Page:Ralph on the Railroad.djvu/975

Rh of the obstruction, the night express would come thundering down the grade at a forty-mile clip around the sharp curves of Widener's Gap.

"It's 38. She's due, entering Widener," breathed Ralph. "Yes," with a glance at the cab clock, "and just on time. Mr. Fogg," he shouted after his fireman, leaping to the ground, "get the people out of that coach—38 is coming."

"The Night Express," cried Fogg hoarsely. "I never thought of it."

Ralph tore one of the rear red tender lights from its place. He started down the out rails on a dead run. His only hope now was of reaching the straight open stretch past the last curve in open view of Widener. To set the warning signal short of that would be of no avail. No. 38 could not possibly see it in time, coming at full speed, to avoid a smash-up.

In a single minute the young engineer was drenched to the skin. It was all that he could do to keep from being blown from his footing. He fairly counted the seconds as he shot forward, sprinting to the limit on that slippery, flooded roadbed. He could not restrain a shout of relief and hope as he turned the last curve.

"Widener—38!" he gasped.

The station lamps were visible, a mile distant. Somewhat nearer, a blur of white radiance amid