Then,
as the place warmed up, we pulled off Tom's frozen outer coat and
waistcoat, got the water out of his boots, and set him behind the stove.
Still he shook and could speak only with difficulty. We kept a hot fire
and finally boiled water in a kettle and, gathering wintergreen leaves
from a knoll outside the camp, made a hot tea for him.
At last we put him into the bunk and covered him as best we could with
our own coats, which we did not miss, since the camp was now as hot as
an oven. For more than an hour longer, however, his tremors continued in
spite of the heat. Addison and I took turns rushing outside to cut wood
from dry spruces to keep the stove hot. A little later, as I came in
with an armful, I found Addison watching Tom.
"Sh!" he said. "He's asleep."
The afternoon was waning; a cold, windy night was coming on.
"What shall we do?" Addison whispered in perplexity. "I don't believe we
ought to take him out; his clothes aren't dry yet. We shall have to stay
here all night with him."
"But what will the folks at home think?" I exclaimed.
"Of course they will worry about us," Addison replied gloomily. "But I'm
afraid Tom will get his death o' cold if we take him out.
Pages:
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134