Tom Reade sprang to his aid, for the bottom of the door was frozen to the sill.
"Bring the hot water, Hen," called Reade.
"Get it yourself," grumbled Hen.

But when Tom turned, and Hen saw his face, the latter made haste to bring the tea-kettle.
[Illustration: Dick Plied His Shovel Vigorously.] "I'd better pour the water," proposed Tom, taking the kettle.

"Dick, you and Dave begin to yank on the door as soon as you see the hot stream trickling on below." Reade made economical use of the water, yet it took considerable pouring to loosen up the door at the sill.
"Better go slow with that water," warned Dutcher.

"It's the last there is in the place." "Humph!" retorted Tom.

"Once we get outside I guess we can dig our way to the spring." At last the door yielded and swung open.