A deep breath of relief and satisfaction flickered through Matt's tense lips. A hundred small things had conspired to make that race with the limited a success, and a turn for the worse in any one of them would have spelled failure.
But it was over and he had won. There was a chance for Clip.
Matt diminished speed slowly. The cars of the train began gliding past him, and the thick smoke covered him as with a pall.
He heard yells from the passengers. They were not cheers, but shouts of warning and cries of consternation.
What did they mean?
Matt could see nothing for the moment, the vapor from the engine shrouded him so thickly that it blanketed his view in every direction.
Nevertheless, he instinctively cut off the power and gripped the brake.
Yet it is doubtful if he could by any possibility have saved himself, even had he known the full extent and nature of his peril. The Comet was under such tremendous headway that a short stop was out of the question.
A frenzied whoop broke on Matt's ears. At almost the same moment there was a shivering crash, so quick and sudden it was more like an explosion than anything else.
It fell to Chub to see all this. His chum's danger loomed full on his stricken eyes.