Читать книгу Janet Hardy in Hollywood - Wheeler Ruthe S. - Страница 5

Miss Bruder looked at the girls, huddled together on the seats, desperately trying to keep warm. Outside the boys were bravely attempting to clear a path, but it was hopeless.

“Perhaps we’d better get out and try to reach the main road on foot,” she said.

“I wouldn’t advise that,” replied the driver. “Some of the girls couldn’t make it through the drifts. It must be well below zero now and the snow’s still coming down bad.”

Just then Jim and Ed led the boys back into the bus, closing the door carefully after them. They were covered with fine snow and frost from their own breath.

“I’m going to try and break through to the road,” said Jim. “The rest of you stay here and try to keep warm. Whatever you do, don’t leave the bus.”

“If anyone is going to try to make it to the paved highway, I’m going,” spoke up the driver. “I’ve been over this road a number of times. I’ll follow the fence line and get to a farm somehow.”

In spite of the protests of the boys, the driver remained firm, insisting that he, and he alone, could make the trip.

“Keep the door shut and don’t run the motor. The heater’s out of order now and if you run the motor, carbon monoxide fumes may creep in. They’re deadly.”

But that was an unnecessary warning for all of the boys knew the danger of the motor fumes in a closed compartment.

Bundling himself up well, the driver plunged into the storm and Miss Bruder and her honors English class were left alone in the middle of Little Deer valley with the worst storm of the winter raging around their marooned bus.

Jim turned off the headlights, leaving only the red and green warning lights atop the bus on. He snapped the switches for the interior lights until only one was left aglow for there was no use to waste the precious supply of electricity in the storage battery.

If anything the whine of the wind was louder and it was exceedingly lonely out there despite the presence of the others. There was something about it that made Janet feel as though she were a hundred miles from civilization. She had not dreamed it would be possible to have such a sense of loneliness and yet be in a group of schoolmates.

Jim Barron and Ed Rickey kept on the move, talking with some of the boys or attempting to cheer up the girls.

“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.