flame had sunk to a faint red jet that would not be seen in the dust.
His hands shook, but he gave the pump a few strokes and turned the valve
wheel. The red jet got white and leaped higher and Lister, pumping hard,
looked up the track. Big cars, rocking and banging, rushed past in a
cloud of dust. Bits of gravel struck him and rattled against the lamp.
The blurred, dark figures of men who sat upon the load cut against the
fan-shaped beam, and in the background he saw a shower of leaping
sparks.

But the other light was growing and Lister turned the wheel. Burning oil
splashed around him, a pillar of fire rushed up, and when a whistle
screamed he let go the valve and turned from the blinding dust. He was
shaking, but the heavy snorting stopped. The engineer had seen the light
and cut off steam.

When Lister looked round the train was gone. He had done what he had
undertaken, and after waiting for a few moments he started back. Now he
could go cautiously, he stopped and tried to brace himself at the end of
the bridge. Although he had run across not long since, he shrank from
the dark, forbidding gaps. For all that, he must get back, and feeling
carefully for the ties, he reached the other side and was for some time
engaged at the muskeg where two cars had overrun the broken rails. At
length he went to the log shack he used for his office and
sleeping-room, and soon after he lighted his pipe Kemp came in.

"You made it," Kemp remarked. "When you stopped me at the bridge I saw
you'd get there."

Lister laughed. "Now you talk about it, I believe I did shout you to go
back. Anyhow, you were some way behind. Did Willis come?"