‘Are those—dogs?’ he called weakly.

‘My cousin Karl’s dogs, yes,’ she answered; ‘that is his inn, over beyond the trees. I knew it was there, but I did not want to take you there; he is always grasping with strangers. However, it grows too cold to remain in the train. Ah, ah, see what comes!’

A whistle sounded, and a relief engine made its appearance, snorting its way sulkily through the Snow. Abbleway did not have the opportunity for finding out whether Karl was really avaricious.