“I’ll ask Jack to take me,” said Allan; and he resolved to get all the insight possible into the workings of this great engine of industry, of which he had become a part. Quitting-time came at last, and they loaded their tools wearily upon the car and started on the five-mile run home. This time there was no disturbing incident. The regular click, click of the wheels over the rails told of a track in perfect condition. At last they rattled over the switches in the yards and pushed the car into its place in the section-house. “You run along,” said Jack to Allan. “I’ve got t’ make out a report to-night. It’ll take me maybe five minutes. Tell Mary I’ll be home by then.” “All right!” and Allan picked up his bundle of clothes and started across the yards. He could see the little house that he called home perched high on its bank of clay. Apparently they were watching for him, for he saw a tiny figure running down the path, and knew that Mamie was coming to meet him. She did not stop at the gate, but ran across the narrow street and into the yards toward him. He quickened his steps at the thought that some harm might befall her among this maze of tracks. He could see her mother standing on the porch, looking down at them, shading her eyes with her hand. And then, in an instant, a yard-engine whirled out from behind the roundhouse. Mamie looked around as she heard it coming, and stopped short in the middle of the track, confused and terrified in presence of this unexpected danger. CHAPTER V. ALLAN PROVES HIS METAL As Allan dashed forward toward the child, he saw the engineer, his face livid, reverse his engine and jerk open the sand-box; the sand spurted forth under the drivers, whirling madly backwards in the midst of a shower of sparks, but sliding relentlessly down upon the terror-stricken child. It was over in an instant—afterward, the boy could never tell how it happened—he knew only that he stooped and caught the child from under the very wheels of the engine, just as something struck him a terrific blow on the leg and hurled him to one side. He was dimly conscious of holding the little one close in his arms that she might not be injured, then he struck the ground with a crash that left him dazed and shaken. When he struggled to his feet, the engineer had jumped down from his cab and Welsh was speeding toward them across the tracks. “Hurt?” asked the engineer. “I guess not—not much;” and Allan stooped to rub his leg. “Something hit me here.” “Yes—the footboard. Knocked you off the track. I had her pretty near stopped, or they’d be another story.” Allan turned to Welsh, who came panting up, and placed the child in his arms. “I guess she’s not hurt,” he said, with a wan little smile. But Jack’s emotion had quite mastered him for the moment. “Mamie!” he cried, gathering her to him. “My little girl!” And the great tears shattered down over his cheeks upon the child’s dress.