ed the wide flat along the river. Medicine Bend was then
the western operating point for the railroad and the distributing
point for all material used in the advancing construction through the
mountains.

Not until he left the shelter of the station building did he realize
the force of the storm that was now sweeping across the flat. The wind
had swung into the northwest and blew almost a gale and the snow stung
his face as he started across the dark yard. There were practically no
lights at all beyond the platform except those in the roundhouse, too
far away to be seen, but the operator saw the moving head-light of the
switch-engine and hastened across the slippery tracks toward it. The
crew were making up a material train to send west and the engine was
snorting and puffing among long strings of flat cars loaded with
rails, ties, stringers, and bridge timbers.

As Bucks neared the working engine it receded from him, and following
it up he soon found his feet slipping in the wet mud and the wind at
times taking his breath. Conscious of the folly of running farther, he
halted for a moment and turning his back to the storm resolved to wait
till the engine returned. He chose a spot under the lee of a box-car,
and was soon rewarded by hearing a new movement from the working
engine. By the increasing noise of the open cylinder cocks he
concluded it was backing toward him. He stepped across the nearest
track to reach a switch-stand, a car-length away, whence he thought he
could signal the engine with his lantern. He had nearly reached the
switch when his foot slipped from a rail into a frog that held him
fast. Holding his lantern down, he saw how he was caught and tried to
free his heel. It seemed as if it might easily be done, but the more
he worked the faster caught he found himself. For a moment he still
made sure he could loosen his foot. Even when he realized that this
was not easy, he felt no alarm until he heard the switch-engine
whistle. Through the driving snow he could see that it was coming
toward him, pushing ahead of it a lead of flat cars.

Bucks was no stranger to railroad yards even then, and the realization
of his peril flashed across his mind. He renewed his efforts to loosen
his imprisoned heel. They were useless. He stood caught in the iron
vice. A sweat of fear moistened his forehead. He hoped for an instant
that the moving cars were not coming on his track; but almost at once
he saw that they were be