Janet Hardy in Hollywood Part 8

Janet, with Helen helping her, stripped off Miss Bruder's thin gloves.

Her hands were pitifully white.

Ed scooped up a handful of snow where it had sifted in around the door and used it to rub Miss Bruder's hands while Janet and Helen ma.s.saged the upper part of her body and her face.

It was five minutes before the teacher responded to their frantic efforts. Then her eyes opened and she tried to smile.

"I must have dozed for a moment," she whispered.

"Don't talk," said Helen. "Rest now."

"Is everyone all right?" insisted the teacher.

"Everybody's here," replied Jim, who was keeping a close eye on Bernice, who seemed the most susceptible to the cold.

Ed pulled Janet to the rear of the bus.

"This thing is getting serious," he whispered. "Some of the girls won't be able to stand it until morning unless we're able to keep them warmer.

Jim and I have sheepskins. We'll put them down on the floor and you girls get down and lie on them. Huddle together and cover up with your own coats. Your body heat should keep you warm and we'll be moving around and talking to you so none of you will get too drowsy from the cold."

"But you can't do that. You and Jim will freeze," protested Janet.

"Freeze? I guess not. We're too tough for that. Besides, I've got all kinds of clothes on under this sheepskin."

Janet finally agreed to the plan and Ed explained it briefly. Miss Bruder hesitated, but the others overruled her.

Jim and Ed placed their heavy canvas, sheep-lined coats on the floor and the girls laid down on them like ten pins, huddling together and putting their own coats over them.

"Get just as close as you can so you'll keep each other warm," counseled Jim, who, minus his heavy coat, was busy swinging his arms and legs.

In less than five minutes the girls were ready to admit that the plan was an excellent one, for they were quite comfortable under the mound of coats and Janet made them keep up a constant flow of conversation, calling to each girl every few minutes. Up in the front of the bus they could hear the boys moving steadily and stamping their feet.

How long they had been under the pile of coats Janet couldn't guess, but suddenly there was a wild pounding on the door of the bus. She managed to get her head out from under the coats in time to see Jim open the door.

"Everyone safe?" cried someone outside.

"We're all right," replied Jim and then Janet saw her father looking down at the huddled group of girls on the floor of the bus. His face was covered with frost, but he brushed past the boys and knelt beside her.

"All right, honey?" he asked.

"A little cold," Janet managed to smile. "How did you get here?"

"Never mind that. The first thing is to get out of here and where you'll be safe and warm."

Other men poured into the bus. Janet recognized some of them. Ed's father was there. So was Jim's, Cora's and Margie's. Someone had a big bottle of hot coffee and cardboard cups. The steaming hot liquid, bitter without sugar or cream, was pa.s.sed around.

Janet drank her cup eagerly and the hot beverage warmed her chilled body.

Extra coats and m.u.f.flers had been brought by the rescue party.

"Get as warm as you can. It's going to be a cold ride to the paved road,"

advised her father.

They were soon ready and once more the door of the bus was opened.

Outside a powerful searchlight glowed and as they neared it Janet saw a large caterpillar tractor. Behind this was a hayrack, mounted on runners and well filled with hay.

"Everybody into the rack. Burrow down deep so you'll keep warm."

Janet's father counted them as they got into the rack, yelled to the operator of the tractor to start, and then piled into the rack himself.

With a series of sharp reports from its exhaust, the lumbering tractor got into motion, jerking the rack and its precious load behind it.

_Chapter VII_ SANCTUARY AT HOME

It was nearly an hour later when the tractor breasted the last grade and rolled down to the paved road where a dozen cars, all of them warmly heated and well lighted, were strung along the road. Anxious fathers and mothers were on hand, including Janet's mother and Mrs. Thorne and they welcomed their thoroughly chilled daughters to their bosoms.

Janet's father shepherded them into their own sedan where despite the sub-zero cold the heater had kept the car comfortable. Then they started the final lap of their eventful trip from Youde's home.

Helen and Janet sank back on the cus.h.i.+ons of the capacious rear seat, thoroughly worn out by their trying experience.

Janet's father, one of the most prominent attorneys in Clarion, slipped in behind the wheel, slamming the car door and shutting out the biting blast of air.

There were other cars ahead of them and they made no attempt at high speed as they rolled back into the city.

"How did you ever find us, Dad?" asked Janet.

"You can thank the bus driver for that. Somehow he got through to a farmhouse. He was almost frozen, but he managed to tell them the story and they phoned word in to us."

"Who thought of the tractor and hayrack?" asked Helen, warm once more.

"It was Hugh Grogan, Bernice's father. He sells the caterpillars. Good thing he did or we'd never have gotten through."

"It was a good thing for Bernice, too. She was about all in," said Janet.

When they reached the Hardy home, Janet's mother insisted that Helen and Mrs. Thorne come in and have a hot lunch before going to their own home.

While the girls took off their coats and Mr. Hardy put the car into the garage, Mrs. Hardy bustled out into the kitchen where she had left a kettle of water simmering on the stove.

Lunch was ready in short order, tea, peanut b.u.t.ter sandwiches, cookies and a large bowl of fruit.

Janet and Helen had ravenous appet.i.tes and the sandwiches disappeared as though by magic.

"How cold is it, Dad?" asked Janet.

"Twenty-two below."