Bert and Nan Bobbsey stood on the step of the log cabin, while Mrs. Bimby, the old woman, held open the door. The snow blew swirling in around her, and a wave of grateful warmth seemed to rush out as if to wrap itself around the cold twins. For a moment they stood there, and Bert was just beginning to wonder if the old woman was going to shut the door in the faces of his sister and himself.

“Did you bring any news of Jim?” asked old Mrs. Bimby.

“Jim?” repeated Bert.

“Do you mean Jim Denton, the foreman at Cedar Camp?” asked Nan.

“No, child! I mean my Jim—Jim Bimby. He went off to town just before this awful storm. But land sakes! here I am talking and keeping you out in the cold. Come in!”

It was cold. Bert and Nan were beginning to feel that now, for the storm was growing worse, and it was now late afternoon. The sun was beginning to go down, though of course it could not be seen on account of the snow and clouds. The Bobbsey twins had wandered farther and longer than they had thought. But at last they had found a place of shelter.

“It’s just like me to keep you standing there while I talk,” said Mrs. Bimby. “I’m sorry. But I’m so worried about Jim that I reckon I don’t know what I’m doing. Come in and get warm, and I’ll give you something to eat.”

“We’ve got something to eat, thank you,” said Nan. “But we would like to get warm,” and she followed Bert inside the log cabin, as Mrs. Bimby stepped aside to make room for them to enter.

“Got something to eat, have you?” questioned the old woman. “Well, you’re lucky, that’s all I’ve got to say. I’ve only a little, but I expect Jim back any minute with more, though a dollar don’t buy an awful lot these days.”

“Does Jim live here?” asked Bert, as he walked over to a stove, in which a fire of wood was burning, sending out a grateful heat.

“Of course he lives here,” said Mrs. Bimby. “He’s my husband. He’s a logger—a lumberman.”

“Oh, maybe he works for my father!” exclaimed Nan. “Mr. Bobbsey, you know. He owns part of Cedar Camp.”

“No, I don’t know him,” said Mrs. Bimby, “though I’ve heard of Cedar Camp. They got a lot of Christmas trees out of there.”

“That’s what we came up about,” explained Bert. “Some Christmas trees my father bought to sell didn’t come to Lakeport, and he came up here to see about them. We came with him—and my mother and the other twins.”

“Good land! are there more of you?” asked Mrs. Bimby in surprise. “You two are twins, for a fact. But——”

“There’s Flossie and Freddie,” interrupted Nan. “We left them back in camp while we went after chestnuts.”

“We got some, too,” added Bert. “But we sort of got lost in the storm. Do you s’pose your husband could take us back to Cedar Camp?” he asked Mrs. Bimby. “My father will pay him,” he said, quickly, as he saw Mrs. Bimby shaking her head.

“Maybe Mr. Bimby works at the sawmill,” suggested Nan.

“No,” said the old woman, “Jim is a logger and wood cutter, but he doesn’t work at Cedar Camp. That’s too far off for him to go to and get back from.”

“Too far off!” echoed Nan, and she began to have a funny feeling, as she told Bert afterward.

“Yes,” resumed Mrs. Bimby. “Cedar Camp is away over on the other side of the hills. You’re a long way from home. You must have taken the wrong road in the storm.”

“I—I guess we did,” admitted Bert. “But couldn’t your husband take us back?”

Again Mrs. Bimby shook her head.

“Jim, my husband, isn’t home,” she said. “He went over to town just before the storm to get us something to eat. But now I don’t see how he’s going to get back,” and she went to a window to look out at the storm.

It was getting much worse, as Bert and Nan could see. The wind howled around the corners of the log cabin of Jim Bimby, the logger, and the blast whistled down the chimney, even blowing sparks out around the door of the wood-burning stove.

“Yes, it’s a bad storm,” went on the old woman. “I wish Jim was back, and with some victuals to eat. When you twins knocked I thought it was Jim. I wish he’d come back, but he’s an old man, and he may fall down in the snow and not be able to get up. He isn’t as strong as he used to be. I’m certainly worried about Jim!”

“Oh, maybe he’ll come along all right,” said Nan, trying to be helpful and comforting.

“If he doesn’t pretty soon it’ll be night, and in all this storm he never can find his way after dark. But you children take your things off and sit up and have a cup of tea with me. I’ve got some tea and condensed milk left, anyhow.”

“We can’t take tea unless it’s very weak,” said Nan, remembering her mother’s rule in this respect.

“All right, dearie, I’ll make it weak for you twins, though I like it strong myself,” said Mrs. Bimby. “My, what a storm! What a storm!” and she drew her shawl more closely around her shoulders as the wind howled down the chimney.

Bert and Nan took off their warm things, laying their packages of lunch and the bags of chestnuts on the table. Nan saw the old woman go to a closet, and the glimpse the Bobbsey girl had of the shelves showed her that they contained only a little food.

“Bert and I have some of our lunch left,” said Nan.

“And you can have some, if you want to,” went on Bert. “We put up a pretty good lunch, and there’s more’n half of it left.”

“Bless your hearts, my dears,” said Mrs. Bimby. “I wouldn’t take your lunch. You’ll need it yourselves. I’ve a little victuals left in the house, though if my Jim doesn’t get back soon there won’t be much for to-morrow. My, what a storm! What a storm!”

The small log cabin seemed to shake and tremble in the wind, as though it would blow away. And the snow was now coming down so thickly that Bert and Nan could see only a short distance out of the window. There was little to see, anyhow, save trees and bushes, and these were fast becoming covered with snow.

Mrs. Bimby busied herself about the stove, putting the kettle on so she could make tea, and Bert and Nan watched her. The Bobbsey twins were wondering what would happen, how they could get home, and whether or not their father and mother would worry. Nan looked about the cabin. She did not see any beds, but a steep flight of stairs, leading up to what seemed to be a second story, might provide bedrooms, Nan thought. The cabin was clean and neat, and she was glad of that.

“I do hope Jim comes,” murmured Mrs. Bimby, as she poured the boiling water on the dry tea leaves in the pot. “I do hope he isn’t storm-bound!”

Bert and Nan hoped the same thing, for, somehow, Bert thought if Mr. Bimby came along he would take the twins back to Cedar Camp.

“Now sit up, dearies, and have some weak tea, and I’ll take mine strong. I need it for my nerves,” said the old woman.

And while Bert and Nan had thus found shelter from what turned out to be one of the worst storms ever remembered in the country around Cedar Camp, the other Bobbsey twins, Flossie and Freddie, were safe at home with their mother. Flossie was now cozy and warm after her dip into the water.

“There’s your father!” exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey, as she heard someone stamping off the snow at the front door. “I hope he has Bert and Nan with him.”

But when Mr. Bobbsey came in alone and heard that the older twins had not come back from their nutting trip, a worried look came over his face.

“Not back yet!” he exclaimed. “Why, it’s getting dark and the storm is growing worse! I must start out after them with some of the lumbermen. They must be lost!”