"How about rocks, Bill?" asked Bucks, peering dubiously toward the roar of the rushing river. "All up-stream from here," returned Dancing, edging down the shelving table toward the water. "Lock arms with me so I don't lose you, sonny. What in Sam Hill is that?" Far down the river the two saw a tongue of flame leaping into the sky. They watched it for a moment. Dancing was the first to locate the conflagration, which grew now, even as they looked, by leaps and bounds. The two stood ready to plunge into the river when a fire of musketry echoed up the gorge. The lineman clutched Bucks's arm. "There's fighting going on down there now. What's that smokestack? By Jing, the roundhouse is on fire!" CHAPTER XXII They plunged together into the river. The water, icy cold, was a shock, but Dancing had made no mistake. They were below the rocks and needed only to steady themselves as the resistless current swept them down toward the railroad yards. Bucks demonstrated that he could swim and the two seemed hardly in the water before they could fully see the burning roundhouse. A moment later, chilled to the bone but with his mind cleared by the sharp plunge, Bucks felt his companion's arm drawing him toward the farther shore where, in the slack water of an elbow of the stream, Dancing led the way across a shoal of gravel and Bucks waded after him up the riverbank. They hastened together across the dark railroad yard. The sound of firing came again from the square in front of the railroad station and thither they directed their fleeing feet. To the right they heard the shouts of the men who were fighting the fire at the roundhouse and the hot crackling of the flames. They reached the station together and entered the waiting-room by a rear door. Men were running everywhere in and out of the building and the waiting-room was barricaded for war. Bill Dancing caught a passing trainman by the arm. "What's going on here?" The man looked at the lineman and his companion in surprise: "The gamblers are driving the vigilantes, Bill. They've got all Front Street. What's the matter with you?" Dancing caught sight of Bob Scott coming down the rear stairway with an armful of rifles, and, without answering the question, called to him. "Hello!" exclaimed Scott halting. He started as he saw Bucks. "Were _you_ with him? And I've been scouring the town for you! Stanley will have a word to say to you, youngster. They thought the gamblers had you, Bill," he added, turning to the lineman. Dancing, a sight from the pounding he had taken, his clothing in tatters, and with the blood-stains now streaked by the water dripping from his hair, drew himself up. "I hope you didn't think so, Bob? Did they reckon a handful of blacklegs would get me?" Scott grinned inscrutably. "They've got the best part of your shirt, Bill. How did you get off?" "Swam for it," muttered Dancing, shaking himself. "Where's Stanley?"