on the platform. It was unprotected except for a brass rail at the
side, which was divided in the middle where the steps went down. The
floor jolted and a bitter wind that whistled between the vestibules
buffeted him. Although he wore the fur coat, he shivered, and as he
stepped across the gap between the platforms the door behind him
rattled.

Turning sharply round, he saw a man's dark figure in the shadow of the
curving roof, and felt his heart beat. Then the door he had been
making for swung back, and he knew he had another antagonist to deal
with. He carried no pistol and there was not much chance of a shout
for help being heard, but he did not wait to be attacked, and with a
sudden spring threw himself upon the man in front. He felt his
knuckles jar and heard the fellow's head crash against the vestibule,
but the other seized him as he turned. Foster surmised that they
feared the report of a pistol but might use the knife, and determined
to throw the fellow down the steps. If this proved impossible, he must
try to jump off the train.

So far as he could remember, the savage struggle only lasted a few
moments. His assailant had apparently not room enough to draw a weapon
and Foster kept his grip on him, so that he could not free his right
arm, although this left his own face exposed. He was breathless and
exhausted when he fell against the rail, but with a tense effort he
lifted the fellow off his feet. Since there seemed to be no other way,
they must both fall off the train. He lost his balance and his foot
slipping from the top step threw him backward. Then he missed the rail
he clutched at and felt a heavy shock.

When his senses came back he found that he was lying on hard-frozen