There was a rush after the glass window had been closed.
Never had a prettier snow scene been exposed to view.

The snow was still swirling down, while what had fallen was up level with the window.
"It's a good four feet deep, already!" cried Dave.
"And looks as though it would go on snowing for a week," added Tom Reade joyously.
"Fellows," announced Dick, "we're surely snowbound.

That's something that we've often dreamed about.

Say, wouldn't it be queer if we had a long spell of this sort of thing, and couldn't--simply couldn't--get back to Central Grammar by the time school opens again after the holidays ?" "If the food holds out it'll be fun," assented Tom Reade.
Soon another shutter was opened, admitting more daylight.

When they got around to the rear window, and got it open, Dick pointed to the shack in the rear.
"Well, we know that Mr.Fits hasn't been out to-day," Prescott laughed.
"Just look at his door.