Janet Hardy in Hollywood

“Better get up every few minutes and swing your arms and stamp your feet,” advised Ed. “That’ll keep the circulation going; otherwise you may suffer frostbite.”

Helen squinted her eyes and looked at her watch in the dim light shed by the single bulb. It was just after midnight.

“Wonder if we’ll be home by morning,” she asked, turning back to Janet.

“Let’s hope so, though I’m not in the least bit hungry after the big meal we had at Youde’s.”

“That seems ages away,” replied Helen. “I’d almost forgotten the skating party.”

Margie, who had taken shelter under Janet’s coat, spoke up.

“It’s all the bus driver’s fault. We never should have left Youde’s.”

“But none of us wanted to spend the night there,” said Janet. “Of course we didn’t dream the snow would have drifted this much.”

“The driver should have known,” insisted Margie, and Janet thought her more than a little unreasonable, but then Margie was probably thoroughly chilled and likely to disagree with everything and everyone.

The minutes passed slowly, dragging as Janet had never known they could. The cold increased in intensity and some of the other girls, not as warmly dressed as Janet and Helen, began to complain.

“My feet are getting numb,” said Bernice Grogan, a slip of a little black-haired Irish girl.

“Better keep them moving,” said Ed Rickey. “Here, I’ll move them for you until the circulation starts back.”

Ed knelt down on the floor and took Bernice’s boots in his hands, massaging her feet vigorously.

Soon Bernice began to cry.

“It’s the pain. They hurt terribly.”

“Just the circulation coming back,” said Ed, but Janet knew from the lines on his forehead that Ed was worried.

“If any of the rest of you feel numb, just call out. We’ve got to keep moving or some of us may suffer some frozen parts before morning,” he warned.

Bernice, in spite of her efforts, couldn’t keep the tears back, but they froze on her cheeks, so bitter was the cold.

Jim Barron opened the door, and a rush of cutting air swept in. Then he was gone into the night and Janet could hear him wielding the shovel outside.

It was five or six minutes before Jim returned and he looked utterly exhausted.

“I’ve never seen such a night,” he mumbled. “I’m afraid the bus driver didn’t get very far.”

“Then we’d better start out after him,” said Ed, getting to his feet.

But Jim’s broad shoulders barred the door.

“We’re going to stay right here. You can’t even find the fences now. It would be suicide to start in the dark. The only thing we can do is keep as warm as possible inside the bus. I started throwing snow up around the windows. Some of you fellows give me a hand. We’ll bank the bus in snow clear to the top and that will keep out some of this bitter wind.”

“But if you cover the bus with snow, they’ll never find us when they come hunting us,” protested Cora.

“Just never mind about that,” retorted Jim. “The only thing I’m worrying about now is keeping us from freezing to death.”

Jim’s words shocked the girls into silence.

Chapter VI

DESPERATE HOURS

Freezing to death! The phrase was terrible in its import, yet the danger was very near and very deadly, for there was slight chance that the bus driver had gotten through to give a warning of their predicament. Even if he had Janet wondered if any searching party could brave the rigors of the night.

Outside the boys worked steadily, coming inside in shifts, and then going back. They could hear the snow thud against the side of the bus as it was piled higher and higher and the sound of the wind gradually faded as the wall of snow protecting them from it thickened.

The light from the single bulb was ghostly now. The battery seemed to be weakening. Helen looked at her watch. It was just one o’clock when the boys came in, beating their hands and knocking the frost from their breath off their coats.

Jim was the last one in and he closed the door carefully after him.

Bernice was crying again and Ed, though half frozen himself, bent down and massaged her feet. Miss Bruder was white and shaken for it was more than she could cope with and she turned to Ed and Jim to pull them through the emergency.

While Ed worked with Bernice’s feet, Jim spoke to the group.

“We might as well face this thing frankly,” he said. “We’re in an awful jam. It must be fifteen or twenty below right now. The snow has stopped, but the wind is increasing in strength and the snow is drifting badly. It may be hours, perhaps a day, before we’re discovered.”

