We found him very easily.
The conductor was running through the train toward us as we reached the second car, and his face was the face of a fear-racked maniac.
“What's happened?” he shrieked. “Why on earth are we backing?”
“Why, you see——” Hawkins began.
“For God's sake, stop your machine! You're the man who owns it, aren't you?”
“Certainly, certainly. But you see, the mechanism has—er—slipped somewhere—nothing serious, of course—and——”
“Serious!” roared the railroad man. “You call it nothing serious for us to be flying along backwards and the Washington express coming up behind at a mile a minute!”
“Oh! oh! Is it?” Hawkins faltered.
“Yes! Can't you stop her—anyway?”
“Well, not that I know—why, see here!” A smile of relief illumined Hawkins' face.