ez a
tick, ez ushel," he commented commiseratingly.

Just then a distant whistle sounded, and there was a shuffling of feet on
the platform. A number of lanky boys, of all ages, appeared as, suddenly
and slimily as eels wakened by the crack of thunder; some came from the
waiting-room, where they had been warming themselves by the red stove, or
half asleep on the slat benches; others uncoiled themselves from baggage
trucks or slid out of express wagons. Two clambered down from the
driver's seat of a hearse that stood backed up against the siding. They
straightened their stooping shoulders and lifted their heads, and a flash
of momentary animation kindled their dull eyes at that cold, vibrant
scream, the worldwide call for men. It stirred them like the note of a
trumpet; just as it had often stirred the man who was coming home
tonight, in his boyhood.

The night express shot, red as a rocket, from out the eastward marsh
lands and wound along the river shore under the long lines of shivering
poplars that sentinelled the meadows, the escaping steam hanging in grey
masses against the pale sky and blotting out the Milky Way. In a moment
the red glare from the headlight streamed up the snow-covered track
before the siding and glittered on the wet, black rails. The burly man
with the dishevelled red beard walked swiftly up the platform toward the
approaching train, uncovering his head as he went. The group of men
behind him hesitated, glanced questioningly at one another, and awkwardly
followed his example. The train stopped, and the crowd shuffled up to
the express car just as the door was thrown open, the man in the G.A.R.
suit thrusting his head forward with curiosity. The express messenger
appeared in the doorway, accompanied by a young man in a long ulster and
travelling cap.

"Are Mr. Merrick's friends here?" inquired the young man.

The group on the platform swayed uneasily. Philip Phelps, the banker,
responded with dignity: "We have come to take charge of the body. Mr.
Merrick's father is very feeble and can't be about."

"Send the agent out here," growled the express messenger, "and tell the
operator to lend a hand."

The coffin was got out of its rough-box and down on the snowy platform.
The townspeople drew back enough to make room for it and then formed a
close semicircle about it, looking curiously at the palm leaf which lay
across the black cover. No one said anything. The baggage man stood by
his truck, wa