At that moment Mrs. Hopkins and Cherry came out of the store. A clerk followed them with bundles. The girl jumped in first and started the motor. In half a minute her mother and the bundles were likewise stowed away and the door of the car slammed. Ralph had halted. He did not want to pass them again. The boy, giggling still, went along to stand and watch the car. Cherry started and turned it, heading for the Hammerby Street crossing. Ralph noticed that the flagman was just coming out of his shack. The young dispatcher slipped his watch into his palm and looked at it. Number 43 was about due—was even now wheeling into the mouth of the yard half a mile away. The run-about would have plenty of time to cross the track. Then with a sudden intake of breath, the young fellow started. He had seen something—evidently the thing the youngster was laughing his head off about. The tires on the near side of the Hopkins’ car were being deflated. “That scoundrel!” exclaimed Ralph. He knew instantly what Whitey Malone had done. The fellow had loosened the air valves and gradually, as the weight of the car pressed on the tires, the inflated rubber flattened. Before the car reached the crossing it was bumping on that side, and Ralph saw Cherry slowing down and looking out to see what the matter was. Unfortunately the girl did not stop immediately. While she was puzzled about the hobbling car, she ran on. She was half way across the tracks—exactly straddling the inbound rails, in fact—when the motor stalled! The flagman, who was waiting to drop the gates when the supervisor’s car got over, immediately lost his head. He screamed and ran toward the car, waving his flag. The thunder of the oncoming train grew rapidly, vibrating on the air. Ralph leaped away after the automobile. The flagman, seeing the car stop dead, rushed back and dropped the gates! If the girl could have got the runabout started again, she was shut off from escape. “And right on the inbound rails!” gasped Ralph. He saw the car could not be moved. He did not even speak to Cherry as he ran. But he grabbed the red flag out of the crossing-man’s hand and started up the track, waving it madly. It was a straight way for several rods. He knew the engineer would soon see him. Yet he almost held his breath until he heard the shriek of the locomotive whistle as it called for “brakes” and knew that the driver had set the compressed air as he called the brakemen to their unexpected duty. The high front of the big machine plowed toward him, looking as though it could not be stopped at all! Ralph stepped out from between the rails when the pilot was almost upon him. He saw the fireman hanging out of the window on his side of the cabin, staring earnestly ahead. The runabout seemed doomed. And the two occupants of the car had not attempted to get out! “Great heavens, if she hits it!” murmured the young train dispatcher.