ing the railway company and the conductor; and Passepartout, who was furious, was not disinclined to make common cause with him. Here was an obstacle, indeed, which all his master's bank-notes could not remove.

There was a general disappointment among the passengers, who, without reckoning the delay, saw themselves compelled to trudge fifteen miles over a plain covered with snow. They grumbled and protested, and would certainly have thus attracted Phileas Fogg's attention if he had not been completely absorbed in his game.

Passepartout found that he could not avoid telling his master what had occurred, and, with hanging head he was turning towards the car, when the engineer - a true Yankee, named Forster - called out, `Gentlemen, perhaps there is a way, after all, to get over.'

`On the bridge?' asked a passenger.

`On the bridge.'

`With our train?'

`With our train.'

Passepartout stopped short, and eagerly listened to the engineer.

`But the bridge is unsafe,' urged the conductor.

`No matter,' replied Forster; `I think that by putting on the very highest speed we might have a chance of getting over.'

`The devil!' muttered Passepartout.

But a number of the passengers were at once attracted by the engineer's proposal, and Colonel Proctor was especially delighted, and found the plan a very feasible one. He told stories about engineers leaping their trains over rivers without bridges, by putting on full steam; and many of those present avowed.themselves of the engineer's mind.

`We have fifty chances out of a hundred of getting over,' said one.

`Eighty! Ninety!'

Passepartout was astounded, and, though ready to attempt anything to get over Medicine Creek, thought the experiment proposed a little too American. `Besides,' thought he, `there's a still more simple way, and it does not even occur to any of these people! Sir,' said he aloud to one of the passengers, `the engineer's plan seems to me a little dangerous, but--'

`Eighty chances!' replied the passenger, turning his back on him.

`I know it,' said Passepartout, turning to another passenger, `but a simple idea--'

`Ideas are no use,' returned the American, shrugging his shoulders, `as the engineer assures us that we can pass.'

`Doubtless,' urged Passepartout, `we can pass, but perhaps it would be more prudent--'

`What! Prudent!' cried Colonel Proctor, whom this word seemed to excite prodigiously. `At full speed, don't you see, at full speed!'

`I know - I see,' repeated Passepartout; `but it would be, if not more prudent, since that word displeases you, at least more natural--'

`Who! What! What's the matter with this fellow?' cried several.

The poor fellow did not know to whom to address himself.

`Are you afraid?' asked Colonel Proctor.

`I afraid! Very well; I will show these people that a Frenchman can be as American as they!'

`All aboard!' cried the conductor.

`Yes, all aboard!' repeated Passepartout, and immediately. `But they can't prevent me from thinking that it would be more natural for us to cross the bridge on foot, and let the train come after!'

But no one heard this sage reflection, nor would anyone have acknowledged its justice. The passengers resumed their places in the cars. Passepartout took his seat without telling what had passed. The whis

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