Everyone was too tired to stay up long, after the day's trip, and so "early to bed" was the rule, for the first night at least.
As Bert went up to his room with his cousin Harry he looked out of the window. It was too dark to see much, but the boy could get a glimpse of the snow blowing against the panes with great force.
"Poor Henry Burdock!" thought Bert. "If it wasn't for that missing money he and his uncle might be living here at Snow Lodge. I wonder where Henry is now? Maybe off somewhere in the woods, lost—as we nearly were!"
The thought made him feel sad. Surely it was a terrible night to be out in the forest, amid the storm and darkness.
"I wish I could help him," thought Bert, but he did not see how he could. Mr. Carford was a stern old man, and he believed his nephew had taken the money that was missing.
The storm raged all night, and part of the next day. Then it cleared off, leaving a great coating of white in the woods, and over the fields.
