e morning dawned gray with snow which still whirled in wreaths about
the sorrowing homes of Barton; but Robert Hardy thought of the merciful
covering it would make for the ghastly piles of ruin down under the
bridge and along the banks of the river. He said to himself, "This is
my fourth day; how can I best spend it? What shall I do?" He kneeled
and prayed, and rose somewhat refreshed.

The forenoon went rapidly by, and before he knew it noon was near. The
time had passed in watching Clara, visiting with Bess and Will; and
doing some necessary work for the company in his little office
downstairs. He did not feel like saying anything to George yet. James
Caxton had been in, and the first thing he had mentioned had been his
own act in the meeting the night before. Mr. Hardy thanked God for it,
and a prayer went out of his heart for his own son, that the Spirit
might touch him in his sin, and bring him into the light of Christ.

A little after noon the storm cleared up, and Robert prepared to go
down to the shops. Clara had not yet come out of her stupor. The
doctor had called and done what he could. There was nothing in
particular that Mr. Hardy could do in the case, so he went out about
one o'clock and entered his office, hoping as he went in that he would
have no trouble with the men.

Mr. Burns reported everything quiet, and the manager, with a sigh of
relief, proceeded with the routine duties of the business. Nothing of
any special interest occurred through the afternoon. The storm had
ceased entirely, and the sun had come out clear and warm. People were
clearing off the walks, and the ringing of sleigh bells was distinct in
the office, even over the incessant hum of the big engine.

Toward three o'clock one of Mr. Hardy's old friends, an officer of the
road, came in and said there was a general movement on foot throughout
Barton to hold a monster mass meeting in the Town Hall for the benefit
of the sufferers, both in the railroad accident and in the explosion of
the Sunday before in the shops. It was true the company would settle
for damages, but in many cases the adjustment of claims would not be
made until much suffering and hardship had been endured. There was a
feeling on the part of the townspeople that a meeting for public
conference would result in much good, and there was also, as has been
the case in other large horrors, a craving to relieve the strain of
feeling by public gathering and con