d always in even, favorable results.
The locomotive was in splendid order and a finer train never left
Stanley Junction. At many stations cheers greeted this practical
announcement of the end of the strike.

There was no jar nor break on the route until they reached a station
near Afton. The engine was going very fast, when, turning a curve,
Griscom uttered a shout and turned the throttle swiftly.

"Too late!" he gasped hoarsely.

The young fireman had seen what Griscom saw. It was an alarming sight.
At a street crossing a baby carriage was slowly moving down an
incline. A careless nurse was at some distance conversing with a
companion. The shrill shriek of the whistle caused her to discover the
impending disaster, but she had become too terrified to move.

Ralph readily saw that speed would not be greatly diminished by the
time the locomotive overtook the child in the baby carriage, and in a
flash he acted. He was out on the running board and onto the
cowcatcher so quickly that he seemed fairly to fly. Grasping a
bracket, the young fireman poised for a move that meant life or death
for the imperiled child.

The locomotive pounded the rails and shivered under the pressure of
the powerful air brakes. Ralph swung far down, one hand extended. The
baby carriage had rolled directly between the rails and stood there
motionless.

It contained a beautiful child, who, with an innocent smile, greeted
the approaching monster of destruction as if it were some great,
pleasing toy. Ralph's heart was in his throat.

"Grab out!" yelled Griscom, fairly beside himself with fear and
suspense.

The young fireman's eyes were dilated, his whole frame trembled. Quick
as lightning his hand shot out. It met in a bunch of the clothing of
the child. He lifted; the vehicle lifted, too, for a strap held in its
occupant.

There was a terrific tension on the arm of the young railroader. The
lower part of the vehicle was crunched under the cowcatcher and the
child was almost borne away with it. Then the pressure lightened. With
a great breath of relief and joy Ralph drew the child towards him,
tangled up in the wreckage of the baby carriage.

The train stopped. Griscom did not say a word as they backed down. His
face was white, his eyes startled, his breath came hard, but he gave
his intrepid young assistant a look of approbation and devotion that
thrilled Ralph to the heart.

A crowd had gathered around the distracted nurse at the stre