“Give me the L. & G. W. dispatcher’s office, quick!” said he. “I can’t remember the number ... it’s 420, four, two, naught. Is this Agnew? This is Elkins talking. Listen! Without a moment’s delay, I want you to find out when President Pendleton’s special, east-bound on his Pacific Division, passes Elkins Junction. I’m at my office, and will wait for the information here.... Don’t let me wait long, please, understand? And, say! Call Solan to the ’phone.... Is this Solan? Mr. Solan, get out the best engine you’ve got in the yards, couple to it a caboose, and put on a crew to make a run to Elkins Junction, as quick as God’ll let you! Do you understand? Give me Schwartz and his fireman.... Yes, and Corcoran, too. Andy, this is a case of life and death—of life and death, do you understand? See that the line’s clear, and no stops. I’ve got to connect east at Elkins Junction with a special on that line.... Got to, d’ye see? Have the special wait at the State Street crossing until we come aboard!”
CHAPTER XXV.
That Last Weird Battle in the West.
There was still some remnant of daylight left when we stepped from a closed carriage at the State Street crossing and walked to the train prepared for us. The rain had all but ceased, and what there was came out of some northern quarter of the heavens mingled with stinging pellets of sleet, driven by a fierce gale. The turn of the storm had come, and I was wise enough in weather-lore to see that its rearguard was sweeping down upon us in all the bitterness of a winter’s tempest.
Beyond the tracks I could see the murky water of Brushy Creek racing toward the river under the State Street bridge.
“I believe,” said I, “that the surface-water from above is showing the flow from the flume.”
“Yes,” said Jim absently, “it must be about ready to break up. I hope we can get out of the valley before dark.”
The engine stood ready, the superabundant power popping off in a deafening hiss. The fireman threw open the furnace-door and stoked the fire as we approached. Engineer Schwartz, the same who had pulled us over the road that first trip, was standing by his engine, talking with our old conductor, Corcoran.