Frank.

"Well, we won't talk of that now," said Daddy Martin. "We'll get him dug
out of the snow first, and ask him questions later. Come on!"

"How do you suppose Nicknack got to the bungalow?" asked Teddy.

"Oh, I guess he just dug his way through the snow, making a tunnel for
himself from his barn," answered Mrs. Martin.

Whatever had happened to Nicknack he seemed glad now to be with his
Curlytop friends. He ate the pieces of cookie and the cabbage leaves
they gave him, and bleated to ask for more.

Turnover, the cat, and Skyrocket, the dog, who had been in the house
ever since the big storm, were also glad to see their friend the goat.

"And we'll be glad to see that lame boy, whoever he is, when daddy and
Uncle Frank dig him out," said Mother Martin.

With their big shovels it did not take the two men long to dig their way
to the snow bungalow. The pile of white flakes was deep over it but not
so deep that a tunnel had to be cut, though it was through a tunnel, as
they found out afterward, that Nicknack had made his way from the
bungalow to the house. Only it was a small tunnel, such as an animal
would make wallowing his way through the drifts.

The day before, when looking for Nicknack, Uncle Frank and Daddy Martin
had tunneled to the bungalow door, but in the night this tunnel had
caved in, so they had to do the work over again.

"Here we are!" cried Uncle Frank, as his shovel struck on some wood.
"This is the bungalow. Now to see who's inside of it!"

"Here's the place where the goat got out," went on Mr. Martin. "Whoever
tied that note on his neck must have pulled loose a board to let him get
out into the snow. Hello in there!" he called, striking with his shovel
on the bungalow.

"Yes--I'm here," came back the faint answer.

"We'll have you out in a few minutes," cheerfully called Daddy Martin.
"You'll soon be all right!"

Then he and Uncle Frank made larger the hole where the board had been
torn off, for the snow was piled up against the door, having drifted
heavily during the night.

As they entered the bungalow, after knocking off more boards, they saw,
lying on the rug and a piece of carpet in the corner, a boy who, when he
tried to stand up, almost fell.

"I--I'm sorry," he began, "but I----"

"Now don't say another word!" exclaimed Daddy Martin. "We'll take you to
the house and you can talk afterward--after you've had something to eat
and when you get warm. You'll be all right! Don't