ground. There were dark firs about, but, a little farther on, the
rails glistened in the moonlight, and he dully realized that he had
fallen off the car. A faint snorting and a rumble that echoed across
the forest showed that the train was going on. Foster lay still and
listened until the sound died away. It looked as if nobody but the men
who had attacked him knew there had been a struggle and he was left
behind. Then he cautiously raised his head and leaning on his elbow
looked about. It was a relief to find that he could do so, but he must
see if his antagonist had fallen off with him, because if the fellow
was not badly hurt he might renew the attack.

There was nothing in the shadow beside the line, the gap where the
rails ran into the moonlight was empty, and everything was still,
except for the sigh of the cold breeze among the firs. For all that,
Foster hesitated about getting up. The train was probably going at
forty miles an hour, the ground was hard, and he might find that some
bones were broken when he tried to move. The shock had perhaps dulled
his senses and prevented his feeling much pain. It was, however,
bitterly cold, and making an effort he got shakily upon his feet. To
his surprise, he discovered that he was not much the worse although he
felt sore and dizzy, and he sat down on a fallen branch to think what
he should do.

The next station was probably only marked by an agent's office and a
water-tank. Besides, his antagonists might get down there and come
back to look for him, in which case he would be at their mercy if they
met. It was a long way to the station they had passed, but he thought
the safest plan would be to make for it. This meant a walk of some
hours, with nothing to eat on the way, but a train from Winnipeg would
stop early in the morning, and the others would not expect him to