The Daughter of a Magnate - Page 81/119

Would Giddings hold them at Point of Rocks till the Special reported?

Would he send them out to keep the track open regardless of the

Special's reaching Point of Rocks?

Had they themselves reached Point of Rocks at all? If past it, had

they been seen? Were the ploughs ahead or behind? And the fireman

asked another question; if they were by the Point tank, would the water

hold till they got to Medicine Bend? No one could answer.

There was but one thing to do; to keep in motion. They started slowly.

The alternatives were discussed. Glover, pondering, cast them all up,

his awful responsibility, unconscious of her peril, watching him from

the fireman's box. The engineer looked to Glover instinctively for

instructions and, hesitating no longer, he ordered a dash for Medicine

Bend regardless of everything.

Without a qualm the engineer opened his throttle and hooked up his bar

and the engine leaped blindly ahead into the storm. Glover, in a few

words, told Gertrude their situation. He made no effort to disguise

it, and to his astonishment she heard him quietly. He cramped himself

down at her feet and muffled his head in his cap and collar to look

ahead.

They had hardly more than recovered their lost distance, and were

running very hard when a shower of heavy blows struck the cab and the

engine gave a frantic plunge. Forgetting that he pulled no train

McGraw's eyes flew to the air gauge with the thought his train had

broken, but the pointer stood steady at the high pressure. Again the

monster machine strained, and again the cab rose and plunged

terrifically. The engineer leaped at the throttle like a cat;

Gertrude, jolted first backward, was thrown rudely forward on Glover's

shoulder, and the fireman slid head first into the oil cans. Worst of

all, Glover, in saving Gertrude, put his elbow through the lower glass

of the running-board door. The engine stopped and a blast of powdered

ice streamed in on them; their eyes met.

She tried to get her breath. "Don't be frightened," he said; "you are

all right. Sit perfectly still. What have you got, Paddy?" he called

to the engineer. The engineer did not attempt to answer; taking

lanterns, the two men climbed out of the cab to investigate. The wind

swept through the broken pane and Gertrude slipped down from her seat

with relief, while the fireman caught up a big double handful of waste

from his box and stuffed it into the broken pane. So intense had the

strain of silence become that she would have spoken to him, but the

sudden stop sprung the safety-valve, and overwhelmed with its roar she

could only watch him in wretched suspense shake the grate, restore his

drip can, start his injector, and hammer like one pursued by a fury at

the coal. Since she had entered the cab this man had never for one

minute rested.