“‘Good! The old gal can make the run in two hours, if she has a clean road and no bigger load than one coach. Glad to make the run--wanted to go to Memphis anyhow--sweetheart there--want to see her--was going to ask for leave anyway--ten minits we’ll be off like a greased streak of lightnin’!’ “The greasy little man moved away as if he meant business. “‘Number seven is in good order--Mr. Steelbrim anxious to make the run,’ said the operator to the superintendent by wire. “‘Start him at 8:50 with one coach. Let him make the run in 2:30 if he can. Order track to be cleared. Tell number four to take side track at Sardis. Number seven will only stop two minutes at Sardis for orders--two minutes at Hernando for same purpose--no other stop to be made.’ “As the operator repeated this order to me hope, which I thought had died within me, began to revive. A glimmering hope it was indeed, yet it was a live hope that I should once more gaze on those pretty blue eyes before death set his cold seal on them forever. I hurriedly wrote the following message, which the operator sent to Dr. Dodson: “‘Will leave here by special train at 8:50, and arrive at depot at 11:20; have carriage at depot. Tell Lottie we are coming. For Heaven’s sake keep her alive till we come! Answer this at Sardis. Don’t fail nor lose time. Will send another telegram from Sardis.’ “By the time this dispatch had been forwarded, Mr. Steelbrim had moved his engine onto the main track, and began to back down to the depot. “‘All right, cap; the old gal’s a-pantin’ to be off. Steam one-forty and a-risin’. What’s the orders?’ “The operator read the orders carefully; then handed the paper to Mr. Steelbrim. “‘Good! All aboard!’ cried the greasy little man, as he leaped on the cab and seized the throttle-lever. “‘Pile on the coal, Jim; keep her a-bilin’; time’s up in three minits; old gal’s a-champin’ her bits; but I’m the chap that’ll hold her on the rail and let her fly directly!’ “Harry and I stepped aboard and took seats opposite each other in silence. A dim lamp struggled for life in one corner of the coach, while a pale light cast a gloomy appearance over the seats. “‘Time’s up!’ exclaimed Mr. Steelbrim, as he gave the lever a backward pull, and the engine dashed rapidly away.” CHAPTER XXVII.