sweeping McCann along
with it, the others burst through the door and out on the platform, as,
volleying through the storm, came suddenly the quick, staccato bark of
engine exhaust.

For a moment, huddled there, trying to get the rights of it, no one
spoke--then it came in a yell from Matt Duggan.

"She's _gone_!" he screamed--and gulped for his breath. "She's gone!"

McCann looked, and blinked, and shook the rain out of his face. Two
hundred yards east down the track, and disappearing fast, were the
twinkling red tail lights of the caboose.

"By the tokens av all the saints," stammered McCann.

"Ut's--ut's----" He grabbed at Matt Duggan. "Fwhat engine is ut?"

It was MacGonigle who answered, as they crowded back inside again for
shelter--and answered quick, getting McCann's dropped jaw.

"The 1601. What's wrong with you, McCann?"

"Holy Mither!" stuttered McCann miserably. "That settles ut! Ut's
Owsley! 'Twas the whistle, d'ye moind--the whistle!"

Merle, young and hysterical, was up in the air.

"The Limited! The Limited!" he burst out, white-faced. "There ain't
three minutes between them! She's coming now!"

MacGonigle, grizzled old veteran, cool in any emergency, whirled on the
younger man.

"Then stop her!" he drawled. "Don't make a fool of yourself! Show
your red and hold her here until you get Big Cloud on the wire--they're
both running the _same_ way, aren't they, you blamed idiot!
Everything's out of the road far enough east of here on account of the
Limited to give 'em time at headquarters to take care of things. Let
'em have it at Big Cloud."

And Big Cloud got it. Spence, the despatcher, on the early night
trick, got it--and Carleton and Regan, at their homes, got it in a
hurried call from Spence over their private keys, that brought them
running to headquarters.

"I've cleared the line," said Spence. "The Limited is holding at Elk
River till Brook's Cut reports Owsley through--then she's to trail
along."

Carleton nodded, and took a chair beside the despatcher's table.
Regan, as ever with him in times of stress, tugged at his mustache, and
paced up and down the room.

He stepped once in front of Carleton and laughed shortly--and there was
more in his words, a whole lot more, than he realized then.

"The Lord knows where he'll stop now with the bit in his teeth, but
suppose he'd been heading the other way _into_ the Limited--h'm!
Head-on--instead of just tying up all the