"WILLIAM A. FULLER."
He handed the message to the station agent.
Murphy, on the tender, suddenly raised his arms and yelled. The engineer of the Texas closed the throttle, and reversed the engine. Fuller jumped to the brake; and the fireman, thinking that he had a train crew to man the brakes, swung on the whistle cord to give warning. It was this blast which fell on the ears of Andrews' men as they were tearing up the rail, a mile and a half farther north.
The Texas, trembling under the power of the reversed pressure against her piston, seemed to buck upon the tracks. She stopped as though she had come to the end of an anchor chain.
"Ties on the track," shouted Murphy, jumping from the tender. The others followed him and they tossed the ties to the side. Then they scrambled back aboard the locomotive.
"You men stand by the brake," ordered Fuller. "Murphy and I will be on the tender. When we raise our arms—stop!"
Two minutes later, Fuller and Murphy, straining to see obstructions on the track, caught a glimpse of the gap where a rail had been torn loose. It was only a glimpse, for the engine was almost upon it, swinging around the curve. They yelled and raised their arms, but it was too late.
Even before the engineer could close the throttle the Texas was on the verge of the break. Fuller and Murphy sat paralyzed, their arms outstretched, expecting the locomotive to plunge from the rails. Then, an instant later, they knew that the Texas had miraculously sailed over the gap!
Fuller was the first to regain his senses. He waved to the engineer to go ahead, and the Texas swept down the road. Murphy and Fuller looked at one another in dumb amazement.
"The inside rail of the curve," Murphy said at last. Fuller nodded in comprehension.