the young engineer was drenched to the skin. It was
all that he could do to keep from being blown from his footing. He
fairly counted the seconds as he shot forward, sprinting to the limit
on that slippery, flooded roadbed. He could not restrain a shout of
relief and hope as he turned the last curve.

"Widener--38!" he gasped.

The station lamps were visible, a mile distant. Somewhat nearer, a
blur of white radiance amid the dashing rain, was the headlight of
No. 38 showing that she was coming at momentarily increasing speed.
Ralph aimed to run nearer to the air line stretch to plant the signal.
Suddenly his feet tripped and he went headlong. The breath seemed
knocked out of his body as he landed across the ties of the brief
trestle reach, which he had forgotten all about in his excitement. The
lantern, flung wide from his grasp, struck one rail, smashed to
pieces, and the lamp went out as it dropped with a flare into the deep
gully beneath.

CHAPTER XVIII

AT THE SEMAPHORE

THE young engineer of No. 999 struggled to his feet appalled. The case
seemed hopeless. He had matches in his pocket. In dry weather under
the same circumstances he might to gather up enough dry grass and
brush to build a fire between the rails, but now, with everything
soaked and dripping this was impossible.

"The semaphore signal!" gasped Ralph. "Can I reach it in time?"

He crossed the remainder of the trestle in desperate leaps. Ralph
calculated the distance to the semaphore, the distance of the train,
and his heart failed him. Still he kept on. His eyes were fixed on the
lantern aloft showing open tracks for the oncoming train. It was his
star of hope. Then as he reached it he saw that he was too late.

To scale the slippery timber to the staple-runners without boot hooks
would be no easy task. To get to the first rung and ascend would
consume fully two minutes' time.

"What shall I do--what can I do?" panted the young railroader in
desperation.

Just beyond the semaphore was a symmetrical heap of bleached blocks of
rock comprising a landmark guide for engineers. Ralph ran to it.
Groping among the gravel at its base, his fingers frantically grasped
several loose stones. He glanced once at the glowering headlight of
No. 38.

"If I can make it--if I can only make it!" he voiced, and the
aspiration was a kind of a wail.

The young engineer of No. 999 had been the former leader of all boyish
sports and exercises in Stanle