A few hours later Roger awakened.

His lower berth was still pitch dark.

The train had stopped, and he had been roused by a voice outside his window.
Rough and slow and nasal, the leisurely drawl of a mountaineer, it came like balm to Roger's ears.

He raised the curtain and looked out.

A train hand with a lantern was listening to a dairy man, a tall young giant in top boots.