"The shock came the next moment. I felt myself lifted into the air, and the next I knew I was lying at the foot of the embankment, a dozen yards from the place where we had met. "Jack died at his post, and his sufferings could not have lasted long, for he was crushed beyond recognition. Fortunately no other lives were lost, though the passengers were terribly shaken up, and two of the freight cars were piled up on the engine. "Jack's fidelity, I am sure, averted a worse catastrophe. He met the fate of a hero, and it was always a mystery to me the company never did more for his family. "Hey! As I live, the Swan is falling into another ugly mood!" They were rushing along at a tremendous rate, and an inexperienced eye would have seen nothing amiss. In fact, the engineer himself could not. The driving-rods were shooting back and forth in perfect play, while the large drivers were revolving with clock-like regularity. Every now and then Jockey would give the lever a slight pressure, which would be instantly felt by the iron steed. Despite all this the Silver Swan was not doing as well as she ought. She was barely keeping her course at the usual speed. Jockey glanced to the boiler. The index finger pointed to the gauge at 122 degrees. Three more degrees was all she could stand. Rock was doing his duty. The track was straight and level. Still the Swan showed no disposition to gain the twenty minutes coveted time. The old engineer shook his grizzled head and the furrows deepened on his careworn visage. "The fates are against us to-night," he muttered. "We can never make Wood's Hollow in time to escape the down express. That is always on time." Just then the little gong over his head sounded, in response to the conductor's pull upon the cord. Jockey quickly answered this with a blast from the whistle, which the other would understand to mean that the engine was already crowded to her utmost. The old engineer was losing his temper by this time, and with his hand still on the lever he leaned forward to peer into the gloom, parting before the dull rays of the headlight, as if to let them pass. A drizzling rain was yet falling, but he did not notice this, for at his first glance a cry of horror left his lips, and he staggered back, exclaiming: "It is coming! Someone has blundered!" Rock started forward with surprise, and he uttered a cry of terror as he saw the gleam of a headlight and the shadowy outlines of an engine and train, less than a rod in front of them. [TO BE CONTINUED.] THE ORIGIN OF DOLLS.