to Stanley Junction. The foreman was busy in his office at the telephone, receiving continual instructions from the dispatcher. He was sending men and messengers in every direction. The exigencies of the hour required blockade and wrecking crews. The foreman looked bothered and worried, and nodded to Ralph and Fogg in a serious way as there was a lull at the 'phone.
"No run to-night, boys," he announced. "You'd better get back to your warm beds."
"Blockade on the Mountain Division?" inquired the fireman.
"Worse than that. The whole division is annulled this side of Fordham, and that's over half the run. Two bridges down, a freight wreck at Wayne, and the mountain cuts are choked with drifts. I doubt if you will break through for a couple of nights."
"H'm," observed Fogg. "I fancied to-day's storm would shut up things."
"It has. We're half clear south, but west and north there isn't a wheel moving within fifty miles."
"We may as well make the best of it then, Fairbanks," said the fireman, "and get back to our boarding house."
The speaker started for the door and Ralph followed him. Just then with a sudden roar of
