"Oh, daddy, you _did_ remember, you _did_, after all!" cried a very white-faced little boy who peered up into the cab window with horrified eyes, while his naked shoulders heaved, and his hand clutched a torn, faded blue shirt. "What's the meaning of this nonsense, Ellis?" thundered an angry voice behind him, and the superintendent, black with scowling, glared at first the boy, then the engineer. "What's this stop for, when you know I haven't a minute to spare getting to Dubuc? You nearly broke my neck, too, downing brakes. What does it mean, I say?" But when the boys, bold with excitement, dragged the great man around the curve, and pointed to the doomed trestle, with its already falling timbers, it was another story altogether. From the engineer's white lips he listened to the history of Benny's "signal code." Then for a long time the great man stood looking at the burning trestle. Once he muttered aloud, "All our lives, a priceless engine, valuable freight, rolling stock, _all saved_!" Then, whirling rapidly on his heel, he said, "Ellis, we want your boy on the road when he's bigger. The boy who can invent a useful plaything and keep his head in an emergency is the boy we want to make into a man on the great Transcontinental. Will you let us have him?" "Ask Benny what he wants to do!" smiled the engineer. "Well, little 'Signal Code' man, what do you want to do?" asked the superintendent. "Speak, old man." The boy was looking him directly in the eyes. "Go on the great Transcontinental, if I get the chance," he replied. "You'll get the chance all right," said the superintendent. "_I'll_ see that you get it. Ellis, you may back the train down into town now. There's lots to see to about reconstructing the trestle." Then under his breath he added: "That's the sort of boy we want on the railroad. That's the sort of boy!" The Shadow Trail A Christmas Story