n conductor, his cash box and car-schedules before him, was
checking up his berths, a blue pencil behind his ear.

"What's the next stop, Captain?" inquired Annixter, coming up. "Have we
reached Fresno yet?"

"Just passed it," the other responded, looking at Annixter over his
spectacles.

"What's the next stop?"

"Goshen. We will be there in about forty-five minutes."

"Fair black night, isn't it?"

"Black as a pocket. Let's see, you're the party in upper and lower 9."

Annixter caught at the back of the nearest seat, just in time to prevent
a fall, and the conductor's cash box was shunted off the surface of the
plush seat and came clanking to the floor. The Pintsch lights overhead
vibrated with blinding rapidity in the long, sliding jar that ran
through the train from end to end, and the momentum of its speed
suddenly decreasing, all but pitched the conductor from his seat. A
hideous ear-splitting rasp made itself heard from the clamped-down
Westinghouse gear underneath, and Annixter knew that the wheels had
ceased to revolve and that the train was sliding forward upon the
motionless flanges.

"Hello, hello," he exclaimed, "what's all up now?"

"Emergency brakes," declared the conductor, catching up his cash box and
thrusting his papers and tickets into it. "Nothing much; probably a cow
on the track."

He disappeared, carrying his lantern with him.

But the other passengers, all but the stout gentleman, were awake; heads
were thrust from out the curtains, and Annixter, hurrying back to Hilma,
was assailed by all manner of questions.

"What was that?"

"Anything wrong?"

"What's up, anyways?"

Hilma was just waking as Annixter pushed the curtain aside.

"Oh, I was so frightened. What's the matter, dear?" she exclaimed.

"I don't know," he answered. "Only the emergency brakes. Just a cow on
the track, I guess. Don't get scared. It isn't anything."

But with a final shriek of the Westinghouse appliance, the train came to
a definite halt.

At once the silence was absolute. The ears, still numb with the
long-continued roar of wheels and clashing iron, at first refused to
register correctly the smaller noises of the surroundings. Voices came
from the other end of the car, strange and unfamiliar, as though heard
at a great distance across the water. The stillness of the night outside
was so profound that the rain, dripping from the car roof upon the
road-bed underneath, was as distinct as the ticking