"They're talking about you back there in the coaches, Fairbanks," reported the conductor a little later. "They know about your arrangements for their comfort, and they're chatting and laughing, and taking it all in like a regular picnic." "I suppose you've been giving me undue credit, you modest old hero!" laughed Ralph. "Hello!" suddenly exclaimed Fogg; "now, what is that?" All hands stared far to the west. A dim red flame lit the sky. Then it appeared in a new spot, still far away. This was duplicated until there were vague red pencils of light piercing the sky from various points of the compass. "It's queer," commented the conductor. "Something's in action, but what, and how?" "There!" exclaimed Fogg, as suddenly seemingly just beyond the heavy drift immediately in front of the train the same glare was seen. "Yes, and here, too!" shouted out the conductor, jumping back. Almost at his feet something dropped from midair like a rocket, a bomb. It instantly burst out in a vivid red flame. Ralph investigated, and while thus engaged two more of the colored messengers, projectiles, fireworks, whatever they were, rained down, one about half-way down the train, the other beyond it. The young engineer was puzzled at first, but he soon made out all that theory and logic could suggest. There was no doubt but that some one at a distance had fired the queer little spheres, which were made of the same material as the regular train fuse, only these burned twice as long as those used as railroad signals, or fully twenty minutes. "I make it out," explained Ralph to the conductor, "that somebody with a new-fangled device like a Roman candle is sending out these bombs as signals." "Then we're not alone in our misery," remarked Fogg. "First they went west, then they came this way," continued Ralph. "I should say that it looks as if the signal is on a train stalled like us about a mile away. I'll soon know." Ralph got into the cab. In a minute or two No. 999 began a series of challenge whistles that echoed far and wide. "Hark!" ordered Fogg, as they waited for a reply. "A mere peep," reported the conductor, as a faint whistle reached their strained hearing above the noise of the tempest. "Yes," nodded Fogg, "I figure it out. There's a train somewhere near with the locomotive nigh dead." "If it should be the east freight stalled," suggested Ralph to the conductor, "you needn't worry about those hungry children in the coaches, and that baby you told about wanting milk." "No, the east freight is a regular provision train," put in the fireman. "If we could reach her, we'd have our pick of eatables." It was two hours later, and things had quieted down about the snowed-in train, when a series of shouts greeted Ralph, Fogg and the conductor, seated on a broken log around the fire at the side of the tracks. "What's this new windfall!" exclaimed Fogg. "More signals," echoed the conductor, staring vaguely.