Blake sat down opposite him. His eyes never left Ferrell's face. Yet, Ferrell held himself remarkably in reserve.
"I did it more for Dauna than anyone else," Blake admitted slowly. "We wouldn't have anything happen to her would we?"
Ferrell turned toward his daughter.
"I've been pretty hard on my girl," he said. "But if she hadn't got out safely I'd have torn that place apart with my bare hands."
He meant every word of it. Blake's body tensed. The full shock of what Ferrell's words meant was sinking slowly into his brain. Suddenly he shot to his feet.
"I've been a fool," he said. "A damned, blind fool!"
"A fool?" There was no mistaking Walter Ferrell's bewilderment.
Blake was already at the car door.
"I'm going to take a long chance," he shouted back. "Ferrell, you crowd the passengers into both halls at the ends of the car. Open the outer doors. If the train goes into the lake, try to get as many out as you can."