roar. The locomotive had crossed the divide and was running furiously
down grade. The roughly-ballasted track was uneven, but the engineer had
been on board since daybreak and no doubt wanted to finish his job.

"She's in the rock cut now," Kemp remarked. "Hardie ought to throttle
down when he runs out and sees the light."

Lister listened. The swelling note indicated that the train had left the
cut, but it did not look as if the engineer was pulling up.

"She's coming along pretty fast," said Willis. "If he doesn't snub her
soon, she'll jump the steel and take the muskeg."

Next moment Lister was on his feet. Hardie was driving too fast; Lister
doubted if he could stop before the heavy train plunged through the
broken track. The unsteady white flicker behind the trees had sunk and
changed to smoky red. If looked as if the oil was not vaporizing
properly and the lamp was going out. When the engineer saw the light it
would be too late.

"Get the boys off the track. I'll try to fix the lamp," Lister shouted,
and started for the bridge.

The errand was not his. Willis had lighted the lamp: moreover, one might
have sent a workman, but when a job was urgent Lister went himself. The
job was urgent and dangerous. Unless he made good speed, he would meet
the train on the bridge and the cylinders of the locomotive projected
beyond the edge.

The track was rough and fresh gravel rolled under his feet. Now and then