spair.

And then she quit.

"What's the matter now?" a passenger asked the conductor, in a coach
far in the rear.

"Looks to me as if we'd have to uncouple and run on to the next siding
with half the train," the conductor replied. "But it _may_ be the
fire-box."

"What's the matter with the fire-box?"

"She has a habit of droppin' out," said the conductor.

"We'll be a day late in St. John's," the passenger grumbled.

The conductor laughed. "You will," said he, "if the trouble is with
the fire-box."

* * * * *

While the mixed accommodation was panting on the long grade, Tom
Topsail's punt, Burnt Bay bound, was splashing through a choppy sea,
humoured along by a clever hand and a heart that understood her whims.
It was blowing smartly; but the wind was none too much for the tiny
craft, and she was making the best of it. At this rate--with neither
change nor failure of the wind--Tom Topsail would land Archie
Armstrong in Burnt Bay long before the accommodation had begun to
think of achieving that point in her journey across the island. There
was no failure of the wind as the night spent itself; it blew true and
fair until the rosy dawn came softly out of the east. The boy awoke
from a long doze to find the punt overhauling the first barren islands
of the long estuary at the head of which the Burnt Bay settlement is
situated.

With the most favourable weather there was a day's sailing and more
yet to be done.

"How's the weather?" was Archie's first question.

"Broodin'," Tom Topsail drawled.

Archie could find no menace in the dawn.

"Jus' broodin'," Topsail repeated.

Towards night it seemed that a change and a gale of wind might be
hatched by the brooding day. The wind fluttered to the east and blew
up a thickening fog.

"We've time an' t' spare," said Topsail, in the soggy dusk. "Leave us
go ashore an' rest."

They landed, presently, on a promising island, and made a roaring
fire. The hot tea and the lobster and the hard-bread--and the tales
of Topsail--and the glow and warmth of the fire--were grateful to
Archie. He fell sound asleep, at last, with his greatcoat over him;
and Tom Topsail was soon snoring, too. In the meantime the mixed
accommodation, back in the wilderness, had surmounted the grade, had
dropped three heavy cars at a way station, and was rattling on her way
towards Burnt Bay with an energy and determination that surprised her
weary pas