Phil chafed under this, fearing that he would be obliged to miss the last train out that night, which would again put him on the same train with his rivals next day.
One of his men would have a thirty-five-mile drive back after he had finished his day's work. That would bring the man "home," as the return to the car is called, long after midnight in all probability.
Inquiry at the station and a wire to the division superintendent failed to get a special engine to haul Car Three out that night. But in his talk with the station agent Phil learned something that set him thinking. He pondered over the information he had obtained, for sometime.
"I believe I can do it," he muttered. "Talk about Teddy taking long chances, I am going to try to take some chances tonight that are far more dangerous. But I must do something."
Phil had seen a section gang go out in the morning. They had not come in yet, so the Circus Boy strolled over toward the station shortly after six o'clock waiting for the section gang to return.
They did not come in until after seven o'clock.
As the men were going by the station, having put their handcar away, Phil motioned to the foreman of the gang, a bright faced Irishman.
"How are you?" greeted Phil smilingly.
The foreman waved a hand, at which Phil beckoned the man to come to him.
"Are there any more trains over this division tonight?"