Lord knows where that freight is--I can't get any word from it." "But--" "Gone out again!" The telegrapher hammered disgustedly on the key.
"The darned line grounds on me about every five minutes.

I--" "Do you hear anything from Crestline--about conditions up there ?" "Bad.

It's even drifting in the snowsheds.

They've got two plows working in 'em keeping 'em open, and another down at Crystal Lake.

If things let up, they're all right.