24 THE SILVER FOX 



height could look down the tawny slants 

 upon their fallen comrades. 



Standing below, the jaws of the ugly cleft 

 let in the winter sunset and the twin glitter 

 of the rails, while above, the fir-trees strove 

 against the evening wind. It was worth 

 remaining still to look at, in spite of the 

 cold, and Mr. Wilfrid Glasgow, with two 

 long account-books under his arm, and the 

 peak of his cap over his eyes, stood for at 

 least a minute surveying alternately his own 

 handiwork and that of his Creator. He felt 

 a proper admiration for both ; impartially 

 he perhaps thought that his own was more 

 deserving of credit. At length, turning his 

 back upon the sunset, he walked along the 

 line to where a road crossed it. As he 

 climbed some bars and swung himself down 

 into the road it could be seen that he was 

 active, with the skilled and wary activity of 

 forty. He was tall and slight ; when his 

 hat was on, his fair thin moustache and 

 light figure made short-sighted people place 

 him in the early thirties. 



