From under the pounding drivers the smoke flew in clouds—the oil was being burned by friction. Yet down the rails flowed more oil; the drivers were sliding now, the speed of the train was lessening—lessening. The engine was racking itself out, its power was spent, it had been conquered. For an instant it hung poised on the incline, then slowly started down again. The crew had managed to set the hand-brakes, and these held the train somewhat, but still it coasted back down that incline at a speed that brought the watchers’ hearts into their throats. The wheels held the rails, however, and a quarter of a mile back on the main line it stopped, its power for evil exhausted. And just then Number Four whistled for signal, and rumbled slowly into the other end of the yards. The superintendent drew a deep breath of relief and thankfulness as he thought of what the result would have been had the runaway not been stopped in time. “Was Reddy hurt?” asked Allan, who had listened to the story breathlessly. “Hurt? Oh, no; he come down th’ chute, put th’ empty oil-cans back in their places, an’ went t’ work ag’in.” “But didn’t the company do something for him?” persisted the boy. “Wasn’t he rewarded?” “No,” said Jack, puffing away at his pipe with a very grim face; “but th’ superintendent was promoted.” “The superintendent?” “Yes; he got his promotion. Y’ see, in his report of th’ accident, he somehow fergot t’ mention Reddy.” Allan flushed with a sudden generous anger. “But,” he began, “that wasn’t—” “Honest?” and Jack laughed a little bitterly. “No, maybe not; but what could a poor feller like Reddy do about it? Only,” he added, “it’s jest as well fer that superintendent he didn’t stay on this division. Th’ boys would ’a’ given him some mighty lively times. We’ve got a gentleman fer a superintendent now. He don’t try t’ stale nobody else’s thunder—he’s given Reddy a square deal this time.” Truth to tell, Reddy’s family was being better provided for than it had ever been—the superintendent saw to that; and Reddy himself was receiving the best medical attention to be secured, though it seemed more and more certain that even the greatest skill would be unable to restore his memory. It was long before sleep came to Allan’s eyes that night, so excited was he over Jack’s story of Reddy’s exploit, and so indignant at the injustice that had been done him. He was thinking about it still, next day, until, of a sudden, he was forcibly reminded that he also possessed an enemy who was watching eagerly for an opportunity to injure him, and who would pause at no treachery. CHAPTER X. A SUMMONS IN THE NIGHT This reminder came that very afternoon while he was working at the bottom of the deep cut through the spur of the hill which marked the top of the long, stiff grade just west of the mill switch.