ockdown for poor old Dal."

"Who was poor old Dal?" said the listener, almost inaudibly.

"Cousin Dallas--Dallas Adams. I thought the poor chap would have gone
mad. He was just getting ready for Cambridge. But after a bit he
pulled himself together, and `Never mind, Bel,' he said--I'm Bel, you
know; Abel Wray--`Never mind,' he said, `now's the time for a couple of
strong fellows like we are to show that we've got some stuff in us.
Bel,' he said, `the dear old mother must never know what it is to
want.'"

It was the other's turn to draw in his breath with a low hissing sound,
and the narrator's voice sounded still more husky and strange, as if he
were touched by the sympathy of his companion, as he went on:

"I said nothing to Dal, but I thought a deal about how easy it was to
talk, but how hard for fellows like us to get suitable and paying work.
But if I said nothing, I lay awake at nights trying to hit on some plan,
till the idea came--ah! is that the snow coming down?"

"No, no! It was only I who moved."

"But what--what are you doing? Why, you've turned over on your face."

"Yes, yes; to rest a bit."

"I'm trying you with all this rigmarole about a poor, unfortunate
beggar."

"No, no!" cried the other fiercely. "Go on--go on."

The narrator paused for a few moments.

"Thank you, old fellow," he whispered softly, and he felt for and
grasped the listener's hand, to press it hard. "I misjudged you. It's
pleasant to find a bit of sympathy like this. I've often read how
fellows in shipwrecks, and wounded men after battles, are drawn together
and get to be like brothers, and it makes one feel how much good there
is in the world, after all. I expect you and I will manage to keep
alive for a few days, old chap, and then we shall have to make up our
minds to die--like men. I won't be so cowardly any more. I feel
stronger, and till we do go to sleep once and for all we'll make the
best of it, like men."

"Yes, yes, yes! Go on--go on!"

CHAPTER SIX.

A STRANGE MADNESS.

It was some time, though, before the narrative was continued, and then
it was with this preface.

"Don't laugh at me, old chap. The shock of all this has made me as weak
and hysterical as a girl. I say, I'm jolly glad it's so dark."

"Laugh at you!"

"I say, if you speak in that way I shall break down altogether. That
fellow choked a lot of the man out of me, and then the excitement, and
on the top of it this horrible