“Reverse her, reverse her!” cried the other engineer, with fear in his voice.
“Reverse nothing,” said Saggart. “She’ll slide ten miles if you do. Jump, if you’re afraid.”
The man from the branch line promptly jumped.
“Save yourself,” said Saggart to the stoker; “there’s bound to be a smash.”
“I’ll stick by you, Mr. Saggart,” said the fireman, who knew him. But his hand trembled.
The air-brake was grinding the long train and sending a shiver of fear through every timber, but the rails were slippery with frost, and the speed of the train seemed as great as ever. At the right moment Saggart reversed the engine, and the sparks flew up from her great drivers like catharine wheels.
“Brace yourself,” cried Saggart. “No. 6 is backing up, thank God!”
Next instant the crash came. Two headlights and two cow-catchers went to flinders, and the two trains stood there with horns locked, but no great damage done, except a shaking up for a lot of panic-stricken passengers.
The burly engineer of No. 6 jumped down and came forward, his mouth full of oaths.
“What the h—l do you mean by running in on our time like this? Hello, is that you, Saggart? I thought there was a new man on to-night. I didn’t expect this from you.”