WITH THE SHARP WORDS HE AGAIN GRASPED THE KEY.
And the boys and the flames had won!
The superintendent turned and held out his hand. “Ward, thank you,” he said huskily. “Thank you. You are a genuine railroader.”
“And—about the station?” queried Alex, a sudden apprehension in his face and voice. For the moment the crisis was past he had realized with dismay that he had issued the unprecedented order for the burning of the station entirely on his own responsibility.
“The station?” The superintendent laughed. “My boy, that was the best part of it. That was the generalship of it. There was no time to ask, only act. The fraction of a second might have lost the train.
“No; that is just why I say you are a genuine railroader—the burning of the station was a piece of the finest kind of railroading!
“And this reminds me,” added the superintendent some minutes later, leading Alex aside and speaking in a lower voice. “We expect to start construction on the Yellow Creek branch in six weeks, and will be wanting an ‘advance guard’ of three or four heady, resourceful operators with the construction train, or on ahead. Would you like to go? and your friend Orr? There’ll be plenty of excitement before we are through.”
“I’d like nothing better, sir, or Orr either, I know,” declared Alex with immediate interest. “But where will the excitement come in, sir?”