d--very."

"I am afraid it is going to be--the wind is rising and it's coming right
in our faces. We're a pack of fools to go!"

"We must be nearly half way there, aren't we?"

"I think so--I have never been out to the Morton ranch. Well, if worst
comes to worst, I guess they'll keep us all night."

The crowd was beginning to quiet down. By the time they had covered two
more miles the wind was blowing the snow in their faces with stinging
force. John Hardy was having trouble to keep the horses in the road.
They, too, recoiled from the snow drifting in their faces. He finally
persuaded his companion to go back under the robes. Sherm volunteered to
take her place.

"I don't like the look of things," said Hardy in a low tone as Sherm
climbed up beside him. "Can you tell where we are?"

Sherm stared at the snow-covered waste ahead and tried to recognize some
familiar land mark in the white gloom.

"Yes, I think so. That was Elm Creek you crossed some time back. We must
be about half way from Elm to Big John."

"How far now?"

"Three miles."

"Can you see the time?"

"Nine-twenty."

"The dickens, we ought to be there!"

"It oughtn't to be long now. Let me take the reins--your hands must be
cold."

"Just a minute till I start the circulation. I feel sort of responsible
for this gang, because I got up this fool enterprise." Hardy clapped his
hands together vigorously.

"It wouldn't be bad except for the wind!" Hardy said presently.

"That's the worst of Kansas, there always is a wind!" Sherm had not yet
been entirely converted to the charms of the sunflower state.

When Hardy took the reins again, Sherm still peered ahead, watching the
road. He had been finding something vaguely unfamiliar about the
landscape, though this was not strange since neither house nor tree nor
haystack was visible through the storm until they were almost upon it.
Then it loomed up suddenly shrouded and spectral. This feeling of
strangeness grew upon him and he felt uneasy.

"Stop the team a minute, Hardy." Sherm got down and went to the horses'
heads, peering all about. He scraped the snow away with his foot and
examined the ground.

He let out a shrill whistle of dismay, as he uncovered grass spears
instead of the hard-trodden road bed.

"Say, Hardy, we're off the road. I thought so from the way the sled was
dragging."

Hardy climbed hastily down with an exclamation that sounded profane. The
boys in the sleigh also piled