Before I had corrected my first galley my ear caught the sound of stamping feet outside. Some early train-hand, perhaps, or porter, or some passenger who had misread the schedule; for nothing up or down was to pass the station except, perhaps, a belated freight. Then the door was burst open, and a voice as crisp as the gust of wind that ushered it in called out: "Well, begorra! ye look as snug as a bug in a rug. What d'ye think of this for a night?" He was approaching the fire now, shaking the snow from his uniform and beating his hands together as he walked. I have a language adapted to policemen and their kind, and I invariably use it when occasion offers. Strange to say, my delight at being alone had now lost its edge. "Corker, isn't it?" I answered. "Draw up a chair and make yourself comfortable." "Well, I don't care if I do. By Jiminy! I thought the ears of me would freeze as I come acrost the yard. What are ye waitin' for--the 3.30?" "I am. Here, take a nip of this," and I handed him the other goblet and pushed the P. S. his way. Corrupting the Force, I know, but then consider the temptation, and the fact that I was stranded on a lone isle of the sea, or adrift on a detached ice floe (that's a better simile), and he the only other human being within reach. He raised the flask to his eye, noted the flow line, poured out three fingers, added one finger of water, said "How!" and emptied the mixture into his person. Then I handed him a cigar, laid aside my proofs and began to talk. I not only had a fire and a pile of wood, with something to smoke and enough P. S. for two, but I had a friend to enjoy them with me. Marvellous place--this Battle Creek! "Anything doing?" I asked after the storm and the night had been discussed and my lighted match had kindled his cigar. "Only a couple o' drunks lyin' outside a j'int," he answered, stretching his full length in the chair. "Did you run 'em in?" "No, the station was some ways, so I tuk 'em inside. I know the feller that runs the j'int an' the back dure was open--" and he winked at me. "They'd froze if I'd left 'em in the drift. Wan had the ears of him purty blue as it wuz." "Anything else?" "Well, there was a woman hollerin' bloody murther back o' the lumber yard, but I didn't stop to luk her up. They're allus raisin' a muss up there--it was in thim tiniments. Ye know the place." (He evidently took me for a resident or a rounder.) "Guess I'll be joggin' 'long" (here he rose to his feet), "my beat's both sides of the depot an' I daren't stop long. Good luck to ye." "Will you drop in again?" "Yes, maybe I will," and he opened the door and stepped out, his hand on his cap as the wind struck it. Half an hour passed. Then the cough of a distant locomotive, catching its breath in the teeth of the gale, followed by the rumbling of a heavily loaded train, growing louder as it approached, could be heard above the wail of the storm.