ing worse. Doesn't look much like baseball; does it, Joe?"

"I should say not! Say, I believe I'll go down to the station, anyhow,
and see what the prospects are. Want to come, Sis?"

"No, thank you. Not in this storm. Where are the Varleys going to stop?"

"At the hotel. Reggie has some business in town, Mabel writes. Well, I
sure will be glad to see him again!"

"_Him_? _Her_, you mean!" laughed Clara. "Oh, Joe, you _are_ so simple!"

"Humph!" he exclaimed, as he put the two letters into his pocket--both
of great importance to him. "Well, I'll go down to the station."

Joe was soon trudging through the storm on the way to the depot.

"The St. Louis 'Cardinals'!" he mused, as he bent his head to the blast,
thinking of the letters in his pocket. "I didn't think I'd be in line
for a major league team so soon. I wonder if I can make good?"

Thinking alternately of the pleasure he would have in seeing Miss Mabel
Varley, a girl in whom he was more than ordinarily interested, and of
the new chance that had come to him, Joe soon reached the depot. His
inquiries about the trains were not, however, very satisfactorily
answered.

"We can't tell much about them in this storm," the station master said.
"All our trains are more or less late. Stop in this afternoon, and I may
have some definite information for you."

And later that day, when it was nearly arrival time for the train on
which Mabel and Reggie were to come, Joe received some news that
startled him.

"There's no use in your waiting, Joe," said the station master, as the
young ball player approached him again. "Your train won't be in to-day,
and maybe not for several days."

"Why? What's the matter--a wreck?" cried Joe, a vision of injured
friends looming before him.

"Not exactly a wreck, but almost as bad," went on the official. "The
train is stalled--snowed in at Deep Rock Cut, five miles above here, and
there's no chance of getting her out."

"Great Scott!" cried Joe. "The express snowed in! Why, I've got friends
on that train! I wonder what I can do to help them?"

CHAPTER II

TO THE RESCUE

Joe Matson looked so worried at the information imparted by the station
master that the latter asked him:

"Any particular friends of yours on that train?"

"Very particular," declared the young ball player. "And I hope no harm
comes to them."

"Well, I don't know as any great harm will come," went on the station
master. "The train's snowed in, a