Like a flash out of the unseen it came to the prisoner of despair that the thing forgotten had to do with some telegram mislaid or overlooked, and here was his opportunity. Sooner or later the tapping sounder would give him the lost clew, and he would lie in wait and listen and pounce upon it.
One by one the messages received hours before were ticked off into the silence, and so single-eyed was the listener that it did not occur to him to marvel at the miracle. Word for word they came, and he could even recognise the varying “writing” of the different operators on the line. At length there was a pause, and then the sounder began again, tapping out the Denver office call with the signature of Lone Pine Junction. Antrim pounced upon the key and answered. Without a break the message followed the closing of the key:
“To Craig, Superintendent, Denver:
“Owing to sudden illness of a member of the president’s party, we are running private car Aberystwyth as special train with right of way against all other trains. Make same arrangement for Western Division. Must reach Denver at earliest possible moment. On present schedule, will arrive Lone Pine Junction between nine and ten this P. M.
“R. F. Angus, G. M.”
Antrim heard it through, opened his key and sent the reply:
“To R. F. Angus, General Manager, care car Aberystwyth, running as special train on Eastern Division:
“Your message to-day. Car Aberystwyth will be run as special train on Western Division, Lone Pine Junction to Denver, with right of way over all trains.
“Craig, Superintendent.”
Then he felt in the darkness for the pad of letter-heads, dipped the pen, and began the forgotten letter of instructions to the train despatcher: