The speed indicator was pointing to four hundred miles per hour. Swiftly he released the chain, and felt the control lever break loose, falling into neutral. Blake reached for the magnetic brake, and heard a footstep on the floor behind. He whirled swiftly. O'Toole was standing at the entrance of the diesel room, electro gun pointing at Blake's chest. "You're a smart one," O'Toole said. He waved the gun meaningly. "I'm glad you cut the power. We'll coast from here to the lake." Blake was silent. "Thought Walter Ferrell was the chief of this outfit, did you?" O'Toole was enjoying himself. "Well, I didn't have any idea of jumping the train. We'll coast within a mile of the cut, shoot the coupling free between the cab and the coaches, and set our brakes. Walter Ferrell and his little party are going to taste cold water for the last time." Blake said nothing. He started to walk deliberately toward the hulking Irishman. O'Toole snarled. "Back," he warned. "I've got to kill you anyhow. It might as well be now." Blake grinned. "I can't understand why you ever included me in this set-up to begin with," he said. "Things would have been easier if you hadn't sent for me." "Listen Blake, when I sent for you, I figured you'd fit in here. I didn't know you'd fall for all this kid brother heroic stuff." * * * * * "You evidently knew something of my history," Blake said coolly. "Why did you play that sympathetic game?" O'Toole seemed anxious to be understood. "I knew you had been pirating every space craft between here and Mars," he said. "I knew that you had a swell reputation and were clever as hell. I knew that if you'd see things my way, I could get Walter Ferrell in bankruptcy within a month, and cut you in as a partner." "Why change your mind?" Blake asked. He sat down in the pilot's chair and crossed his legs comfortably. "All we have to do is cut that coupling loose, ride back to the cave and collect all the dough we need by sitting tight." O'Toole chuckled. "Do you take me for a fool? I can handle things my own way, with Ferrell out of the way. I don't need you." His face softened a bit, and the gun dropped inches. "Besides, how do I know you won't turn yellow and give the whole thing away?" Blake saw his chance to hit at O'Toole's one weakness. "Wade is out of the way," he said swiftly. "I can return to South Station and assume control of the line with Ferrell out of the picture. You'll get half of everything we make." O'Toole was weakening. He glanced out of the cab, toward the wooded side of the valley. "You're just crooked enough to be on the level," he pocketed the electro gun. "In ten minutes we'll reach Loon Lake. Better get to that coupling." Blake followed him back through the power car. O'Toole turned once, and grinned wickedly. "We'll have a devil of a time, you and I," he said. "Now, for a nice swimming party to Ferrell and his gang."