in the tender, and did it all with such a business-like
air and appearance of knowing what he was about as to inspire both the
men, who were watching him closely, with confidence.

"Yes," he said at length, "I'll take her in; but we shall need some more
water."

"Good for you, son!" cried the conductor. "You're a trump! and I for one
believe you'll do it."

"So do I," said the passenger; "and I'm thankful we've got such a plucky
young engine-driver along."

"But who will fire?" asked Glen, hardly hearing these remarks, though,
at the same time, sufficiently conscious of them to feel gratified that
he had inspired such confidence.

"I will," replied the passenger, promptly.

"You, general!" cried the conductor in astonishment.

"Certainly! Why not I as well as another?"

"Very well," responded the conductor, "I'm only too glad to have you do
it, if you will; then let us be off at once." And, springing to the
ground, he shouted, "All aboard! Hurry up, gentlemen, we are about to
move on."

But Glen would not start until he had taken a flaring torch and the
engine-driver's long-nosed oil-can, and walked all around the
locomotive, examining every part of the huge machine, pouring on a
little oil here and there, and making sure that everything was in
perfect working order.

Then he again swung himself into the cab, pulled the whistle lever for
one short, sharp blast, opened the throttle slowly, and the train was
once more in motion.

It had hardly gone a hundred yards before two rifle-shots rang out of
the forest, and one ball crashed through both windows of the cab, but
without harming its occupants. Glen started; but his hand did not leave
the throttle, nor did his gaze swerve for an instant from the line of
gleaming track ahead. He had no time then to think of his own safety. He
was too busy thinking of the safety of those so suddenly and
unexpectedly intrusted to him.

The new fireman glanced at him admiringly, and murmured to himself,
"That boy is made of clear grit. I would that I had a son like him."

This man, who was heaving great chunks of wood into the roaring furnace
with the strength and ease of a trained athlete, formed no unpleasant
picture to look upon himself. He was tall and straight, with a keen,
resolute face, an iron-gray, military moustache, and close-cropped hair.
He looked not only like a soldier, but like one well accustomed to
command. At the same time he obeyed promptly, and withou