Janet Hardy in Hollywood Part 6

"Just how serious is this, Jim?" she asked.

"Pretty bad. We're three miles from the main road and there isn't a farm within two miles. Only thing we can do is to keep going ahead and try to shovel through."

"How about Little Deer valley?"

"That's what we're worrying about. The wind gets a clean sweep there and I'm afraid we may not get through."

"Can we turn back and stay at Youde's?"

"Some of the road behind us would be as badly drifted as Little Deer valley," replied Jim. "I guess the only thing is to grind ahead and trust that the gas holds out."

For a time they made steady progress, the bus rumbling along smoothly and the heater throwing out a steady blast of warm, dank air. Then they rolled down a gentle slope and onto the flat of Little Deer valley, which was more than half a mile wide.

The driver stopped and went out to wade through the drifts. He came back to report that they might make it although in places the drifts were nearly up to the tops of the fence posts.

"It's going to mean plenty of shoveling," he warned them.

"We've got to go on," said Miss Bruder. "If we get stuck at least we're that much closer to the road. Perhaps we could walk to the main highway."

Janet saw Jim glance sharply at Miss Bruder. Perhaps she didn't realize the seriousness of their situation, or perhaps she was masking her thoughts with those words.

The gears ground again, the motor took up its burden, and they lurched ahead, churning through the deepening snow.

The air was colder now. There was no warmth from the heater. Something had gone wrong with the motor or a pipe had frozen. No matter then.

Getting through the drifts was uppermost in their minds.

Gradually the straining progress of the bus slowed, finally stopped, the gears clashed, and they lurched backward several hundred feet. Then they plunged ahead again, burrowing deeper into the snow.

"Everybody out to shovel," said the driver, snapping off the engine to save fuel.

The boys hurried out into the cold and the girls huddled closer to each other. Margie and Cora, thinly clad for such a night, beat their arms almost steadily and stamped their feet in rhythmic cadence.

Janet and Helen, heavily clothed, were still warm although the cold crept through their gloves to some extent.

"I wonder how cold it is?" asked Helen.

"I haven't any idea, but it feels like it was almost zero. Let's not think about it."

"Try not to think about it," retorted Helen, and Janet admitted that her companion was right. There was nothing to think about except the cold and the snow. Of course there was the cla.s.s play, but marooned in the middle of Little Deer valley with a howling blizzard raging was no time to think of cla.s.s plays.

The driver came back and stepped on the starter. The motor was slow in turning over. It must be bitterly cold, thought Janet. Finally the engine started and they plowed ahead a few feet, then finally churned to a stop.

Outside the shovels clanged against the steel sides of the bus as the boys dug into the snow again. It was chilling, numbing work out there and Jim Barron tumbled through the door to stand up in front and beat his arms steadily. When he went out, Ed Rickey came in and the boys alternated.

Margie whimpered in the cold and Janet felt sorry for her.

"My coat's large. I'll come up and sit with you and Cora can come back here with Helen," said Janet.

The other girls, thoroughly chilled, welcomed the change and Janet unb.u.t.toned the voluminous c.o.o.nskin and shared it with Margie, Helen doing likewise for Cora. Janet could feel Margie trembling as she pressed close to her.

After a time the driver returned and started the motor again. They moved forward slowly, creeping along the trail the boys had opened with the shovels. Finally they rocked to a stop and the driver turned toward Miss Bruder.

"It's no use. The drifts are three feet high and getting worse every minute."

_Chapter V_ THE WHITE MENACE

Miss Bruder looked at the girls, huddled together on the seats, desperately trying to keep warm. Outside the boys were bravely attempting to clear a path, but it was hopeless.

"Perhaps we'd better get out and try to reach the main road on foot," she said.

"I wouldn't advise that," replied the driver. "Some of the girls couldn't make it through the drifts. It must be well below zero now and the snow's still coming down bad."

Just then Jim and Ed led the boys back into the bus, closing the door carefully after them. They were covered with fine snow and frost from their own breath.

"I'm going to try and break through to the road," said Jim. "The rest of you stay here and try to keep warm. Whatever you do, don't leave the bus."

"If anyone is going to try to make it to the paved highway, I'm going,"

spoke up the driver. "I've been over this road a number of times. I'll follow the fence line and get to a farm somehow."

In spite of the protests of the boys, the driver remained firm, insisting that he, and he alone, could make the trip.

"Keep the door shut and don't run the motor. The heater's out of order now and if you run the motor, carbon monoxide fumes may creep in. They're deadly."

But that was an unnecessary warning for all of the boys knew the danger of the motor fumes in a closed compartment.

Bundling himself up well, the driver plunged into the storm and Miss Bruder and her honors English cla.s.s were left alone in the middle of Little Deer valley with the worst storm of the winter raging around their marooned bus.

Jim turned off the headlights, leaving only the red and green warning lights atop the bus on. He snapped the switches for the interior lights until only one was left aglow for there was no use to waste the precious supply of electricity in the storage battery.

If anything the whine of the wind was louder and it was exceedingly lonely out there despite the presence of the others. There was something about it that made Janet feel as though she were a hundred miles from civilization. She had not dreamed it would be possible to have such a sense of loneliness and yet be in a group of schoolmates.

Jim Barron and Ed Rickey kept on the move, talking with some of the boys or attempting to cheer up the girls.

"Better get up every few minutes and swing your arms and stamp your feet," advised Ed. "That'll keep the circulation going; otherwise you may suffer frostbite."

Helen squinted her eyes and looked at her watch in the dim light shed by the single bulb. It was just after midnight.

"Wonder if we'll be home by morning," she asked, turning back to Janet.

"Let's hope so, though I'm not in the least bit hungry after the big meal we had at Youde's."

"That seems ages away," replied Helen. "I'd almost forgotten the skating party."

Margie, who had taken shelter under Janet's coat, spoke up.