"Sam!" he called out softly. "Are you in there?"
"No; I'm in here," came in the voice of Tubbs. "And—I'm almost frozen to—to—death." The last words with a chattering of teeth that told only too plainly how the rich youth was suffering.
"Sorry for you, Tubby, really I am. But where is Sam?"
"In the—the storeroom. Oh, Rover, won't you please ask Mr. Grinder to let me out? I'll freeze to death here, I know I will!"
"I'll do what I can. But he won't let you out. He isn't that kind of a fellow."
"You might buy him off, Rover. I've heard he's a regular miser, and I'll give you five dollars of my Christmas money if he'll let me go."
"I'll see what I can do after I've talked to Sam." And so speaking Tom hurried to the door of the storeroom.
"Tom, is it really you?" cried the youngest Rover joyfully.
"Yes. How are you making out?"
"Horribly. I believe my feet and ears are already frozen!"
"Grinder is a beast to put you in here, Sam."
"I know that well enough. He won't give me any supper, I'm afraid."
"Then I'll try to get some supper to you."
"Is the key of this door on a hook outside?"
