“HE STEPPED TO ONE SIDE, AND ... BROUGHT DOWN HIS CLUB UPON THE OTHER’S HEAD”
Reddy waited to hear no more.
“Oi knowed it!” he yelled. “Oi knowed it! Oi’ll show you! Oi’ll show you, y’ dirty spy! Don’t try t’ run—it’s no use!”
And he came charging down upon Allan, his club swinging savagely.
But Allan was thinking not in the least of running. Instead, he stood his ground, his teeth clenched, his eyes alert, his club ready. He was not in the least excited; now, indeed, he found an instant in which to wonder at his calmness. Then Reddy was upon him and struck at him savagely. He stepped to one side, and, putting all his force into the blow,—oh, how he hated to do it!—brought down his club upon the other’s head.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE SIGNAL IN THE NIGHT
That blow had all the weight of Allan’s muscular young body behind it, for he had realized that this was no moment to hold his hand, however he might wish to do so, and Reddy tumbled in a limp heap upon the track.
The tears were gushing from the boy’s eyes as he bent over the body and drew it to one side to the shelter of the rock. That he should have struck Reddy—perhaps even killed him! But he could not linger; with a last glance at the prostrate figure, he turned back to the task before him.
Plainly he could not hope to cross the trestle with half a dozen men working on it—to try to do so would mean certain failure. Yet he must cross the ravine,—there was only one other way, and that not an easy one.
He threw off Jack’s waterproof, which would only impede him now that he needed the utmost freedom of movement, and, holding his lantern tight, he jumped from the track and half-scrambled, half-fell down the steep descent below him, disregarding mud and brambles, torn clothes, and bruises, thinking only of one thing—that he must reach the other side and save the train. In a moment he was at the bottom, bruised and breathless, but luckily with no bones broken. Then for an instant he paused. Through the bottom of the ravine ran a stream, usually a gentle, shallow brook, but now swollen to an angry torrent by the pouring rain. There was no time for hesitation—no time to seek a better place—indeed, that was impossible in the darkness—and, holding his lantern high above his head, the boy dashed into the water.