So the fireman bent steadily to the work of keeping up steam, clanging the door of the fire-box back and forth between each shovelful of coal, in order to keep the draught full strength. The flames licked out at him each time the door was opened, lighting the cab with yellow gleams, which danced across the polished metal and illumined dimly the silent figure of the engineer peering forward into the storm. The engine rocked and swayed, the wind swirled and howled about it, and tried to hold it back, but on and on it plunged, never pausing, never slackening. Any one who was on the track to-night must look out for himself; but, luckily, the right of way was clear, crossing after crossing was passed without accident; the train tore through little hamlets, awakening strange echoes among the darkened houses, and, as it passed, the operator would run out to look at it, and, after a single glance, would rush back to his key, call frantically for “G I,”—the despatcher’s office,—and tick in the message that the wrecking-train had got that far on its journey. Back in the wrecking-car the superintendent had taken out his watch and sat with it a moment in his hand. “We’re going a mile a minute,” he remarked to the train-master. “Higgins is certainly hitting her up.” The train-master nodded and turned again to the conductor’s report. He was planning every detail of the battle which must be fought. Jack glanced at Allan, and smiled. “You’re wonderin’ how he could tell how fast we’re going, ain’t ye?” he asked. “Yes,” said Allan, “I am. How did he tell?” “By listenin’ t’ th’ click o’ th’ wheels over th’ rails,” answered Jack. “Each rail’s thirty foot long—that is, there’s a hundred an’ seventy-six to th’ mile. Mister Heywood probably kept tab on them fer fifteen seconds and counted forty-four clicks, so he knowed we was goin’ a mile a minute.” “Here we are,” remarked the train-master, as the wheels clanked over a switch, and, sure enough, a moment later their speed began to slacken. Jack looked down at Allan and grinned again, as he saw the astonishment written on the boy’s face. “You’re wonderin’ how Mr. Schofield could tell that, ain’t you?” he asked. “Why, bless you, he knows this here division like a book. Put him down on any part of it blindfolded and he’ll tell you right where he is. He knows every foot of it.”