An hour later our hero was safely between the sheets, with a nurse superintending his comfort. By the time that Phineas arrived on the scene he was conscious, though hardly fit for an interview; but on the following morning he was almost himself, and chafed under the nurse's restraint till the surgeon gave him permission to get up.
"As if I was a baby," he growled. "I suppose I fell on my head, and that knocked me silly. But it's nothing; I haven't more than the smallest headache now."
"Just because you're lucky, young fellow," quizzed the surgeon. "Let me say this: the tumble you had was enough to knock you silly, and I dare say that if you hadn't had something particular to do you would have gone off at once. But your grit made you hold on to your senses. That car, when it overturned, as near as possible smashed your head into the earth beneath it. You'll never be nearer a call while you're working here on the canal. Low diet, sister, and see that he keeps quiet."
Jim glowered on the surgeon and made a grimace. "Low diet indeed! Why, he felt awful hungry."
But no amount of entreaty could influence the nurse, and, indeed, it became apparent to even our hero himself that the course of procedure was correct. For that evening he was not so well, though a long, refreshing sleep put him to rights.
"And now you can hear something about the commotion the whole thing's caused," said Phineas, as he put Jim into a chair in his parlour, and ordered him with severity to retain his seat. "Orders are that you keep quiet, else back you go right off to the hospital. Young man, there were forty-two souls aboard that passenger train, and I reckon you saved 'em. Of course, there are plenty of wise heads that tell us that the driver, when he'd stopped his train, should have turned all the passengers out. Quite so, sir; but then it takes time to do that. You might not have opened the points, and the spoil train would have been into them before the people could climb down out of the cars. So the general feeling is that everyone did his best, except the villain who cut that coupling half through. They've told you about it?"
Jim nodded slowly. "Who could have done such a miserable and wicked thing?" he asked. "Not one of the white employees."
"It don't bear thinking about," said Phineas sharply. "No one can even guess who was the rascal. Leave the matter to the police; they're making quiet enquiries. But there's to be a testimonial, Jim, a presentation one evening at the club, and a sing-song afterwards."
"What? More!" Jim groaned. "Let them take this testimonial as presented. I'll come along to the sing-song."
"And there's to be promotion for a certain young fellow we know," proceeded Phineas, ignoring his remarks utterly. "One of the bosses of a section down by Milaflores locks got his thumb jammed in a gear wheel a week back, and the chief has been looking round to replace him. You've been selected."