t my
life with him before any mortal man; and the instant he gave the word,
I jumped, and did it safe. We each put on our brakes, and took breath,
and desperately hot we both were, I can assure you."

"Were you not terribly afraid?" said Archy, who had been almost
breathless during the recital.

"I can't say that we were," said John, coolly; "but I'll tell you I
was frightened enough the next moment, when Mat looked at his watch,
and sees that the down express was due in a few minutes on his line. I
believe that Mat thought more o' the passengers that might be
smashed, and the risk for the Bison, than o' his own safety. He said
it would never do to reverse the engines now; but if we kept on, he
thought there might yet be time to run into the siding at the nearest
station. So on we went once more at increased speed, straight on
ahead, though it was like running into the very face of the danger.
The telegraph had been hard at work, and the station people had been
laying their heads together, and they were at the points. So, when
they heard the whistle, and saw Mat putting on the brake, they at once
opened the points,--not a moment too soon, I can tell you,--and in he
ran into the siding. Now, what Mat did, sir, was what I call about
equal to most generals in war, and as great a benefit to society."

"He must be a brave fellow," said Archy; "and I hope you were both
rewarded for it."

"The company behaved very handsome," was the answer. "Mat got on to
the Great Western line at once; but the worst of it is, he and I are
parted, and the old Bison; he felt his loss as much, if not more than
me."

Mrs. Falkoner, who had come in during the latter part of the story,
now said,--

"But tell the young gentleman what you did your own self, and what the
company thought of your conduct."

"Tuts, Mary," he answered; "I did nought extraordinary; there ain't a
man in the service but could have done the same, had they known old
Bison as well as I did."

"I should like to hear it, John," said Archy, who was standing ready
to leave the brother and sister alone.

"Well, 'cept it be to tell you how I got to be driver of the Bison
myself, it's not worth the listening to. When Mat left, Bill Jones got
to be my mate--the worst driver on the line; at least he couldn't
manage the Bison. He did not understand that engine one bit, and was
constantly getting into trouble, till I was driven almost wild. Bill
would say, 'Bison, indeed! he