rs. When the snow finally ceased
falling the cold increased until Neale guessed the temperature might be
forty degrees below zero. The trapper claimed sixty. It was necessary to
stay indoors till the weather moderated.

On the fifth morning Slingerland was persuaded to attempt the trip to
aid Service. Larry wanted to accompany them, but Slingerland said he
had better stay with Allie. So, muffled up, the two men set out on
snow-shoes, dragging a sled. A crust had frozen on the snow, otherwise
traveling would have been impossible. Once up on the slope the north
wind hit them square in the face. Heavily clad as he was, Neale thought
the very marrow in his bones would freeze. That wind blew straight
through him. There were places where it took both men to hold the sled
to keep it from getting away. They were blown back one step for every
two steps they made. On the exposed heights they could not walk upright.
At last, after hours of desperate effort, they got over the ridge to a
sheltered side along which they labored up to Service's dugout.

Up there the snow had blown away in places, leaving bare spots, bleak,
icy, barren, stark. No smoke appeared to rise above the dugout. The rude
habitation looked as though no man had been there that winter. Neale
glanced in swift dismay at Slingerland.

"Son, look fer the wust," he said. "An' we hain't got time to waste."

They pushed open the canvas framework of a door and, stooping low,
passed inside. Neale's glance saw first the fireplace, where no fire
had burned for days. Snow had sifted into the dugout and lay in little
drifts everywhere. The blankets on the bunk covered Service, hiding his
face. Both men knew before they uncovered him what his fate had been.

"Frozen to death!" gasped Neale.

Service lay white, rigid, like stone, with no sign of suffering upon his
face.

"He jest went to sleep--an' never woke up," declared Slingerland.

"Thank God for that!" exclaimed Neale. "Oh, why did I not stay with
him?"

"Too late, son. An' many a good man will go to his death before thet
damn railroad is done."

Neale searched for Service's notes and letters and valuables which could
be turned over to the engineering staff.

Slingerland found a pick and shovel, which Neale remembered to have used
in building the dugout; and with these the two men toiled at the frozen
sand and gravel to open up a grave; It was like digging in stone.
At length they succeeded. Then, rolling Serv