the rear, and repeated the order, and the cow-punchers rode into the herd with shouts and with active lashing of their quirts, and the beasts picked up their pace again and hurried forward through the snow, which had begun to whiten the ground.

Kit returned to Ted's side.

"What do you think of it?" he asked.

"If we had an hour more of daylight, I think we could make it," said Ted.

"Any doubt of it?"

"Well, when it becomes dark we'll lose sight of Long Tom, and we're likely to drift, because, unless the cattle are driven into the storm, they'll turn tail to it and go the other way."

"I can't see Long Tom now."

"I can, although the snow almost blots it out. There it is right in the northwest. I can just make it out. The herd is drifting south of it now. Better get over on your point, and head them up this way a bit."

Soon the herd was driving forward in the right direction again.

But suddenly the darkness came down like of pall of black smoke, shutting out everything, and the wind increased in violence, rising with a howl and a shriek like some enormous and terrible animal in rage.

"It's all off," said Ted to himself, with a sigh.

The cattle came to a stop.

"Keep them going!" shouted Ted, riding back frantically along the line.

The cow-punchers dashed among the animals, shouting and beating them with their quirts, and managed to get them started again, but it was only for a short time, for again they stopped, bellowing, the leaders milling and throwing everything into confusion.

"That settles it," shouted Ted to Bud. "They're going to drift all night if we don't stop them."

"Dern ther luck, I says," growled Bud. "How fur aire we from ther ranch?"

"The worst of it is we're right on it. The ranch house isn't more than three miles from here, and if we could have got there we would have been all right. By morning we may be ten miles away, if we let the herd drift, and we'll have a dickens of a time getting the brutes back through the snow."

"What aire we goin' ter do with the wimminfolks?"

"I'm going to try to get them to the ranch house. You boys will have to make a snow camp, and hold the herd from drifting at all odds. Don't let them sneak on you. Keep pushing them from the south. You see, they're all turned that way now with their tails to the wind. As soon as they get cold they will begin to move. Don't let 'em do it."

"All right, Ted. We'll do the best we can. You take care o' ther wimminfolks. So long, an' good luck."

Ted rode back to where Mrs. Graham was shivering in the closed wagon the boys had provided for her, and Stella was sitting her pony by her side, trying to encourage her.

Carl Schwartz was the jehu of the outfit, and sat on the driver's seat, a fair imitation of a snow man.

"Carl, get a move on you. We're going to try to make the Long Tom ranch house," said Ted. "I'll lead, and you follow. If you lose sight of me, yell to me and I'll come back. I've got my pocket searchlight, and will send you back a flash now and then."

Carl was half frozen and would have been pleased to get down and walk the rest of the distance, but he knew the danger that surrounded them, and simply yelled back "Yah!" and gathered up the reins for a start.

"Come on, Stella," said Ted. "We're going to try to make the ranch house."

Without a word Stella followed him, and the little caravan struck into the teeth of the snow-laden wind, which was now blowing half a gale.

The wagon moved slowly through the snow, which was getting deeper every minute, and was like heavy sand.

Every few minutes Carl's voice could be heard, and Ted called back to him.

Ted was traveling entirely by instinct, for it was so dark that he could not see a foot in front of them.

So they struggled on for an hour, halting occasionally to give the horses a breathing spell, then drove obstinately forward again.

"We should have been at the ranch house long ago," shouted Ted at last, pulling in his panting horse.

"Then we're lost, I suppose," shouted Stella in return.

"Looks that way."

"What are you going to do?"

"Stop for the rest of the night."

"I wouldn't. Keep on until the horses won't go any farther."

"All right, if you think best."

On they went again for a half hour more, and Ted was beginning to believe it was folly to go any farther when his pony stumbled and almost fell.

In front of them loomed a darkness more intense than before.

Ted scrambled from the back of his pony and led it forward. The pony had stumbled over the horse block at the very door of the Long Tom ranch house.

CHAPTER II.

THE LONG TOM RANCH.

Ted and Stella raised such a shout that Carl pulled his horses up just in time to keep them from trying to climb upon the veranda.

With the aid of his searchlight Ted had found the door and entered the house, followed by Stella.

In the big, front living room they found a lamp, which they lighted and looked around.

The house had been left ready for occupancy, and in the great, wide fireplace logs were piled high ready to be burned.

In a moment Ted had a fire leaping high up the chimney, then hastened out to the carriage.

Carl had scrambled down from the seat of the carriage, and was so cold and numb that he couldn't walk, while Mrs. Graham had to be carried into the house by Ted and placed before the fire to thaw out.

Soon the room was comfortable, and Ted, who had set out on a tour of inspection, found that the kitchen was well stored with food.

He started a fire, and soon had coffee and bacon cooking.

Outside the storm continued to rage through the night, but all within was tight and warm, and Stella and her aunt retired to their comfortable bedrooms. But Ted sat up through the night.

He had considered starting back through the storm to the herd, but thought better of it, for Bud was perfectly capable of doing all that could be done with the cattle until daylight came to their rescue.

While daylight was struggling up through the leaden eastern sky the wind died down as suddenly as it had risen, and the snow ceased falling.

Ted had fallen into a doze in a chair in front of the fire, but a stray sunbeam coming through a window fell upon his closed eyelids, and he awoke with a start. For a minute he could not think where he was. Then the cheery voice of Stella fell upon his ears. Somewhere in the distance she was singing, and he sprang to his feet and looked about him.

It came to him that he was at the Long Tom, and he remembered having left the Circle S herd out in the blizzard.

This stirred him to action, and he went back to the kitchen with the intention of lighting the fire and getting breakfast.

He stopped in the doorway in astonishment. Stella, with her sleeves rolled to the elbows, was busily engaged at the stove, singing as she worked.

"Good morning," said Ted. "You beat me to it. Why didn't you wake me up and put me to work?"

"Hello!" said Stella cheerily. "You looked so tired sitting in that chair that I thought I'd let you sleep. At any rate, cooking breakfast is no work for a boy in a house. Get ready. Breakfast will be on the table in a minute. What do you think I found in the shed behind the house? A mountain sheep already dressed, and hung up for us. The fellow who left this house for us certainly was a good one. He knew we'd come in hungry, and left everything ready for us."

"That was just like Fred Sturgis. He's one of the best fellows in the world. He's the owner of the ranch. Young New York fellow. Wanted to spend the winter in the East. That's how I was able to get the ranch. But I'll bet he'll be back here before the snow melts. You couldn't keep him off the range for any length of time."

"He certainly has good taste. The house is almost as nice as the Moon Valley