That twine had been strong enough to drag him, and it had cut his wrist almost to the bone; his head had hit the stove, and all those things that he had forgotten to take off it had come down and hit him.
"I had such a bad dream I just got up and came! I couldn't help it," he heard Mary Jane say.
It all seemed to him like a bad dream; but he heard himself say eagerly, although it sounded to him like a far-away voice, "No. 39 express, stop it! stop it!"
There was in the distance the thunder of a train. Mary Jane seized the red lantern from its nail and rushed out.
Though he was still half stupefied, Phin staggered to his feet and made his way to the door; in the moonlight he could see the flutter of Mary Jane's plaid shawl as she stood on the track.
The train slowed up, and came to a stop only a few feet from the plaid shawl.
The conductor demanded an explanation in an excited voice; the engineer and the brakeman were complaining in strong language that the train was behind time, and shouldn't have been stopped unless for a matter of life and death.
Phin had made his way to the track, although he was faint and dizzy; but his voice failed him when he tried to speak, for he realized in a flash that it was the Ganges branch train that Mary Jane had stopped!
"She—we meant to stop No. 39 express. I got hurt a little and mixed up," he faltered at length.