me to relieve.

"Is it raining that hard? You look like a drowned rat for sure," said
Saunders as he reached for his hat and coat. "Why didn't you stay at
home, and 'phone down? I would have been glad to work for you--not."

"Wait until you are out in it, and you'll not laugh," declared Alex,
struggling out of his dripping ulster. "It is the worst storm this
spring."

"And wait until you see the fun you are going to have with the wire
to-night, and you'll not indulge in an over-abundance of smiles. I
haven't had a dot from the despatcher since six o'clock. Had to get
clearance for Nineteen around by MQ, and now we've lost them."

"There is someone now," said Alex, as the instruments began clicking.

"It's somebody west. IC, I think. Yes; Indian Canyon," said Saunders,
pausing as he turned to the door. "What is he after? He certainly can't
make himself heard by X if we can't."

"X, X, X," rapidly repeated the sounder, calling Exeter, the despatching
office. "X, X, X! Qk!"

Alex and Saunders looked at one another with a start. Several times the
operator at Indian Canyon repeated the call, more urgently, then as
hurriedly began calling Imken, the next station east of him.

"There must be something wrong," declared Alex, stepping to the
instrument table. Saunders followed him.

"IM, IM, IC, Qk! Qk!" clicked the sounder.

"IM, IM--"

"I, I, IM," came the response, and the two operators at Foothills
listened closely.

"A wild string of loaded ore cars just passed here," buzzed the
instruments. "Were going forty miles an hour. They'll be down there in no
time. If there's anything on the main line get it off. I can't raise X
for orders."

The two listening operators exchanged glances of alarm, and anxiously
awaited Imken's response. For a moment the sounder made a succession of
inarticulate dots, then ticked excitedly, "Yes, yes! OK! OK!" and closed.

"What did he mean by that?" asked Saunders beneath his breath. "That
there was something on the main track there?"

"Perhaps a switch engine cutting out ore empties. We'll know in a
minute."

The wire again snapped open, and whirred, "I got it off--the yard engine!
Just in time! Here they come now! Like thunder!

"There--they're by! Are ten of them. All loaded. Going like an avalanche.
Lucky thing the yard engine was--"

Sharply the operator at Indian Canyon broke in to hurriedly call
Terryville, the next station east.

"But the runaways won't pass Terryvi