On the farther side, half covering the dead grass, was a small eddy of sand!
Hopefully Alex hastened to the next post. The same!
To make doubly sure, he tried the third, and with an exulting, “The same again!” started to his feet, and struck on, whistling gaily, confident he was heading due north, and that this was the same fence he had seen along the new embankment.
A further cheering thought occurred to the young operator presently. The construction-train should not be far from the stretch of road which paralleled the fence!
Onward he pushed through the darkness at a steady, swinging gait, feeling frequently for the fence, to make sure he was not wandering.
For what seemed several hours Alex had been walking, when a faint light appeared in the sky. It was to his right. His plainsmanship had not put him amiss.
As the light brightened he gazed anxiously ahead. The ragged, thin-posted fence stretched unbroken to the northern horizon. He had hoped the light would reveal the swing to the east, and the dark shape of the construction-train.
Alex continued steadily ahead, however, buoying up his lagging energies with pictures of a hot, appetizing meal and a pleasant meeting with Jack and the rest of his friends on the train. And finally, when the sun had been some time above the horizon, he uttered a shout. Far in front, but distinct in the beautifully clear air, the fence turned abruptly to the east. And less than a mile sun-ward was a long dark shape and columns of smoke rising lazily into the air.
Scrambling through the fence, Alex set off on a bee-line for the train, whistling a brisk march.
Five minutes later the whistler paused in the middle of a note and spun sharply about. The color left his bronzed face. A mile to the rear, on the other side of the fence, a horseman was following him at full speed. A glance at the white-faced pony told it was Munson, and turning, Alex was off, running with every ounce of his remaining energy.