aggage-room, was going over his last week's way-bills and accounts
by the light of a lantern, trying to locate an error, and sighing
profanely to himself as he failed to find it. A wooden trunk tied with
rope, a couple of dingy canvas bags, a long box marked "Fresh Fish!
Rush!" and two large leather portmanteaus with brass fittings were
piled on the luggage-truck at the far end of the platform; and beside
the door of the waiting-room, sheltered by the overhanging eaves, was a
neat travelling bag, with a gun-case and a rod-case leaning against the
wall. The wet rails glittered dimly northward and southward away into
the night. A few blurred lights glimmered from the village across the
bridge.

Dudley Hemenway had observed all these features of the landscape with
silent dissatisfaction, as he smoked steadily up and down the platform,
waiting for the Maritime Express. It is usually irritating to arrive at
the station on time for a train on the Intercolonial Railway. The
arrangement is seldom mutual; and sometimes yesterday's train does not
come along until to-morrow afternoon. Moreover, Hemenway was inwardly
discontented with the fact that he was coming out of the woods instead
of going in. "Coming out" always made him a little unhappy, whether his
expedition had been successful or not. He did not like the thought that
it was all over; and he had the very bad habit, at such times, of
looking ahead and computing the slowly lessening number of chances that
were left to him.

"Sixty odd years--I may live to be that old and keep my shooting
sight," he said to himself. "That would give me a couple of dozen more
camping trips. It's a short allowance. I wonder if any of them will be
more lucky than this one. This makes the seventh year I've tried to get
a moose; and the odd trick has gone against me every time."

He tossed away the end of his cigar, which made a little trail of
sparks as it rolled along the sopping platform, and turned to look in
through the window of the ticket-office. Something in the agent's
attitude of literary absorption aggravated him. He went round to the
door and opened it.

"Don't you know or care when this train is coming?"

"Nope," said the man placidly.

"Well, when? What's the matter with her? When is she due?"

"Doo twenty minits ago," said the man. "Forty minits late down to
Noocastle. Git here quatter to three, ef nothin' more happens."

"But what has happened already? What's wrong with t