Life and death hung upon his arriving, and he must press on as cautiously as possible.

It seemed hours that he was creeping down that mountain, watching the gauge anxiously to see if he was going to have gas enough to get to the next service station, but at last he came to the foot and recognized under its burden of snow the old tumbled-down shanty that marked the crossing where he was to turn. He drew a breath of relief, glanced at the clock on his dashboard and plunged into the new road. The next filling station was four or five miles from this turn, the old man had said. Could he make it on so little gas? There was nothing to do but go on as long as it lasted.

At last he recognized a pump ahead and a village street with houses.

It was half past two when he left the brief shelter of that filling station, and still with no chains, wallowed on.

It was half past three when at last he reached the village of Collamer to which he had been told to come to get directions for the house on the mountainside where the medicine was needed.

Chains? Yes, they had chains here. They had oil and water and gasoline and air and advice. They advised him by no means to attempt to climb that mountain today. They told him of a drift between the village and the regular mountain road that made it impassable. They said the only possible way was to go on twenty miles and return by another road that took the back way up to the mountain home which was his destination. Of course even that road might be closed by now! They wouldn’t go if they were in his place.

Alan shut his lips grimly and said it was a matter of life and death and he was going. So they put on his chains for him and shook their heads after him before they turned to succor the next floundering car.

It was more than a mile out of sight of the village that the engine suddenly coughed and sent out a series of weird rappings, clack, clack, clack! An alarming sound in the white stillness, with that garage so far away and the snow in many places now almost two feet deep. How on earth had so much snow fallen in so short a day?

In dismay Alan drove on, but the clacking grew louder and more insistent, and suddenly with a great pounding sound that seemed to echo Alan’s groan, the car stopped short with an awful shudder like something that had suddenly died, and slumped in its tracks.

Alan looked around him. A perfect mountain of snow rose on both sides and ahead of him. The steady, persistent fall of the snow was slantwise now, in little fine even lines, impenetrable as if they were opaque. Now and again a gust of wild wind would snap at the snow, and toss it hither and yon, clearing a space here and there for a second, and flinging blinding whiteness in great eddies.

With a sinking heart he looked around him, wondering if he would have to go on foot all the way back to that garage to get help. He was no mechanic, and if he had been, no one could work on a car in that blinding storm and cold. It would have to be towed back to the garage for repairs probably. If there were only some place he could go to telephone for a man to come and get him! He must get on with that medicine. It was quarter to four now, and at six the medicine would be needed. Death would be waiting to snatch its victim, the woman whom he had pledged his honor to save!

He opened the car door and stepped out into the depth of snow, trying to peer around. There was a house on his left. He could make out the outline of a long low roof capped deeply with snow, an old farmhouse. Lights! There were lights in the house. Colored lights! A Christmas tree! His heart leaped up with joy. People who had a lighted Christmas tree might have a telephone. But first perhaps he would look at his engine and get a general idea of what might be the mater.

He wallowed forward and lifted the hood, peering helplessly down as the snow gleefully hurried inside, but his inexperienced eyes could not tell what might have happened. Neither his expensive education nor his inherited legal mind could help him in this predicament. He closed the hood quickly and turned toward the house. He was suddenly aware that his shoes were wet, and the snow was inside them, making quick work with his ankles and feet, and that the wind was icy and biting. His hands were already numb with cold, for he had foolishly taken off his gloves when he looked at the engine. How quickly cold could get in its work, even through an imported overcoat! How cruelly the snow stung his face and tangled in his lashes so he could not see.

But the house was there, and he was headed toward it.