The head of the locomotive swerved and the light caught the two rails again at a distance. The great white ray of the lamp shot into the tunnel of blackness under the trees. And then, as one of the watching firemen sang out from the other side of the cab, Ralph grabbed the reverse lever and threw it down in the corner. He could not stop for easing her off. He slapped on the brakes. Fire flashed from the coach wheels and a grinding and bumping told of the damage being done because of this vicious stop. The occasion called for such drastic measures, however. The Midnight Flyer was held up. What it meant, Ralph did not know, but in the middle of the westbound track stood a man’s figure outlined by fire! Had he not pulled down the heavy train as he had, the locomotive would have collided with the flaming object. CHAPTER XX STRANGE SIGNALS The pilot of the great engine was within six feet of the flaming figure when the train was stopped. And Ralph knew, and unhappily, that several of the coach wheels were so badly flattened by the pressure of the brakes that they would have to go to the shops to be replaned. This thought was back in his head, however. First and foremost he wanted to know what this was ahead—this strange signal that had caused him to bring the Flyer to such an abrupt stop. One of the firemen leaped to the cinder path and ran ahead. In a moment he turned and waved his arms madly. “It’s a scarecrow! I believe it came out of yonder cornfield. A scarecrow all afire!” He kicked the blazing figure and it fell over, the straw contents of the old coat and trousers flaring up into a more vivid flame. “Somebody has played a joke on us,” shouted the other fireman. “And a pretty poor joke, at that.” “Maybe it is no joke,” was Ralph’s comment. “Stilling, you go forward with a lantern. If all’s clear at the next curve give us a high-ball. There may be something more than a joke in this mysterious affair. Hurry up, now!” Stilling ran ahead. The conductor came forward, worried about the delay. The violent stopping of the train had awakened many of the passengers and the Pullmans, he said, were buzzing. “Let ’em buzz,” replied Ralph carelessly. Stilling’s lantern flitted on like a firefly’s light. Ralph’s gaze was fixed upon it. He hoped to see the sign given by the lamp that the way was clear. But when Stilling reached the long curve that began nearly an eighth of a mile beyond the point where the Flyer had been brought to a stop, he halted—they could see that by the motion of the lantern—and then went on slowly. By and by he signaled: “Come ahead—slow.” There was something wrong. The conductor knew this as well as the young engineer. The former’s lantern signaled a question back to his flagman. The latter brought in his lantern from the other curve, signaled “All aboard!” and Ralph started forward.