ey could
distinguish his piteous cries, and this was more than Rod could stand.
With a wet cloth over his mouth and axe in hand he dashed back into the
furnace. He was gone before the others knew what he was about to attempt,
and now they listened with bated breath to the sound of rapid blows coming
from behind the impenetrable veil of swirling smoke. As it eddied upward
and was lifted for an instant they caught sight of him, and rushing to the
spot, they dragged him out, with his arms tightly clasped about the
helpless form he had succeeded in releasing from its fiery prison.

At that moment the young brakeman presented a sorry picture, blackened
beyond recognition by his dearest friends, scorched, and with clothing
hanging in charred shreds. By some miracle he was so far uninjured that a
few dashes of cold water gave him strength to walk, supported by Conductor
Tobin, to the farm-house, whither the others bore the unconscious man
whom he had saved. The lad wished to help minister to the needs of the
sufferer, but those who had cheered his act of successful bravery now
insisted upon his taking absolute rest. So they made him lie down in a
dimly-lighted room, where the sheriff sat beside him, and, big rough man
that he was, soothed the exhausted lad with such tender gentleness, that
after awhile the latter fell asleep. When this happened and the sheriff
stole quietly out to where the others were assembled, he said
emphatically:

"Gentlemen, I am prouder to know that young fellow than I would be of the
friendship of a president."

CHAPTER XXXIII.

A WRECKING TRAIN.

While Rod lay in a dreamless sleep, which is the best and safest of
remedies for every ill, mental or physical, that human flesh is heir to, a
wrecking train arrived from New York. With it came a doctor, who was at
once taken to the farm-house. He first looked at the sleeping lad, but
would not allow him to be wakened, then he turned his attention to the
victims of the disaster, whose poor maimed bodies were so sadly in need of
his soothing skill.

During the long hours of the night, while the doctor was busy with his
human wrecks, the gang of experienced workmen who had come by the same
train, was rapidly clearing the wreck of cars from the tracks and putting
them in order for a speedy resumption of traffic. The wrecking train to
which they belonged was made up of a powerful locomotive and three cars.
The first of these was an immensely strong