goodly company was moving forward, and that there were ladies among
the curious crowd. If it was perfectly safe for them to satisfy their
curiosity, why not she? She arose and hurried out of the car,
following the swinging lamp of the brakeman as he strode on.

Ruth ran a little, seeing well enough to pick her way over the ends of
the ties, and arrived to find at least half a hundred people grouped
on the track ahead of the locomotive pilot. The great, unblinking,
white eye of the huge machine revealed the group clearly-- and the
object around which the curious passengers, as well as the train crew,
had gathered.

It was a dog-- a great, handsome, fawn-colored mastiff, sleek of coat
and well fed, but muddied now along his flanks, evidently having waded
through the mire of the wet meadow beside the tracks. He had come
under, or through, a barbed wire fence, too, for there was a long
scratch upon his shoulder and another raw cut upon his muzzle.

To his broad collar was fastened a red lamp. Nobody had taken it off,
for both the train men and the passengers were excitedly discussing
what his presence here might mean; and some of them seemed afraid of
the great fellow.

But Ruth had been used to dogs, and this noble looking fellow had no
terrors for her. He seemed so woebegone, his great brown eyes pleaded
so earnestly, that she could only pity and fondle him.

"Look out, Miss; maybe he bites," warned the anxious conductor. "I
wager this is some boy's trick to stop the train. And yet--"