'Now we're more than halfway only two miles away from the tavern, ' said the driver. 'I'm glad of that!' answered the stranger, in a sympathetic mood. He wanted to say more but the east wind blew clear down a man's throat if he tried to speak. The girl's voice was something quite charming, however, and at present he spoke again. 'You don't feel the cold so much at 20 below zero out in the Western Country. There's none of this damp chill, ' he said, and then it seemed as though he had blamed the uncomplaining young driver. She had not even said that it was an awful day, and he began to be conscious of a warm hopefulness of spirit, and sense of pleasant adventure under ail the woollen shawls. 'You'll have a cold drive going back, ' he said in earnest, and put up his hand for the thirtieth time to see if his coat-collar were as colse to the back of his neck as possible. He had wished a dozen times for the warm old hunting rig in which he had many a day confronted the worst of weather in the Northwest. 'I shall not have to go back!' exclaimed the girl, with eager pleasantness. 'I'm on my way home now. I drove over early just to meet you at the train. We had word that someone was coming to the tavern. ' How far was the drive from the train to the tavern?