n number, loaded with ties and iron rails for the road
below Echo City, where were then, as now, the station, switches, etc.
The reader will remember that, from the divide to the mouth of Echo
Canon is heavy grade, no level space on which cars would slack their
speed.

The train had proceeded but a few miles down the canon, going at a
lively rate, when the engineer discovered that the train had parted,
and four loaded cars had been left behind. Where the train parted the
grade was easy, hence that portion attached to the locomotive had
gained about half a mile on the stray cars. But when discovered, they
were on heavy grade and coming down on the train with lightning speed.
What was to be done? The leading train could not stop to pick them up,
for, at the rate of speed at which they were approaching, a collision
would shiver both trains, destroying them and the lives of those on
board.

There were two men, Dutchmen, on the loose cars, who might put on the
brakes, and stop the runaway. The whistle was sounded, but they heard
it not; they were fast asleep, behind the piles of ties. On came the
cars, fairly bounding from the track in their unguided speed, and away
shot the locomotive and train. Away they flew, on, around curves and
over bridges, past rocky points and bold headlands; on with the speed
of the wind, but no faster than came the cars behind them.

"Let on the steam," cried Paddy, and with the throttle chock open, and
wild terrible screams of the whistle, the locomotive plunged through
the gorge, the mighty rocks sending back the screams in a thousand
ringing echoes.

"Off with the ties," shouted Paddy, once more, as the whistle shouted
its warning to the station men to keep the track straight and free,
for there was no time to pause--that terrible train was close on to
them, and if they collided, the canon would have a fearful item added
to its history. On went the train past the side-tracks, the almost
frantic men throwing off the ties, in hopes that some of them would
remain on the track, throw off the runaways, and thus save the forward
train. Down the gorge they plunged, the terror keeping close by them,
leaping along--almost flying, said one, who told us the tale--while
the locomotive strained every iron nerve to gain on its dreaded
follower. Again the wild scream of the locomotive of "Switches open,"
rung out on the air and was heard and understood in Echo City. The
trouble was surmised, not known, b