e him. Nor did he heed
his companion's question. A strongly-marked pucker appeared between
his eyebrows, and a look of uncertainty was upon his face. Robb again
urged him.

"You haven't seen him?" he asked.

"I don't know," replied Grey.

"What do you mean?"

"I have just remembered something. I came across a--stranger the other
day. He was wrapped in furs, and I could only see his eyes. But those
eyes were distinctly familiar--'cow'-eyes, I think you said. I was
struck with their appearance at the time, but couldn't just realize
where I had seen eyes like 'em before." Then he went on reflectively:
"But no, it couldn't have been he. Ah----" He broke off and glanced in
the direction of the window as the jangle of sleigh-bells sounded
outside. "Here's our cutter. Come on."

Robb rose from his seat and brushed the crumbs from his trousers.
There came the sound of voices from the other side of the door.

"Some of the boys," said Robb, with a meaning smile. "It's early for
'em."

"I believe this is your doing," said Grey sulkily.

Robb nodded in the direction of the window. "You've got a team. This
is no 'one-horsed' affair."

The door opened suddenly and two men entered.

"Oh, here he is," said one, Charlie Trellis, the postmaster, with a
laugh. "Congratulate you, Grey, my friend. Double harness, eh? Tame
you down, my boy. Good thing, marriage--for taming a man."

"You're not looking your best," said the other, Jack Broad, the
telegraph operator. "Why, man, you look as though you were going to
your own funeral. Buck up! Come and have a 'Collins'; brace you up for
the ordeal."

"Go to the devil, both of you," said Grey ungraciously. "I don't swill
eye-openers all day like you, Jack Broad. Got something else to do."

"So it seems. But cheer up, man," replied Broad imperturbably, "it's
not as bad as having a tooth drawn."

"Nor half as unpleasant as a funeral," put in Trellis, with a grin.

Grey turned to Robb.

"Come on," he said abruptly. "Let's get. I shall say things in a
minute if I stay here."

"That 'ud be something new for you," called out Broad, as the two men
left the room.

The door closed on his remark and he turned to his companion.

"I'm sorry for the poor girl," he went on. "The most can-tankerous pig
I ever ran up against--is Grey."

"Yes," agreed the other; "I can't think how a decent fellow like
Robb Chillingwood can chum up with him. He's a surly clown--only
fit for such countries