"How much farther is it to the Camp?" Miss Mink asked desperately.

"About a mile," said the conductor. "I wouldn't try it if I was you, the
walking's fierce."

But Miss Mink was not to be turned back. Gathering her skirts as high as
her sense of propriety would permit, and grasping her basket she set
bravely forth. The trip alone to the Camp, under the most auspicious
circumstances, would have been a trying ordeal for her, but under the
existing conditions it required nothing less than heroism. The snow had
drifted in places as high as her knees, and again and again she stumbled
and almost lost her footing as she staggered forward against the force
of the icy wind.

Before she had gone half a mile she was ready to collapse with
nervousness and exhaustion.

"Looks like I just can't make it," she whimpered, "and yet I'm going
to!"

The honk of an automobile sent her shying into a snowdrift, and when she
caught her breath and turned around she saw that the machine had stopped
and a hand was beckoning to her from the window.

"May I give you a lift?" asked a girl's high sweet voice and, looking
up, she saw a sparkling face smiling down at her over an upturned fur
collar.

Without waiting to be urged she climbed into the machine, stumbled over