Alex shot a glance at the clock, and leaned forward over the instruments, scarcely breathing. There was yet three minutes before the Overland was due at Broken Gap. But she did not stop there, and frequently passed ahead of time. If “B” did not answer the call immediately—
The whir of “B’s” was interrupted, and slowly and deliberately came an “I, I, B.” Alex leaped in his chair, and again strained forward tensely.
“Has 68 passed?” hurled the despatcher.
“Just coming.”
“Stop her! Flag her! Qk! Qk!”
The line opened, as though “B” was about to make a reply, then smartly closed again.
“Stop her! Stop her!” repeated “X.”
There was a leaden, breathless silence, while Alex nervously clenched and unclenched his hands. At last the line again clicked open, and with a characteristic deliberation that caused the nerve-strung boy a moment’s hysterical laugh, “B” announced: “Just got her. She’s slowing in now. What’s up?”
The despatcher at “X” had regained his equilibrium, and in his usual crisp manner he replied: “Take this for Conductor Bedford:
“Bedford: Hold-up apparently planned between Broken Gap and Hadley Corners. Probably on one of the grades of the Little Timbers. Gather a posse quickly, and make sure of capturing them. Report at HC.