smoke rising into the air from the stack
of the front locomotive. The fires in the pusher were banked. It was not
an oil-burner, nor was it anywhere near as large a locomotive as the one
that pulled the train.

Rearward they could scarcely mark the roadbed, so drifted over was it.
Fences and other landmarks were completely buried. The bending telegraph
poles, weighted by the pull of snow-laden wires, was all that marked the
right of way through the glen.

"What a sight!" gasped Betty. "Oh, Bobby! did you ever see anything so
glorious?"

"I never saw so much snow, if that is what you mean," admitted the
Virginia girl. "And I am not sure that I really approve of it."

But Bobby laughed. She had to admit it was a great sight. It was now
mid-afternoon and all they could see of the sun was a round, hazy ball
behind the misty clouds, well down toward the western horizon which they
could see through the mouth of this cut, or valley between the hills. At
first they beheld not a moving object on the white waste.

"It is almost solemn," pursued Betty, who possessed a keen delight in all
manifestations of nature.

"It looks mighty solemn, I admit," agreed Bobby. "Especially when you
remember that anything to eat is three miles away and the drifts are
nobody knows how many feet deep."

Betty laughed. She was about to say something cheerful in reply when a
sudden sound smote upon their ears--a sound that startled the two girls.
Somewhere from over the verge of the high bank of the cut on their left
hand sounded a long-drawn and perfectly blood-curdling howl!

"For goodness' sake!" gasped Bobby, grabbing her friend by the arm. "What
sort of creature is that? Hear it?"

"Of course I hear it," replied Betty, rather sharply. "Do you think I am
deaf?"

Only a very deaf person could have missed hearing that mournful howl. It
drew nearer.

"Is it a dog?" asked Bobby, almost in a whisper, as for a third time the
howl sounded.

"A dog barks, doesn't it? That doesn't sound like a dog, Bobby," said
Betty. "I heard one out West. I do believe it is one!"

"One what?" cried Bobby, almost shaking her in alarm and impatience.

"A wolf. It sounds just like a wolf. Oh, Bobby! suppose there should be a
pack of wolves in these hills and that they should attack this train?"

"Wolves!" shrieked Bobby. "_Wolves_! Then me for in-doors! I am not going
to stay here and be eaten up by wolves."

As she turned to dive into the tunnel there