s out for a trial run--a record run, Ralph hoped to make it.
One particular car attached to the rear of the long train was the main
object of interest. It was a new car to the road, and its blazoned
name suggested an importance out of the ordinary--"China & Japan
Mail."

This car had just come in over a branch section by a short cut from
the north. If No. 999 could beat timetable routine half an hour and
deliver the mail to the Overland Express at Bridgeport, two hundred
miles distant, on time, it would create a new schedule, and meant a
good contract for the Great Northern, besides a saving of three hours'
time over the former roundabout trip of the China & Japan Mail.

Ralph had exchanged jolly greetings with his friends up to now. In an
instant, however, the sonorous, echoing "All aboard" from the
conductor way down the train was a signal for duty, prompt and
imperative. The pleasant depot scene faded from the sight and mind of
the ambitious young railroader. He turned his strict attention now to
the cab interior, as though the locomotive was a thing of life and
intelligence.

"Let 'er go, Ralph!"

John Griscom, the oldest engineer on the road, off duty, but a
privileged character on all occasions, stepped from the gossiping
crowd of loungers at a little distance. He swung up into the cab with
the expert airiness of long usage. His bluff, hearty face expressed
admiration and satisfaction, as his rapid eye took in the cab layout.

"I'll hold up the tender rail till we get to crossing," announced
Griscom. "Lad, this is front rank service all right, and I'm happy to
say that you deserve it."

"Thank you, Mr. Griscom," answered Ralph, his face beaming at the
handsome compliment. "I don't forget, though, that you helped some."

"Oh, so, so," declared Griscom. "I say, Fogg, you're named right."

It was to Lemuel Fogg that Griscom spoke. Fogg was Ralph's fireman on
the present trip. He presented a decided contrast to the brisk, bright
engineer of No. 999. He shoveled in the coal with a grim mutter, and
slammed the fire door shut with a vicious and unnecessary bang.

"What you getting at?" he growled, with a surly eye on Griscom.

"Fogg--fog, see? foggy, that's you--and groggy, eh? Sun's shining--why
don't you take it in? No slouch privilege firing this magnificent
king of the road, I'm thinking, and you ought to think so, too."

"Huh!" snapped Fogg, "it'll be kid luck, if we get through."

"Oho! there's where