liver stooped, grasping the man's shoulders. In each fist he clenched
bunches of wet cloth. In a sort of desperation he commenced to shake the
bundled figure.

"You tell me where you been----"

"NT. NT. NT."

Joe leered.

"Joe! You got to tell me where you been."

The pounding took Tolliver's strength. He crouched lower in an effort to
avoid it, but each blow struck as hard as before, forcing into his brain
word after word that he passionately resented. Places, hours,
minutes--the details of this vital passage of two trains in the
unfriendly night.

"Switch whichever arrives first, and hold until the other is through."

It was difficult to understand clearly, because Joe's laughter
persisted, crashing against Tolliver's brain as brutally as the sounder.

"You got to tell me if you been bothering Sally."

The hatred and the cunning of the mottled face grew.

"Why don't you ask Sally?"

Slowly Tolliver let the damp cloth slip from his fingers. He
straightened, facing more definitely that abominable choice. He glanced
at his cap and overcoat. The lazy clock hands reminded him that he had
remained in the tower nearly half an hour beyond his time. Joe was
right. It was clear he could satisfy himself only by going home and
asking Sally.

"Get up," he directed. "I guess you got sense enough to know you're on
duty."

Joe struggled to his feet and lurched to the table. Tolliver wondered at
the indecision in the other's eyes, which was more apparent. Joe fumbled
aimlessly with the yellow slips. Tolliver's fingers, outstretched toward
his coat, hesitated, as if groping for an object that must necessarily
elude them.

"Special!" Joe mumbled. "And--Hell! Ain't thirty-three through yet?"

He swayed, snatching at the edge of the table.

Tolliver lowered his hands. The division superintendent had pounded out
something about fuses. What had it been exactly? "Keep fuses burning."

With angry gestures he took his coat and cap down, and put them on while
he repeated all the instructions that had been forced into his brain
with the effect of a physical violence. At the table Joe continued to
fumble aimlessly.

"Ain't you listening?" Tolliver blurted out.

"Huh?"

"Why don't you light a fuse?"

It was quite obvious that Joe had heard nothing.

"Fuse!" Joe repeated.

He stooped to a box beneath the table. He appeared to lose his balance.
He sat on the floor with his back against the wall, his head drooping.

"