Walter said he would get four more dogs and would drive
the ill-assorted team. By that time it was midnight.

"We'll start at 4:30," said the Doctor. At 4:30 it would still be
pitch-black.

Grenfell went back to the hospital, roused the head nurse, and went to
every patient to make sure that while he was gone no accident would
happen that he could possibly prevent.

At 4:30 he was ready to start. Few men are his match for staying up
all night and looking as fresh as a mountain daisy after the vigil.

He opened the door and a blizzard swept in and tried to rush him off
his feet. Through the whirling drift staggered Walter, dogless.

"Where are those dogs?" asked the Doctor. He expects men to keep
agreements made with him. He couldn't get through the length and
breadth of his big day's work if they didn't.

Walter shook his snow-covered head. "I ain't brought 'em, sir. It's
too bad a night to be startin' before sun-up. The dogs don't know each
other: they comes from here, there an' all over. They'll be fightin'
in the traces an' eatin' each other up in the dark. Us must be able to
see 'em in order to drive 'em. You know what dogs is like, sir."

"Yes, I do," said Grenfell. "But you're the driver, and I leave it to
you. We must get off as soon as we can."

Dr. Grenfell went to his room to snatch a catnap before the start.
Another telegram woke him as he was drowsing off.

"Come along soon. Wife worse."

The storm instead of going down was more violent than ever when the
grey day came. The sun was not seen at all. On the contrary, the air
was filled with a mad whirl of pelting, stinging flakes almost as hard
as Indian arrow-heads. The dogs would be no good in the teeth of such
a storm--for the team-mates who work with a will are those that are
best acquainted, and with an unknown driver this team suddenly thrown
together would have pulled as many different ways as there were fierce
and headstrong dogs. They would be at each other's throats before they
were out of sight of the houses.

As he waited, walking restlessly up and down, in his brown sweater and
thick leggins, Grenfell was plagued with the picture of the woman
fighting for her life till help should come from the one man who could
give it.

Still another of those telegrams! This time the message read: "Come
immediately if you can. Wife still holding out."

Just as he read the words, there were voices, and battering hands at
the door.

Two men, whi