d him trailed three comrades, two of
whom, at least, were tyros in the art of horsemanship. They were
hanging on for dear life as their steeds labored on after the leader.
The object of all four was obviously to get beyond easy rifle range of
the rushing train before drawing rein to reconnoitre, and now, probably
noting that the engine was driving on full speed, with no sign of
stopping, the tall horseman in the lead circled swiftly to his right,
along the crest of a low ridge perhaps three hundred yards away, then
peered from under his broad hatbrim at the supposed enemy.

And then it was that Graham and Toomey, both, sprang back to the
coal-pile in the tender, clambered high as possible on the shifting
slope, and, balancing as best they could, whipped off their caps, swung
them joyously about their heads, and eagerly gave the old-time,
well-known cavalry signal, "Forward!" "Forward!" They saw Nolan and
his friends seated on their panting horses, staring after them in amaze
and wonderment, then resolutely following.

A mile now would bring them whistling by the site of old Fort Reynolds,
and a lump rose in Geordie's throat, for the weather-beaten, ramshackle
stables came in view as the Mogul rounded a long, easy curve, and
there, beyond them and on the level bench before them, stood the trim
rows of officers' quarters, now deserted and tenantless, yet guarded by
the single sergeant and his little squad of men. To the right, afar up
the track near the foot-bridge and ford, lay the station building,
wellnigh useless now since the greater interests and industries, that
had made the railway possible and forced the Indian farther back, had
also fouled the mountain stream and spoiled the site for a cavalry
post.

There stood the freight sheds; there were the chutes for horses and
mules; there, beyond them, the now abandoned office and waiting-room;
and there, still glistening white and towering, the semaphore
signal-mast of the railway; and then and there, sure and sudden, there
dropped the black arm straight across and above their glistening path
in the never-to-be-neglected order--Stop!

Big Ben's lined face went swiftly gray through its coat of grime, but
the firm hand did its instant work with the throttle. Then, swinging
from his seat, he grasped the glistening lever and, peering intently
forward, stood ready to throw it in reverse. Toomey sprang for the cord
and jerked one fierce toot out of the whistle, the old-ti