ng mass of driving snow.

"By Jove! that's a corker of a blizzard, sure enough! I'll draw my
fire further in."

He seized his shovel and began to scrape the embers of his fire
together. With a shout he dropped his shovel, fell on his knees,
and gazed into the fire. Under the heap of burning wood there was
a mass of glowing coal.

"Coal!" he shouted, rushing to the front of the cave. "Coal! Coal!
Oh, Jack! Dear old Jack! It's coal!"

Trembling between fear and hope, he broke in pieces the glowing
lumps, rushed back to the seam, gathered more of the black stuff,
and heaped it around the fire. Soon his doubts were all at rest.
The black lumps were soon on fire and blazed up with a blue flame.
But for his foot, he would have mounted Jacob and ridden straight
off for the ranch through all the storm.

"Let her snow!" he cried, gazing into the whirling mist before his
eyes. "I've got the stuff that beats blizzards!"

He turned to his tea making, now pausing to examine the great black
seam, and again going to the cave entrance to whistle for his dogs.
As he stood listening to the soft whishing roar of the storm, he
thought he heard the deep bay of Queen's voice. Holding his breath,
he listened again. In the pause of the storm he heard, and
distinctly this time, that deep musical note.

"They're digging out a wolf," he said. "They'll get tired and come
back soon."

He drank his tea, struggled down the steep slope, the descent made
more difficult by the covering of soft snow upon it, and drew
another pail of water for evening use. Still the dogs did not
appear. He went to the cave's mouth again, and whistled loud and
long. This time quite distinctly he caught Queen's long, deep bay,
and following that, a call as of a human voice.

"What?" he said, "some one out in that storm?"

He dropped upon his knees, put his hands up to his ears, and
listened intently again. Once more, in a lull of the gale,
he heard a long, clear call.

"Heavens above!" he cried, "a woman's voice! And I can't make
a hundred yards with this foot of mine."

He knew enough of blizzards to realize the extreme danger to any
one caught in those blinding, whirling snow clouds.

"I can't stay here, and I can't make it with this foot,
but--yes--By Jove! Jacob can, though."

He seized his saddle and struggled out into the storm. Three paces
from the door he fell headlong into a soft drift, wrenching his
foot anew. Choking, blinded, and almost faint