"
"If he was a son of mine he'd get a good warmin'," said Mrs. Crowley, as
she went down cellar to get the cider.
Mandy still strained her eyes at the window. The dark form was still
visible, moving slowly through the snow. At that moment a terrific storm
of wind struck the house; it made every window and timber rattle; great
clouds of snow were swept up from the ground to mingle with those coming
from above, and the two were thrown into a whirling eddy that struck the
poor traveller and took him from his feet, covering him from sight.
Mandy rushed to the door and opened it. This time she did not scream
"Hello." The word this time was "Hiram! He is lost! He is lost!" she
cried. "His strength has given out; but what shall I do? I could not
reach him if I tried. Oh, Hiram! Hiram!" and the poor girl burst into
tears. She would call Mr. Pettengill; she would call Cobb's twins; she
would call Mr. Sawyer; one of them would surely go to his assistance.
She turned, and to her surprise found Swiss by her side, looking up at
her with his large, intelligent eyes. Quick as lightning, Uncle Ike's
story came back to her mind.
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