My blood ran cold through my veins as I gazed at the little child, who seemed to be paralyzed with astonishment as the iron monster swept towards her. It was a little girl, not more than four or five years old. The woman who ran shrieking towards the track was doubtless her mother. What a moment of agony it was to her! My heart bled for her, and the triumph of the Lightning Express sank into insignificance as I contemplated the thrilling scene. As the engine came nearer to the little girl, my hopes rose higher, for our speed was effectually checked by the efforts we had made. Tom Walton was on the cow-catcher, and I knew that he would do the right thing at the right time. The child showed no disposition to move; indeed, I think she had no power to do so, even if she comprehended the nature of her peril. As we came near enough, I saw her eyes set in a kind of fixed stare, which indicated astonishment rather than fear. “Jam down the brakes, Lewis!” I called to the fireman, as I labored to check the speed of the engine; and I must do him the justice to say that he was not at all backward in obeying my order, though I doubt whether he would have been equally zealous if it had been I, instead of the child, who was on the track. The speed of the train was checked, but it was not stopped; and so far as the life of the child was concerned, we might as well have been going at the rate of forty as five miles an hour, for the slightest blow of the cow-catcher would have killed her. All this transpired within a few seconds. Hardly an instant elapsed after the steam was shut off, and the brakes put on, before I was trying to back the engine. The sparks flew under the drivewheels, but still the iron mass swept on towards the child, whose instants appeared to be numbered. It seemed to me that I stopped breathing as the little child disappeared behind the forward part of the locomotive. I expected to hear a shriek--to be conscious that the child was a gory, mangled, and shapeless mass beneath. Almost at the same moment, Tom Walton straightened up, holding the child in one arm. The engine had almost stopped, and was still groaning and struggling under my ineffectual labors to bring it to a complete stand. My heart leaped the instant I saw the child in the arms of my friend. My blood, rolled back by the fearful suspense, seemed to be bursting through my veins, and I was disposed to shout for joy. [Illustration: THE RESCUE.--Page 246.] “She is safe!” cried Tom, at the top of his voice, as he leaped from the engine upon the ground, and placed the little girl in the arms of her mother. I saw the horror-stricken parent press the little one to her bosom. I heard the sob of convulsive agony which attended the tremendous reaction. It was like passing from death to life for her, and I felt that I could almost understand even a mother’s emotion.