pose," added the conductor.

The passengers of the derailed coach were taken to shelter in a coach
which backed to Widener. There was nothing to do now for the engineer
and fireman of No. 999 but to await the arrival of the wrecking crew.
Word came finally by messenger from the dispatcher at the station that
the same was on its way to the Gap. Inside of two hours the coach was
back on the rails, and No. 999 moved ahead, took on transferred
passengers from No. 38, and renewed the run to Bridgeport on a
make-time schedule.

There had been a good many compliments for the young engineer from
the crew of No. 38. The conductor had expressed some gratifying
expressions of appreciation from the passengers who had heard of
Ralph's thrilling feat at the semaphore. The conductor of the special
coach attached to No. 999 had come up and shook hands with Ralph, a
choking hoarseness in his throat as he remarked: "It's a honor to
railroad with such fellows as you." Fogg had said little. There were
many grim realities in railroading he knew well from experience. This
was only one of them. After they started from Widener he had given his
engineer a hearty slap of the shoulder, and with shining eyes made the
remark:

"This is another boost for you, Fairbanks."

"For No. 999, you mean," smiled Ralph significantly. "We'll hope so,
anyway, Mr. Fogg."

Wet, grimed, cinder-eyed, but supremely satisfied, they pulled into
Bridgeport with a good record, considering the delay at the Gap. The
conductor of the special coach laid off there. No. 999 was to get back
to Stanley Junction as best she could and as quickly. As she cut loose
from the coach its conductor came up with an envelope.

"My passengers made up a little donation, Fairbanks," the man said.
"There's a newspaper man among them. He's correspondent for some daily
press association. Been writing up 'the heroic dash--brave youth at
the trestle--forlorn hope of an unerring marksman'--and all that."

"Oh, he's not writing for a newspaper," laughed Ralph; "he's making up
a melodrama."

"Well, he'll make you famous, just the same, and here's some
government photographs for you lucky fellows," added the conductor,
tossing the envelope in his hand into the cab.

Fogg grinned over his share of the fifty-dollar donation and accepted
it as a matter of course. Ralph said nothing, but he was somewhat
affected. He was pleased at the recognition of his earnest services.
At the same time the