"Oh, I am--glad"--her voice fluctuated softly, but the sparkle broke in
her eyes--"that it isn't worse. Would you like a glass of ice-water from
the train? A porter is coming and the conductor, too. I will ask for
anything."

He smiled again. "You'll get it, if you do. But what I want most just now
is a glass of that port. Elizabeth," and his glance moved to the other
girl, "where did you put that hamper?"

Elizabeth, followed by the porter, hurried around to the other side of the
automobile to find the basket, and Tisdale moved a few steps away, waiting
to see if he could be of further service.

A passenger with a camera and an alert, inquiring face had come down from
the day coach. He wound the film key and focussed for a closer exposure,
but no one noticed him. At that moment all interest centered on the man
who was hurt. "Well," said the conductor at last, having looked the group
and the situation over, "what's the trouble?"

"Looks like a broken axle, doesn't it? And possibly a broken leg." He
groaned and repeated aggressively: "A broken axle. With the worst of
Snoqualmie Pass before us, and not a garage or a repair shop within fifty
miles."

"You are in a fix, sure. But this train will take you through the Pass to
Ellensburg, and there ought to be a hospital and a garage there. Or--the
westbound passenger, due at this siding in seven minutes"--the conductor
looked at his watch--"could put you back in Seattle at eight-fifteen."

"Make it the westbound; no hospital for me. Telegraph for a drawing-room,