ding, and from
its windows hundreds of passengers were gazing at the express which
passed them like a meteor--perhaps they were congratulating themselves,
as well they might, for, but for the "block system," their danger would
have been tremendous; almost equal to that of a man endeavouring to run
away from a cannon-shot. This may be somewhat better understood when we
explain that the "Flying Dutchman" could not have been stopped in a
shorter space than one mile and a half.

At length the iron horse came suddenly on an obstruction which filled
its driver with deep anxiety and alarm. Daily had John driven that
train, but never before had he met with a similar danger. At a level
crossing, less than a mile in advance of him, he observed a horse and a
loaded cart standing right across the line. Either the horse was a
run-away, or the driver had left it for a little and it had strayed.
Whatever the cause of its being there John's alert mind saw at once that
a collision was inevitable. He shut off steam, and was about to whistle
for the guard to apply the brakes, while Will Garvie, who also saw the
danger, was already turning on the brakes of the tender.

John reflected that it would be impossible to come to a stand within the
space that lay between him and the cart and that a partial concussion
would be almost certain to throw his engine off the rails. Less than a
minute remained to him.

"Let her go, mate," he shouted quickly.

Will Garvie obeyed at once. John put on full steam, the "Flying
Dutchman" leaped forward with increased velocity. Then followed a
slight shock, and; next moment, the cart and horse were smashed to
atoms--all but annihilated!

It was a great risk that had been run; but of two evils John Marrot had
chosen the less and came off in triumph with only a slight damage to his
buffers.

Let us now quit the engine for a little, and, retracing our steps in
regard to time, visit some of the carriages behind it.

When the "late passenger" recovered her breath and equanimity, and found
herself fairly on her journey, she unfolded her bundle of shawls and
disclosed a fat glossy lap-dog, which seemed to enjoy its return to
fresh air and daylight, and acknowledged, with sundry wags of its tail
and blinks of its eyes the complimentary assurance that it was the
"dearest, sweetest, p'ittiest 'ittle darling that ever was born," and
that, "it wouldn't be allowed to pay a nasty fare to a mean railway
compan