He paused and watched the conflicting emotions on their faces, then plunged on.

“We’ve banked the bus with snow to keep out the worst of the wind, but it’s going to be terribly cold just the same. We’ve got to keep moving, keep up our spirits. If we don’t – ”

But Jim didn’t finish his sentence. There was no need for they all knew what would happen once they became groggy and sleepy.

“I’m going to start with a count and I want all of you to beat your feet in time with me. That’ll jar your whole body and warm you up a little.”

Jim started counting and soon the whole group was stamping their feet methodically.

Even Janet had not realized how cold she was. Her feet had felt a little numb, but under the steady pounding against the floor they started to tingle, then burn with an intensity that brought tears to her eyes where they froze on her lashes.

“I’m nearly frozen,” chattered Margie, huddling closer to Janet. “If it wasn’t for your coat I’d be like an icicle by this time.”

They kept up the motion with their feet for at least five minutes, and Jim called a halt then.

“Everyone feel a little warmer?” he asked.

“My hands are still cold,” said one of the girls, but Janet was too stiff to turn around and see who was speaking.

“Then here’s an arm drill for everyone,” said Jim, starting to swing his arms in cadence.

When that exercise was completed, most of them could feel their bodies aglow as the blood raced through their veins.

Ed started to tell funny stories and though he did his best, their own situation was so tragic that nothing appeared humorous. But he kept them interested, which was the main thing.

Helen was the first to break the now monotonous flow of Ed’s words.

“Stop, Ed,” she said, her voice low and tense. “Shake Miss Bruder, quick!”

Ed turned suddenly to the teacher, who had been sitting back of him. Her head had fallen forward on her chest and her arms hung limp.

The husky senior picked her up and brought her back under the light, the rest crowding around him.

Then Janet took charge. Miss Bruder’s eyes were closed, but she was breathing slowly.

“I believe she’s half frozen. She was sitting where a constant knife of air was coming in around the door,” whispered Jim. “Get busy and massage her.”

Janet, with Helen helping her, stripped off Miss Bruder’s thin gloves. Her hands were pitifully white.

Ed scooped up a handful of snow where it had sifted in around the door and used it to rub Miss Bruder’s hands while Janet and Helen massaged the upper part of her body and her face.

It was five minutes before the teacher responded to their frantic efforts. Then her eyes opened and she tried to smile.

“I must have dozed for a moment,” she whispered.

“Don’t talk,” said Helen. “Rest now.”

“Is everyone all right?” insisted the teacher.

“Everybody’s here,” replied Jim, who was keeping a close eye on Bernice, who seemed the most susceptible to the cold.

Ed pulled Janet to the rear of the bus.

“This thing is getting serious,” he whispered. “Some of the girls won’t be able to stand it until morning unless we’re able to keep them warmer. Jim and I have sheepskins. We’ll put them down on the floor and you girls get down and lie on them. Huddle together and cover up with your own coats. Your body heat should keep you warm and we’ll be moving around and talking to you so none of you will get too drowsy from the cold.”

“But you can’t do that. You and Jim will freeze,” protested Janet.

“Freeze? I guess not. We’re too tough for that. Besides, I’ve got all kinds of clothes on under this sheepskin.”

Janet finally agreed to the plan and Ed explained it briefly. Miss Bruder hesitated, but the others overruled her.

Jim and Ed placed their heavy canvas, sheep-lined coats on the floor and the girls laid down on them like ten pins, huddling together and putting their own coats over them.

“Get just as close as you can so you’ll keep each other warm,” counseled Jim, who, minus his heavy coat, was busy swinging his arms and legs.

In less than five minutes the girls were ready to admit that the plan was an excellent one, for they were quite comfortable under the mound of coats and Janet made them keep up a constant flow of conversation, calling to each girl every few minutes. Up in the front of the bus they could hear the boys moving steadily and stamping their feet.

How long they had been under the pile of coats Janet couldn’t guess, but suddenly there was a wild pounding on the door of the bus. She managed to get her head out from under the coats in time to see Jim open the door.

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