car. It is warm there, and there is
something to eat."

"You needn't go," said the girl; "we are all dressed." She threw back
the covers and sprang out of bed. She was very pretty and about Henry's
own age, he discovered, although she was pale and haggard with cold and
hunger.

"Goody, goody!" exclaimed little Philip, as his feet landed on the
floor. "Maybe we'll have some Christmas, too."

"Maybe we will," said Henry, smiling at him. "At least we will have
something to eat."

"Well, let's start right away then," urged George.

This brought Henry face to face with a dilemma. "I have only one pair
of snow-shoes," he said at last, "and you probably don't know how to use
them anyway, and you can't walk on the snow."

"I have a sled," suggested George.

"That won't do," said Henry. "I've got to have something that won't sink
in the snow--that will lie flat, so I can draw you along."

"How about that table?" said the girl.

"Good suggestion," cried Henry.

It was nothing but a common kitchen table. He turned it upside down,
took his Scout axe from its sheath, knocked the legs off, fastened a
piece of clothesline to the butts of two of them.

"Now if I could have something to turn up along the front, so as not to
dig into the snow," he said, "it would be fine." He thought a moment.
"Where is that sled of yours, George?"

"Here," said George, dragging it forth. The runners curved upwards.
Henry cut them off, in spite of Philip's protests. He nailed these
runners to the front of the table and stretched rope tightly across them
so that he had four up-curves in front of the table.

"Now I want something to stretch on these things, so as to let the sled
ride over the snow, instead of digging into it," he said to the girl.

She brought him her father's old "slicker." Henry cut it into suitable
shape and nailed and lashed it securely to the runners and to the table
top. Now he had a flat-bottomed sled with a rising front to it that
would serve. He smiled as he looked at the queer contrivance and said
aloud: "I wish Mr. Lesher could see that!"

"Who is Mr. Lesher?" asked George.

"Oh, he's my Scoutmaster back in Ohio. Now come on!"

He opened the door, drew the sled outside, pushed it up on the snow and
stepped on it. It bore his weight perfectly.

"It's all right," he cried. "But it won't take all three of you at
once."

"I'll wait," said Mary, "you take the two boys."

"Very well," said Henry.

"You'll s