"You keep the fire up, Horace, so's we can melt snow," said the
conductor, "and we can dilute the milk all right. It's good stuff."

"Fire!" exclaimed the engineer. "How do you expect my fireman to keep up
a blaze under that boiler on the shag-end of nothing? I tell you the
fire's going out in less than an hour. She ain't making a pound of steam
right now."

"Great Peter, Horace!" ejaculated Mr. Carter, "don't say that. We have
_got_ to have fire!"

"Well, you show me how to keep one going," said the engineer. "Unless you
know some way of burning snow, I don't see how you're going to do it."

"Take it from me, we must find a way to keep steam up in these cars,"
said Mr. Carter. "We've shut off the last two cars. The smoker's packed
with passengers as tight as a can of sardines."

"Oh! I wish he wouldn't talk about things eatable," groaned Bess, in
Nan's ear.

"Better put the women and the children in the Pullman," suggested the
baggage-man.

"Can't. Their tickets don't call for first-class accommodations," said
the conductor, stubbornly, "and none of them wants to pay the difference
in tariff."

"You've got your hands full, Carter," said the express messenger.