Long watches and weary marches were nothing new to him, and furthermore, to-night there was especial reason why he was not unwilling to take a walk through the north end.

Headquarters had been kept fully informed of the progress of a wedding feast of more than ordinary hilarity in the foreign colony.

This was the second night, and on second nights the general joyousness of the festivities was more than likely to become unduly exuberant.

Indeed, the reports of the early evening had been somewhat disquieting, and hence, Sergeant Cameron was rather pleased than not that Officer Donnelly's beat lay in the direction of the foreign colony.
At length Number Two rolled in, a double header, one engine alive and one dead, but both swathed in snow and frozen steam from cowcatcher to tender, the first puffing its proud triumph over the opposing elements, the second silent, cold and lifeless like a warrior borne from the field of battle.
The passengers, weary and full of the mild excitement of their long struggle with storm and drift across half a continent, emerged from their snow-clad but very comfortable coaches and were eagerly taken in charge by waiting friends and watchful hotel runners.
Sergeant Cameron waited till the crowd had gone, and then turning to Murchuk, he said, "You will be coming along with me, Murchuk.
I am going to look after some of your friends." "My frients ?" enquired Murchuk.
"Yes, over at the colony yonder." "My frients!" repeated Murchuk with some indignation.

"Not motch!" Murchuk was proud of his official position as Dominion Government Interpreter.