Mallory, as soon as Harvey was out of sight, settled down to await his return with more or less impatience. The fireman leaned against the forward end of the tender and promptly fell asleep, but Jawn waked him with a growl, whereupon the exhausted man stood erect, struggling to bring his rebellious nerves under control. As the minutes slipped by Jawn's eyes shifted from track to bank and back to the cut again. The clouds that lingered from the afternoon rain hid every star save one near the horizon, which struggled to announce the coming dawn. Ten minutes passed, and fifteen. Then came the warning bell of the other locomotive, followed by a quick succession of puffs as the big drivers gripped the rails. Jawn leaned far out the window and scanned the banks of the cut. No one was in sight. He ducked in and seized the throttle lever. “Hold on,” said Mallory. “Are they coming this way?” “Yes.” Mallory seized his arm. “Back up, then. We can't meet them.” Jawn jerked his elbow from Mallory's grasp and opened the throttle. “Are you crazy, man!” Mallory shouted. “Stop her! You'll kill us!” Jawn opened her a little wider. For an instant Mallory looked at him in wonder, then he sprang forward and jammed the lever close to the boiler. “Reverse!” he ordered. For reply Jawn turned on Mallory and crowded him back. Weak-nerved from the long strain, suffering for lack of sleep, the two men broke down for the moment, and struggled about the cab. The fireman stumbled back against the boiler with a dazed face, but after a moment he recovered and rushed between the two men. “This ain't right!” he screamed. “If you two fight, we're ditched.” As he spoke, the detective who had gone with Harvey came slipping and tumbling down the cut, and clambered aboard the engine. Jawn and Mallory fell back against the opposite benches and glared at each other. Jawn suddenly reached for the throttle. “Wait a minute,” gasped Mallory; “she's stopped.” Half reluctantly Jawn listened. Sure enough, the other train had paused, evidently just around the curve. “The man's right,” Mallory went on. “We haven't got any business scrapping; we've got to pull together. Now tell me what you were trying to do.” Jawn looked out ahead before he replied,-- “I ain't going to leave Mr. West down there.” “Isn't Mr. West back?” asked the detective, in a startled tone. “He's had time enough to go clear to the station and back. I went pretty near to it myself. They've got a train full of men. It looks like business.” “Hear that, Donohue?” said Mallory. “What do you think we can do against a gang like that?” “That don't make no difference, Mr. Mattison says, 'Hold the line if you lose an engine doing it,' and I'm going to hold it.” “But stop to think, man. There isn't a possible chance of holding it. We'll do more good by dodging back and keeping them guessing until the relief comes. As it stands now we are perfectly helpless.”