Ned. "Fenn, suppose you take a look at the compass."
Fenn, who carried the little instrument, reached in his overcoat pocket for it. He did not find it. Then he looked in several other pockets.
"What's the matter? Haven't lost it, have you?" asked Bart. "I'm afraid so. Didn't I give it to you, Ned, this morning?"
"Never saw it," replied Ned.
Fenn made a more thorough search. The compass was not to be found. The boys stood there helplessly, in the midst of the howling storm, which was now at its height.
The snow was a blinding, scurrying, mass of flakes which stung their faces like needles. Overhead the trees were bending to the blast and the gale was roaring through the branches. There was no path. Ten feet ahead it look like a blank white wall.
"Boys, we're lost in the woods, and the blizzard is getting worse!" cried Bart, almost having to shout to make himself heard above the storm.
