The powerful lamp had been carried across the bridge in order to warn
the engineer of the gravel train, who on his last journey had run to the
end of the line. The light could be seen for some distance up the track.

"I got after Hardie about making good time. We must dump his load in the
soft spot before we stop," Lister resumed.

"He's coming now; climbing the height of land," said Kemp. "He'll let
her go all out when he makes the top."

A measured throb rolled across the woods, and as the noise got louder
the beat of the exhaust marked the progress of the train. The explosive
snorts indicated that the locomotive labored up the last steep pitch,
and Lister sat down by the rails. He was tired and would not be needed
until the gravel plough threw the rattling ballast off the cars. After a
few moments he looked up, for a man came out of the gloom.

"Hello, Willis! I s'pose you've been taking a quiet smoke?"

"That's so," said the other. "I've hustled round since sun-up and
imagined the gang could get along for half an hour without my watching.
You want to leave something to your foremen."

Lister said nothing. He did not choose his helpers, but tried to make
the best use of those the bosses sent. Willis had some useful qualities,
but he was slack, and got sulky if one drove him hard. The young man had
come from the drawing-office of a famous bridge-building works.

In the meantime, the rumble of the gravel train grew to a pulsating