he felt impatient at it; the second he was glad, for there would
certainly be some one with it who could aid him in using force, if
necessary, to bring the old man to spend the remainder of the night
within doors.

Trenholme saw the black and fiery monster come on into his dark and
silent white world. It shook a great plume of flaming smoke above its
snorting head, and by the light of the blazing jewel in its front he saw
that the iron plough it drove before it was casting the snow in misty
fountains to right and left.

When the engine stopped, Trenholme found that there was a small car with
it, containing about twenty men sent to dig out the drifts where snow
sheds had given way. These were chiefly French Canadians of a rather low
type. The engine-driver was a Frenchman too; but there was a brisk
English-speaking man whose business it was to set the disordered
telegraph system to rights. He came into the station-room to test its
condition at this point of the route. As there was a stove in their car,
only a few of the men straggled in after him. At a larger place the
party might have been tempted to tarry, but here they had no thought of
stopping an unnecessary moment. Trenholme had no time to lose, and yet
he hardly knew how to state his case. He sought the Englishman, who was
at the little telegraph table. The engineer and some others lounged
near. He began by recalling the incident of the dead man's
disappearance. Every one connected with the railway in those parts had
heard that story.

"And look here!" said he, "as far as one can judge by description, he
has come back again here to-night." All who could understand were
listening to him now. "See here!" he urged addressing the brisk