The snow began to fall in earnest.

Numb with cold, he groped his way back to the house, almost fainting from exhaustion.
Lloyd was blowing soap-bubbles when she saw him come in and fall heavily across the couch.

The ghastly pallor of his face and his closed eyes frightened her so that she dropped the little clay pipe she was using.
As she stooped to pick up the broken pieces, her mother's cry startled her still more.

"Lloyd, run call Becky, quick, quick! Oh, he's dying!" Lloyd gave one more terrified look and ran to the kitchen, screaming for Mom Beck.

No one was there.
The next instant she was running bareheaded as fast as she could go, up the road to Locust.