He threw off Jack’s waterproof, which would only impede him now that he needed the utmost freedom of movement, and, holding his lantern tight, he jumped from the track and half-scrambled, half-fell down the steep descent below him, disregarding mud and brambles, torn clothes, and bruises, thinking only of one thing—that he must reach the other side and save the train. In a moment he was at the bottom, bruised and breathless, but luckily with no bones broken. Then for an instant he paused. Through the bottom of the ravine ran a stream, usually a gentle, shallow brook, but now swollen to an angry torrent by the pouring rain. There was no time for hesitation—no time to seek a better place—indeed, that was impossible in the darkness—and, holding his lantern high above his head, the boy dashed into the water. For a moment it seemed that he must be swept away, so fierce was the rush of the torrent; but he got his feet, braced himself against it, and inch by inch fought his way across. The water tore at him and raged around him, hissing and sputtering, determined that he should not escape. Well for him that he had had those months of work on section, which had strengthened muscle and steadied nerve—which had taught him how to fight! So, at last, he won through to the farther bank, breathless, exhausted, triumphant. And here a new difficulty met him. He had shut himself into a trap from which there seemed no escaping. Again and again he tried to climb the steep side of the ravine, but as many times slipped down to the bottom, bringing with him an avalanche of earth and loose stones. Dry sobs rose in his throat and choked him as he lay for a moment against the bank, weak and trembling. Was he to be defeated here, with the end almost in sight? Was he to fail, after all? Must he stay here to witness the train take that awful plunge from the trestle down into the torrent beneath? He looked up with a shudder. High above him, he could see the trestle dimly outlined against the sky, and he knew that the work of tearing up the rail must be almost done.