The Alcomotive had sprung into action once more. People slid out of their seats with the shock, others toppled head over heels into the aisle, the porter went down unceremoniously upon his sable countenance and crushed into pulp the plate of tongue sandwich he had been carrying. But the Alcomotive was going--that was enough for Hawkins. He sat back and watched the scenery slide by kinetoscope fashion. “Lord, Lord, where's the old locomotive now?” he laughed pityingly. “Don't shout till you're out of the wood, Hawkins,” I cautioned him. “We haven't reached Philadelphia yet.” “But can't you see that we're going to? Won't that poor little mind of yours grapple with the fact that the Hawkins Alcomotive is a success--a _success?_ Can't you feel the train shooting along----” “I can feel that well enough,” I said dubiously; “but suppose----” “Suppose nothing! What have you to croak about now, Griggs? Actually, there are times when you really make me physically weary. See here! The Alcomotive supersedes the locomotive first, in point of weight; second, in point of speed; third, in economy of operation; fourth, it is absolutely safe and easy to manage. “No complicated machinery--nothing to slip and smash at critical moments--perfect ease of control. Why, if that fellow really wished to stop--here, now, at this minute----” Whether the fellow wished it or not, he stopped--there, then, at that minute! We stopped with such an almighty thud that it seemed as if the cars must fly into splinters. They rattled and shook and cracked. The passengers executed further acrobatic feats upon the floor; they clutched at things and fell over things and swore and gurgled. “Well, by thunder!” ejaculated Hawkins. That was about the mildest remark I heard at the time. “What do you suppose he did?” “Give it up,” I said, caressing the egg-like eminence that had appeared upon my brow as if by magic. “Probably he fell into the infernal thing, and it has stopped to show him up.” “Nonsense! We'll have to see what's happened. Come, we'll go through the cars. It's quicker.” We ran through the coaches until we had reached the front of the train. Hawkins went out upon the platform. The Alcomotive was apparently intact. The engineer stood over the machinery, white as chalk, and his lips mumbled incoherently. “What is it?” cried Hawkins. “How'n blazes do I know?” demanded the engineer. “But didn't you stop her?” “Certainly not. She--she stopped herself.” “What perfect idiocy!” cried the inventor “You must have done something!” “I did not!” retorted the engineer. “The blamed thing just stood stock-still and near bumped the life out of me! Say, mister, you come up here and see what----” “Oh, it's nothing serious, my man. Now, let me think. What could have happened? Er--just try that lever at your right hand.” “This one?” “Yes; pull it gently.”