“It was cut off yesterday morning. The last word I got was that No. 7 was on a siding there, and that No. 9, which started at 8.15 for Antioch, had had to push back. The fire was in between Antioch and Harrison, on both sides of the track, and blazing to beat hell.” Having reached this verbal height, he relapsed into comparative indifference. “Where's the freight?” questioned Oakley. “The last I heard it was trying to make Parker's Run.” “When was that?” “That was yesterday morning, too. It had come up that far from Antioch the day before to haul out four carloads of ties. Holt gave the order. It is still there, for all I know--that is, if it ain't burned or ditched. I sent down the extra men from the yards here to help finish loading the cars. I had Holt's order for it, and supposed he knew what was wanted. They ain't come back, but they got there ahead of the freight all right.” Oakley felt this care for a few hundred dollars' worth of property to have been unnecessary, in view of the graver peril that threatened Antioch. Still, it was not Durks's fault. It was Holt who was to blame. He had probably lost his head in the general alarm and excitement. While Harrison might be menaced by the fire, it was in a measure protected by the very nature of its surroundings. But with Antioch, where there was nothing to stay the progress of the flames, the case was different. With a north wind blowing, they could sweep over the town unhindered. “Yesterday the wind shifted a bit to the west, and for a while they thought Antioch was out of danger,” said Durks, who saw what was in Oakley's mind. “What have you heard from the other towns?” “They're deserted. Everybody's gone to Antioch or Harrison. There was plenty of time for that, and when No. 7 made her last run, I wired ahead that it was the only train we could send out.” “How did you get the extra men to Parker's Rim?” “Baker took 'em there on the switch engine. I sent him down again this morning to see what was the matter with the freight, but he only went to the ten-mile fill and come back. He said he couldn't go any farther. I guess he wasn't so very keen to try. He said he hadn't the money put by for his funeral expenses.” “They told me up above that the M. & W. had hauled a relief train for Antioch. What has been done with it? Have you made an effort to get it through?” Durks looked distressed. Within the last three days flights of inspiration and judgment had been demanded of him such as he hoped would never be required again. And for forty-eight hours he had been comforting himself with the thought that about everything on wheels owned by the Huckleberry was at the western terminus of the road. “It ain't much of a relief train, Mr. Oakley. Two cars, loaded with fire-engines and a lot of old hose. They are on the siding now.” “Were any men sent here with the relief train?” questioned Oakley.