“All right, come ahead!” And the engine, with its tender and two cars, began its hazardous journey.
As they slipped past him, the operator yelled his good-bye, and Dan pushed open the cab window and waved his hand.
Roger Oakley, on the narrow iron shelf between the engine and the tender, was already throwing coal into the furnace. His face wore a satisfied expression. Apparently he was utterly unmoved by the excitement of the moment, for he bent to his work as if it were the most usual of tasks, and the occasion the most commonplace. He had taken off his coat and vest and had tossed them up on the tender out of his way. Dan, looking over the boiler's end, could see his broad shoulders and the top of his head. He leaned back with his hand on the throttle.
“Father!” he called.
The old convict straightened up instantly.
“Yes, Dannie?”
“You are going with me? You are determined?”
“I thought we settled that, Dannie, before we started,” he said, pleasantly, but there was a shrewd, kindly droop to the corners of his mouth, for he appreciated his victory.
“I want to know, because if I am to slow up for you I'll have to do it soon, or I'll be leaving you in worse shape than I found you.”
To this his father made no direct reply. Instead he asked, “Do you think we'll reach Antioch in time to do them any good?” Dan faced about.