“I think you need a little sleep now, sir,” urged Tom.
“I’m not out of my head,” smiled Timothy Thurston wanly. “Doc Gitney will tell you that. Come—-for I’m growing very tired. Can you swing this outfit and push the S.B. & L. through within charter time?”
“I—-I—-hardly know what to say,” stammered Tom, who felt dizzy from the sudden rush of blood to his head.
“Have you the courage to try?”
“Yes, sir—-_I have_!” came, without further hesitation from Tom Reade. “I believe I’ll succeed, at that, for I’ll stake health, and even life, on winning out!”
“That’s what I like to hear,” breathed Mr. Thurston, an added flush coming to his own face.
“Gentlemen, it’s time to leave,” warned Dr. Gitney, watching his patient.
“One moment more, Doc,” insisted the chief engineer feebly. “Gentlemen, you’ve heard what has just been said. Will everyone of you pledge himself on his honor to drop all feeling that might interfere? Will you all stand loyally by Reade, take his orders and help boost him and all the rest of us through to victory in this big game?”
“I will!” spoke Jack Rutter earnestly and with a deep sigh of relief.
The others added their promises.