There was no furniture... yes... along the
wall there were three old benches piled high with heavy feed sacks.
    “Mr. Maypenny must
use this for a place to store provisions for the animals and birds,” Jim said.
“Sure thing, it’s an old schoolhouse. Mr. Maypenny probably used to go to
school here himself. Jeepers, it’s cold!”
    Brian’s flashlight
had been seeking out comers, too. “There’s a stove!” he cried. “Looks like a
wood burner!”
    “No wood for it,
though,” Jim said. “None that I can see. Do you see any, Trixie?”
    “Not