last run I make with
this--faugh! And you say _you've_ been a soldier!" It was Toomey's
chance, after weeks of pent-up rage for battle, and he couldn't throw
it away. Seeing that Ben, dull, heavy, and uncomprehending, was staring
stupidly about him, not knowing what to do; seeing that even Cullin was
melting at sight of the grief in Shiner's face; seeing the sympathy in
the eyes of the bluecoats and the shame in those of the brakemen,
Toomey turned loose on his adversary, and Toomey, when fairly started,
could talk to the point. It was a tongue-lashing, indeed, and one that
left the conductor no chance to reply.

"It's 'gainst orders, and you know it, Toomey," was his futile gasp,
when Toomey stopped for breath.

"'Gainst orders you've broken time and again, and you know it! 'Gainst
orders Bob Anthony would break your head for not breaking! It's 'gainst
orders for you to pull out now when you're blocked, till you get
further orders--and yet you say go."

"How can I get orders without a man or a wire at the station?" burst in
Cullin, grasping at straws. "How can I get authority to take this man
along? He's liable to arrest anyhow for tampering with the signals."

And then another voice was interjected, another disputant stepped
quickly forward, and Toomey checked himself in the first breath of an
impassioned outburst; his black hand suddenly shot half-way up to the
cap-visor, then came down with a jerk; his heels had clicked together
and his knees straightened out, then as suddenly went limp. The
new-comer had sprung up the steps. The form was slender and sinewy.
Hands, face, and dress were black with soot, but the young voice was
deep and the ring of accustomed command was in every word. "That's your
cue, Mr. Cullin. Arrest him and fetch him along." Then turning to
Toomey: "There's no one at the cab. Better get back, quick!" he added.
And Toomey went.

Big Ben gave one look and, without a word, waddled after his fireman.
The tears that stood in old Shiner's eyes dashed away at the brush of a
sleeve. A light of astonishment, comprehension, relief suddenly gleamed
in their place. The sergeant stared for a moment, looked blankly at his
men, then side-stepped for another long gaze at the new-comer's face.
Cullin turned sharply, resentful at first at the tone of authority,
wrath in his heart and rebuke on his tongue, but then came sudden
reminder of Anthony's card--the card the strange young fellow had
presented only