of warning he sprang to the ground with a
vague idea of preventing the stranger's escape. At the same moment the
crowd surged back upon him, and when he finally cleared himself from it he
saw the man backing down the platform, holding his would-be pursuers in
check with a levelled pistol, and just disappearing from the circle of
electric light.

A minute later two frightened men were driven at the point of a revolver
from the cab of a freight locomotive that, under a full head of steam,
was standing on the outer one of the two west-bound tracks. They had
hardly left it in sole charge of the robber, by whom it had already been
uncoupled from its train, before it sprang forward and began to move away
through the darkness.

Rod, who was now well in advance of all other pursuers, instantly
comprehended the situation. His own train stood on the inner west-bound
track and he was near its forward end. The robber with his blood-stained
plunder was disappearing before his very eyes, and if lost to view might
easily run on for a few miles and then make good his escape. He must not
be allowed to do so! He must be kept in sight!

This was Rod's all-absorbing thought at the moment. Moved by it, he jerked
out the coupling-pin, by which the locomotive of the Express Special was
attached to its train, leaped into the cab, threw over the lever, pulled
open the throttle, and had started on one of the most thrilling races
recorded in the annals of railroading, before the astonished fireman, who
had been left in charge, found time to remonstrate.

"Look here, young fellow! what are you about?" he shouted, stepping
threateningly toward Rod.

"We are about chasing the train robber, who has just gone off with that
engine on number four track, and you want to keep up the best head of
steam you know how," was the answer.

"Have we any orders to do so?"

"You have, at any rate, for I give them to you."

"And who are you? I never saw you before to-night."

"I am Rod Blake, one of Tobin's trainmen, and if you don't quit bothering
me with your stupidity and go to work, I'll pitch you out of this cab!"
shouted Rod savagely, in a tone that betrayed the intensity of his nervous
excitement.

The man had heard of the young brakeman and of his skill as a boxer,
though he had never met him before that night, and his half-formed
intention of compelling the lad to turn back was decidedly weakened by
the mention of his name. Still he hesitated.