At the sight of ties lying across the track, Fuller's arms shot up. An instant later, the Texas was laboring to a stop under reversed power, her brakes grabbing at the wheels. Then, when the decreasing speed of the train gave his legs the advantage, Fuller was ahead, heaving ties from the road.
Far to the northward, across the bend which hid the Reseca bridge from view, Fuller caught a glimpse of the General speeding on its way. He saw that the train had been shortened once more, that the engine was hauling only one box-car. He dreaded that first sight of the Reseca bridge, for, if Andrews had left it in flames, the race was over for the Texas. Then they swept around the curve and the bridge lay before them, indistinct in the drizzle of rain. It appeared intact, but Fuller knew that long curving shed too well through his years of travel over the road not to be suspicious of what lurked inside.
He waved a signal to approach gradually; then, as they came to the entrance, his arms shot up. The Texas came to a stop.
"Wait here," he yelled, sliding down the ladder. He ran into the shed.
The left forward wheel of the box-car had mounted upon one of the ties thrown before it. The tie was wedged diagonally across the track, and the flange had cut a deep groove in it. The right wheel was nearly a foot off the track. Apparently the car had struck the tie just at the moment of losing momentum.
Fuller made a hasty examination, then ran back to the Texas. Murphy was coming forward to meet him.
"They've dropped the second box-car in there," explained Fuller. "The front wheels are off the track. We can drag it back, I think. We'll have to find a coupling pin."
The fireman was racing through his chest, looking for something which would serve to couple the cars together. "Will this be all right?" he asked, holding up a short crow-bar.
"Yes," answered Fuller. "And bring a heavy hammer."
While Murphy signaled the Texas into the shed, Fuller and the fireman ran forward with the crow-bar and hammer.