struggling with all his might to free himself from the snow that held him
captive. This proved to be no easy task. He was pretty firmly embedded,
and at first it seemed as though his efforts at release only made his
position worse.

"This is a fine fix to be in!" said he to himself. "Buried in a
snow-drift; and dear knows what's happened to Mr. Johnston."

He had been hoping that the foreman would come to his assistance, but
getting no reply to his shouts, he began to fear lest his companion might
be unable to render any help. Perhaps, indeed, he might be dead! The
thought roused him to still greater exertions, and at last by a heroic
effort he succeeded in turning a kind of somersault in his cold prison,
which had the happy result of putting his head where his heels had been.
To scramble out altogether was then an easy job, and in another instant
he was beside the sleigh.

His first thought was that his worst fears were realized. Certainly the
sight was one that might have filled a stouter heart with chill alarm.
The horse had fallen into a deep drift, which covered him to the
shoulders, and rendered him utterly helpless, entangled as he was with
the harness and the over-turned jumper. He had evidently, like Frank,
been struggling violently to free himself, but finding it useless, had
for a time ceased his efforts, and stood wild-eyed and panting, the
picture of animal terror. On seeing Frank he made another frantic plunge
or two, looking at the boy with an expression of agonized appeal, as
though he would say,--

"Oh, help me out of this dreadful place!"