Instantly he grasped the arms of his seat, as did all the others, for they knew that the train had run over a torpedo. A second later, they were all jerked violently into the air as the brakes were jammed on and the engine reversed. Every loose object in the car was hurled forward with terrific force, and a negro porter, who was walking past bearing a tray of glasses, was shot crashing through the thin front partition, and disappeared with a yell of terror. A window, shattered by the strain, rained its fragments in upon the floor, and through the opening thus made, the occupants of the car could hear the shrieking brakes and labouring engine. In a moment, it was over; the train jerked itself to a stop; paused an instant as if to regain breath, and then, as the brakes were released, started with a jump back toward the office it had just passed. A moment later, something seemed to strike it and hurl it backward, but the car did not leave the rails. The impetus slowly ceased, and the train came to a stop just opposite the semaphore. Without saying a word, the officials hastened outside. They knew perfectly well what had happened. A head-end collision had been averted by the narrowest possible margin; indeed, it had not been wholly averted, but had been so reduced in force that no great damage had been done. "Lucky our train was a light one," muttered Mr. Schofield, as he jumped to the ground. "I wonder if he thinks now I was trying to scare him?" and he shuddered at the thought of what would have happened had the engineer been unable to control the train. If it had been a regular passenger, with eight or ten heavy Pullmans crowding after the engine, even the most powerful brakes would have been unable to hold it. Superintendent Heywood, his face very stern, hurried forward toward the engine. It was his duty to investigate the accident, to place the blame, and to see that the guilty person was punished. He regretted, as he had often done before, that the only punishment the road could inflict was dismissal from the service. Such a punishment for such a fault seemed so feeble and inadequate! Bill Roth, the engineer of the special, was walking about his engine, examining her tenderly to see what damage she had sustained from the tremendous strain to which she had been subjected and from the collision which had followed. "She's all right," he announced to Mr. Heywood. "Nothing smashed but her pilot and headlight," and he patted one of the huge drivers as though the engine were a living thing and could feel the caress. The superintendent nodded curtly and hurried on. Twenty feet down the track, the pilot and headlight also smashed, loomed a freight-engine. A single glance told Mr. Heywood that it belonged to the D. W. & I. "I'll run her in on the siding," he said to Mr. Schofield, who was at his elbow.