After this there was a long pause, and then it began to click something else, very slowly, dot, dash, dash, dot, and so forth, with a long stop between each. I picked up a pencil and marked it down, slowly, just as it came. Every two or three clicks there was a very long pause, and I would put down a monstrous big mark, thinking it might be the end of a letter; and when it stopped this is what I had, just as I wrote it down (I have the paper to this day), though it might as well have been Greek for all I knew of its meaning: [Transcriber's Note: an image of a series of handwritten dots, dashes, vertical marks, and other marks appears here in the text.] After a minute or two it began again, but I soon saw that I was getting the same thing. I leaned back in the chair and wished that I could read it. Then I sat up with sudden new interest, wondering if I could not find a copy of the Morse code somewhere and translate the message. It didn't seem likely that Tom would have one, as he was an old operator; but I began rummaging among his books and papers just the same. I had not gone far when I turned up an envelope directed to him on which was some printing saying that it contained a pamphlet about books for telegraphers. I opened it, and on the first page, as a sort of trade-mark, was what I wanted. In ten minutes I had my message translated. It read: "Starving. Siding fifteen. Carr." CHAPTER XXII The last Chapter, but a good Deal in it: a free Lodging for the Night, with a little Speech by Mr. Clerkinwell: then, how Kaiser and I take a long Journey, and how we never go that Way again. When I knew what the message said I saw that a train must have got to No. 15, and I jumped up and started for the door; then I ran back again and slowly spelled out O. K. on the instrument, and without waiting to see what came in reply hurried over to the hotel as fast as I could go. It was now eleven o'clock, and though the storm was as furious as ever I was determined to set out and try to reach the siding. If it had been before the thaw, with all of the winter snow on the ground, I never should have thought of doing it, but most of the old drifts were either gone or frozen so hard that they could be walked over without the least fear of breaking down; and as for the new drifts they were soft and not yet deep. I first thought of taking the horses and large sleigh and of keeping on the railroad track, but I remembered that there were a good many culverts and little bridges which I could not cross that way, and I knew to leave the track would mean to be lost instantly. So I saw that the best I could do was to take Kaiser and the small sled.