THE following morning the three inhabitants of Meadow Creek Valley began work again in the tunnel. The air was filled with a smother of snow which fell unaccompanied by wind. When, the following day, the sky cleared, over the path of the avalanche and over the ruins of Soapweed Ledge lay a concealing blanket of snow three feet deep. "Whew!" shivered Ross as he led the goggled Weimer over the snow to the tunnel that morning. "Wish we had a thermometer up here. This is some cold. Must be minus zero by a long way." "Mine nose ist my thermometer," complained Weimer, rubbing that whitening member. "Aber dis weather it holds nicht. Anoder snow falls in dree, four days." The third day proved the truth of this prophecy. The atmosphere became many degrees warmer and the sky lowering. "More snow," sighed Leslie, looking over the silent, white sheeted valley with homesick eyes. "Und den more," added Weimer complacently. "More und more till June." That noon it chanced that Weimer, being afflicted with a headache, left the tunnel early. A little later, Ross, pushing the little car out to the dump, called back to Leslie at work with the drill: "Guess I'll go down and rustle the grub for Uncle Jake. That headache of his is genuine." "All right," assented Leslie, "I'll be down in half an hour or so. I want to put this shot before I go." Ross found Weimer in a state of great excitement, the headache forgotten. He stood at the door of the shack, peering up toward the tunnel, both hands shielding his blinking eyes. "Who vas dot man?" he demanded in a high, eager voice. "What man, Uncle Jake?" Ross stopped short, staring at Weimer as though he were bereft of his senses. "I see him!" declared Weimer. "He vas shust startin' up dot trail py de tunnel. I see his pack. He vore ein pag on it. He vore ein cap mit goggles. I see him." Ross looked up the mountainside incredulously. "Why, Uncle Jake, I just left the tunnel and there was no one there but Leslie. I guess," jocosely, "your headache has made you 'see things at night,' hasn't it? No one can get into the valley now, you know." Excitedly protesting and expostulating, half in English and half in German, Uncle Jake retreated inside the door, and taking up his position beside one of the little windows watched the trail to the tunnel while Ross, smiling at his partner's hallucination, built up the fire, cheerfully banging the covers of the stove as he filled the fire-box with dry pine sticks. In the midst of this racket there entered the sound of crunching footsteps on the side opposite the shack from that occupied by Weimer. "Hein!" yelled the latter springing up. "Was sagen sie? It ist somepody!" A rap thundered on the door, and it was thrust open at the same time unceremoniously, while a low, gruff voice inquired abruptly: "Is there a young doctor here?"