n her father come to
her with all the shock of suddenness?

Eaton had been about to leave the car, where he now was plainly of no
use, but these doubts checked him.

"Miss Santoine is in the observation car," Avery said. "I'll get her."

The tone was in some way false--Eaton could not tell exactly how.
Avery started down the aisle.

"One moment, please, Mr. Avery!" said the conductor. "I'll ask you not
to tell Miss Santoine before any other passengers that there has been
an attack upon her father. Wait until you get her inside the door of
this car."

"You yourself said nothing, then, that can have made her suspect it?"
Eaton asked.

Connery shook his head; the conductor, in doubt and anxiety over
exactly what action the situation called for,--unable, too, to
communicate any hint of it to his superiors to the West because of the
wires being down,--clearly had resolved to keep the attack upon
Santoine secret for the time. "I said nothing definite even to the
trainmen," he replied; "and I want you gentlemen to promise me before
you leave this car that you will say nothing until I give you leave."

His eyes shifted from the face of one to another, until he had assured
himself that all agreed. As Avery left the car, Eaton found a seat in
one of the end sections near the drawing-room. Sinclair and the
conductor had returned to Santoine. The porter was unmaking the berth
in the next section which Santoine had occupied, having been told to do
so by Connery; the negro bundled together the linen and carried it to
the cupboard at the further end of the car; he folded the blankets and
put them in the upper berth; he took out the partitions and laid them
on top of the blankets. Eaton stared out the window at the bank of
snow. He did not know whether to ask to leave the car, or whether he
ought to remain; and he would have gone except for recollection of
Harriet Santoine. He had heard the rear door of the car open and close
some moments before, so he knew that she must be in the car and that,
in the passage at that end, Avery must be telling her about her father.
Then the curtain at the end of the car was pushed further aside, and
Harriet Santoine came in.

She was very pale, but quite controlled, as Eaton knew she would be.
She looked at Eaton, but did not speak as she passed; she went directly
to the door of the drawing-room, opened it and went in, followed by
Avery. The door closed, and for a moment Eaton coul