staggered forth Heysham came up abreast, with the water
dripping from his horse, and I found breath to exclaim:

"Well done! I never should have thought a city man could bring a horse
down there."

"Thanks!" said Heysham, with more than a suspicion of dryness. "In this
enlightened country one must earn one's bread as one can, but I wasn't
brought up to the drummer's calling. Used to ride with--but that has
nothing to do with you, and I'm hoping you'll strike the railroad on the
shortest possible line. It wouldn't be nice to spend to-night on the
prairie."

There could be no doubt on this point, for when we reached the levels
darkness had closed down and the air was thick with uplifted snow which
smarted our eyes and made breathing difficult, while, for the first time,
I commenced to have misgivings. Heysham had understated the case, for
unless we struck the railroad we might very well freeze to death on the
prairie. I explained this to him, and gave him directions how he could
find a farm by following the creek; but he laughed.

"It's an exciting run," he said, "and even life in Winnipeg grows
monotonous. Lead on, I'm anxious to be in at the finish."

The snow came down in earnest before we had made two more leagues, and,
steering partly by the wind and partly by instinct of direction, I held on
half-choked and blinded, more and more slowly, until, when at last the
case looked hopeless, Heysham shouted, for a telegraph post loomed up.

"You have reached the railroad, anyway," he said. "The only question
is--how far from the station are we?"

We drew rein for a few moments beside the graded track, and shook the snow
from our wrappings as we debated the simple question whose issues were
momentous. The horses were worn out, we were nearly frozen, and the white
flakes whirled more and more thickly about us.

"We can only go and see, and the track at least will guide us," I said at
last. "I don't think the station can be many miles away."

The rest of the journey left but a blurred memory of an almost sightless
struggle through a filmy haze, in which we occasionally lost each other
and touch with the guiding poles, until at last, caked thick with
wind-packed snow, we caught sight of a pale glimmer, and fell solidly, as
it were, out of the saddle in the shelter of the station. Here, however, a
crushing disappointment awaited us.

"Stopping train passed two hours ago," said the station agent. "Won't be
another until