could no longer hear the wind roaring, so I burrowed out;
which was no small job, either, since I had to dig through a wall of
snow, packed solid as a cheese.

But when Kaiser and I burst out, like whales, I guess, coming up to
breathe, we found it clear and calm, with the sun just peeping up
above a coteau and the frost dancing in the air. And we were not five
rods from the railroad, though in that blizzard we could no more see
it than we could Jericho. It took half an hour to dig out the sled and
get started, with Kaiser barking, and his breath like a puff of a
locomotive at every bark, it was so cold. I put on the skees now
(which I had had tied on the sled) and off we went over the drifts,
now packed hard, at a good rate.

It was no more than ten o'clock when I saw a white cloud of smoke far
ahead and knew we were coming to the siding; and Kaiser saw it too, I
think, and we both started to run and couldn't help it. And half a
mile farther we saw a man coming slowly; and who was it but dear old
Tom Carr!

I think I never was so glad to see anybody in my life. The poor fellow
was so weak that he could hardly stand, but he was making a start for
Track's End.

"Jud," he said, "we started out Wednesday, with a dozen passengers, as
many shovelers, and three days' food. We got to No. 15 Saturday. Then
the storm came and the food was about all gone. Yesterday the storm
kept up and the men could have done nothing even if they had had food.
This morning they are at it, but they are so weak that they can't do
much, but with what you've got on your sled we'll get through."

He went back with me, and there were Burrdock and Sours and Allenham
and some others, all shoveling at the cut with the men; and in the car
was Mr. Clerkinwell, now recovered from his sickness, but weak from
the lack of food. I won't try to tell how glad they were to see me;
but I was gladder to see them. I felt that I was out of the prison of
Track's End at last; and so many times I had thought I never should
get out alive!

"And why didn't you die a thousand times from loneliness," cried Mr.
Clerkinwell, after he had talked a few minutes, "if from no other
cause?"

"Oh," I answered, "I had some company, you know; then there were
callers, too, once in a while." Then I said to him that "I wrote every
Sunday to my mother," at the which he patted me on the head, just as
if I weren't taller than he!

The men all came in and we got up a sort of a mea