he
first of the MacMorrogh camps. Since the night was frosty a huge bonfire
was burning beside the track; and when Hector blew his whistle, some one
flagged the train with a brand snatched from the fire. Ford stopped
because he dared not do otherwise.

"Well, what's wanted?" he snapped, when the train came to a stand, and
the brand-swinger, backed by a dozen others, made as if he would climb
to the cab of the 1012.

"Some of us fellies want to go down to Ten Mile--the liquor's out," said
the man, trying to get a fair sight of the strange engineman.

"Get off!" said Ford; and Hector made the order effective by shoving the
intruder from the step. That was easy; but before the train had measured
twice its length, a pistol barked thrice and the glass in the cab window
on Ford's side fell in splinters.

"Holy smoke!" said Hector. "Is them the kind of plug-uglies you've got
over here, Mr. Ford?"

Ford nodded. His eyes were on the track again, and he was hoping
fervently that the three shots had all been aimed at the engine. A mile
farther on, Penfield came sliding over the coal to say that the
president wanted to know what the shooting was about.

Ford turned the 1012 over to Hector. The track hazards of the mountain
grade were safely passed.

"Did any of the shots hit the car?" he asked of Penfield.

"No."

"Well, if you have to say anything before the ladies it might be
advisable to make a joke of it. Signal torpedoes sound very much like
pistol-shots, you know."

Penfield nodded. "But to Mr. Colbrith?"

"To Mr. Colbrith you may say that a gang of drunken MacMorrogh
surfacers flagged us down, and when we wouldn't let them have the train,
made a little gun play."

"Heavens!" said the clerk, whose curiosity stopped short at the farthest
confines of any battle-field. "Is that sort of thing likely to happen
again, Mr. Ford?"

"Your guess is as good as anybody's," said Ford curtly. "Better get back
to the car as quickly as you can, before Mr. Colbrith whistles us down
to find out what has become of you."

Below the camp of the surfacers there were a few miles of better track,
and Hector made fair time until the train circled the mountain shoulder
at the lower end of the great loop. Beyond this the roughnesses began
again, and there were more of the skimped rock cuttings. At Ten Mile,
which was a relay station in the upper canyon for the halting of
supplies and material for which there was no room at the ever-a