"I know it. So I am asking you to make it the railroad's business. I am warning you in advance. Where are the fuses?" The operator helplessly called up the superintendent once more. "What the dickens do you want now?" "It's that nut on the line," explained the operator. "He wants something else." "Yes, I want to know where the fuses are so I can flag the first train that comes. Or I will just set the tool house afire; that will stop them." "The fuses are in the lock box under the phone. Break the lock, or pick it. Let us know if you get in all right. How the dickens did you get a woman out there a night like this?" But Prince had no time to explain. "Thanks, old man, you're pretty white," he said, and clasped the receiver on to the hook. A little later, with the precious fuses in his pocket, he was fighting his way through the snow back to Connie, lying unconscious in the white blankets which no longer chilled her. The waiting seemed endlessly weary. Prince dared not sit down, but must needs keep staggering up and down the track, praying as he had never prayed in all his life, that God would send a train before Connie should freeze to death. Stooping over her, he chafed her hands and ankles, shaking her roughly, but never succeeding in restoring her to consciousness though doubtless he did much toward keeping the blood in feeble circulation. Then, thank God! No heavenly star ever shone half so gloriously bright as that wide sweep of light that circled around the ragged rocks. Prince hastily fired the fuse, and a few minutes later a lumbering freight train pulled up beside him, anxious voices calling inquiry. With rough but willing hands they pulled the girl on board, and piled heavy coats on a bench beside the fire where she might lie, and brought out some hot coffee which Prince swallowed in deep gulps. They even forced a few drops of it down Connie's throat. Prince was soon himself again, and sat silently beside Connie as she slept the heavy sleep. A long lumbering ride it was, the cars creaking and rocking, reeling from side to side as if they too were drunk with weariness and cold. At last Connie moved a little and lifted her lashes. She lay very still a while, looking with puzzled eyes at her strange surroundings, enjoying the huge fire, wondering at that curious rocking. Then, glancing at the big brown head beside her, where Prince sat on an overturned bucket with her hand in his, she closed her eyes again, still puzzled, but content. Long minutes afterward she spoke. "Are you cold, Prince?" He tightened his clasp on her hand. "No." "How did you ever make it?" "The train came along and we got on. Now we are thawing out," he explained, smiling reassurance. "I do not remember it. I only remember that I was stuck in the snow, and that you did not leave me." "Here comes some more coffee, lady," said the brakeman, coming up. Connie drank it gratefully and sat up. "Where are we going?" "To Fort Morgan."