Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11 THE NEXT MORNING SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 26 AROUND 9:00 A.M. BAILETS DINING ROOM WELLINGTON, WASHINGTON Clink clink clink. Mr. Riggins nervously tapped his fork on his plate. Janie, Frederick, Mr.

Riggins, Mr. McBride, and Miss Wade were at their usual table at Bailets, eating breakfast. "The same thing that happened in Cascade could happen here," Mr. Riggins said grimly. "You can see how the snow is piling up on the side of the mountain. It's all hanging over us. All it would take—" "Mr. Riggins, please," Miss Wade said sharply, cutting Mr. Riggins off and flicking her eyes toward Janie and Frederick. "Could a big avalanche happen here?" Frederick asked worriedly. The hairs on Janie's neck stood up. But Mr. McBride quickly calmed her fears. "We are perfectly safe," he said, without a shred of doubt. "Mr. Bailets told me that avalanches have always been a problem in Cascade. But not here in Wellington. The slope of the mountain is different. He says there has never been an avalanche here."

"And he should know," said Miss Wade, picking up her coffee mug. "He and his wife have lived here for twenty years—" "No!" Mr. Riggins said, suddenly standing up. He marched over to the window. "I've made up my mind. We should leave here. As soon as possible!" He turned back toward the table. "I've spoken to some of the workers. The town of Scenic is only about five miles from here. All we have to do is follow the tracks. We'll see a trail that leads down the mountain, straight into the town." Mr. McBride stared at him. "You're saying we should walk five miles across these mountains, in a blizzard? I'm sorry, my friend, but that's ridiculous." Angry red splotches appeared on Mr. Riggins's cheeks. "You're not thinking clearly," Mr. McBride went on. "This blizzard will be over soon. Mr. Pettit says—"

"Pettit has no idea what's happening!" Mr. Riggins snapped, pounding his fist on their table. A fork clattered to the floor. "Don't you see? We're like those passengers on the train that was stranded in 1907. We're on our own. If we want to get out of here, we're going to have to walk. Because if we don't get out of here soon…" "Mr. Riggins—" Miss Wade said. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning," he said. "With or without you all." And with a last huff of anger, he stormed away. "He'll never do it," Mr. McBride said, reaching down and picking up the dropped fork. But Mr. Riggins left early the next morning, taking three other men with him. All day, people worried about what could happen to them. "They could fall off a cliff!" "I hear there are packs of hungry wolves out there." "If they're buried in a slide, we won't find them until spring."

The mood on the train got gloomier and gloomier with each passing hour. And not only because people were worried about Mr. Riggins and the other men. Snow was piling up on the mountain. Food was running low at Bailets; dinner that night was greasy potatoes and bitter fried onions. Adding to the worries, the train was out of fresh water. Mr. Anderson was melting snow so they had water to drink. But there wasn't much for washing up. No wonder the train stunk so bad, like sweaty bodies and dirty diapers. Nobody ate much at breakfast Monday morning. Janie picked at her plate of greasy potatoes. Their little group was getting ready to head back to the train when four men stumbled in through the dining room door. They looked half-frozen, with beards caked with snow. Each carried a big shovel.

"That's our army of shovelers?" Miss Wade whispered, lifting her eyebrows. "Poor things." "We've come from Scenic," called out a tall man with a bright red nose. "Is Mr. Bailets here? We have a message, about some men from your train." Frederick looked at Janie with wide eyes. "It's about Mr. Riggins!" he said. The red-nosed man reached into his pocket and took out a piece of paper. He handed it to Mr. Bailets. Mrs. Letts's hands flew to her heart. "Oh dear," she gasped. The dining room fell silent, and all eyes were on Mr. Bailets as he unfolded the paper. Janie braced herself for terrible news.