With the letter, for which he and Matt had risked so much, safe in his pocket, Chub had turned and climbed from the top of the steam-chest to the foot-board.
In this position he was facing the cab of the engine, and looking back along the wagon-road.
Matt was completely engulfed in the smoke, and Chub could not see him; but Chub saw something else that made his heart stand still and sent a sickening fear through every limb.
With both shaking hands he hung to the rail that ran along the jacket of the boiler, dipping and lurching with the engine and staring back.
A big freight-wagon, drawn by six horses and manned by two freighters, was at a standstill in the road. The horses, frightened by the train, had plunged for the roadside, turning the huge van squarely across the trail.
The freighters were on the ground, hanging to the bits of the horses.
Chub, completely unnerved and his brain benumbed with fears for Matt, stared at the huge wagon. The wheels of the vehicle were plastered with mud, for it had just labored through the bog and struck good road.
Could Matt, engulfed as he was in that haze of smoke, see the wagon? Certainly he could not hear it, because of the roar of the train; but could he see it, and would he be able to stop the Comet in time to avoid a collision?
So ran Chub's agonized thoughts. Although his brain seemed dazed to everything else, yet it was peculiarly alert to all that concerned Matt and his peril.
Then, while Chub stared into the receding distance, the sharp detonation of the crash reached his ears. A groan was wrenched from him, and his legs gave way. But for the timely support of the fireman he would have fallen from the locomotive.