violently.

"You mustn't sleep!" he exclaimed. "You'll freeze to death and
never wake up!"

"It's getting terribly cold," he continued; "we'd better get up and
jump round."

But John and I did not wish to stir from that one small slightly
warmed spot. Our toes and fingers ached. A fine dust of snow sifted
down on our faces; and how that old barn did creak! A gale was
raging.

"I guess it would be warmer under the barn floor," Willis said, at
last. "There's almost always old dry stuff under a barn floor. If
we can only lift up a plank or two, we'll get down there."

"Yes, let's do it!" quavered John. "If we get under the floor the
barn won't kill us, maybe, if it blows down."

Willis crept to the ends of the floor planks, next the lean-to, and
tried first one and then another. Soon he found one that could be
raised and tipped it over, making an aperture large enough to
descend through. It was "pokerish" moving about in the dark; but we
thrust down our legs and found that there was dry chaff and hay
there. Willis let himself down and felt around, and then bade us
get down beside him. We snuggled together under the floor, and with
our hands banked the old stuff about our shivering bodies.

It seemed safer down there, and we felt the wind less, but lay