ll to the west.
Do not be in the least alarmed."

"We can only hope and wait," she softly said.

We heartily thanked Peterson and watched him as he disappeared in the
darkness, tramping stolidly in the face of a driving rain.

Despite the rain it was warm and we sat on a bench under the broad roof
of the platform. I did my best to take her mind away from the dread
which possessed her, but it was a wretched hour for both of us. Then we
saw the flicker of lights down the track, and toward us came a small
army of labourers who had been clearing the roadbed between us and
Woodvale.

They stopped a minute in front of the station. These hardy Italians
stood in the drenching rain, axes in their hands or over their
shoulders, their clothes smeared with mud, water running in streams from
the rims of their broad hats; there they stood and laughed, chattered,
jested and indulged in rough play while their foreman received his
instructions from the telegraph operator. And then with a cheer and a
song they started on their way to Oak Cliff. Happiness and contentment
are gifts; they cannot be purchased.

Something to the south burned a widening circle in the mist and rain,
and from its centre we made out the headlight of a locomotive. It was a
passenger train, and as it crawled cautiously to the platform two men
leaped from it and came toward us.

I recognised Carter and Chilvers.

They had heard of the tornado and had constituted themselves a searching
party.

"Naturally your mother is alarmed," said Carter "but I assured her that
it was nothing more serious than delayed trains. She knows nothing of
the tornado."

We were informed that the up train would be held on a sidetrack until
the one from Oak Cliff got through. There was nothing to do but wait. It
was past midnight when we heard the blast of a whistle to the north, and
when the train from Oak Cliff pulled in Mr. Harding was the first one to
swing to the station platform.

"Well, well, well!" he exclaimed, releasing his daughter's arms from his
neck, holding her at arm's length and then kissing her again. "Is this
the way you call for me at four o'clock? Where's Smith? Hello, Smith!
Where's the red buzz wagon?"

"Over there," I said.

And then we all talked at once. Chilvers danced a clog-step to the
delight of the grinning trainmen, Carter removed his monocle and
polished it innumerable times, Miss Harding laughed and cried by turns,
Mr. Harding dug cigars fro