knocked off for dinner I felt pretty easy in mind, knowin' we'd broke
the back o' the job.

"Well, we touched pipe and started again. Bein' so close to the line
I'd posted a fella with a flag--Bill Martin it was--to keep a look
out for the down-trains; an' about three o'clock or a little after he
whistled one comin'. I happened to be in the culvert at the time,
but stepped out an' back across the brook, just to fling an eye along
the embankment to see that all was clear. Clear it was, an'
therefore it surprised me a bit, as the train hove in sight around
the curve, to see that she had her brakes on, hard, and was slowin'
down to stop. My first thought was that Bill Martin must have taken
some scare an' showed her the red flag. But that was a mistake;
besides she must have started the brakes before openin' sight on
Bill."

"Then why on earth was she pulling up?" I asked. "It couldn't be
signals."

"There ain't no signal within a mile of Treba meadow, up or down.
She was stoppin' because--but just you let me tell it in my own way.
Along she came, draggin' hard on her brakes an' whistlin'.
I knew her for an excursion, and as she passed I sized it up for a
big school-treat. There was five coaches, mostly packed with
children, an' on one o' the coaches was a board--'Exeter to
Penzance.' The four front coaches had corridors, the tail one just
ord'nary compartments.

"Well, she dragged past us to dead-slow, an' came to a standstill
with her tail coach about thirty yards beyond where I stood, and, as