“Oh, dear, me!  I hope so,” cried Belle Tingley.  “What will mother and father say if we’re not home by dark?”

“They’ll be pretty sure we wouldn’t travel far in this storm.  Preston and the other men will find us, anyway.”

“I expect that is so,” admitted Ruth, thoughtfully, “And they’ll find Jerry’s cave.  I hope he won’t be mad at me for taking you all there.”

However that might be, it seemed to the girl of the Red Mill, as well as to Tom Cameron, that it was wisdom to seek the nearest shelter.  The ravine was steep, but it was sheltered.  There were not many big drifts until they reached that great one at the head of it, into which Ruth had fallen when she slipped over the brink of the precipice.

Nevertheless, they were half an hour beating their way up the gully and out upon that ledge which led to the mouth of Jerry’s cave.  The boys found the laden sled a good deal of a load and the girls had all they could do to follow in the track the sled made.

“We never could have reached home safely through this storm,” declared Madge.  “How clever of you to remember the cave, Ruthie.”

“Ruth is always doing something clever,” said Helen, loyally.  “Why, she even falls over a cliff, so as to find a cave that, later, shelters us all from the inclement elements.”

“Wow, wow, wow!” jeered Isadore.  “You girls think a lot of each other; don’t you?  Better thank that Jerry boy for finding the cave in the first place.”

They were all crowding into the place by this time.  It was not very light in the cave, for the snow had already veiled the entrance.  But there was a great store of wood piled up along one side, and the boys soon had a fresh fire built.

The girls and boys stamped off the clinging snow and began to feel more comfortable.  The flames danced among the sticks, and soon an appreciable sense of warmth stole through the cave.  The crowd began to laugh and chatter.  The girls brushed out the cave and the boys rolled forward loose stones for seats.

Isadore found Jerry’s shotgun, ammunition, bow and arrow, and other possessions.

“He must have taken the rifle with him when he went to the other end of the tunnel,” Ruth said.

“Say!” exclaimed Ralph Tingley.  “You could find the way through the hill to where you came out of the cave with Jerry; couldn’t you, Ruth?”

“Oh!  I believe so,” cried Ruth.

“Then we needn’t worry,” said the boy.  “We can go home that way.  Even if the storm doesn’t stop to-night, we ought to be able to find the lodge from that end of the cave.”

“We’ve nothing to worry about, then,” said Madge, cheerfully.  “We’re supplied with all the comforts of home——­”

“And plenty to eat,” sighed Heavy, with satisfaction.

CHAPTER XXII

SNOWED IN

Naturally, thirteen young folk in a cave could not be content to sit before the fire inactive.  They played games, they sang songs, they made up verses, and finally Madge produced a pencil and a notebook and they wrote a burlesque history of “George Washington and the Cherry Tree.”