e--"Number Two."

Toddles' first impulse was to smash in the window and reach the key.
And then, like a dash of cold water over him, Donkin's words seemed to
ring in his ears: "Use your head."

With the "seventeen" it meant a matter of minutes, perhaps even
seconds. Why smash the window? Why waste the moment required to do it
simply to answer the call? The order stood for itself--"Hold second
Number Two." That was the second section of the Limited, east-bound.
Hold her! How? There was nothing--not a thing to stop her with. "Use
your head," said Donkin in a far-away voice to Toddles' wobbling brain.

Toddles looked up the track--west--where he had come from--to where the
switch light twinkled green at him--and, with a little sob, he started
to drag himself back along the platform. If he could throw the switch,
it would throw the light from green to red, and--and the Limited would
take the siding. But the switch was a long way off.

Toddles half fell, half bumped from the end of the platform to the
right of way. He cried to himself with low moans as he went along. He
had the heart of a fighter, and grit to the last tissue; but he needed
it all now--needed it all to stand the pain and fight the weakness that
kept swirling over him in flashes.

On he went, on his hands and knees, slithering from tie to tie---and
from one tie to the next was a great distance. The life and death, the
despatcher's call--he seemed to hear it yet--throbbing, throbbing on
the wire.

On he went, up the track; and the green eye of the lamp, winking at
him, drew nearer. And then suddenly, clear and mellow through the
mountains, caught up and echoed far and near, came the notes of a chime
whistle ringing down the gorge.

Fear came upon Toddles then, and a great sob shook him. That was the
Limited coming now! Toddles' fingers dug into the ballast, and he
hurried--that is, in bitter pain, he tried to crawl a little faster.
And as he crawled, he kept his eyes strained up the track--she wasn't
in sight yet around the curve--not yet, anyway.

Another foot, only another foot, and he would reach the siding
switch--in time--in plenty of time. Again the sob--but now in a burst
of relief that, for the moment, made him forget his hurts. He was in
time!

He flung himself at the switch lever, tugged upon it--and then,
trembling, every ounce of remaining strength seeming to ooze from him,
he covered his face with his hands. It was _loc