rs.

The morning was gray with a snow fog hanging low, and feathery flakes
were sinking upon the whitened street. "Listen!" cried the boy,
excitedly, as they neared the Wickiup. From somewhere in the sky came
the faint scream of a locomotive whistle. "That's them, all right.
Gee! I'd like to buck snow."

"Would you?"

"Would I? Wouldn't you?"

A hundred men were strung along the platform, and a sharper blast
echoed across the upper flat. "There they are!" cried Solomon,
pressing forward. Gertrude saw a huge snow-covered monster swing
heavily around the yard hill. The ploughs were at hand. The head
engine whistled again, those in the battery took up the signal, and
heeled in snow they bore down on the Wickiup whistling a chorus.
Before the long battery had halted, the men about Gertrude were running
toward the cabs, cheering. Many men poured out of the battered
ice-bound cars at the end of the string. While Gertrude's eyes
strained with expectation a collie dog shot headlong to the platform
from the steps of the hind caboose, and wheeling about, barked madly
until, last of three men together, Glover, carrying his little bag,
swung down, and listening to his companions, walked leisurely forward.

Swayed by the excitement which she did not fully understand all about
her, Gertrude, with swimming eyes, saw Solomon dash toward Glover and
catch his bag. As the boy spoke to him she saw Glover's head lift in
the deliberate surprise she knew so well. She felt his wandering eyes
bend upon her, and his hand rose in suppressed joyfulness.

Doubt, care, anxiety, fled before that gesture. Stumah, wild with
delight, bounded at her, and before she could greet him, Glover, a
giant in his wrappings, was bending over her, his eyes burning through
the veil that hid her own. She heard without comprehending his words;
she asked questions without knowing she asked, because his hand so
tightly clasped hers.

They walked up the platform and he stopped but once; to speak to the
snugly clad man that got down from the head engine. Gertrude
recognized the good-natured profile under the long cap; Paddy McGraw
lifted his visor as she advanced and with a happy laugh greeted him.

Smiling at her welcome he drew off his glove and took from an inner
pocket her ring and held it out on his hand. "I am taking good care of
my souvenir."

"I hope you are taking good care of yourself," Gertrude responded,
"because every time I ride