“Where's Baker?”
“He went home on the 6. 10. He lives up at Car-son, you know.”
This was the first stop on the M. & W. east of Buckhom.
“Why did you let him leave? Great God, man! Do you mean to say that he's been loafing around here all day with his hands in his pockets? He'll never pull another throttle for the Huckleberry!”
Durks did not attempt to reply to this explosion of wrath.
“Who made up the train?” demanded Dan.
“Baker did. Him and his fireman. I didn't know but the freight might come up from Parker's Run, and I wanted to be fixed for 'em. I couldn't do a thing with Baker. I told him his orders were to try and reach Antioch with the relief train, but he said he didn't care a damn who gave the order, he wasn't going to risk his life.”
But Dan had lost interest in Baker.
“Look here,” he cried. “You must get a fireman for me, and I'll take out the train myself.”
He wondered why he had not thought of this before.