But to-morrow the snow was drifted to the second-story windows, and no man dare venture forth. Not until the third day did the sun peep forth again with renewed warmth and splendor, melting the snow into sluggish rivulets, running down the mountainsides to the valleys below, and swelling all the streams till they overflowed their banks. On the fourth day the searching party went back to the scene of the accident. The shattered remnants of the hearse were found, and the horses, dead and crushed to pulp, on the cliffs above the river. Splinters of the heavy oaken casket were discovered also, and, when no trace of the corpse was found, it was agreed that it must have bounced from the cliffs in a terrible recoil down to the river’s depths. But strange to say, the two drivers had escaped death and contrived to exist under the cliffs. They had jumped from the box when the hearse toppled over, then they rolled down the mountain and through a fissure in its side, down under the cliffs, where it was warm and dry. CHAPTER VIII. A DEBT OF HONOR. The governor of West Virginia sat at his desk in the State House, with a bored and weary air. Although inaugurated barely nine months before, the cares of state seemed to rest heavily on his mind, for it was becoming worse than a Chinese puzzle to fill all the official places to the entire satisfaction of the people. He had just dashed off a letter making an appointment over which there had been a fierce political squabble, and he sighed as he thought how the battle would be fought over again by the opposing sides of the press as soon as his decision became known. At that moment Private Secretary Boggs came quietly into the room. “A caller, your excellency!” “Ah, Boggs, I was just thinking of going over to the mansion. His card?” “He had none, and he refused me his name.” “Rather curious.” “He said you would remember him as a young man to whom you had promised a favor.” The private secretary’s lips twitched with mirth that he coughed to hide, but Governor Atkinson frankly laughed outright. “He must be a wit,” he remarked dryly. “It sounds like it, yet I don’t think it was intentional, your excellency. He seemed to be in earnest.” “And yet his message makes him very difficult to identify. Have I not promised places to more men than I can remember?” groaned the governor. “A sight of the young man might refresh your memory,” suggested the secretary respectfully. “I will try the experiment. Send him in.” Boggs retired, smiling. A tall, slight young man, thin to emaciation, with a pallid, handsome, close-shaven face, lighted by hollow, dark-blue eyes, curling brown hair falling down upon his coat collar, well-dressed, well-mannered, entered the chamber. “Ah, my friend, I am glad to meet you,” began the affable governor. “But somehow your name has escaped my memory.” “Then my face does not suggest it, your excellency?” “I beg pardon. It looks familiar, but really I cannot place you.”