24 WINTER 



- if that it was, that sped him up the track. In 

 his imagination he saw the wreck of a ditched train 

 below him; the moans of a hundred mangled beings 

 he heard sounding in his ears ! 



On into the teeth of the blinding storm he raced, 

 while he strained his eyes for a glimpse of the com- 

 ing train. 



The track seemed to lie straightaway in front of 

 him, and he bent his head for a moment before the 

 wind, when, out of the smother of the snow, the 

 flaring headlight leaped almost upon him. 



He sprang aside, stumbled, and pitched headlong 

 down the bank, as the engine of a freight, with a 

 roar that dazed him, swept past. 



But the engineer had seen him, and there was a 

 screaming of iron brakes, a crashing of cars together, 

 and a long-drawn shrieking of wheels, as the heavy 

 train slid along the slippery rails to a stop. 



As the engineer swung down from his cab, he was 

 met, to his great astonishment, by a dozen turkeys 

 clambering up the embankment toward him. He had 

 plowed his way well among the roosting flock and 

 brushed them unhurt from the rails as the engine 

 skidded along to its slow stop. 



By this time the conductor and the train-hands 

 had run forward to see what it all meant, and stood 

 looking at the strange obstruction on the track, when 

 Herbert came into the glare of the headlight and 

 joined them. Then George came panting up, and 



