Foreman McDonald, tearing like a raving maniac at the hairs of his head,
while through the quietude of the night reverberated his heart-rending
shrieks: "Oh God! Give me back my baby! Bring back my darling Helen!
Merciful Father, do not punish me so cruelly as this!"

[Illustration: "Oh God! Give me back my baby! Merciful Father, do not
punish me so cruelly as this!"]

While we stood there wondering as to the causes of Foreman McDonald's
strange pleading, his wife, pale as the snow, came from around the rear
of the section house and begged us to take hold of Mr. McDonald to
prevent him from harming himself, and when at this moment we saw the
strong man sink into a corner of the porch and commence to pray aloud,
we made a rush and after we took hold of him it required every bit of
strength we six husky men could muster to restrain and drag him into the
section house, where we stretched and tied him upon his bed and gave him
narcotics that caused him to fall into a deep slumber.

While we sat about his bed watching his every move, poor Mrs. McDonald
repeated to us, amid heart-racking sobs, the dire calamity that had
overtaken her happy family since our departure. That Helen, the pet of
the family and of the rough section men, had disappeared from her home,
leaving not a trace. Further questioning elicited from the distracted
mother this information:

The blizzard had given way to a perfectly calm afternoon, and after they
had enjoyed their Christmas dinners, Mrs. McDonald had watched Helen
toddle behind her brothers to where the passing siding turned away from
the main line, permitting a small pond to form, which, being smooth as
glass and swept clear of snow by the storm, offered a splendid